#and it could be catastrophic if people in the palace found out

[petricorah]

meeting on the fire nation stairs [ids in alt]

#zukka #zukka fanart #myart #sokka #zuko #avatar the last airbender #atla #atla fanart #zuko fanart #sokka fanart #missed connections..... #something about both of them wanting to make a move before sokka thinks about going to the water tribe #but knowing that they have to focus on rebuilding the nations #and it could be catastrophic if people in the palace found out #zuko's new peaceful methods are already not putting him on good terms with the remaining officials #he's one step away from a coup #and yet #all he wants is to be with sokka #to have more than passing fleeting moments while dodging prying eyes in the court

[dufrau]

Okay so bear with me this is Erathia fanfiction aka fic of a movie within a fic aka absolute nonsense inspired by @eskawrites

It's ronance but also not ronance? But it is ronance?

(if you havent read this story that we found ourselves in this will make no sense im sorry and even if you have read it this might make no sense! it is for me and like 3 other people! but also you need to read it and then start reading the nancy pov if you love yourself even a little)

Anyway it's uh. Their wedding night? But in sort of a "i heard you like fake dating AUs so i put a fake marriage AU in your fake dating AU but of course its a very real marriage but robin/lark hasn't fully grasped that fact?"

(Lark= Robin, Tenar= Nancy)

"It was a lovely ceremony, Your Highness." 

Lark stood stiffly with her back to the door, ill at ease in the queen's quarters in a way she hadn't felt since her first days in the castle. Tenar moved about the room brusquely, as if willing the strangeness away with her quick little movements. Brushing the enormity of what they had done away like dust from her desk, as if any dust would dare settle on her royal furniture. The maid could hear a mote fall from across the courtyard, it would not last a second.

"Did you think so? Really?" Tenar asked, making no attempt to mask the doubt in her tone.

"It was a successful one, at the very least," Lark conceded. "Your plans, as always, gone off without a hitch."

"One hitch, intentional as it were," Tenar corrected her.

"Right."

Tenar turned to look at her, standing at attention by the door, and let out a deep sigh.

"Come take some wine, I think it would do you some good. You've been too sober all day."

"For your safety, Your Highness," Lark insisted. "Beloved as you are to your people, there will  always be some who would take liberties. It is my job to be too sober."

Tenar laughed, ringing like clashing steel, her wits undulled by whatever wine she herself may have taken.

"I know it well. Was I not married today with a scabbard on my hip?"

That she was. She wore a gown, of course, as per tradition. But on top of it she had donned a leather coat, plated in steel. Lighter than her real armor, fitted and filigreed for ceremony. But it would slow an arrow if not stop it outright, if by some catastrophic failure an arrow was allowed to get that far.

Her sword now lay discarded across the great map table in the center of her quarters. The entire kingdom laid down willingly under her blade.

They were a grateful people, by and large, for the peace she had won them. And there had been no whispers of violence that day. Only celebration. Carts sent out through the cobbled streets of the city and out along the cowpaths to the villages loaded with wine and meats and everything needed for a feast. The ceremony would not be held hostage in the great hall of the palace but spread out across the realm, every person invited to partake.

When Lark had stood on the dais in her own finery and watched the queen take the stairs one by one, accepting Moss's steadying hand as if daring the people to question her forgiveness, she had all but lost her breath at the sight of it. 

She had stumbled blindly over the vows, repeating them almost mindlessly as Ged struggled not to laugh. The vows were nothing to her. She had taken them long ago in secret. They bound her heart and her hands as surely as her nerves bound her tongue in repeating them now before this audience of friends and strangers.

Arren had stood at her back, and she was grateful for his snickering presence. The only normal thing apart from the taunting fire in Tenar's eyes.

That fire undying, it shone as fiercely as ever now when it was just the two of them as it did for the entire kingdom. Lark had a selfish wonder if perhaps that fire was meant for her all along.

It burned her, regardless.

She pushed herself off the door and into the queen's gravity. She took the offered glass and she drank, and she felt the warming wine move through her. Only the best for the queen.

"I appreciate your participation, today," Tenar told her when she was satisfied with Lark's sipping. "I know you've never cared for ceremony. I fear I've bound you to a life of it, now."

"I suppose I could take in a hunt when I sense a feast day approaching," Lark said. She felt loosened already by the wine to some small degree, enough at least to jest. "Is that not the proper pastime for the Queen's consort?"

Tenar smiled up through her eyelashes. Through her crown.

"Indeed," she said. "But be careful not to catch anything or we will need to throw another feast to show off your prowess."

Lark took another sip of her wine.

"I have not missed a ceremony or a feast these recent years as it stands," she sighed. "Now at least I can count on a comfortable chair."

"You can count on anything you need," Tenar reminded her. "This hasn't changed. I would have given you any chair in the realm if you had asked. But you don't ask."

"I'm a woods-grown rogue, I have sat in places far worse than the chairs in your court."

"Would you like to sit on my bed? It's softer even than a throne. To help me with my dress, if it pleases you."

The fire, undying. 

Lark swallowed her wine roughly, the warmth turned to burning.

"Would not your handmaidens be better suited?" She asked. Her fingers twitched around her goblet. 

"I can call on them, if you'd prefer." Tenar turned her back to pour more wine and Lark was faced with the temptation to do as the queen directed. How easy it would be to untie those strings. Like setting a snare, only this time Lark feared she was the one in the trap. "I thought you might appreciate the privacy after having so many eyes upon you today."

"You are too kind," Lark thanked her. "I only worry that it wouldn't be appropriate, Your Highness."

"We are married," Tenar spoke it into existence.  The reality of it almost sent the wine back up Lark's throat. "It is more than appropriate. If anything it is expected."

The wine stayed down but a laugh came up in its place. She set her cup down.

"Well I fear I'm doomed to fail at fulfilling those expectations." Her free hands gestured disbelievingly. "Certainly no heir can come of it, unless your court magician has tricks up her sleeve I am not privy to."

"No tricks, no." Tenar shook her head.

"Well then what can they expect of us? Of me?" Lark felt herself rising to panic. "What is it we owe them, in here? I won't sully you in the name of ceremony."

Tenar laughed without humor.

"Sully me?" She asked. "Do you think me so soft? So easily broken? Do you still think me the wilting flower? The helpless princess locked away safe in her castle?"

"No, My Lady," Lark insisted. "I was a fool ever to mistake you so."

"You are many things, but a fool has never been among them."

"Your Highness-"

"Enough!" Tenar's patience rarely ran out but she let it now. "Don't feed me more formality, I have had my fill. We are equals. If you won't call me your wife I would have you at least use my name."

"You have no equal, My-" Lark cut herself off. She cleared her throat, trying to clear away the tenderness that always gathered around the two syllables she had to speak. "Tenar."

She watched the word hit her queen's ears, watched them pink.

"You make music of it, my name," Tenar said softly.

Lark looked at the ceiling and loosed a helpless laugh. "It is the only song I know."

Tenar stepped forward and took Lark's hands into her own. A warrior queen, her dainty fingers calloused and strong. 

"I should think a woods-grown rogue would have heard some more bawdy lyrics than those," she offered.

"If I have ever heard any I have long since forgotten them," Lark told the truth. 

"I believe it." Tenar's eyes were steel. Unbending in her resolve. "You're no rogue anymore. You wear your station like a costume, and I understand it. I do the same, much of the time. But I know your heart. It is real. And those that look upon you, that look upon me? To them it is real. It has to be. They'll look upon us, now, together. What will we show them?"

Lark felt wordless under Tenar's gaze. She fell back upon her oath. "Your will is my will, my queen. I will be what you need me to be."

"I need you to be your own self, Lark." Tenar insisted. "I need you to stay my hand when it would move too hastily. To act when I am unable. I have a sword, and an entire armory full of spares. I don't need another weapon to wield. I need a wife, if you would be one. But do not mistake me, it is your choice, always. Even now. I would have your friendship and be grateful for it, if that is what you offer."

"I will be whatever-"

"Lark." Tenar dropped Lark's hands and took hold of her face now, forcing her to look, and to see.

The fire. Undying.

Lark could not win this war against a woman who never flinched. She broke open.

"Fine. Yes." She raised her hands in surrender. She could only beg for mercy. "You have me. I'm caught, at last. There are likely still bounties on my head somewhere, and they are yours if you'd like to cash me in. You have me. I am yours. I have been your friend. I would be your wife if you should somehow find me acceptable." She fought for her breath and she caught it. She slowed herself. "I would be your wife, Tenar. If you would have me."

"I would."

"Well then. I guess you do. Have me."

"And you have me. Understand, I would not be sullied, by you or by anyone." Tenar told her. Lark's apology was cut down in its stride. "But you have marked me already, and deeply. It cannot be undone. And I am the better for it."

Lark was all out of oaths. "You flatter me."

"I do not waste my words."

"Flattery is not wasted on me, Your Highness." She watched a smile touch her queen's face underneath the flush of frustration.

"I have asked you to stop that." Tenar let go of Lark's face and stepped back. "I took a knee to ask you to marry me and you took a deeper one to say yes. Will you never stop putting me above you?"

"It is a hard habit to break," Lark mused. "I have spent so long looking up at you, even despite your stature."

"Ah!" Tenar laughed, sincerely. "Insubordination, at last."

"Progress marches ever forward." Lark, too, marched ever forward, following in her queen's footsteps.

Tenar turned and asked over her shoulder. "And how does it sit, this equality?"

"Unsteady, truth be told."

"Well,"Tenar offered. "If even footing is too much to bear, can I suggest that I might prefer to be beneath you, at present?"

Lark could only sputter. "Are these the bawdy lyrics you spoke of, my queen?"

"My name," the queen insisted.

"Tenar," Lark breathed.

"There. That is the tune. Now come and sit on my bed where it is soft. Help me with my dress. I will teach you the words."

#cfdau #tenlark #ronance #eskawrites #basically this is the same flirting i always write but in an obnoxiously different dialect #im sorry #or youre welcome #this is not canon in the erathia/cfdau universe this is just me exorcising a brainworm

[thenightling]

Willy Wonka misconceptions

As Charlie and the Chocolate Factory / Willy Wonka has become weirdly popular lately because of the successful prequel film and most recently that really botched / rip-off Wonka event in Glasgow Scotland, it felt like a good time for this post.

Here are a list of popular misconceptions about the book and films.

1. Much of the Internet thinks of Wonka as a "Serial killer of children." I pointed out that at the end of the 2006 film and novel you see the children alive, though altered. And in the 1971 film that version of Wonka says that they will all be fine, but a little wiser. Someone tried to argue with me that he was just trying to placate Charlie. Really!? Since when did that Wonka ever lie to make people feel better?

Based on his previous behavior we have no reason to believe Wonka would lie just to make Charlie feel better. It's just a dark, edgy, annoying headcanon to pretend Wonka killed those other kids when every version tells you they survived.

____________________________

2. Grandpa Joe was not "Faking it" or "being lazy." It seems ironic to me that so many rant and even get genuinely angry about the character Grandpa Joe. It is especially odd to me when the rage is in regard to the depiction in the 1971 film, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate factory.

The reason it is odd to me is because in the 1971 film Grandpa Joe very clearly was suffering through severe depression, possibly a long bipolar depression phase.

The depression is clear in his "I've got a golden Ticket" song.

"I never thought my life could be Anything but catastrophe"

"I never had a chance to shine Never a happy song to sing"

It seems weird to me that today people shame characters like Cinderella for not being assertive and empowered when she's a live-long abuse victim. And then you have the people against Disney's The Little Mermaid who say she gave up who and what she is for a man but ignore that she had a song number from before she ever saw Eric, where she expressed body dysphoria and made clear she wanted to be human even then.

And you have a large part of the Internet shaming Grampa Joe for being "lazy" and "faking being sick' while he's literally telling us that he he's been in a severe depression.

It's almost like watching a generation that supposedly respects mental illness and understands depression in ways previous generations didn't... suddenly having a justification to shame someone for having all the symptoms of clinical depression.

Hell, even the song "I've got a Golden Ticket" kind of indicates Grandpa Joe is entering a manic phase. If Grandpa Joe's illness is psychological why do we treat it as not-real? I get so annoyed at how many people mock the character or act like he's a con artist exploiting Charlie.

________________________

3. The Oompa Loompas were not slaves.

It's true that the earliest depictions of the Oompa Loompas were little African people (before the novel was revised) but in all versions he tells the kids that he pays them in coca-beans. That might sound like he pays them in fallen acorns he found in his garden but it's made clear that to Oompa Loompas, in their society, coca-beans are worth more than gold.

Try to imagine you got a job working for aliens who offer to pay you in large bars of gold if you just help him make some gold jewelry. But because gold isn't worth THAT much to these aliens they think you're a pathetic slave, even though Lofty (the Oompa Loompa from the new Wonka movie) probably now has a palace on Loompa Land that he uses as a summer house.

Interesting bit of trivia: Charlie was originally going to be black.

___________________________

4. Wonka (2023) is NOT a remake. A lot of people mistakenly think this is yet another remake. No. It's a musical prequel to the Gene Wilder Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory movie from 1971. ________________________

5. Lots of fans have "figured out" that the shoe shine boy Wonka sees early in Wonka is Charlie. One small problem with that. This is twenty-something Willy Wonka. Wonka was supposed to be pushing fifty or sixty when he went looking for an heir. The timeline wouldn't work. The director has confirmed that for this reason the shoe shine boy is NOT Charlie Bucket.

And there you go. A list of popular Wonka misconceptions debunked.

#Willy Wonka #Wonka #Charlie and the Chocolate Factory #Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory

[pogostikk]

Info dumping rn cause I can’t seem to draw anything and I needed to engage in my au somehow.

There’s a lot I’d like to draw in my au that I haven’t been able to, particularly how Steven would entertain himself on Homeworld. He’s a small human in a giant palace with no purpose to busy himself with, of course he gets up to things when he’s not with Star.

And this was stuff he did before Connie, she had no idea how good at sneaking around Steven was till later.

Obviously it would be hard to get around without being noticed, I think Steven also wouldn’t enjoy the gawking stares when he wasn’t being picked up and brought back to (Star’s… Quarters? Chamber? I dunno) his room. But also occasionally some gem would get brave and be like oh wow Star’s “pet” is so adorable let me go say hi! Which is also uncomfortable bc who wants to be dehumanized?

Anyway getting off track here, Steven would be able to get around by going through secret pathways that led pretty much anywhere, I’m calling them the Pearl Pathways for now. I got inspired by the servants’ staircases, which were in Victorian houses of certain sizes. Apparently they were used because servants were expected to be out of sight when they were moving around (I haven’t done much research). Which is messed up, but I feel like gems would have a similar opinion of pearls. So I broadened the concept. And I think Steven would totally be allowed to enter them. Orchid probably introduced him to all the local pearls, and they could understand his experience of needing/wanting to stay out of sight, so he became a bit of an honorary pearl and was allowed entry. Which btw, pearls aren’t allowed to explore any hobbies or have any fun, so I imagine they get by by sharing all the tea they gather from standing by their gems all the time. And Steven totally gets to hear all the gossip, he knows all about the “scandalous” fusions, and the opinions of higher ranking gems that would never be spoken otherwise. If he was desperate and needed something done, he’d have blackmail. Lol

I honestly think Steven could befriend anyone, and with all those secret halls, I bet he found his way to those sentient gems made into architecture. The show never talked about them much, but I think they were harvested gems used to build the palaces or something of the like. I bet they get bored. And I bet they enjoy Steven’s company and laugh at all his corny clown jokes.

When Steven isn’t traveling the palace talking to pearls or architecture gems (I don’t know what else to call them), I honestly think he’d be reading. Orchid definitely taught him gemglyph. So he’d sometimes just read up on gem reports or the empire’s history on his (organic-accessible) screen.

And then when he gets bored of doing that he’d go find Star and beg him to hang out with him. And Star wants to hang out with Steven, he really does, but he can’t afford to neglect his court and god forbid anger the other diamonds. So then Star would see if Spinel could hang out with Steven. And that’s like a last resort because they kind of trouble they could cause could be catastrophic.

Steven is a total extrovert and overall just loves getting to know people. Star is the exact opposite, he doesn’t enjoy talking to people much but I also wonder if introversion and extroversion would even exist in gems? Like I bet they have their preferences regarding socializing but do they have like levels of energy that is based on how much they interact with others? Either way, Star isn’t a big fan of big groups of ppl or making tons of friends, he’s just a workaholic and his work involves talking to tons of gems. He doesn’t mind Steven’s presence though. Sometimes he’s not up to chatting endlessly or even hearing Steven go on talking from subject to subject (he can be up for it tho and it happens), and they’ll just do their own thing in each other’s company.

Anyways I’m done ranting now, if you made it this far congrats I hope this was somewhat entertaining.

#steven universe #su au #human steven #pink steven #connie maheswaran #I’ll probably do this again at some point so I can talk about what Steven and Connie did together when she came to Homeworld

[aziraphales-library]

Hello!

Love all the recs you post here. I found a ton of new fics <3

A little question, do you have any fairy tail au fics? Already read 'The Rose and the Serpent', 'Give it a shot' as well as 'Angel in Cinders' but I would love to find more

~🌺

Hi. You’ll want to check out our #fantasy au tag which has a fair few fairy tale fics on it. Here are some more for you...

Fairest by lilliankayl (T)

(Snow White Retelling AU) Aziraphale has no memories of his father and very few of his mother. His father died when he was an infant and his mother remarried shortly afterwards. When his mother died just before his seventeenth birthday, his stepfather’s true colors were revealed. Now on the run and taking shelter from those who will help him, Aziraphale must never let the king find him, for it will surely mean his death if he is found.

The Scarecrow by AppleSeeds (M)

The last surviving member of his family, Aziraphale inherits a crumbling 14th century cottage from his uncle. Staying in the cottage to catalogue his uncle's collection of rare books, Aziraphale combats his loneliness by speaking to the scarecrow in the neighbouring field. He awakes one night to find the scarecrow in his bedroom, mouth torn open, speaking to him...

Crowley was cursed by a witch and turned into a scarecrow over five hundred years ago, but somehow Aziraphale's presence is changing him into something more human. While Aziraphale works to break the curse completely, the two of them spend a great deal of time together and find something special within each other, both discovering what it truly means to be free.

Our Arms Were Once Wings by Ecchima & RiYuYami (T)

“I’m… I’m going to be a swan, for the rest of my life?” He asked, in a quiet voice.

Crowley was still not looking at him, instead, he was scratching his neck and seemed to be looking towards the lake again.

“Not… exactly. Only when the sun is out.”

“What do you mean by that? Are you saying that I can be human again?”

“Only at night.”

--

A Good Omens Swan Lake/Swan Princess au with a bit of a twist.

Tail as Old as Time, Swan Song as Old as Rhyme by Kedreeva (T)

Deep in the countryside, surrounded by a black-mirror lake, sits an abandoned manor, long since victim to some kind of magical catastrophe. Nothing lives there, nothing living will come within a mile of it, save for the one strange, graceful black swan that swims the moat, guarding the derelict home from anyone that would intrude.

And for almost a hundred years, none have dared until Aziraphale unwittingly stumbles in, on the run from his family.

The Dragon's Scheme by The_Bentley (E)

Crowley isn't your average dragon. He prefers a more civilised life of drinking wine, collecting art and gardening. Also, he decided he would rather have a friend than spend a lonely existence terrorising faerie villages like dragons are supposed to do. Desperate for a companion, he hatches a surprisingly successful plan to get one.

But the relationship blossoming between him and his new friend, the faerie Aziraphale, has attracted unwanted attention. Gabriel, a travelling merchant who seeks the elevated status of a hero, is determined to "rescue" Aziraphale from Crowley's "clutches". And Crowley's clan, tired of his antics, would prefer to evict him from his home in favour of a more compliant dragon.

Crowley's clever little plan to get himself a friend might not be the only scheming going on. Gabriel's interests just might converge with the dragon clan's. That could spell trouble for the dragon and his faerie partner.

Villainous by IneffablePenguin (E)

Once Upon A Time…

There was a red-haired sorcerer who lived alone in a high tower. And a blond prince who lived in a palace full of people. And they were both of them desperately lonely.

The Kingdoms of Empyrion and the Sorcerers of Apollyon have hated each other for hundreds of years, ever since the Great War. They do not interact, other than to occasionally try to kill one another. And they certainly do not make friends.

Crow is an exhausted sorcerer who just wants everyone to leave him the hell alone: for the Sorcerer’s Council to stop harassing him to live up to his potential, and for wannabe Empyrion Heroes to stop attacking his tower to try and kill him. Until one day when he meets Prince Azra of the High Fells, who doesn’t behave anything like he’s supposed to…

Part fairy tale, part fantasy, all love story. There’s magic, and grand romantic gestures, and Heroes and a handsome Prince, and a Villain. There are even some wild heroics, though not necessarily from who you would expect. At its core it’s simply about two (relatively) sane people living in a mad world who find each other.

The smut isn’t until later chapters.

And I believe the three you mention in your ask are...

The Rose and the Serpent by Atalan (M)

AU, retelling of “Beauty and the Beast”. Quite honestly, sending Aziraphale off into the forest to be held hostage by a giant snake in a cursed castle isn’t even the worst thing Gabriel’s ever done to him, and at least it means a change of scene. But then neither the snake nor the castle turn out to be quite what he’s expecting…

Give it a Shot by walking_contradiction42 (T)

When Aziraphale, prince of Tadfield, gets captured by the famous outlaw Crowley he can only think of escape. But soon he discovers that Crowley and his merry people are much different from the stories told about them. Crowley absolutely despises all royals and the stupid inhuman taxes that are causing the people to live in misery. But he can’t help but feel intrigued by Aziraphale, who seems so different to what he expected. Okay and maybe he has the tiniest bit of a crush on him.

Or: The Robin Hood AU that nobody (except me) needed.

Angel in Cinders by ShesAKillerQueen98 (M)

(Good Omens Cinderella AU) Ever since Aziraphale's mother remarried, his life has been nothing but misery. Before she died, she told him to have courage and greet the world with kindness, even if it doesn't give him the same kindness back. Lately, Aziraphale has been finding it harder to follow that advice. But when the royal family announces a masquerade ball to celebrate the birthday of the youngest prince, who bears a striking resemblance to a mysterious young man he met in town, things go from bad to worse. All he wants is to attend the festival. But perhaps with a little luck, and perhaps some magic, he can find happiness.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #fantasy au #fairytale inspired #mod d

[jimblejamblewritings]

snow falls hot | part 9.

Summary: (Y/N) Snow isn’t a Snow at all. She’s a Targaryen— Rhaegar’s child. Taken in by the Starks, she leads her life as another on of Ned’s bastards. Will she be able to live in Westeros comfortably? More importantly, does she have any ambition to see herself one day on the Iron Throne?

Warnings: it’s game of thrones…

Pairing: gendry x reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Previous Part | (Series Masterlist)

The almost three years spent in Old Valyria:

Seven sparrows took flight. People in the streets ran from them as they attempted to attack. Pecking at anything in sight, the birds didn’t cease in their assaults. As if possessed, all at once the birds stopped. They began to caw in distress until green bile was coughed up from their beaks. The green ran through the streets, getting caught in the cracks of the cobblestone.

Eddard’s crying woke you up. You were up in an instant as were Grey Wind and Shadow. Cooing to calm your baby down, you grabbed the little bit of fruit left and mushed it like before. The four of you had slept in the entrance way of the citadel that night after having done some initial looking around. Eddard grabbed at the wooden spoon and you let him have it. The baby seemed determined to feed himself. Lots missed his mouth but he whined when you tried to take the spoon away.

“You’re just as stubborn as your father. But Robb listened to me, you know.”

That didn’t move Eddard to give you the spoon. Instead, he squealed in delight and banged the spoon against your leg a few times. He finished eating and you cleaned him up. Shadow and Grey Wind left again, not that you minded. It was good they felt free to explore, that’s what you and Eddard intended to do. You wanted to explore the citadel more but finding supplies was more important. Some of the buildings were covered in layers of ash, others fairly pristine despite the catastrophe.

You imagined furniture and other supplies would still be there though. Eddard needed a small crib of his own and you needed blankets so Grey Wind and Shadow wouldn’t feel forced to wrap around the two of you at night. When it came to food, you realized that would not be much of a problem. Shadow could fly out to get sheep and other animals from wherever she flew off to. Birds, hares, and climbing goats for Grey Wind existed in the forest. The trees scattered about that weren’t a part of the forestry grew fruit. Wild vegetables could probably be found somewhere and the waters below held fish— you would just have to learn how to fish.

With Eddard propped on a hip, you finally followed your animals out of the citadel entrance. The first bridge connecting buildings was to your left. The building it led to seemed larger than life with two large dragon statues at the entrance. The palace, with a doubt, that’s what it was. You approached the bridge.

It looked to be in good condition but looks could be deceiving. You did not come all the way to Old Valyria just to die by cliff fall. You looked around to see a chunk of dragonglass that was almost the size of Eddard— harder than glass but the same clear with a green tint as some ale bottles, the dragonglass was part of the debris that flew from volcanoes during the Doom.

You tossed the glass once in your hand before throwing it across the bridge. When nothing happened, you began to walk across. Every time you reached the glass you would throw it again. You were only maybe one or two tosses away. The dragonglass glided across the bridge and suddenly vanished. You waited but never heard the splash of it landing in water, confirming how high up you actually were. Carefully, you walked to the spot where it had fallen. There was a small gap before the ground in front of the palace. It was jumpable. Covering Eddard’s eyes with your hand, you lept.

The dragon statues were even larger up close. Unlike the citadel, the doors were still intact. The dragon statue to the right was not— one of the wings was broken off. You pushed on the doors and they easily opened. It didn’t appear anything was locked. Eddard squirmed in your arms. You set him down and held both of his hands as he tried to walk, forcing you to bend over in an awkward position as he toddled forward.

You remembered when all the younger Stark siblings were babies. Especially Arya, Bran, and Rickon who were born when you had become old enough to want to help take care of them. It had taken Rickon and Arya very long to walk. Bran was fairly fast— according to Maester Luwin, the quickest baby he had ever seen. From the looks of it, Eddard might end up like Bran. His steps were fairly certain and you anticipated letting him be able to walk on his own before you left Valyria. Or at least only have to hold one of his hands instead of both.

The little lord was rising up to his nickname as he dictated where the two of you would go first in the palace. He moved into the heart of the palace. You looked around as you held onto him and followed. It was so similar yet so different to Westeros. The Realm had so much to learn from. You loved the high windows of the place. Eddard led you into the throne room— the overwhelming chair staring you down. It was covered in ash, a chunk of volcanic rock sitting in it. When you looked up, you could see a hole in the ceiling.

So far, most things were covered in dragonglass or ash. Not many large rocks and you began to think the Doom was less about boulders and more about magic. The ash must have done something to them. Whatever it was, you wouldn’t know. The winds had blown away many layers of ash and you suspected skeletons broke down and were blown away with it.

You and Eddard stopped when a pale figure sat on the rock in the chair. A ghost. She stepped down from the chair, pushing her crown back up as she did. You were as stiff as wood when she approached. She circled you a couple times before stopping in front with a large smile.

“That dye can’t hide you from the eyes of spirits. A Targaryen has returned.”

“Do I know you?”

“I would hope not, otherwise you look very well for your age,” the ghost laughed. “Your House wasn’t the strongest here. But they had the best dragons, always Hand to the King or Queen. Now you rule your own across the Narrow Sea.”

“I don’t yet.”

“But you plan to?”

She knelt down to reach out at Eddard. You thought your son would cry but instead he simply stared at the ghost. She ran a hand through his loose curls— his hair was more like Robb’s. You were surprised to see that a ghost could physically touch him.

“He is not just Targaryen… neither are you.”

“His father hailed from North of Westeros, a descendant of First Men— he is a Stark before he is of my line. My father is a Targaryen, my mother from Dorne but her father from the island of Naath.”

“So your mother was a bastard?”

“I don’t know, it’s unclear if my grandparents married. Dorne has interesting concepts about what constitutes a bastard.”

You both turned your heads at the screeching outside. Your dragon had come, for once without you calling to her. Shadow entered the building with ease— the buildings of Valyria meant to be big enough for some dragons to enter. Her claws clicked against the stone and her tails moved ash and dust as she walked in. She bent her head to be by you, staring the ghost down with smoke constantly pouring from her nose and her eyes like slits.

“I’m sorry, I’ve never seen her behave like this before.”

“Dragons are not fans of the dead realm.”

“Shadow, calm yourself.”

“Shadow?” the ghost asked.

“Yes, I named her that because… because she’s black like a night’s shadow.”

Your dragon’s eyes got narrower as the ghost reached out a hand to touch your cheek instead.

“Azor Ahai,” she whispered.

“I’m sorry?”

“Dragons came from a land on the outskirts of Essos in a city called Asshai. They were tamed by people so ancient we don’t have a name. The city, its people, and everything there was known as the Shadow. They had stories, the same story that has spread through the known world of a hero with a hero’s sword. That hero saved the world once and R’hollar will rebirth them again so they may lead a great number into battle and stop the Dark Night once more…”

“The Night King,” you muttered, understanding more about your own dreams. “Winter is coming.”

“Cold follows the Dark Night wherever it goes.”

“That’s a saying in Westeros. The Starks have said it since before time itself, perhaps the first men knew. A lesser known phrase meant to warn.”

“Many Houses try to forget the cold that came, others keep sayings to ensure their descendants know what is coming.”

“My House has one, it was made after they left Valyria. The dragon has three heads.”

“There are three living Targaryens by birth, one who has connection to all continents of the known world. With a living shadow behind her.” The woman bent the knee. “Azor Ahai, I am staring at the princess promised.”

The ghost faded as the wind blew. Shadow puffed out more smoke before snaking into another area of the castle. You and Eddard moved to the staircase near. Your heart dropped and a shrill gasp left your mouth when Eddard stepped on the first step and almost fell through the weak spot— lucky you were holding onto both of his arms. You quickly scooped him up and held a hand to your heart, laughing at the near heart attack. You cradled his head, pressing kisses to him.

“Mama will take the stairs. Okay, Ned?”

You tapped your foot along the first step. There were no more weak spots on it. With each step, you tested it and punched your foot through the weak spots so as to already have the holes marked out. When you reached the top, you spotted a doll. Gently picking it up, you examined it and gave it to Eddard. People had been in the middle of their daily lives when the Doom hit, they barely had time to flee— the ones that could. Peering into the first room, you saw it belonged to children.

“Look, Eddard!”

You set the boy down in a little wagon. The rest of the day was spent gathering supplies from the palace and placing them in the wagon. You cleared stiff sheets off of beds and took little toys for Eddard. Books left on the nightstands of adult rooms you also took with you.

It took a minute when you reached the bridge to cross. All the stuff from the wagon had to be thrown over to the other side, then the actual wagon itself. After you leapt with Eddard back across, you had to load everything up again and then could take a stroll home. Grey Wind greeted you with a rabbit in his mouth. You set Eddard down by the wolf who began to eat his meal.

“Watch him, Grey Wind. Shadow!”

She appeared within moments. You took a lined basket for water collection as well as the stiff sheets and mounted your dragon.

“We will be right back.”

Shadow dove, barely stopping before hitting the water. You threw the sheets in front of you for Shadow to catch. Grabbing them in her mouth, she dipped the sheets in the water over and over again. You gasped when the wet sheets hit you, suspecting that Shadow did that as payback for having her do your chores. Shadow flew over to somewhere she must have been exploring earlier— a large waterfall pouring from one of the cliffs. It was large but calm, so smooth it almost looked like it wasn’t moving. You stuck out the basket until it was full of water.

Eddard and Grey Wind hadn’t moved from where you and Shadow had left them. The only difference was the rabbit Grey Wind had been gnawing on was now just bone. You poured some of the water into another basket you had collected and pushed it towards Grey Wind. The sheets wouldn’t be usable that night so you threw them over some tree branches to dry off. Looking around at the ruins, you could see how beautiful Valyria once was. That beauty you wanted to bring to Westeros— you would bring to Westeros.

~~~

A boat sailed away through water that was almost ice. A man that looked like Jon watched with fear on his face. There were a few boats, not just his, full of people. They were in furs but not Northerners that you recognized. They all looked on as ice and snow blew over the docks they had just left. Skeletal hands poked out through the snow.

You woke up and sent a prayer to the Old Gods of Winterfell to protect Jon. Jon and his friends, new subjects of the Seven Kingdoms. Satisfied with your prayer for him, you checked on Eddard and then went back to sleep.

~~~

The weapons building was beautiful. Your fingers dusted over everything as you walked around. You stopped when your eyes landed upon various saddles. Of course the dragon riders would eventually saddle their beasts. You and Shadow spent a least half an hour trying on saddles until the dragon slapped the ground when discovering the one she liked— Eddard who had been wrapped in cloth on your back was happy to babble his opinions before falling asleep halfway through.

Shadow was saddled, now easier for you to ride. You took another saddle, wanting it mainly for the strap, and also collected all the bows and arrows you could find. You planned on creating a weapons belt to wrap around your dragon.

When you returned to the citadel to get to work, Grey Wind placed his head in your lap. He watched in intrigued as you used the daggers to cut holes in the leather and took rope to try and combine the various quivers to the long belt. The arrows wouldn’t be able to stay in just like that, you had figured that out while you were attaching the first quiver to the belt. You had a solution or what you hoped would be one. You planned to tie lids onto the quiver out of either rabbit’s skin or sheep skin depending on if Grey Wind or Shadow hunted first. You would just stab the arrows through and be able to pull one out in the heat of battle without risking all the rest falling to the ground.

~~~

Diamonds and other jewels glittered in the palace coiffers. As well as heaps of gold. It was more than enough to give back to the farmer’s family. It was enough to pay the Iron Bank who under the Baratheons were owed a lot of money by the Crown. Your first concern was for the family that took such good care of you and Eddard. You only took the riches for them. You would fly back later with Shadow to pay the debt to the Iron Bank.

~~~

Grey Wind gave you a mix between a snort and a growl— something you assumed to be the dire wolf’s best form of a grumble. He was tired, you felt it. After every session he was tired. But you were determined to learn how to warg into him. The two of you clunked your heads together and you closed your eyes to try once more. It worked for a moment. A moment was enough, more than you had ever done before. You would keep trying until it was longer than a moment but for now it was important to let Grey Wind rest. You closed your eyes as well, needing a moment to recharge.

It was a girl. She grabbed at her face and peeled at it off as if she was wearing a mask. You watched her pull through many faces. Men, women, old, young, with Northern features and with features of people from Naath and the Summer Isles until the face stopped on Robb.

~~~

The fish mocked you. You were sure of it as you tried to throw another spear from the back of Shadow. Commanding your dragon to leave, you abandoned the spears and the fish and moved to old targets of the training field. You pushed Shadow to go as fast as you could handle while aiming arrows. You hadn’t forgotten what you were taught while in King’s Landing but on the back of a moving creature wasn’t the easiest. You and Shadow worked out a comfortable speed that you could still shoot with accuracy.

~~~

The egg tower looked the least like your dream. The architecture was the same and there was a large book in the center of the room. But there were no eggs— not even fossils. You looked at Shadow who gave you a small puff of fire in response. With a large sigh, you climbed onto her back and grabbed a horn— you decided that she wouldn’t be saddled unless it was time to fight. You both returned to the ground where both Eddard and Grey Wind were asleep, the baby resting on the wolf. You petted Shadow.

“Do you know where Asshai is, Shadow? Where the Jade Sea meets the Saffron Straits? There are dragon eggs there. If I tie a basket to you, will you collect some from me?”

Shadow didn’t move and you knew you could take that as a yes. You did as you said and tied a basket to her leg. With a quick command to go, the dragon was off. You warged into her to see her start of the journey. You weren’t sure when Shadow would be back— this would be the true test of how far you could warg into her. She would be back and hopefully with eggs. Eggs you would bring back to Westeros.

~~~

It was Winterfell. You longed to be back. But it wasn’t the Winterfell you knew, it was older. Not by much but by enough that Ned and Benjen Stark were young boys nearing men. The place seemed just as lively as before.

“Wylis!”

You recognized the voice of Old Nan. When your eyes found her, like everyone else, she was younger. The boy Wylis— a name you hadn’t heard in all your years in the North— came running. He was tall, towering over the other kids his age in the courtyard. And he had adorable chubby cheeks with brown hair. You couldn’t think of anyone that looked like him that Old Nana talked to when you were in Winterfell. Maybe this Wylis left before Ned became Warden in the North. Suddenly Wylis dropped to the ground, shaking and mumbling. You wanted to help and even made a move to when you stopped at the sight in front of you.

“Bran?”

The boy, no longer a boy, looked at you. He seemed shocked to see you there. Bran opened his mouth to speak when you both turned your heads at Wylis yelling.

“Hold the door!”

His eyes went white. You had years of experience to recognize what warging looked like. Hold the door became more muddled as poor Wylis shook. Whatever he was seeing through the warg was clearly affecting him. The shouts turned into a word you recognized. Hodor. You thought your eyes had deceived you until you heard it again. You looked at the young man across from you.

“Brandon Stark, what did you do?” you asked in horror.

Your eyes flashed open. You had weeks of pleasant dreams but that one was anything but. Grey Wind and Eddard were still asleep. It was weird with just three of you, the missing looming presence that was your dragon was becoming noticeable. With Shadow currently gone, the only places you could go were the citadel, the palace, and the forest.

Grey Wind had started coming with you and Eddard into the palace. The young boy was able to walk for short bouts on his own but usually holding one of your hands. The ghost you had seen from the first time you entered the palace occasionally greeted you— Grey Wind growling even more than Shadow did the first encounter.

“I need a general. Someone to teach me how to fight with a sword,” you told her.

She left and moments later returned with another spirit. The commander was someone she knew when they were both alive— he led the armies that fought under her. He laughed and shook his head when you drew your sword. You unconvincingly re-sheathed your sword. The commander materialized a second sword, throwing it at you. You caught the spirit weapon, a chill going through your bones as you did. He gave you barely any warning before he moved towards you. With a shriek, you brought up the sword and blocked him. The general smiled as you continued to block him.

“I thought you would be a baby with a sword. Like your son over there.”

“I was taught to defend myself.”

“You were? By who? This is not like the fighting of Essos.”

“By a Kingslayer in Westeros.”

~~

Shadow had returned with a basket full of eggs. Like your original egg, they were all grey. Covered in layers of dried ash, you wondered what colors would be revealed in good time. You had warged in and out of the dragon her whole journey. She had been safe for the most part. It appeared that the Shadowlands were as populated as Valyria— when it came to people anyway.

Shadow had been gone longer than anticipated. Eddard could walk on his own, he could speak sentences, was learning how to hold onto Grey Wind and ride the beast. He was almost three.

Both you and Eddard had inklings of Targaryen peeking through. His white streak was back as well as the underside of your hair being white as well— only the top part still black. Eddard was a perfect mix of you and Robb. He had your white streak of Targaryen hair, your eyes and your skin. But the rest of his features were all Robb including the loose curls that would be more black than brown if it wasn’t for the fact that Catelyn was a Tully and Tully red ran in the family.

Eddard led the way into the palace, able to jump the small gap on his own. Grey Wind right behind him followed by you and then Shadow. When you finally reached the throne, Eddard became confused. He grabbed your hand and looked at you.

“We were following you today, Little Lord.”

“I don’t know,” he whispered.

You nodded and took the lead. Your feet carried you before you could process. It was a part of the palace you had never been down before— every time you tried in the past, it would feel off. Old Valyria was hot but this part of the castle ran cold. Eddard clutched at your leg as you continued forward. Rocks blocked the way. You began to clear at them and, when she saw what you were doing, Shadow began to help.

“A crypt?”

There were statues all around the hall, small urns in front of them. You had only seen one other place like this. The crypts of Winterfell. Although the urns would have been boxes for bones. But a dragon nation, it seemed more appropriate to burn the bodies and keep the ashes. There were no names written anywhere, just faces that you supposed the people of Old Valyria knew. You wondered if, as Hands to the Ruler, any of your ancestors were there. You wouldn’t know— it wasn’t like you could identify them anyway.

It wasn’t the statues that lined the walls that caught your interest but the one at the end of the crypt. You stared at what you assumed was the first king or one of the first kings, depending on how long it took to build the palace, of Valyria. He was wearing a rather simple golden crown and in his hands a large sword of Valyrian steel. The sword resembled Ned’s Ice. The statue’s stone eyes were dead. It was a crypt but no spirits lived here. You reached for the gold crown resting on the king’s stony head. Without much trouble, the large sword was taken from his grasp. You turned it over in your hand and watched how it glittered even in the dim crypt.

“It’s time to go home.”

(Part 10)...

#game of thrones fic #asoiaf fic #gendry x reader

[xxntiimulti]

「FALLEN | chapter ¹」

pair: loki x fem!reader

chapter summary: loki never knows when to stop. pushing the limits with his trickstery and leaving a bad reputation for himself from his people and towards his family and odin finally snaps.

masterlist | next part >

disclaimer: none

word count: 2.6k

notes: check masterlist for full info of the LP series.

Loki sat up in a daze feeling dirt all around him. Still not able to comprehend what had just happened, he sat there for a few minutes before looking down and realizing he didn't have any of his armor, having just been stripped off him just a couple of minutes ago.

He wore a gray shirt, one he uses before putting on his royal outfit and tight black pants. Loki looked up at the dark sky, seeing all the stars and moon just shimmering at him before letting out a loud scream of frustration as he remembered what had just happened.

Loki walked through the halls of the palace humming a simple tune while reading a book. Screams of frustration and humiliation ran over the walls making him slightly smirk knowing that he once again caught off guard all the servants and workers with his mischief. He closed his book and entered his room which he had already reached by the time every single little trick he had planted had been done.

For the past two weeks Asgard has been in shambles and while not quite literally like having other realms, kingdoms or planets attack them it was more of their own prince playing a really sick joke on them which they were tired of. No one knew what exactly ticked off their younger prince, Loki, but whatever was it they were the ones to pay for it. If they already didn’t dislike or fear him enough from his cold demeanor or his terrible attitude this had to be the last straw.

People at the stables had to go through the torture of putting the horses back in place, people at kitchen having all their ingredients mixed up or not being able to open the cabinets, servants tripping over the slippery hallways etc.; it was all a chaos. Complaints sprouted from the workers and even the outside were affected by a really strange sort of vandalism that couldn’t be exactly called that since all Loki did was ruin the perfect decorations and replace them easily with different decorations of different holidays.

This didn’t go unnoticed by the All Father, Odin nor the All Mother, Frigga who were just as tired of having to apologize to their own people because of their son’s actions. And while Frigga was the one more accepting of the childishness Loki displayed, seeing it as more of a misunderstanding and Loki just finding this a way to vent, Odin didn’t see it that way and was tired that his reputation as a King getting tarnished for not being able to control a prince childish actions of mischief.

While the punishments didn’t go much far than just a simple not being able to go to battles or losing the privilege of time to train actual seidr (which Loki detested the most since each week he always found an interesting spell to work on) or just having to undo his spells and help around; it didn’t really affect him that much.

Battles? He could care less about it. Afterall, it doesn't matter how much of a good performance he pulls off, he would always be overshadowed by his older brother, Thor.

Training did tick him off a bit, but the thought leaves his mind once he starts reading books he has been wanting to read. It is a win-win or lose scenario depending whether the book ended up being good or not.

Didn’t matter what punishment he was given, he would always rise again to create a new catastrophe, or so he thought.

Thor’s birthday was coming up and Odin decided to throw him a full banquet with many people happy to celebrate who they believe to be the best heir of the family, hoping for the crown to be passed down onto him. It wasn’t full of sunshine and rainbows either with the people getting suspicious of the young prince who for the past week hasn't done anything of trickery. Not a single string of decoration touch, nor the kitchen where they were preparing their prince's favorite meals, nothing. It was turning a bit eerie.

Thor, knowing well his brother, walks to his brother’s room where he knocks loudly enough for it to echo the empty halls. He heard a bit of shuffling before the door opened where Loki gave a bored expression and an impatient one.

“Anything that I can help you with, dear brother.” Loki seethed the last words giving a little fake smile.

Thor chuckled at his brother’s way of talking, giving his own smug smile. “Nothing wrong brother, but haven’t you noticed it has been awfully quiet. Like you know, no screams or nothing.”

Loki raised an eyebrow. “You sure you haven’t heard screams because I’m pretty sure the people are out there screaming for their oh so lovely prince tells a much more different story.”

“You know what I mean Loki.” Thor said, giving him a pointed look.

“No, I really have no idea of what you’re saying, Thor.” Loki replied even though he did know exactly what he was referring to.

Thor shook his head and sigh, "Loki, I know you–

"No you don’t." He interrupted, not pleased at where the conversation was going.

Thor send him a side glare, Loki giving him the fakest smile he had ever mustered.

"You know what you're doing and you better stop Loki. It would not end well–"

"Oh dear me, how can I ever survive not going to the libra–

"Loki." Thor said sternly, making Loki stop as they stared at each other intensely. "Look I know you are preparing the biggest trick you'll ever have played and all I'm saying is don't do it."

"How low of you to think of me like that brother." Loki said in a fake tone. "I wasn't planning anything."

Thor sighs and places his hand firmly on top of Loki's shoulder. Loki tried to shake it off, but it didn’t budge one bit.

“Look at you Thor, you’re just a child worried for nothing. Begging for their oh so special day not to be ruined. What are you 500 years old?” Loki mocked.

“Loki this is not for me, this is for you. Our father is at his brink and I don’t want you to do anything…” Thor strung out, he felt as if saying more, but the current situation and Loki acting hostile didn’t allow him to do so and could only hope Loki managed to catch the real worry that he has for him.

“And why this sudden care brother.” Loki clicked his tongue.”Been hearing the latest gossip haven’t you Thor.”

Loki saw Thor’s shift a bit and softened his grip letting it slide to his side. “You have.” Loki darkly chuckled.

“Gossip or not, we both know that dad is at his last rope.” Thor whispered harshly, noticing that a maid had just passed by quickly. “So Loki don’t do anything that might get you in more trouble than you already are. Do it for mother.”

Loki noticed the last line that Thor said knowing that it would have an effect on him, but this time he wasn’t going to let that slide. “I promise brother, I won’t do anything on your happy day.”

“Odin, please calm down!” Frigga yelled walking fast to be able to catch up to Odin who was draggin Loki to the bifrost. “All-Fat-, father, where are you taking him!” Thor demanded while also trying his best to take off the silly decorations put on him by the people.

Loki tried to shake off from the restraints put on his hands, but not even his seidr worked and for the first time ever since he started his jokes, he was scared for what was going to happen.

He had done what Thor had warned him not to do, but he couldn’t help it. It was so tempting and just so perfect and just everything clouded his mind when he did it. Was it because of jealousy, frustration, sadness, a mix of everything or just wanting to ruin everything, he didn’t know.

The party had started perfectly. The decorations were in the right place, all the food untouch from the trickery of the prince and everything was going well till the party; chaos erupts.

Now the decorations were once again changed, but formed into foreign language and nobody thought of anything till one found out that it contained really burglar words targeted towards the guests. The food turned all spoiled by Loki’s magic, the table and chairs were a mess and all this seemed to be just pure childish antics till it affected the All Father, Odin and the All Mother, Firgga.

The trick that Loki had planned to be on Thor resulted with the All-Father falling for it and the All Mother. Odin’s face and Frigga’s dress stained with the ink that exploded from the cake. It seemed like nothing harmless and something to not be given the biggest punishment, but it was the disrespect that astonished everyone in the room, even if that wasn’t the intention.

They had now arrived at the bifrost where the guards forced Loki down, in a kneeling position, in such a harsh manner with little to no respect. “I’m your prince!” Loki yelled. “Treat me as one!”

“You’re no prince with the way you have behaved!” the All-Father yelled, still cleaning his face that was filled with ink. The ink itself would be easy to take off if it weren’t mixed with a spell that Loki did that made the ink ten times harder to take off.

Loki stayed there quiet, but he had to bite his tongue to do so and the only thing he could do was glare daggers at Odin. He glanced towards the entrance of the bifrost where Frigga and Thor had just arrived, ready to defend him.

He wanted to let out a slight smile, but he knew if he did, whatever Odin was thinking of would be worse and Loki could already start imagining what the old man had planned for him. Being at the bifrost was a enough giveaway that he would be banished from Asgard for who knows how long.

Loki was worried, but the more he thought about it, he shrugged at the thought of being powerless. He’s pretty sure that with his skill tongue and powers would be enough to get a good position at whatever hierarchy he’s being sent off to.

“Don’t think that you would get away that easily from your punishment, Loki.” Odin said, signaling Heimdmall to open the bifrost. “Open it Heimdmall!”

“Odin, please don’t do this.” Frigga pleaded standing in front of her son. “Give him any other punishment.”

Loki sighs, looking down not wanting to see his mother plead for him. He also didn’t want to see the stain dress that reflected upon his trick that wasn’t meant to be for her. He could never imagine doing that to her.

Thor also stepped up. “Father, that trick was meant for me. No need to send him away.” Thor said. “I hold no grudges against my brother’s tricks done to me.”

“Both of you only think of what Loki has done to you, but never think of our people as well.” Odin started, grabbing Loki from the forearm, somehow with his old bones being able to lift him up. “Tricks done all this time and many of them affected our people. Frigga remember all those times our people came up to us and complain about our son’s doing, wishing that more was done than just a sorry.”

Loki didn’t dare to look up seeing that with just a push he would be thrown. He started to feel the gust of the bifrost opening upon him. “He’s not a little kid anymore Frigga. He’s willingly doing all this for whatever childish reason he thinks he has. If he wants respect, he would not have it. If he wants glory this is not the way to do it. He needs to learn respect and earn it because being here in Asgard seems to not be working.”

It was quiet. Frigga and Thor couldn’t even refute that no matter how much they wanted to defend Loki. They knew that others were also affected through Loki’s tricks. Frigga had an idea as to why he did it because even through Odin’s words there are flaws, but she couldn’t do much about it cause she knew that Loki would continue to vent his frustration on others.

Odin looked at Loki and harshly stripped his cape away, shocking everyone. Loki looked up to Odin trying to take off his restraints, not wanting to be sent off like just a pile of nothingness. “Father!” Thor yelled.

The next words that came out of Odin were ones Loki wished to never have heard.

“Through your stupid actions, you’ve disappointed, fear and disrespected your people who you honored to protect and rule. You are unworthy of these realms!” Odin roared, walking away from Loki. “You’re unworthy of the loved ones you have betrayed.” Loki wanted to scream hearing that line. His heart pounding so harshly against his very own chest, feeling like he couldn’t breathe. “I now take from you your power! In the name of my father and his father before, I, Odin AllFather, cast you out!”

Odin raised his sword and pointed it at Loki, a blast landing directly at him launching him to the bifrost. Loki heard muffled yells, but was blocked from what he felt to be a lot of energy leaving his body and all his armor breaking.

After his scream which he much needed, he stood up and walked around feeling his feet bare. Loki looked around seeing that everything was pretty much empty, just grass and pavement that was surrounded with light. Loki was scared to say the least., although he didn’t show it. Wherever he was, it was strange and dark, only hearing really weird noises from the distance to what he presumed to be animals.

He looked around for a bit more, still standing in the same spot he landed on.

He walked to the pavement, feeling the rocky cold floor and looked for where to go.

He tilted his head seeing a strange poll that had just changed its color, red to green. A strange loud noise was heard from behind him - he turned around and a bright white light came at him at an insane speed.

The strange object dodge him and even if Loki didn’t know what it exactly was he knew it could’ve been his death. The object stopped just a few feet away from him, the door opening seeing a young woman come out from it.

Loki couldn’t see her quite well as his vision blurred, quite tired from all the things that had just happened in the blink of an eye, he closed his eyes and fell just faintly hearing the concerns of the young woman.

"Odin, when are you thinking of bringing him back.” Frigga snapped, clearly upset at the whole situation.

Odin and Heimdall had both been whispering at each other, Heimdall telling the All-Father that Loki was in the hands of a Midgardian woman who is deemed to be a good person and someone probably able to help him. He looked towards Frigga who was breathing heavily, clearly still distressed about the situation.

“He’ll come back once he learns his lesson.” Odin firmly said, looking down at the Bifrost. “When he finally sees that there are other ways to confide his emotions, when he shows respect to those inferior to him and when he shows compassion towards those like him, then he would be granted to return, but until then we’ll just have to wait.”

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki fanfction #loki au #loki odinson #x reader #minor angst #lost prince au

[evita-shelby]

I check your blog often and I've requested Dad Tommy twice. I think it's only fair I ask for your oc Eva with her two girls. Mommy Eva sounds like a hell of a woman.

The Girls

The last part is inspired by this bad romcom i saw last night called Don’t blame Karma/que culpa tiene el Karma where a sister believes she's cursed after her sister stole her birthday wishes when they were little

Gif by @hellomadelene

Diane is four when she hugs her hard enough to make her wince.

“Florence.” She pressed a kiss on Eva’s stomach and pronounced her sister’s name.

“See, she loves her already.” Tommy points out.

If only things had stayed that way.

Arrow House is their Castle and up until 1930 it had only one princess.

And Princess Diane hated ceding her whimsical nursery for a new girl.

She had demanded the adjoining bedroom not because it was close,but because it was the second biggest one.

Eva had assumed Charlie would be the one to get jealous. He had been so intensely jealous of Gabe that they had been a little worried given he had inherited Eva’s penchant of throwing things and Tommy’s strength.

But he had taken to Gabe like a fish to water and hardly had any issues with each other.

Unlike their sisters.

“I didn’t want a sister! I wanted Polly!” Diane had kicked and screamed when they came home with Florence. There was no Polly just a red faced baby girl who’d begun crying as if she understood what her big sister had said.

Diane’s ninth birthday is celebrated in the Tea Lawn.

Arrow House has almost as many gardens as the Chapultepec Castle and the National Palace combined. There is a walled garden, a wildflower garden near the plant nursery, a kitchen garden, a tiny vineyard, an arbor garden, a flag garden and even a fish garden near the ponds and the tennis court.

Tommy had heard about the gardens before he even knew how big the house is.

You could get lost here, he had said as they explored it in 1922.

And sure enough, four year old Florence had gotten lost.

Eva immediately knew something was up when Diane spirits her sister away and neither come back in the next ten minutes.

They get along most of the time, not as bad as that first year where Diane proclaimed she’d hate Florence forever and ever.

“Mami, I lost her in the maze. I’m sorry, I’m sorry I lied and said her birthday gift was inside of it---” Diane has never lost a person before.

Eva regrets telling her the story of the minotaur. Who would’ve thought Diane would resort to scaring her five year old sister with it?

The little witch was a work of generations and luck, she always knew where to find people, even Gabriel who Eva sometimes couldn’t feel on this plane of existence.

To lose Florence who’s aura was as strong and as easy to spot as Tommy’s, it was catastrophic for her.

“It’s going to be okay, Dia, I’m sure Flora knows the way out.” Eva told the girl in her big pink dress.

Always princesses.

Eva dreads when she discovers mythology, Eva had wanted an Aztec themed party complete with fake human offerings when she was twelve to everyone’s horror.

Olivia had then made her change her mind by giving her a fairy themed party complete with fake butterfly wings for her to wear.

And sure enough Flora is right there with Tommy who had slipped away sensing trouble.

Diane is so relieved and glad that Flora wasn’t eaten by the made up monster. But Florence was not so easily mollified by her apology.

No, Flor was planning something.

She was as petty as her and as calculating as Tommy.

Eva needs to stop it before it happens, but Thomas stops her on her tracks.

“She told Flora the minotaur eats children and she ran out when she was looking, Duke found her crying in the kitchen gardens.” Tommy explains as the children play like nothing happened.

“She’s scheming, I can feel it, Tom.” The witch told her husband as she saw Duke watch his baby sisters like a hawk.

“Let her, Diane shouldn’t have done that. It’s healthy for them, and we’ll make sure neither hurt each other. Even Johnny Dogs is on his guard.” He favors Flora, he thinks she doesn’t know who his favorite child is, but she can see it like all those little things no one else knows about him.

Eva could admit that she was a little biased towards Gabe, mostly because he reminds her so much of his late uncles. He was like his namesake, quiet and thoughtful and with a gift for art.

If he liked boys and bull riding, he’d be just like Alan.

Everything is quiet, too quiet. Like the ocean before a great storm.

Then the great big cake ---all cakes at her events are marvelous works of art--- is brought out with its nine candles.

Nine whimsical golden candles ready for the birthday girl to blow.

Except the wrong girl blows them.

“I’ve stolen all your wishes!” Florence laughs as Diane begins chasing her.

“I’m glad we stopped at four.” Tommy tells her as they scrambled after them.

#eva smith shelby #tommy shelby x oc #diane shelby #florence shelby #siblings

[itznikkitty]

Rose Garden Cafe These are the four locations of the Rose Garden Cafe, a small chain of cafes that Rosy founded so that she could share good food and hospitality to people across the galaxy. Each location is on a different planet. One on Earth, one on Everdawn, one on Illum, and one on Capitol.  

Earth: This location is in the outskirts of San Francisco with a small farm and house nearby that was the home of Rosy’s adopted father, Farmer John, for the remainder of his life.  

Everdawn: This is Rosy’s home as well as the largest of her cafes. It is located on the homeworld of her people, the Mothkin. Everdawn is a beautiful, warm, tidally-locked planet with most of its habitable land locked in a perpetual twilight.

Illum: This location has been built on the Mantid homeworld because it is where Rosy’s closest friend and chosen sister, Regina, has chosen to make her new home. It has an astonishing cliffside view of Chie’s crystal palace, and is the most remote of Rosy’s cafes, being in an entirely different galaxy. It is accessible only through portals built by the Mantids which are kept hidden from all but a select few individuals that they trust.  

Capitol: This location is the most recent one and has been built on the megastructure which serves as the mobile capital of the Galactic Alliance. It was built here because it is one of the most cosmopolitan places in the entire Nozari Galaxy, given that it is able to create a wormhole allowing it to warp to any system in said galaxy. Additionally, given that Capitol is an artificial world, Rosy had a lot of freedom to mold the geography of the surrounding area. With this ability, she decided to make a recreation of her very first cafe in Windsworth, which sadly was never able to open. 

The surrounding area is also modelled after the geography of Windsworth, with the transit hub being built on the spot where the neighboring town of Smolderon would have been.  

None of the buildings other than the cafe itself and the two central trees of the town plaza and outlook were recreated, but on the spot where Farmer John’s old house would have been, there is instead a memorial dedicated to all of the people who Rosy knew from the world that has since been destroyed by The Withering. The memorial is surrounded by rose bushes, and is built in the shape of the emblem of The Swarm, with its spikes being made from amethyst, the favorite crystal of Queen Parizz Ite. 

The memorial has a display screen mounted on it which displays the emblem of the Silver Lotus as well as an extensive list of the names of each individual that Rosy knew. If a name is selected with the touch screen, a portrait of the person is displayed along with a brief description of them.

There is also a plea for anyone who comes across the memorial to provide any information they have on any of the people on the list:   

“Every name you see on this list is a person that I knew and cared about on a strange world that has since been destroyed by a horrible catastrophe. 

Each of them helped in some way to shape me into the person I am today, and showed me kindness and friendship during a time in my life when I had only begun to understand that such things were possible. 

They showed me that there was more to life than simply trying to avoid death. They showed me that I could actually enjoy my life, that I could live every day looking forward to tomorrow. I cherish every last one of them deeply, and hold their memory close to my heart. 

This cafe is a faithful recreation of the very first Rose Garden Cafe. It was something that I was very proud of, and I had hoped to open it with a big celebration where I’d invite everyone I knew. Sadly though, I was never able to do this. I had to leave, and by the time I returned, everything was gone... 

To anyone who sees this, I beg of you, please read every name you see, and tell me if you know anything at all about any of them, no matter what that may be. I still hold out hope that someday I’ll be able to hold that big celebration that we never had.”

#rosy #rose garden cafe #sketches #art #swarmsmp #scifi #fantasy

[labaguettegameuse]

And here's the two other ocs that i managed to have fun with.

Here's Nubia. An oc from the movie Gods of Egypt (2016). She never knew her real parents. She even forgets the face of her mother, as she was just a baby when they got separated. But she always remembers the sound of her singing voice, the last souvenir that refused to die out. When her adopted father found her, she was just a baby floating away in a basket on the Nil. Her adopted father was a former Medjai and was now a renown fisherman in town. He called her Nubia as she was now his greatest joy and treasure. She was stealing food in town when she was little, simply because she was unware you actually had to pay for things. Her father teaches her how to fight and defend hersel. Many years later, she grew up to be a very gorgeous woman with dark red hair and golden eyes. She still had no idea how, but she managed to end up working as a servant of hte god she believed in the most : Horus. Since the moment he has laid his eyes on her, she has never left his heart or his mind. After years of talking, exchanging looks, smile or discreetly touching hands while walking in corridors, they became secret lovers. She sang for him the first night they spend together. He has chosen her as his future wife and queen, as she was expecting their first child. He wanted to defy all olds and godly laws by officially introducing her to his parents and to the world as his better half. A human and a god together… Impossible isn't it ? But their dreams came to an end when Set ruined everything by taking the throne for himself. Nubia became a slave for sometime before escaping, so she could find her lover and help Horus recover his eyes and his throne.

Here's Nameya, The only daughter of horus. Her curse and very long life allow her (and me) to adapt and be in multiple fandom. She was unware of how special she was since she was born blind. She was abandoned and left in the streets. One day, she managed to work in a small temple who worshiped Horus. Given how bigger she was to the other humans, she managed to become a guard. And to save everyone's life in the temple after it was attacked by Set's followers. She was summoned to the palace of Horus and was greeted by the god himself. When asked what she wanted as a reward for her bravery, she simply answered that she wanted her eyes back as she was born blind. When she did get her sight back, her eyes were different. Horus noticed her eyes were the same colors as the moon and the sun and how she looked like him. He convinced her to stay, help her train and told her the truth eventually. She was mad, at first, since her life and childhood was catastrophic. A few days later, she came back to her senses and apologize to him. Since then, she never left his side and was chosen to protect the different rulers of Egypt. She was a bit more different from her dad or siblings, since she doesn't need any artefacts or armor to use and activate her powers. She would become mind control by set to fight her father during his coronation. But she managed to fight back enough to attack Set. After this, she became cursed by Anubis for breaking her oath. Whenever she would die, she might come back to life. With her memories or not. And must re-learn everything each time. She'll greatly approve of Horus relationship with Nubia. Over the centuries, her bound with her father and siblings would crumble slowly. As they were either too strict or too cold, too demanding. She becomes even more depressed and exhausted by her immortality because she keeps losing the people she cared about. She's now the director of the British museum in the Watch Dogs Legion time period.

She was originally inspired by Shiera Hall from DC, then her history changed when i watched the mummy movies from the first time. She was in the assassin's creed fandom for a while as an Isu. Then in the watch dogs legion fandom as Richard Malik's Great Grandmother. I also wanted her to be in the Moon Knight fandom.

#baldur's gate 3 #my ocs #gods of egypt #Horus #watch dogs legion #assassin's creed #plz don't come at me #i was having fun

[sunrayseer]

Keel ~ Planet of the Cosmo King

Somewhere out in the Carina Arm, on an alien world, lived a mystical monarch with green skin. King Cosmo. He had ten beautiful daughters. Heirs to his kingdom. He wanted to marry them all off, with wedding gifts galore, to the sons of different kings around the globe.

One such was the sun king. His son, the sun prince, had reached marrying age, and was looking for a love. If one of Cosmo's daughters married him, it would ensure peace between the kingdoms for years to come.

The king brushed his wispy, purple beard, looking long and hard at all ten, thinking which one would best match the prince. Which would work best as his queen. Which would most balance him out.

Finally he settled on Stella, his most admired and popular daughter. She had thousands of fans all over the world, renowned for her beauty and passion for the natural world. She especially loved the ancient lifeforms that once lived on Keel, the Draconians.

She was the perfect match for the sun prince. She loved the world, he loved spirit. She was elegant, he was rugged. Opposites in many ways. Cosmo knew they'd balance each other out, to form a solid team who could lead all sorts of people.

Trouble with Stella was, she was rather stubborn. Stubborn as a Taurok, which is the Keelish version of a bull, with bright yellow fur and a single horn.

The palace seer said she'd lived a whole other life before, with that same name, on another world, long ago, and was just as stubborn then. She wouldn't listen to the call of the wise, or the virtue of true love. Just did her own thing. Caused all sorts of catastrophes.

As punishment, the god of the galaxy made her get reborn a Taurok 28 times, before finally letting her be a House Cosmo princess in this, her current life. Would she be wise and listen this time? Finally quitting old habits? So far, it didn't seem so.

When her dad, the king, told her he'd found her a husband, know what she did? Shaved all her hair off and ran away with the professor of bone studies at the Cosmiversity of Sagittaur. The king said there will be punishments for that. Yet still she has not listened.

Rumour has it, it fractured the prince's heart to know his future had loved another. Brother Reed, a kindly monk living at the castle, sang a song of it: "What a wicked game to play. To make your one true lover feel that way. To throw true love away. Lackaday. Lack a stack of sense. I pray the good princess repents."

Ever so wise, of course, King Cosmo had a backup plan. He'd chosen a secondmost suitable daughter to take Stella's place, if the girl were to play Taurok, as the seer had predicted she may.

Electra was equally beauteous. Some would say more so. Though one could be forgiven for not seeing it. Owing to Stella's popularity. Electra is only young though. Perhaps the starlet will shine even brighter than her sister someday. Her passion is the atomic arts. The itsy bitsy bulding blocks of reality. They say there's nothing she couldn't conjure if she put her mind to it.

She would most likely get along with the sun prince better. They'd make a happier couple, have an easier love. More enjoyable for both. Yet the king knew easy wasn't always wisest. Sometimes a tough love works out best. But if the princess wasn't around for the prince to love, it wouldn't work at all.

So he asked Electra to be next in line. As well as clever, pretty and well suited, Electra was known to be wise. She believed in the spirits and the king. Her dad had little doubt she wouldn't turn the offer down if her elder sister did.

Electra knew her dad was the wisest in the world. Always made the best choices for all involved. Spoke to the spirits. Was chosen by the gods. She trusted his judgement. Whoever he said marry, she would. She promised herself that in her teens. It was then she realised how wise her pappy was. Stella hadn't yet seemed to notice.

Now you might ask why Electra couldn't just get with the prince already, as Stella was apparently too busy. But King Cosmo offered it first to her, and don't take his offers back lightly. Only when Stella's time runs out. What's more Cosmo follows the will of the gods.

One night he prayed to the gods to ask at the Oracle of Air. "Should I give Electra to the poor prince yet? Or make him wait for a bride, my lords?"

They sent a windstorm howling again and again that very night: "Stella is still the first chosen. Don't give him Electra yet."

The king, bowing as ever to those above, obeyed without question. That is why to this day, he still hasn't given Electra away. He's waiting to see if Stella first comes back.

If Electra waits patiently in all this, not rushing off to other boys like her sister, yet still don't get the sun prince, the king and gods have promised to reward her with riches and blessings. The seers predict Electra, being wise, will patiently obey her dad's commands.

If she were very proud, it would be natural to feel insulted at being just the second chosen. But being humble, Electra likes not to look down on anyone, and being wise knows secondbest is better than tenth or not at all, so thinks herself lucky. This is the right way to follow the gods. We get what they give us. We do not ask for more or look elsewhere. Stella would learn much to take a leaf or two from her book.

So being sensible and wise, Elly accepted her lot as second in line for the future sun queen position. She trusted her father and knew he would take care of her, as long as she did what he wanted.

In fact she was more worried about her rather foolish elder sister. Was she going to stop fooling around and start being wise by engaging with the sun prince soon? Or would she stay headstrong running headlong into doom?

Sometimes, Elly thought, when someone is the most blessed and has it all, they throw it all away, as they don't know how good they've got it, how lucky they are, or what they've got until its gone.

So Elly did her best to make her sister see. She signed all her letters with yellow and black magic fireball seals. The symbol of magical war. Reminding her of their father's warning: "Make not ye peace between the kingdoms, my daughter, with love, and ye shall make the opposite, and your own fault shall it be. Gods and men both shall hold you to account."

If Stella never listens and causes a war, it will be because the gods have punished her. She may end up a Taurok again when she dies, wild beast of the field reborn. With all that warblood on her hands though, the penalty could be worse this time. Perhaps even a trip to the Underwell. Keel's very own infernal hell.

Yet even if she goes to hell, a soul is never completely lost in the eyes of the galaxy god. There's always a ray of hope. Always a way back to the top.

Like the ancient Scroll of Titania says. In Chapter 3, Verse 5: "The galaxy god forgave his kids every time they sinned. Not because the kids were good. Just because they were his kids and he loved them. As long as they said sorry and changed their ways. That's what repentence means. He would give them a brand new life. In heaven or a lower realm. The most virtuous kids of course, though, would get the better jobs. Such is the galaxy god's justice. Even if they didn't believe in him. Even if they divorced him and followed the ways of wickedness. If ever they turned back, he would forgive and start to lead them back to heaven. Yet the more bad they'd done, and the longer they'd disobeyed, the further and tougher the trip back to heaven would be, over many lifetimes. Such is the justice of Galaxion."

Look forward to the second installment of Keel - Planet of King Cosmo, coming out TBA. There you'll find out if both, one or neither of the two daughters followed their father's commands, and what blessings they did or did not earn in return.

#fantasy #religion #relationship #reincarnation #spirituality #afterlife

[dreamingsushi]

Till the End of the Moon - Episode 36

Last episode ended peacefully with Susu saving Cang Jiumin which leads me to think we’re in it for pain again, now that we almost reached the end of this drama.

Susu tells her father she gives up on the heartless way because she can’t forgive about Cang Jumin. He’s fine with her dating him. Dimian accuses Jiumin of sticking around Susu to retrieve the evil bone. He scolds her for trying to seal it inside of her body without understanding its powers. She said she had no other choice and kept it a secret so it wouldn’t cause a catastrophe. Dimian notices again the demonic energy travelling in the realm.

It is Nian Baiyu, called over by Siying to entrust him with a mission. She wants him to bring Jiumin to Huangyuan and threatens to hurt some people. Perhaps the Yiyue tribe. I knew he couldn’t be a bad guy willingly. Dimian heard all of it and thinks he needs to hurry up.

Dimian and Susu’s father have thought of a plan to help Susu suppress the evil bone before her wedding. I don’t think Dimian is being truthful about his intentions. He hides too much stuff from the others. He gives Susu a tiger he sculpted from the lava rocks of Huangyuan for her. Cang Jiumin is worried about Dimian knowing about her her having the evil bone inside of her.He’ll wait for her to come out of isolation. They can’t meet anymore before the wedding.

Siying goes to visit Monü to tell her that they found the demon god’s palace. Monü asks her if she ever wondered what she wants for herself instead of giving everything she has to the demon god. Siying says she did it wholeheartedly and she needs nothing in return. The she leaves.

As expected Dimian betrays them. He arranged to extract the evil bone from Susu’s body He uses the third demonic weapon to kill Susu’s father. I knew he couldn’t be trusted. After all he betrayed his own wife to obtain the demon god’s power and only stabbed him to get him out of the way, more than to avenge Chu Huang. He could have had a redemption arc, but for now it won’t be possible for me. What he does it will never be enough to redeem himself in my opinion. He extracts the evil bone but right away Susu’s dad comes back to prevent him from taking it away. He loses his life trying.

Nian Baiyu took Cang Jiumin away while there was a commotion. It seems like he drugged him. Siying and Jingmie brought him to the demon god palace. He decides to comply with them first, before trying to escape since they must be well prepared. He opens the gate of the palace, which leads to some sort of nothingness that takes shape the further he walks ahead of him. He meets an impression of the demon god, which transforms Cang Jiumin’s appearance before showing him how he was born out of all the world’s suffering. He wants to return the world to chaos so there won’t be anymore negative energy and then he’ll be free. Don’t sit on that stupid throne Cang Jiumin! No! I said don’t sit there! Then he says in your dream... But to whom? I just hope they don’t blame him for the death of Dimian and Susu’s father.

And yupé As soon as she wakes up, Yue Ya tells Susu that Cang Jiumin stole the evil bone from her. So that’s that shitty Dimian said cause he’s not dead. Of course. Don’t believe that bullshit Susu. You’re the only one who can stop Cang Jiumin from becoming the demon god. She begs Gongye Jiwu that they don’t kill Cang Jiuming. He grounds her to her room as the sect leader. He won’t listen to her and even blames her for causing the death of her father by not disclosing the fact that she was holding on the evil bone.

Cang Jiumin wakes up in the palace, where he’s tied with chains. He knows that Susu’s mark woke him upé From his transe earlier I guess. Nian Baiyu is helping the demons to liberate his people that are entrapped by them. The only way to save them is for the demon god to be reborn, so he begs Cang Jiumin to become it. But he refuses because he cannot sacrifice more innocent people. Siying chases Nian baiyu away and tells Cang Jiumin about her backstory. The demon god saved her and her sister when he killed the God of war. She wants to destroy the order of the world because she hates it and wants to seek revenge for what happened to her sister. Then she shows him the message they sent to the Hengyang sect. He really has no break ever.

As I expected, things ended too well last episode to last very long. I still think it’s kind of annoying how the demons always have the upper hand, like the good guys are always weak and useless. Gogye Jiwu bothers me a lot by the way he’s patronizing Susu and I don’t like him anymore.

#till the end of the moon #luo yunxi #bai lu #deng wei #chen duling #xianxia #xianxia drama #costume drama #Cdrama #c-drama #chinese drama #drama review #drama recap #drama reaction

[newstfionline]

Friday, June 23, 2023

5 passengers on missing sub likely dead following ‘catastrophic implosion’ (Yahoo News) The Coast Guard announced Thursday that they believed the five passengers who disappeared while attempting to explore the Titanic shipwreck were likely lost due to a “catastrophic implosion” of their vessel. U.S. Coast Guard Rear Adm. John Mauger announced at a press conference that on Thursday morning, five major pieces of debris had been found on the seafloor about 1,600 feet from the site of the Titanic, a finding “consistent with the catastrophic loss of the pressure chamber.” The Titan had been projected to run out of its 96-hour supply of breathable air on Thursday morning. And because the door was bolted from the outside, those inside would not have been able to open it on their own even if they were able to reach the surface. Asked about the possibility of recovering remains, Mauger called the conditions “unforgiving” and said there weren’t prospects for doing so at this time.

A century later, the Titanic still fascinates (Washington Post) More than two miles under the sea, off the remote coast of Newfoundland, sits the skeleton of a ship that has captured the public’s imagination for more than a century—rusting, decaying, but still emitting a siren call that draws historians, explorers and regular people alike to study its tragic history. The Titanic has inspired books, films, video games and musicals and has afforded researchers decades of exploration and debate. It is immortalized in at least seven museums, and artifacts circle the globe as part of traveling exhibits. One hundred and eleven years after sinking to the depths of the Atlantic, the ill-fated luxury ocean liner still regularly makes news: new images of the wreck are released, replicas are built, salvage missions are launched. The Titanic has occupied a special place in human history and lore for over a century, taking on “a great metaphorical and mythical value in the human consciousness,” as director James Cameron—whose 1997 blockbuster about the sinking remains the fourth-highest-grossing film ever—said in a 2005 interview with the Independent. “It’s the implausible story: The biggest ship in the world on its maiden voyage, it’s supposed to be unsinkable and it’s full of rich and famous people, and then it hits an iceberg and it sinks,” said Titanic historian Don Lynch.

Tropical Storm Bret grows stronger as eastern Caribbean islands prepare for heavy flooding (AP) Tropical Storm Bret grew stronger on Wednesday as it took aim at islands in the eastern Caribbean that braced for torrential rainfall, landslides and flooding. Bret had maximum sustained winds of 65 mph (100 kph) on Wednesday night and was moving westward across the Atlantic Ocean. The storm was located east of Barbados and is expected to grow stronger before lashing several eastern Caribbean islands late Thursday at near hurricane strength. Tropical storm warnings were issued for St. Lucia, Dominica and the French Caribbean island of Martinique as officials in the region urged people to prepare for Bret.

Court could ban Brazil’s Bolsonaro from running for office (Washington Post) From the moment he won Brazil’s presidency, Jair Bolsonaro worked to undermine confidence in the country’s democracy. Elections were rigged, he warned. Fraud was endemic. The electoral court was controlled by corrupt partisans. The barrage of allegations is blamed for helping to drive thousands of Bolsonaristas in January to storm the capital, where they invaded the congress, presidential palace and supreme court in an effort to reverse his election loss. Now Bolsonaro is scheduled to face trial before the country’s electoral court Thursday on charges of abusing power. If convicted, the 68-year-old former leader could be barred from running for public office for eight years. He’s facing more than a dozen other investigations, some of them criminal, that could put him behind bars.

37 hurt in Paris blast (Reuters) A blast ripped through a street near Paris’ historic Latin Quarter on Wednesday and rescuers were searching for two missing people feared buried under the rubble of a building that partially collapsed in the explosion. The explosion tore through Rue Saint-Jacques, which runs from the Notre-Dame de Paris Cathedral to the Sorbonne University, in the late afternoon, injuring at least 37 people, four of whom were fighting for their lives in hospital. Witnesses said there had been a strong smell of gas moments before the blast.

Ukraine’s dreams of rebuilding run into reality of soaring costs (Washington Post) Hopes for reconstruction run high in Kharkiv, a once grand regional capital devastated by Russian bombing. Many here dream that after the war, Kharkiv will not only be rebuilt but reimagined for the 21st century, to shake off the last shackles of the Soviet Union. There is just one painful and inescapable reality: The war is not over, and neither is the destruction. Cities like Kharkiv, which sits just 25 miles from the border with Russia and is still regularly hit by attacks, must convince investors not only that the war will end soon, but that another will not follow. Nearly 16 months after the start of Russia’s invasion, Ukraine and its supporters are eager to start rebuilding, especially in areas like Kharkiv that seem safely out of Moscow’s reach. But the war could drag on—increasing costs, repelling investment and further delaying even a temporary recovery. Even if Ukraine survives militarily, some officials fear that it could end up starved economically. After shrinking by 30 percent last year, the economy, remarkably, has stabilized. But Kyiv’s debt is piling up, and its deficit continues to widen: The government estimates it is spending about $3.1 billion it doesn’t have each month, just on routine costs. Reconstruction, whenever it begins, will be expensive. The World Bank estimated in March that Ukraine needs $411 billion over a decade to recover from the war. That’s a gargantuan sum for a country already receiving $42 billion in outside funding for basic spending this year.

EU summons Kosovo and Serbia leaders for emergency talks amid fears of a return to open conflict (AP) The European Union has summoned the leaders of Serbia and Kosovo for emergency talks on Thursday to try to bring an end to a series of violent clashes near their border that is fueling fears of a return to open conflict. Serbia and its former province Kosovo have been at odds for decades. Their 1998-99 conflict left more than 10,000 people dead, mostly Kosovo Albanians. Belgrade has refused to recognize Kosovo’s 2008 declaration of independence. Tensions flared anew last month after Kosovo police seized local municipality buildings in northern Kosovo, where Serbs represent a majority, to install ethnic Albanian mayors who were elected in a local election that Serbs overwhelmingly boycotted.

After devastating floods in Pakistan, some are still struggling (AP) Last summer’s flooding in Pakistan killed at least 1,700 people, destroyed millions of homes, wiped out swathes of farmland, and caused billions of dollars in economic losses. All in a matter of months. At one point, a third of the country was underwater. A year on, the country hasn’t fully recovered. The aftermath runs the length of the country; survivors living in makeshift huts where their homes used to be, millions of children out of school, damaged infrastructure waiting to be repaired. Almost 8 million people were displaced at the height of the crisis. But there is no information on how many people remain homeless or live in temporary shelters. Aid agencies and charities provide up-to-date pictures of life, saying millions remain deprived of clean drinking water and that child malnutrition rates have increased in flood-affected areas.

A once-banned Modi is making history in Washington (Washington Post) Narendra Modi will make history on Thursday. Other Indian leaders have addressed Congress before, but none have done so twice. Modi’s address is part of a high-profile visit to Washington that also includes his first state dinner at the White House on Thursday evening. The pomp is remarkable when you consider the lengths to which he was once kept by American leaders. Modi, then the chief minister of Gujarat, a state in western India, was effectively denied entry to the United States in 2005 over allegations related to religious mob violence that led to the deaths of about a thousand people, mostly Muslims. But things changed quickly after Modi became prime minister of India in 2014. That year he delivered a speech at Madison Square Garden after receiving the visa he was once denied. Modi’s rehabilitation in the United States says more about India than him personally. India overtook its neighboring giant, China, to become the world’s most populous nation last year. Unlike China, many of its 1.4 billion or so population are young, so the country is expected to keep growing for decades. Trade with the United States has boomed under Modi’s watch, with India now often seen in Washington as a potential bulwark for global trade as it shifts away from an inward-looking China and an isolated Russia.

Temple visits rise in China as jobless young people seek spiritual assistance (Guardian) In the search for a job in a gloomy economy, many young people in China are hoping for divine intervention. According to data released by the Chinese travel platform Qunar, the number of visitors to temple scenic spots increased by 367% in the first quarter of this year, compared with the same period in 2022. Much of that increase can be accounted for by the opening up of tourist and cultural destinations since zero-Covid restrictions were abandoned in December. But some other religious sites are also experiencing increases in visitors compared with their pre-Covid levels. In May, the unemployment rate for 16- to 24-year-olds hit 20.8%. The phrase “incense-burning youth” has caught fire on social media, referring to young people who have turned to spiritual offerings in an attempt to increase their prospects. Although the Chinese Communist party is officially atheist, many people turn to ancient practices in times of need.

Deadly accidents are commonplace in China (AP) At least 31 people were killed and seven injured when cooking gas exploded at a restaurant in Yinchuan in northwestern China. It was the latest in China’s long history of deadly industrial accidents, which occur regularly despite government pledges to clamp down on lax standards, poor oversight and corruption frequently blamed for the collapse of buildings, mine cave-ins, explosions and other disasters.

Israeli settlers storm into Palestinian town in West Bank as Israeli airstrike escalates crackdown (AP) Hundreds of Israeli settlers stormed into a Palestinian town in the occupied West Bank on Wednesday, setting fire to dozens of cars and homes to avenge the deaths of four Israelis killed by Palestinian gunmen the previous day, residents said. Palestinians said one man was killed in the violence. After nightfall, Israel carried out a rare airstrike on a car carrying suspected Palestinian gunmen in the West Bank. The drone strike, believed to be the first in the area in nearly 20 years, marked a major escalation by Israel in a more than year-long campaign against militants in the area. Palestinian media reported three were killed in the strike. The fighting further raised tensions heightened this week by a daylong Israeli military raid that killed seven people, including a 15-year-old girl, in a militant stronghold, and Tuesday’s mass shooting, whose victims included a 17-year-old Israeli boy.

Sesame: How regulation works (Money Stuff) Congress passed legislation intended to make life better for people allergic to sesame seeds. Instead, it made things worse. The bill, passed with overwhelming bipartisan support and signed into law by President Biden in 2021, requires manufacturers to label sesame on their products starting this year. In response, some companies began adding sesame to products that hadn’t included it in the past—saying it was safer to add sesame and label it, rather than certify they had eliminated all traces of it. People with sesame allergies say the result is fewer sesame-free food options, as well as new and unexpected risks from sesame in foods they used to eat without worry. The issue is that it is hard to eliminate trace amounts of sesame, and the law now requires food manufacturers to label sesame as an allergen. Not putting sesame on the label effectively constitutes a promise that there is no sesame in the product, and if there is a little bit, then you get in trouble. But if you say that the product definitely contains sesame, then you are immunized from trouble. So you just chuck some sesame into everything, change the labels, and you’re fine.

#headlines #news

[lilnanyangs]

❝ i never thought i'd see another scholar in a martial palace! ❞ yan song wasn't exactly a scholar, but his work more aligned itself within the literary world rather than the martial world. he & cai shirong seemed to be the only inhabitants between the palace of xuan zhen & nan yang ... maybe there were others?

he's never had anyone by his side ever since he chose to walk the path of a cultivator. not many people stepped foot in his world anymore. a part of him was glad he never knew how lonely it'd be.

if someone did, maybe he'd never walk it in the first place.

but just meeting another, no matter how faraway, made his enthusiasm grow.

❝ what do you study? why did you get recruited by general nan yang? what are your favorite subjects? ❞

( loftypines / to cai shirong )

@loftypines

Recopying books and scrolls was a task others often found tedious, yet Cai Shirong considered it soothing. More artful than mentally tasking, yet calling for just enough of his meticulous attention to prevent errors than he found himself wholly unaware of the outside world. It was with this sentiment he set to the task of recopying dozens of General Nan Yang’s own field reports and investigations...

Until a person seemed to materialize at his side—questions bubbling up with hardly a breath between them and enough enthusiasm to match Qin Zhaoming—

“ EEK—! ” His startled shriek came accompanied with a slight jump backwards—not nearly enough to upset the table—and arms snatching back from his scrolls to tuck into his chest, brush still in hand.

“Oh sh—oh no.” In his fright, Cai Shirong had somehow managed to swipe his ink-laden brush across his cheek and dribble some along his collar. He could feel it drying on his skin in some places and rolling down his neck in others.

Dammit. Not his favorite blue robe.

Still, he supposed, it could have been worse. In the past such fright would have sent Cai Shirong jumping wholly out of his skin—jamming his knees into the desk and spilling his ink, ruining his scrolls and robes and causing such a catastrophe he would be lucky if it only took a week without sleep to fix. Centuries spent in Nan Yang palace, however, had tempered him. A little ink on his person was almost nothing.

He took a deep breath and set down his brush. Alright. Alright. It was fine. “ S-Sorry about that—you, I... I was a bit absorbed—uh... ” Didn’t this person seem a bit familiar...? Cai Shirong couldn’t seem to place  him though... Anyways, what was the question? Something about his studies?

“ You ah, asked about why General Nan Yang recruited me? I was an ex... ” he covered his mouth to cleared his throat—no need to get into the specifics about that actually. The gesture made the dried ink on his face crackle. “ Ahem, I was a former Imperial scholar and General Nan Yang, ah, wanted an archivist to make sorting prayers and records easier but... well I got a bit carried away and... ”

He gestured vaguely to the space around them, with it’s high ceilings and multi-tiered mezzanines and sprawling wings—all jam packed with countless scrolls—interspersed with cushy reading areas “ It ended up turning into this. ”

#loftypines #〈 ☀ — ❝ 士荣 ; bringing order to the chaos — ic ❞ 〉 #// enjoy a very qoot very anxious scholar #// no he's not going to do anything about the ink on his face

[luckyduckydoo]

saltwater tears - one ♛

18+ MINORS DNI

I do not give permission for my stories to be resposted on other platforms or translated in other languages. If you see my story anywhere, please be sure to contact me.

pairings: king!steve x female oc, king!steve x peggy carter (implied in passing)

warnings: death, mentions of grief, betrayal, mentions of magic, peggy carter, implications of peggy x steve, angst, kissing, heavy petting, implied smut

previous - next

word count: 4.3K

you are responsible for the media you consume

all mistakes are my own!

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Greenery consistently left her in a state of curious peculiarity.

Especially that of green in abundance. Hanging vines that encircled aging stone, hefty trees leaving dying leaves in their wake.

Their chaos could be enthralling or catastrophic with just a slight shift in the weather pattern. Hiding enemy forces in their vegetation or abundances of sweet fruits to keep a traveler at bay.

There was no telling unless one grew close and investigated the side they would see.

They hardly compared to the delicate perennials that made up the beauty of the sea’s vegetation.

Harmless little buds to bring the seaside to life, make a sight of the harsh rockiness that was home to the beach.

Perhaps it was what enchanted him. The uncertainty and strength that lied beneath unassumingly sharp jade shrubs and deceptively sightly azaleas. T

he light and airy expanse of patchy olive forest floor where kings and political endeavors hardly mattered.

He stayed in the garden in times of distress. The sun always moved at its highest, reflecting gently off his jeweled crown. His hands had never been more precise than when he interacted with plants.

He told her it was a means of keeping his hands busy with a productive pleasantry, as opposed to ripping his hair out.

It was where she found him after she’d seen the letter in his office. It stuck out among the messily strewn documents and haphazardly bookmarked novels. It was neatly unfolded, a more pristine parchment than what he had.

The scent of lavender and mint brought her closer, recognizing the musk immediately. His mother tended to perfume her parchment, a staple that she admired as a young girl.

Lilli took the paper between her slender fingers, flattening out the parchment as her dark eyes scanned the unfamiliar penmanship.

The scrawl was messier than Sarah’s, almost as if the person was in a rush to send this out. Her blood ran cold as started understanding the difficult read, bile making its way up her throat.

She hadn’t recalled the parchment leaving her grip, only her feet carrying her down the stretch of hallway.

It seemed to go on for miles. And so did the people that made up court.

She always thought there weren’t many royals wandering the halls. It was always a bit too silent for her liking. The palace never felt lived in.

But in this moment, that was all she wanted. The white noise of silence.

As fast as she could carry herself, Lilli made the descent to the garden.

Pushing and squeezing past the ever growing court, tunnel vision drawn to the pair of somber blue eyes that belonged to her husband.

She slowed to a brisk stroll as the sun’s heat met with her brown skin, settling her ablaze from within her gown’s constraints.

The letter’s contents flashed in disorienting chunks as she tugged at her dark hair, eyes scanning the garden for her husband.

His walks ended under the white-lined gazebo, usually having picked a few individual flowers in bloom. He nearly stayed for hours after his father’s death.

We would regret to inform you of Queen Sarah’s untimely and unexpected death.

Her finger grazed over the azaleas, through the unassuming shrubs and past the intimidating hanging vines that lined the stone walls.

A trail of petals led her towards a sharp turn.

She passed through the wall of lilies and roses bleeding into a maze. The turns were exhausting, suffocating as she desperately searched for an escape.

The need for the white noise returned, silently wishing she could turn back and lose herself in the depths of the sea.

Lilli stopped before the gazebo to see Steve.

His back was turned from its entrance, heavy crown discarded on the marble bench and soft sniffles resounding in the perfumed air.

Funeral arrangements rely on the next of kin, thus the estate leaves these duties to the current king, Steven Grant of House Rogers, and his spouse, Lilli Dalia of House Reshpar.

Lifting her skirts, she ascended the steps. It was careful and quiet, as to not disturb his peace. He barely flinched at her presence but she knew he was aware of it.

He always was.

She sat herself on the bench beside him, hands fidgeting in her lap and bangs curtaining her sight away from his expression. Looking was not necessary to know his feelings.

The silence between them was heavy. The birds sang their tunes, water ran in a fluid wave of calm, trees lightly bristling. And yet, there was no noise within it all.

A thick cloud of melancholic discomfort that rivaled any white noise she could have sought after. The silence of grief differed in its own sickening way. It was relieving and frightening all at once.

“I thought I would find you here.” Her voice was soft, meek and uncertain.

Steve barely shifted besides his boots clumsily clunking together as his feet shuffled underneath him. Lilli gulped, hands meshing together awkwardly.

“How many more flowers have bloomed since—“

“Three days.”

She pushed her hair behind her ear, glancing over at him. “What?”

“The letter,” he clarifies. “It was sent three days ago.”

It was his turn to lift his head and look at her, cobalt eyes glossy and wide. His hair framed his face, just shy of hiding the escaped tears. She parted her lips to speak, but he was quicker.

“How did I miss this? I…If I had known, I could have done something.”

She frowned and shifted in her spot. “How would you have known? Breukelen’s over a week’s ride from here. You did all you could.”

Steve shook his head, leaning forward on his thighs. “I wish that was true.”

“It’s as true as it can be.” Lilli moved to sit beside him, cradling his crown in her lap. The jewel was heavy, bearing its weight in her hands. “You did what you knew how to do.”

“Ignore most things until they come to a nasty head?” He omitted a dry laugh, fumbling with his wedding band.

“You were present until you didn’t know how to be,” she whispered. “Made it work as best as you were able.”

It was evident his belief in her words was slim. All he did was shake his head, an amused grin on his face.

It was a confusing way to digest his grief, but she could hardly question it. She was one to burst into unhinged giggles at funerals to temporarily dispose of grief.

But he was digesting.

Slow and precise, likely unable to understand the permanent state that was the news of his mother’s death. The furrow of his brows and slow downturn of his mouth told the story.

“You’re just saying these things to make it hurt less.”

She wanted it to hurt less for him. It never would, she knew that. The bite from her father’s death always festered and grew on most days.

It merely took living to understand dying, but even then…it was never as simple as it seemed.

But the effort was better than unmoving assumptions. Guiding him was all she could do. She had the sea, he had her and the deceptive azaleas.

Lilli smiled and set a hand on his forearm, giving it a subtle squeeze. “Is it working?”

He smiled, pure and true, as he gave her a slow nod and molded his hand over her smaller one. “I wish, darling.”

The days following the revelation of the queen mother’s death were nothing but immense chaos.

They worked together dispersing letters from kingdom to kingdom to spread news and prepare for an untimely funeral.

Arrangements were hardly a simple task. Steve had his most trusted advisors rushing their way through court to confirm plans and catch up with the royal messengers for letter distribution.

When he disappeared to the gazebo or to take a walk, Lilli oversaw much of the plans.

Coordinating and communicating with the queen mother’s estate, ensuring royal attendance, requesting imports in his name. Requesting her handmaid, Wanda, to run with her to find the messengers.

She breezed her way through parchment well into the early morning. Dark eyes heavy, wrist sore, fingers cramping at slight movements.

There was hardly time to do much else. Or…as much as she thought.

James and Samuel were beacons of light in the past few days.

If she was dozing off in Steve’s office, James—who went by Bucky—was there to continue the work she had started. Samuel was the same, but could also get a laugh out of her and Steve if the time arose for such pleasantries.

The three worked through the guest list and seating arrangements currently while Steve was out riding. She suggested he do so after having been cooped in his office from dusk to dawn the day before.

He was her priority as of now next to the somber event they were breaking themselves to plan.

“Your Majesty, I recommend moving Grand Duchess Yelena from King Anthony,” Bucky said pointedly. “I rather not recall their incident at the Spring Feast.”

Lilli stared at the extensive chart, the mentioned names sticking out sorely.

Memories of the angry blonde screaming expletives at the smug older man caused her to grimace, glancing over at the advisor and nodding in agreement.

“She pulled her punches, I’m sure of it.” Sam was leaning against the wall with an amused smile, having been rarely pointing out guests and messily-plotted plans for continuity.

“I’m sure she did, Tony can be frustrating,” she sighed out as she unpinned the used parchment from her makeshift board. “But I’m in agreement with Bucky on not recalling the events. We’ll put both Grand Duchesses elsewhere for safety precautions.”

Sam visibly frowned, lifting himself from the wall and eyeing the guest list, giving it another once over before asking, “Where are you putting Duchess Margaret?”

The name struck a chord in the queen. One that didn’t resonate with anger, but it was hardly s pleasant feeling. Looking at him, Lilli gave a confused shrug. “What do you mean?”

Bucky stared between the two, clearing his throat and stumbling over his words.

“Sam—I’m not sure you were supposed to ask that—“

“Steve didn’t tell you?” Sam appeared incredulous, matching the growing frown on Lilli’s face.

She had discarded the current distraction, completely fixated on Sam and the careful steps he was taking around his words.

“What was he supposed to tell me?”

Sam and Bucky shared a look. The usually grumpy man had visibly tense shoulders, eyes wide and lips pulled into a tight line.

The other flickered his gaze between the frustrated queen and his longtime friend. The visible struggle to expel the words had Lilli’s palms sweating, stomach turning in knots and brows knit in a frown.

“Duchess Margaret is supposed to be attending the funeral, Your Majesty.”

The words died on Sam’s lips as her ears rang. It was incessant, a punctuating pain that sent her spiraling.

Her heart hammered vigorously in her ears, feet carrying her from the board to compartmentalize the information.

“For what? Isn’t…Isn’t she in mourning?”

“Widows mourn for six months to a year,” Bucky interjected. “But it doesn’t stop them from attending social events.”

Lilli blinked and inhaled sharply, fumbling with her fingers before mumbling, “There was no indication she was coming to Eushire, let alone attending the funeral.”

“Steve said he wanted her support.” Sam was scratching the back of his neck, seemingly wishing he’d kept his mouth shut.

Had her support not been enough for him? Was she the equivalent of scraping the barrel’s bottom?

She was bending herself backwards to ensure he was the priority in the past few days.

Coordinate a proper funeral for his mother. Ensure the people of the court weren’t stepping over cracks around him and pitying him to ridiculous degrees.

But his previous betrothed was who he sought after for emotional assistance. Sure, they were wed and Margaret had been, as well.

That never stopped her from discarding her marital status to convince Steve to discard his own. It was as if he hadn’t had a wife for the past decade when Margaret entered a room.

The urge to discard all plans was strengthening. Forgo the board and allow his advisors to bring the event together as best as they could.

She had no obligation to honor her mother-in-law as extensively as she was planning. It was his mother, after all.

Lilli kept her stiff upper lip, straightening her back and exhaling quietly. Tears brimmed her eyes, though she blinked them away and disregarded the hollow swell of her chest bubbling into her throat.

“Your Majesty?”

She turned back to the board, eyes hard and set as a singular tear fell. She had the sea, and he had Margaret.

“Add Duchess Margaret to the list.”

The night fell sooner than Lilli had expected. She had moved from Steve’s office after the news of Duchess Margaret’s impending arrival, trapping herself in her chambers with the hefty and elaborate board at her disposal.

Steve hadn’t returned from his outing until the brink of dusk, the orange glow of the evening sky settling over the kingdom when he entered the castle.

She heard that he barricaded himself in his office, the people of court not having seem him since then.

It took a great deal of strength not to seek him out and see about him. But it all stopped when she focused on the noises coming from the balcony.

The sea called to her with its musical waves, clashing in an angry dance with the wind. The salted air sent her into a state of relaxed euphoria until Wanda came in to prepare her for bed.

She hadn’t interacted with anyone since speaking to Sam and Bucky, thus she couldn’t help but spew her concerns to her handmaiden in a frustrating rant.

“I just don’t understand him. I know he’s in mourning and needs another helping hand, which is no issue. But why her, of all people?”

Wanda hummed softly as she folded one of those horribly elaborate gowns, lips pursed and nimble fingers busy as the queen went on. “She is a close companion, my queen.”

“Perhaps,” Lilli drawled, dipping herself into the soft mattress after having bathed and undressed. “But does he not see that she lacks respect for our marriage? It’s not difficult to see when she’s batting his lashes at him miles away.”

“Maybe it’s something he wishes not to see. Or…”

The queen perked up, hiked up on her knees and leaning towards the other woman. “Or?”

Wanda placed her hands before her politely, nearly tip toeing towards the sitting area to tend to her nightly tea remedy.

“Maybe she’s forcing him to see something else.”

She turned away from Lilli and pulled a pouch from her skirts, fingers feeling along the bright amber petals.

It was so familiar to the queen that she hardly noticed the process anymore.

“Seduction is a magical form, I’d say that—“

“I don’t mean the mundaneness of human emotions, Your Majesty.” Wanda rubbed the petals between her fingers, watching as they crumbled to golden flakes into the porcelain.

Liquid gold steam ascended from the teacup, spurting into a conglomeration of intricate spirals.

The scent of honey and earth wafted in the air, immediately relaxing Lilli’s muscles. She still had her curiosities, nearly disappearing into the pillows as Wanda came forward carefully with the saucer and teacup.

“You mean magic,” she confirmed as she took the cup, cradling its handle. “She doesn’t seem like the type to use a mage.”

“There is no type, my queen.” Wanda came to sit across from Lilli, leaning on one arm lazily. “Merely those who are willing and unwilling.”

Lilli frowned into the teacup, taking a precise sip and staring down at the warm liquid. She spoke before her mind caught up to it entirely. “How much more will I need before this takes effect?”

Wanda hadn’t processed the sudden shift but answered to her best ability. “About three more cups. Pietro hasn’t returned from town with the new herbs, and this is my quickest remedy.”

“I don’t mean to question your knowledge, I just want this to be as untraceable as possible. Couldn’t imagine what would happen if he found out.”

“Your secret is safe with me, Your Majesty.” Wanda smiled. “You’re in luck. These make wonderful decorations for the Summer Feast.”

Lilli smiled, though it faltered as the chamber doors opened and Steve galavanted his way inside. He wore a deep frown on his face, blue eyes lowered to the ground and chest puffed out.

Wanda immediately rose from the bed, straightening her back and lowering herself into a polite curtsy.

“Your Majesty. I was just tending to the queen before it was time to—“

“Thank you. You may take your leave.”

The handmaiden glanced at the queen, who gave her a subtle shrug and slight nod.

Wanda hid her frown with a neutral stare, scurrying out of the room and shutting the door behind her.

“Any particular reason you kicked out my handmaid?” Lilli didn’t sound particularly chirpy, but her terrible mood wasn’t quite obvious either. Not as much as his.

“I have that authority, and I would like to spend some time with my wife alone.”

It didn’t register to her that he was undressing until she took her eyes from her teacup to see him fiddling with his tunic.

“Funny of you to assume your wife has the energy for that.” She was circling the cup’s rim with her index finger lazily, the slow and methodical movement causing her to burrow further into the duvet. “Especially after what I found out today.”

Steve glanced at her, brows quirked in a confused frown. “And what is that, my love?”

“A little bird told me that Duchess Margaret would be attending your mother’s funeral.”

He was slow in his movements, hands stilling against the strings that held his tunic together.

She could faintly see a tinge of red under his beard, smugly thinking about how she caught him.

“Whoever your little bird should be is correct,” he confirmed as he rounded the elaborate bedpost to join her. “Is there an issue with such decisions?”

Arguing would do her no good. But an outburst was bubbling in her throat, begging for an audience.

“Not at all.” Lilli kept her dark eyes on the floating petals in the cup, their scent dizzyingly intoxicating.

“Lilli…”

She glanced over at him, holding onto her anger as best as she could. He kept this from her. She had a right to be angry with him.

If their relationship was so innocuous, why was he hiding it?

She couldn’t help but cave, then.

“She has no respect for boundaries, Steve. Every time she comes to court, she’s practically draping herself on your arm. As if I’m not your wife.”

“She’s playful that way,” he defended. “She’s an affectionate person, doll. And you know my feelings for you.”

“What about your feelings for her?”

Lilli was pouting, brows furrowed and eyes rounded from a distant melancholy. She was frustrated, it was true, but there was such deep sadness buried underneath it all.

She wanted him to understand.

See that Margaret was more than an affectionate companion with a pretty face. It may have been childish, but she refused to admit such defeats now.

He shifted in his spot, fingertips tracing along her forearm and moving upward. It was tantalizingly slow, something she willed herself to ignore.

“She’s nothing more than a friend,” he mumbled as he pressed his lips to her arm, draping his around her waist loosely. “A friend whose support I would appreciate dearly. Her and Mother were close, I’d hate to exclude her.”

Lilli closed her eyes and sighed. She longed to support him in all his endeavors. She knew grieving alone wasn’t always preferred.

Grief wasn’t one to pick and choose who to share those feelings with, as unconventional as some pairings may be.

She knew this wasn’t about her. It was about him and what allowed him to heal adequately. That little siren in her head hadn’t ceased its warning calls, though.

With a soft exhale, she mumbled, “Fine, fine. Not sure if your attempt at seduction is making me change my mind or your genuine need for your friend.”

“Can it be both?”

He pulled himself into an upright position to nuzzle at her neck, nosing along her skin and peppering kisses amid his journey.

She cleared her throat, tightening her grip on her teacup to keep herself grounded. She wasn’t falling for his tricks right now.

“Not sure if that’s a good thing,” she hummed.

But he wasn’t faltering, by any means. Merely further egging her on with simple yet effective touches.

A hand on her thigh, fumbling with the measly fabric that made up her nightgown. A quick kiss against her jaw, just nearing sloppy and impatient.

“You know you can’t ignore me, doll.” His voice deepened, luring her in to go along with his evident desires.

But she held her head up high and vowed to disregard the image of his darkening eyes from her mind.

“Bold of you to assume I can’t.” Her voice broke into a breathy whine as his hand found its way underneath her nightgown, curious fingers splaying out against her belly and dipping lower.

No, no, no. Don’t give in.

He pressed his face against hers, his beard soft against her heated skin. He was smiling, based on the squish of his cheeks, and hummed softly in her ear before kissing underneath it.

Don’t give in.

He was a menace. And she was spiraling further down the path he sought after.

When his hand made its way between her thighs, she nearly dropped her teacup and its contents, but he was quicker than her in this moment.

Fuck.

Steve plucked it from her grasp and set it on his bedside table, pushing himself up to hover over her but she was faster this time. Her fingers grasped at his shoulders and pulled him down, meeting him in a heated kiss.

Teeth clashed, fingers gripped desperately at exposed skin and fabric. Wanton moans and raspy grunts filled the air between them. She made the effort to messily run her fingers through his hair, almost as a means of requirement.

Nearly a weeks’ worth of complicated emotions culminated into this moment. From the dedicated time he spent with his face buried between her thighs to the slow grind of his hips against hers, it was simple to let it all go for the moment.

Disregard her duties as a leader and comforter. Break down her stubborn walls and simply be with him.

Be wanted. Be touched, cared for.

Just be.

Lilli didn’t recall falling asleep. Nor did she realize how early their night ended after the time they spent, as the moon rose high in the salted air.

When she awoke, she was nestled underneath the duvet. Steve entrapped her against him, his arm encircling her waist.

His even breathing and body heat nearly lulled her back to sleep, a sated grin on her sleepy face before she spotted something on the table near the tea tray.

A quill and piece of parchment.

She would have remembered writing a letter. But that wasn’t the quill she used. It was from his office.

Carefully turning onto her other side, she looked over at the sleeping man. Admittedly, she couldn’t help but smile.

His lips were parted, lightly snoring and eyes fluttering. His hair fell in his eyes, almost childishly so.

She reached over to move the hair behind his ear, lightly smoothing out the furrow between his brows with her thumb, tracing along his face and pressing her palm against his chest.

Seeing him like this was comforting. In a state of peace and calm. No need for putting on a display of straight-laced leadership. The court saw him as a means of survival and stability. The strength of a nation.

But she only saw him as a man in need of a break. Kind and timid when time allowed it.

Lilli grabbed hold of his thick wrist, placing it at his side and slipping from the bed. Shivering, she sought out his tunic and haphazardly pulled it over her head before approaching her target.

A light creak resounded in the air, startling and sharp. She tensed immediately, inhaling sharply and swallowing it down.

She glanced back at him to ensure he was still asleep. His back faced her, his breath evening out once again. She exhaled softly and continuing forward.

Tip toeing against the carpet, Lilli neared the table and carefully situated herself in the seat as her eyes scanned the letter.

It was unfinished evidently but the name at the top sparked a noise in the back of her mind.

My dearest Margaret.

Her eyes glossed over the remainder, gnawing incessantly at her raw lips.

He was informing her of his mother’s death, politely inviting the duchess to the funeral. Vaguely discussing the Summer Feast within the next month.

But something stuck out to her. Some that made her belly turn with nausea.

It would be a pleasure if you joined us at court. Seeing you daily would truly make things worthwhile, my love. And I would love the opportunity to name you Summer Queen.

Lilli leaned back against the chair, glossy eyes flickering between her husband and the parchment. She questioned the validity of her feelings and his.

Summer Queen meant nothing to her, it was merely a title for entertainment. But the implications of his wants told her much about his feelings.

And they frightened her dearly.

i hope everyone enjoyed this chapter! it took me so long to churn it out but its here! sorry if it’s still a bit slow, things are sure to heat up soon. please comment and reblog!

#steve rogers #steve rogers au #steve rogers x oc #king!steve #marvel fic #chris evans character #chris evans #wanda maximoff #peggy carter #saltwater tears

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Shaw’s 2021 Birthday R&S

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for an R&S which has not been released in EN! 🍒

Knowledge of Shaw’s 2020 Birthday R&S is highly recommended before reading this!

[ This R&S was released on 16 June 2021 ]

[ Chapter One ]

This is the fifth month that Shaw is learning how to skateboard. The little buddies who started out with him had given up one after the other because they couldn’t endure the bitter taste of tripping and falling. In the end, he’s the only one left.

The wheels grate against the ground in a regular rhythm. Leaping over the obstacle, it makes a swerve, accelerates, and flips... the skateboard is lithe and graceful beneath Shaw’s feet, akin to a reed leaf as it brings him into the largest skatepark in Loveland City with a wilful rush.

“Shaw! Shaw!”

Shaw halts the skateboard and turns around.

A little fatty with a band-aid on his knee walks over, smiling and revealing his missing front teeth. “Finally found you.”

Shaw laughs scornfully. “Why’s a defeated opponent looking for me? Do you want to lose the remaining half of your front teeth?”

“You!” Little Fatty flushes red in an instant. He straightens his neck and points to an area behind him. “I’m not competing with you. Someone else wants to!”

Shaw looks in the direction of his finger. A boy who is obviously taller than him by a head smiles at him, the skateboard beneath his feet sliding back and forth. At a glance, it’s clear that he’s experienced.

“My Bro Zhou is in the Loveland City Qing Xun Team,” Little Fatty hugs his arms with pride, as though he’s the one in the team. “So? Dare to accept it?”

So that’s how it is. He’s a scaredy cat who only dares to call in reinforcements.

Shaw purses his lips. He steps on the tail of the skateboard, and it responds by flipping upwards, the the edge of the board landing steadily in his palm. “Why not? What are we competing in?”

Bro Zhou shrugs. “I won’t make things hard for newbies. We’ll compete in tic-tacs and going over obstacles. How’s that?”

“Sure.”

[Trivia] Tic-tacs are a series of consecutive heelside-to-toeside kickturns where your feet remain on the skateboard. I copied this from Google and have no idea what it means LOL

-

THUD-

Losing his balance for just a moment, Shaw falls heavily onto the ground. His knees, elbows... waves of pain bloom on every joint. It isn’t a good feeling, but what makes Shaw even more frustrated is the arrogant laughter of Little Fatty. t’s even noisier than the cicadas from afar.

“HAHAHAHA Shaw lost! Let’s see if you still have the guts to be proud!”

He has a lot to say despite being a noob. Shaw rolls his eyes. Enduring the pain, he’s just about to lift himself up by the elbows when Bro Zhou walks over to him, offering him a hand. “Not bad.”

“Thanks.”

The other party continues. “But at your age, it’s best to stick to the basics. There’s no hurry to learn high difficulty moves like the dolphin flip. You’ll definitely fall.”

Shaw’s expression immediately turns cold. “I don’t need your pointers on what I can learn at whatever age.” He doesn’t touch the hand, standing up by himself. Lifting his head, he gives the other party a look over. “Do you come here often?”

“The Qing Xun Team practises here every day.”

“Okay. Next time, I’ll definitely win against you.”

Shaw doesn’t bother about the expressions on Bro Zhou’s and the Little Fatty’s faces after hearing his words. He casually pats off the dust on his body, picks up the skateboard which is flipped over on the floor, and leaves the skatepark.

-

[ Chapter Two ]

The moment Shaw enters through the doors of the antique store, the Old Man’s uproar begins. “Little Ancestor, did you wreck havoc in the Heavenly Palace again?”

[Note] Here, the Old Man calls Shaw “小祖宗”, which literally means “Little Ancestor”. This term is used in an affectionate way to address a naughty child

“Wrecking havoc in the Heavenly Palace” is a reference to a novel called Journey to the West (西游记), which features a troublemaking Monkey King Sun Wukong

“I’m hungry. What’s there to eat today?” Shaw doesn’t respond to the shopkeeper’s words. Placing his bag and skateboard behind the counter, he reaches out to play with the silly parrot at the entrance - it’s truly silly. Even after teaching it for a month, it can’t even say “welcome to the shop”. It causes Shaw to wonder if the Old Man was perhaps duped of his money once again.

“All you know how to do is eat...” The Old Man sets down the ancient text in his hands and props up his presbyopic glasses. “Old Qian from next door boiled chicken soup today and is giving us half. I’ll stir-fry two dishes. You can ask if the chicken soup is ready.”

Shaw makes an “mm” of acknowledgement, then turns around and heads next door.

The shopkeeper gets up and takes a few steps towards the kitchen. Then, he abruptly returns to the counter, reaching out to touch the coarse scratch marks at the edge of the skateboard. Inexplicably, he sighs.

The chicken soup is a little bland, and the stir-fried dishes are a little salty. Mixing and eating them together is just nice. Shaw lowers his head and pushes rice into his mouth with chopsticks. In his left ear, he hears the news of how the GDP of Loveland City has risen. In his right ear, he hears the nagging of his mentor:

“...I’m not discouraging you from playing with this thing. It’s good to toughen yourself up while you’re young and your bones and muscles are sturdy. But don’t be too rash. This... this thing of yours...”

“Skateboard.” Shaw speaks.

“Yes, skateboard. I remember that it’s only been a month since it was bought, and it’s already tormented to such a state. You have such an impulsive temperament. You should be more level-headed.”

What does this have to do with temperament? If I were to truly be impulsive, I wouldn’t need a month. Just three days would be enough to break a skateboard. Shaw looks at the chicken leg in his bowl, not saying these words aloud.

“Also, remember to report to the shop early tomorrow. Old Qian and I are preparing to head to the neighbouring city to look for goods. You should come along to broaden your horizons.” The shopkeeper taps his chopsticks against the rim of the bowl, signalling for Shaw to pay more attention. “Isn’t it your birthday tomorrow? I could pick out a gift for you! Sigh, I actually had my eye on an agate snuff bottle, but the guy suddenly decided not to sell it...”

“I’m not going tomorrow.” Shaw interrupts the shopkeeper.

The shopkeeper furrows his brows. “Why are you throwing a tantrum?”

“I’m not. I have proper business to attend to tomorrow. The school organised a visit to the museum.” Shaw lifts his eyes, and his thin lips curve upwards. “The things I see there will be much more valuable than those trivial things you fiddle with.”

“You little rascal!”

Shaw laughs, wedging the chicken leg between his chopsticks and sending it into his mentor’s bowl. “I’m full, so I’m heading to the back to do my homework. Chicken legs are really nutritious, so you should have it.”

“Tsk tsk, and you still said you weren’t throwing a tantrum. You aren’t going home again?”

“I don’t want to go back today. I’ll definitely go back tomorrow.” Shaw has already walked to the entrance. He suddenly thinks of something, and turns his head to ask a question. “Mentor, your shop will always be open, right?”

These words came out of nowhere, and the shopkeeper isn’t able to comprehend them. “What?”

“Nothing much. I’m just worried that I won’t have a place to have dinner if an old man like you were to throw in the towel someday.”

The shopkeeper fumes with a glare. “What do you mean by that? You only care about the food? Also, my shop can continue running for a decade or two. I’m still waiting for you to bring back a disciple or a wife to serve me tea!”

Shaw lets out an “oh”, and his eyes crinkle. “In that case, you’ll have to wait for another twenty or thirty years.”

The eyesight of the shopkeeper is no longer as good as before, but he can clearly see that the smile of this child didn’t reach his eyes. After Shaw leaves, he suddenly recalls the fortune that he drew for Shaw half a year ago: “What awaits this catastrophe is a new beginning...”

This child is will meet his predestined fate this year, so what’s left is to see how he endures through it. The shopkeeper shakes his head, sighing once again.

[Note] The actual fortune is “河图数九，洛书数七，脐于九陵，七日来复” but I don’t have the energy to explain it so what I’ve translated above is the overall meaning :>

-

[ Chapter Three ]

When Shaw awakens on the next day, the shopkeeper has already left to inspect the goods. The shop is empty, and he’s the only one left.

Westmoon Street is lined with old houses, and there’s no soundproofing. Lying on the bed, Shaw can hear the chirping of birds outside the window, the yelling of people on the street, and the babble of the Chinese opera from the old bookstore next door: “I’m just like a caged bird with wings that can’t be outstretched. I’m just like a shallow water dragon trapped on a beach...”

Shaw rubs his face, then sits up on the bed.

The school had set the assembling time to be 9am. Heading out now will give him more than enough time. Shaw quickly washes his face and rinses his mouth. Just as he walks towards the front counter with some rice grains from the kitchen for the parrot to eat, he suddenly discovers that there’s something on the counter.

Walking over, Shaw sees that there’s a cake box as well as a t-shirt which has been washed clean.

There’s a slip of paper on the shirt. The strokes are clean and thin. At a glance, he knows that this is the Old Man’s handwriting: You need energy and drive to participate in the school activity. Don’t wear yesterday’s dirty clothes. Change into this.

The shirt look slightly familiar. He probably changed out of it one day and forgot about it, leaving it in the antique shop. Shaw pays it no mind, turning his head to that small cake once again. The various calligraphy and writings in the antique store are considered relatively charming. Yet, why does he always buy such unsophisticated cakes?

When his classmates celebrate their birthdays, what they eat are high quality custom-made cakes - red velvet, matcha crepe, chocolate molten lava... such a traditional longevity cake is probably found only in a place like Westmoon Street. It’s clear from the light red and light green colours that the embellishments on the cake were made by hand. Eating it would definitely dye his tongue. If he were to speak later, wouldn’t he get laughed at by his classmates?

Shaw bunches up his brows, but the fork in his hand doesn’t stop. The cream is plant-based and tastes bad. He eats a small egg shell at the base of the cake and it tastes bad. The “Happy Birthday” was written using peach jam, and it tastes really bad.

The silly parrot at the side tilts its head, watching as the boy eats mouthfuls while shunning it with every bite, finishing the cake entirely.

Shaw wipes his mouth, then rinses it with the barley tea on the table. Picking up that t-shirt, he returns into the house and changes his clothes. 

-

[ Chapter Four ]

“...this ‘Painting of the Elevated and Pre-eminent’ depicts four famous scholars enjoying themselves. Students, do you know who the Seven Sages of the bamboo forest are?”

[Trivia] If you’re interested in seeing the actual painting, search for “高逸图” (“gao yi tu”)

“It’s such a waste that you didn’t watch yesterday’s episode. That scene where the main lead destroyed the opponent like a boss is unparalleled!”

“Aside from the both of us, did anyone else have fun at Anime City?”

“Are you done with the math homework? Lend it to me - I’ll find a place to copy it.”

...

The question posed by the museum guide is drowned out amidst the laughing and frolicking of the kids. He forces a smile while shaking his head. All of a sudden, he notices that a boy with bluish purple hair isn’t the same as the other kids. He’s staring at an ancient painting in the showcase, lost in thought.

As though seeing a saviour, the guide quickly points at him. “Student, why don’t you give me an answer? It’s fine even if you get it wrong. Uncle will explain to you!”

“...” Shaw turns his head, opening his mouth to say some words, but his voice doesn’t reach the guide’s ears.

“Student, what did you say?” The guide raises his volume.

“I said that the four people in ‘Painting of the Elevated and Pre-eminent’ are Shan Tao, Wang Jie, Liu Ling and Ruan Ji.” Shaw’s face is pretty much expressionless, and there aren't many fluctuations in his tone. “The one sitting down with his hands on his knees at the far right is Shan Tao. The one holding the ruyi sceptre is Wang Tao. The one next to him and drinking wine is Liu Ling. A boy is serving him. The one at the far left needs no mention - he’s the first of the Sages, Ruan Ji. So this painting is missing Ji Tang, Xiang Xiu and Ruan Xian.”

“...”

The surroundings gradually quieten down, and only Shaw’s voice echoes in front of the showcase.

"The scholars in this painting evoke a refined and tasteful sentiment, and the lines are beautiful. This is an extremely precious treasure in the realm of silk scrolls. This is why the ‘Painting of the Elevated and Pre-eminent’ has always been kept in the royal palace. It’s a pity that in order for our predecessors to avoid taboos, only Si Ma Zhong’s inscription is left on it.”

The youth lifts his chin, shooting a playful smile at the guide. “Okay Uncle, you can explain the next museum piece now.”

“Shaw, you’re incredible!” His classmates flock over to him, bumping him on the shoulders. “You were staring at that painting for such a long time. Did you memorise the words on the museum label?”

“Tch. These’s no need to memorise the museum labels for such things. You’ll know it from a glance.” Shaw laughs. “Also, I wasn’t looking at this painting...” When he says this, he pauses for a moment, swallowing his words.

If he wasn’t looking at this painting, which one was he looking at? The students follow Shaw’s gaze, and realise that there’s a floral painting hanging next to the “Painting of the Elevated and Pre-eminent”.

“Painting of a Courtyard and Dayliles”, Northern Song Dynasty, Xuan He Imperial Art Academy, anonymous... The students read the explanatory note on the museum label.

[Trivia] If you’re interested in seeing the actual painting, search for “霜庭萱草图” (“shuang ting xuan cao tu”)

The painting seems to depict a corner of a courtyard. A few daylilies display the patterns on their leaves. One big and one small dragonfly are perched on the flower. Aside from that, there isn’t anything else interesting about it. This painting doesn’t seem to have a name or seal, neither does it have a detailed explanation. Even the guide skipped past it. Since it isn’t a rare and precious ancient painting, what exactly was Shaw looking at?

His classmates are a little puzzled.

-

[ Chapter Five ]

All the classes assemble in lines at the entrance of the museum. The teacher very patiently reminds the students not to forget to do their homework over the weekend, and to remember to write down their reflections about the museum. The students drawl out “got it”, but their hearts have long since flown a million miles away, ready to keep toys and snacks company.

“Shaw!” After dispersing, Shaw’s classmates wave at him.

Shaw walks over. “What’s up?”

“All of us know that you aren’t in a good mood because you lost to a senior in skateboarding yesterday. Isn’t it your birthday? Bro Lu bought the newest game, so let’s head over to play at his place.” His classmate smiles while putting an arm around his shoulder.

“Who told you that I lost yesterday?” Shaw speaks coldly.

“Who else but Fatty? He was so proud yesterday.” The classmate gives Shaw a pat. “Relax, we’re on your side. Don’t think about these unhappy things. Next time, we’ll have lots of opportunities to get revenge...”

“If I wanted revenge, I wouldn’t wait till next time.” Shaw purses his lips. “I’m heading to the skatepark now. You guys coming?”

-

Since it’s the weekend, quite a number of skateboard hobbyists are already practising by the time Shaw reaches the skatepark. Very quickly, he locates Bro Zhou from yesterday.

Shaw gets straight to the point. “I lost yesterday. Today, I want to have a race with you. Do you accept?”

A hint of shock is in Bro Zhou’s eyes. He has probably never met a kid who is this unwilling to lose. “You fell so badly yesterday but still want to compete with me? You should practise more!”

“There’s no need to practise more when competing with you,” Shaw says.

With this, Bro Zhou’s temper starts to flare. He tilts his chin. “Fine, come on. Just don’t cry if you fall and break your arm today.”

A short while later, the news of how a “junior high school newbie dared to challenge Bro Zhou from the Qing Xun Team” spreads throughout the skatepark. Everyone gathers at both sides of the race course, curiously sizing up the main lead for today.

“S-Shaw...” His classmate pulls on Shaw’s arm. Looking at the deep bowl in front, he gulps. “Are you sure you’re competing with him in this? It won’t be good news if you fall!”

“If I want to play, of course I’ll only play the fun stuff. Just watch.”

Shaw walks to the starting line and takes a deep breath. When moving his limbs, his hand subconsciously touches the hem of the t-shirt - there’s a small Chinese trumpet vine. The green leaves and red petals cover the hole which was originally on the shirt. It’s just that the stitches are crooked, and it’s incredibly crude. At a glance, it’s clear that it wasn’t sewn by someone familiar with needlework. 

[Fun fact] Chinese trumpet vine is 凌霄花 (“ling xiao hua”)

Shaw’s name in CN is 凌肖 (“ling xiao”)

Mentor is the best <3

He bites his lower lip.

The referee raises both hands. “The old rules apply. After getting past the Cola can obstacles, cross the bowl. The first person who reaches the goal will win. Ready... go!”

In the midst of a clamour, a bluish purple light rushes forward, taking the lead.

-

[ Chapter Six ]

The friction of wheels against the ground results in ear-piercing screeches. The skateboard brings Shaw forward at a high speed, and the cold strong wind accompanies the summer heat waves, brushing past his cheeks. The upright Cola cans aren’t enough to faze him. With the continuous twisting of his waist and a skateboard which moves naturally like flowing water, he and his opponent seem to bypass the obstacles comprising of twelve Cola cans at the same time-

There are three consecutive rows of Cola can structures in front of him. He has to use all sorts of techniques to jump over them. That way, he can rush down the bowl, and enter the final stage.

The arm he injured from the fall yesterday is still aching faintly. His feet seem to be protesting as well. He successfully jumps over the first row, the second row... Shaw holds his breath. He steps on the tail of the skateboard with his left foot. Gravity takes over quickly, and his right foot causes the skateboard to rise. The skateboard beneath his feet is akin to a flying fish jumping out of the water surface, creating a rotating arc above the Cola cans!

“It’s a dolphin flip!” Members of the audience exclaim.

Clack! Shaw’s shoulders wobble slightly when his feet return to the skateboard. When he finally stands steadily, he continues rushing forward. The final bowl is right in front of him. 

The moment the skateboard dives downwards, Shaw feels a brief moment of weightlessness. This feeling is reminiscent of being thrown out of the entire world, making one want to continue falling like this until they plummet into the bottom of the swamp. The deep bowl is like the trough he’s currently going through. If he’s unable to climb out of the trough, he will drown in hatred, anger, powerlessness, disappointment... and lose to that weak heart of his.

But he’s Shaw, and he won’t lose just like that.

With a rapid dash, he soars upwards without trouble - underneath the brilliant blazing sun, the youth leaps out of the bowl!

After flying out of the bowl, the inertia causes Shaw to stumble a few steps. He falls onto the ground, lying on his back while pressing the finish line.

At the same time, he hears a dull thud from the bowl - his opponent had fallen back into it.

“Shaw won!” “Shaw reached the goal first!” “That rascal actually won against Bro Zhou?” “This competition was so awesome!” ...all sorts of voices emerge in the surroundings in a disorderly fashion, and a set of footsteps walk towards him.

“Your name’s Shaw?” A masculine voice asks from above his head.

Shaw doesn't speak.

“I’m Coach Wang from Loveland City’s Qing Xun Skateboarding Team,” that voice continues. “I see that you have lots of talent, and will make a good young successor. Are you interested in joining the Qing Xun Team?”

While saying this, a registration form is handed to him.

The late afternoon sun illuminates the sheet of paper, reflecting a glaring light akin to snow. Shaw takes one look at the registration form, then shifts his lips slightly. “I don’t want to.”

“Why not?”

“My shirt’s really expensive, so it isn’t worth tearing them.”

The coach is rendered speechless.

Just as he’s about to say a few more words to persuade the kid, he suddenly spots the small flower at the corner of Shaw’s shirt from his periphery - this is clearly not an expensive t-shirt. These days, few shirts are mended using embroidery. And the fact that he’s willing to wear it despite the clumsy embroidery...

This kid has family members whom he cares very much about. The coach seems to understand this. His lips open and shut, and he swallows back the lines he prepared. In the end, he simply says, “...that dolphin flip you did earlier wasn’t bad.”

“Of course.”

The coach laughs as he leaves. Amidst the cheers from the surroundings, Shaw lies on the ground. Covering his eyes with his hand, he laughs.

“I won. Happy birthday to me.”

🛹 Shaw’s Date Prologue: here

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc shaw