#idiots in love (earth kingdom edition)

[minhosimthings]

Dances Avec Les Etoiles ft. Heeseung

Synopsis: God how boring is love? For Lee Heeseung, it was perhaps the most boring thing in this rotten world. But for his parents, it meant buisness. And buisness meant getting Heeseung married off to a princess from another kingdom. And when the princess shares a peculiar interest, Heeseung starts to believe in Cupid again.

Pairings: Prince!Heeseung × Princess!fem!reader

Warnings: Brief smut scene in the beginning (not with reader), SMUT MINORS DNI (with reader), fingering, edging, orgasm control, french kissing hehe, dom!Heeseung × kinda dom!reader, mentions of food, sexual tension, hee is kind of a pervert, suggestive at places, fluff, swearing, angst, did I mention sexual tension, enemies to lovers (kind of), arranged marriage, playboi heeseung × playgirl!reader, reader wants adventure and Heeseung is the adventure

A/N: I have been writing and editing this for so long now and it's only part 1! Thank you for being patient with me and I promise to release the second part which has more smut in it very soon! @candewlsy your daddy papi has arrived

Part 1 || Part 2 || The wedding

The French Quotes Series Masterlist

Lee Heeseung was a man of logic.

Which left no room for the poetry in him, although he did say that he enjoyed it a lot.

He was a prince, a ruler soon to ascend the golden throne of Tarnow. Stupid name, he had always thought, it sounded like a wheelbarrow carrying a bunch of tar pieces.

But he had often heard that the poets never allowed someone to go on with their life just like that. What kind of poets would they be if they did that?

And so he had to be betrothed. With a star studded ring on his finger, an imitation of a smile on his face, and a bride by his arm. And a ceremony where there would be flowers, and dancing.

Dancing!

Heeseung had a clandestine love for dancing. The curve of arms and fingers, the movement of hips, the ballet of the feet twirling to create an invisible picture on the ground. And yet, no one knew of this rendezvous of his. Well, almost no one.

"Hyung are you really sure you're alright?" Heeseung's daydream was interrupted by a honey sweet voice from above him. "Get down from the tree, idiot." Another voice, strong as iron reprimanded him.

Sim Jake and Park Jay.

Two of Heeseung's band of best friends.

They had grown up together, due to their parents being close friends, what with the never ending borders they shared between the kingdoms. And he could always count on them to give him advice, whether it be of a bastard's or of a sage's.

"Unless you want to break your arm again, get down from that dumb tree." Jay scolded the brown haired boy, who was, at the moment, hanging upside down from a willow tree, "But you need another reason to visit your best friend don't you loverboy?" Jay added with a cheeky smile.

"As if you have more love in your life" Jake shot back, promptly jumping down from the branches onto the grass with a soft thump.

"Would you two stop bickering and help me out of my current predicament?" Heeseung snapped, letting out a sigh and leaning against the bark of the willow. He had always liked this particular tree. He remembered his mother's hands carefully handling the roots and planting the tiny sapling into the wet mud, talking about how the Duchess' daughter had ran off with some ragamuffin. It was a majestic tree now, like how the poets described the trees of the Gods to be like. He had liked that poem a lot, the one about trees and princesses and first kisses under first snows.

"You're going to get married to a completely random princess, big deal." Jay rolled his eyes, settling comfortably onto the freshly mowed grass. He was often the more mature one out of all of them.

"Where on earth are Sunghoon and Sunoo?" Heeseung questioned, checking his pocket watch. He shook his head, his other two friends didn't exactly know the meaning of being on time.

"Probably kissing themselves." Jake smirked, flicking a leaf at Jay to annoy him, which worked when Jay got up from his sleeping position with a glare smeared on his face and slapped Jake's head.

"Just pretend you have affection towards her and all that and it'll be over in a minute." Jay adviced wisely, looking over at Heeseung's drooping figure. "I wish it was that easy." Heeseung sighed, "I don't want to get married, what if she's snobbery?"

"Hyung don't get poetic." Jay said sternly, moving his head to face Heeseung, "What is even love in these ages? And I am sure she'll be wonderful enough to make you some heirs."

"What's her name again?" Jake questioned, looking at the tree with his tongue stuck out, probably contemplating whether he should climb it again or not, "I hear she's of the far East."

"Princess Y/N of the Kingdom of Witchelm." Heeseung scoffed, "Ooh maybe they have witches!"

"Absolutely not." Jay sighed with a tiring expression.

"Whatever, I'm hoping to pay Priscilla a visit today." Heeseung pushed his hair out of his face.

"Does she love you yet?" Jake ashed with a cheeky grin.

"God I hope not." Heeseung shuddered, "She's just got a good mouth and a nice pussy for me to take. See you later boys."

"Fuck I needed this." Heeseung sighed laying back. The girl looked up at him as she placed her hand onto his cock, her other hand resting on his thigh. She licked the underside of it slowly back up, circling her tongue around the head.

"Fuck has your mouth gotten prettier since last time?" Heeseung chuckled, looking at the girl.

"Shut up and let me do my work." She responded, "You know this is the last time right?"

Heeseung scoffed and placed his hands on her head. "I know."

The girl took the head into her mouth, causing him to jolt. He patted her head which soon turned into him gripping her hair when she went back down again, now bobbing her head up and down. Making sure she reached all the way to the base, Heeseung helped by pushing Priscilla down further.

“Keep doing that thats a good girl” he stuttered out. The hand that was on his thigh reached down to massage his balls, lightly squeezing.

Would his new bride be good at giving him what he wants? Heeseung didn't know anything about her. Nor did he care really. She's probably the regular Mary Jane, a dull lifeless, smiling body, without balance in anything. He wished and prayed fervently that some sort of ballerina took her place instead.

Maybe that'd finally make him happy.

The reflection of Heeseung's mirror stared back at him, not noticing the utter beauty of his eyes. He never cared much for his handsome features, much preferring when people complemented how light he was on his feet.

But it was shameful for his parents.

Dancing? For a crown Prince? Preposterous!

It would have been outrageous if the kingdom found out that their prince preferred dancing over decrees. It wasn't that his mother and father didn't encourage his dancing, they loved seeing their son do what he loved. But to be a prince, a ruler, was to keep a reputation, and that couldn't be spoilt by something their son loved doing.

Heeseung sighed, taking a deep breath and counting his steps, every slow movement bringing him his happiness back inch by inch. Would his bride like dancing?, he wondered, that would be a pleasant thing. Atleast one thing in common with her.

His thoughts wandered carelessly as his feet did, sliding across the floor effortlessly, a gentle sway of the arm here and there, the ballet of a sawn without his mate.

He would be betrothed by tomorrow.

A fateful tomorrow, he hoped.

"And now we introduce, Princess Y/N of the Witchelm Kingdom!"

The man had a ridiculously nasally voice in Heeseung's opinion. Maybe they should replace him with someone who doesn't sound much like a parrot.

"Heeseung stand up straight." Heeseung's mother snapped at him from his right shoulder. Silently grumbling, he obeyed and adjusted his drooping figure along with the drowsy expression on his face. He would have rather ate a carrot than do this right now. The sound of bells and trumpets and what not, and all the ridiculously maroon stained curtains irritated him far too much. The sun was broiling hot, and there was not even an inch of a cloud in the sky. And his nose was rather itchy as well. Perhaps he should ask Jake for that rum again...

"Welcome to Tarnow, Princess." His father's formal voice broke Heeseung out of his train of thoughts, and as he snapped back to his senses, he realised the presence of a figure standing before him. Not caring to lift his eyes to look at the figure, he quickly bowed.

"How was the journey, my dear?" His mother asked in a saccharine sweet voice. She only ever used them with babies, Jay and extra important guests.

"Well the carriage certainly did not like the hefty rocks, but it was pleasant." Heeseung thought he had heard an angel speak for a moment, "Your kingdom is magnificent, Your Majesties." The figure in front of Heeseung curtsied, and that's when he caught a whiff of her perfume.

It was intoxicating, as if it was pulling his closer.

His eyes flickered up, to take a peek at the woman. She was clad in deep shades of maroon with gold trimmings illuminating her figure perfectly. Was this his bride to be?

"Prince Heeseung." You threw a curtsy to him, noticing the way his fawn like eyes were staring at you. Maybe the rumours were right. All the princes of Paradoxica were scoundrels who lounged after women.

"Princess Y/N." Heeseung finally bowed back, and you took note of the fact that his eyes stayed to the ground, not lingering over your figure as most usually did. Maybe he did have a tinge of respect in him.

"Well why wait here in this heat? Shall we lunch inside?" The Queen said in a joviant manner, extending her hand to you, which you took gratefully and stepped inside the castle walls, finally feeling at peace.

You were completely unaware of the pair of deer eyes following you.

Heeseung's first thought upon seeing you was the way you wore yourself. He had often learnt that the best of dancers always moved differently, which was always evident whenever he'd attend balls. The truest dancers would always walk as if they owned the very earth they walked on. Heeseung always felt that they had clouds for shoes.

And the way you walked, the way you held your shoulders, the way you each step echoed with the sound of the air, there was no way you couldn't have been a dancer like him.

But you were a princess, he reminded himself, his soon to be Queen. Dancing was to be put to the side for some time.

Or so he thought.

The luncheon had went quite well in your opinion. Apart from the fact that the King and Queen would not stop talking about the proposal ceremony and the wedding, and their son smirking into his peas whenever his parents came upon the topic of grandchildren, it had gone by in a breeze.

You were happy that Heeseung hadn't talked to you. You were far too tired to have any 'getting to know each other' conversations. He seemed a bit monotonous to you, at first glance atleast. You had always learnt never to judge a book by it's cover. But sometimes advice was made to be ignored, so you simply went on with your day, not caring about what kind of a person Heeseung was.

The rumours were enough for you to summarise his persona anyway. The people of Witchelm talked about him as if he was a splendid rose, one everyone wanted to take a look at. Kind, courageous, handsome, generous, blah blah blah. You would rather have married a fish if it was described as more interesting than him. Although the rumour that he really 'got around' in terms of pleasure had interested you. If that had been true, maybe you did like him. Atleast he would be understanding to the fact that had lied to everyone that you were still a virgin.

Tarnow had been a luxuriant kingdom, known to everyone as the first kingdom formed in all of Paradoxica, the oldest one, it spoke quite well through the aching castle walls when you were exploring the southern wing.

It was in a word, beautiful, with the fading architecture and all the women clad in luxurious silver, dancing their hearts out on the street. How you wished ever so fervently that you could join them.

Dancing was your life ever since you took your first steps. Witchelm was renowned for dancing, for ballet, ballroom and everything in between. It was a pity that you hadn't heard anything about the hobbies of the Prince. Perhaps he preferred dancing too. That would be a pleasant surprise, you thought, as you stepped into your chambers, where all your luggage had been arranged neatly.

"I think I can take over from now on." You curtsied to the girl who had led you over to the chambers. She bowed back and was about to leave when you thought to ask her the question that had been lingering in your mind for long.

"Is there a ballroom here?" The girl turned back abruptly at your question. She had hair as dark as coal and eyes even darker. A pretty sight.

"Oh yes, your Highness." She smiled at you, "We have the biggest ballroom in all of Paradoxica in fact. Most of the King's balls and state dances are held here."

"Then, there must be a place where they practice their dances is there not?"

The girl chuckled at your question and clicked her feet together.

"There is a humongous room in the western part of the castle that's basically empty space for dancing. But the Crown Prince spends most of his time there at night, so we aren't allowed to go there much. I can show you the way if you want."

"The western wing." You sat on the bed with a soft thump, "I can find my route don't worry. Thank you for everything."

The crown prince and dancing..... Peculiar. Very peculiar, you thought as you lay on the bed. You were thankful for finally getting out of the heavy purple gown, and putting on some actually comfortable robes. Although you had begged your mother to let you wear your favourite lavender shades, your mother has refused and put you in the darkest and most sweltering maroon gown. It was safe to say that you were a panting dog by the time you got out of the gown.

Picking up your quill and paper, you smoothed out the creases as you thought about what to write to your best friend back home. Gaeul was the kind of person to find out everything about someone before loving them, no matter what methods she used, so it wouldn't be a problem if you wrote 'i think the Prince likes dancing because a girl told me an extremely insignificant detail' in the letter to be sent to her.

Dipping your quill into the ink pot, you were about to start your letter when-

Knock knock knock

The door tapped thrice. It was safe to say that you were confused. Lunch was just five hours ago and it wasn't even dinner time yet, the sun hadn't set even though the sky had turned a deep purple.

Donning a clock over your robes, you stepped out of the comfortable silks of the bed and strode over to the magnificent, carved door. Tugging on the handle, the door made a creaking noise at it opened, making you cringe at the sound. You caught a figure lingering at the door. The same girl was there, the one who had led you here earlier today.

"Oh hello there." You said, opening the door to its full length, "What is the matter?"

The girl shuffled her feet before your eyes fell on her hands. A tiny black box.

"Someone left this in my chambers with a note attached to it your Highness." She said, "It gave the instruction to give it to you."

You looked at the box with uncertainty before snapping your eyes up to the girl. You took the box from her, your finger gently brushing against hers.

"What is your name?" You questioned, realising that you hadn't asked for it before. "Giselle, Your Highness." She answered, still looking at the ground.

"Thank you Giselle. You may go now." You shot her a smile which she returned meekly and scampered off.

Closing the door behind you, you eyed the box with uncertainty. What if it was some poison which wafted into the air as soon as you opened it? What if there was a lizard inside? You really did hate those dumb creatures. Thousands of thoughts flooded your mind as you looked at the box. You were reminded of your father's words to stop reading so many books with plots of bloodshed and mystery. As if you'd ever stop.

Caressing the box with your hand, you noticed how fine of a quality it had, it couldn't have been sent by any ordinary person. You lifted the lid of the box with hesitation running through your veins, only to find inside......a necklace?

A dainty pearl necklace lay inside the box, along with a tiny note, which you did not notice at first. You were far too captivated by the shimmering necklace. Pearls were a rare occurence in Witchelm, with it being a landlocked kingdom. But Tarnow, you had heard, had a vast coastline, so pearls were easily found.

You pondered upon who it could have been sent by. A secret admirer perhaps? The thought did excite you. But who on earth would send a box like this in these times?

As your thoughts ran wild through a forest again, your hand slightly tilted the box, and the note fell out. You bent down to pick it up and immediately took note of the fact that it was paper which was used for royal decrees. A secret admirer from the ministry?

Unfortunately your mind was disappointed as you ran your eyes through the note.

Wear it for me princess. Love, Heeseung.

Of course. A secret admirer, what were you even thinking? No one would have the courage to give the princess of a foreign country, a pearl necklace.

Rolling your eyes, you settled the box and the necklace into a drawer and put the tiny note into a separate one. The prince had a handsome signature, far better than your scribbles anyway.

The western wing had never seemed like a more interesting place

"I hope you find the chambers a comfortable place my dear?" The Queen's voice rang in your ear. God the atmosphere of the dining table made your hands sweaty.

The little conversations you had with the King and Queen weren't enough conversation for you. It was too.....formal, to regal. You wanted fun, but you knew you wouldn't get that. Not until tonight atleast.

Your plan to sneak out into the western wing was extremely flawed but you had not a care in the world. So what if there would be hundreds of people standing guard? You were quick on your feet, a dancer's gift.

You had silently observed Heeseung throughout the dining session. He seemed quiet, all the talkative ones do at first glance. You noticed the way his foot tapped away every now and then without a care and his fingers drummed his fork in hand. You hadn't a single idea if it was on purpose or not. You had read in the book Gaeul once loaned you that artists, like painters or dancers, can never keep their body still. They always have to be doing something with their hands or feet. So either Heeseung was secretly a painter, or he was a dancer. The former seemed to have more possibilities but it could always be the latter considering Giselle's words about the western wing.

Only one way to find out.

Your skin was filled with goosebumps as you walked down the chilly corridor. You were greatly surprised that there weren't many guards, perhaps Tarnow cared less about security.

You shouldn't doing this, this is dangerous, said a voice in your mind, but did you ever listen to it? No, no you did not.

The western wing was easy to locate, what with the huge painting of a woman pointing her finger towards a large corridor, with the words "Western wing" engraved onto the painting. It was darker than the other parts of the castle, maybe it was a secret wing shut off to everyone else except the Prince. There weren't many doors here either, which caused you to let out a sigh of relief. The dancing room would be easier to find.

And it indeed was, as you now stood in front of a huge oak door, the only one for miles on end. You hoped fervently that it wouldn't creak like the door to your chambers. And to your relief, it thankfully didn't, and the spectacle inside made you let out a gasp.

The prince.

So he wasn't a painter after all.

He was a dancer!

A plain show of beauty, you thought, the Prince was. He looked ordinary at first glance, but now, as your eyes trailed his moving figure, his feet gracefully gliding across the floor, hitting each moment to the melodies of the song he was humming, you'd have thought it was Apollo's incarnate himself. You were mesmerized by him, by his every movement, he was gentler than a swan with his fingers, his robe moving in sync as if he had been commanding it.

My my, he looked like a groom in need of a bride, you thought. You didn't know whether it was past midnight yet, even as the clock struck itself and made a loud noise, you were too distracted by the dancing prince. You would have loved to watch him for a bit more, if not for-

CREAK!

Stupid door!

Heeseung's head whipped around to the door as his humming and dancing stopped abruptly. "Who's there?" He cried, clutching his hand to his sword belt, "Come out!"

There was only one idea in your mind at that moment.

Run.

You hoped fervently the next day that the bags under your eyes would be put off by everyone as exhaustion from the long journey. You hoped that no one thought "Oh the princess obviously must have sneaked out to the dance room and ogled the prince!" Although the possibility of that happening was very low.

You slyly avoided the Queen's questions about your sleep by asking her about when the royal potrait of the groom and bride to be would be painted. And she responded with much happiness that it was to be this afternoon!

This afternoon. With the prince. Wasn't that a joy?

Your schedule was much packed that day, which was disappointing since you had wanted to sneak out to see the main ballroom which Giselle had informed you was in the Northern wing. First, you had to get into your gown for the portrait, which would easily take the entire afternoon. Then the actual portrait session would arrive and God knows how much time a simple layer of paint will take to dry.

"Do you paint my darling?" The Queen asked. "Yes." You answered, knowing damn well you couldn't draw a line if you wanted to. Well a lie in a lie is a truth wasn't it?

Afternoon arrived and so did the sweat drops on your forehead. Damn this gown, you thought as you dragged the heavy on the floor. You decided the first thing you'd do after becoming Queen is ban whatever material this is.

Approaching the door where the Queen had directed you to, you took the handle in hand and tapped it thrice to let whoever was inside know that you had arrived. "Come in." A familiar princely voice answered.

Oh great.

"My Lord." You sunk into a curtsey, not letting your eyes meet Heeseung's. Had he always been this tall and handsome or were you dreaming?

"Heeseung, princess, call me Heeseung." He wore pride quite well in his cunning smirk, you thought, as you looked at him quintessentially.

"Then you may call me by my name as well." You replied, glancing behind him to see an easel propped up, "Where is the painter?"

"Oh him? He's always late." Heeseung leaned back against the table behind him, "So princess, enjoying the palace's attractions?"

"Stop calling me that." You said, rolling your eyes out of annoyance, "And if the attraction is you, then no I'm not." He made the word seem like an enchanting melody, the handsome bastard.

"Would you prefer darling?" He smirked, pushing the stray strands of hair out of his face again. He looked like a siren, pulling you into an ocean you wanted to escape from, but didn't know how.

"Say, my darling," he leaned forward, looking at you with darkened eyes, "You're still a virgin aren't you?"

"Why, do you want to corrupt me?" You scoffed, settling yourself down on the loveseat, "Well bad luck, I'm not."

Heeseung looked taken aback for a moment, his eyes widened and he blinked a few times, but he composed himself quickly.

"Ah we have a little liar do we?" He chuckled lowly, his eyes still looking you up and down, "So you're a bad girl aren't you?"

"I don't care Lee." You crossed your arms, "This is just a marriage for politics, there's no way in hell you are going to magically make me fall in love with you, like in the books."

"You read romance?" Heeseung cocked his head to the side, "Well there's a thing we have in common."

The door to the room burst open before you could get another retort out and you breathed a sigh of relief as the painter rushed in with his assistants and started running about arranging everything.

You were even more thankful when you had to sit down for the portrait, far away from Heeseung. Although a weird pose, you supposed the painter would magically make something out of it.

Heeseung was more interesting that you had previously thought. Atleast he didn't treat you with the insufferable respect most princes did. He was....cocky, rude, daring. A rather sweet taste on your tongue.

Oh how you couldn't wait to sneak out to the west wing again.

You remembered to bring a shawl this time, draping it around your shoulders so that the cold, carved rock of the palace wouldn't let your skin break. You cursed yourself for almost knocking over a piece of what looked like driftwood sitting atop a table, willing aways it's time. The kingdom of Tarnow really had its unusual traditions.

The conversation you had with Heeseung today ran in your mind over and over again and again. You liked the taste of him, the way he stood, the way he held himself. And the way he spoke. You were going to have to come up with new retorts everyday. Well that's more interesting than suffering a life of 'i love you' or 'i will die for you'.

But for now, peering at him through the slightly ajar door was more than enough. Oh how he danced, the movements he made, an astral ballet in the air. He looked at peace, that cocky and confident demeanor was no more, it was replaced, instead by calm and cool. Your eyes tried not to linger to his waist and arms, how his shirt pressed tightly against his muscles. The sinful thought of having a touch of them echoed through your mind. The curve of his body fascinated you, oh he looked as pretty as an angel. Perhaps there is more to Heeseung than you thought.

"She's interesting, too Interesting." Heeseung drawled, as he chewed on his quill tip. To his right sat Park Sunghoon, another crown prince, who had inherited his kingdom without marriage and without everything Heeseung despised. At the moment, he was the only one who could provide Heeseung some comfort.

"Interesting as in she didn't fawn over you or interesting as in she's no a virgin?"

"Both." Heeseung answered leaning back in his chair, "And she's such a mystery, god I want to know more about her."

"There is a thing called conversation you know." A third voice called from across the room. A red haired man was sitting atop the table, casually willing away at grapes.

Kim Sunoo. The youngest crown prince.

"Oh really?" Heeseung smirked, "I though conversation wasn't mandatory or what was it you said last time Sunoo? 'Conversation is only for the loveless?'."

"You know who I meant it for." Sunoo rolled his eyes and hopped off the table promptly, "Anyway the Princess of Witchelm seemed a lovely character. I had a brief incursion with her out in the garden, and she's.....interesting."

"That's what hyung said too." Sunghoon popped a grape in his mouth from the table, clenching his face at the sour taste, "Just run up to her and you know, ask her what she likes."

"Great advice, Sunghoon."

"As if you can do better."

The gardens of Tarnow were a place you reveled in. The freshly mown grass, the sweet scent of daffodils, and the sight of bees almost everywhere elated you. And most importantly, the willow tree.

The grandiose tree reminded you of someone who knew what they were worth, like a Queen who knows exactly what she wants. That's who you wanted to be. A Queen who rebelled, headstrong like your mother always told you to be. And you would fill the streets with dance, music and laughter. Maybe even prompt Heeseung to show off his moves....

"And to what do I owe this pleasure?"

Death would have been more pleasurable than to endure Heeseung right now, as his voice disrupted your peace and quiet.

"You owe your hand in marriage apparently." You stared straight at him, not daring to break eye contact, which was hard considering how menacing Heeseung's stare was.

"Admiring the willow eh princess?" Heeseung plopped down next to you, landing on the grass with a soft thump, "You know, I planted this when I was an adorable child."

"Adorable?" You scoffed, "More like a fiend." Heeseung chuckled at your statement, turning his head to look out towards the landscape.

"I planted most of the trees in this garden." He said, staring ahead with unwavering affection in his eyes at all the greenery, "They've grown a lot since then, my mother says that planting them at a young age allows them to grow with you." The love in his tone made you want to coo at him, but you composed yourself, remembering what kind of a person he was.

"Was that too cheesey?" Heeseung smiled, turning his eyes to yours. "Just a little." You responded, not having the heart to break the moment.

The silence that followed was a dire one, but it was peaceful. Heeseung and you sat in it as if you were fluent, letting the breeze whip your hair about, and the grass seep into your veins. You were so immersed in the butterfly landing on the daffodil that you didn't even notice the leaves sticking to your hair.

"Your hair looks like a bird's nest right now, princess." You heard Heeseung laugh as you turned your head towards him. "Excuse me?" You said, pulling your hand up to stroke your hair, being horrified when you pulled pieces of leaves sticking to it.

"Oh for fuck's sake." You mumbled under your breath, "Ah damn this, I'm going back to the chambers. Good day, Heeseung."

"With a nest in your hair?" Heeseung raised a cocky brow, "Princess, be logical. No one is going to respect a future Queen who looks like she's walked out of a jungle." Heeseung's words were mean but true, "You know I can just remove them, if you ask kindly with that pretty mouth of yours."

You had never wanted to slam his head into a wall more than now. But your reputation also mattered. You were torn between the two choices; Heeseung or risking your reputation?

"Fine." You sat back down on the ground, "Take them out."

"Nicer, princess. Add a pretty please too."

Oh he was on thin ice. You rolled your eyes and grumbled, "Could you please take these leaves out of my hair? Pretty please?"

The scent of Heeseung's neck pressed to your nose as he leaned over to remove the leaves carefully. He touched your hair rather gently, as if you were a fragile doll, which surprised you. Your hand kept lingering at his stomach, holding itself back from touching his muscles.

"There." Heeseung leant back, "All pretty princess again." "Thanks." You muttered, making your way to get up.

"Uh uh uh princess, we aren't done yet." Heeseung pulled you back down, making you snatch your hand away from him, "I want to strike a deal with you."

That night as you watched Heeseung dance gracefully on the stone floor, you wondered how this was the same person you had met in the morning. The same person who had made you a wretched deal, now danced under soft candlelight, unaware of his future bride watching him through clandestine corners.

"Meet me in my chambers tomorrow, and I'll think about not spilling to everyone, your little 'pureness' secret."

Fuck the world. That was your first thought as you woke up the next day, got dressed, had breakfast, had a conversation with the Queen, and made your way down to Heeseung's chambers.

For what purpose must this have been done? For what purpose did you have to be betrothed to a man like him?

"Fine day, isn't it princess?" Heeseung smirked at you from behind his desk. Papers and scrolls were strewn all over the desk, along with ink pots and a couple of what seemed to be drying paintings. A few more were hung up on the wall.

"Is this why your mother asked me if I paint?" You traced your finger over a dried painting of a daffodil. Still life, boring as it may be, still caught your eye. Heeseung smiled to himself.

"She asks everyone that, thinks her grandchildren will be some sort of prodigies." "Grandchildren?" You looked up from the painting to Heeseung's smug face, "We aren't even close to friends and she wants grandchildren?"

"Rule of Law princess, there's an entire book about it." Heeseung leaned back, spreading his legs a bit further, god that shirt stuck to his muscles well.

"What am I doing here anyway?" You scoffed, sitting back on the chair facing him, "You want me to do your assignments or something?"

"Assignments, actually." Before you could blink a huge stack of papers lay in front of you, all stamped with decrees, "And in return you'll get some get sex and your secret not being spilt."

"Good sex?" You laughed haughty, "I highly doubt that. Especially from you."

"You think I can't fuck you better than your lovers?" Heeseung raised a brow at you, leaning back against his desk. "No I don't think so." You simply replied, reaching out a hand to get one of the decrees, but it was caught by Heeseung and before you could even flinch, he had you pressed against the desk.

"Want to test that theory?"

Your retort stuck in your throat when you engaged in a searing kiss and your lips met aimlessly—a real mess of tongues and teeth. Heeseung licked a strip across your teeth and thrust his tongue deeper, exploring the inside of your mouth like a sacred temple with only one chance to visit. Heeseung opened his mouth and gasped, lingering with a few more short, honeyed kisses between his panting breaths and your muffled moans. You scolded yourself for even getting a sound out of yourself at Heeseung's touch.

Heeseung's hand moved up your thigh, and you pressed your mouth to his throat, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.

"That's not the ideal place to leave a mark princess." Heeseung glared at you, to which you merely shrugged your shoulders. So what if Heeseung had a few hickeys on display to the kingdom?

Heeseung's hand travels upto your back, easily removing the dainty dress you had on. You silently thanked Giselle for giving you a dress instead of a gown today.

“is this what you wanted?” you slid your panties to the side, as Heeseung was about to reach further down your slide. He wouldn't have admitted it but he almost drooled at the sight of you. Taking a second to admire you, his voice echoes through your body, “I wonder how many others can have you like this.”

"Not many." You keep your eyes on him, "none of them fuck me as well as I want them to."

You lean forward a bit, making sure he gets a fantastic view of your cleavage. You decide to push the boundaries a bit further, your voice dropping to a sultry tone, fingers playfully tracing the edge of your bra's strap.

Heeseung's exhales a shaky breath, "you're playing with fire, y'know that?" His voice is low, it only spurs the warning and longing lingering inside you.

The world narrows down to the heat of his touch, the electrifying sensation of his fingers on your skin. You feel the rapid beat of his heart against your chest, mirroring your own anticipation. Heeseung's eyes, lock onto yours, a silent agreement passing between you.

Your nails scrape against his scalp and you squeak in shock as Heeseung's hips surge upwards, forcing his hard cock against you. The unabashed moan he lets slip is sinful and it’s all you want to hear for the rest of your life. You can’t stop the urge building up inside you, you’re not even certain you can stop moving your hips even if you wanted to.

His fingers catch the waistband of your bottoms. Heeseung traces your clit over the fabric feeling the warm, wet patch you’re leaving in them and then he teasingly slips a finger underneath, swiping two fingers along your slit, thumb, and index finger opening your pussy to his gaze. He presses a finger inside of you, slowly stretching out your tight hole. You groan, and his eyes roll back at the way your walls stretch around him. You rock harder against him, fucking yourself into his finger and wrapping your arms around his neck again. you just want to feel him against you.

"Fuck you're a tight one." Heeseung smirks into the crook of your neck, taking in your delicious scent, "Is this good enough for you princess?"

His half-lidded eyes look up at you as you contort on top of him, feeling overstimulated, with a single finger. He coos, his other hand sweeping over the back of your head sweetly, pushing back stray sweaty hairs. He nudges your nose with his, hand on the back of your neck, and tries to meet your eye. The squelch as his finger fucks into you, fast and deep, is the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.

You can feel the tightening of your stomach, your intestines begging for air as your mind wants nothing more but to break free. The sweet edge of release feels better than ever with Heeseung than anyone else you've ever done this with. Fuck was he good. Just as you felt his finger sweep across your cunt one more time, and hot liquid come upto your cervix-

"Heeseung!" You gasped, feeling the painful feeling of having him pull his finger away from you. His smirking face added the fuel to the fire of your anger, as he slowly bent away from you, collapsing onto a chair and spreading his legs far. God did you want yourself propped on that thigh.

"I already told you princess." Heeseung's smug voice infuriated you, "Sex as a reward remember? And you haven't done anything so no reward. Simple logic."

"fuck you" "When princess?"

You were thankful Heeseung didn't make you work all night, you had time to admire his dancing again. He seemed so different when he was alone, so much more gentler, and it only made you hate him more. Why all the cocky behaviour when he was surrounded by people? You liked this softer side of him. You wished that he would get the courage to show that side to the world. Maybe in due time as all things come.

The rest of the days went the same. Rise and shine in the morning, greet Giselle as she gave you your bath, breakfast and burrowings, rush off to Heeseung in his chambers, do your 'assigments' whilst glaring at Heeseung, who glared back, get the desk a bit messier than it had been, and then sneak off to the western wing at late night to watch Heeseung. It was a bit redundant, but you liked this. Maybe it was the fact that Heeseung was someone who made you cum properly (although you wouldn't admit it) or maybe it was the fact that, from the past few days, he had started opening up to your more.

Ignoring the fact that your time with each other consisted of making angry retorts, you noticed that now, you knew more about Heeseung than before. His friends, family, ancient history, his hobbies everything, from A to Z was in your memory now. And you had to admit that you liked knowing more about him.

His sunlit eyes everyday as they silently perked up at the sight of you, the way his mouth dropped to give you the daily retort along with a tiny compliment too, the way his smirks now turned into smiles, and the way he leant nonchalantly against the great willow, when you'd go out into the garden for a little rest. Was this the love the poets described?

"Good news princess." Heeseung strode into his chambers as you stretched your neck from sitting in the chair all day completing a decree, "We're having a ball."

Collapsing on his bed with a thump, Heeseung groaned as he stretched out his aching limbs. Jay really did always do a number on him in practice.

"A ball?" You questioned, rising from your seat, walking over to the bed and climbing on, "For us?" Heeseung looked at you and nodded. "It's supposed to be a pre-pre-pre wedding ball, according to mother dearest."

"Will there be dancing?" You asked excitedly. You hadn't danced in so long that your feet longed to be in some tap shoes and a big flowy gown again.

"Yep, and guess what?" Heeseung smiled at you, "We're going to dance together."

"Oh I am an amazing dancer." You bragged, raising your chin high, "So it's fine if I outshine you right?"

"Please, I am much better at dancing." Heeseung sat up, facing you, "It's fine princess, they'll notice you at the wedding if they don't at the ball."

"Dance for me then." You gave him a cheeky smile. Would he agree? This is what you had been wanting for a long time. "No." Heeseung merely said, checking his bitten nails.

"Are you that horrible of a dancer?" You chuckled. But before you had time to laugh more, a fluffy pillow landed straight on your face with force. Heeseung's smile had never been wider.

"Don't do that you bastard!" You cried, picking up a pillow and hitting his shoulder with it to which he laughed raucously. "Or what?" He laughed again, hitting you with the pillow repeatedly. Stray feathers let loose from the pillows but you had not a care in the world as Heeseung chased you around the room with the pillow clutched in his hand. This had been the most fun you've had in ages.

Young love? So refreshing for a narrator isn't it?

You looked stunning. Your reflection, clad in soft hues of your favourite colour stared back at you, as your eyes ran up and down your body, hugged tightly by the fabric.

The ball had came sooner than you had anticipated, maybe it was the fact that you were so excited for it.

You'd be dancing your heart out tonight. With Heeseung. How you had longed to match his movements for so long, and now you finally had the chance.

"How do I look?" You meekly asked Giselle, who looked like a jewel in her own gown. "Like a true Queen, my lady." She giggled, dipping into a tiny curtsy.

"Shall we move then?"

Heeseung hadn't been too excited about the ball. He had seen too many of them to be entertained by any. And plus, there wasn't a proper lady to dance with either. Where were you? His thoughts, which were running aloof, came to a halt as his eyes landed on someone descending from the staircase.

Was that....you?

Indeed it was, as he blinked his eyes a few times to get into his mind the fact that you, his bride to be, were walking down from the staircase, looking like someone he's always loved for centuries. That, he did, but of course he wouldn't tell you that. Your snarky remarks from time to time, the way you smiled at his retorts and the way you remained a complete mystery to him, no matter how much he found out about you. Love, love, love, was what Jay had told him.

"My lord." You dipped into a curtsey in front of Heeseung. God he smelled exactly like the willow, enchanting and sweetly poisoning. You tried your hardest to avert your eyes from the tightly hugging fabric around his arms and his belt too. You fervently wanted your hands to be tied to it.

"You look pretty, princess." Heeseung winked at you, wrapping an arm at your waist, but not before giving you a look of access, "May we?" He motioned towards the dance floor, where a few women and men had their arms wrapped around each other lovingly. Would Heeseung and you ever be like this, you thought, as he led you over to the marble floor. You would have liked that, you'd have liked that a lot.

You could feel the eyes on you as Heeseung took your hands to his lips and pressed a small peck there. "Ignore them." He smiled up at you, "Time to show off your dancing, princess."

Gulping down the breath you've had in for a long time, you gasped in silence as one of Heeseung's arms pressed against your waist in a position for your waltz. You took your breath in accordance with Heeseung as the violins whipped their bows and the grandiose music began.

Dance was often described as the art of the soul, you'd never seen a living example of it, until now, as your entire body and mind moved in synchronisation with Heeseung. It felt as if dancing on a cloud you've longed to be on, when you were swaying with him. His grip on yours, his eyes tracing yours, and his demeanor being the one of the swan you had spied on in the western wing, it enchanted you, pulled you in to the whirlpool of Heeseung himself. You could have stayed like this forever, swaying in a gown with Heeseung at your start.

Heeseung was intoxicated as well, it was sweet venom lacing his veins, as the clandestine rendezvous of your movements got him to the highest of highs, one that even the most addicted couldn't have reached.

"Enjoying the view?" You cocked a brow at him, noticing the way he was staring at you. You were thankful that a lot of other people had joined the dance and you weren't the only ones dancing now.

"Funny, I was about to ask the same thing." He smirked at you, his eyes tilting down to your cleavage.

"You've seen more than just my cleavage and it's still driving you crazy isn't it?" You raised your chin, "Pathetic, Heeseung."

"Pathetic is it princess?" Heeseung's voice dropped to a low, as he leant over to your ear, his breath hitting your cold skin, whispering words that made your breath drop.

"More pathetic than the western wing?"

To be continued.....

Taglist: @amazzwon @heeseungshim @yunabi436 @kvmariii @sacrificeatmeup send an ask to be tagged

#Heeseung #lee heeseung #heeseung smut #lee heeseung smut #heeseung hard hours #heeseung hard thoughts #lee heeseung hard hours #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enha hard thoughts #enha smut #enhypen smut imagines #enhypen smut #enhypen smut reactions #heeseung fluff #heeseung angst #enha royal au #enhypen royal au #heeseung royal au #heeseung fic #lee heeseung fics #enhypen fics #heeseung oneshots #bye bye now

[oneatlatime]

The Deserter

How is this the first time anyone's had the bright idea to try disguises?

Sokka's sarcasm coming dangerously close to breaking the fourth wall here. Some pretty strong lampshading.

(edit: going through this just before posting, I realised this line is pretty much a sarcastic thesis statement for this episode, maybe this season.)

This is too cute. This episode both Appa and Momo understand english.

Saviour of the World, everybody.

There must have been a Gang goes to the Mall episode I missed where Sokka and Katara bought their stealth cloaks.

Say what you like about the Fire Nation, they do have gorgeous architecture.

Katara perfecting non-verbal burns with the mask-switching.

Flaming Fire Flakes have the honour of filling this episode's Beat Up Sokka quota.

This is actually less violent than the actual Punch and Judy. Poor puppeteer has to sew a new earth kingdom soldier for every performance.

Dovebending!

I know Aang is characterised as fun and fun-loving, but maybe don't take off your disguise in the middle of a group of your enemies? Is this going to devolve into an "Aang is stupid" episode? Because we just did that last episode.

And now he's sulking because he missed the chance to be outed in front of the whole crowd? Aang has no brain this episode.

Of course the fire nation would have fireworks. I find it interesting that the more artistic methods of bending have survived a century of war. Unless there's a combat style where soldiers bend dragons at the enemy, you'd think that bending for fun and entertainment would have been condemned by now as useless to the advancement of the fire nation.

Raise your hand if you didn't see this coming.

I have very little patience for Idiot Aang, especially when his idiocy revolves around needing to be the centre of attention.

Appa just murdered those guys.

How did Sokka figure out that Chey was a fire nation soldier just from looking at his face? Everyone in this world so far is borderline faceblind, what with the number of times that our main three have passed unnoticed. And yet Sokka gets one look at this Chey guy and clocks him as fire nation? How? Chey doesn't have a different accent, or a giant F on his face, or even a helpful identifying Zuko scar.

"Some say he's mad. But he's not. He's enlightened." Regardless of what he is, this is not how you ought to sell him.

Why doesn't anyone ever listen to Sokka? He's always right when it counts: they did get clocked at the fire nation festival, the fortune teller was a crook, Jet was untrustworthy, Katara was going to get them in trouble with the pirates. Hasn't anyone in-universe noticed the pattern yet?

So Chey is a cross between a fanboy and that one awkward kid that no one likes, and Aang is this episode's idiot. But who are the hat guys? Are they like the third through ninth deserters from the fire nation? They don't seem anything like the people at the festival, so they aren't the locals.

Zhao the asshole is back. An idiot and an asshole this episode. I suspect this episode won't be a favourite.

Ever so fed up with having your good advice ignored that you involuntarily plank?

I have no idea if this deserter guy (NOT going to try to spell that one phonetically) actually has the ability to tell what disciplines someone knows by the way they walk, or if that's Chey's fanboyish tendencies coming out. But if it's true, being able to tell someone's abilities and skill level at a glance would be an incredible advantage in a fight. No wonder they promoted the guy a bunch.

And so rather than do the sensible thing as Sokka suggests and leave, Aang leans even harder into his idiot tendencies. Sigh. You should absolutely go talk to the firebender who just told you to fuck off by proxy. What could go wrong?

I'm grasping about 40% of this fish speech. On the other hand, I'm getting the discipline speech 100%. And agreeing with it too. This episode's whole opening vignette was about how Aang lacks self-discipline. Setting aside the fact that going to the festival was a bad idea in the first place, they could have attended unnoticed if Aang had mastery over himself. This deserter's got Aang clocked.

Do you get the feeling that this deserter's negative experiences with fire are perhaps colouring his view a little? He does make a good point though: mess up with airbending and someone has a bad hair day. Mess up with waterbending and someone gets wet. Mess up with earthbending and someone gets squished. Mess up with firebending and someone gets roasted. There's a bit of a jump in the seriousness of the mistakes between air/water and earth/fire. And we already saw Aang mis-bend water and send all their supplies down the river, so it's not like the deserter is wrong to think Aang's not ready. Plus, of all the elements, only fire does its own thing when you're not looking. I bet the very first thing firebenders learn is not how to make fire, but how to control/snuff out an external fire.

Love this visual. Roku's statement is true, which once again calls into question how much of Aang is a unique person as opposed to a conglomeration of previous avatars. But the deserter's right here - Aang doesn't have the self-discipline to learn fire right now. I don't know if learning water and earth first would get him that discipline, but it would certainly buy him a few more months of maturing.

If I had to be an army deserter on the run from an evil imperial power, this is certainly the place I'd choose to hide. So pretty.

Sokka isn't an oaf!

This is going to go so badly. This deserter guy is 100% right to start with the basics, but Aang is the opposite of a willing student. He's happy to learn, if they do it his way, which is jump straight to flashy fire and burn everybody's eyebrows off. Not to say the deserter is a good teacher - he's certainly not suited to Aang. But people strong armed by spirits generally don't bring their A game.

It seems to me like bending fire is almost more about leashing fire than using it.

Wasting his time? Didn't it take Aang his whole life so far to master airbending? And he thinks spending a couple of hours on the basics of firebending is wasting his time?

Dear Avatar writers: My comment about Aang burning everybody's eyebrows off was supposed to be facetious. Could you dial down Aang's idiocy this episode just a little bit please? Feeling really sorry for the deserter here.

This deserter's got sighing down pat. I get the impression that he's had decades of dealing with hotheaded idiot students.

Zhao was his student? That's a neat way of doing combined backstory and parallel story in the present. I thought it was a flashback but it's actually what's currently going on. Neat.

"Learn restraint or risk destroying everything you love." Good lesson even outside of a bending context.

This golden forest throughout this episode is absolutely gorgeous. Although it seems to be stuck in eternal sunset (not complaining).

I was right! Firebending lesson number one isn't making fire, it's leashing fire.

"But I'm ready to do so much more" Hell no you aren't. The fact that you say that with a straight face after A DAY of lessons proves you aren't.

You mean you failed the lesson. Congrats.

Hey look. Exactly what the deserter said would happen is happening. And so an innocent pays the price for Aang's hubris. Ain't that always the way?

Hell yeah Sokka. You tell him.

Here's a good lesson for Aang to learn, unfortunately at the expense of Katara's arms: sometimes sorry doesn't cut it. Since Katara's arms are injured, is she currently unable to bend? With the amount that her self-image is built around her bending, this is going to double suck.

Katara can auto-bend?!? Instinctively? That was lucky.

Hey deserter guy: while your insight into waterbending healing and the firebending mindset is certainly valuable to Katara and the audience, maybe a recently-burned teenage girl is not the best target for your talk therapy?

Master indeed. That's got to be the single most impressive firebending move yet. Look at that. That's one guy!

See Aang? If only you squatted a little lower, you'd be able to pull this off.

Aang still hasn't learned his lesson. Impulsively firebending should have taught him to be less impulsive. Instead it teaches him to make dramatic blanket prohibitions on firebending and throw himself head first at Zhao with no plan.

If Zhao is an admiral, and the deserter's former student, does that settle Chey's admiral/general debate on the side of admiral? Or do fire nation military branches do cross training?

Now it's Zhao having the hubris problems. Does he really think that 8 guys, only 4 (?) of whom are benders, can take down Mr. Firewall?

The way Zhao's voice actor delivers the line "until I got bored" very nearly redeemed his whole character. Suddenly not just an asshole, but a human too. Given how abrasive the deserter is, I'm almost sympathetic.

Who wins in the fight of Aang's hubris v. Zhao's hubris?

This is a very cool move. It seems that Aang only has hubris problems when he's trying to bend fire - he's back to his usual self when he bends air. Can the element have that much of an effect on the mindset?

I'm really liking this delightfully one-sided fight. Aang really redeeming himself for his early-episode idiocy.

This should not work on a well-adjusted adult.

"I don't know why, but I thought you'd be better than Zuko." Tragically, Aang has no idea how savage that line is.

"Jeong Jeong said you had no restraint" says the kid who, up until this scene demanded it, had no restraint. A stinger of a line that is undermined in context.

Literally.

How many outfits did Aang pack? Because air nomad tailors aren't exactly thick in the air these days.

Was that a whole camp of deserters? And they've all gone into hiding?

Getting the first fishhook out with a second fishhook: when logic goes too far.

Final Thoughts

Zhao really screwed up this time. He and his men are going to have to walk back to their ship.

Roku really screwed up this time. Katara wouldn't have been burned if Roku didn't intimidate the deserter into teaching Aang.

Chey really screwed up this time. If he hadn't brought Aang back to his camp, he'd still have a settlement to live in.

Aang really screwed up this time. If he hadn't insisted on both attending the festival and outing himself at it, he never would have led Zhao to the deserters' camp.

Just a thought: maybe spiritually bullying a scarred veteran into teaching combat basics is a bad idea?

I really want to like this episode. Beautiful setting. What Sokka and Katara stuff there is, is great. Appa and Momo even get a funny joke, and Appa gets to murder some people. And most importantly, the deserter is RIGHT. THE WHOLE TIME. And he was right to insist on not teaching Aang. Roku really blew it. Everything the deserter knew would happen if he taught Aang did happen, because he knows firebending, and he knows how students like Aang approach it (and let's be honest - he's not the right person to teach Aang anything). Now Aang's thrown up a mental block around firebending that will have to be surmounted no matter what he says he will or won't do. At least Katara uncovered a new skill.

I have not seen Apocalypse Now, but this is Apocalypse Now, right? In which case I know why Aang doesn't work for me this episode: he's in the wrong genre. This episode is actually quite serious. Chey may call the deserter enlightened, but Chey's an idiot. What the deserter is, is broken. He's another victim of the fire nation. He's also easily the most skilled firebender we've seen so far, with deep insight into at least part of the nature of his element (I say part because the episode itself suggests that his view is overly negative by having him point out the sun as a source of fire, which isn't inherently destructive - it just is). The deserter is a person you absolutely should listen to, saying things Aang absolutely should hear, albeit he says them rather harshly. But Aang is in peak kid's cartoon mode this episode, and the deserter (and most other characters actually) are in Vietnam-era War is Hell movie mode. It makes Aang jarring throughout, to the point that I was mad at him for most of the episode.

That being said, Aang almost (almost) completely redeemed himself in that last brilliant fight. 'Hoisted by his own petard' has got to be one of my top three favourite narrative devices, and that Zuko dig was the icing on the cake. As I said above, it's a goddamn tragedy that Aang doesn't have the necessary context to know how much that dig hit home. Then again, Sokka and Katara would probably appreciate it more than Aang. I feel like they're more appreciative of petty vindictiveness.

Speaking of Sokka, great to see the continuity from last episode's lesson: ride or die for Aang until it's family on the line. Sokka will gladly take Aang to the north pole until Aang steps between him and his father, at which point he's on his own. Sokka will gladly take Aang to the north pole until he hurts Katara, at which point Sokka will rub his face in the dirt. And, honestly? At that point of the episode, Aang's flaky hubristic 12 year old idiot side was so annoying to me that I was rooting for Sokka in that fight.

We know Aang's a bit of a softie, but someone who didn't know that just saw Sokka face down the Avatar for the sake of his sister. Takes courage.

It was also nice to see Sokka and Katara more united than usual in their opinions. While Katara was willing to give things a chance, neither of them was all that enthusiastic about anything that happened this episode. Usually Katara blindly follows Aang and blindly opposes her brother, so it was nice to see her more (not fully) aligned with both sense and Sokka.

It's not really touched on, but Aang really screwed things up for the various deserters. They weren't exactly comfortable where they were, but they seemed settled, safe, and provided for. Now they're presumably on the run. Oops.

If I could excise Aang from all but the last fight of this episode, it would be a serious contender for my favourite so far. But as I cannot excise him, this one is thoroughly middle of the pack. This episode had some serious stuff to say about the horrors of war from a perspective I defy you to find in any other kids' show, if only Aang would sit down and shut up for a minute.

#atla #avatar: the last airbender #the deserter #avatar the last airbender

[words4bloghere]

ATLA Ships

Because there’s an endless deluge of ship hate going on, I wanted to break up the BS with some lighthearted fun. You know, what fandom is SUPPOSED to be.

So here is my honest, positive take on most ATLA ships:

Aang

x Katara: High school sweethearts, they are each other’s biggest cheerleader, have not called each other by their actual first name since week 2 of dating and now they’ve been married for five years, still thinks they can give dating advice to their friends.

x Sokka: Idiots in love, half of the people they know think they’re just super close, the other half think they’re dating but won’t ask in case they’re somehow wrong, got married for the tax benefits and never got divorced, both still routinely commit tax fraud

x Toph: Sometimes their teasing of each other gets so intense it’s like foreplay, Aang is still shocked someone calls him out because he is obviously a pure cinnamon roll who never does anything wrong????, Toph is still confused that Aang can compliment her and he’s not lying?????, basically summed up by no one can call my bae an idiot except ME

x Suki: late game relationship, neither were looking for a relationship but they ended up working long hours together on a mission kinda thing, Suki keeps him grounded and brings the common sense of a BAMF non-Bender woman, while Aang gets to be the introduction into all the cool crap he knows about the world, tons of fluff, very calm pair

x Zuko: Started with a “hey you know it’d be funny if the Avatar and the Fire Lord kissed” joke, Zuko immediately overthinks and Aang is clueless, miscommunication ABOUNDS, when they ultimately get together Zuko gets the confidence boost of being with the Avatar, no one can say anything because suddenly the Avatar is there wondering why his boyfriend is pissed off.

x Azula: Everyone worries about toxic co-dependency at first because Aang was the healer in the relationship, he just ends up learning the most about her and falls in love with her, he becomes the first person she trusts, Azula actually pushes him away because she doesn’t want to use him, they end up together after Azula goes on an apology tour, Aang waits for her patiently, full of YEARNING

x Ty Lee: this ship embodies the energy of that meme where the girl is smiling with the burning house in the background, no one knows exactly what’s going on but something ends up on fire, they are not allowed entry into fifteen Earth Kingdom cities, Ty Lee proposes and they are engaged for a good amount of time, but end up eloping at the Earth Kingdom equivalent of Las Vegas, they throw the best parties, the couple who never have children but are the wealthy cool aunt and uncle that stir up the holidays

x Mai: EVERYONE HAS QUESTIONS, started off with a bet that Aang couldn’t make her laugh, they ended up in bed together, definitely a secret relationship, full of “we shouldn’t be doing this” kinda messages, both think it’s just the one time, end up together because they bond over the weirdest esoteric novel series, neither of their personalities change over the years, the type of couple that can go to separate events because they trust each other

x Jet: bonded over the mutual ex girlfriend, Aang gets sick of the fame when he’s older and runs around Kyoshi style with Jet’s crowd, bad choices and bad boys make their pulse race, probably not gonna end up together and it’s about how much gets damaged before they break up.

x Yue: Aang was instantly intimidated, she is just so pretty??? and proper???, despite being the Avatar Aang doesn’t think he’s good enough, Yue really likes how funny he is, they bond over spirit stuff, something like her royal duty or whatever makes him think he doesn’t have a chance, he finds out she gets engaged because she thinks he doesn’t like her, they’d have like a Jane Austen kinda story imo

I’ll have to write the others later. I won’t be tagging the ships because I don’t wanna clog up the content. 

Edited to add Yue. How could I forget my lunar princess????

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Witcher Of The Night (Chapter 2)

CHAPTER 1

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: Y/N seemed to already have a spot in the house, and also a feverish feeling inside her heart. Totally unwavering and in distress. Geralt could feel it happening again as he could feel his heart soften at the woman who'd pop out of nowhere, thus; he doesn't know if her arrival has been a good thing or can be considered as ill-fate for him. 

Warnings: Modern references because reader lives in modern day era in earth. Geralt and Jaskier banters, non-stop. 😂 Just a filler chapter but also considered important because we can see how frustrated and scared the reader is and not being happy in an instant? 😂 Kinda fluff with Geralt and Y/N’s interaction? 

Words: 4,500+ (IT'S DAMN LONG. I'VE BEEN TOO HAPPY WRITING THEIR BANTERS 😂)

A/N: 2nd chapter for WITCHER OF THE NIGHT! 😊 This will prolly consist of 15-20 chapters or less! 😊 TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT THIS! THANK YOU FOR ALL THE LOVE IN THIS SERIES, POTATOES! 

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS FIRST PART! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE!

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Disclaimer: PNG's used in edits are not mine even the GIF's too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi. Characters and said monsters aren't from moi as well. (Gif down below is from witches-ground)

MY WORKS ARE NOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots! 

You sat on the dusty, creaking wooden chair that they owned. Eyes studying your surroundings as Jaskier moved around to get a pale of water while Geralt stood a meter away from you; leaning on a wall with his muscular arms across his chest, silently watching you like a hawk.

The stares he have been giving you were completely tangible for the naked eye or it was probably because you were conscious of his incomprehensible gawking. You noticed their roof was also thatched. Adding a burning furnace which also utilizes as their stove and heat for the night.

Your face frown at the realization that they didn't have any refrigerator nor a stove but noticed two rooms sat together. You've heard ruffling from the far back and liquid being poured down the bucket as your eyes landed on the man watching you in silence. Abruptly, a soft, vindicated smile raised your lips as you leisurely shook your legs left to right to suppress the consternation tingling your nerves, "Thank you," a quiet, sincere whisper was all Geralt heard amongst the oak wood burning in the background.

No answer was given other than having to take a gander as you sat away from him; a little bit recherché with that look in his eyes, "Thank you for saving me, Geralt." you repeated to utter out a word from the man himself. From the moment you've heard his voice; surprisingly, it was rather soothing to your anxious nerves. Frightening thoughts run over cars after cars inside your brain as you didn't know what the future holds.

You didn't even know how to go home. They've been avoiding the question as to where you could find the airport.

Geralt's name that rolled off your tongue sounded unfamiliar and thoroughly anomalous. But, you would probably get used to it once the dream reaches an end.

Technically, that was the problem. You didn't know if it was entirely a dream because it felt so real.

Shifting were heard and you've come to realize that Geralt had lifted himself off the wall, taking heavy steps close as you guiltlessly gawked at him. He fairly lifted the hem of his black long-sleeved shirt, giving you a slight view of his jutting torso. You've anxiously cleared your throat and avoided his pretty glowing, golden eyes keeping under scrutiny.

God has been testing your forbearance since you've woken up in the forest. Adding more inclinations to probably torture you till you wake up from your utter deep sleep.

Much to your inattentive state and your eyes shutting tightly; asking the heavens to wake you up in that instance, Geralt stopped before you; giving much space for you to breathe and seeming to be standing on your side rather than in front because it would be a very nubile sight to be in face with his leather-clothed crotch.

Damn you and your short genes.

"You are awake," he suddenly distracted you from your distraught. You were completely engrossed on wishing out loud for whoever to just kick you on the bed so you could be awakened.

Geralt dangled a piece of cloth in front of your face. Minimal blood dots containing the cloth on his hands. So that's what he was doing when he'd tried to give you a sneak peak of his chiseled torso. He ripped the piece of a long white clothing used for his wounds that surrounded his body.

There was blood. It simply means he's really human and not anything part of a pack of wolves.

"What's this for?" you've observed the piece of clothing hanging in front of you. Brows in a tight twist as you winced from the itch on a part of your soot-filled face. Geralt left no reply and gathered his hand on yours, the sudden gesture making you jump in your seat because of the sudden touch. His hand giving you some kind of tepid, amiable warmth that made you believe that everything was real and true as you catch a sight of his passive expression.

You've felt a soft cloth fall on the soft center of your palm, "--For the grime scattered all over your face and body," As quick as he'd grabbed onto your hands, he was fast enough to leave them hanging in front of you as he turned his booted heel. The width of his abnormally burly shoulders giving you a view as he strolled around their cozy home, locking your gaze on his overwhelming presence.

"You don't have to...." a trail of thoughts protested out loud as he'd crouched before a leather bag, thus hearing a clothing being ripped after. There was a Lute sitting beside the bag and you've took notice of it and focused on the instrument instead, wondering if Geralt owns the string instrument. Geralt rose to his feet and situated himself in front of you again to dangle another set of torn, clean white cloth, "---and for your wounds,"

The smile you sent was thoroughly cordial and unnerving. Geralt was supposed to turn away and mind his own business until you've peered up at him like a cat asking for attention. The powerful looking man had to emit an evident sigh; cursing beneath his breath that questioned your sanity as to why he was already kneeling before you; eye to eye and probably trying to enchant you as it bear into your mind that magical things have been happening since the moment you've woken up.

Yes, you debated with yourself and believed in your hunches that his effect with you had something to do with casting a spell for you.

"Do...you have a name?" he grumbled with a slight drawl to his words. His unorthodox eyes were much clearer against the fire and thoroughly fetching. You've had to blink to ruin the spell he'd tried to cast upon you and took your time in understanding what he have asked.

"Ughm," you mumbled like an idiot and played with the cloth in your hand, gaze fixated on the ball of cloth scrunched on your palm, "Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N,"

Geralt was attentive of your palpable and otherwordly scent. It was completely out of this world and he probably meant that literally because of how mystifying and strange you were around them. The latter could also hear the fast beating of your heart, taking to account that the effect of it was rather much a mental struggle he didn't know. Howbeit, the other half was another piece he wasn't familiar about.

He'd given you that captivating look as you continued to stare at your fidgeting fingers, "Are you a princess?" at that declaration and inquiry, your head snapped, fast enough to give you whiplash. A scrunch of your nose telling him that you've found his question rather uncanny, "What--as much as I'd want to be a princess, I think I'd rather suit to be a queen,"

You've bunched the cloth in your hand and restlessly cough onto it, looking anywhere except for that stare he was giving. What were you even saying? 'Where was Jaskier?' the voice inside your head spoke for your nerves.

A side of Geralt's lip involuntary lifted into a smirk, "You'd suit to be a midget," he paused, golden eyes glowing in amusement, "---A grimy, naive midget,"

His opinion suddenly struck a gut in you, snapping your head to meet his mischievous golden peepers, "EXCUSE ME?" you exclaimed, rather offended.

"Y/N of Novigrad? Vizima? Brokilon--" Geralt started telling peculiar names of places, and you were quick to object his options, "No! Y/N from State farm,"

There was a long minute of silence. His forehead creasing because of the bafflement that was accountable to your words. Geralt has never heard of that kingdom. If so, the kingdom had a bizarre name out of the ones he'd visited. State Farm didn't sound frightening to him if there were even beasts he could kill. Other than that, those beasts in State Farm rather had creatures like Hirikkas or Sylvans.

Entirely harmless for an unknown person like you, if you were still alive by now.

"Kingdom of State Farm," he lowly grumbled, keeping the name of the place in mind as a hum followed through, "Hmm,"

Your mouth momentarily went ajar as he nodded to himself, giving credence to the pun that was shared. The joke seeming to be rather irking than funny because of how convinced he appeared to look like.

"What do you mean hmm? It was a joke! You actually believed it--oh my! This is depressing!" you crowed with a finger to your temples, giving them a massage. Geralt guiltlessly cocked his head to the side, watching you rant and rave like you were close to having your patience blown.

He continued to stare you down with chaste; utterly childlike innocence, making you ogle back at him because he really had no idea what it was. Geralt seemed to wait for your vexation to stop and you couldn't help but bite the insides of your cheeks, feeling guilty for being frustrated when the man himself didn't actually know what it was.

"---I'm from...earth," your voice turned a volume lower, only for him to hear as you were close to melting from those blazing eyes.

You've raised a finger just before his chest, pointing your index at him as you couldn't help the tender beam growing on your face despite of how much problem you were experiencing.

"E.T vibes,"

Geralt eyed your finger in bewilderment. You high-spiritedly wiggled your finger for him to connect; a soft giggle baffling him to the extent as he watch you waggle your finger in front of him. Much to your disappointment, he distractedly grabbed onto your finger and shook your finger like he was shaking your hand.

Your giggle died down and so a disappointed frown was about to appear when the crash of a door opening resonated in the house. Jaskier tumbling in with a bucket of water as he gave off a set of exasperated breaths.

Geralt continued to shake your finger wrapped around his palm, never minding Jaskier who marched towards where you were and his gaze fixated on the connection at hand.

Jaskier dropped the pail of water beside you, breathing in a long breath before giving you both a double-take of his surprised expression, huffing out the rude awakening that startled out his breathing.

"What am I just witnessing?"

His Witcher of a friend instantly ceased from shaking your finger, dropping them like he'd been cauterized and languidly turned his head to peer up at Jaskier who has his eyebrow up in a sassy state.

"You treat her wounds, Geralt."

He gave the Bard a glare and a tight grimace.

They've continued their stare down contest and made you smile to yourself. Their friendship seemed to be pretty much earnest from how they playfully bantered at each other. More passionate than what you had back at home. Thus, you continued cleaning yourself; after saying your thanks to Jaskier and he seemed to smile a smug one at that before going back to narrow his eyes at the man before him.

"What? Don't you give me that scowl! I've already fetched a bucket of water for the grimy lady,"

"---You've also ruined my nap for this woman!" Jaskier retorted back even though he'd only gotten an unpleasant hum from the latter.

"Her name is Y/N Y/L/N," Geralt deeply chided as you continued wiping your filth-filled face and neck. Glad to know that he wasn't looking and gave his friend the attention he needed.

"Greetings, Y/N of Y/L/N." Jaskier started rather confidently, humbly and acknowledging you who sat in front of Geralt.

You've squeezed the cloth out from being drenched as you felt much squeaky clean than earlier. Once you've realized its done as you've essentially washed the dirt away from your wounds, you dropped the cloth Geralt has given you inside the bucket, fishing out the set of new clean cloth hidden under your leg, "My name is Y/N and Y/L/N is not a place--"

Your thoughts were ceased as Geralt pulled the long cloth out of your hands. The flat part of the bandage being wrapped around your wounded knee. Your heart was jumping in utter madness and you tried to softly pull it back, apprehensively looking into his eyes as he gazed at you in question. "I-I can do it on my own, Geralt. It's fine,"

He seemed to be reluctant at first, staring at you with no words said before humming to himself about his approval of leaving you to it as he stood on his soles.

The proximity was undeniably giving you an edge of one's seat. So, it was better to avoid the warmth at all cost until you haven't shaken up from your dream.

Jaskier narrowed his eyes on the cloth on your hands, seeming to recognize the bandage. His eyebrows raising in displeasure. "Is that..Is that a piece of my clean under-tunic?! You've ripped it off, didn't you?!" he snapped his head towards the Witcher and had his brows in a twist.

Geralt only gave him a small smirk as he brazenly stood tall before the bard, crossing his arms across his chest.

The bard started to reiterate again, jotting down points after points in bullet form as to how unreasonable it was to cut a piece of precious clothing just for it to be wrapped around for a wound, "I've bought it from a beautiful merchant named Albreda on a marketplace--"

"You've bed the fuck out of her in exchange for the Tunic, Jaskier."

The haughty tone in Geralt's voice made Jaskier groan; not because he was wrong but his friend was also right and he was frustrated because he was feeling guilty of nothing in particular, "Oh, gods! This is obnoxious! You're lucky I treat you as a friend!"

"Simmer down, you're going to wake Ciri." Geralt continued to grouch and nodded his head to the door beside his own bedroom.

"Oh, no you don't get to include Princess Cirilla in this defense of yours, Witcher!"

You were completely unaware of their banters. Though, you were certainly curious as to what has Jaskier been calling Geralt like it was established and a brand named for him. Your ears perked at the name been said.

"Witcher? You're a witch?"

Both men refrained themselves to continue their repartee. Eyes glued to each other before giving you a glimpse and saw the agog in your eyes, wishing for an explanation or answer.

You've scanned the whole house, searching for a cauldron and anything that could sense he was a witch, yet none. "Where's the cauldron where you cite spells or anything?"

Geralt subtly shook his head, "That's not my job,"

A wag of understanding was given; thinking that maybe you got it all wrong based on the video games you've managed to finish back at your home with your Playstation. Jaskier stepped a foot close, a cordial smile carving his lips, "That small rat, is a mage, a sorcerer or a wizard you are saying,"

He stepped another as he let you continue to wrap the wounds on your knees with his ripped clothing. The frustration suddenly thrown out in the sky as he cleared his throat, raising a hand to Geralt's chest to stop him from even saying anything, "Let me handle this Geralt, I'm downright absolute at this---"

His nose flared at where the topic was going, Geralt knew what was he pointing out and how his poetic wits could get him enthusiastic and utter clumsy, "Your endeavor makes my head hurt to its extent," he bleated with a deep groan sent to the latter.

"I can sing you a song to give you knowledge about Witchers--" he cut his friend off with a deep scold, "Jaskier,"

"What?! Every villager loved it! They've also learned to be accustomed by your presence whenever you're around!" he elaborated, straightening his back with a gesture of his hands as he twirled it around to prove his point.

"Well, your singing is like eating a pie and finding it has no filling,"

With that witty comeback, Jaskier dramatically clasp his hands on his hips, mouth forming an 'O' as he pointed at his friend like he has been deeply insulted below the belt; repeatedly shaking his head as he couldn't accept his opinions, "The audacity! Your character development is declining in such a repugnant way tonight, Geralt!"

Thus, all of a sudden; you've been included in their random retaliation as Jaskier pointed a finger at you, "This is her fault! She ruined your nap!"

Geralt gave out a fascinated hum, "You're just mad because you were frightened by an Alghoul,"

Jaskier shut his mouth at that, mouth hanging mid-way before closing like a gold fish. He cleared his throat for the second time around and nodded to you as you looked up at him after bandaging every wound you have that were sensitive and rather deep. A small smile at how satisfied you were with your work and at both of their foolishness.

Jaskier blinked as he saw you be all smiles despite of your problem at hand. Their banters surprisingly calmed your anxiety away for the moment and you couldn't help but be entertained by whatever they were talking about. He tightly shut his mouth before looking at Geralt and seeing him already taking a good look at your twinkling smile. He'd given you both a once over, a skeptical look flashing before his eyes and ignored the Witcher beside him and setting his bright blue eyes on you.

"You'll have your explanation of Witchers next time, small, adorable maiden. Geralt over here is just stingy about the whole ordeal because of certain pasts that he doesn't want to hear,"

Another exonerated beam was given to Jaskier which made him nod to himself because of how much radiance he had been receiving from your merry self; simultaneously followed by a nod of understanding that came from you.

"You need to sleep," Geralt gave away on the spur of the moment. Golden eyes still on you as you could feel the heat crawling on your skin for the third time this night.

Jaskier hummed a yes before responding and sublimely bummed to see that Geralt wasn't actually pertaining to him; but to you, "I know I do---" he shut his mouth before adding humiliation to the abrupt blissful feeling he'd felt after looking at you.

"---My bed is unattainable," the bard changed his sentence as he tried to read his mind. Nonetheless, he was contemplating that maybe Geralt would give his own bed to you or maybe not. "---Also, she needs to change into a much comfortable set of clothing," Jaskier stated the obvious as he took in your soiled clothes that you were wearing.

Geralt just gave him a look and with just one glance he was sure at what he wanted to say despite of not opening his mouth.

"You've already ripped a part of my under-Tunic, Geralt. I'm not having it,"

The Witcher cussed beneath his breath and gave him a glare. Jaskier's will unwavering, "Fuck," before strutting to his room and shutting the wooden door closed.

You and Jaskier looked at each other in utmost peculiarity; shrugging both of your shoulders at the sudden exit of the man himself. He was quick to come out of his room with a rather large looking black, thin, Tunic buttoned top which seemed to be fitted for him and rather short.

Geralt handed the shirt and you wholeheartedly accepted the clothing in a heart beat, "This is...Thanks," it was much better than having no clothing to change as you realized there was no shorts or underpants included with the simple long sleeved shirt, "Turn around, please."

Both of their foreheads creased with only Geralt having the desire question your point.

"Why?"

You raised a skeptical brow at him, standing on your seat with the single clothing you were holding, "Unless, you want to watch me get changed then..."

Jaskier scoffed at that, also hearing a perceptible snort as he gave his friend a look of mischief; with Geralt already having a tight scowl on his face, his friend wanting to add more tightness to that scowl he was having, "Maybe Geralt would want that based on how grouchy he is tonight! This Witcher needs to bed a woman after a month of great abstinence--Ow!"

The bard has been smacked on the head by the Witcher which made Jaskier stumble from the weight. Geralt snaked his heavy arm around his shoulder, never forgetting the nerving smile he has given you before turning them both around to give you your time to change.

"Shut up, Jaskier."

Jaskier gave him the stink eye, rubbing at his head because of how heavy and painful it was. His abilities could get Jaskier in bruises because of foul play.

You changed in haste, not wanting for them to see you in your unpatterned undergarments in the midst of it all because they were impatient enough and that you were taking too long.

"I can..take the chair and the table," you dubiously started to inform them that you were done. Geralt's shirt on you stopped just below your thighs, leaving your legs bare but enough to cover the decency you wanted because it was huge.

They both turned around and studied you from head to toe, a groan rumbling out of Geralt's chest as his eyebrows seemed to draw closer. The bard gave him an unimpressed tone of his voice, "That’s your kind of comfortable?"

“It’s kind of...freeing. Believe me,” 

They’ve shared another minute of death stares before you smiled to yourself. 

You shook your head to tell them that you were thankful of their help, giving them both another beam which reached from ear to ear as you pointed to their wooden table which seemed to be rather quite feeble as well as the chair that came with it. Four chairs surrounding the table that peaked your curiosity as to whom was living in the house aside from Jaskier and Geralt, "I can rest my head down on the table, I think it could suffice for now,"

"---Besides, I think I wouldn't stay long enough. I'll probably find a way to...an airport or something," you added, smile now wavering because you could feel your heart dropping because of the thought of never going back again.

Geralt stared you down with that subtle slant of his head, watching you speak, "As long as we're in earth," you tried to get an answer out of them, yet their silence says that they didn't know what you were really talking about, "---please do tell me we're in earth,"

Geralt exhaled a sigh, making your nerves stutter from the scary demeanor of his that was back again like the curtains has been opened. He didn't know what to say nor explain to you whatever it is that has teleported you in their dimension because he certainly had no idea that it was even possible from the start.

He was sure of the portals made by wizards and sorceress' that can only reach a certain depth of dimension, not thoroughly a dimension where their world couldn't seem to connect with each other. A portal only exists and can be opened through witchcraft and not having one partial entrance.

Though, why have you suddenly pop out of nowhere in middle of the far north forest of Kaedwan when you've originally lived on earth?

"Get some sleep, Midget." was the only answer as Geralt left without a smile, walking to his room and leaving your heart bothered at the fact that your questions were unanswerable by them and even you, yourself.

Jaskier have managed to rummaged a piece of clothing as a pillow for you to sleep on. Technically, he only has one and you've objected when he wanted to give it to you because you knew laying on the floor with a thin looking carpet seem to be uncomfortable in the eye and physically itself.

The cracking of wood was the only sound you've heard other than Jaskier's shifting on his side of the room. He was twisting and turning, completely distracted by your fourth attempt in sighing out loud as you've held onto your full battery phone that strangely didn't even had the clock on. It was simply four dashes which has been unable to tell the time back in your country.

You were staring on your phone, seeing the battery level go down to ninety-nine percent and you've decide to take the battery off, so you can use it for emergency purposes in the future.

The battery was off in just one lift of the recharge-able bank. Thus, in the middle of being eaten by your own pessimistic thoughts, Jaskier turned around as he laid on his bed, looking at your hunched form, your arms on the table and fingers holding your temple, "I...I....You seem to be in a distress," the latter stuttered, finding the correct words to comfort you.

He continued with a hushed timbre of his voice, "---I don't know what to say because this world is filled with magic and monsters," pause. "Geralt can only be the person to help you in going back home,"

You've taken a proper look at him, tears forming your eyes by how you were thinking that there was no going back. The knot in your throat making you swallow hard because you didn't want to cry in front of a stranger no matter how much of a softie you are. The fire emitting a rare sight of Jaskier's face glowing under the flames, "---That is if you really aren't from here and you've just hit your head on a rock or something,"

There it was, the tears starting to fall before you've immediately gathered those tears with the pad of your fingers. The utter hopelessness and sadness suddenly weighing on you like a boulder. Jaskier couldn't see you from his perspective, though he could hear the tiny sniffs coming from the other side of the house.

"---Maybe after getting some sleep, you'll get to go back home and magically pop back to where you came from, Y/N."

You've breathed out of your mouth and fumbled with the hem of the sleeves that covered your hands, solemnly looking at Tunic that the Witcher has let you use as your own. The cloth seeming to be wonderful for some snot and tear catching expeditions of yours.

There was no answer sent to the Bard as he closed his eyes and tried to sleep. He did eventually as you continued your weeping in the middle of the night, thinking that nobody will be able to hear it.

Though, you were wrong because you were unaware of Geralt's heightened senses as he sat on his bed and contemplated as to why your scent was indistinguishable from Yennefer. Entirely greater, stronger. Yet, with you; there was no magic involved.

Chapter 2 for WITCHER OF THE NIGHT is here now! PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO LEAVE FEEDBACKS WHEN YOU DO LOVE IT! Thank you, tater tots!

#geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x you #geralt x you #geralt of rivia x y/n #witcher geralt #geralt imagine #geralt x y/n #geralt x reader #geralt fanfic #geralt one shot #geralt of rivia fic #geralt #henry cavill x you #Henry Cavill #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x reader #the witcher fic #the witcher #jaskier #Witcher of the night #witcher of the night series #witcher of the night taglist #henry cavill fanfic #geralt of rivia fanfiction #geralt of rivia fanfic #the witcher fandom #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher fanfic #walter marshall

[khoicesbyk]

The Royal Romance.

A/N: I’ve decided to go into my own little TRR world and create an AU. This will be fun! So; Talley Ho! *in my Sherlock Holmes voice*

Rated: Explicit. | Contains sexual content and strong language. (You know? The usual from me. 😁) | Bolded and/or italicized words are conversations and thoughts of the characters. | Main Characters: King Marquise Rys (LI) and Queen Shanelle Dawkins (MC) | All Characters and names: (except MC and certain original characters, created by me) are property of Pixelberry.

Current Word Count: 1,500 words. (more or less. I stop counting after editing and re-editing. 🤷🏾‍♀️)

Song And Story Inspiration: NOLA-August Alsina | Away From Me/Control-Puddle Of Mudd

Prompt Time! Using @wackydrabbles prompt #76 “You’ll Feel Better In The Morning”. It’ll be in bold in black.

Tag List: @lifeaskim @choiceslady @secretaryunpaid @bebepac @pixie88 @txemrn @glaimtruelovealways @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @choicesfannatalie @hopelessromanticmonie @shanzay44 @wackydrabbles @choicesficwriterscreations

I AM UNAPOLOGETICALLY NSFW! READER DISCRETION IS STRONGLY ADVISED AND ENCOURAGED!

If you’d like to be added to my tag list. Just reblog or DM me and I will gladly add you. 😁😘

Chapter 21.) Shadow Of The Crown.

(This is from My King’s POV)

Here I sit with a drink in my hand while staring at the documents on my desk. One is the hotel blueprints I showed Tariq and the other is the Royal decree of debt collection for Lord Winslow. All both needed was my signature and a few lives would be turned upside down. But could I really do it? Could I be that heartless? Short answer: yes! Long answer: hell yes!

They deserve it after all. They’re coming after me and what is rightfully mine. They’re coming for My Queen. And they would have succeeded had that idiot not sent handwritten messages to me and Shanelle. I have always been afraid of becoming somewhat of a dictator like my father and my grandfather before him. But, now I understand why they ruled the way they did. Their enemies stopped at nothing. And clearly mine aren’t either.

Sure, their challenge for the crown and throne doesn’t bother me. But what does bother me, is them thinking that they’re going to undermine or intimidate My Queen. I can’t have that. I have to protect and shield her from them. That’s my job as her fiancé and her future King. I serve her before I serve my people.

They pushed me to this point. I don’t want to be this way. But if I’m gonna be honest, I actually like being selfish. Making them fear The Crown and it’s unbridled power is quite satisfying. I now understand why my father enjoyed it so much. He loved when nations feared him as much as they respected him. He always said it helped to know who was weak and who wasn’t. Just like now.

And sure, the court won’t like my decisions should I decide to make them, but then again that damn court doesn’t like anything that specifically makes them look bad. As long as I fall in line with what they want, they’re happy. My happiness and sanity be damned. Which is why I fight so hard for Shanelle. I want them to see her as the queen that she will be for all of Cordonia. But their stubborn determination will never let that happen. They’d much rather I be with someone like Duchess Kaitlyn or better yet, they’d rather I’d reunite with Madeleine.

Poor Maddie truth be told we were doomed from the start. Not just because I couldn’t get over My Queen but, we just weren’t compatible. And it didn’t help that she was still somewhat in love with Leo. Yet and still we tried to make it work. But the court and their whispers of an heir needing to be produced the minute we returned from our honeymoon, became too much. I do think she was a great queen. But with her endometriosis, she could never have children. And with no true blood heir, our marriage failed. I don’t hate her and I sincerely hope that she doesn’t hate me. She was a queen for Cordonia, not for me. I need a queen for me and I found her in My Goddess.

She is everything I could ever ask and pray for in a woman. Which is why this whole ordeal is so frustrating. I found the queen that I need and want. And the court has their noses turned up at her. Instead they’re actually leaning towards the Duchess and her idiot of a fiancé. Preposterous to say the least. They’re worried Shanelle would bring the country to ruin. But they have no idea how much ruin this kingdom would be in if the parliamentary vote goes in their favor. And when and if it does, they’ll be sorry.

All of this makes me thankful for whiskey because without it, I’d be out of my mind. It’s also making my current decision making a lot more fun. So do I or don’t I? I know the risks that I’m taking by signing these but a clear message has to, no…a clear message needs to be sent.

But what would she think? How would she feel or respond? Will she understand my decision? Now I have no delusions. I know that she’d be furious with me, but I’m only doing this for her and her protection. I see the way the vultures in the media treat her. Like she’s a fresh carcass for them to scavenge upon.

And while I’m proud to see that she is doing a fantastic job in her lessons with Regina, she’s still vulnerable in the eyes of the court. I realize that but I also know that she is a brilliantly resilient woman and I have full confidence that she will make a great queen.

That’s why I choose her. Her resilience. She doesn’t know the meaning of the word quit. The way she faces, challenges and takes down adversity is awe inspiring. She makes me a better king and a better man.

But the more I think about it, the more I lean towards approving the documents in front of me. Because I know that they won’t stop until she leaves me and Cordonia forever. And that will be the moment that I become the dictator that it was rumored my father was.

Many in the court whispered that he changed after my mother’s death. Which is partially true, he became suspicious of our enemies and certain allies and with good reason.

Many in the court didn’t like or necessarily agree with my mother. They opposed her being for and about the people. They wanted her to be about maintaining the court and its image. That wasn’t my mother. Like Shanelle, my mother was not a native Cordonian but my father loved her. Dearly. And much to the courts objections, he married her and eventually they had me. They were happy. He was happy. Until she was stolen from us.

My sweet mother. I miss her so much. I just want to hug her. I want to hear her sing to me. I want to see her smile again. I want to tell her how much I love her. Don’t get me wrong, I love Regina and will move heaven, hell and earth for her. She’s been good to me and my brother and she was a saint to my father. I do love her but it’s just not the same.

The way the court treated my mother is how they treat My Goddess and as a king and especially as a son, it’s infuriating. Both are beautiful, fierce and compassionate. My mother would’ve loved Shanelle. And much like Regina, she would’ve done everything that she could to convince the court, that she’s the one. My mother was young and vibrant when she was killed.

I’ve known for years that it wasn’t accidental. But I never knew who murdered her or why, but I vow that I will find out and when I do I will crush her murderers.

I can hear her beautiful voice in my head.

She would be disappointed with me. She would say, “my son, I know that you want to protect your fiancée but this isn’t the way to do it. I raised you to be better than this.”

And she’d be right she did. I am better than this. But I am also a king. My rule is being challenged. So I must do what I have to do as king to protect myself and My Goddess. Which is why these documents sit on my desk. This is how I protect us. What people don’t understand is that being a king is not just a title, it is a responsibility. I am responsible for the health, prosperity and safety of my people and especially my queen.

And what kind of king would I be if I can’t and don’t live up to my responsibilities?

And sure I could just brush off Duchess Kaitlyn and Tariq as nothing. And I really should but I don’t want to. I want them to fear what I can do. All with the swipe of a pen. And well this kind of power is delicious and it makes me understand who my father really was as king.

So if I sign these I will be the dictator that many in court said my father was. And honestly, especially now that I’ve thought about it I don’t care. I’m at my limit and this keeps me from plummeting towards having public executions just for the hell of it.

I can hear both my mother and My Goddess tell me not to do this. They’d say “Marquise you’re upset. You’re not thinking clearly. This decision isn’t who you are. Go get some sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.” And they’re right I will as soon as I sign these decrees. And sure, Tariq and Lord Winslow will hate me. But that’s what happens when you cross me.

And with the stroke of my pen it’s done.

Long Live The King!

Forever I shall reign!

#choices #pixelberry #choices stories you play #khoicesbyk #choices fanfiction #fanfic #the royal romance #queen of cordonia #queen shanelle #king of cordonia #king marquise

[lesbianbending-moved]

okay so i haven’t watched LOK yet bc i’ve been so scared to ( i’m obsessed w atla don’t hate me) since it first came out & ppl hate on korra so much & say ur better off just not watching it. but from what i’ve seen on ur account u seem to be a bigger fan of LOK than ATLA... why so? (no disrespect to lok at all i just want to know why before i start watching it bc i’ve heard so many bad things about it) thank you! 🥺♥️ love your account!

hi! thank u sm!! i wouldn’t say i like lok more than atla, i love them both for different reasons!! it just depends on the vibe i’m in (recently i’ve been in a lok vibe can you tell). i think there are parts of atla that lok is much better at portraying and vice versa, but i don’t like comparing the two shows bc they are v v different (which is where a lot of the hate comes from). i’ll b honest, i was v hesitant to watch lok bc atla was the most formative show for me growing up but now i love it so much! i can’t say whether you will like the show bc everyone’s different but i will say if you go into the show hoping for an atla pt. 2 you won’t like it. if you are open to change in the atla universe and want something that feels familiar but also v different you will love it. i agree with the idea that lok is a more ‘grown up’ version of atla, and for that reason i want to (as objectively as i can) give a brief breakdown of the differences b/w both shows:

PLOT:

this is the first HUGE deviation: atla is very character driven where lok is very plot driven. 

each has it’s pros and cons, but bc the plot changes with each season of lok while the show remains plot driven this leads to some characters feeling underdeveloped. this wasn’t necessarily the writers’ faults, they went into each season not knowing if it would be the last, so there isn’t a whole lot of time to have character driven episodes like atla’s ‘tales of ba sing se’ or ‘appa’s lost days’. which leads me to! 

CHARACTERS:

here’s the honest truth - lok has much deeper, complicated, and developed female characters than atla. both in numbers and in growth, lok succeeds at this. 

lok is v woman-centric with many women of all ages who have complicated relationships with themselves, their family, their loved ones, etc. they don’t try to make their women likeable or perfect, they are all allowed to be loud and angry and right and wrong and they’re allowed to make mistakes and grow. they’re people. even if a character doesn’t have entire episodes dedicated to them, they still have arcs that span seasons and make them feel like real people. the women of lok made me realize how much more we could have had from the women of atla (not that they aren’t amazing or well developed, it’s just deeper characterization)

korra has an arc that rivals zuko. i could go into it but i don’t want to give spoilers :^) and even parallels him in an episode in book 4 called ‘korra alone’ (the best lok episode sorry).

for this reason every woman in my life who has seen all of lok has loved it (actually i am the only woman i know who doesn’t have a preference of lok over atla) 

VILLAINS:

the villains in lok are much more complicated than in atla. they all are compelling and make us ask questions about ourselves as the villains hold ideals that we all believe in but take them to extremes. for example:

if a group of people feel they are being persecuted and demand equality, how far is too far? what if a group has genuine grievances but resorts to violent guerilla warfare and terrorism against innocents as that is the only way to gain equality?

what if a new leader arises who wants to take down a monarchy that has only brought pain and suffering to a country? what if this new leader truly loves their country and will do anything to ensure everyone prospers after centuries of the rest of the world allowing them to be degraded by idiotic monarchs? what if this new leader who is wildly popular among the masses becomes a dictator? do you replace the dictator who loves their country and has made true strides in progress for an airhead monarch with no idea of how to rule a country? 

WORLDBUILDING 

this is where lok loses a lot of people who are atla purists (this and the plot driven nature of the show where they are attached to atla being character driven)

lok takes place 70 years after atla and it shows! the world has grown! it has changed! the places that look the same (ba sing se and the earth kingdom villages) are shown to be poorly led and in political disarray. they didn’t evolve in the last 70 years because there was no leadership to move them forward.

the first thing i noticed (outside of the snazzy 20s music) was the bending. i’m gonna be honest, i did not like the bending at first. atla shows bending as a very classical art form, so to see it has changed so much in lok worried me at first. once i began to appreciate the attention to detail as to how a world evolves, i realized that the changes in bending are one of the coolest parts of the show. 

it’s not completely different. it’s just different enough where you can see the logical progression of time that would come through in the real world. it makes sense for lightning bending to become more common! it makes sense for more people to know metalbending as toph teaches a new generation of earth benders who continue to pass it on to others! it makes sense for the styles of bending to have changed in places because it’s a living art!

looking back on it, the bending feels like this: atla bending is like reading a classic like jane austen or shakespeare where lok bending feels like reading a contemporary novel. you can see the resemblance, you can see where the younger generation gets their inspiration, but the language has evolved. it’s so cool. 

i got your other ask and i will answer it separately as i don’t want to make this unbearably long!! i hope this helps!

EDIT: just wanted to add real quick that bc they have the same creators and writers the writing of lok feels v similar to the writing of atla! it has the same charm and depth while also showing growth. so you don’t need to worry about the writing styles/characterizations feeling totally unbalanced. anyways!

EDIT AGAIN: if you don’t mind v minor spoilers i reccomend watching the trailers for book 3 and book 4. they don’t give away much but give a good idea of the tone of the show and might give a better insight as to if it’s for you

#long post #Anonymous

[dancingkirby]

Finally another Azula Chapter!

Yooooo, I’m all done with the first two acts of the story now!  (Except for editing and adding on any new ideas, that is.)  And, as promised, here is Azula’s second PoV chapter.

WARNING: Non-graphic incest in the first part.

PAST

Flush with the excitement of the rally and freshly scrubbed, Azula was preparing for the audience with Father that she knew was imminent.  It felt good to be back in her armor; the red and pink outfit had been both pretty and practical, but simply didn’t offer the same amount of protection. On the outside, she looked every bit the maiden warrior-princess.  However, her inner layers were not nearly as modest.

Shiza made her patented frown as Azula rejected her usual bindings in favor of Daddy’s favorite pair of lingerie.  Azula was fairly certain that Shiza had known about their secret relationship for some time; it would be hard for her not to since she was the one getting Azula ready most of the time.  However, they appeared to have reached a silent agreement that they would both pretend she didn’t know.

The knocks on the door came at the perfect time, just as Shiza was putting the makeup knife away. So it was Father who wanted to speak with her first, then.

“Are you…will you be all right?” Shiza asked tentatively as Azula turned towards the door. What an odd question.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she replied.  

The throne room was empty save for herself and the Fire Lord…just as it had been when he’d sent her on this mission over three months ago.  Azula stopped a respectful distance away, knelt, and pressed her forehead to the floor.  Even when she raised her head, she remained kneeling with her eyes downcast, only daring to look up when she heard him part the flames.  

“The conqueror of Ba Sing Se,” Father said.

Azula would have liked to bask in the praise, but knew exactly what she was expected to say. She made a noise of demurral before responding, “I would never have been able to do it if I hadn’t had such a wonderful teacher.”

“Indeed,” Father replied, slowly walking down the steps.  His nearness made Azula quake in her boots, and not entirely out of fear. But she couldn’t think about that now.

“And your brother slayed the Avatar,” he continued, tugging on his beard.  “I was surprised.  I didn’t think he had it in him.”

How was she going to make this story believable?

“I didn’t either,” she began, trying to stall for a few seconds to think up the details.  “I was busy fighting the waterbender.  But then the Avatar was preoccupied, and Zuko saw his chance and took it.”  Should she say he used lightning?  No, that would be stretching credulity a bit too much.  “Fire blast straight to the back.  It was so precise and powerful that the Avatar never even knew what hit him.  And if that didn’t kill him instantly, the long fall to the ground certainly did.”

There.  That seemed to be an acceptable enough fudging of the truth.  She didn’t mention that they still hadn’t got official confirmation that the Avatar was actually dead, which was making her a little nervous.

“Wonderful,” Father proclaimed.  The story appeared to have passed his muster, and Azula made an internal sigh of relief.

“I take it that you received my dispatches about the intelligence I gathered?” she inquired.  Father smirked.

“Yes.  They’re planning an invasion during the eclipse. How precious.”

Azula allowed her face to relax the tiniest bit, and said, “I have no doubt that they think they’re the first people to ever try such a thing.  The Earth King sang like a sparrowkeet about their super-secret plans without me even having to try. I wish you’d been there to see for yourself; you would have loved it.”  Those idiots. They would have had increased security measures that day regardless.  

Father gave a shout of laughter so loud and sudden that even Azula was startled.  

“So do I!” he exclaimed.  “But let us discuss that a little later, shall we?  There are other matters I would like to attend to first.”

And just like that, Father became Daddy, and Azula adapted accordingly.  She knew from years of experience how to change her entire demeanor in the blink of an eye.  As she tugged her hair out of its topknot and let it fall freely down her back, she allowed her expression to soften, looking up at Daddy through her eyelashes while biting her lip.  

“What a brilliant idea,” she said, voice changed from formal and measured to almost a purr.  This had exactly the effect on Daddy, who ran over, picked her up, and slung her over his shoulder.

“Ohh,” she whispered into his ear.  “Unhand me, you brute.”

“Do you have any idea how difficult it was for me to find a replacement for you all those months?” Daddy growled as they left the throne room and began what seemed like an unbearably long trip to his rooms.

Azula really didn’t want to think about who might have been her replacement.  Instead, she giggled and said, “I can imagine.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first time did hurt, a little bit, but that was to be expected, and nothing that Azula couldn’t handle.  The second time, Daddy wasn’t in such of a big rush, so he could help make it feel good for her, too.  After he had been thoroughly satisfied–twice–he was ready to talk strategy again.  Azula always felt a little uneasy when he did this, because she wasn’t sure how to categorize this.  It was sort of in between Father and Daddy; he expected her to be all business when she didn’t have a stitch of clothing on.  

“The Avatar may be dead, but his friends will be out for revenge,” she told Daddy.  “They should not be taken lightly.  The waterbender has improved significantly even in the time I’ve fought against her, and rumor has it that the earthbender has somehow figured out how to bend metal.  If that is true, our bunker is no longer impervious.”

Daddy frowned. “That is unfortunate.  So you think that those two are our biggest threat? We will put the best of the Royal Guard at the main entrance, then, to neutralize them immediately.”

“Actually…no, I don’t think that,” Azula clarified.

“Then who is?”

Azula felt a smile tugging at her lips as she said, “The nonbender boy, believe it or not.  His name is Sokka.  He’s the brains of the group, and apparently the one who, um, figured out how to take down the drill.”  Maybe not the best idea to remind Daddy of that.  She rushed on, “Get into his head, knock him off-balance, and their entire plan will fail.”

“And you believe that you know how to do that?” Daddy asked.

Azula’s smile widened.

“I do,” she said simply.

PRESENT

She was prepared for every eventuality.

Well, maybe not every eventuality.  She supposed that perhaps they would figure out how to make a replica of her drill. Or…or maybe they’d make a giant walking suit of armor that shot energy beams so powerful that they could annihilate anything in their path.

Actually, that last one was an intriguing idea.  She’d have to remember to write that one down later.

But those were exceedingly unlikely scenarios, and she knew it.  Without the Earth Kingdom’s resources, there was no way that they would have the wherewithal to make such powerful weapons.  She was still prepared for every plausible eventuality.

Azula was quite confident that the Avatar and his friends would be heading this way.  War Minister Qin had been instructed to misdirect them, and that was a simple enough task that she thought even he couldn’t mess it up.  Everything was ready.  She had her Dai Li as backup, perched in the rafters. (Really, she wished she could have had Mai and Ty Lee with her as well, but they were sheltering in their own homes.) The past several weeks, Azula had been occupied with perfecting her nonbending fighting and evasion skills.  She’d had Ty Lee give her some pointers, and even considered getting her lover to chi-block her to mimic the effects of the eclipse (all her research indicated that said effects were not pleasant). However, she had ultimately decided against it. That might set an unfortunate precedent, after all.

Speaking of which, she thought that the effects were kicking in now.  It wasn’t so bad if one knew to expect them; mostly a sensation of cold and mild nausea.  Everything was muted this far underground, anyway.

Then…footsteps and shouting outside.  Qin had succeeded in his deception.  She adjusted her posture so she looked exactly the right combination of threatening and casual.  As the doors were blown open with a gust of wind, she smiled.  

“So, you are alive after all,” she said, just as she had rehearsed in the privacy of her bedroom countless times. “I had a hunch that you survived.  But it doesn’t matter.  I’ve known about the invasion for months.”

The look of shock on the trio’s faces (the waterbender girl wasn’t with them; too bad) was quite possibly the most gratifying thing that Azula had seen in her entire life. Did they perhaps think of her as some sort of supernatural entity with psychic powers?  She was happy to let them continue believing that.  The somewhat more mundane truth was, they hadn’t been quite as good as hiding as they thought they were, and she had received intelligence from multiple islands about a group matching their descriptions.

“Where is he? Where’s the Fire Lord?” the Avatar demanded.  Did he honestly think she was going to just tell him?

“Mm.  You mean I’m not good enough for you?  You’re hurting my feelings,” she said as she stood up, letting the barest hint of the voice she used for Daddy seep through.  She would do whatever it took to keep them distracted.

“Stop wasting our time and give use the information,” Sokka demanded, gesturing with his sword.  He’d caught on quickly, just as Azula had expected. “You’re powerless right now, so you’re in no position to refuse.”

Pfft. Look who’s talking.

The earthbender (her name was…Toph?) added, “And stick to the truth.   I’ll be able to tell if you’re lying.”

“Are you sure? I’m a pretty good liar,” Azula answered. Quickly casting around in her head for the most ridiculous statement possible, she said, “I am a four hundred-foot-tall purple platypus bear with pink horns and silver wings.”

It took no effort at all.  Every successful member of the Fire Nation royal family learned to lie almost as soon as they could talk.  When one was in such a high-stakes position, wearing one’s feelings on one’s sleeve could be deadly.  Zuzu had learned that the hard way.  

“…Okay, you’re good, I admit it,” Toph said.  Azula managed to not so much as even flinch as the earthbender trapped her in a column that went up to her chin.  “But you ought to consider telling the truth anyway!”

So far, everything was going exactly according to plan; it was almost too easy.  By Azula’s mental count, about two minutes had passed since the start of the eclipse.  All she had to do was to continue to occupy them for six more.  

Azula and the Dai Li had agreed that the latter would make their presence in the room known as soon as Toph tried earthbending for the first time.  Right on cue, the column binding Azula crumbled into nothing.  Her trio of adversaries looked flabbergasted again; Azula could almost hear them thinking, “Wait…she can earthbend?!”

“When I left Ba Sing Se, I brought home some souvenirs…Dai Li agents!” she explained.

The fight that followed was more an amusement than anything else.  At last, Azula got to show off the results of her extensive practice. No matter what obstacle they might throw at her, she could leap, jump, or flip through it.  It was rather like what she’d always imagined that airbending would feel like; sometimes, she looked at Ty Lee’s gray eyes and wondered.

Finally, Sokka realized how much time had passed, and told the other two to stop attacking.

“She’s just playing with us.  She’s not even trying to win this fight!” he said, a note of panic creeping into his voice.

(If he thought Azula hadn’t noticed how his eyes raked over her body as she flew past him, he was deluding himself.)

“Not true!  I’m giving it my all,” Azula informed him.  Technically, this wasn’t even a lie, since she didn’t specify what “it” was.  They bickered a while longer, accusing her of wasting their time when they were doing a perfectly good job at it themselves.  Then Sokka got them back to their senses again, and the three of them turned and started walking away.

“It’s a trap.  Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Azula said.  There were only a couple of minutes left in the eclipse now; she doubted that they’d reach Father in time even if they did know the way.  And if they blundered their way into one of the rooms surrounding his…it would not be pleasant for them.

“Ignore!” Sokka urged them as they continued walking.

It was time.  She’d been looking forward to this moment for the whole fight.

“So, Sokka’s your name, right?” she began.  “My favorite prisoner used to mention you all the time.”

He halted, turned his head back to look at her.  She had him.

Azula continued, “She was convinced you were going to come rescue her.  Of course, you never came, and she gave up on you!”  As his face crumpled, she felt a surge of triumph and…something else?

Had she thought that her trick with the dagger was going to work?  Not really.  Things would be more convenient for her that way, of course, but it would have put this part of her plan to a disappointingly premature end.  In any case, Toph disarmed her and threw her against the rough stone wall hard enough that Azula was certain it would leave a nasty bruise, and Sokka had her pinned before she could retaliate.  

“WHERE. IS.  SUKI?!” he snarled.  Oh, did he think that Azula had tortured his little girlfriend?  She was happy for him to continue thinking that.  Father would have used torture, yes, but Azula didn’t see the point of resorting to it when there were other, more subtle ways of getting what she wanted.

She continued to smile down at him, saying nothing, and couldn’t help but notice that his Fire Nation topknot suited him well.  So did that primitive…thing that passed for a military uniform with the Water Tribe barbarians.  That darker blue was definitely his color; he should wear it more often.  

“Where’s Suki?” Sokka repeated, interrupting her musings. “Answer me!”  The Avatar tried to get him to back off, but he didn’t listen. “Where are you keeping her?!”

Azula simply smiled even more.  Making him angry was so…so…wait.  Was that just her feeling the eclipse about to end, or was her body responding to him?  Daddy had had her against walls, many times, and often as enraged as Sokka was now.  That was all it was.  Still…if she managed to take Sokka prisoner as well, maybe she could…

No.  Daddy wouldn’t allow that.  And even if he did, it was a stupid idea.  Thankfully, before her hormones could come up with any further less-than-brilliant schemes, Azula was bailed out by the sound of a large explosion coming from the general direction of Father’s room.  She could feel her own power resurging as well.  

“Oh!  Sounds like the firebending’s back on!” she said in faux-surprise.  She had herself freed within a few seconds, and generously informed her opponents of her father’s location.

Azula felt elated as she ran out of the room.  Her plan had been a complete success; Father would be so happy when he heard.  She didn’t have any time to check in with him, though; she had to hurry onto an airship to make sure the Avatar and his friends got out and stayed out.

…Right after she found a bathroom.

#azula #ozai #sokka #fanfic

[onigirisuna]

ours are the moments (i play in the dark)

a contribution to @zutaramonth, quarantine edition, day 13: hidden (and just a bit of moonbeams). view my other work for zutara month (quarantine edition) here.

cw: heavy swearing and the tiniest hint of smut. tw: cheating and abortion.

Everything happens under the moonlight; when he burns the last memories of a happy family, when she grapples with forgiveness, when he begs for forgiveness from her, when she comforts him in his sorrow. Their most vivid memories were ones spent under the moonlight –

– So they choose the new moon to create the ones they want to forget.

—

They’re back in the Earth Kingdom, two months after his coronation. His friends flood in, a little more gaunt-looking than they were when they parted ways weeks ago; ten weeks of peace talks, negotiating with rigid officials, and keeping the world from falling apart (again) has forced all of them to grow up.

They’re so young, Iroh thinks with a twinge of sadness in his heart. Too young to be this hardened by war. 

But they are war heroes and war criminals – was there any difference nowadays? – and war is cruel to the young and naïve. They’ve all had to grow up, regardless of whether it was due to a mother lost, a man killed, or genocide. 

The three days that they have in the Jasmine Dragon are the only ones that the world will let them have to relive their youth; so Iroh lets them. Just don’t touch the tea, the ceramics, the kettles, the incoming supply of food, stay away from the customers if you plan to play a full-body game of Elements– oh! And no going into the work room unless you plan to serve some tea!

If Zuko had received this earful three months earlier, he would have rolled his eyes; instead, he smiles at his uncle and mimes a salute. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.”

Zuko returns to the balcony; when he gets to the landing, he finds that its tiles are already upturned and the floor is suspiciously wet. “Sokka,” he starts, but the blue-eyed boy shushes him.

“Shut up, Zuko! I’m working on a masterpiece!”

The ink bleeds out on the page before he could dip his brush back in. “What the hell, Katara!”

“My hair loopies looked like black holes, Sokka! That was not a masterpiece,” Katara yells back.

“I’d say I was pretty accurate,” Sokka responds, pulling out another blank scroll. Katara sticks her tongue out in response, but pulls back as soon as she sees Zuko.

“You look well,” she says, quickly pulling her eyes away from him. She cringes inwardly, berating herself for how utterly weird that sounded. He rubs the back of his neck, avoiding her gaze.

“Thanks.”

Mai appears next to Zuko, scrutinizing her space buns.

Oh, Spirits, Katara thinks. I should’ve stayed home.

—

It happened soon after his coronation, six weeks after they’ve won the war.

In between the flurry of paperwork and long, dragging meetings, she and her friends miraculously found a common time to spend together. They rendezvous in the palace garden, each bringing their own share for the party; Katara nearly doubles over with horrible flashbacks of sand dunes and mushroom clouds when she sees Sokka carry a crate of cactus juice.

Sokka catches her blanched look. “Oh come on, it’ll be fine,” he says. “It’s distilled!”

“And besides, we’re young, Katara. Loosen up a little!”

Sokka, you fucking idiot, she thinks much later, when her vision is distorted and her head – or is that her body? – begins to sway. She looks around and attempts decipher her surroundings; in one corner, Toph is yelling angrily at Aang while he sleeps on top of overturned Pai Sho tiles. At her six o’ clock – thank the Spirits – she could hear Suki and Sokka sucking face. “Get a fucking room!” Toph yells their way.

Zuko, however, is quiet. She sees him sulking by the corner, by their makeshift dining set up, taking another gulp of cactus juice. Even when he’s drunk, he’s a depressing sight to see, she thinks somberly. She slowly picks up her glass, keeping a careful eye on it as she makes her way to him.

“Stop that,” she says, taking a seat next to him. Zuko looks at her with a mixture of confusion and offense, arching his only brow as he says, “I’m sorry?”

“Stop being so sad all the fucking time,” she says, taking her own gulp of cactus juice. She picks up an uneaten lemon tart from a plate and shoves it in her mouth. Zuko makes a noise.

“Mai walked out again.”

Katara swallows. “She always does.”

Zuko shrugs, because she’s right; Mai always walks out, only to waltz back in a few weeks after she’s cleared her head. “It sucks, though,” he says as he refills his glass. What he doesn’t say is that he’s no longer referring to Mai’s thousandth walk-out; what sucks is that she keeps coming back, even when I don’t want her to, and I can’t bring myself to say no.

I don’t know how to tell her that I want you.

But Katara catches it anyway.

She washes the tang of the lemon tart down with more cactus juice; despite herself, she starts to sober. “I still don’t know how to tell Aang.”

Zuko takes a sidelong glance, checking to see if anyone else was watching. When he confirms that they’re in the clear, he tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

Neither of them are married, but this thing between them feels no less than an affair. How could they tell their friends – hell, how could they tell their partners – that they’ve been hiding a (painful, sorrowful) blossoming relationship since the comet left?

For war heroes, we sure are cowards, Katara thinks bitterly.

“Don’t be sorry,” she says. “I kissed you first, remember?”

Zuko smiles at the memory; it happened under a full moon, when he woke up for the first time since collapsing after the Agni Kai.

Katara gives him a pained smile as she sets her glass down. Before she gets up to leave, she runs a single hand through his hair and briefly rests her palm against his scarred cheek. “Good night, Zuko.”

He follows her in response.

The guilt that gnaws at her heart keeps her feet running. Maybe if I run fast enough, she thinks, I could put all this behind me.

But Zuko is agile and quick and he gets to her door long before she reaches the guest hallway. 

“Don’t,” she begs, her voice straining through the tears threatening to fall. “Stop it.”

Zuko tightens his grip on the handles. “But you started it. You said it yourse–”

“I know!” she yells, tears leaking down her face. “Don’t you think that the guilt eats me every fucking day? Every fucking time she walks back into your life, my heart bursts with relief and guilt and so much pain – don’t you ever think that?”

“And do you think that’s any different from how I feel?” he yells back with unmasked remorse. “I see him every fucking day, Katara. He’s in every meeting, signing every scroll beside me, and every time he says something, I keep on having to absolve for my sins because, Agni forgive me, I’m in love with his girlfriend and she’s in love with me too.”

Visions of a heartbroken boy of arrows fill her mind – there’s so much yelling, crying, too many twisted apologies – and she all but crumbles when she says, “Get the fuck out.”

Zuko steps aside this time; but before she could bring a second foot through the door, he whirls her around and kisses her.

This kiss is different from its predecessors; it’s fervent, desperate, and filled with unspoken apologies – to whom, however, she doesn’t know – and she gives in, because they’re both wretched on the inside.

They fall onto her mattress in a mess of limbs and tears. She’s crying and whimpering all at once, whispering his name through pained moans; his breath quickens as he moves down her body, his own shaking with regret, relief, and (sick, twisted) pleasure. Through their agony and remorse, they hold each other like a lifeline – only letting go when he enters her.

Wretched, like they’ve always been.

When they finish, she thanks the spirits for the new moon that shrouds them in darkness.

—

When Zuko steps away from her to inspect Sokka’s new masterpiece, Katara starts to feel her head spin; she holds onto the parapet, her face blanching with fear and nausea. In her periphery, she sees Aang and Toph whirring earth and water against each other; the quick movements and the raucous laughter almost makes her double over.

Oh fuck.

She darts for the nearest bathroom, careful not to slam the door; when her knees touch the ground, she retches all of her stomach’s contents. No, no, no, she thinks as she grips the sides of the bowl. Her head continues swimming as she attempts to hurl the last of her insides. She hears the door open behind her, followed by the sound of alarmed voices. A flurry of what happened? Are you okay? What the hell was that all about, Sugar Queen? assail her ears. Her head begins to spin again.

Katara tries to shoot a weak smile their way, but her face quickly contorts to agony as she empties her stomach once more.

When her stomach settles and her head clears, she no longer hears her friends’ incessant questioning; but the tingle behind her neck tells her that someone’s behind her, and the said person hands her a damp cloth. She wipes her mouth with it. “Thanks,” she says, her voice too weak to be heard.

“You’re a wise girl, you know,” Suki says. Katara tenses at the sound of her voice; she’s helped Suki through enough scares to know what she’s thinking.

“But it’s not Aang’s, is it?”

Katara shakes her head; Suki sighs and gently pulls Katara up from the floor. “Well, it’s a new moon tonight.”

Katara looks at her with a mix of relief and pain; Suki steps back in surprise. “You want to keep it?”

Katara shakes her head and bites her lip; she doesn’t want to keep it, but why does it still hurt?

Suki gently squeezes her arm in understanding; she then bends her head forward and whispers, “Will you be able to bloobend tonight?”

“Yeah,” she replies, still shaking from all her retching. As they cross the wooden floor of the teashop, she sees her friends cast terribly-masked and worried glances her way.

Zuko is nowhere to be found; Mai gives her a blank – yet knowing – look.

Suki never lets go of Katara’s arm until she reaches her room; when they’re sure that they’re out of earshot, Suki says, “I told them it was the new bean juice that we had on our way here.”

“Coffee?” Katara asks, amusement flitting through her eyes. Suki smiles.

“Bean juice.”

—

The bloodbending that happens that night is quick; she keeps an iron grip Suki’s arm as she forces her own blood outwards. The searing pain only lasts for a few seconds before she begins to leak red, and when she does, she holds back a strangled cry.

“I’ll wait outside,” Suki says, shutting the door behind her. Katara uses her bloodbending again to check for any abnormalities in her blood flow and eliminate any chance of blood poisoning; when she’s sure that her body is safe, she cleans up.

When she exits the bathroom, she pulls Suki into a hug. “Thank you,” she says, gripping the warrior with all that her gratitude could offer. She allows a single sob to escape her; Suki hugs her tightly in response.

—

A few minutes later, Zuko shows up at her doorway.

“It’s gone,” she says through gritted teeth and unrestrained tears.

Zuko says nothing as he walks towards her and gathers her into his arms; she lets herself cave into him as the full weight of the last month collapses onto her shoulders. With Aang in the next room and Mai in his, she feels sick, twisted, and–

Wretched, like they always will be.

#zutara #zutaramonth #zutaramonth2020 #quarantumblr #otp: thanks to you #fickle #alternate title: wild and fluorescent come home to my heart #zkquarantine

[karma-was-taken]

creator tag game

Tagged by @onlymorelove. Thanks Only <3

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2019. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

I honestly kind of hate everything I’ve ever written, but I want to learn to be more positive and self-loving so I’ll try my best to focus on what I do like!

1. a tale of love and lies (Earth-3490, fairy tale AU, SteveTony)

To start things off with a bang, this is without doubt my favorite thing I’ve ever written and one of the only stories I genuinely, wholeheartedly love... which is ironic, because it’s also one of my least popular works. It’s a fairy tale retelling that follows the adventures of Antonia, a princess who left her kingdom in search of honor and disguised herself as a knight along the way. 

Writing this story was a challenge in the most wonderful ways. It is easily the most “serious” fic I’ve ever written: I tried to write it in the style of the original fairy tale (which dates back to the 1550s lmao I like to suffer) and while I don’t know if I managed it perfectly I was really proud of the results I got! I love the concept, the characters, the plot, the style... idk, I’m just really happy with this fic. I don’t really know why it didn’t do as well as I was expecting, but it makes me kind of sad whenever I think about it, so if you feel like reading it and you end up liking it please let me know! It would make me really really happy :)

2. Coming Back and Coming Out: Richie Tozier’s 2019 (IT movies, Reddie)

On a completely different note, I LOVED writing this fic just because it allowed me to be as funny as I wanted without giving a single shit about the plot, and to be honest I love comedy more than I love anything else in life. This is number 2 on the list because I had a blast while writing it, and because I genuinely think it turned out pretty good! I love comedy, I love outsider POVs, I love interview fics, and guess what? This fic has it all! I just wrote whatever I wanted without a single care in the world -- there’s a comedy special bit in there, a bunch of tweets, Bickering As A Love Language, two grown men acting like teenagers in l o v e, sO many bad jokes... 

This fic is a mess, but it’s a funny mess, and I feel like that’s a very me thing to write.

3. A Mermaid’s Kiss (AU, Stuckony)

This one was written for a remix event, and boy oh boy did I struggle to write it, but I’m not too unhappy with how it turned out. It’s got the classic ‘mermaid falling in love with pirates’ trope that I adore, and I always enjoy an excuse to let myself work on a bit of world-building. I loved the challenge of figuring out all the little things Tony could do to communicate without being able to use his words, especially since most of the fic is just a conversation between a merman and two humans. Plus, I mean, Steve and Bucky as pirates... that’s a big hell yeah from me chief.

So yeah, this story is just 9k of Tony going from “these two humans are idiots that’s so fascinating” to “oh god oh god whY are they so HOT and NICE what the FUCK” which is honestly a mood and completely understandable.

4. Redemption (MCU, Winteriron)

This one is basically a big “canon? no thanks!” fic that starts at the beginning of AoU and tries to fix all the problems I had with Civil War. I tend to only write AUs, so writing a canon-divergent fic was interesting but kind of difficult for me. 

Bucky and the Soldier are two separate personalities, which is a concept I find really interesting and I had a lot of fun in getting to explore it. I also love the structure of the fic (the POV switches and the time jumps) and I’m super happy with Winter’s characterization, but I struggled a lot with the ending and I don’t really like how it turned out. Still, I think it’s a good story with a fun narrative structure, and it was fueled by pure spite so the catharsis it gave me... unparalleled.

5. Unposted WIP (MCU, RhodeyTony)

I know I’m breaking the rules but shhhhh!! I’m putting this last because it’s not technically a work I created in 2019 (since it’s still unfinished lol) but oh my god this one is my baby. It’s a rhodeytony fic told from the POV of Peggy Carter and Roberta Rhodes. I honestly started writing it because I adore the trope of Peggy being Tony’s godmother, but then I fell in love with the idea of exploring Peggy and Roberta’s reactions to their two boys falling in love... and I couldn’t resist writing it. Knowing myself, I’ll probably end up unhappy with it once i do get around to posting it, but right now I’m really proud of how it’s turning out. It’s the most character-heavy fic I’ve ever written (I teared up a couple of times while writing it because it’s so emotional for me) and I really hope I’ll get to share it in the future.

That’s it! Thank you Only for tagging me <3 I don’t know if you guys have already done this but imma tag my babes @tinyfuriouscloud @duckmoles @ionicirelia and @starxxreactor. No pressure of course!

#tag game #we're loving ourselves in 2020 gays mark my words #long post

[yulon]

Ansem the Wise is over-dramatically vilified in the fandom and here’s why

hello. i return to tumblr with this [waves hands mysteriously] apparently HOT TAKE

SO HERE I AM 

First, a brief rundown of misinformation about him going around:

Ansem the Wise didn’t do any of the horrific human experiments [edit***- fixed wording!]. Let me repeat it: Ansem the Wise did NONE of the horrible experiments on people. Not on citizens, and not on X. The only - yes! ONLY! - experiment Ansem the Wise did was on Apprentice Xehanort, who volunteered, and it was just a psychological test. Not “feeding people to Heartless”-esque shit. None of the “kidnapping people and subjecting them to hell on earth”-esque stuff. It was just on homeboy Xeha.

“If I explore Xehanort's heart with psychological tests, I may be able to recall the past locked away within. My apprentice Even has also shown great interest in Xehanort's memories. But is he really the right subject? Xehanort does indeed exhibit extraordinary talents...Too extraordinary... Perhaps they are even superhuman.”

After, he immediately regretted it:

“I have made a grave mistake. My study of the "darkness of the heart" began with a simple psychological test and quickly snowballed.”

“....Unbeknownst to me, my six apprentices then began collecting a large number of subjects on which to perform dangerous experiments into the "darkness of the heart."

As stated in KH3, Ansem the Wise found out they were doing this - WITH X SPECIFICALLY - and stopped Xehanort from continuing the experiments. This is why Ansem SOD sought him out in KH3 - it was because he thought AtW took X away from him to completely stop the testing.

People get confused because Apprentice Xehanort wrote them under Ansem the Wise’s name, something which is quickly explained in Ansem the Wise’s secret reports.  It would not make sense for Ansem, who loved his citizens, to kidnap and experiment on them to the point of insidiousness. It would not make sense for him to see Xehanort and the others doing it and freak out about it if... he himself was also doing it... the logic there doesn’t add up.

So, where we are now:

Ansem the Wise did none of the horrific experiments. Xehanort and the other apprentices did. If you want to hate someone for the awful things done to X/Skuld and the numerous innocent people who were tortured (so much so Xehanort plainly says they “mentally collapsed” and were FED TO HEARTLESS,) direct the rage to Xehanort, the other apprentices, Xemnas, and Ansem. 

Isa, Lea, and Ienzo WOULD HAVE NO REASON TO HATE HIM. HE DID NOT EXPERIMENT ON SKULD/X. HE SAVED HER. [B]LEASE. ENOUGH OF THIS.

But! Ansem the Wise was a huge jackass to Roxas and Namine! I hear you starting to type up your scathing reply! Maybe he didn’t do those awful experiments, but he was abusive and awful!

Yes. You’re absolutely right. After Xehanort and his apprentices banished him to the Realm of Darkness, stripped him of his identity and his research, and destroyed his home, Ansem (somewhat appropriately) grew mad with Darkness and sought revenge. Blinded by it, he sought to destroy all Nobodies, including ones which he had no personal grievances with (like Roxas and Namine,) instead using these as pawns for his personal gains.

DiZ was an abusive, horrible person. Yeah. I’m not an idiot, y’all. He was.

Hey! Y’know who else was? Master Xehanort. You know who else is? Xemnas. You know who else is? Ansem SoD.

Do I see even a QUARTER of the absolute hate this fandom slings toward AtW directed toward those three?

“But what does it matter if other characters are awful? That doesn’t absolve -”

Nope! It doesn’t! Ansem did awful, horrid things. Hate him for those, seriously. But you know what separates them?

Ansem realized his mistakes.

Ansem the Wise realized how terribly he treated Roxas and Namine. He apologizes to Roxas.

Then he sacrifices himself to destroy Kingdom Hearts so Xemnas can’t use it.

“It doesn’t make it okay even if he said sorry!!!” Nope. Maybe not. But even when he came back in KH3, he CONTINUES to try to atone... atonement being a HUGE theme in KH3, if you stan Saix/Isa, Vexen/Even, or whoever else, and hate Ansem the Wise because he doesn’t deserve redemption - bruh. Come on. You realize what you’re saying, right? hewwo??

The fact the only villainous character in the series who turns back to his old and bitter ways and truly and utterly seeks atonement is the one who is hated the most in this fandom is simply .......... buckwild.

Meanwhile, people don’t bat an eye at Xemnas lying and manipulating the entire OXIII, Ansem SoD possessing a literal child, or MX destroying 3 young lives. And if they do, they don’t do it on NEAR the level at they do at what AtW did.

AtW, the only one who tried to do better.

a’ight

Recap!

Yes. As a revenge-blinded DiZ, Ansem the Wise was a truly awful person: a true villain like Xehanort or Xemnas. You’re right.

Unlike Xehanort and his incarnations, however - none who ever showed a LICK of remorse about their awful actions - Ansem realized his mistakes and tried to atone, going so far as to give up his life.

You know what else?

Ansem the Wise put data in Sora to save not only Roxas, but XION AND NAMINE TOO. Yes! That’s fucking right, my man! You couldn’t have your Sea Salt Family back without Ansem the goddamn Wise! He is literally, like, the only reason Roxas and the others are back. Without him, Ienzo would have had NOTHING to go on in KH3 on how to get Roxas back.

AGAIN: Without AtW, Roxas, Xion, and Namine could never be restored. Though he loathed Nobodies as DiZ, he went out of his way to try to atone for his actions by figuring out a way to bring them back.

“But he blamed Ienzo when he reunited with him in Radiant Garden!!! He agreed Ienzo made a mistake even when he was just a kid!!!”

THIS TAKE IS WHAT REALLY GETS ME HEATED!!!!!!! Y’ALL!!!!!!

This is what he ACTUALLY SAYS:

“... I was just a boy. But I should have known better. I am truly, deeply sorry.”

“I think what matters most is you recognize the mistake. Peace, Ienzo. It was I who was consumed by hatred - who failed you in my obligations as your mentor. Forgive me.”

Ansem respects Ienzo and accepts his apology, very gently and kindly. This is the man who was Ienzo’s master: he knows the kid, even though it’s been years.

HE KNOWS IENZO WANTS FORGIVENESS.

Have you ever done something awful that wasn’t really your fault, but you still feel like shit? Did someone ever say “no, it wasn’t your fault, don’t worry about it,” when you just wanted them to say something like: “it was a mistake, but it’s fine now.” You just want to be forgiven for it?

Ansem gave that to him. Look at his face! Fuck!

Then Ansem IMMEDIATELY swings it back to apologize TO IENZO. I’m gonna post it again.

“It was I who was consumed by hatred - who failed you in my obligations as your mentor. Forgive me.”

He accepted Ienzo’s apology as a hand wave then blamed himself for what happened (even if it wasn’t his fucking fault) -

AND IENZO DOES. CLEARLY.

And I still see people saying shit like how AtW shouldn’t be near Ienzo? What about the OTHER apprentices, who Ienzo said LIED TO HIM about what happened to AtW?

“They told me you’d gone mad - that you’d betrayed us!”

So that means you think Even shouldn’t be around Ienzo either, huh? Or Dilan? Or Aeleus? That’s what you mean, right? Because Ienzo literally says they manipulated him into thinking his mentor went crazy.

In conclusion:

Ansem the Wise did none of the horrific experiments. He STOPPED the experiments, which the apprentices later continued behind his back.

AtW as DiZ is no worse than Xehanort in any of his incarnations. He was a villain and terrible. You’re right. But unlike Xehanort, he realized his mistakes and did everything he could (including near-death) to atone. 

Without AtW, Roxas, Namine, and Xion would not be here. Full stop.

If you think AtW doesn’t deserve forgiveness or redemption then apparently you don’t think Saix/Isa, Vexen/Even, Axel/Lea (you guys remember what he did in CoM and KH2, right?), Marluxia/Lauriam, Larxene/Elrena, ETC, FUCKIN ETC, do either. SORRY. THAT’S THE RULES. CAN’T PICK AND CHOOSE because you like one character more or another character was mean to your fave.

You don’t have to like Ansem the Wise. I get it. He was an asshole. But for fuck’s sake, read canon and analyze it logically. Fuck. Goddamn.

The fact one of the only "bad guys” (the only fucking bad guy to have an actual reason to be bad beyond “uhhh idk darkness lmfao”) to try to find redemption is the one hated the most is fucked up. End of story. Bye.

#kingdom hearts 3 spoilers #kingdom hearts 3 #ansem the wise #oh! i'm heated! #kh3 spoilers #spoilers #kh3 #long post #discourse #i guess. fuckin hell man. lord in heaven.

[artificialqueens]

Sunshine, and Glory Too (Trixya) - Chapter 1 - fannyatrollop

AN: This is technically my first time posting here… not counting the collab fic with Grey-Darling because that Earth angel posts it up for both of us. I’m an independent woman this go around. On AO3, I have a nasty habit of going in and picking at my work constantly, so my writing gets a lot of post-production edits that way. It’s why I don’t sleep much. I don’t think I’d be able to do that here, so AQ will forever get my fics after they’ve been finished/edited to death and back.

So here I am, bearing a quality-controlled sort-of Princess fic. xoxo, Gossip Nya.

The night before the twins were born, their mother dreamt that one of her daughters would accomplish something truly wonderful. She always said that the moment Pearl was born, she got the feeling it would be her.

Unfortunately, Trixie was the one she pushed out after she had filled her quota for love. This sad fact was even reflected in her naming choices: Pearl the precious gem, and Beatrice, after a dead grandmother. Her words and behaviour to her daughters as they grew would only prove the point further; as far as the Baroness Liaison-Mattel was concerned, her daughter Trixie was an afterthought.

Trixie consoled herself by thinking that all her mother’s waffle about Pearl being born special was just the way she justified her blatant favouritism, and for her part, Pearl thought so too. She thought it was absolutely hilarious that she, out of the two of them, was supposed to be the special one.

“She tells people I’m quiet because I’m thoughtful, not because I can barely speak my own native tongue,” Pearl would say, on those odd nights when they would share a bed like they did when they were little girls. “Seriously, Trix, I’m the family idiot. You’re the one I’d be watching if I was her.”

“But you’re the pretty one,” Trixie would respond, gently poking the tip of her sister’s nose.

Poor Pearl never wanted to be exalted above her. She always seemed to be apologizing for her existence, and though Trixie secretly thought it was the least she could do, Pearl had always been a wonderful sister and friend to her. When Pearl brought herself down to cheer her up, Trixie would naturally build her back up.

They had lived that way all their lives. Having no one else, the sisters could not afford to be rivals. Something like real love existed between them, bravely making cracks in the resentment their mother’s treatment would naturally create.

Trixie was no angel. She was capable of feeling jealousy towards Pearl. But in the end, when nobody else cared to, it was Pearl who held her hand, and that mattered a great deal.

***

For all her talk about being an idiot, Pearl had accomplished at least one important thing in their short lives. If it wasn’t for her, they probably wouldn’t be the crown princess’ ladies in waiting.

It wouldn’t have been possible at all without their mother’s aggressive push to involve her daughters in high society. Though the Liaison-Mattels were only rich in status nowadays, the baroness had the tenacity of someone who never did take well to the loss of her husband’s fortune, which she spoke of as if it was simply misplaced under a cushion rather than gambled away through a vice passed down his noble line for generations. Wherever the money had gone, they were still landed aristocrats and there was no reason to behave lower than their rank allowed. Besides, until the girls’ father actually landed himself in debtor’s prison it really wasn’t all that bad. They could show themselves among their kind of people.

By this logic, Pearl and Trixie were perfectly worthy of being presented as companions to Princess Violet, heiress apparent to the throne, on the occasion of her heading off to the Royal Academy for Royal Ladies. Her Royal Highness had decreed that she wished to mingle with the nobility, so that she might get to meet other young ladies, and choose her companions according to her own taste. Naturally, a grand ball at the royal palace was in order.

There was some fun involved in preparing for the ball. The girls were both well-versed in breathing life into old gowns, for it was not always within their means to commission new ones for the season’s big events. Pearl carefully restored their mother’s old debutante gown, and Trixie, once she had recovered from nearly suffocating on the dust she had disturbed by producing it for her use, went to work on one of her namesake grandmother’s party dresses.

Beatrice the Elder had, reportedly, been very fashionable in her time, but the aggressive pastel ruffles that threatened to swallow the dress whole were no longer au currant. Even so, Trixie did not have the heart to get rid of them, not completely. She liked the way the dress made her look like a cloud, as light as she could possibly claim to be. Her body was not shown to advantage in the sleek styles favoured by the fashionable crowd, anyhow.

Neither of them expected anything to come out of being presented to the princess. For Pearl and Trixie, the evening’s excitement was based solely on the simple fact that they would be going somewhere. They did not foresee that their family would be contacted with the news that Pearl had been selected as Princess Violet’s new lady-in-waiting.

It puzzled Pearl, for she had only exchanged some brief words with the princess, about music. Her cheeks got pink when she recalled this brief conversation to Trixie, who had left her alone to go on a quest for refreshments when the interaction had taken place.

Being a small kingdom, news traveled fast, and they eventually came to know that it was only Pearl who had been selected as the princess’ companion. Violet was known to be decisive, to know exactly what she wanted and what she wouldn’t abide by, so as soon as she expressed her inclination that was that. Though she had every right to be like this, her actions still created a buzz among the privileged. The princess was, after all, entitled to having as many ladies as she pleased. It was strange for her to only come away from the evening with one. There were whispers about the princess being confused, behaving like a prince choosing a bride.

If that really was the case, it wouldn’t be surprising. Violet had been brought up like a prince in many ways, with full knowledge that she would rule on her own right when the time came. Many a frustrated adviser to the king had expressed worries about the day their first queen regnant would ascend to the throne, as she was already proving rather inclined to getting her own way.

The Baroness Liaison-Mattel, in her infinite wisdom as a well brought-up lady, and one who was acquainted with the gossip about the princess’ character, had the gall to insist on her second daughter tagging along into service as a condition for taking on her precious Pearl.

“They’re twins,” she said, coolly staring the royal envoy in the face as a torrent of sweat sprouted from his brow. “Surely I’m not expected to have them separated, am I?”

The princess delivered another sizable shock by taking them both without much of a fuss. Trixie was sure she could thank Pearl whispering into her ear on her behalf for the opportunity, rather than her mother’s impertinence. She felt more comfortable thanking the sister she liked for her good fortune, rather than the mother she resented. Her assumption was confirmed upon her first meeting with Violet.

“I hear you’re clever,” she said, addressing her words to the wall rather than to Trixie. “And that you’re an accomplished musician.”

Trixie nodded, and then remembered that Violet was not glancing in her direction. Trixie wondered if she held all of her conversations this way, or if she only did this with people she felt were beneath her.

“I have been said to be those things,” she said.

Violet took a lengthy pause.

“I should like to hear you someday,” she said, finally, giving her a quick glance. “I do like music.”

***

The Academy was located at what may as well have been the very end of the Earth, especially to a lady as unaccustomed to travel as Trixie. A carriage led to a ship, which led to yet another carriage on a journey requiring frequent stops. Pearl slept through most of the ordeal, often slumped against Her Royal Highness herself. Violet would venture to run a tender finger through her hair when she didn’t think Trixie was looking, or when she was too weary to care that she saw.

Trixie was only able to rest when her body could not physically maintain its refusal to sleep without the basic comforts she was used to, a common ground she shared with Violet. The two of them would share insomniac silences while Pearl slept and Violet’s fae companion, Fame, had drifted off to attend to business neither of them were privy to. Sometimes they attempted conversation, but they mostly gazed out of their respective windows and waited for another member of their party to take charge of brightening the air. When she chose to be among them, Fame proved to be the most eager to step up to that challenge.

At approximately five hundred years of age, Fame was apparently considered a tad young to be part of a royal entourage by the judgment of her people. She normally looked and behaved as if she was of age with the rest of the group, though she had known Violet since she was an infant and sometimes shared stories about her childhood antics. According to Violet, Fame looked exactly as she did then when she was small. She would carry her in her arms to soothe her if she hurt herself, and rock her to sleep while singing lullabies in the fae tongue. Even though she was told not to coddle her, Fame persisted in her gentle ways with the young princess. As her presence was more of a boon to the king than it was to Fame, disciplining her for ignoring his wishes was not really an option.

Trixie had never met a faerie, nor had she shared any contact with magical beings before entering royal service, so she couldn’t really say she had any expectations about Fame. She hadn’t been certain she’d get to meet her at all.

Her knowledge of the fae folk implied that they would only bother to interact with humans if an effort was made to attract them. Trixie wouldn’t have been surprised if Fame had refused to appear before her, but appear she did. She would speak to Trixie when Pearl and Violet were too caught up in the camaraderie they had fallen into ever since they met, and, having noted her discomfort, offered to put her to sleep at various points. She swore her magic was perfectly safe, and that she was skilled enough not to accidentally put her in an eternal sleep, but Trixie would always decline and then regret her choice, vowing to accept the next time Fame offered her help.

Fame told Trixie all she knew about the Academy, to help her pass the time.

Essentially, Trixie learned, it had been established as a place to allow princesses from a remarkably large geographical reach to mingle. Princesses generally receive plenty of education at home, so there would have to be something more in it for royal families to send their daughters abroad in such large numbers. A place where a sisterhood of princesses could emerge, it was assumed, would make diplomacy an easier task, and create alliances that would otherwise be impossible. It was known that women were the relationship builders of the world.

The founder was rumoured to be some sort of fae. Fame was certain they were, for they were able to produce fae companions for exceptionally beautiful girls of low birth and essentially transform them into marriageable princesses. There was no way these special cases could be so blessed without the help of a benevolent fae. Even someone like Trixie, gifted with rank though not with gold, would never have been able to attract one with her family’s resources.

“Which is a shame, really,” Fame had said, toying with one of Trixie’s curls. “I’m certain you and your sister are more than worthy on your own merits. Alas, my kind are far too fond of gold and other shiny things. Precious few would be wise enough to know what a pleasure it would have been to help raise such charming girls as the two of you.”

Trixie hadn’t known how to respond to that, had simply nodded and thanked her. The look in Fame’s eyes betrayed her true age. It was a bit overwhelming to be under Fame’s gaze. To Trixie, it felt like her mother might look at her like that if she ever decided to love her.

***

The Academy’s grounds were a whole universe unto themselves, with a grand palace as its centerpiece. Upon entry, the palace would prove to be larger on the inside than the already mammoth structure they beheld as they approached. Pearl grasped Trixie’s hands in hers as they pulled in, gasping at the sprawling campus.

If there were stories of lonesome ladies simply disappearing in its halls, or somewhere in the surrounding wilderness, it would be reasonable to assume that they were true. Though she was one of Violet’s official companions, Trixie was more or less left to fend for herself from early on. She was told that she had all the freedom in the world to carry on with her days how she pleased, and that she would be sent for if her presence was required. As she was seldom needed, she had plenty of time to risk being swallowed up by her temporary home.

Pearl settled into her role as the princess’ companion with far more fervour than Trixie did. Perhaps that was to be expected. Violet liked to keep her close, and the longer they were all together the clearer it became that Pearl liked it too. She started sleeping in Violet’s chamber a few days after their arrival, and seemed rather pleased to do so. The space in her and Trixie’s shared bedroom became a sore sight with how lonesome it was. Trixie tolerated it, though, as there was no challenge to her in growing accustomed to a state of affairs that had been clear from the beginning. She was no stranger to being unwanted, to the point where it was almost a comfortable feeling.

Still, Pearl had been Trixie’s constant companion since birth, and she missed the way it was when they only had each other. Trixie missed being a sister. She wished her twin had not been taken away from her.

When she thought of it that way, though, she would be struck with guilt. All things considered, Violet had been rather gracious in her treatment of her. It would benefit their family if the future queen decided Pearl was her favourite, and Trixie prayed their mother wouldn’t spoil that with her personality.

Not long after their arrival, a new member was added to Violet’s entourage, easing Trixie’s loneliness a little.

Kim was the most promising young seamstress in their kingdom, and had been selected to take charge of the crown princess’ wardrobe. Violet had a keen interest in fashion. Her wardrobe was enormous, and would only continue to grow. As part of her duties, Kim would sit with the princess and create new designs for gowns, with her creative input. She would often be sent to gather materials, and spent a large portion of her time sewing, though she was mercifully allowed to procure an assistant or two for particularly difficult projects. Kim was a true prodigy, quite adept at going it alone most times, but even someone with golden hands like hers sometimes needed a little help.

Trixie would offer her services when Kim required them, and sometimes even when she did not, so they could spend more time together. Kim had a room set aside for her use, but when she was not abroad with the freedom to chase rumours of some wonderful new type of fabric and a bottomless budget, she would share a bed with Trixie. It was almost like being a child again, sharing secrets with her sister until the sun rose back up, or until they both nodded off.

“If I had my way,” Kim said, on a particularly silly night. “My eyes would cover half my face.”

Trixie had laughed out loud at that.

“You could ask Fame to make it so. I might do it too, then.”

As her presence was only specifically requested when her princess wished to hear her play, it didn’t take long for Trixie to start feeling like a useless charge. Even so, she was determined not to fall into an eternal sulk. It was not because she valued cheerfulness, or had a particular wish to be agreeable to the people around her. Trixie had always had a contrary streak. If the world insisted on putting her in a situation where it mattered little if she lived or died, letting that get her down would be akin to losing, and she was not going to stand for that. She may have been a fearsome general in another life, or a very stubborn mule.

So she devoted more time to her lute, and her harp, than she ever had at home. She had free rein of the library, and had as much paper as she desired at her disposal to write if she so chose, even if she wasn’t a great poet or thinker. She laid in the sun and let freckles bloom on her skin, enjoying the lack of a shrill voice telling her it made her look too low class. Sometimes, she joined Violet and Pearl in their amusements, and made the most out of having Kim nearby when she did. She focused more on her freedom, and less on her desire for someone to share it with.

***

Written into the code of conduct at the Academy was a truly noble attempt to create a semblance of equality among its many residents. This was mostly meant to benefit the special cases, those girls who had been so charitably plucked from obscurity in order to keep royal bloodlines fresh and inspire the dreams of the downtrodden. To discourage divisions over rank, every young lady within the walls of the academy, whoever they may be, should be referred to as one would a noble lady. Violet and Trixie, different as they were in rank, would be known as Lady Violet and Lady Beatrice to those outside their circle.

This didn’t change the reality of the situation; some ladies were destined to wield more power than others, and this was not hidden in the least. The size of a lady’s entourage played a great part in distinguishing those born with a golden crown in their future from those who could only weave them out of wildflowers and dream if not blessed with divine intervention. Violet was an unusual case in that her personal household was rather small, for she did not wish to be responsible for too many souls when there was no need. Bringing a personal pastry chef, for instance, was permitted to her, but it would be a display of status rather than a real necessity. Equipping their daughters with all the luxuries they did not need was a show of strength, a kingdom’s assertion that they had riches enough to waste on their precious princesses.

Violet preferred to show strength through her own regal bearing and lack of concern with proving herself, but the same could not be said of all her peers. She became fast friends with a Lady Valentina, who boasted one of the most extravagant entourages at the Academy. Her court away from home included a full band, three dressmakers, and one individual whose occupation was to provide fresh roses for her suites every other day. She had five identically-dressed noble ladies whose sole purpose was to follow her silently wherever she roamed. They were called The Five Lady Marias, because even their names matched.

Lady Valentina had a personal pleasure barge, complete with a rower. She was gracious enough to allow Violet, along with both Trixie and Pearl, aboard for a sunny afternoon on the campus lake. The water was uncommonly pretty and clear. Trixie liked watching the fish go about their business as the barge moved over the water with the speed and urgency of a tortoise. There was no possible destination available to them, but the lake was large enough that it was difficult to see the opposite end from shore, so they had room to float lazily.

From their position, they could see Valentina’s ladies waiting at shore, content to fan themselves and play cards on a blanket laid out for them to sit on. Trixie had spotted the Lady Adore taking her daily swim; a mermaid princess, she found it taxing to keep a human form for as long as she would need to if she ventured a full day on land. She once said that she longed for the sea like nothing else, but as long as she was in water once a day she could make do. Sometimes she could even be found there twice in one day. She would search for and wave cheerfully at the boating party whenever she rose from the depths, the patches of scales that were always visible on her skin gleaming in the sunlight.

That day, Lady Adore was joined by another lady, one Trixie was not acquainted with. Trixie watched the girl jump into the water with a whoop and a giant splash, while her fae companion conjured up a plush chair to sit in. Like Fame, this faerie chose a human form, appearing as a heavy set woman with shocking orange hair. She shouted as her charge splashed some water her way, but they seemed to be friendly.

Trixie strained to get as good a look at the girl as she could, oddly intrigued by the stranger. She did this until it felt too silly to continue, too silly and a little mortifying. She guided herself back to her company, which she had parted with momentarily to shove her nose into the affairs of others. They had been discussing music while her mind was away.

“I am still at a loss as to why you haven’t brought your own musicians from home, my dear,” Lady Valentina said, the air sweetened by the musical stylings of her country’s best lute player. “You’re a curious creature. You have such a great opportunity to show off your people’s talents, and yet you leave them at home.”

“You could always visit,” Violet said, with her customary inability to make eye contact with the person she is speaking with. Granted, Valentina often fell into that habit as well.

“Lady Beatrice is very talented.”

Trixie sat in shocked silence. She remained so while Pearl murmured her confirmation that Trixie was, indeed, musically gifted, and rattled off the instruments she had learned in her efforts to while away her childhood. She wasn’t used to being singled out by Violet, much less complimented.

Valentina fixed her eyes on Trixie, along with the wide smile she always wore, one that never quite reached her eyes.

“Lady Beatrice, could you please play for us?” she asked, gently.

Trixie felt Pearl squeeze her hand, and caught Violet looking at her with a small smile on her face. She gulped, but nodded her agreement, and quickly found herself holding the lute Valentina’s court musician had been playing, which had been directed her way with a wordless gesture from his mistress.

Though her hands shook at first, Trixie loved music dearly, and when she concentrated on the song she wanted to play she was able to shed her nerves. She chose a traditional song, one that had always calmed and comforted her when she heard it before learning to play herself.

When she finished, she was met with Valentina’s enthusiastic applause, and a surprising spark of life in her normally cold eyes.

“Brava, Lady Beatrice!” she shouted, without tiring from the applause. “Could you play another? Lady Violet, did you know she was so accomplished when you took her on?”

“I had a reliable source,” replied Violet, with a fond glance at Pearl.

Trixie hoped she wasn’t blushing. She agreed to play again, had to admit she enjoyed the attention.

“Aja!” Valentina called out, until the most original looking girl manifested in a shimmer next to her. “Could you please make the sound of Lady Beatrice’s music carry better? I’d like it if my ladies could hear it too.”

Trixie chose a song she knew to be Violet’s favourite. She let herself be absorbed into her playing, in the sound of the music and the way her hands felt like they were gently guided by a supernatural force. She wondered if she truly was talented, or if she had a guardian she could not see showing her the way.

She felt a hand settle firmly on her shoulder to shake her from her trance. Pearl motioned to the water, where Adore was peeking up at them.

“Hullo,” she said. “Got a message for Lady Beatrice.”

“Go on,” Trixie said, smiling back at her. There was something about Adore’s easy manner that just made her smile.

“Lady Katya, the one waving at us over there, well, she just wanted you to know she really liked your music,” said Adore. “Wouldn’t rest until I came all the way here to tell you.”

Trixie watched the girl on the shore as she waved with both arms back at her, and cupped her mouth with her hands to cheer at her. She must have looked awfully stupid, for she eventually felt a splash of cool water hit her face. Adore must have put her back into it.

“I’ll tell her thank you, yeah?” Adore offered, sticking her tongue out at Trixie.

Trixie nodded her assent.

#trixya #pearlet #trixie mattel #katya zamolodchikova #pearl liaison #violet chachki #valentina #miss fame #fairytale au #fantasy #princess au #rpdr fanfiction #fannyatrollop #sagt #lesbian au #royalty au #historical au

[romcomathon2016]

A Christmas Prince (USA, 2017)

And now, a special bonus edition, not for any actual occasion, but just because we freaking felt like it. God bless you, Netflix, for this glorious season when all the worst Hallmark movies ever made arise out of the depths for easy streaming upon demand. Happy holidays, Romcomathon readership! (We will also be watching an equally terrible non-Netflix movie, it looks like, on actual Christmas. Prepare yourselves.)

Predictions: Alex, having read the description, knew that it was about a reporter and a prince, perhaps falling in love through a house of lies. Kat, not having read the description, predicted that Christmas was a place as well as a time, and perhaps the Prince of Christmas -- A CHRISTMAS PRINCE, IF YOU WILL -- was looking for a bride. At Christmastime. Perhaps the Kingdom of Christmas only merges with the regular world at Christmastime!!!! Who can say.

Plot: Uh… Kat was joking, but may not have been entirely mistaken. Whereas she was picturing some sort of seasonal magical fairy kingdom, Aldovia is instead a supposedly real country that crowns its monarchs at the Christmas Eve Ball???? But let's back up a bit and explain.

Rose McIver is a "junior editor," aka peon?? at a fashion magazine in "New York" (a whole variety of skylines were used here, though...huh), who inexplicably gets sent to a foreign country to cover the possible abdication of a playboy prince, Ben Lamb. Obviously he turns out to not really be a playboy; she assumes a fake identity by accident (is mistaken for the princess's soon-to-arrive new American tutor); and she immediately finds her way into both his good graces and those of his wayward, overprotected little sister -- who, by the way, has spina bifida AND is super sad about their father's death a year ago. There was literally not a heartstring that this movie did not attempt to tug, y’all; we are shocked that there wasn't a baby animal of some kind wearing a ribbon around its neck at a pivotal moment.

Anyway, Prince Ben Lamb just doesn't know if he wants to be king, guys. Can he handle it? Can he handle it?? No, kind of seems like he can't, tbh, but since his scheming cousin, next in line, seems like a truly terrible person, he should probably try. But wait! Plot twist! Rose McIver stumbles across an incredibly poorly-hidden secret compartment in the king's hunting lodge -- after having been rescued by Prince Ben Lamb from a wolf in the snowy woods, mind you (...yes) -- and discovers SECRET ADOPTION PAPERS. PRINCE BEN LAMB IS ADOPTED, AND NOBODY KNEW!!!! Well, except his parents, presumably.

Here we start a new paragraph specifically to ask HOW. HOW IS IT POSSIBLE THAT THE ROYAL FAMILY SOMEHOW ADOPTED A CHILD AND KEPT IT SECRET FROM EVERYONE. EVERYONE.

Naturally, Scheming Cousin and his lady friend (actually Prince Ben Lamb's former lady friend, but let's not get into it) discover this as well, because Rose McIver is the worst undercover reporter in the world, and they decide to keep this information under their fancy evil hats until the Right Moment. When is the Right Moment, you ask? Obviously, at the Christmas Eve Ball/coronation. Yes, two for the price of one. The Aldovian monarchy is v. practical and/or thrifty that way! They also have the Prime Minister do the ceremony (perhaps not wanting to spring for a priest), and he (perhaps having never before seen a coronation?!) runs the whole thing like a wedding. Does anyone object to the prince's crowning, he asks, or forever hold your peace?? Guess who doesn't hold their peace, guys -- lol, it's Scheming Cousin. THE PRINCE IS ADOPTED!!!!!!!!

Man, what unfortunate timing, now that Prince Ben Lamb has finally gotten his act together and agreed to be king. Also unfortunate: the scheming duo reveals the truth about Rose McIver's identity. WHAT IS EVEN LEFT FOR PRINCE BEN LAMB TO BELIEVE IN???? He doesn't know who Rose McIver is! HE DOESN'T KNOW WHO HE IS EITHER. Also, the Prime Minister clearly has no mind of his own, and the Queen somehow has no power???? (We suppose that makes sense, though, since this nation is apparently stuck in like the 1100s or something, because girls still can't inherit and the line skips right over Prince Ben Lamb’s sister??) Anyway, they're all just like, welp, it's Christmas Eve, so we couldn't possibly wait a day to reasonably discuss our nation’s future, and instead we absolutely must crown Scheming Cousin immediately. All is lost.

Rose McIver, meanwhile, is at the airport headed home, all dejected and stuff, when she has a sudden epiphany about the secret poem the prince showed her in the hunting lodge. (SO MUCH SECRET STUFF IN THIS HUNTING LODGE, YOU GUYS. WHAT WAS EVEN GOING ON WITH THE KING. WHY DID HE SHARE NOTHING WITH HIS QUEEN OR HIS COUNCIL????) She rushes back to the castle and breaks open the homemade acorn Christmas ornament that the dead king left for the queen (...yeah), and lo and behold, a secret decree naming his adopted son worthy to be king. The king even took care to mention that it wasn't about blood or anything, but rather about Prince Ben Lamb's good character, which incidentally, Prince Ben Lamb was worried about. HOW PRESCIENT OF HIM. (Though not as prescient as if he had done the normal thing and publicized this before his death and avoided this whole debacle. :|)

Rose McIver bursts into the SECOND coronation; the Prime Minister again has no trouble accepting this latest sudden, poorly-verified turn of events; and Prince Ben Lamb gets properly crowned. Rose McIver goes back home to “New York” and writes a very schmaltzy story about how great he is. Her editor, surprisingly, does not want to publish this CRAZY STORY that she paid for Rose McIver to get, so Rose McIver quits and starts a weirdly successful blog instead. Then, on New Year's Eve, King Ben Lamb turns up on the doorstep of her father's diner and proposes to her. YUP, YOU READ THAT CORRECTLY, READER. THE KING OF A NATION PROPOSES TO A WOMAN HE KNEW FOR ONE WEEK UNDER AN ASSUMED IDENTITY. THE END.

Best Scene: It is impossible to choose, perhaps because there was not a single scene in this glorious Christmas masterpiece that did not seem like it had been ripped from another film and spliced into this one in iMovie. The number of lines that we predicted out loud before they were said on screen was, shall we say, astonishing, but then again, not astonishing at all.

Worst Scene: All of the best scenes were the worst scenes, and all of the worst scenes were the best scenes.

Best Line: "You haven't thought about this. I mean, we barely know each other." -- Rose McIver, saying what we are all thinking. I mean, who would marry this royal idiot?? HE HAS BAD JUDGMENT AND WILL SOON BE DEPOSED, AND THEN WHERE WILL YOU BE?? Points for having good sense for once, Rose McIver. Points lost for capitulating moments later.

Worst Line: "A palace is a lonely place for a king without a queen." -- King Ben Lamb, during his proposal speech, all of which was awful, just to be clear. Although we did enjoy how his answer to pretty much all her objections was, money can solve everything! I mean. He's not entirely wrong. The royal family is probably very rich from all the money they've saved on coronations.

Highlights of the Watching Experience: Ummmm, reading the article that Entertainment Weekly wrote about it?? This article, a journalistic tour de force of the sort Rose McIver could never compose, addresses all of the concerns that we could not fit in this blog post. It is accurate and hilarious. Read it here.

Also, this whole watching experience was a highlight of our year. Literally the tropiest film we've ever watched. Cannot believe how many different clichés they managed to cram into one movie.

How Many POC in the Film: Like...2-4? One of her two friends was black (the other was a gay man, of course), a jerk reporter at the magazine was also black, and there may or may not have been an Asian person or two sprinkled in in Aldovia, with hardly any lines. Not awesome, for 2017.

Alternate Scenes: So, how did Rose McIver end up needing to be rescued from a wolf, you ask? Well, it's because she stole a horse from the stables to stalk Prince Ben Lamb, and then it threw her and left her in the snow, à la Beauty and the Beast. Only this low-budget cinematic wonder could only afford one wolf, evidently. Excitingly, though, in the moment before this wolf came on screen, we were wondering if it was going to be a werewolf, and if this movie was REALLY going to take a turn. Truthfully, readers, we kind of wish that had happened. We would watch that alternate film. Possible titles -- iWerewolf? A Christmas Wolf?

Was the Poster Better or Worse than the Film: BETTER. Now, we know we’ve suggested that no film could be better than this one, but this badly-photoshopped family holiday card is clearly the poster for a movie about the Prince of Hell, who rises out of his pentacle in a tower of flame to claim as his bride Rose McIver, who happens to love Christmas. Whereas of course the Prince of Hell hates Christmas, because it's Jesus’s birthday, and he is the Prince of Hell (duh). Hijinks ensue; eventually they overcome their differences, and maybe the Prince of Hell abdicates his hellish throne in order to live on Earth with Rose McIver. The final scene is, of course, them in their charming living room, enjoying Christmas. The Prince jokingly puts a devil-themed ornament on the Christmas tree (yes, they make those; we double-checked). "Oh, you!" says Rose McIver. They giggle together. Pan out into the snow.

Score: 4 out of 10 pasted-together-out-of-a-random-Hallmark-plot-generator smooches. Soooooo bad, you guys. Probably zero actual-movie smooches. But 10 out of 10 smooches in our still-laughing hearts!

Ranking: 72, out of the 109 movies we’ve seen so far. Sadly, we would rather rewatch this than a shocking number of other things. IT WASN'T GOOD, JUST TO BE CLEAR. NOT GOOD AT ALL. Yet...what a grand old time we had. This is the most perfect terrible movie we have ever watched or could ever imagine watching.

#a christmas prince #rose mciver #ben lamb #2017 #special bonus edition

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Witcher Of The Night (Chapter 4.1)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

WITCHER OF THE NIGHT MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 4

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: Seems like a Hirikka wants to be adopted. Thus, it was the Hirikka's presence that made things a lot more complicated for Geralt as he seemed to have a difficult time saying no to those doe eyes that you and the Hirikka had; leaving Jaskier to realize there was seriously something fishy about you and it was not just because of the witcher's frustration for his great abstinence that he badly needed a woman. Hence, there was something more.

Warnings: Fluff and tension from Geralt and Y/N! A tamed Hirikka who wanted to join the fam-bam! The word vagina and smash 😂 curse words and a very dramatic bard! Brief mention of Yoda. 😂 Soft! Geralt! 😍 Y’all can sense how Y/N has a crushie on the witcher. Taking care of an endangered species at home; but will eventually be freed when...it’s time.

Words: 4,100+

A/N: THANK YOU FOR ALL THE UNDYING SUPPORT! It's still full of fun, excitement and development. You'll have a sip of the plot soon enough! Problems will arise soon and I don’t know if you’ll like it? Heehee!

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE!

Disclaimer: PNG's used in edits are not mine even the GIF's too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi. Characters, places and said monsters aren't from moi as well.

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

Some people said that when you're on your way to a journey you never knew about, it would be as difficult as taking a trek up the Mount Everest; saying that the way back home was pretty much effortless because the right path home was already engraved inside your head.

Not for you. You were heaving breaths again as you were not even halfway through the forest till Geralt's house.

Your eyes scanned the whole woods. It was extremely vast, thick and humid. Thoroughly astir with life like you have never seen before. Never, even back in your dimension; in earth to be precised. The forest of Kaedwen was like a fantasy genre game that has came into life and you were completely astounded even though, you were hunched over your knees like a dog panting in heat.

You've heard his horse gallop, wheezing before you as you gave them both a huff of exhaustion; giving Geralt a nasty lour when you've breathed in another deep one. The witcher suddenly jumped off his horse as you carry one with heaving breaths when he'd abruptly called out for you.

"Come," He demanded; standing beside Roach completely poised and with authority. Both hands on his leather belt with those hypnotizing set of peepers fixated on you. His expression lukewarm.

A baffled crease of your forehead coming together as you stood up straight; lips forming a tight thin line full of enervation. You've sauntered to where he is, very languidly and feeling your soles hurt every now and then. With Geralt suddenly conscious of your limping form and the huge cape you were trying to keep away from dirt because you've held the ends of it as you walked through the forest. "Why? Is there something wrong?"

The witcher shell-shockingly tutted when you were at arms reach, shaking his head as he does so. You've felt him take a step closer, towering over you with a stare he could muster that can get your face boiling in twitterpatters.

His palpable warmth was radiating off you quite irresistible. Such a warmth that could want one person to be engulfed in all night against the crisp wind that the kingdom of Kaedwen can offer. A tempting gesture you've wanted to take but had no will to do because it'll be very much strange for a person who'd suddenly appeared out of nowhere and hug the warmth out of him because of the cold wind.

"Turn around," He deeply muttered, slightly leaning his chiseled face down to your side as if to whisper in your ear. You've felt the baffling goosebumps rise your skin; the familiar warmth suddenly itching your face once more like a charger that was about to explode.

Faces close to each other and the vision of him leaning down just to whisper in your ear was enough to make you stammer like a high-school girl again. His Aurum eyes undeniably clearer and different when stared at with only a few inches away. It was giving an effect that makes you question yourself what your name was when you already know what it is, that kind of effect as each day passes.

"Why--why are you so demanding---" you started with a wild stammer. One side of his lips lifting in an inconsiderable amount that got your heart pounding, "Turn. Around." Geralt repeated, very much firmer and clearer with that subtle mischief in his peepers.

The cheeky bastard knew what he was doing.

You've stood your ground. Your eyes narrowing at the Witcher with a tenuous amount of pout because of how he'd gotten out of the ordinary since the moment he'd given you his hooded cloak.

A brief amount of headstrong stares were shared before the other raised his white flag, wanting to roll his eyes at the disobediency. The tall, brooding man sighed exasperatedly before you've felt his gentle fingers hooking your hips and painstakingly turning you around to his satisfaction.

This was the first time he has held you in such way. Your breath hitched and Geralt definitely heard and felt how your body react to his touch. It was like he was injecting a fiery kind of warmth that shoot through your veins when he turned you around.

Your legs were submitting to his demand. He was like your master and you were his puppet that he could play with the strings. Totally controllable with just one whisper.

"A stubborn midget, indeed." He uttered, completely lackadaisical. You bit the insides of your lips in consciousness. Very attentive of his fingers tightly clasping your hips and his warmth radiating from behind.

Geralt couldn't help but get a whiff of that delectable scent you had. The irresistible scent that boils his emotions like fireworks popping in the sky. He deeply sighed, eyes fluttering closed as he breathed. A coherent growl coming out of his chest making you turn your head to the side; wanting to ask what was wrong because he seemed to be having a battle within himself.

His touch was sending you the shudders whenever you were having a date with one of your suitors. These suitors that eventually got tired of courting because of how boring you were in reality. They were just attracted to the outer beauty you had; the adorable expressions you make or a sweet voice that gives them the thrill of having you. But, when they finally had the privilege on seeing the real you; they suddenly stop and find another woman who was worth the courting.

Kind of disheartening but you were used to it. All the damn time. They've called you boring but you've called yourself an idiot for liking them a lot in the end when they were officially pulling away.

Though, with Geralt's touch; there was something different. Something that could get your heart feeling the thrill and comfort you wanted and needed that nobody could ever give and you were beyond dumbstruck because of it.

"Hold on to Roach," the witcher suddenly dictated as you were distracted by those fingers clasping your hips, "What---" you asked out of nowhere, feeling his hold go firm as he pulled you closer to him. The mellowness of your face growing hotter when you've also felt his breath on top of your hair. You were panicking, but in a good; thrilling way.

"---and jump when I carry you," he added with the gruffest tone he could perpetrate. Your hands were quick to grab onto Roach's body when all of a sudden, you've saw an animal sitting on the ground in your peripheral vision; only catching the silhouette of his body.

"Wa-wait," Geralt ceased to carry you onto his horse's back. A curious hum leaving his chest as he haven't carried you midway yet. The sound of feet shifting was heard and you've turned your soles to be met with a brown animal who also had a lanky torso, legs and feet to stand, with arms that had the same structure of a human. Big eyes in the shade of dirty yellow, a stout jaw and nose but with sharp teeth of a wolf.

"Geralt?" the sound of your voice consists of slight fright but also completely fascinated and with utter interest. No words were given to you when you've pointed at the Hirikka who stood on its feet, languidly blinking back at you with those doe eyes, "A walking puppy!"

You've given the Hirikka a toothy grin as you were enchanted by how adorable it is. The animal was beyond out of this world for you as there were no types of animals like it. The Hirikka slanted his head to the side, curiously watching what you were doing as he'd seen you smiling before he languorously tried to smile back but it appears as if he was threatening you and showing its teeth.

The witcher's eyebrows were met with a tight knot; thoroughly judging you from behind. It was the Hirikka he'd given an apple before you even met Cuthbert.

"---Or...It's...It's a walking cat!" you pressed on and pointed at the animal with no idea that it was already a monster standing before you. Your giggle was enough for Geralt to know that you were ecstatic for seeing a Hirikka rather than being scared. He kept silent and continued listening to your rambles, "---A big cat with the ears of Yoda!"

You were about to make a run for it; before Geralt held you in place and tugged you back with his hands still on your hips. Totally unaware that he was still holding you because it felt all natural for him to be touching you like that. Your eyeballs were close to having it pop out when you've felt him keep you rooted in your place as he mindlessly droned, "No, It's a monster. A Hirikka. An endangered one," he paused, feeling you sigh and notice the dejected pout you had because it wasn't just a normal animal but a monster to their world.

The latter was quick to back-paddle; trying to lighten your hopes up, "---But, harmless. Never fear, midget."

Your smile flared up into a grin, all teeth shown at the Hirikka with Geralt's enlightening statement before yanking your head back to meet those gold eyes staring back at you in humdrum. The upper portion of your head; hitting his armored chest with a soft thud. Those peepers of yours overflowing with perversity and a hint of beseeching.

"Geralt?" you beamed wider than ever before; hoping you looked worthy enough for the favor to be accepted.

The witcher dropped his hands to his sides, not even noticing he was holding you longer than he intended to. He crossed his sturdy arms with a look of irritability and refutation from the whole idea. He just knew what you were pointing out as you wanted to hug the Hirikka if he didn't pull you back.

"Can I---"

Geralt sighed a deep one; looking away as he wanted to roll his eyes, "No. Only a demented person will think of having a Hirikka as a pet,"

"I'm not taking him as a pet," you countered and wholly turned your body to give him that puppy eyes of yours, "---I'm befriending the cutie!" with a point of your fingers, the Hirikka smiled another one; entirely benign to even begin with. You've seen the Hirikka blink cutely and wanted to do everything just for Geralt to say yes. If you would be staying in their world, you might as well find something entertaining to get your weariness by taking care of a Hirikka rather than staring at Jaskier who slept all night like a big baby.

"No, you're wanting him to be a pet," Geralt retorted with another sigh of vexation; emphasizing the word 'want'.

Another sally was sent, "You told me it was already endangered," pause. "---The poor little thing needs to be taken care of especially that he's all alone and so hungry. You don't want him dying in starvation, right?"

Geralt groaned to himself, closing his eyes to relax himself from telling you that monsters can't be kept as a pet nor taken care of because they knew how to take care of themselves. Yet, there you are; looking at him like what a Hirikka appeared to be like as you were trying to act pretty cute just to have what you wanted.

"Creatures wandering in our world should be left untouched. Not be taken as a pet," the latter seethed with his jaw clenching when he was met with your twinkling, hopeful eyes.

However, you weren't backing down that easily. "Come on! Even just until I'm here then you can let him go, please? please? please?"

His face was in the correct wrinkle of a wince like he was close to punching a wall. Geralt hardly exhaled and gave you a grimace; a look that could get your knees turn to jelly because of how sexy it looked like. You were definitely out of your mind for finding a scowl attractive from a witcher you hardly knew about.

"Fuck," his cursing seemed to be a definite affirmation for your request and his next words confirmed your hunches, "---Fine!" he gruffly exclaimed.

Thus, you beamed back at the witcher and jumped excitedly, giggling in the process and resisting yourself from hugging him tight, "---Just don't fucking starve the horseshit because you're definitely going to be his next meal,"

Geralt didn't actually mean that because Hirikkas don't eat people. Just plants, fruits and sometimes animals when its that time of the month or a full moon.

Despite of trying to threaten you and having the chance to back out from your wishes, your smile even grew wider if that was even possible; snapping your fingers to tell him that you had something in your weird mind. "I'm naming him Kolby!"

The Witcher's forehead creased more, mouth turning into a frown as he beseeched, "Why?"

"What do you mean why? One deserves a name even a stone!"

He turned his back away from you, shaking his head to open his back that was latched behind his horse, grabbing onto another fruit. It was a plum. He threw the fruit towards the awaiting Hirikka who was now closer within an arms reach and the Hirikka gladly accepted it with a loud wheeze, "I'm not an idiot to be naming a stone, Midget." he gave you the side-eye.

You raised an eyebrow back at him; your smile never seem to be fading since the moment you had with him back in Cuthbert's house, "Says the person who's dressed up in an all-black costume like he was out of an action role playing game,"

"It's an armor," Geralt shut his bag closed, mouth forming a thin line from your naivety and how you weren't taking his world seriously. His voice turned a pitch lower and utmost gravely, "You don't know how this world is filled with beasts, Midget."

He turned his booted heel to see you still smiling back at him. Geralt hummed out of his habit and abruptly pulled you to his solid chest. The uttermost close proximity letting your smile fall from the action. You gaped up at him in question, when he'd given you an answer filled with a touch as he gently held onto your hips and turned you around like you were his stuff toy.

"Now, jump." he rasped. Before you could even comprehend, he'd lifted you with no sweat and you were holding onto Roach's body with all your life. Half of your torso still hanging onto his horse as he haven't lifted you all the way.

"Geralt!" you shrieked, his horse utterly huge for you to jump on by yourself with Roach neighing in the background.

To the witcher's unfortunate position, he was inches away from your clothed bum. His eyes narrowed at what was shown to his face; his nose flared as he stared, turning his head to look away with a displeased hum and seeing the Hirikka judging him from the side.

He glared at the poor harmless monster as it looked like he was judging him for even looking.

They've both stared like they were having a competition before you frustratingly quipped and pulled your whole body to raise your leg to the other but finding that it was quite difficult, "Help me! But, don't touch my ass!"

Geralt gave the Hirikka a death stare before he'd touch your clothed thighs; intentionally avoiding the bare skin of your legs. You could feel him shooting daggers across your back with no reason you'd know and finally had your legs across the other side when he'd pushed you through it. Your face was all red and mellow because of the fact that you've uttered out loud for him to not touch your ass; which was sudden. He wouldn't dare to touch it because who even are you to tell that he wanted to?

Well, you do if it was the other way around. If the bum was....his.

But, he didn't need to know that you lowkey wanted to tap it. The secret should be left alone.

"I-I don't know how to ride a horse," you stumbled over your words from the embarrassment and thought he wouldn't also ride, yet you were surprised when you've felt him grunt from behind; feeling his presence and jumping on his horse as he held onto the halter from behind you.

"Oh," was the only word you could muster as you felt yourself be caged in his brawny arms. Your face started to become beet red as you've realized the meaning of your random thoughts that ran behind your head. Those thoughts that planned to keep you from sleeping all night with the painful reality of not being able to go home yet and probably even the face of a certain witcher that was making the butterflies run wild inside your stomach.

You've finally arrived in their home with Kolby following behind you and Geralt when you were riding his horse.

At the present moment, Kolby was standing before their wooden door. It was Geralt's idea to welcome Ciri and Jaskier for his presence as it would be the best gift for the bard as a token for his benevolence and for keeping their friendship in tact and strong still.

There were padded footsteps behind the door and a booming voice resonating from behind it before the door opened and creaked as Jaskier came into view as he went on and on with his talkative mouth, "Why, Geralt! Have you enjoyed your conquest with Y/N--!!" his words were cut short as he shrieked and jumped on his spot when he was welcomed by a Hirikka that he'd seen before but very much smaller and midget looking.

Jaskier's baby blue eyes were wanting to come out of his eye-sockets as he fell back on his knees. Hastily standing on his feet as Ciri emerged from the kitchen to look at the commotion happening on their doorstep. The bard violently pointed at the Hirikka who stepped foot inside with its doe eyes scanning the whole cavern. "---IT'S ONE OF YOUR FRIENDS AGAIN! I thought he'd already tasted its painful demise from that foolish knight years ago?!"

You and Geralt followed suit after Kolby did; giving Jaskier and Cirilla a guiltless smile while the witcher was smirking behind you; specifically entertained by Jaskier's bolt from the blue.

"What's that creature doing in our home, Geralt?!" the bard jogged away from the harmless monster with a proximate amount of space where as he was already in the far end of their house with that scandalizing frown on his pretty face. You gave the Hirikka a soft pat on the head; automatically leaning closer from your sweet touch and purring in a way he does.

"His name is Kolby!"

To say Jaskier was shocked isn't enough. He was beyond flabbergasted. Extremely floored. "It has a name?!"

The Hirikka's feet was waggling in sheer pleasure; like an animal who loved being pet on the head. Jaskier gave you both a look of pique from how normal it was for you to be petting a Hirikka when a normal person would've stabbed the life out of the monster. "You---You are simply bonkers, Y/N!" he stood rooted on the ground, never paying a chance to get close to the three of you.

Cirilla excitedly strolled to where you were, Her eyes gleaming with pure curiosity and fascination. "What is it?" she'd manage to ask as she stepped in to give you and Geralt a hug for being safe as you've arrived home.

The princess dropped her feeble arms around you and aimed to look at the monster who was shorter than her, studying the monster with a crease of her forehead and noting how adorable its eyes were.

"It's a Hirikka, princess." Geralt dearly answered for you as he gently closed the door behind and stepped inside their home. Cirilla gave him a look before she went on with more queries, "Does it bite?"

The witcher gave her a small beam for reassurance as he shook his head, "Utterly harmless. Just don't starve the poor fella',"

Jaskier gave a glout and inspected the whole scene before him. "Are you perhaps short of a marble?!?!?" the message was sent to you or maybe to Geralt and Ciri as well when he'd gestured with his arms like he was gesturing how long his patience were wearing down for the stuff happening and the changes occurring when you've arrived.

You gave Kolby a short set of your tutting but it was actually for the bard who was judging you from a distance; caressing the Hirikkas head as Ciri wholeheartedly did as well.

"There, there, Kolby. Don't be sad. Jaskier is just mean because he's just sexually frustrated,"

Jaskier was quick to retort, his hands now on his hips as he eyed you who had been downright offended by your opinions, "I AM CERTAINLY NOT!" he bellowed with a huff and a sassy eyebrow raising from your banter. The latter pointed at the witcher behind you who had his smirk raised more than he intended to. Jaskier's vexation towards the Hirikka completely entertaining him that he couldn't help but emit a low chuckle from behind that certainly caught your ear as it was the first time you've heard him laugh. Hence, it was like the angels sung for you, "THE WITCHER BEHIND YOU IS! NOT ME!"

"---Tell me, Geralt," The sonneteer fixated his blue eyes on the man behind you. A frown etched on Jaskier's face, "Were you against this idea that the rat wanted a Hirikka as a pet?!"

Geralt crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at the bard as he thought for a moment before giving him a mocking answer, "At first, yes."

"And now?"

The witcher kept his lips closed, just staring at the bard and trying not to smile back at him from how his mouth went completely ajar from his silence. Jaskier already knew what happened and what his answer is even though his question wasn't verbally answered by the man himself.

He knew Geralt wanted to smash. Maybe because he utmost needed it or not because you were just a woman with a vagina that could give him pleasure. There was something more for his hurried fondness for you. There was something more; deeper, greater and utterly unexplainable. Jaskier knew that the witcher had the hots for you as he was openly accepting what all you wanted and he wasn't just doomed because Ciri already had Geralt wrapped around her own finger with the fact that she was his child of surprise.

But, you weren't any child of surprise nor weren’t you a child. Though, you already had him wrapped around your own fingers by bringing home a Hirikka that he certainly doesn’t do ever in his life. 

"---Of course, she'd managed to control your overly deluded fondness for her and used it to her advantage!" It was like he sounded to cry out. You couldn't help but giggle from how he was dramatically crying like a baby as Ciri continued petting the Hirikka for you.

Jaskier exhaled a breath, loud enough for you to hear his denial about the whole Hirikka saving thing. He sent the witcher a glare full of aggravation, "I am utmost disappointed in you, Geralt!" and he shook his head as he pinched the bridge of his nose when he continued to wail like a kid.

"---Please tell me he's not sleeping beside me,"

Geralt hoarsely scoffed as it turned into a smile that appeared faultless. He nodded his head towards the Hirikka who shortly licked Ciri's face as he gestured for the tamed creature, "If I'd choose you between Roach to be noshed for his satiation, you know what my answer would be, bard."

Jaskier groaned to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose tighter and having a mental breakdown for meeting a Hirikka on their doorstep and even getting to live with one when he'd seen his species get killed by a knight and now it was going to sleep where he takes his nap. It was stressing him, everything is.

"Great, utterly great," he muttered with his eyes closed, one last sigh given as a sign of submission for everyone who stood before him.

PLEASE DO GIVE FEEDBACK WHEN YOU HAVE THE TIME, BB’S IF YOU LOVED IT! THANK YOU! LOVE YOU AND STAY SAFE!

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#geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia x y/n #geralt x you #witcher geralt #geralt #geralt x reader #geralt x y/n #jaskier #ciri #witcher cirilla #cirilla of cintra #the witcher #witcher #witcher jaskier #the witcher fic #witcher fic #geralt of rivia fic #geralt of rivia fluff #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher fanfic #the witcher fandom #white wolf #butcher of blaviken #geralt of rivia oneshot #witcher of the night #witcher of the night series #seb-owns-these-tatas #tatasworks

[isslibrary]

New Library Material  December 2018 - January 2019

Sorted by Call Number / Author.

220.5 H

Holy Bible : King James Version. Giant Print Standard Bible. U.S. : Christian Art Publishers, 2018.

220.5 H

The Holy Bible : Douay-Rheims version. [Catholic ed.]. Charlotte, N.C. : Saint Benedict Press, 2009.

221.5 O

The Old Testament : the King James version. New York : Alfred A. Knopf, 1996.

270.092 W

Westover, Tara, author. Educated: a memoir. First edition. Choose the good -- The midwife -- Cream shoes -- Apache women -- Honest dirt -- Shield and buckler -- The Lord will provide -- Tiny harlots -- Perfect in his generations -- Shield of feathers -- Instinct -- Fish eyes -- Silence in the churches -- My feet no longer touch Earth -- No more a child -- Disloyal man, disobedient heaven -- To keep it holy -- Blood and feathers -- In the beginning -- Recitals of the fathers -- Skullcap -- What we whispered and what we screamed -- I'm from Idaho -- A knight, errant -- The work of sulphur -- Waiting for moving water -- If I were a woman -- Pygmalion -- Graduation -- The hand of the almighty -- Tragedy then farce -- A brawling woman in a wide house -- Sorcery of physics -- The substance of things -- West of the sun -- Four long arms, whirling -- Gambling for redemption -- Family -- Watching the buffalo -- Educated. Tara Westover was seventeen the first time she set foot in a classroom. Born to survivalists in the mountains of Idaho, she prepared for the end of the world by stockpiling home-canned peaches and sleeping with her "head-for-the-hills bag." In the summer she stewed herbs for her mother, a midwife and healer, and in the winter she salvaged in her father's junkyard. Her father distrusted the medical establishment, so Tara never saw a doctor or nurse. Gashes and concussions, even burns from explosions, were all treated at home with herbalism. The family was so isolated from mainstream society that there was no one to ensure the children received an education, and no one to intervene when an older brother became violent. When another brother got himself into college and came back with news of the world beyond the mountain, Tara decided to try a new kind of life. She taught herself enough mathematics, grammar, and science to take the ACT and was admitted to Brigham Young University. There, she studied psychology, politics, philosophy, and history, learning for the first time about pivotal world events like the Holocaust and the Civil Rights Movement. Her quest for knowledge transformed her, taking her over oceans and across continents, to Harvard and to Cambridge University. Only then would she wonder if she'd traveled too far, if there was still a way home.

305 I

In Search of Stonewall: The Riots at 50 : The Gay & Lesbian Review at 25: Best Essays, 1994-2018. Boston: MA : G&LR Books, 2019.

305.896 B

Badkhen, Anna, 1976-. Walking with Abel : journeys with the nomads of the African savannah. "An intrepid journalist joins the planet's largest group of nomads on an annual migration that, like them, has endured for centuries. Anna Badkhen has forged a career chronicling life in extremis around the world, from war-torn Afghanistan to the border regions of the American Southwest. In Walking with Abel, she embeds herself with a family of Fulani cowboys--nomadic herders in Mali's Sahel grasslands--as they embark on their annual migration across the savanna. It's a cycle that connects the Fulani to their past even as their present is increasingly under threat--from Islamic militants, climate change, and the ever-encroaching urbanization that lures away their young. The Fulani, though, are no strangers to uncertainty--brilliantly resourceful and resilient, they've contended with famines, droughts, and wars for centuries. Dubbed "Anna Ba" by the nomads, who embrace her as one of theirs, Badkhen narrates the Fulani's journeys and her own with compassion and keen observation, transporting us from the Neolithic Sahara crisscrossed by rivers and abundant with wildlife to obelisk forests where the Fulani's Stone Age ancestors painted tributes to cattle. As they cross the Sahel, the savanna belt that stretches from the Indian Ocean to the Atlantic, they accompany themselves with Fulani music they download to their cell phones and tales of herders and hustlers, griots and holy men, infused with the myths the Fulani tell themselves to ground their past, make sense of their identity, and safeguard their--our--future"--. "An intrepid journalist joins the planet's largest group of nomads on an annual migration that, like them, has endured for centuries"--.

398.2 A

Abrahams, Roger D. African folktales. 1st ed. New York : Pantheon Books, c1983. Tales of wonder from the great ocean of story -- Stories to discuss and even argue about -- Tales of trickster and other ridiculous creatures: tales to entertain -- Tales in praise of great doings -- Making a way through life. A collection of 95 tales from the region south of of the Sahara Desert--stories from over 40 tribe-related myths of creation, tales of epic deeds, ghost stories and tales set in both the animal and human realms.

398.2 A

American Indian myths and legends. 1st paperback ed. New York : Pantheon Books, c1984. Rabbit boy kicked that blood clot around: tales of human creation -- The place of emergence: tales of world creation -- The eye of the great spirit: tales of the sun, moon, and stars -- Ordeals of the hero: monsters and monster slayers -- Counting coup: war and the warrior code -- The sound of flutes: tales of love and lust -- Coyote laughs and cries: trickster tales -- Four legs, two legs, and no legs: stories of animals and other people -- Something whistling in the night: ghosts and the spirit world -- Only the rocks and mountains last forever: visions of the end.

398.2 A

African American folktales : stories from Black traditions in the New World. New York : Pantheon Books, c1999.

398.2 C

Chinese fairy tales and fantasies. 1st ed. New York : Pantheon Books, 1979.

398.2 F

Favorite folktales from around the world. 1st paperback ed. New York : Pantheon Books, c1988.

398.2 F

Folktales from India : a selection of oral tales from twenty-two languages. First edition. Tell it to the walls / Tamil -- Untold stories / Gondi -- Gopal Bhar the star-counter / Bengali -- Bopoluchi / Punjabi -- The Jasmine Prince / Tamil -- Sona and Rupa / Hindi/Malwi -- Brother's day / Rajasthani -- The Brahman who swallowed a God / Bengali -- One man's virtue / Oriya -- A crow's revenge / Kannada -- A story in search of an audience / Telugu -- The clay mother-in-law / Kannada -- The barber and the Brahman demon / Benjali -- Why the fish laughed / Kashmiri -- A parrot called Hiraman / Bengali -- The monkey and the crocodile / Kannada; Tamil -- What happens when you really listen / Telugu -- Tenali Rama / Kannada; Tamil; Telugu -- How Tenali Rama became a Jester -- Tenali Rama's Ramayana -- Two sisters / Santali -- Sukhu and Dukhu / Bengali -- One, two, three / Santali -- The wife who refused to be beaten / Kashmiri -- The Ogress Queen / Kashmiri -- Killed by a tiger / Santali -- Outwitting fate / Tamil -- Four girls and a king / Punjabi. If it isn't you, it must be your father / Kannada -- Why audiences laugh or cry / Punjabi -- Akbar and Birbal ; The best of flowers ; Make it shorter ; Bring be four ; Sons-in-law / Urdu -- The night-blind son-in-law / Kannada -- Shall I show you my real face? / Tamil -- A malcontent cured / Kashmiri -- The kite's daughter / Assamese -- A flowering tree / Kannada -- A musical demon / Tamil -- Other lives / Kashmiri -- Living like a pig / Telugu -- A heron in the mouth / Bengali -- Tenali Rama's art / Kannada; Tamil; Telugu -- One more use for artists / Gujerati -- Heron boy / Tulu -- The tiger's adopted son / Didayi -- How to live on half a pice / Konkani -- The magic bowls / Tamil -- The four jogis / Santali -- A friend in need / Malayalam -- Winning a princess / Tulu -- Crossing a river, losing a self / Kannada; Tamil; Telugu -- Prince sabar / Gujerati. The lord of death / Punjabi -- The shepherd's ghost / Telugu -- This world and the other / Bengali -- If God is everywhere / Bengali -- A tiger that didn't know who he was / Bengali -- Gandharva Sen is dead! / Bengali -- Tenali Rama's dream / Telugu -- A feast in a dream / Rajasthani -- In search of a dream / Santali -- The princess whose father wanted to marry her / Tulu -- Mother marries son / Marathi -- A cure / Bengali -- A tall tale in Urdu / Urdu -- The greatest / Angami Naga -- A story for Sundays / Marathi -- Tenali Rama and the Brahmans / Kannada; Tamil; Telugu -- A hair's-breadth escape / Tamil -- Between two wives / Tamil -- The dead prince and the talking doll / Kannada -- The serpent mother / Gujerati -- Teja and Teji / Assamese -- The dove's egg: a chain tale / Malayalam -- A drum / Hindi -- In the kingdom of fools / Kannada -- Nonviolence / Bengali -- The barber's secret / Tamil. Gopal Bhar cures a dreamer / Benjali -- A scavenger's dream / Oriya -- The boy who sold wisdom / Gujerati -- Two jars of persian / Punjabi -- In another country / Punjabi -- One man's pleasure / Urdu -- Raja Vikram and the princess of China / Hindi -- Walking on water / Bengali -- The guru and the idiot / Telugu -- Grateful animals, ungrateful man / Hindi/Kumaoni -- When a black dog dies / Urdu -- The village rogue, the city rogue, and the king of rogues / Oriya -- A qazi with a long beard / Marathi -- The priest who could see as far as Mecca / Assamese -- Adventures of a disobedient son / Kannada -- Hanchi / Kannada -- Buffalo into rooster / Marathi -- The prince who married his own left half / Kannada -- A buffalo made of lac / Tamil -- A contest of lies / Hindi -- It's done with mirrors / Telugu -- The kurumba in the parrot's body / Kota -- The eighth key / Sindhi -- How the weaver went to heaven / Urdu. The tiger-makers / Kannada -- When a tale is finished / Oriya -- And then, Bhurrah! / Marathi. Collection of the oral tales compiled from a vast array of sources and translated from twenty-two languages of the country.

398.2 J

Japanese tales. 1st ed. New York : Pantheon Books, c1987.

398.2 L

Latin American folktales : stories from Hispanic and Indian traditions. 1st ed. New York : Pantheon Books, c2002. A collection of one hundred Latin American folk tales taken from the Hispanic and Indian traditions.

398.2 L

Legends and tales of the American West. 1st pbk. ed. New York : Pantheon Books, c1998.

398.2 R

Afanasʹev, A. N. (Aleksandr Nikolaevich), 1826-1871. Russian fairy tales. Pantheon Paperback: First Pantheon hardback ed. 1945; Second hardback Pantheon ed. 1975. New York : Pantheon Books, [1975?] c1945. A collection of the classic Russian folk and fairy tales.

812.54 R

Readings on A raisin in the sun. San Diego, CA : Greenhaven Press, c2001.

813.01 B

The best American short stories 2017. Presents a selection of the best works of short fiction of the past year from a variety of acclaimed sources.

813.01 B

Best American short stories 2018. Boston : Houghton Mifflin Harcourt pUBLISHERS, c. 2018.

813.01 O

100 years of The best American short stories. Collects forty short stories published between 1915 and 2015, from writers that include Ernest Hemingway, John Updike, and Alice Munro that exemplify their era and stand the test of time --.

821.008 G

Great short poems. Mineola, N.Y. : Dover Publications, 2000.

92 McD

McDonald, William C. The shadow tiger : Billy McDonald, Wingman to Chennault. Hardback Special Edition.

CD Mid

A Midsummer Night's Dream. Audiobook recording using the New Cambridge Shakespeare text, 1984; Unabridged. www.naxoaudiobooks.com : Naxos audioBooks with permission from Cambridge University Press, 1984.

DVD Bla

Blackboard jungle. Glenn Ford, Anne Francis, Louis Calhern, Margaret Hayes, Vic Morrow, Sidney Poitier. Urban drama about an idealistic teacher in a slum area who fights doggedly to connect with his unruly students. Based on Evan Hunter's novel.

DVD Cat

Cat on a hot tin roof. 2016. Blu-ray. Burbank, Calif. : Warner Home Video ;, [1999]. Side A. Standard presentation -- side B. Widescreen presentation. Elizabeth Taylor, Paul Newman, Burl Ives, Jack Carson, Judith Anderson, Madeleine Sherwood, Larry Gates, Vaughn Taylor. Brick, an alcoholic ex-football player, drinks his days away and resists the affections of his wife, Maggie. His reunion with his father, Big Daddy, who is dying of cancer, jogs a host of memories and revelations for both father and son.

DVD Def

The defiant ones. Letterboxed. Santa Monica, CA : MGM Home Entertainment, [2004]. Tony Curtis, Sidney Poitier, Theodore Bikel, Charles McGraw, Lon Chaney, King Donovan, Claude Akins, Lawrence Dobkin, Whit Bissell, Carl Switzer, Kevin Coughlin, Cara Williams. Two convicts escaping from a Southern work gang discover that they are bound together by an unbreakable iron chain and separated by a hatred for each other. But in order to elude capture they must overcome their hostility.

DVD Inv

Invasion of the body snatchers. Olive Signature; Blu-Ray 2018. Kevin McCarthy, Dana Wynter, Carolyn Jones. Filmy spores fall from space over San Francisco, and the city blossoms with beautiful new flora. People take the flowers home and as they sleep, the plants creep over them, devouring their bodies and stealing their identities--everything except their emotions, their uniqueness, their souls.

DVD Kis

Kiss me deadly. Blu-Ray Special Edition. [United States] : Criterion Collection, 2011. Ralph Meeker, Albert Dekker, Paul Stewart, Juano Hernandez, Wesley Addy; introducing Maxine Cooper, Cloris Leachman, Gaby Rodgers. "In an atomic adaptation of Mickey Spillane's novel, directed by Robert Aldrich, the good manners of the 1950s are blown to smithereens. Snarling private detective Mike Hammer's decision one dark, lonely night to pick up a hitchhiking woman sends him down some terrifying byways. Brazen and bleak, it's a film noir masterpiece and an essential piece of cold war paranoia. Featuring as nervy an ending as has ever been seen in American cinema."--Container.

DVD On

On the waterfront. Special ed. Culver City, CA : Columbia Pictures Corp. :, c2001. Start -- Returning Danny boy -- "Someone fell off the roof." -- Johnny Friendly -- Waterfront commission mugs -- How trigger locals work -- Designated stoolie -- Meeting adjourned -- Getting acquainted -- Lowdown on Terry -- Up on the roof -- Neighborhood saloon -- Wedding party -- Friendly warning -- Dropping a sling on Dugan -- Promise kept -- Terry & Father Barry -- Telling Edie the truth -- Talk of past favors -- "I coulda been a contender." -- At Edie's -- "Charlie's in trouble." -- Waiting for Big John -- Crime Commission hearing -- Pigeon for a pigeon -- "You're a cheap mug!" -- Labor vs. Union -- Finishing what he started. Marlon Brando, Karl Malden, Lee J. Cobb, Rod Steiger, Pat Henning, Leif Erickson, James Westerfield, Tony Galento, Tami Mauriello, John Hamilton, John Heldabrand, Rudy Bond, Don Blackman, Arthur Keegan, Abe Simon, Eva Marie Saint. Terry Malloy is a washed-up ex-prize fighter corrupted along with brother Charley at an early age by a ruthless Mob-connected union boss named Johnny Friendly, who runs the waterfront. Malloy is now an errand-boy for the union, while Charley (in return for a college education) is now a lawyer for them. Malloy assists in the killing of a longshoreman who was talking to the crime commission investigating the union. He soon meets the dead man's agonized sister, Edie Doyle, and has a change of mind. Activist priest Father Barry argues with Malloy about morality, responsibility, and doing the right thing. Malloy's guilt, his romantic feelings for Edie, and an assault on Father Barry overwhelm him and he turns informer. Malloy's defiant testimony before the commission leads to a climactic bloody battle that wrests the union from the boss' tenacious grasp.

DVD Pia

The piano lesson. Full screen Gold Crown collector's ed. Special features: Full screen presentation -- The making of "The piano lesson" -- An interview with August Wilson -- Language: English -- Subtitles: English. Charles S. Dutton, Alfre Woodard, Carl Gordon, Tommy Hollis, Lou Myers, Courtney B. Vance ... [and others]. August Wilson's Pulitzer Prize-winning tale of a family caught between their heritage and a dream for the future. The Charles family clashes over the fate of a magnificent, carved piano that carries their family's story from their days as slaves. Boy Willie wants to sell the piano to buy a farm--the same fields their family worked as slaves. But his sister, Berniece, refuses to part with it. For her, the piano is their very soul, a legacy of pride and struggle that symbolizes their survival as a family. To resolve the conflict they must first deal with the past.

DVD Por

Pork Chop Hill. Olive Films; Blu-Ray; 2015. California; U.S. : Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment/MGM Studios, [1999]. Gregory Peck, Harry Guardino, Rip Torn, George Peppard, James Edwards, Bob Steele, Woody Strode, George Shibata. Korean War film of a true tale of the desperate soldiers who finally take the top of Pork Chop Hill, only to find themselves surrounded by enemy forces.

DVD Reb

Rebel without a cause. Two-disc special ed., widescreen version. Burbank, CA : Warner Home Video, 2013. James Dean, Natalie Wood, Sal Mineo, Jim Backus, Ann Doran, Corey Allen, William Hopper, Rochelle Hudson, Dennis Hopper, Edward Platt, Steffi Sidney, Marietta Canty, Virginia Brissac, Beverly Long, Ian Wolfe, Frank Mazzola, Robert Foulk, Jack Simmons, Tom Bernard, Nick Adams, Jack Grinnage, Clifford Morris. Jim Stark, the teenage son of a well-to-do family, is overcome by loneliness, frustration and anger, which leads to violence when he seeks approval of a gang of high-school hoodlums.

DVD Viv

Viva Cuba. Fullscreen ed. [United States] : Film Movement, 2007. Mal©ð y Jorgito son dos ni©łos que se han prometido amistad para toda la vida, a pesar de que sus familias se detestan. Cuando la abuela de Mal©ð se muere y su mam©Ł decide irse a vivir fuera de Cuba, Mal©ð y Jorgito tendr©Łn que escaparse hasta el fin del mundo en busca de una esperanza para su amor. "Mal©ð is from an upper-class family and her single mother does not want her to play with Jorgito, as she thinks his background is coarse and commonplace. Jorgito's mother, a poor socialst proud of her family's social standing, places similar restrictions on her son. What neither woman recognizes is the immense strength of the bond between Mal©ð and Jorgito. When the children learn that Mal©ð's mother is planning to leave Cuba, they decide to run away and travel to the other side of the island to find Mal©ð's father and persuade him against signing the forms that would allow it"--Container.

F Cro

Near to the heart.

F Gre

Green, John, 1977- author. John Green : mini collection. v.1 - Fault in our stars -- v.2 - Looking for Alaska -- v.3 - Abundance of Katherines -- v.4 - Paper towns. Four beloved classics by John Green complete and unabridged. Penguin Minis' revolutionary landscape design and ultra-thin paper make them perfectly pocket-sized and easy to hold in one hand without sacrificing readility. -- slipcase. Fault in Our Stars. Despite the tumor-shrinking medical miracle that has bought her a few years, Hazel has never been anything but terminal, her final chapter inscribed upon diagnosis. But when a gorgeous plot twist named Augustus Waters suddenly appears at Cancer Kid Support Group, Hazels story is about to be completely rewritten. -- Amazon.com. Looking for Alaska. Before. Miles Halter is fascinated by famous last wordsand tired of his safe life at home. He leaves for Culver Creek boarding school to seek what the dying poet Frࣅois Rabelais called {28}The Great Perhaps. Abundance of Katherines. When it comes to relationships, Colin Singletons type is girls named Katherine. And when it comes to girls named Katherine, Colin is always getting dumped. Nineteen times, to be exact. On a road trip miles from home, this anagram-happy, washed-up child prodigy has ten thousand dollars in his pocket, a bloodthirsty feral hog on his trail, and an overweight, Judge Judyloving best friend riding shotgunbut no Katherines. Colin is on a mission to prove The Theorem of Underlying Katherine Predictability, which he hopes will predict the future of any relationship, avenge Dumpees everywhere, and finally win him the girl. Love, friendship, and a dead Austro-Hungarian archduke add up to surprising and heart-changing conclusions in this ingeniously layered comic novel about reinventing oneself. -- Amazon.com. Paper Towns. When Margo Roth Spiegelman beckons Quentin Jacobsen in the middle of the nightdressed like a ninja and plotting an ingenious campaign of revengehe follows her. Margos always planned extravagantly, and, until now, shes always planned solo. After a lifetime of loving Margo from afar, things are finally looking up for Q . . . until day breaks and she has vanished. Always an enigma, Margo has now become a mystery. But there are clues. And theyre for Q. -- Amazon.com.

F Wes

Michelle West. The Uncrowned King. New York, NY : DAW BOOKS, INC, 1998.

F Wes

West, Michelle, 1963-. The broken crown. New York : DAW Books, 1997. Treachery threatens the Dominion of Annagar as two power-hungry men--a skilled general and a sorcerer--seek to overthrow the clan of Leonne, whose control over the magic of the sun sword has kept the peace.

F Wes

West, Michelle, 1963-. The riven shield. New York : DAW Books, 2003.

F Wes

West, Michelle, 1963-. Sea of sorrows. New York, NY : DAW Books, c2001.

F Wes

West, Michelle, 1963-. The shining court. New York : DAW Books, 1999. The approaching Festival of the Moon could signal the ultimate triumph of the Shining Court, or humankind's final chance to defeat the powerful demon lord--Allasakar, Lord of the Hells.

F Wes

West, Michelle, 1963-. The sun sword. New York, N.Y. : DAW Books, 2004.

SC Ben

Bender, Karen E. The new order : stories. First hardcover edition.

SC D

Davis, Lydia, 1947-. The collected stories of Lydia Davis. 1st ed. New York : Farrar, Straus and Giroux, c2009.

SC Von

Vonnegut, Kurt. Welcome to the monkey house : a collection of short works. The special edition. A collection of twenty-five short works by the American author written between 1950 and 1968 and originally printed in a wide range of publications including "The Atlantic Monthly," "Esquire," and "Ladies' Home Journal.".