#honourable mentions All Things Must Pass

[narcissisticmf]

arrangement | loki x fem!reader

description: y/n is betrothed to thor, an arrangement made my odin so that asgard may have a queen to rule beside his first born. there is just one problem. y/n does not love thor, not the way she loves loki.

trigger warnings: forced marriage, mentions of anxiety, angst, fluff, etc. read at your own risk.

word count: 1.2k

The heels of your glass shoes clicked along the marble flooring of the palace. Your breathing hastened as you led yourself down the candle-lit corridor. Passing by several guards, as well as servants, you eventually came to the library that was at the end of the hall.

"Loki," You breathed out seeing as he was seated upon a chair, beside a crackling fire with a book set in his lap. His lanky fingers holding it effortlessly.

"Lady Y/N," He greeted without raising his eyes from the pages.

The library was grand as you took a quick scan to see if anyone else was present, to your luck it remained vacant apart from you and Loki. You swiftly grabbed the grand doors and latched them shut, giving the both of you privacy.

"I must have a word with you," You let your feet cross the room, to stand before him as he stared blankly at your feet for a few moments. He took a minute before closing his book and placing it onto the low table before him. He stood up and towered before you, standing a mere three feet from you.

Loki pressed his lips together and gestured his hands to allow you to take the floor.

"I am to marry Thor tomorrow evening," You whispered into the air as though it were some huge announcement, but in truth this was something the entirety of Asgard knew for months.

"Are you? I didn't realize," Loki replied, sarcastically.

"I love you," You stated in a single breath.

"No, you don't," Loki shook his head, tears burning his eyes but he dared not to let them slip. He closed his eyes for a moment to lowered his head before returning to meet your gaze.

"How can you say such a thing?" Your voice was breathy.

"Because, Y/N, you are to marry my brother. We wouldn't stand a chance at any form of a shared life together so we must end this now. We must because we have to," Loki's voice echoed beautifully about the library. The crackling fire was comforting in the background as the candles continued to flicker in the dim room. Crickets sung just outside the palace, creating the perfect ambience for such a solemn moment.

"I do not love Thor!" Your voice broke.

"But you do love Asgard," Loki was soft spoken, probably the most soft spoken person in all the nine realms. "And you will do anything for its people," he added after a pause.

You sucked in a breath before releasing it. There was a stillness for a little while.

"If I wed your brother it will bind me and you together for eternity," You lowered your voice as tears glazed across your eyes. "And I will spend everyday of my marriage, wanting you.. dreaming of you," You shakily breathed in, "Dreading the day when my last thread of honour finally snaps. Is that the future that you want for us? For your brother?"

Loki stared at you with astonishment as he was at a loss for words, unknowing of what to say in response.

Beyond the doors to the library were footsteps, you thought you had heard Thor's voice. You released a gentle breath and stepped closer to Loki as he stared down at you with a gentle scrunch in his brows.

"I must go," You whispered lowly.

His lips parted as you thought he was going to say something else, but you were already exiting the library, leaving him stood there alone, stupefied.

.

"Father?" Loki entered the throne room as Odin sat overlooking the empty space.

"Loki," Odin exhaled.

"Might I have a word?" Loki asked.

He motioned his guards away, "Leave us."

Once the room was completely empty of ears, Odin stepped down from his chair, using the support from his scepter as he made an attempt to reach his son. Loki stood as the Allfather approached him.

"Why have you chosen Lady Y/N for Thor?" Loki breathed out, as though it took more energy than anything else in the world to say.

"Lady Y/N will rule beside Thor quite nicely. They will create balance and peace across the nine realms, I am certain of it," Odin explained.

"What about Lady Sif? Her and Thor share more similarities than he and Y/N," Loki replied.

"Lady Sif is a warrior, she must fight for Asgard on the ground while Lady Y/N will lead the battles," Odin stated.

"Father," Loki breathed. "Please reconsider your decision," he begged; the God of mischief was not one to beg. "I love her, I truly love her and if you do this, if you decide to do this, I will lose her in every way that I do not want to lose her. Thor does not love her and she will spend her marriage, her entire life in a loveless match. It is not what she wishes, Father."

"The wedding is tomorrow evening, my son," Odin explained. "The arrangements have been made, we cannot turn back now."

"You are the Allfather, you can do as you wish, whatever the circumstances," Loki was beginning to tremble, in great fear that he would be unable to change Odin's mind.

Odin was silent for what felt like forever. He could see that his son was truly distraught by the situation and felt pity for him.

"Very well, I will see to putting an end to the wedding," He said, hastily.

Loki's lips parted as he nodded his head, bewildered that his father actually listened to him. "Thank you, Father," He lowered his head, bowing politely before leaving the throne room with a smile to his face.

.

Scurrying through the corridors of the palace in a pair of boots, having come back from a horse ride, you entered the library to see Loki reading, yet again in the broad of daylight.

"How did you convince him?" You questioned, referring to the wedding having been canceled.

"He is my father.. well adoptive father anyway, but over the years I have been able to pick up a few things," Loki lifted his eyes from his book and gave you a thin smile.

"Thank you," You whispered.

Loki said nothing in response and instead, pushed himself up off the chair he sat in, placing his book on the low table and walked towards you. You followed him with your loving gaze as he towered before you. He smiled and cupped your face with his large hands, allowing you to lean your head back, pressing his lips against yours in the sweetest of motions.

You placed your hands at his sides, molding your lips against his warmly, admiring the taste of him. He smiled into your mouth as you had done the same. Loki pulled back and grinned down at you, lovingly.

"I love you too," He whispered, his lips dragging across your cheek, close to your ear.

"I know you do," You whispered back with a happy smile.

.

a/n: this has been something i've wanted to write for a while! i feel like i could do more if it was a full on book, but i thought this was kinda cute and a little angsty! lmk if you guys liked this! i had fun writing it!! tysm for your support, you guys are amazing. be safe, my lovelies. <3 — angelina.

#smut #imagine #reader #x reader #edit #marvel #mcu #marvel imagine #mcu x reader #marvel x reader #thor #thor odison x reader #thor odison imagine #thor odinson #asgard #loki #loki laufesyon x reader #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki x you #arranged marriage #mcu fic #mcu fandom #marvel fic #thor 1 #thor 1 loki #angst #odin #frigga

[orangflowalober]

I need a hero (isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed?)!

Pairing: Park Sunghoon x Reader

Genre: superhero, crack, action, damsel in distress!sunghoon, alien!superhero!reader

Summary: in the middle of their New York concert, ENHYPEN's Sunghoon gets snatched right off the stage and put into a hostage situation. the situation is dire and he needs a hero to save him. Starburst to the rescue!

Word count: 683

Warnings: kidnapping, mentions of injuries, high-stress situations, anxiety, implications of rope burning

A/n: can i even be blamed for thinking of damsel in distress!sunghoon? like... hes so bbg... this fic was written in honour of my new followers as thanks <3 also writing that chivalric romance thing deffo brought back some not-so-nice memories and yes the title was inspired by "I need a hero" by Bonnie Tyler; btw, the italicized words are in Korean!

~

Sunghoon was having the time of his life at the concert. He really was.

But then he got kidnapped and that wasn't really fun. It was even less fun when they tied his arms and legs so tightly he could feel his blood circulation slowly stopping.

It didn't help that apparently this was the work of one of his saesangs who hired a bunch of super powered crooks to kidnap him and take him to...

He sighed.

The boys must be worried sick... he stressed, while attempting to understand what this psychopathic woman was trying to say. He was having a hard time understanding her because she was speaking in an unsettling mix of English and broken Korean. He was sure even Jake or Jay would have a hard time understanding her.

His hands hurt. They had pulled them back behind the backrest and his muscles screamed from being in the same position for so long.

One by one, the crooks left the room leaving him alone with the saesang and he didn't have to have crazy knowledge of English to understand what she said before she left too.

"I will be back soon my love..." she whispered, her long fingers curling around his neck, before she finally left him alone.

He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding when she finally left.

Although, saying that the place he was in was a room was... a bit of a stretch. They were, after all, in the sewers of New York.

Sunghoon took a deep breath in order to calm down. That, unfortunately, didn't help much because he was in the sewers of one of the biggest cities in the world and the smell was far from pleasant.

Out of nowhere, a metallic hand clamped over his mouth making him stiffen up with panic.

He almost called out for his captors. Almost.

"Shh..." a soft voice shushed him and he slowly forced his body to uncoil, "I'm here to get you out of here" it whispered as the hand was retracting from its place against his mouth and Sunghoon took in a stuttering breath.

He could hear his captors arguing from the other side of the wall.

Slowly, he turned to face what would hopefully be his saviour and the most stupid thing he could have thought of left his mouth.

"You speak Korean?"

The woman releasing him had a faint smile on her face at his frankly idiotic question.

"I don't," she told him and he felt her hand resting between his own: right against the rope, "the technology in my armour allows people to hear their language of choice."

While the smell smoke invaded his senses, Sunghoon assessed the woman.

She was certainly one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. However, while he knew people told him he was beautiful in a princely way, this woman was beautiful in an otherworldly way. She also wore a silver suit of armour like the knights in those old western tales of chivalry.

All of a sudden, his hands fell free from their binds and Sunghoon felt like a weight fell right of his chest.

"Wow..." he awed.

The woman winked at him as she spoke;

"Stay here until I deal with those kidnappers of yours. Don't worry, Starburst's got this~!"

~

Sunghoon must have passed out when she left, because the next thing he knew, he was standing in front of a shit ton of photographers, looking like shit and being unable to understand what they were saying on top of being unable to find a way out of the situation.

"Sorry boys," the voice from earlier, Starburst, Sunghoon reminded himself, "I have to ship this bad boy off to his hotel, mind giving us some space?"

What ever she had said, it made the reporters lose their mind, but then someone picked him bridal style and he was off in the air.

Well. If it had to do with saving like this, Sunghoon thought he could do with being rescued by his knight in shining armour some more.

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

My dearest girls: @ch3rryc0smos & @janaicetea

if anyone wants to be a part of the taglist send an ask <3

#park sunghoon #sunghoon #enhypen #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen x reader #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x you #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x you #sunghoon imagines #❄️.works. #❄️.fics.

[harrowharks-iliac-crest]

Awake Remembrance of These Valiant Dead Kia Hua Ko Te Pai Back to Reality Oops There Goes Gravity

Sorry, you know I had to do it.

Characters

<< Previous: Gideon Nav | Masterpost

-

Wake deserves an honourable mention, at least, because through her we get a bit of an insight into how Revenants work, as well as how the Blood of Eden work. I wonder, was it just her who talked to the Lyctors? Did she have to hide their involvement from her fellow Edenites? To pull off Deus Apate, Mercymorn said it took them five hundred years of planning. How old was Wake? Surely an operation of this magnitude couldn't just be a few Lyctors and Wake - the Blood of Eden have existed since shortly after the Resurrection, presumably some information must have been passed down families of sorts.

Wake, as we met her, was a revenant. A spirit of the dead. She attached herself to the sword, to Harrow, and Cytherea's body. Harrow could interact with her in the River bubble. Wake's revenant can attach herself to things that were meaningful in her life. Presumably, she could go back to the Blood of Eden as a revenant, and plot with them. In the Glossary, it says:

On Wake's death, Blood of Eden withdrew somewhat out of the eye of the Houses to regroup, but were enlivened by the reappearance of their legendary commander in the form of a revenant.

So revenants can move, if they are strong enough, between bodies and objects. Could you talk to the revenant without a necromancer, though? Is this what Eden are keeping Judith for - is that how she knew that the Mithraeum had been infiltrated? (Oh wait, she "met" Mercymorn, she was barely present but still able to recognise a Lyctor.)

Does she need a dead body of someone she kn...

... Gideon. Could she be using Gideon's body? Who was it who got them to take Gideon? Camilla - it says so in As Yet Unsent. Why did Camilla suggest it?

There are other explanations of course. Let's not dwell on it too much.

Instead, let's talk for a second about who she was. She was a commander, who brought some order into their chaos. She was a fierce fighter, and a passionate lover, if she managed to seduce both Gideon and Pyrrha. She was someone who would have been perfectly happy killing a baby, even one she grew in her own womb. She saw pregnancy as nothing but an inconvenience. She was someone who was willing to die for this plan, and still managed to keep the baby alive. It's unclear whether she ever had any kinds of feelings towards baby Gideon, aside from calling her Bomb, and Payload. The baby was only ever a means to an end, and should have died upon arrival at the Ninth. It's not clear whether these feelings, or lack thereof, are just a front.

She wanted Harrow to die, so that she could inhabit Harrow's corpse. Kids not dying doesn't seem high in her priorities.

She managed to plot involving basically every Lyctor. It's said in As Yet Unsent that Eden has had House spies for millennia; were all Lyctors involved with them at some point? All the ones we've met were - Mercy, Augustine, Gideon, Cytherea. Were their cavaliers involved in that?

Actually, let's talk about Cytherea, because I wanna say things.

>> Next: Cytherea

#tlt theories #no nona the ninth spoilers please #tlt liveblog #the locked tomb liveblog #tlt spoilers #the locked tomb #tlt #gideon the ninth #harrow the ninth #commander wake

[wannaeatramyeon]

Hey, can I request (angst) story of Eli & his s/o? Like they're arguing about trivial things, but they both are very sensitive & tired then suddenly Eli bring out 'the late Heather topic' and mention that Heather is better than his current s/o, etc. The ending is up to you! Sorry for my bad english and thank you in advance 💙

Hey Anon, thanks for the ask! Please don't apologise about your english!! And anyway, it's really good!

Eli Jang x Reader: The morning light

"Just say what you've been wanting to say!"

"Oh yeah? And what is that?"

"You wish it was Heather here instead, don't you?"

"Yes."

It is barely a whisper, but the words are loud enough to deafen.

"Fuck you, I'm no one's second choice."

You storm out.

Eli tosses and turns in bed, angry and resolute that it is better off for everyone if you weren't around.

Then the harsh light of day arrives and brings along clarity and remorse. The empty space beside him is vast.

Did he really say all that to you?

Over the last couple months, Eli had felt the impending date like a punishing countdown. The tension was building, and you must have felt it too.

Yenna had been especially fussy last night, as if she too realised the approaching anniversary of Heather's passing.

Eli's nitpicking snowballed into snipes and jabs into sharp words and an explosive argument about... honestly, nothing at all. At least nothing significant.

Comparing you to a ghost, there are no winners.

.

.

Eli sees you seated next to Heather's tree on the anniversary.

The moment feels heavy and private, like he's intruding. But he finds himself once again spellbound in your presence.

Your eyes are closed, peaceful. As if you are having a private conversation, just between the two of you.

If fate wasn't so cruel and twisted, you would have no doubt been friends.

Perhaps you're telling her about Yenna, or updating her about Hostel. Or maybe you are recounting what happened that night. Clear as day, Eli could picture the fury and rage in Heather's eyes if she heard how he had treated you.

The thought makes him uncomfortable. The way he left things makes him uncomfortable. But some things can't be rushed.

Eli clears his throat. Your eyes remain shut though there's a stiffness in the way you hold yourself that wasn't there before.

Nevertheless, he starts to talk. He talks to the air and the trees. To the blades of grass and the morning dew. To the song birds and the clear blue sky. To Heather, who he can never see again. To You, in the present and hopeful future.

He talks about the trauma and the grief, the scars and the healing, the guilt and the love.

(Once he starts, he can't stop. He's held onto this for too long. The words tumble out of him like a sickness.)

That you gave him the push he needed.

That the first thing he did the morning after was arrange a meeting with a therapist. That during the first session he was too angry to even say anything, and the next he couldn't speak through the tears.

That he doesn't want you to fix him, but there is always space for you in his life.

That even asking you to join him on this journey is too much, yet he would be honoured if you would try to work this through with him.

That he's sorry. About this, about that night, about the circumstances.

You finally open your eyes.

For the first time, you could truly see each other.

#lookism #lookism headcanons #lookism x reader #lookism hc #lookism fic #lookism fanfic #eli jang #eli jang x reader #jang hyun #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #wannaeatramyeon

[nastybuckybarnes]

All The King’s Men  -  Fourteen

Pairing: Alpha!King!Bucky X Omega!Reader

Summary: Your father always said that if it weren’t for your presentation, he’d think you were an Alpha. There’s a reason for that. Growing up in a world where Omegas are treated like garbage, you’ve fought for the respect that you have. Until you’re sold off to an old King desperate for a bride. But you will not lay down and present for your new husband. No, you will fight back.

Warnings: Angst, Dark Themes, Violence and Injury, ABO Dynamics (Scenting, Marking, Knotting, etc.) Fluff, 

Word Count: 3.3K

A/n: I really like this chapter!! We’ve got one more after this and then she’s done!! I’m gonna start my next little things soon, though, so don’t worry! I love you all and I hope you’re having an amazing day/night!

!!DO NOT COPY/TRANSLATE/REPOST MY WORK!!

SERIES MASTERLIST

~*~

“We have discovered my wife’s body, slain, in the woods,” he begins, his eyes cast down on the ground so that his councilmen don’t realize how truly feral he is.

They all bristle slightly at the mention of the Queen’s passing, but none of them even breathe a word for fear of angering the King.

“We know not who has caused this, nor why, but I have men scouring the woods for any trace of the traitors.” It takes a ridiculous amount of self-control to keep his eyes focused on the floor and not let them rise to look at his men.

“I shall travel with my men to Lothiella to honour the Queen, and to allow her parents to say their final goodbyes before we lay her to rest.”

He pauses, allowing his words to take root in their minds while also calming himself down.

You're not dead. You’re very much alive and, soon enough, you’ll be in his arms once more.

“I leave at dusk, and my kingdom will rest in your capable hands while I am away. I trust you to make wise decisions in my absence.”

In truth, he isn’t leaving the Kingdom in their hands. The Kingdom rests on the shoulders of Steve, who is remaining at the Palace to prevent an attack, along with a third of his army, and half the army of Lothiella.

Walking into battle with half the number he trained with isn’t something James is used to, but if that is what it takes to free you, he’s willing to do it.

The remainder of the day is spent preparing his men and himself for the battle that is to come.

A third of his army is spread throughout the village and the Palace, prepared to defend it to their last dying breath, while the rest are mounting their horses.

“You will lead us,” James says to Elden, nodding his respect toward the younger man.

Your brother bows his head in his own show of respect, then leads his mare down the gravel path toward the forest to the west.

They ride in silence for a long while, but as they approach, Elden speaks.

“I can access her through a small window on the north side of the fortress. If you hold the focus of the fight, I will be able to slip in and back out unnoticed.”

James nods his agreement, slowing his horse as a break in the forest comes into sight.

“You find her and you bring her to safety. If I am to fall in battle, we must ensure she survives. For the fate of the entire Kingdom.”

Elden nods sternly, “I will not fail.”

The two royals dismount their horses and walk to the edge of the woods, peering out beyond the trees and down the hill where the fortress lies.

There, as spoken, are the men. Not more than five hundred in number, which is double the amount currently with James.

“They prepare to march,” the King whispers, watching intently as men bustle about, trying to prepare themselves for the coming war.

“They won’t move until they have darkness again. Do you plan to attack in broad daylight?” Elden inquires.

“As soon as the men have rested and regained their strength, I will lead half of them down the hill. The fight will focus on us, so the rest will go around either side and attack when the time is right. We will have them surrounded, and you will be able to go in and out with ease.”

A new set of feet approach the men and they both look to the sound, watching as Natalia peers beyond the trees.

“Is that... Sharon?” She questions softly, her eyes on the blonde beta who is almost like a sister.

“Yes,” James nearly growls.

With a deep breath, he turns away from the fortress to address his men.

“I need archers in the trees, and people on watch. We rest, we eat, and then we fight.”

~*~

“Sir, I have news from Veronia!” A young man exclaims, riding in swiftly on horseback.

The man looks up at the rider, grateful to finally have a distraction from Lady Sharon and all her complaints.

“Yes, what is it?”

He dismounts his horse and approaches the pair.

“The King rides with his guard to Lothiella, the dead Queen in tow.”

Confusion colours all their faces as they exchange glances.

“The Queen remains here, imprisoned, as she should,” Sharon says, confused.

“Aye, I know. So who, then, is he bringing to Lothiella?” The rider asks.

“No one,” The man murmurs, his eyes flickering across the forest and then across his men.

“Someone within these walls is a terrible traitor,” his eyes slowly rise to the rider before him and he unsheathes his sword, following the young man as he takes slow steps back.

“I-I wouldn’t, sir! You know that!”

The older man grabs his collar and yanks him closer.

“Then you will have no issue finding who the traitor is and delivering me their head, will you?”

“N-no m’lord.”

He releases the boy and pushes him back a step, “good. That’s what I thought.”

He turns and storms off, Lady Sharon hot on his heels.

“Something is amiss,” he whispers, mostly to himself, but the broad hears.

“What? What could possibly be amiss? Even if the King is marching this way, we have more men than he could possibly have. We have more resources, and, above all else, we have you.” Her hands curve over his shoulders, caressing him gently, sensually, but he wants none of it.

What he wants is his revenge, served on a silver platter.

“Ready yourself for battle. We cannot wait until the full moon. We must march sooner.”

If it’s true, and the King has made for Lothiella, then that leaves his Kingdom unprotected. And what better time to take it than now? Perhaps he’ll even have an opportunity to enjoy the Queen before King James returns.

“Why march? Why not allow him to bring the fight to us? We have the stronghold, we know the land. He does not.”

“He is a King who knows every inch of his Kingdom. And, if he is to march, he will have the upper hand on the hill. We will be no match for it, regardless of our numbers. Now go. Leave me.”

With a scowl on her face, she does as commanded, leaving to prepare herself for battle.

He stands alone for a long while, a thousand thoughts playing out in his mind and oh, how he wishes she were here.

But if she were, none of this would be happening.

And that is why the King must die.

Why things must change.

Why an empire must fall.

~*~

“You have all followed me here today because you trust me... you believe in me... you believe me to be the King I am. A man who will lead you to victory and to greatness,” James begins, looking out across the sea of men before him.

“This is not a training exercise, nor is it a game. This is a war. One that will be won, not by words, nor by brute strength. It will be won by men! Fighting men who believe in the power and will of the Gods! Men who know better than to turn on their King! It will be won by you lot here! Men with wives, with children! Men who deserve this victory!”

The air is energized quickly as the men get more mentally prepared, inspired by the King’s words.

“I would give my life, protecting my Kingdom. And each of you has shown that you would do the same. And you will be heavily rewarded when we return home! Mount the heads of your enemies on your walls! Feast on the blood spilled from their bodies! Show them no mercy!” He shouts, unsheathing his sword and raising it up to the heavens.

“No mercy!” Swords all raise toward the sky, and James feels hope bloom in his chest as he turns to Elden.

“Start your way down now, but do not enter until you hear the battle start.”

The Prince nods his understanding, his mind focused solely on saving you, no matter the cost.

He could lose his own life and he would not care. As long as you’re safe, that’s all that matters to him.

With a last bow of respect, he slips away from the army and makes his way to the fortress, thanking his lucky stars when he gets to the side of the building without being spotted.

He presses himself against the cold stone exterior, his breath shallow as he waits for the sound of battle.

“Look there! An army!”

He hears the shout from a distance, and then comes the sound of men clamouring to prepare for battle.

“All men out front! Shields up!”

He recognizes that voice as one of the men from the King’s council, and knows then and there that now is his chance.

It’s now or never.

He drops to the ground and pries the bars of the window apart, then slides into the dungeon with grace, dropping to the floor with a soft thud.

“(Y/n)?!” He looks to the cell he remembers you being in, his heart dropping into his stomach when he sees you chained to the ceiling, your face lifeless and cold.

He rushes to you, grabbing a knife from his belt and slicing through the cloth around your wrists.

You tumble into him and he carefully lowers you to the ground, two fingers finding your neck, searching for a pulse.

“(Y/n), please. Please wake up,” he begs, tears threatening to stab at his eyes.

Your brows draw together right as he feels the steady thumping beneath his fingers.

Slowly, your eyes open, foggy at first, but after a few blinks everything clears up.

“Elden?” You ask in a whisper, confused at his presence.

“Yes. I’m here. I’m getting you out of here and returning you to Veronia.”

You push yourself to your knees then attack him in a tight hug, tears quickly flooding your eyes.

“You came back!” You cry, not even bothering to try and hide your true feelings.

He hugs you back tightly, nodding.

“Of course I did. Now come, we must leave, quickly.”

You nod and allow him to help you to your feet, stumbling slightly with every step you take.

Perhaps you should’ve eaten more of the gruel they offered. At least then you’d be able to defend yourself. But instead, here you are, relying on the strength of your brother to get you out of the fortress.

One of his arms stays secured tightly around your waist while the other holds his sword, prepared to slay anyone who gets in his path.

He leads you up a flight of stairs and through a dark corridor, then shoulders open a door into a great hall, only to have a sword pressed to his throat the moment he enters.

“I knew someone would try to free the whore. I half expected it to be the King and, I must say, I’m a little disappointed I won’t be able to slay him where he stands,” she muses, grinning wickedly at the two of you.

Elden slowly releases your waist then swipes his sword upward, knocking hers away from his throat.

He takes a defensive stance in front of you, his attention only half on the battle at hand as he tries with all his might to protect you.

Sharon sidesteps a blow and manages to knock your brother onto his back, swiftly kicking his sword away and rendering him helpless.

“Please, don't!” You try, stumbling forward a step.

“It’s a pity, really. You seem like a decent fellow. And now you must die for the stupidity of your sister.” She raises her sword and goes to strike, and you close your eyes tightly, refusing to witness the murder of your brother. Instead of hearing metal slicing through flesh, you hear the clash of a sword against another sword.

Natalia stands before Sharon, her sword blocking the Beta’s.

Elden scrambles back, grabbing his sword off the ground and rushing to your side again as the redhead and the blonde face off.

“You would fight me, your sister, for a man who cares more about some whore than he does his own people?” Sharon demands, glaring daggers into Natalia’s eyes.

She grinds her teeth together and shakes her head, “no. I would fight you to serve she who is my Queen.”

Elden takes that as his cue to leave, wrapping his warm around your waist and helping you through the great room as Nat keeps Sharon’s attention.

“I do not wish to kill you, sister,” the beta whispers.

Nat only chuckles softly. “You won’t get the chance.”

Their swords clashing is the last thing you hear before Elden gets you outside the fortress and into the fresh air.

You take deep breaths of it, having missed the feeling of the wind on your face, but your relief is short-lived.

Instead of the peace of nature, you’re greeted with a bloodbath.

And, right in the centre, are the two men who have caused you the most pain in your life, fighting each other to the death.

James fights with practiced skill, his age not slowing him like so many believed it would. If anything, it gives him more power than his opponent.

The soldiers around give them a wide berth, knowing that they are each other’s opponents, a kill meant solely for the other.

James swipes the traitor's knees and sends him to the ground, then presses the tip of his sword to the man’s chest.

He pants on the ground, blood dripping down his chin as he grins at the King.

“I understand why you took her the way you did, now,” he begins, ignoring the anger in the King’s eyes. “Why you forced her to submit. She looked so pretty, screaming and crying and begging me to stop. But I didn’t. Because she deserves to be treated like the filthy, worthless whore she is!” He spits the words -and a bit of blood- into James’ face, and the King is enraged.

A roar tears from his throat as his eyes burn brighter than the fiery pits of hell, any shred of humanity gone as his Alpha takes over completely.

He tosses his sword aside and pounces on the man, laying punch after painful punch to his face and neck and anywhere he can reach.

He doesn’t care if it isn’t honourable. He doesn’t care if it’s weak.

All that matters is punishing the man who hurt his Omega.

You watch in horror as your Alpha beats on the man who hurt you.

Dragging Elden through the battle, you move as quickly as you can toward them.

“Stop!” You shout, your voice stronger than you thought it would be.

It carries out on the wind, across the courtyard, and many men do, indeed, stop.

Your husband is one of them.

With his fist raised and ready to strike again, he stops, snapping his gaze to the source of your voice.

Everything seems to pause as you approach, pushing away from Elden to walk on your own, determination and anger fuelling you.

Your eyes sting and clouds cover the skies as the Gods mirror your wrath.

“I should do to you exactly what it is you did to me,” you hiss at the man on the ground, pulling a sword from a corpse as you pass it and approach him.

“I should beat you senseless,” you spit, the fire in your voice rivalling that in your husband's eyes.

“I should take you against your will, force you to do things you’d sooner die than do!” You stop before him, sword held tightly in your hand as you press it to his throat.

James rises silently and steps back, allowing you to do whatever it is you please to the man.

“I should strip from you your pride, your dignity! Steal your hope and your faith until you are nothing but a shell of who you once were! And then, when you are begging for a fate so kind as death, I will not grant it.”

You lean down slightly so that your face is closer to his and drop your voice to a whisper, your bottom lip quivering.

“But I will not. Because I am not like you.”

You toss the sword aside and rise to your full height again.

“You will answer for your crimes the way all criminals do. And you will die a pointless, senseless death. Without honour, without victory. Your name will not be breathed of in the history of this country, and your very existence will be erased. All this,” you motion around you, to the fighting that has ceased, “will have been for nothing.”

Fury gathers on the man’s face as you step back again, your husband nodding toward him.

“Bind him and bring him to the dungeon.”

Two men grab him and drag him out of your line of sight, but you can hear them treating him roughly.

Good, you think.

Your hands tremble slightly and the weight of everything that has happened slowly slips from your shoulders, only to be replaced by the familiar and welcome weight of your husband’s hands.

“Omega,” he whispers, turning you to face him.

You look up at him with wide tear-filled eyes and bury yourself in his chest.

He’s caught off guard for only a moment before wrapping you in a tight hug, squeezing you as if he’s trying to melt your body into his.

Tears rain down your face when you pull away to look up at him, and he immediately leans down to nuzzle against your bond mark.

He kisses and licks it, scenting you thoroughly and calming down the raging alpha within himself.

Once he’s satisfied that you smell of nothing but him, he pulls away slightly and gazes lovingly into your eyes, tears on his own cheeks.

“Omega,” he repeats, stroking your cheek gently.

You lean into his touch and reach up with hesitant fingers, tracing over his lips gingerly.

“Alpha,” you reply, lost in the feeling of having him again.

He shakes his head and brings his forehead down to rest against yours, squeezing his eyes shut.

“I thought... I thought I’d lost you forever,” he confesses.

You lean up to brush your lips against his, “I’m here, Alpha. You saved me.”

A growl rumbles in his chest and he wraps his arms around your frame again, needing to feel you against him.

You rest your head on his chest, listening to the steady thumping of his heart as he addresses his men.

“Any man who wishes to fight against us may do so. But he will be killed, along with his family.”

Not a single man moves a muscle.

“That’s what I thought. Round up the traitors, bind them all. They will be tried when we return,” he says to Sam, his hands never leaving you.

“Go home, Your Majesty. Be with your Omega. We can handle this,” Elden says softly, stepping forward and placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

James bows his head in gratitude and nods his agreement, taking your hand and leading you away from the bloody field.

He helps you onto his horse then climbs on in front of you, waiting until your arms are wrapped around his waist before he begins the journey home.

Upon his horse, with your arms around him and your head pressed against his back, your inner omega finally feels peace.

#bucky x reader #alpha!bucky x reader #alpha!king!bucky x omega!reader #alpha!king!bucky x reader #king!bucky x princess!reader #bucky x reader abo au #bucky x reader abo #alpha!Bucky x omega!reader #bucky/reader #bucky/you #Steve Rogers/you #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky/y/n #bucky x reader royal au #bucky x reader princess au #bucky x reader king au

[paganimagevault]

Venus Pandemos by Marc Charles Gabriel Gleyre 1852

"Aphrodite Pandemos (Ancient Greek: Πάνδημος, romanized: Pándēmos; "common to all the people") occurs as an epithet of the Greek Goddess Aphrodite. This epithet can be interpreted in different ways. In Plato's Symposium, Pausanias of Athens describes Aphrodite Pandemos as the Goddess of sensual pleasures, in opposition to Aphrodite Urania, or "the heavenly Aphrodite". At Elis, she was represented as riding on a ram by Scopas. Another interpretation is that of Aphrodite uniting all the inhabitants of a country into one social or political body. In this respect she was worshipped at Athens along with Peitho (persuasion), and her worship was said to have been instituted by Theseus at the time when he united the scattered townships into one great body of citizens. According to some authorities, it was Solon who erected the sanctuary of Aphrodite Pandemos, either because her image stood in the agora, or because the hetairai had to pay the costs of its erection. The worship of Aphrodite Pandemos also occurs at Megalopolis in Arcadia, and at Thebes. A festival in honour of her is mentioned by Athenaeus. The sacrifices offered to her consisted of white goats. Pandemos occurs also as a surname of Eros. According to Harpocration, who quotes Apollodorus, Aphrodite Pandemos has very old origins, "the title Pandemos was given to the Goddess established in the neighborhood of the Old Agora because all the Demos (people) gathered there of old in their assemblies which they called agorai." To honour Aphrodite's and Peitho's role in the unification of Attica, the Aphrodisia festival was organized annually on the fourth of the month of Hekatombaion (the fourth day of each month was the sacred day of Aphrodite). The Synoikia that honoured Athena, the protectress of Theseus and main patron of Athens, also took place in the month of Hekatombaion."

From Plato's Symposium:

"Such in the main was Phaedrus' speech as reported to me. It was followed by several others, which my friend could not recollect at all clearly; so he passed them over and related that of Pausanias, which ran as follows: "I do not consider, Phaedrus, our plan of speaking a good one, if the rule is simply that we are to make eulogies of Love. If Love were only one, it would be right; but, you see, he is not one, and this being the case, it would be more correct to have it previously announced what sort we ought to praise. Now this defect I will endeavor to amend, and will first decide on a Love who deserves our praise, and then will praise him in terms worthy of his Godhead. We are all aware that there is no Aphrodite or Love-passion without a Love. True, if that Goddess were one, then Love would be one: but since there are two of her, there must needs be two Loves also. Does anyone doubt that she is double? Surely there is the elder, of no mother born, but daughter of Heaven, whence we name her Heavenly; while the younger was the child of Zeus and Dione, and her we call Popular. It follows then that of the two Loves also the one ought to be called Popular, as fellow-worker with the one of those Goddesses, and the other Heavenly. All Gods, of course, ought to be praised: but none the less I must try to describe the faculties of each of these two. For of every action it may be observed that as acted by itself it is neither noble nor base. For instance, in our conduct at this moment, whether we drink or sing or converse, none of these things is noble in itself; each only turns out to be such in the doing, as the manner of doing it may be. For when the doing of it is noble and right, the thing itself becomes noble; when wrong, it becomes base. So also it is with loving, and Love is not in every case noble or worthy of celebration, but only when he impels us to love in a noble manner.

“Now the Love that belongs to the Popular Aphrodite is in very truth popular and does his work at haphazard: this is the Love we see in the meaner sort of men; who, in the first place, love women as well as boys; secondly, where they love, they are set on the body more than the soul; and thirdly, they choose the most witless people they can find, since they look merely to the accomplishment and care not if the manner be noble or no. Hence they find themselves doing everything at haphazard, good or its opposite, without distinction: for this Love proceeds from the Goddess who is far the younger of the two, and who in her origin partakes of both female and male. But the other Love springs from the Heavenly Goddess who, firstly, partakes not of the female but only of the male; and secondly, is the elder, untinged with wantonness: wherefore those who are inspired by this Love betake them to the male, in fondness for what has the robuster nature and a larger share of mind. Even in the passion for boys you may note the way of those who are under the single incitement of this Love: they love boys only when they begin to acquire some mind—a growth associated with that of down on their chins. For I conceive that those who begin to love them at this age are prepared to be always with them and share all with them as long as life shall last: they will not take advantage of a boy's green thoughtlessness to deceive him and make a mock of him by running straight off to another. Against this love of boys a law should have been enacted, to prevent the sad waste of attentions paid to an object so uncertain: for who can tell where a boy will end at last, vicious or virtuous in body and soul? Good men, however, voluntarily make this law for themselves, and it is a rule which those ‘popular’ lovers ought to be forced to obey, just as we force them, so far as we can, to refrain from loving our freeborn women. These are the persons responsible for the scandal which prompts some to say it is a shame to gratify one's lover: such are the cases they have in view, for they observe all their reckless and wrongful doings; and surely, whatsoever is done in an orderly and lawful manner can never justly bring reproach.

“Further, it is easy to note the rule with regard to love in other cities: there it is laid down in simple terms, while ours here is complicated. For in Elis and Boeotia and where there is no skill in speech they have simply an ordinance that it is seemly to gratify lovers, and no one whether young or old will call it shameful, in order, I suppose, to save themselves the trouble of trying what speech can do to persuade the youths; for they have no ability for speaking. But in Ionia and many other regions where they live under foreign sway, it is counted a disgrace. Foreigners hold this thing, and all training in philosophy and sports, to be disgraceful, because of their despotic government; since, I presume, it is not to the interest of their princes to have lofty notions engendered in their subjects, or any strong friendships and communions; all of which Love is pre-eminently apt to create. It is a lesson that our despots learnt by experience; for Aristogeiton's love and Harmodius's friendship grew to be so steadfast that it wrecked their power. Thus where it was held a disgrace to gratify one's lover, the tradition is due to the evil ways of those who made such a law— that is, to the encroachments of the rulers and to the cowardice of the ruled. But where it was accepted as honorable without any reserve, this was due to a sluggishness of mind in the law-makers. In our city we have far better regulations, which, as I said, are not so easily grasped."

-taken from wikipedia and Plato's Symposium 180c-182d

#aphrodite #venus #cupid #pagan #paganism #european art #literature #history #paintings #plato #pausanias #ancient greece #Marc Charles Gabriel Gleyre

[drarryspecificrecs]

2022.04 ~ Top 10 longest fics posted on AO3

1. When Times are Dire by @aibidil [E, 130k]

►Magical Britain is screwed, and it's once again up to Harry to save it. This time, by marrying Draco Malfoy.

2. Make This Leap by @oflights [M, 118k]

►Harry owns a struggling restaurant which is running out of money, and his Head Chef has just handed in notice. He's at a bit of a loss as to what to do until Narcissa Malfoy presents an obvious solution: bring in Draco Malfoy as Chef and part owner. Harry does.

3. Pages of You by @wolfpants [E, 102k]

►Summer, 1980. Harry is floating between university and becoming a Real Certified Adult. He's not ready. He really isn't. In a desperate attempt to have the Best Last Summer ever, he takes a casual job at his godfather's bookshop in London, starts an illicit pen pal affair with a wordy posh boy that he's catching feelings for, all while dealing with the son of Sirius's business rival, one Draco Malfoy, insufferable know-it-all extraordinaire. [...]

4. Paroled by Sita_Z [M, 83k]

►The war is over. Sentenced for his crimes, Draco Malfoy finds himself looking at several long years in Azkaban. Behind bars, Lucius and Narcissa are scheming to get their son out of prison, and they’re not above involving the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry, of course, never could say no when it comes to saving people.

5. Two Shadows in the Night by @ubiestveritas [T, 80k]

►Five years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry returns to his old school to claim the position of DADA teacher. The way he's been ignoring his issues and trying to live up to everyone's impossibly high expectations is catching up to him. Will a certain blond ex-Death Eater be able to help him finally heal?

6. Echoing Green by @thegatheringdust [E, 70k]

►Back at Hogwarts for his eighth year, Draco is offered the opportunity of a lifetime: the chance to enter a prestigious potion competition and maybe salvage his future. The only catch? He has to work with Potter. After everything they’ve been through, asking for Potter’s help seems like Draco’s worst nightmare. But as they struggle to heal old wounds, Draco begins to question everything he thought he knew about himself and about the boy who won’t stop staring at him with those terrible green eyes.

7. The Writing on The Wall by inkycreamscone [M, 56k]

►in which Draco is an outcast, Harry is the Golden Boy, and a Muggle song scrawled on a shower wall, of all things, bridges the years of... everything between them. The only hitch is- neither of them realise who they're communicating with as they scribble lyrics down one after the other.

8. I Wish I Could Forget by literary_lion [M, 55k]

►Draco Malfoy disappears one night and Harry begins to doubt the likelihood of the quiet year at Hogwarts he had hoped for. But Harry’s suspicions are turned on their head when he discovers that Malfoy is the one who needs his help (not that the stubborn git will admit it). // A story of building and fighting for connections in the aftermath of trauma.

9. The Golden Boy by @flightinflame [M, 53k]

►A spell cast in anger exposes a secret Draco wanted kept hidden, and Harry has to try and deal with the consequences of his impulsiveness, pass his OWLs, and manage the relationship that is forming between him and the boy he assumed was his enemy.

10. Draco Malfoy the Reconstructed Slytherin Prince by gokioh [T, 48k]

►Returning for his 8th year at Hogwarts; Draco must face the challenges of trying to better the Malfoy name, gain the highest grades for his N.E.W.T.s and take charge of his life again. It's a lot harder when he now has the entirety of the Slytherin students looking at him for guidance and his friends ready and waiting for his orders.

※ HONOURABLE MENTIONS :

11. The Bond by Myneighbourtodoro_ki [T, 47k]

►Harry is an auror and Draco a potioneer. A new potion is sweeping across wizarding Britain and Harry is tasked with catching the guys who are behind it. But when does any of Harry Potter's plans go exactly as planned?

12. Heal Thyself by @astolat [T, 46k]

►[...] “What course?” Draco said, then, “No, don’t be ridiculous,” when he realized she meant the notice pinned up on the board he’d been staring at: Applicants To The Introductory Mediwizard Course For The Coming Term Shall Present Themselves In The Chief Mediwizard’s Office By August 24th.

13. Coming to my senses by suhtmuikkis [T, 44k]

►Harry and Draco are forced to live together due to a spell/potion accident gone wrong. To make matters more interesting, they need to navigate a world where Harry loses one sense at a time, while Draco gets theirs heightened.

14. Once and Never Again by Avonne [E, 40k]

►One morning after with his sworn enemy should be enough to warn Draco that he's going down a dangerous path. But does he learn? Of course not. Month after month, he finds himself returning to Potter's embrace. What is wrong with him?

—

※ Word count: 1k ~ 15k

※ Word count: 15k ~ 40k

The Affair of Truth and Treachery by erysichthon [E, 36k]

Affection by blueraven1340 [T, 34k]

all my love's wrapped in shades of red by asininemind [T, 15k]

any day now by @oknowkiss [E, 16k]

Hanahaki by @ladyroxanne21 [E, 30k]

If You Tell Another Soul by TabithaMonpress [E, 18k]

The notches in the door frame by Bluemask [E, 23k]

Once More With Feeling by InnerLilith [E, 28k]

The Snake Charmer by RecklessHeartbeat [T, 26k]

Two Broken Halves Of A Whole by Bookworm_For_Life [G, 20k]

—

Ongoing Fest/Exchange

※ Fics would be listed elsewhere.

Drarry Spin the Wheel Fest | @drarry-spin-the-wheel-fest

HP Trans Fest 2022 | @hptransfest

#drarry #drarry fanfic #drarry fic rec #harry potter #draco malfoy #monthly review #2022

[josefavomjaaga]

Letter to Eugène, February 1810

After Napoleon had given Josephine the boot in December 1809, Eugène had wanted to return to Milan as soon as possible, once the legal procedures were settled and Josephine had gotten over her first shock. But, as things always go when Napoleon is involved, plans changed, and while he had wanted to leave Paris immediately after the New Year's celebration, Eugène found himself still in Paris by February. Ample occasion for more correspondence between viceroy and vicequeen.

Auguste to Eugène, Milan, 7 February 1810 Fenaroli returned last night, the King of Naples took another route, despite having announced himself... I hope he will know that everything had been prepared to receive him as king.

Is it me or does somebody sound slightly piqued here? This must refer to Joachim Murat returning home to Naples after Napoleon's "divorce" from Josephine. With relations between Murat and Eugène being rather strained and Murat having to pass through the Kingdom of Italy on his way to Naples, they obviously had not wanted to add fuel to the fire, and Auguste had been ready to welcome Murat with all royal honours.

And then the guy doesn't even show up. Typical.

I flatter myself, my friend, that you will not follow his example and that you will take the shortest route to get here. Besides, you must know what a delight your arrival will be to me and to the whole kingdom, whose anxiety grew the longer you were away. I have therefore been careful not to mention the Grand Duchy, as this would cause widespread alarm.

The Grand-Duchy in question being that of Francfort, that Napoleon had promised to Eugène in recompensation for the Kingdom of Italy. And Eugène likely loosing the Italian crown is also the reason for the anxiety in the kingdom that Auguste speaks of. The Italians were not stupid and probably already suspected that their viceroy would not return to them at all. Which might not have concerned them all so much because of him, but because they saw their viceroy as the one thing that stood between them and being annexed to France.

Though Auguste does see some personal attachement, too:

On this latest occasion, we were clearly shown how much people love us. The Emperor can't be angry about it, because we don't intrigue for that, and our way of thinking has always been and always will be the same. 

Interesting that Auguste even assumes Napoleon would be angry about the vice-regal couple being well-liked in their Italian domain. As she has not met Napoleon since her wedding in Munich.

To tell you the truth, I don't believe in this new destination that we are supposed to receive, but our good conscience must compensate us for an oblivion that would otherwise be very painful, and that would only afflict you because of me, I know; but don't you know me, my sweet husband, and don't you know that with you and my children I will always be happy? I am young, but events have taught me to appreciate grand things as they ought to be seen; so don't torment yourself because of me, and think only of the happiness I shall soon feel when I embrace you and tell you in person that I love nothing in this world like my Eugène; this feeling will last at least as long as life itself.

#napoleon's family #eugene de beauharnais #auguste von bayern #not a good day today #needed something to cheer me up #good thing these two never disappoint

[princesssarisa]

Character ask: Honour "Beauty" Huston (Robin McKinley's "Beauty")

No one requested this. I just finished rereading the book and felt like discussing it.

Favorite thing about them: How human and relatable she is, especially compared to the idealized fairy tale heroines of tradition. She makes the parallels between Beauty and the Beast and Jane Eyre more obvious than ever, since she's not a physical beauty (or at least doesn't think she is until the end), nor is she the traditional sweet and gentle figure, but a no-nonsense, stubborn, intellectual bookworm and horse girl, who only gradually attunes to magic and romance as she lives in the castle. These differences from the traditional Beauty make her more of a kindred spirit to the Beast (since they're both kind-hearted yet slightly rough around the edges, and both insecure about their looks), and they humanize her too. So do many details in the way she's written. For example, the sheer physicality of her first-person narration – her emphasis on smells, tastes, and tactile sensations, her mentions of aching feet or hands raw with work, her dislike of dainty teacups and preference for a big mug of tea, etc. – enhance the sense of her grounded personality and make her seem all the more real. Or the fact that she doesn't ask her father for a single, pretty but ephemeral rose, but makes a more practical request for rose seeds, with which she can plant a garden full of roses that will last. Now, of course, the idea of reimagining a classic fairy tale heroine as plain, strong-willed and down-to-earth rather than sweet, gentle and beautiful is nothing new anymore. Neither is a YA heroine with low self-esteem because she thinks she's not pretty. But those tropes were obviously fresher and newer in 1978, when this novel was first published, so I feel free to consider them effective in Beauty's case without calling them clichés.

Least favorite thing about them: The very brief moment when she loses her temper and shouts some nasty things at her horse Greatheart when he panics at the sight of the Beast and almost throws her. I understand that she's struggling not to fall and break her neck, but it still seems harsh and faintly out of character for a girl who's usually so level-headed. But then, her level-headedness also disappears at other important points, like when when she goes into hysterics and faints at the reveal that she can never leave the castle. I suppose the key to understanding these moments is that she doesn't often let her emotions flow freely, but when she does, whether in anger, anguish, or fear, she goes all-out.

Three things I have in common with them:

*I love books.

*I'm sometimes insecure about my appearance.

*I like spice cake and hot chocolate.

Three things I don't have in common with them:

*I don't have any sisters.

*I have very little experience with horses.

*I'm not allergic to dogs, as she mentions in passing that she is.

Favorite line:

To her sister Hope, when the latter worries that their father won't approve of her love for a blacksmith:

"If you think you'll be happiest scrubbing tar out of burlap aprons, Father won't say nay. And he will probably buy you several maids to do the scrubbing."

When her invisible maids are trying to force her into a fancy gown that she thinks is much too beautiful for a plain girl like her:

"It's a beautiful dress, and that's why I won't wear it; if you put a peacock's tail on a sparrow, he's still a brown little, wretched little, drab little sparrow."

After she saves the Beast from dying at the climax, and is nearly swooning from exhaustion, and the Beast urges her to rest:

"Not yet. I have to see to Greatheart – I'd still be in the forest without him – but I had to find you first – and then there's something I must tell you... I can't sleep now. It's daylight. What I want is breakfast."

Attuned though she is now with the castle's magic and her own love, she's still her old, down-to-earth self. Even when she's near collapse after journeying for twelve hours through the forest, finding the Beast near death, and then miraculously reviving him, she talks about tending to her horse and getting something to eat.

brOTP: Her father, her sisters Grace and Hope, her brother-in-law Ger, and if non-sentient animals count, her horse Greatheart.

OTP: The Beast/Prince.

nOTP: Her father.

Random headcanon: Her life story will inspire the fairy tale of Beauty and the Beast as we know it today. But the telling-and-retelling process, combined with attempts by parents and governesses to make the story more didactic for young ladies, will distort the tale and result in all the familiar differences from the "true" story. For example, that Beauty was always physically beautiful, that her sisters were wicked and jealous rather than kind and loving, that she did all the cooking and cleaning in their cottage rather than the "boyish" outdoor work she really did, and that she asked her father to bring her a rose rather than rose seeds.

Unpopular opinion: I don't think Disney's Belle is as much of a knockoff of her as some people do. Yes, Disney did arguably borrow some details from this novel – even more in the 2017 remake than in the animated version – but apart from their shared love of books, which comes from Mme. de Beaumont's version of the original fairy tale, this Beauty is a very different person from Belle. For the most part, Beauty is a grounded, unromantic girl, whose love of books is intellectual (for example, she writes her own translations of Greek tragedies and dreams of becoming a scholar at a university), and who learns to embrace magic and passion in the Romantic world of the Beast's castle. Belle is a sensitive, "dazed and distracted" dreamer, who loves books for the adventure and romance they bring her, and she doesn't change as much as Beauty does by the end, but finds what she was always looking for, just in an unexpected way.

Song I associate with them: None.

Favorite picture of them:

This stylized silhouette from the cover of the book's 2018 edition.

#character ask #beauty #honour “beauty” huston #beauty: a retelling of the story of beauty and the beast #robin mckinley #1978 #fairy tale #beauty and the beast #fairy tale retelling #ask game #fictional characters #fictional character ask

[cutephlegm]

Something red

I - Dear secretary

Pairing: Gortash x reader

CW: Eventual NSFW

Read on Ao3

Summary: Lord Enver Gortash. Baldur's gate's soon to be archduke whom she had the displeasure of working for. Not as anything particularly honourable- you were only his secretary. He wasn't a bad employer; though he was arrogant, something which never failed to get on her nerves... One day he asks you to accompany him to a banquet, taking the role as his wife as to not feel out of place. This simple request turns into a slew of intimate encounters.

Since that fateful day you were hired, you seldom had the misfortune of crossing paths with Gortash. The mere mention of his name made your gut fill with a strange mixture of dread and excitement. Something which was partially to blame in why you’d applied to work for him. You would sit at your pretty little desk, receiving instructions, missives, notes… which you would bring to the lord’s office, slotting them under his door if he was busy- which was the case most of the time.

If, however, he wasn’t in one of those lucrative meetings he always raged on about he would be seated at his desk, eyes dismissively glued down to a piece of parchment he would be writing something important on. “Lord Gortash, I have documents for you,” You would say and he would hum in approval, gesturing for you to come closer. You would do as he commanded and once you arrived straight in front of his desk, he’d tap for you to place them in a certain spot, not even bothering to raise his eyes to greet you.

In all fairness… he was your employer; it was a far fetch to expect him to treat you with any decency. At least he paid you minimum wage for quite an easy job, you’d think to yourself, returning to your quarters. You were perfectly content with looking after the lord’s tedious affairs for a modest salary and the fact that you rarely had to see him was only a bonus.

Today… was different. Much different. You started the day off as unassuming as ever, you’d received letters, address to Gortash. Your eyes pried through the senders, cross referencing them with a list of important clients. Those which came from such senders needed to be directly taken to Gortash. Something you did almost out of instinct. You made your way down the lavish walls all the way to his office. You pressed your ear against the door- noting that no sound came from inside- he must not be occupied… you thought to yourself.

You knocked on his door. He answered, as he usually did; “Enter.” And so, you did. As you stepped foot in that office, your gaze roamed its way around his office, taking note of things that you would usually brush by. You admired the walls… intricate carving which were meticulously ingrained into the fine mahogany. The quaint embellishments and costly furniture which reeked of over consumerism and unapologetic aristocracy. Though it was a rather arrogant display of wealth- you couldn’t help but admire his taste in decor.

The scent of herbs and fine wine flooded her senses… was that rosemary? You finally averted your gaze towards his desk, and shook your head at the display. Candles… adorning his desk, and a glass of blood red wine carefully placed beside him… and there he was. Lord Enver Gortash. Long fingers tapping against the desk, tracing down the paper his eyes were firmly planted on. A plethora of documents adorning his desk.

You took a step closer, noticing little things about the lord you hadn’t before…his face showed signs of countless sleepless nights, expressed through tired, dark eyes… and most striking of all- the way his shirt was slightly undone… you could make out his collarbones… his chest… bare… “Ah yes, good evening.” This surprised you slightly- It was uncommon that Gortash actually spoke to you if it wasn’t to pass on commands. Most strangely his eyes fixed onto you, meeting yours. His lips spread into a sly but welcoming smile, gesturing you towards a seat on the opposite site of his desk. “I’d like to have a word with you… secretary…” You gulped- almost audibly.

Doing what he said, you sat down, simultaneously getting a better look of him. There were splotches of ink on his fingers, likewise staining the sleeves of the fancy silk shirt he wore. Charming… in a sense. “I’m all ears…” You affirmed, trying to break the slightly awkward silence that had begun. Gortash scoffed slightly, folding the letter he’d been writing. “I have something to propose to you… something you can do for me which would prove to be… helpful…” He began, that grin still lingering on his expression.

You broke eye contact, clearing your throat slightly. Was it your mind playing tricks on you? Or was the lord implying what you thought he might be.

“Let me… reiterate. That did sound awfully suggestive.” He smirked, venom in that dark voice of his. “I would like you to accompany me to one of my meetings, an extremely important one. Filled with high-profile clients.” Gortash rose from his seat, pacing back and forth. “Now you may be wondering why I’m offering such a privilege to one of my… secretaries…” He began. “This meeting isn’t the usual, it’s much more unformal. It’s less of a meeting- Moreso a banquet.” You listened attentively to what the lord had to say. He played with his words very carefully, occasionally becoming… flustered? Or was it just the amount of alcohol he’d had which made his face redden. He cleared his throat. “Most of my clients are bringing their wives, betrothed, etc…” He paused. “It would be unusual for me to turn up alone, which is why I’m offering you the position.”

Before thinking about his offer, you felt the strong inclination to disagree. However, you stopped yourself. Yes you disliked the lord, but this could prove to be an interesting evening for you. And if it went well… well who knows, perhaps you would find yourself promoted.

“Now rest assured you will not have to do anything intimate.” He looked away, clearing his throat once more. “In fact, you won’t even need to interact with most the guests- that will be my job, you would need to simply sit still and look the part.” You watched as Gortash wrapped up his pacing and took a seat in front of you once again, awaiting your answer, his eyes eagerly tracing your expression.

“That doesn’t sound half bad… fine. I’ll do it, Gortash.” You managed to muster, trying to look as convicted as you could.

“Ah, that’s the spirit!” He licked dark wine off his even darker smile, his eyes boring into you, like some forbidden toxin. “It will be taking place tomorrow evening; I look forward to seeing you there… furthermore… you shall dress in something formal.” You cocked your head to the side, formal? “When you say formal… what exactly to you mean?” “Something modest. Something… my wife would wear.” He appeared to be deep in thought for a moment, most likely thinking of what his hypothetical wife would wear. “Something red.” Gortash let out a laugh, like most things about him, it had a cruel edge to it.

“Don’t disappoint me, secretary.”

#enver gortash #bg3 #bg3 gortash #lord enver gortash #lord gortash #gortash x reader #baldur's gate 3

[strobbylemonade]

Hermitcraft Season 9 Retrospective

Across 3 versions and nearing the span of 2 years, HC9 has been an absolutely delightful and awe-filled experience. A summary and retrospective of Hermitcraft Season 9, and a personal introspection of how this season has affected me over the years. Words: 1099 Read Length: 5mins 30secs

Like many, Mumbo was my introduction into Hermitcraft - I started watching a bit way through "Sixfinity" and the absolute scale of the projects then blew me away. I honestly didn't think they could pull it off better, just so many fantastic builds over such a long time that it would take a monumental effort to beat it.

Boy was I wrong.

I watched Mumbo bumble through the start of the series, with him, Scar and Grian blasting their way through the diamond war and move out of the rampaged starting area - I began watching Scar as Scarland unfolded in all of its monumental glory, but I really only preferred watching Mumbo.

And then he went on break.

Previously I thought it was insane that some people watched so many members - how do you have so much time on your hands? But when every single member of the server spends so much time and breathes so much life into their builds, their projects, and their community, you can't help but stop and stare (Decked Out aside - Scarland and Pearl's gorgeous alien base are the two most astonishing builds I've seen in my life).

Not only did Mumbo taking a break encourage me to watch other hermits, but there was also a melting pot of individual projects and community events: The King and its following war (where I started watching the Soup Group more often, and my now-favourite hermit, Pearl), the Rift, Stat Poker, TCG, the Prank Wars (again), Decked Out, and lately the Hermitcraft Grand Prix. The community events went above and beyond in entertainment and creativity, and also displayed the fantastic organisational skills (especially Rendog and Grian) needed to create collaborations of such scale.

Again I must sing Decked Out 2's praises - it may as well be one of the most impressive feats built mostly by one person in survival Minecraft. I've watched so many of Tango's streams - through him, I've both seen a different side of the hermits I'm familiar with (congratulations to Pearl for beating decked out), and saw the best side of hermits I don't watch often (Hypno is such a fantastic and intelligent runner). And our other highly detailed all-season-project card-deck-based not-so-mini-minigame this season - VintageBeef's TCG - was also turned into a real card game! Both bringing hermits together hermits to play the game, and commissioning so many fantastic and dedicated Hermitcraft fan-artists to draw art for the IRL cards, Hermitcraft TCG was no doubt a hallmark of the community, both with the hermits and fans.

And to the "hermit-adjacent" series, honourable mentions go out to: 1. The thrilling and murderous Life Series (which had THREE seasons during S9!) 2. The fantastic Imp & Skizz podcast (Impulse is now a part of my "hermit-rotation", and fingers crossed for Skizz in S10!) 3. The Hermitcraft Recap which I've sat down and watched during my breaks at uni every Monday (both catching me up with the members I don't watch and also saving my sanity)

One thing I would like to talk about is TinFoilChef, who passed away last year. I honestly didn't believe it happened. I very rarely watched him on occasion, and he never really appeared in the people who I watched's videos - a true hermit in every aspect of the word. I've seen the neatly lined mines in the previous seasons, spreading out like tendrils just underneath the surface of the beautiful builds - a functional, cacophonous, and sprawling web of mines dug out by hand, invisible above ground but ever-present.

Season 10 will be the first season without him.

It's been a while since he passed. He reminded me a bit of my father, and him just being gone hit close to home. I just assumed he'd be on Hermitcraft forever, somehow. I do thank you, TFC, for your laughter and your boisterous presence. You'll be sorely missed, and Hermitcraft will always carry a piece of you with it.

This season alone has spanned many of my personal milestones - it started in my final year of high school, some of the emotionally roughest times in my life, and has stayed with me through the first year of university. It's seen me graduate, get a job, file my taxes for the first time, go to my first anime convention, make a Twitter and Tumblr account, make friends, lose friends, and comforted me throughout. There's something special about coming back after a rough day, falling apart at the seams, and being able to put on some smooth music as the most gorgeous monument you've seen gets constructed in front of your very eyes. There's something comforting about knowing that no matter how many firsts or lasts I'm going through, and how scary it is, I can always turn on a video by someone I love watching and turn my brain off for a second. Having this exciting (thanks Decked Out) yet confidently unending (thanks, Decked Out) was some stability I really needed in my life. Having Hermitcraft - the server, the game, the community - to always come back to, and spinning stories out of funny little block people during times when everything felt so serious and talking to friends was overwhelming, made my life that much better.

Overall, like Season 9, this retrospective is nearing an end. I've definitely missed some things, the biggest of which is Xisuma's Vanilla Tweaks and otherwise commitment to the server, but otherwise here's a quick recap of my personal highlights of the season:

Here's the hermits I started watching this season: Pearl, Bdubs, Tango, Gem, Impulse, Grian, Scar, Zedaph, and a handful of Doc, X, Cleo, and Ren. 14/26 - that's over half the members! For someone who's only been watching one hermit for 4 years beforehand, that's a feat for me.

And here's my favourite moments and events: • The entire run of Decked out • The entire run of TCG • Doc's Perimeter • The entire server covering Doc's Perimeter • Any moment where the hermits have just come together and hung out (Waiting in minigame lobbies in particular) • Pearl, Bdubs, and Scar's absolutely magnificent and artistically wonderful megabases • "This time on Hermitcraft - Me!" by Pixilriffs during the crossover • Hermitcraft x Gamers Outreach charity stream (where they hit the goal before the stream even started!) • All Zedvancements

My love goes out to the Hermitcraft server, its members, and its community; here's to wonderful Season 10, and a well deserved break for all the hermits.

#hermitcraft #writing #hermitcraft season 9 #strbylmn posts

[june-again]

CHILUMI: # a chasmic mistake.

CHAPTER III: protection.

chapter summary. in which Lumine tries not to think about some very specific things. in which Lumine and Childe are faced with darkness, but still take their opportunities to quip.

wc. 2.8k. genre. enemies to lovers, action/adventure.

table of contents / next chapter

Childe and Lumine eventually found the ravine floor to start slanting further downwards, and with no other option, they continued to trudge along. The ravine floor wasn’t exactly a path like before and it made each step a risk for tripping, or even falling into an unseen hole. She tried not to think about it too hard.

Lumine found herself adjusting to holding onto him shamefully well. She would not think about how much thicker and more muscular his arm was than expected. She would not think about how he smelled—a scent best described by the howling wind over a lake at dusk—or how her occasional glances at his face offered her more comfort than revulsion. But there was no way for her to stop thinking about the warmth of his clothed arm against her own bare one, like a furnace in the dead of winter casting heat, uncontained by the wilderness around them.

Though it was unspoken, it seemed that neither of them wanted to be the one to suggest they rested; they were both exhausted, but they were both even more proud. Even as damaged as the foundation of Lumine’s pride was by her current physical contact with No. 11 of the Fatui Harbingers, she would not allow it to crumble just yet.

Eventually, Childe began to talk. Though his breathing was still ragged and his voice somewhat hoarse, Lumine got the idea that he wanted to pass the time.

He told stories of Schneznaya and of his family. Lumine had only ever met Teucer, but after a few minutes of his fond rambling, she felt like she’d met them all. It had always been hard for Lumine to think about what his family must be like; did they hate what he did? Or did they honour it? Was he a hero to them? Did his family really think the Tsaritsa and the Harbingers were doing the right thing?

She asked him these questions, and he answered them. His answers were not entirely satisfying, but they were… interesting. In some ways, she could not help but think of Aether as he spoke of them. Any of her doubts of his capacity to have familiar love as he described the letters he sent home and anticipated responses to.

She recalled, when his younger brother appeared in Liyue, Teucer saying he recognized her based off of Childe’s descriptions of her in his letters.

“How much have you told them about me?” she asked.

“Oh, well. Only a bit. I’ve described what you look like and what you do. And what a welcome inconvenience you’ve been, of course.”

“That doesn’t sound like ‘only a bit.’”

“And what would? What dry details was I supposed to mention instead?”

“I might have expected you to mention my name once or twice. Maybe Paimon, too. But not a full description of my appearance. That’s already a lot. Did you also tell them about the duel in the Golden House?”

“Mhm. It was an exciting occasion. Made for a great story.”

“Bet you made me sound like the villain.” She scowled. “Did you at least say anything interesting about me? Other than the fact that I kicked your ass?”

He chuckled a bit hoarsely. “Not really.”

Lumine also recalled Teucer saying that Childe had written that he’d wanted to join Lumine on her travels if he got the chance. She could not bring herself to ask him about this, having a feeling he’d deny it.

She wasn’t sure why he’d deny it, but she was sure that it offended her somehow.

“You have family too, right, comrade?”

Lumine paused. “It’s complicated.”

“Ah. Quarrels?”

Lumine pursed her lips. She was hesitant to tell him anything truly personal, and with Paimon not here to speak on her account, she realized she could keep the truth to herself. He would have less to use against her.

A voice at the back of her mind told her that he wasn’t the type of person to use such personal things against her. He may be Fatui, but he wasn’t a total jerk. Jerk or not, though, the less the Fatui knew about her the better she decided. “Yeah. Quarrels.”

“If I may ask, what caused them?”

Lumine sucked air through her teeth, her chest feeling heavy. “Oh, you know… we spent every second together for quite some time… We travelled together, so…” So much for keeping details to herself. She found that she couldn’t get more words out. She was rather out of breath from all the walking and the added pain to her chest wasn’t doing her any favors.

“It must be hard to talk about.”

Lumine did not reply.

“I’ve had some issues with my own family. Namely, with my father, though I don’t hold it against—” Childe cut himself off to turn his face into his other arm, coughing. He groaned. “Against him,” he finished after some effort.

“You sound like you’re recovering well,” Lumine said.

Childe sighed at her sarcasm. “I think I may need to rest, unfortunately. The Foul Legacy Transformation does a number, but any more walking might seal the deal. You…” He paused to catch his breath. “You wouldn’t want that, now, would you?”

The two stopped walking and, to Lumine’s disgraceful disappointment, unlinked arms. Tartaglia took to the ravine floor sitting against the stone wall with another round of groaning and coughing. Lumine wandered a bit further down the ravine towards a purplish glow she had not noticed before. She noticed that, without the Harbinger’s physical contact, she was rather cold. Quite cold, in fact; it must be becoming colder the further down the Chasm they travelled.

“I think I see something ahead,” she said, becoming more sure of the dim light.

“Don’t go too far, girlie,” came Childe’s voice, which she ignored.

After a few more steps, the ravine took a slight corner. The sight as she turned it was baffling.

The ravine opened up into a large area—at first glance, Lumine thought it was the overworld. But from the sky of stone hung an upside down city of dark, corrupted ruin of towers. Below them was a sea of black mud and violet decay. Lumine found herself lost in the immense view, as fire to her eyes after so long in the dark.

She finally stirred herself, walking back. It had only been a few paces, but the darkness was again blinding and she held her hands out in front of her.

“Um… Childe?” She was unable to eliminate the quiver from her voice. “I can’t see where you are.”

“Right here, comrade.” His voice came from only a few feet away, and she faced its presumed source. “I thought you might not come back, haha…”

A pang of guilt seared through her chest. He was incredibly weakened right now, and she was wandering off into the dark with no regard for either of their safety. She felt her hands touch the ravine wall, her eyes slowly adjusting to what faded shapes they could distinguish in the darkness. Already—yes, already, she was starting to acclimatize to it. It may never be a home to her as it seemed to be for Childe, but she felt its numbing blackness become like an inviting host to her guesthood.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” she managed to get out, sinking down the wall to the ground. She expected to hear a sassy remark. She expected him to leave a bad taste in her mouth, just because she could muster her own venom.

But instead, he just said, “I’m glad you didn’t wander off after all.”

He sounded terribly weak, and she couldn’t even bear to gloat in it. His voice was hoarse, just like it had been after their duel in the Golden House. But it was also the same as it had been after he had destroyed all those ruin guards for Teucer in the factory, protecting his sibling with all the strength he had. Lumine could recall the moment she looked not on him as an enemy or rival, but as a hero to his younger brother. As a man who looked past himself. As a man who understood family.

Again, her chest clenched as she thought of Aether. What had become of Aether?

Childe knew just how to get under her skin. Sometimes it was through snark or politics, but other times—unforgivable times, it was through showing humanity she did not believe could exist past those eyes of his. 

Lumine could see them now. Despite the darkness she could not miss him peering over at her. He was not as far away as she’d guessed. She knew not where the light with which they shone was coming from. Dull blue irises sent her into a wordless daze.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. “You okay?”

She did not heed this inquiry, only… staring. She was so exhausted from walking. From walking and hating and… and worrying. She was tired. So… tired.

“It wasn’t anything important around the corner, was it?”

She thought to herself that perhaps it was. But exhaustion was overtaking her and she was fading. Her body felt wet and cold and numb all over. She was submerged in a black sea and all she could see were his blue, blue eyes.

“Comrade!”

But Childe was now far away. Her mind was blank. She did not dream, or think, or breathe.

Lumine knew no more.

—

Lumine opened her eyes and saw no more light than had been behind her lids. However, she became acutely conscious of the fact that she was leaning against a certain Harbinger’s warm, broad chest.

She opened her mouth, which felt dry, and pushed her voice out. “Childe?”

He gasped. “You’re awake! Thank goodness.”

“I’m…” She tried to move but her entire body felt like cement. She was immobile, and thus her head remained against Tartaglia’s chest. “What… happened?”

“You had sat right in a patch of that mud. I hadn’t realized. You started to daze off and then you slumped over. I had to drag you out and… pray that you would wake up.”

Lumine was afraid.

What lived in the dark would never be her friend. She might not have lived had she been alone. However, she was becoming aware that Childe was what lived in the dark. He had barely been affected by the mud; he’d hardly noticed it until it had begun to influence her. He was exhausted, instead, by his Delusion which preyed and fed on his soul.

Whatever soul her had left, that was.

As feeling slowly returned to the rest of her body, she realized that the pressure on her side was from his arm wrapped around her back, his hand on her waist holding her close.

She hesitated, and then asked him, “Could you move your hand?”

Childe reluctantly did as she asked, apologizing. He took a deep, shuddering breath.

“You haven’t been crying, have you?” she asked.

“Of—Of course not,” he denied. “And—if I was, what’s the matter with that? Can’t a guy shed a tear or two?”

“I don’t see why you would. Unless you somehow think you won’t be able to survive without me, which we both know isn’t true.”

“No, it’s just…”

He trailed off, and she waited for him to continue. When he did not, she sat up as much as she could so that she could look into his eyes. They were still there, somehow visible in the pitch black of the ravine. Hooded, a bit, squinting back at her as if he was studying her.

“It’s just,” she mimicked.

When he spoke, the words came quickly, as if he was trying to get it out all at once. “The darkness has taken many things from me, and I’m not quite prepared to lose another. That’s all, comrade. That’s all.”

Lumine thought on this for several seconds, soaking in the weight of it. She chose to respond indirectly, feeling the dissonance of her hatred for him with the empathy she was overcome with. “I wasn’t yours to begin with. You have nothing to lose.”

“That’s what you say, my friend.”

Lumine could still feel the remaining warmth in her clothes from where he had been holding her. She pressed her eyes shut and forced herself to forget how it caused her heart to race. But she could also tell, now, that there was a physical weight over her shoulders: Childe’s jacket. She only knew it by the weight and excessive size. She thought about its smell. Like a warm cabin on a winter's day. Like the wind on a lake. A cradle of excitement.

Now, disliking the direction of the conversation, she chose to change the subject. “So,” she said. She cleared her throat. “What the hell are we gonna do now?”

“Well, comrade, I hate to say it, but I think we should call it a day. The Chasm has not been kind to us. I think we’ve gotten up again one too many times.”

“Never,” Lumine posed. She was, perhaps, disagreeing just to disagree. She knew she would not be getting back up again for quite a few hours, at the least.

“At least a bit of sleep—of true sleep, not near-death from some Chasm goo—should do the both of us some good.”

“I got plenty of sleep when we set up camp before,” Lumine protested. She was lying. She had gotten less than an hour at the most.

“Sure, and so did I.” And she became aware that maybe, just maybe, he was lying too. “Still, I can’t do anything in this state, and you… well, just try to get up and then argue with me, alright?”

She didn’t have to try. She knew she wouldn’t be able get to her feet, and so she finally yielded. “Fine. You win. We’ll explore ahead later.” She pulled on Childe’s jacket so that it better covered her shoulders, wondering whether she should thank him for saving her life. Again. “Sounds like something Paimon would say,” she muttered, leaning her head against the ravine wall.

“That pesky fairy.”

“Yeah.” Lumine thought again of Aether, though she could not tell why. Nor could she tell what made her say what she said next. “By the way… about my twin…” She allowed a sigh. “I didn’t fight with him. Much, anyways. We were separated by other forces out of our control.” A pause. “He’s what I’m looking for. He’s why I’m travelling all over Teyvat. He’s the only family I have.”

“So there’s another mysterious traveller from another world somewhere else in this one, huh?” came Childe’s response.

“Yeah,” she said, “I guess so.”

“Is he as cute as you?”

Lumine tested the function of her arm and then, satisfied that it was mobile, jabbed it as hard as he could into where she guessed his ribs were. His yelp of pained surprise was her welcome reward.

“Ah, o-ow, what’d I do?”

“Try listening to me make a weird comment about one of your siblings, and then ask me that again.”

He laughed, and then coughed, then paused to catch his breath. “Alright, alright, I get it. I thought the problem would be that I called you cute, but apparently that part doesn’t bother you, hmm?”

Lumine huffed. “How about you stop talking?”

“Make me.”

“I can elbow you again.”

“I don’t mind.” 

She elbowed him again and he let out another cry.

“But I don’t see how either of us are going to sleep if you break my ribs,” he complained.

“I don’t see how that would be my problem.”

“Might as well leave me to die!”

“Mmm,” Lumine hummed, considering this option. “No, I’d rather be able to see the defeat in your face when I crush your ribs and snap your neck.”

He only laughed again. “I look forward to it,” he sighed, sounding genuinely delighted, and neither of them spoke for some time after that. The silence was warmer and sweeter than it had been before.

Lumine did not think she would be able to fall asleep next to Childe. A killer, she reminded herself. He was a Fatuus. He was one of the Harbingers, for crying out loud. A selfish, power-hungry, bloodthirsty man’s coat was draped over her shoulders; an eccedentesiast killer’s scarf was round her neck, each for no reason but to keep her warm. She decided that she must not and could not fall asleep in what logically could only be the open jaw of a lion. 

However, once again, she felt her body defiantly prove her wrong. 

author’s note. wowie! the plot thickens! is that lumine... growing attached? stay tuned to find out what happens next! p.s. sorry for the late post. i was in the middle of nowhere for a week.

please consider leaving some thoughts so far. it would be greatly appreciated.

— table of contents / next chapter

➳ GENSHIN MASTERLIST

#a chasmic mistake. #chilumi #favoniuslibrary #genshin fanfic #tartaglia fluff #genshin series #childe fic #genshin impact lumine #tartaglia x lumine #childe x lumine #tartaglia x traveler #ajax x lumine #genshin x traveler #childe #lumine #tartaglia #slay i am so not coming back to tumblr yet but i must finish posting this series

[fictionadventurer]

If I'm going to keep mentioning Lucretia Garfield's heartbreaking letter after James cheated on her during their engagement, maybe I should just share it.

*

Cleveland, September 1, 1857

My dear James:

Yes, mine forever, though a destiny cruel and relentless separate us as far as the east is from the west. Whatever our earthly relations may be, we are one and belong to each other, and in view of this truth I no longer fear to reveal to you every thought. I know that my motives will be understood however freely I may speak. The fear which has so long sealed my lips that James might construe any expression of my real thoughts and feelings into a design on my part to gain my own selfish ends no longer haunts me. I believe that you trust me now, and I know that in my own heart has been awakened that confidence which brought such sweet peace to my spirit two years ago. James, do you know that it was the withdrawal of that confidence in me which pressed home to this grieving heart the keenest dagger! How many many times I have felt that if you would only love me just enough to come and tell me all, I could endure to know the worst; but to see you shrink away from me as though you could not endure my presence, and hide from me the truth, was almost more than I could bear. May Heaven spare me from ever living again such hours of bitter anguish. Pardon me for alluding to them. It is the last time. They have told upon my heart the lesson I trust they were sent to teach. Their mission has been fulfilled; let them pass unnoticed no longer. I would much rather rest with you beside Erie's moonlit waters and feel my heart throbbing against you own, while I talk to you tonight. But I will not wait until it may be so blessed before saying some things so long unsaid.

James, the bright ideal of life and love which are here held up before us was indeed very beautiful; but was it the true one? Can the human heart hear the tests to which it may be submitted by it? I had hoped it might. Indeed, I had almost, yes, entirely trusted that a love as pure and deep as I believed ours to have been could never never meet with anything that could possibly turn it from its course or prove ever the slightest interruption. I was telling Mother this and remarked that it might be an error. Her reply was that if there was no danger of any such thing happening if two loving hearts could find only in each other all that would satisfy, there would have been no necessity for the marriage vow.

May be it is so. If there could be no temptation, no danger of turning to another, why register in Heaven the vow of constancy? I blame you for nothing, for whatever you may have done I believe your heart's faithfulness; and allowed the generous and gushing affection of your warm impulsive nature to go out in all its fullness toward another than the one to whom you had pledged your all. All innocently as this was done, I can not blame you, and could the effect which all the past of our intimacy might have over you be blotted out, I would say to you this hour, go and marry Rebecca; and hereafter trust not your heart so far. Rebecca is a good and noble girl, in many aspects far my superior but she loves you no better than Crete. If, however, you love her better, if she can satisfy the wants of your nature better, and more than all, if you can with her become a good and noble man in spite of all the Past, Crete can give you up. And pronounce upon your Love a sister's blessing. You told me that judgment prompted you to another course, that to feel yourself an honourable, generous man you must take me alone to your heart. Let feeling dictate whatever it might. I have thought I could never allow that, that I could never be your wife unless every feeling of your heart seconded the decisions of reason. Perhaps I asked too much, but, James, to be an unloved wife, O Heavens, I could not endure it. I am not exacting. It would excite no spirit of jealousy in my heart to know that my husband admired and even loved a thousand others, and know that they possessed traits superior to mine, but I do feel it to be my right to claim this sole assurance, that I am his choice; and that however much he may find to be more admired in others he will not turn away from me to them, but rather seek to correct my faults, and make me like them. I want to find in my husband that strength of love, which can steel itself against every attraction that might come between us, which will hold me nearest his heart in spite of every impulse which an ardent nature might feel. Now, James, I freely pardon any error your ignorance of the human heart may have led you to commit, but I do hope whatever course you may take that hereafter you will be more guarded for your own happiness if nothing more. It pains me to see you so miserable as you are at times, and sometimes I feel that I could dare almost anything, even for the hope of making you happy again. But could I--could I become your wife and see that best hope fail! Oh no, no, no. If it would not fail, may God help me to know it. Then I will make the trial. James, write to me very soon. Keep nothing back that is in your heart

[Update about daily life that I'll spare you from]

Yours most lovingly,

Crete

#history is awesome #presidential talk #probably no one else cares about this but allow me my indulgence #writing this out led to various insights #first: how many drafts do you think this letter required? this is very coherent for an emotional letter #very structured phrasing #i doubt you write a letter like this all in one shot #also: i've solved the mystery of why they married when they both had such doubts #this letter is the letter of someone who wants the relationship to continue because they've got too much time invested #honor and all that #and maybe these nerds were a bit overeducated #spending so much time thinking about their relationship and not feeling #cuz of course feeling can go too far #but being too practical and dutiful brings its own heartbreak #and their relationship is exhibit a #at least until things get worked out #oh but also i gotta mention #i'm obsessed with 'yes *mine*' as an opening #kind of a power move

[richmond-rex]

Hi, im super confused about something and I wondered if you could clarify - did Henry VII actually consider marrying Catherine of Aragon himself after Arthur's death, or is that just a rumor that's been blown up out of proportion?

Hi! No, we don't have any evidence that Henry VII actually considered it himself. The only thing we have is Isabella's reaction to the rumour in April 1503:

The Doctor has also written to us concerning the marriage of the King of England with the Princess of Wales, our daughter, saying that it is spoken of in England. But as this would be a very evil thing,—one never before seen, and the mere mention of which offends the ears,—we would not for anything in the world that it should take place. Therefore, if anything be said to you about it, speak of it as a thing not to be endured. You must likewise say very decidedly that on no account would we allow it, or even hear it mentioned, in order that by these means the King of England may lose all hope of bringing it to pass, if he have any. For, the conclusion of the betrothal of the Princess, our daughter, with the Prince of Wales, his son, would be rendered impossible if he were to nourish any such idea. If you should find that the King of England wishes to marry, we will tell you, at the end of this letter, the match which we think would be suitable for him.

Nothing was actually said to the Spanish ambassador—it was a rumour 'spoken of in England', but we don't know by whom: the courtiers, the common people, the king's council, the merchants? We don't know who, but definitely it wasn't Henry VII himself who said it, because Isabella is neither sure 'if he [has] any' intentions towards that marriage, nor if he 'wishes to marry' at all. She preemptively suggests Joanna of Naples, Ferdinand's niece, as a bride.

By this marriage the alliance and friendship subsisting between the two parties would, at any rate, be strengthened. On this account, if you find that the King of England wishes to marry, act in the way and manner which may seem best to you, being careful of the honour of both parties.

Again, she didn't even know if he wished to remarry. In January 1504, almost a year after Elizabeth of York's death, Isabella and Ferdinand once again proposed a match with Ferdinand's niece:

Finally, you are acquainted with what we wrote to you, of late, respecting what you were to say to the King of England about the Queen of Naples, the young lady our niece, but you have not made any reply. In any case speak to him in the best way you can, and endeavour to get to know, completely, the wishes of the King of England.

Half a year later, in June 1504, they still insisted on the idea this time enticing him by way of money:

As to the affair of the match between the Queen of Naples, our niece, and the King of England, we have already written to you what we think should be done. Moreover, although the King of England be a widower, and [has] children, 2,000 dobloons will be given her as a marriage portion. Inform the King of England of this in the way that seems best to you, and learn clearly and decidedly his wishes in regard to it.

It would be at the end of October 1504 that Henry would reply favourably to the idea, asking for a portrait to be sent to him.

The King, moreover, begged me to write to your Highnesses, telling you he had not yet decided to take to himself a wife. Yet, for the sake of your Highnesses, he was inclined to do it.

The ambassador thinks that Henry really wanted the marriage and was simply playing coy, which, then as now, is up to speculation:

Your Highnesses may verily believe that he really wishes the marriage; only it is the habit of this monarch to conduct all his affairs with much gravity and deliberation.

The ambassador urgently asked for a portrait to be made and sent to England (a portrait that would be eventually denied, for whatever reason), and says that Henry really wanted the marriage, 'judging by what I have observed in him, and the pleasure with which he spoke of it' but still shows apprehension at Henry mentioning Margaret of Austria who had also recently become a widow. Henry VII 'spoke much of the Duchess [Margaret of Austria] and her widowhood. But that will in no wise hinder the marriage [with Joanna of Naples], God willing.'

I think there's more than a bit of optimism in the ambasador's exhortation, not only because Margaret of Austria was clearly better ($$$) than Joanna of Naples as a bride, but because later in his letter the ambassador freely admits that he could not trust Henry's words on another issue: 'You may likewise remember that although he gave me many assurances, I did not, and would not, believe him at all, and that I had looked upon it merely as talk.'

Tl;dr: We have no evidence that Henry VII ever considered marrying Catherine of Aragon, or that he ever considered remarrying soon after Elizabeth of York's death at all. On the contrary, from April 1503 to October 1504 he dodged Ferdinand and Isabella's marriage suggestions, going so far as to tell Ferdinand that 'he had not yet decided to take to himself a wife' in late 1504. That would be a rather stupid thing to say if, a year and a half earlier, he had asked the hand of Ferdinand's daughter in marriage. It is certainly interesting how he didn't reply to their suggestion until Margaret of Austria re-entered the marriage market—was he playing with Ferdinand, raising the stakes for a better dowry or alliance treaty? Much to think about! 

It is kind of frustrating how every biography of Catherine of Aragon takes that rumour as real evidence that Henry VII wanted to marry his daughter-in-law and was only dissuaded by Isabella of Castile, for sure.

#ask #anon #henry vii #catherine of aragon

[cafecitowriter]

FIC WRITER INTERVIEW

Tagged by @laviejaguardia thank you amiguita!!

tagging if they desire: @captainjimothycarter @behindthelabels @teaandatale

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 

26

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 

589,675 😳

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Should the Stars Align w 745

Aim for the Heart w 328

Flowers w 307

The Untamed w 264

My 6 Foot Romance w 193

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I definitely aim to! I've gotten worse at responding lately because I've been going through a lot lately but comments bring me so much joy and I love discussing my works with others so even if it's been a year I love to respond!

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I don't really do angsty/unhappy endings but I did write this drabble that is very angsty. For one of my longer fics, I would say in silent screams and wildest dreams just because while technically it ends well, I didn't perfectly tie things up.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Like all of them lol, but maybe Cherry on Top just because that one is a fluff fest from start to finish.

7. Do you write crossovers?

I've never written one and currently don't have the inclination to do so, but I'm definitely open to it if the muse ever strikes!

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Like no outright hate, but some that have been filled with corrections on either grammar, spelling or that have told me my characterization was "incorrect" but like whatever.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Like Lina said on hers, whenever the mood strikes and the kind depends on the mood lol

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of (and I hope it stays that way)

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have not but I'm totally open to it!

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

The thing is, I have many long burning ships and the fire has never gone out on them. What If...? has really re-lit the Steggy flame, and the stuff I write is mostly all about them so they're always way up there, but I must give an honourable mention to The Doctor/Rose and also Percabeth is currently making a STRONG comeback at the moment.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Okay. So there's this Steggy fic. I started it years ago and I only have a few scenes written but it's definitely going to be a multi-chapter fic. The whole premise is that Steve is the only child of Queen Sarah, and Peggy is the prince's personal bodyguard. Problem is, Steve can't inherit the throne because it's a matriarchal line. When Queen Sarah has a health scare, she decides to take matters into her own hands and find her son a suitable wife and future queen so that her son can still maintain the throne in the event of her early passing. However, Peggy's not a fan of the options presented - for more than just the obvious reasons.

15. What are your writing strengths?

I think I'm good at characterization and getting their voices/dialogue pretty good!

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Honestly I have to work really hard on my plots to make sure they're tight because very often there are holes in them or they don't tie up/flow as smoothly as much as I'd like. It's why I usually prefer to write the whole thing at once and then post it, because that way I can catch things/find my way out of the corners I tend to write myself into.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I enjoy it! I use multiple languages in my life. Though the characters I normally write for don't really use multiple languages so it's something I would like to find a way to incorporate more, maybe in other fandoms/works eventually.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Unposted Star Wars (Han/Leia), posted the MCU (Steggy)

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

I'm not burning for it at the moment (I'm struggling to get much writing done recently for my main fandom) but I do think at one point I'd like to write for Doctor Who, since I love reading for Nine/Rose & Ten (or Tentoo)/Rose it but there's some things I haven't found that I would like to write.

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I do like all of my fics a lot, but I would say my top three in no particular order are:

Get In, Get Out (I'm very proud of my writing in this one)

The Untamed (I left a lot open as to what happens leading up to the very last scene of the fic and I want to keep exploring it sometime)

My Daughter's Keeper (I just adore this universe)

#about me #fic writer interview

[chynandri]

New Start GO! 🌸 Epilogue 1

End of February. The day of ‘Harenohi Live’

Hajime: ‘Harenohi Live’ is finally going to begin.

It’s all thanks to Anzu-senpai negotiating and communicating with the company too. It was because of your hard work that we could even plan such a wonderful Live.

To be honest, I didn't expect to hold a Live on such a luxurious stage. Won't this go over the budget?

Waah, why are you apologizing!? Anzu-senpai didn’t do anything wrong~?

? Our school trip got cut short during ‘High and Low’, so you wanted to properly apologize�� is that it? Speaking of that, both the Star Festival and SS all quickly passed by in a blur.

But I don’t blame you though. Because no matter what, it all became valuable experiences that I wouldn’t normally be able to have. What’s done is done. We should keep looking forward, right~ ♪

Tomoya: Right. We’re always under your care Anzu-senpai! It should be us who’s apologizing!

Mitsuru: Don’t apologize Nee-chan! I had a lot of fun during that school trip~⭐️

Nazuna: Anzu put her all into ‘Harenohi Live’, so we already felt your sincere feelings.

As long as we honour her dedication and make the concert a great success then it’ll be all good. Am I right, everyone?

Hajime and Tomoya: Right!

Mitsuru: Alright~ Let’s do our best in the Live! The audience is waiting, let’s zoom to the stage~!

Nazuna: ‘Hello audience members! Thank you so much for coming to see our Live today!’

Hajime: ‘’Harenohi Live’ is a joint Live, and our partner is the menswear company mentioned in the ‘New Start GO!’ broadcast a few days ago.’

Mitsuru: ‘For people who haven’t seen the tv program, it’s been posted online. Please don’t forget to watch it~!’

Tomoya: ‘Why did we hold a joint Live with this company? The reason for this and our struggles as newcomers in the company are all included in the program. Please remember to watch it!’

Nazuna: ‘….. Alright, the promotion segment ends here.’

Hajime: ‘Next we’ll perform our new song for everyone right away.

This song is dedicated to us challenging a new environment - and at the same time, it’s dedicated to everyone too.

‘Harenohi Sugar Wave’. Let’s take our first step together with these lyrics accompanying the start of a new life. ♪~♪~♪’

Mitsuru: (Ahaha, Lives make me so happy!)

(Working at a company was a fresh experience, and it made people happy. But in the end I like Lives more!)

(The big stage, the sparkling lights! Surrounded by countless lights like this, I feel like my own brilliance can fill this entire venue!)

(I believe that everyone’s new life will definitely bring out their own brilliance. Relax and just follow our footsteps….⭐️)

Nazuna: (Ahaha, Mitsuru-chin’s simple and bright personality is extraordinarily dazzling on this revolving stage~♪)

(This stage looks more luxurious the more you look at it. If it were us two years ago I wouldn’t dare to imagine we’d perform at such scale, would we?)

(I owe it all to Ra*bits moving forward together with me.)

(Not to mention Anzu producing for us, and all the behind-the-scenes staff. And all our fans coming to our Live-)

(Every single person is full of anticipation for our Live.)

(Is all this too conventional to call a miracle? But right now, when I think about how we won’t ever have to perform in an empty stage again, I almost burst into tears.)

(Everyone must be feeling the same way, right?)

Tomoya: (Nii~chan. There was a moment where you glanced at us just now, right? Did the lyrics of our new song make you think about things?)

(I also feel like the past just happened recently, I can still see it so clearly in front of my eyes.)

(The theme of ‘a new life’ - it reminds me of when we just started out as a unit. But thinking of it now, it was all a beautiful memory.)

(All four of us have grown, and the fact that we can be in a position to stand in solidarity with people entering their new life is amazing.)

(Even if we bump into more difficulties, if we keep on persevering, maybe good things will happen - I hope everyone can see us like this!)

Hajime: (Are you watching, Mr. New Guy?)

(And past me from my dream-)

(‘Here and now’, this is idol Hajime Shino’s present.)

(Even though being too serious made me confused about a lot of things…. like my performance style, presentation, personality, place in the idol world, and more.)

(But like when I heard Nii~chan sing for the first time, that moment when my heart felt like it was longing to be an idol-)

(I also need to do my utmost to become an idol that will motivate others to take their first step.)

(Taking in the impressions of those around me, like ‘cute’, ‘good kid’, and so on. And for the sake of becoming an idol with a style uniquely my own - I’ll keep moving forward step by step……)

(Slowly getting used to the new, nerve-wracking but exciting environments of ES and Rhyth Lin - and steadily moving forward.)

(So. To everyone who’s watching us - please enjoy it to the end.)

(I hope our singing voices can accompany you on life’s brand new starts.)

==>

Masterpost

#enstars #ra*bits #hajime shino #nazuna nito #mitsuru tenma #tomoya mashiro #chyna translates too #another beautiful chapter T_T #ONE MORE TO GOOOOO