#must brave the thorns

[inexplicifics]

"Must Brave the Thorns" is actually one of the best-paced pieces of literature I've ever read. It's so mathematically satisfying - I can tell exactly where one arc has ended and the next begins, the b-plots are present but they never overwhelm the main story. Just... bravo, seriously.

*rolls around in beautiful compliment gleefully*

Thank you so much! I am extremely proud of Must Brave the Thorns, and I am so pleased that it is satisfying to read!

#questions answered #people being sweet to inex #must brave the thorns

[hold-me-witcher]

#the witcher #netflix the witcher #twn #witcher fanfiction #inexplicifics #poll #Witcher poll #accidental warlord au #awau #must brave the thorns #mbtt #I shall not live in vain #isnliv

[catscraftsandcommentary]

Julita insists that Aiden come to breakfast with them, and Marlene fusses over him until he’s eaten two bowls of porridge and a truly astonishing amount of bacon and half a dozen eggs. Milena has to suppress a smile as she watches; all of the wolfblood seem quite overawed by Marlene, and Aiden is no different, ducking his head like a boy in front of a stern teacher. Marlene tousles his hair affectionately before she bustles off to make sure the venison for lunch is being prepared correctly, and Aiden gives Milena a sheepish little smile. “We’d better hope no one ever sends cooks to conquer the wolfblood,” Zofia says wryly. “Oh, we’d surrender at once,” Aiden says, grin getting wider. “Have you seen what that woman can do to an onion?”

Modern AU where sweet little old ladies flag down passing witchers for help with, like, cleaning out their garage and rearranging all their furniture and repainting the house and then FEED THEM UNTIL THEY POP

Sweet little old ladies become VERY POPULAR

(Also, it's good to know that I could show up at Kaer Morhen, go "oops I baked" and no one would even BLINK at 120+ cookies. Which is about one batch, for me.)

Quote from @inexplicifics wonderful Must Brave The Thorns, which is an AU of the Accidental Warlord AU.

#the witcher #inexplicifics #must brave the thorns #there is a great southern tradition #which is basically #if you enter my house I'm going to feed you #especially if I have any fun new foods I think you'll like #I need to inflict this on as many witchers as possible

[witch-witcher-witchless]

I saw this and I immediately went huh okay, def something I can see Lambert do in his mating dance a wolfblood dance circle

#inexplicifics #Wolfblood #MBTT #The witcher #must brave the thorns #Lambert

[ephemeralbutterfly]

Chapters 3-6 of Must Brave the Thorns!

I’m back, and you all get 4 chapters at once! I kept working while waiting for the almost complete Chapter 3 file to be recovered. (Learn from my mistakes: if your computer says it needs to restart to fix a hard drive problem, back it up first.)

It looks like I’m not going to be able to do a chapter a week, but I’m still working on this and will get new chapters out as I can.

Here are the chapter links:

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

#must brave the thorns #must brave the thorns podcast #must brave the thorns podfic #mbtt

[wrenseyeview]

Work's getting busy again, which means New Hobby Time, because my brain doesn't want to focus on any existing to-do list.

Tbh, not bad for a couple hours of fucking around. That's going to be the finest level of detail I can do since that's the smallest bit on this old engraving tool I have, but a decent option for tracing out the shape and for detail work. I also desperately need to sharpen these chisels because they're okay out of the box for cutting with the grain of whatever this scrap framing wood is, but can't do shit in any other direction.

#woodcarving #inspiration for this one courtesy of the lovely must brave the thorns by inexplicifics

[xuanhttps]

⠀♩⠀⠀‿‿⠀⠀❀⠀⠀⠀﹒⠀⠀⠀꒷꒦⠀⠀⠀Ꮺ ֶָ۪ ⠀⠀⠀﹐ i will see your body bare

› in which ;; you will always be there.

› containing ;; azul ashengrotto, leona kingscholar, silver vanrouge , gn!reader (you/yours)

› disclaimer ;; not proofread and written at midnight, kinda songfic??? not rlly but i plaster mitski lyrics here and there bc im in love with her carnally

a treasury is not complete without a pearl — ashengrotto, azul.

he is dependant, even if he hides it. azul would rather eat octopus than admit to his dependancy on your love. someone as strong and independent as the ramshackle prefect would surely laugh at his desperation! he cannot be weak. surely. that is what he must be telling himself, you think as you pull his head closer to you. resting it inbetween your shoulder and neck as his eyes droop. after hours of managing the lounge, perhaps the big fish mafia boss needs his own break.

you lay him down in bed, not before taking off his blazer and hanging it on the chair. he lays down in your bed, although uncomfortable in theory the simple scent of that perfume schoenheit bought you will never fade. he sighs lovingly, gazing at your face which is just so.. responsible, taking care of him like this.

i will wash your hair at night, and dry it off with care.

other nights, the two of you bathe together in his dorm. your hair knitted in his curly, white locks as you massage the shampoo into his scalp, only looking at his face to avoid him feeling insecure, you know him so perfectly. it drives him crazy in love. he feels so safe, even with his body bare. with you, its as if the past 17 years of his life never occurred. all that matters is the soft caress of your fingers against his skin, the sweet words you whisper as you press kisses to his neck and back. how you promise to him, that he will always be your pearl.

you are the one thing i cannot lose — kingscholar, leona.

it should be considered unbecoming of him, to be so loving with you. to let you tangle your finger tips in his braids as you rub his ears as if he were a housecat. his grumbles go unnoticed, you both know how much he loves them. how he will always lean into your touch. how, for once, as embarrassing as it is.. he wishes for someone to fall back on. someone like you. the perfect, unstoppable prefect.

ever since his overblot, his eyes have been on you. the persistence you hold is something he wishes for. yet once he is in your lap, or you rest in his, that resolve turns to specks of sand in afterglow savannah. he could be stripped of his royal title, and he would still dismiss it if it meant feeling your hands graze over his skin. or seeing the ways in which your expressions change with your mood.

cause' all I ever wanted is here, all i ever wanted.

right. he could shed tears when he remembers how dear he is to you. what did he do to deserve this? a second place player, a second place prince. always second place. why is he first to you? is it pity? he should be enraged. he should growl and remind you that he is far from weak. yet, he melts into you like cotton candy in the rain. hes weak for you, youre weak for him.

i see your smile in my dreams — vanrouge, silver

he wishes to see more of you. with you, more than ever, silver wishes his narcolepsy could just disappear. silver is abundantly aware of how much he misses, your smile and your voice.. how much more he could see them, how much more he would hear them. how addicting it would be, like a drug that only brings fortune. silver wishes he could protect you from the forsaken world you are trapped in. yet despite that, he knows you are strong. silver cannot help but look up to you, you who will always be the strongest person in his heart.

so by the time you wake, ill be brave.

he rests his head in your lap, like a child longing for the embrace of a parent. the experience carries a scent of childhood, if such a thing may be described. like a warmth enveloping the two of you. thorns in your side wither into dust when he is near. his eyes glimmer like stars fallen to the sand, a long walk barefoot with the grains against your feet and the wind passing by like time being a dream silver finds hopeful. perhaps in another world, he could stay awake to see your face much longer. should he be blind to such a rejuvenating sight, silver will drown in the sensation of your touch like a diver at sea. he may never return, if you leave he may never be the same. for, his home lies in your heart alone.

#🌀 ;; xuanhttps #twst x reader #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #silver twst #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #silver twst x reader #x gn!reader #x reader #fluff?? #im so tired but i finally finished this yay #thinkinf of othervideas

[thebadboyfanclub]

Will You Teach Me? (Jacaerys x Reader)

Oh I’m on fire! Ok so I think I’m getting my groove back and I’m actually really proud of this one cause it’s been a while since I’ve written something that is so fluff and I hope you guys enjoy it too!

-

(Y/n) Starks name and legend were one that the starks would always bring up when it came to honor and loyalty, the first of their house to have the crown of the seven kingdoms placed on her head, she was two years older than her lord husband Jacaerys and excellent at the art of archery, “the kind she-wolf” was the name that the realm bestowed to her.

Princess (y/n) was the one that had urged Rhaenyra to protect Jacaerys claim, the greens might have been able to digest their defeat but like snakes (y/n) had guessed that they were just waiting for their turn, raising banners to come and swear to protect Jacaerys claim and promising her daughter to the Reach, her eldest son to the daughter of Baela Velaryon and her youngest son to the daughter of the lord of Arryn, ensuring that everyone else beneath them would follow.

The mutual respect and love Queen Rhaenyra shared with Lady Stark was well known in history, they were many witnesses on the morrow that (y/n) brought her second born child to present it to the queen and informed her that the couple has decided to name her Rhaenyra, with tears in her eyes the queen hugged her son and good daughter and thanked them for such a generous gift.

As Princess Rhaenyra was hastily made queen before her dearest father passed, he had commanded to let her take the throne so he could watch his firstborn rule better than he ever could, in reality, he feared what would happen if he passed, as much as he trusted Otto with certain affairs the matter of Rhaenyras realm was delicate and having a queen for the very first time had to be handled with utmost care.

The lady (y/n) had attended the coronation along with her brother Cregan, she had bowed before the new queen with a smile of admiration on her lips, Rhaenyra had seen the girl before, she was a little girl back then but she could recall how well she and Jacaerys had played in the garden, back then (y/n) was wearing a light pink dress that had gotten caught on some type of thorn and Jacaerys patiently worked around the fabric to free her.

“It is an honor to stand before you, my queen”

“You are very sweet, you have grown so much since we saw you last, you are already so beautiful”

“I am trying to catch up to our queen I suppose”

“I hope you remember my son, Prince Jacaerys”

“How could I forget?”

It was the first time that (y/n) broke eye contact and looked at the floor, her cheeks were already a tad rosy and after Jacaerys took a step towards her it grew closer to the color of a tomato. Jacaerys cleared his throat before he took the lady’s hand and placed a subtle kiss on her knuckles.

“My lady”

That was when Queen Rhaenyras's eyes met with Cregans and they both nodded in unison, any person with good vision could see what was happening here, the pair had grown into their comely selves and with brave heart, still, the jitters of the first heartbeat took them over like a storm.

“It is not often that we have the pleasure to have the guardians of the north in our court, may I suggest you stay for another morrow or two”

“I am afraid I must go back and tend to my duties, however, my sister can stay, if that is something that she wishes”

“Can I brother?”

“It is settled then, Jacaerys please escort the lady to all of our available chambers, let her have her pick”

“You are so generous my queen, I must thank you”

(Y/n) bowed again before mother and son, Jacaerys only turned his gaze to his mother and closed his eyes briefly, he mustn’t say anything else, a mother knows when her son is compelled by the eyes and the smile of a woman.

“Go now”

“Right away, my queen”

Jacaerys jested and instinctively took (y/n) 's hand to scurry away, as they walked away as fast as they could without causing trouble Cregan and Rhaenyra watched disappear to the crowd, Cregan adored his youngest sister and Rhaenyra held such undeniable love for her eldest son, the first fruit of her love with Ser Harwin.

“You promise to take care of her?”

“As she was my own, well technically she will be my good daughter, do you promise that she won’t murder my son in his sleep?”

“Unfortunately I cannot, one time she threw a rock at the back of my horse so I would be knocked off because she wanted it”

“Then she will make the perfect queen”

-

(Y/n) had been nervous to attend supper with the Targaryens, her betrothal with Prince Jacaerys had just been announced and so many decisions had to be made, she must be perfect so she can honor her house.

“It is such a blessed day, my grandson is to be married to the lady Stark, a wonderful match that will bond our houses for reigns to come, let us drink to love”

“You do know how the act is done right? Do not sweat I shall be there to watch it all happen I can even happily replace you if you cannot rise to the occasion”

“You can be as nasty to me as you wish,  but hold your tongue in front of my betrothed”

(Y/n) was thankful for the hushed lash back of Jacaerys, Prince Aegon thought himself to be clever with such remarks ever since she stepped foot at court, his gawking made her uncomfortable and now she found herself squeamish of such behavior.

(Y/n) turned her attention to Jacaerys and mouthed a thank you to which Jacaerys responded with a smile and reached for her hand for the gentlest of touches, as the morrows passed the couple was growing their bond little by little, learning new things about one another and spending hours talking about anything they could think about.

As the supper went on smoothly, laughter and chatter filled the room, Jacaerys had left (y/n) side for only a moment so he could entertain his niece Heleana, a timid girl who seemed to keep to her own, (y/n) did not mind, on the contrary, she watched as they messed around and danced, all she could see was how endearing her betrothed prince was.

“I would also like to raise a toast”

“Aemond” Alicent pleaded

“To the health of my nephew Jacaerys, may he grow old and wise in his wedlock, and to the lady of the hour, (y/n), it is not common for such beast as a wolf to have the honor to exist next to a dragon”

“You are vile”

“Why? ‘‘Twas only a compliment, I thought starts took pride in being loyal dogs to their master”

That was enough for Jacaerys to lash out like never before, landing a punch to the eyed prince's face and Aemond responding with a shove, everything else happened in a blink of an eye and Aegon had pushed Lucerys head on the table, (y/n) felt like this was the best time to finally have a go at him and with all her might shoved the silver head drunken fool off the poor boy, when he took a step to attack her (y/n) grabbed a knife that was laying on the table and pointed it at Aegon.

“Come on you low life, let us have it then”

“Wait! Wait”

Daemon was heard in close range, causing the ruckus to stop, (y/n) remained still, she did not trust Aegon enough to give up, a man of his…ways would probably not play fair enough for her to give up her weapon or turn her back on him.

“Go to your chambers, all of you”

Still, (y/n) waited. Aegon eyes were fixated on her with an evil grin, (y/n) held on to appear poised and courageous but her breath was ragged and uneven, she was almost shaking from the sudden rush of emotions, it was only when queen Rhaenyra stuck her hand out with the palm up towards the princess that (y/n) glanced away from him.

“(Y/n)”

Her tone was steady and warning, yet with a touch of softness to reassure her that (y/n) would be safe if she gave away her knife. (Y/n) exhaled deeply and let the knife rest on Rhaenyras hand, at that moment it was when she heard footsteps and turned just in time to watch Jacaerys walk out of the room.

“Go on”

Rhaenyra could read the concern on the lady's face like an open book, (y/n) cared for her son and that brought her comfort, she was ready to harm a prince to protect her good brother, and loyalty ran through her veins, a trait that many lacked.

(Y/n) curtsied swiftly and then shuffled away, as she went up the stairs one after the other she thought over what she shall do, mayhaps the prince wished for some time alone, but on the other side, the comfort one gets from a pair of arms wrapped around you is the remedy to most wounds.

For a few moments, the lady paced in front of his door like she was guarding it until a young chambermaid approached with a wooden bucket.

“My lady, are you alright?”

“Yes I am fine, what is that?”

“The prince has requested more hot water for his bath”

“Oh, give it to me”

“My lady, are you sure”

“Do not fret over it, you may go”

The young girl handed the bucket over and walked away, without thinking over it she knocked on the door a few times only to be met with a man this time.

“My lady, the prince is bathing”

“I am aware, you may go as well”

“My lady-“

“What is it Alfred?”

Jacaerys questioned from inside. (Y/n) did not allow herself to think over this, she stepped into the room and was met with Jacaerys sitting in a tub, his arms spread on the side and the water was so hot that steam came out of it.

She swallowed down the lump in her throat as she stood there, bucket in hand and her lips merely moved halfway up to show some type of an extremely awkward smile.

“Leave us”

Jacaerys simply said. (Y/n) found it quite interesting that when they talked to her they questioned her motives, but for Jacaerys it only took two words for them to literally disappear. As the door closed behind silence overtook them, (y/n) walked closer and leaned down very slightly so she could tilt the bucket over and let the water run without splashing.

“Thank you”

“The water might burn your skin off”

“It helps after sword practice, it is often that my legs ache”

“May I?”

She interrupted him whilst she showed him the sponge, insinuating if she was allowed to scrub him with it. Jacaerys nodded and (y/n) sat on her knees before she dunked the sponge in the soap and let it touch the prince's skin.

Jacaerys skin glistened under the candlelight, (y/n) was holding on to any decency she had to not drool over the prince, as the muscles on his chest seemed to be carved onto him the lady guessed what the rest of his body looked like, his arms also had the appearance like they were drawn to perfection, as the sponge was the only thing that kept her from gracing his skin she let her mind run off to the idea of what it would feel like when he would pull her close.

“Thank you, for defending me”

“You are to be my lady wife, I will always be there to defend you, my nephew had it coming, I should be the one thanking you for protecting my brother”

“As much as I do not wish to see Lucerys get hurt a part of my motive was that I have been praying for a time were I can put my hands on Aegon”

Jacaerys cackled at the little remark of hers, seeing her wash over his skin so gently and how her eyes sparkled was something he did not know he needed, as the lady rose and took a cup that was there she then let her hand touch the top of his forehead before she let the water run on his long hair.

“You are far more careful than the servants”

“I shall hope so, when the time comes I wish for us to not need them for such affairs”

“Is that your way of admitting you’ve been dreaming of seeing me in such a state?”

“No, no my prince, I would”

“You are quite the sight when you get flustered do you know that”

A devilish snicker escaped Jacaerys lips while (y/n) placed her hands on her hips in defense while she pouted, Jacaerys could watch her furrowed eyebrows with pursed lips all day, like a child that was denied cake.

“Ah my eye”

“That is what you get”

(Y/n) reported in triumph after she let the soapy water run over his eyes causing the sting that everyone hates, Jacaerys shook his head in defeat in the meantime he let his head hang back and relaxed his shoulders, as he recalled her childish demeanor he caught himself thinking about having a daughter, dark long hair and piercing eyes that would pout just like her mother, oh how whipped would he be for that little girl.

“If I’m being frank I always wondered what it would be like to run a brush over those locks”

“I like to braid my hair before I sleep, my mother used to say it helped with keeping it neat, she would always make one thick braid in the middle of my head”

“Seems simple enough, will you teach me?”

“Gladly”

Instinctively (y/n) bends down and lets a kiss in the middle of the princess's head. The second she did it her eyes went as wide as they could, her torso snapped straight back and her hand went up to her mouth to hide her gaping lips.

Jacaerys was also taken aback and had followed her on the small gasp of surprise but seeing her so shocked over such a simple matter made him giggle once again, her cheeks turning rosy as he continued to laugh, seeing her in such distress over such a small act was rather amusing.

(y/n) always strived to portray herself as strong and untouchable by anything, being able to view her acting so delicate and sweet made him feel special like he was being let in on this secret world of hers, it made Jacaerys wonder what else would he be able to discover as the years would progress.

“I apologize, I should go”

“No, what is the problem? It was only a kiss, I promise I won’t tell a soul, besides, I need help rinsing, dearest”

Jacaerys had held her by the hand to not let her walk away, as he finished his sentence it was his turn to show his affection by leaving a kiss on her knuckles, the lady bit her lip as she thought over what to do, alas the little voice in her head that pushed her to stay won and (y/n) walked back to her original spot to a prince that grinned from ear to ear.

Jacaerys enjoyed being pampered, as the firstborn son his duties knocked on his doorstep when he was far too young, he never complained though, he yearned to make his mother proud, but there was no harm in indulging in (y/n) 's soft touch.

“It might not be the right time though I was hoping we could discuss something”

“Anything you want”

“I know we have not declared when we shall be wed, however, I wanted to express my concern over a certain part of it”

“Do not worry about anything, no matter what it is it shall be yours”

“It is not a thing I desire, I am afraid it is more complicated”

“Then what is it?”

“I do not wish to have a bedding ceremony”

She blurted out, her movements came to a halt as Jacaerys closed eyes opened to meet hers, (y/n) had kneeled to his eye level so it was not hard for him to stare right out her, her expression showed a hint of fear and a pang of guilt struck him right in the middle of his chest.

“I should have known”

“A public one is what I do not want, my septa has informed me about my wifely duties so I will not resist the ceremony as a whole, I am more than willing to give you children it is just the fact that-“

“You mustn’t explain yourself, I had just completely forgotten about that part since I’ve thankfully never attended to one”

“I understand it is tradition, however, I thought since your mother is the queen and if she agrees we can overlook it”

“The ceremony won’t take place, at all if that makes you happy, I will not start our wedlock by letting everyone see us like that”

(Y/n)s frown quickly turned back to a beam of pleasure, her eyes shining with hope. (Y/n) dreaded the moment ever since she found out about it, to be naked in front of numerous people and let them see her lord husband- no, no, no just the idea made her shiver.

Jacaerys had been honest when he said that he had forgotten about it he could not have been more sincere, he had the arrogance of a man since a ceremony of that nature would not fall heavy on his shoulders as much as if he had been the lady, of course, it is not as nice as a walk on a warm day but being intimate with your lady wife was something sacred.

That time he reached for her hand again, their faces inches away from one another and all one could hear was their deep and shallow breaths along with a few drops of water as Jacaerys remained completely still, (y/n) saw his other hand that extended over to neatly tuck her hair behind her ear before his fingertips casually followed along the line of her chin, his touch was hot and damp though (y/n) felt it was perfect.

For the briefest of moments (y/n) dared to imagine what their future would be like, Jacaerys with grey hair and wrinkles around his eyes bouncing their grandchildren on his lap as they drank tea in the garden, one thing that she could not deny was that amid chaos and the burden of the crown, Jacaerys was her peace, the comfortable silence amongst mindless chatter.

“When I was younger I asked my mother when I have a wife, knowing my mother had lost her first husband, she told me that when I feel like my heart will come out of my throat and when I would be willing to get on my dragon to bring the stars to her”

“I do not-”

“I will bring you the moon if that is what you long for”

“I long for love, honor, and respect”

“Promise me you will never shy away from speaking your mind to me”

“Careful, my brother would advise you to take your words back”

“I quite enjoy your blabbering, your voice is like a song of angels”

Requests are open!

#jacaerys velaryon fic #jacaerys velaryon x you #jacaerys velaryon headcanon #jacaerys velaryon imagine #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys x you #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen imagine #jacaerys targaryen #prince jacaerys #jacaerys x y/n #jacaerys x oc #jacaerys strong #hotd jacaerys #hotd fanfic #hotd imagine #hotd #hotd fic #hotd x reader #house of the dragon #Spotify

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Lilia Vanrouge - Platinum Jacket Vignette

"Happy 100th Anniversary"

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Lilia: Seeing all these paintings on display, unchanging from when they were painted hundreds of years ago… it sure does bring me joy.

Lilia: Ooh, that painting over there is of the Thorn Fairy's men!

???: The Thorn Fairy's men, huh… Were they really that strong?

Lilia: Epel, so you were checking out this painting too. Are you curious about them?

Epel: Ah, yes! I was thinking they're rather head-empty lookin'… I mean, they look real sweet!

Lilia: Mhm, they are adorable. And despite that, they would always be carrying their weapons so as to respond to the Thorn Fairy's whims immediately.

Lilia: That means they must have been wonderfully loyal and brave soldiers.

Epel: I see… They don't really look like it, but when you put it that way, I can kinda see how cool they are, I guess?

Lilia: Right, right? And it just goes to show how great the Thorn Fairy was to be able to command such men.

Epel: Aren't they just following her because they've pledged loyalty to her?

Lilia: You should take a good look at this picture. See how they're all just filled with character?

Lilia: It's actually extremely difficult to folks like them in line. Isn't it the same with the students in our school?

Lilia: Everyone's so self-confident, they just do as they please. Those that actually listen to others, or follow orders are actually in the minority.

Epel: Ahaha… I'm getting what you're saying, I think.

Epel: Now I wonder how the Thorn Fairy was able to keep her men in line, then.

Lilia: Kufufu… You're a student of Night Raven College, you should already understand.

Lilia: You get them to understand just who is in charge by a show of force! It's the simplest method.

Epel: True… So that basically means that her men followed her because she was super strong.

Lilia: Mhm. But even so, a show of force won't be able to garner true loyalty.

Lilia: The most important thing when leading a legion is to build a trusting relationship with your men.

Lilia: Trust can't just be achieved overnight. I'm sure the Thorn Fairy put in a lot of effort to get to this point, too.

Epel: "Build a trusting relationship," huh… How would you do it if it was you, Lilia-san?

Lilia: THE BEST WAY IS TO SHARE A MEAL TOGETHER!

Lilia: I've actually served meals to the other Diasomnia students, hand-made by me.

Lilia: Everyone was so moved that they were utterly speechless. They couldn't even bring themselves to touch it.

Lilia: When they finally ate it, there was a whole range of reactions, including some who laid themselves out on the dining table, or those who covered their face with their hands. There were some who even burst into tears.

Epel: Wow, your cooking must be amazing!

Lilia: Mhm! Once I set my hand to it, I can make any petulant kid fall in line.

Lilia: Ever since then, I've tried to make more home-cooked meals to try to deepen the relationship between our dormmates…

Lilia: But they would all band together, saying they don't want to trouble me. They're all such humble boys.

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Lilia: This is a painting of the Sorcerer of the Sand's companion. His red and blue feathers are bright and vibrant.

Epel: Kinda unusual to have a parrot as a sidekick, huh.

Lilia: Mhm. However, this parrot is said to be able to perfectly imitate human voices and speech.

Lilia: I'm sure that alone was something of use to the Sorcerer of the Sands.

Lilia: Ahh～ how envious. I wish I had a special ability to do something like that.

Epel: Would there even be something worth changing voices for?

Lilia: There's a lot to choose from. The best way to use it would be…

Lilia: FOR A VIRTUAL AVATAR STREAM!

Epel: A virtual avatar stream…? What is that?

Lilia: Oh what, you don't know? Basically, people create avatars that represents them on the internet…

Lilia: And they use those avatars to promote their content of food reviews and let's plays of video games.

Lilia: I didn't know myself, until one of my online gaming buddies recommended it to me…

Lilia: But I think it would be cool to use an avatar to become a different person and chat away with my viewers.

Lilia: Don't you think it would be fun to see my cute little self stream videos in an avatar of a big, strong, burly man?

Epel: Does that mean… I could be strong and burly on the internet, too!?

Lilia: Oh, are you interested too, Epel? Then we should collaborate and both become buff streamers!

Epel: That could be fun! Oh, so this is what you were talking about when you said you wanted to change your voice to become another person?

Lilia: That's right. Normally, you'd need a voice changer to change your voice.

Lilia: But that is just a whole different hassle to deal with. Sounds like there's no end to the amount of equipment you might end up needing for it

Lilia: I keep thinking I'll ask my online gaming buddies who might know more about it, but I get so absorbed by our quest that I keep forgetting.

Lilia: I'd sure love it if I got super popular and was drowning in likes, subscribes, and superchats.

Epel: I don't really get it, but… I think it's fun to think about becoming someone you really want to be!

Lilia: Right? Although, I do have a wonderful voice, you know… It could be a terrible shame to hide it with a voice changer.

Lilia: And if I'm going to use my velvet voice, I guess my avatar should be good-looking to fit…

Lilia: But if I do that, then it wouldn't be much different than my real self… Hrrrm, what to do?

Lilia: Ah…! Does that mean streaming with my real face would be on the table too…!?

Lilia: If I did that, I wouldn't need a voice changer, or the ability to imitate voices. That might be the quick and easy way to solve it.

Epel: Eh, what happened to collaborating with each other using buff avatars!?

Lilia: Oh, right! Ah, I'm getting forgetful in my old age.

Lilia: Maybe I could have two different avatars? Kufufu, this is starting to tickle my want for a new kind of challenge again.

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Lilia: This old woman… This is the Fairest Queen in disguise. This painting depicts the scene where she is handing an apple to a princess.

Lilia: Maybe you're more familiar with this painting than I, since you're a student in Pomefiore?

Epel: In the Shaftlands, there is a well-known story about how the Fairest Queen donned a disguise in order to hide her identity.

Epel: I think Vil-san was saying that there's actually a lot of different interpretations for why, but…

Epel: I wonder why the Fairest Queen chose to disguise herself as an old woman?

Epel: If she was just trying to hide her identity, she could have also just chosen a cool and ripped figure…

Lilia: Perhaps she didn't want to frighten the princess. A muscular physique can be overpowering sometimes…

Lilia: And if she is too beautiful, she would also be difficult to approach. So, maybe that's why she thought an old woman would be a good choice?

Epel: Hmmm. I never even thought about how it'd be hard to approach someone because they're "too beautiful."

Lilia: Well, that makes sense for you. Nevertheless, human thought process is both inconsistent and interesting.

Lilia: To tell you the truth, even I had a time in my life where which people would only stare from a safe distance…

Lilia: But then during my travels, sometimes I would get random freebies at markets by people who thought me just a "cute little boy."

Lilia: That's when I realized for the first time, that I AM SUPER CUTE!!

Lilia: Ever since then, I've made it a point to share my cute charm with everyone as much as possible.

Lilia: I'd get things like free carriage rides, or steep discounts while shopping… You do it too, don't you, Epel?

Epel: I don't!! Although, yeah, I have gotten free snacks while running errands before, sure, but…

Lilia: So you're able to reap the benefits without actually showing off…! Mhm, I still have much to learn.

Lilia: But don't count me out yet. Like, even after enrolling at Night Raven College…

Lilia: I'd have classmates who'd save me a seat in the cafeteria, or carry heavy luggage for me…

Lilia: Everyone was just fawning over me ☆

Epel: That's… Aren't they just mocking you, though!? It's like they're looking down on you, I'd never let that pass.

Lilia: Kufufu, you still have a lot to learn, too. There's no harm in using what's available to you.

Lilia: But that is all old news, anyway. The longer I've spent time on campus, the more people have learned the extent of my abilities.

Lilia: There were times that I've completely shut down students from other dorms who lazily tried to pick fights with me, too…

Lilia: By the next semester, everyone was treating me completely different.

Lilia: Now, I'm stuck as "Reliable Lilia-san." And I really just wanted to settle into the role as the "Cute Little Brother."

Epel: That means they all recognized you for your abilities, right? Lilia-san, you're so cool!

Lilia: Kufufu, my cuteness is supposed to be my selling point, but I guess it's not bad to be called cool, neither.

Epel: No way, being cool is much better! It's great to hear a story like that of what could be.

Epel: …Ah, it's gotten pretty late. I'm going to start checking out other exhibits.

Lilia: Mhm, see you. Okay, since Epel has wandered off, I think I'll just meander a bit… Hm?

Lilia: Oh this… This is a painting of fairies gifting blessing to a princess. Heh. I can't help but chuckle every time I see this painting.

Lilia: If they were to gift her blessings of happiness, then they should have gifted her the strength to break her own curse. And yet…

Lilia: They chose to give her beautiful looks, and a beautiful singing voice. What fools

Requested by Anonymous.

#twisted wonderland #twst #lilia vanrouge #epel felmier #twst lilia #twst epel #twst translation #twst birthday #mention: vil

[the-californicationist]

Guile & Guilt (Ch. 09)

Soap/Reader - MDNI/18+ AO3 Link

WEDNESDAY — Evening: 2 days until the wedding

The worst part was the pretending. You thought that you’d be in the most pain when you were alone, sobbing in your room, clutching Marlowe like a comfort stuffie, but that wasn’t it. The hardest thing, actually, was smiling when you should be smiling. 

No, the hardest thing was staring down at his bed and knowing you had to sleep in it because why shouldn’t you sleep in it? What reason could you tell her that you weren’t able to climb into his sheets and smell his scent in your nose again?

You couldn’t tell her that the softness of his Rangers jersey felt like thorns to you now. You couldn’t tell her why you’d prefer to sleep on the couch, the floor, outside — anywhere but his bed. No. You had to smile, and it needed to be believable. It couldn’t be a masked grimace through tears like you’d been using to get back and forth from the coffee shop and your bed, unable to even make yourself a boiled egg. 

You’d come down, as planned, for the rehearsal dinner tomorrow night, and the real kicker — the stake that just twisted right into your heart — was that Johnny and his whole team would be down, too. Of course all the hotels (of which there were one) and the bed and breakfasts were booked solid. So, they’d all just crash here, as usual. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing except for you. 

You were anything but ordinary. You were desperate for some sort of relief from the pain in your chest. Every time you looked down at your phone, you felt it. You ignored the 47 missed calls and the countless text messages, keeping it on silent no matter what. You’d gotten calls from him, from all of his friends, even one from Ghost. You didn’t return them. You thought he had even come to your door one night, but you didn’t answer it. You couldn’t. All you could do was tell yourself to breathe, to eat, to shower, and to make it to the next hour in one piece so you could get through this wedding without falling the fuck apart. 

“You all set in here, babe?” Pidge asked behind you, watching you stare down at the empty bed, “Johnny’ll be here in just a bit so be sure to claim the good side before he does.”

She laughed. You laughed. You sounded crazy. 

“Makin’ your favorite tonight. Chicken tikka,” she was talking to you like a parent talks to a child when they know something is wrong but are determined not to pry. 

“Thanks, Pidge. I’ll come help in a moment.”

“Alright,” she smiled again and shut the door. 

You dropped your bag and waited what you assumed was a normal amount of time before heading out into the kitchen, a brave mask on in place of your face.

She set you to work after you washed your hands, and you were grateful for it. Pidge was talking for you, retracing her steps from her hen do, telling you the parts she couldn’t remember. It was as if everything she’d said to Johnny had just disappeared into thin air, and you wondered how much of that was by choice or by accident. She didn’t even remember you getting a cab. 

Now, she was gushing about how amazing her photographer was, and how he was coming down for the walkthrough. You nodded when you needed to nod; you smiled when you needed to smile. 

“...told him you’d stand in for me at the altar.”

“What?” You’d missed something important. 

“The photographer needs to shoot Hamish and I, but we cannae be at the altar until our wedding, obvi, so I told him you and Lachlan would be the stag and hen for that practice shoot. Is that alright?” She was looking at you like she’d made a mistake. 

You shook your head,

“Yeah, yeah. That’s fine. No problem. Whatever you need me to do.”

The front door creaked open and you almost dropped the saucepan onto the floor. 

“Pidge?” His voice called through the house. 

“In the kitchen!” She called back. 

You stirred the sauce. 

He must have been staring at you because Pidge made a comment,

“We’re doing chicken tikka. It’s her fav, and I thought she deserved it after what I put her through last weekend.”

“Aye,” his tone was odd, “I’ll go drop my bag. The lads are on their way in.”

You could tell he left the room. It was as if your body could sense it somehow. You wondered if he was staring at the bed. You wondered if it would feel like thorns for him, too. 

Why would it? 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You screamed inside of your mind. Get it together. 

You stirred the sauce. It was the only thing you could do. If someone had tried to take the pan from you, you might have smacked them with it. 

Hamish came up beside you with the cream,

“Ready for me?”

“Sure,” you held your spoon away so he could pour it in. 

“Smells great. Go sit, lass. I poured you a wine. I’ll make your wee plate.”

You smiled at Hamish and marched yourself over to the table. Price came in and saw you sitting there, and after he said hello to Ham and Pidge, he sat next to you in some sort of act of mercy. Hamish poured him a wine as well and they caught up. Small talk. Just the weather. You performed your vanishing act, becoming invisible. 

Until you weren’t. 

His eyes bored into you from the hallway as he made his way into the kitchen. He was forced to sit all the way at the other end of the table, as far from you as he could be, next to Gaz and Ghost. 

Everyone was chatting, drinking, eating. And you worked hard to be unseen. But, he just kept staring. You felt his eyes when you took a bite, when you dropped your fork, when you wiped your mouth… he may as well have been pinning you down with his huge hands; you were so scrutinized. You felt like you were being dissected, a frog on a student’s desk, your heart plucked out for examination. 

What was he looking for? Forgiveness? Wrath? You didn’t know, and you didn’t want to guess. You wanted to melt into the carpet like a fallen ice cube, to evaporate into nothingness so you didn’t have to feel his eyes on you anymore. 

Suddenly, you looked up at him, catching him. Only then did he look away. He must have seen something inside of you that answered his question. 

You cleaned up the plates, making an excuse to do the dishes while everyone else lounged in the den. 

Then, disaster. Hamish cut himself while putting away his knives. Blood rushed out of the cut and down his elbow, dripping onto the counter and the tile. You rushed over with a towel,

“Here, put some pressure.”

Pidge took over for you, and she told you,

“Go check Johnny’s bag. He’s got a wee first aid kit in there, I know he does.”

You looked around for Johnny to make him do it instead, but he’d gone outside to smoke with Price, so you jogged off to his room alone. His bag was on the bed, and you took a deep breath before unzipping it, staying tight to your mission. Then, you spotted the little red kit near the bottom. You pulled it out in a hurry, and the rucksack dropped to the floor, spilling its contents. 

“Shit,” you muttered, bending to clean it up. 

You tossed all the clothes back in, but you noticed a journal that had fallen out. It was splayed open, its spine facing you. Your hands shook a bit as you went to pick it up. Then, you saw the one thing you hadn’t expected to see: you. 

Your face was sketched out in careful detail. There were little scratches of pen for the shadows, and negative space for the highlights. Your eyes were looking off in the distance, and your smile was soft, almost like it wasn’t even there. You looked beautiful. 

You couldn’t help yourself. You flipped the page. You found a map, and a sketch with some attack dogs, but in the margin you saw Sonnet 91. You turned the page again. Your face was everywhere. Your body, your eyes, your hands… you were scattered across the paper in bright blue ink. Then, Sonnet 145. Coffee stains and what may have been blood marred the masterpieces he had left behind. You flipped again, and it was you. Pieces of Sonnet 29. Then you. You were on every page. All of the images of war and maps and guns disappeared and now it was just you, you, you.

Your heart slammed into your mouth and you couldn’t breathe. You thought of golden sunrises across the Urzikstani desert half a world away, imagining him sitting on the open tailgate of a Humvee with this book open in front of him. You thought of how closely he had watched you for months; how his hands had traced the curves of your body so beautifully sketched before you. How he had noticed the three freckles on the side of your eye, the ones you thought no one could see. 

You shoved the book back in the bag and ran back into the kitchen, first aid kit in hand. 

Pidge noticed something was wrong.

“You alright, hen?”

“Just squeamish,” you feigned nausea, pointing to Hamish’s blood. 

Johnny came back in from the porch, looking at you, distress creasing his brow,

“What’s happened?”

“Hamish…” You gestured at the injured man, pointedly avoiding looking at Johnny. 

“Don’t like the sight of blood, thief?” Price asked, using your nickname. In your periphery you could see Johnny stiffen at the comment, but no one else seemed to notice. Price continued, suggesting, “Why don’t we go for a walk.”

“Thanks, John,” Pidge smiled at him, glad that he could tend to you as she was tending to her fiance. 

You let yourself be led out of the house through the front door. Price had you by the arm, none too gently, you thought, and walked you into the cool night air, wrapping his jacket around you and shutting the door. 

He was relighting a fat cigar, letting the smoke linger in his mouth, walking slowly, aimlessly down the path, without a destination in mind, leading you nowhere. 

“Are you alright?” He asked, knowing the answer. 

“No.”

You weren’t sure why you told him the truth. He was just going to run back and report to Johnny. But, there was something in his eyes that made you think he genuinely cared, and you so desperately needed someone to care. 

“Have you listened to his side of it?” 

“No.”

“Do you want to?”

You didn’t answer. You wanted to say no, but something stopped you. 

Price stopped walking, his boots scraping in the gravel of the path, his bright blue eyes icy and a little sad. 

“Listen,” he frowned, “I’ve known Johnny a lot longer than you. I’ve seen him broken. I’ve seen him scared. I’ve seen him mad, and drunk, and happy, and beaten… but I’ve never seen him like this.”

You crossed your arms in his jacket, trying to find some warmth. Suddenly, you felt Price’s finger dig inside of the neckline of your shirt. You almost knocked his hand away, but he put up his other in a sign of peace. And when he found what he was looking for, he smiled. 

He’d pulled out Johnny’s dog tag from beneath your shirt, and you knew you’d been caught. Price held the coin up to you like the sacrament, discovering your shame, bringing your sin out into the open. In that moment, you wanted to bend down on both knees and take it into your mouth, and you wanted him to make you whole again with it. 

“This isn’t like him,” he said, the porch light made the silver gleam, and it blinded you for a moment, “He’s generous enough with his smiles and compliments, but he doesn’t give freely of himself. Not like this. Would’ve thought you’d known. He’s kept himself hidden all this time. But, not from you.” 

You cried. You didn’t want to. You bit your lip and furrowed your brow. You swallowed your spit and tried to breathe through the tears, but they came anyway. He held you to his chest, and you knew his tee shirt would be wet from your weakness, but he kept a steady hand on your back, regardless. 

He tucked the tag back into your shirt and it lay cold against that spot between your breasts; the same spot Johnny had kissed you when he’d taken your guilt from you the first night you’d been together, there, in his bed. You thought Price would make some sort of face, some judgment. But, he didn’t. He simply walked you back inside and held the door for you. 

You went through it on your own accord, and Johnny’s eyes were the first thing to greet you. He raked them over you like a forest fire, burning you from roots to boughs, seeing Price’s jacket over your shoulders and lingering on it for a while until you handed it back to his captain. 

“All covered!” Hamish chuckled, holding up his bandaged finger to you, “Sorry, babes.”

You smiled, 

“No worries. I think I’m just tired from the ride in. Gonna lay down early.”

Pidge caught your attention, 

“Don’t forget, you and Johnny have to make it before two. Pictures are at two.”

You nodded, retreating to what used to be a sanctuary. Now, it felt more like a cell. 

Your goal was to get to sleep before he could join you. You knew it would be too suspicious for him to follow you into his room, so you had the advantage of time. How strange it was to avoid what you had been craving. 

You climbed into the sheets, and you did your best to ignore all of the memories that kept rushing back. The smear of her purple lipstick across his soft earlobe haunted you like a ghost. 

THURSDAY — Midnight: 1 day until the wedding

He came in as quietly as he could, but you woke up anyway. You tried your best to pretend to be asleep, keeping your breathing heavy and long. It was pitch black, and when he sat on the bed, you heard the familiar creak of the coils. 

He pulled the covers back, he fluffed the pillow, he took off his watch, and then he just… laid there. 

You weren’t sure what you were expecting he would do. Wake you up? Demand your attention? You’d shut him out completely. He knew his company was unwanted. 

The dark voice laughed at you in your head. It knew the truth. It wanted him to fight for you. It wanted him to beg for your mercy. It wanted him to take you in his arms anyway, despite your protests. It wanted him to ignore your wishes. It wanted the animal in him to claim the animal in you, to remind you that you were his woman and that he could do with you as he wished. 

But, he wasn’t an animal. He was a man, and he respected you enough to stay on his side of the line. 

It was only when he thought you were well and truly asleep that you felt his finger graze the metal chain of his dog tags on the back of your neck, not heavily enough to wake you, but enough to feel that they were real. You wondered if Price had ratted you out or if Johnny had noticed himself. You thought it was the latter, knowing him.  

You passed out eventually, listening to the sound of his quiet snoring, your pillow soaked from tears that had spilled out across the bridge of your nose. Tears he wouldn’t be able to touch. 

THURSDAY — 2:00PM: 1 day until the wedding

Saint Patrick’s church was quaint, and the interior was minimalistic compared to other Catholic churches you’d visited before. There was something sort of liminal about the space, as if it were unfinished. You wondered what it would look like when it was full of people. 

You were standing at the altar, fake bouquet in hand, pretending to be a blushing bride. The photographer was very much in charge of this ordeal, and he was as outspoken as he was confident. 

“Okay, perfect. See? She’s perfect. Can you be perfect, too, Mr….?”

“It’s Lachlan. Lachlan Black,” he reminded him for the third time. 

“Ugh, okay. Lachlan. If only you were a little more memorable, but my brain just — whoosh!” The photographer, Gary, made a little noise and a motion with his hand like a bird flying through a window. 

“And you’re just too damn tall, you know that?” Gary sighed. 

He looked around the room, appraising all of the bridal party like a dealer at an auction, looking for the solution amongst the chaff. Then, he waved Hamish up from the front pew, getting him to stand. Gary looked him up and down, and motioned for him to sit again. With a snap of his fingers, he said,

“Hey! You. Mohawk. What’s your name again? You know what — that’s enough names actually. Mohawk will be groom instead. Nice and tall, but not too tall. Yes, yes… okay, thank you, Lachlan… buh-bye.”

You were face to face with Johnny at the altar. 

You felt the panic make your blood rush into your cheeks. It was hard to catch your breath. 

Of all the times you’d imagine being at the altar with Johnny, this was certainly not it.

You stared at your fake, paper bouquet and prayed in your mind, loudly, for a sudden plague. Toads, rivers of blood — whatever you’ve got, Heaven! Throw it down here, please. You begged for a miracle or a smiting. Either would do. 

The Lord did not oblige you. 

“Okay… better! Yes, this is much better. Cute. Can you scooch in a bit, mohawk? She doesn’t bite, I don’t think.” Gary winked.

Mohawk scooched in. You dared to look up into his eyes, and when you did, you knew you made a mistake. You were trapped in him and he was trapped in you. You felt like you were frozen in place, unable to breathe or speak or scream, no matter how badly you wanted to. 

You had a whole conversation with him in the span of those few seconds. You asked him why he’d been covered in someone else at the bar. You begged him to give you some evidence that you hadn’t seen what you saw. You told him about all the nights you’d lay awake, about all the times you’d thrown his tag into the corner of your room, only to crawl on your hands and knees to retrieve it, clutching it to you and feeling sorry that you’d done so. 

He was telling you something as well, but you couldn’t hear him. He was screaming it, you knew that much, but it wasn’t loud enough. 

Gary interrupted you,

“Okay, hold hands around the bouquet, pretty please…”

He grasped your hands, and it was so familiar, you almost melted into him. By some magical power, you held yourself together, but as the camera clicked and flashed, with every moment you lost a little more control.

“...annnnnnnd now the kiss? C’mon. We’re all adults here. This lighting is shit — forgive me, Father — and I can’t deal with the actual money shot being trash. Today, people!”

You hesitated. But, Johnny didn’t. He seemed to set himself, his mouth in a tight, resigned line, and then he held your face in his hands, just as gently as he always did. When he kissed you, he really kissed you. He didn’t fake it for the cameras, and he didn’t hide his passion from Pidge or any of the others. You couldn’t help but kiss him back, letting him guide you as he liked, his big jaw shaking a bit as he let go. 

“Perfect! Okay, and now the happy couple is smiling at the crowd…”

Gary took a step back into the aisle, and Johnny held up your hand in the air in mock triumph, posing for a gleeful moment that didn’t exist. You looked right at Pidge, but she was laughing at something Hamish had said, fully oblivious to the war raging right in front of her face. 

“Alright… well, I don’t know if I’d call that smiling, necessarily, but here we are. Okay. Mohawk, you’re done.”

The way Johnny dropped your hand made you feel like you were on fire, as if he could no longer stand to hold you, or like he had been burned. It was sharp, and you weren’t sure what you were expecting. Did you want him to linger? To profess his undying love in front of his sister and ruin her one special day? You didn’t. So you let his absence cut you like a blade, severing you like a limb from a tree. 

THURSDAY — 7:00PM: 1 day until the wedding

The rehearsal dinner venue, the Auchentoshan Distillery, was gorgeous. Johnny had spared no expense on the stylings, and there was food everywhere you looked. The cakes were elegantly plated, the roast hung shining, its drippings making the shank glitter, and even the boiled potatoes made your mouth water. 

Johnny had obviously arranged the table settings a few weeks ago, because you were sat right next to him and Price, across from Gaz and Ghost. Pidge was two seats down, and the rest of the girls were across from her and Hamish. Lachlan and the other groomsmen were on the opposite side. But, other than for the initial dinner, you hadn’t been made to sit by him much at all. He mingled around the room, talking to everyone except for you, making sure all of the cups were filled and all of the faces were smiling. 

He was an impeccable host. His charisma was electric. And he looked upsettingly handsome. He wore a kilt tonight, one of his hunting tartans, with a sharp button down embellished with gleaming pearl buttons. His shoulders were bursting through the fabric, pulling it taut against his wide back. If you looked carefully enough, you could imagine where his tattoo peeked through.

Gaz cleared his throat, whispering low,

“Have you talked to him, then?”

Your eyes tore themselves away from Johnny to stare at Gaz. You checked over your shoulder to see if Pidge had heard him, and he glanced at her, too. 

“No.”

Ghost spoke at full volume, not caring who heard him,

“Are you going to?”

Price dropped his fork so that it clattered on the plate, giving Ghost a chastising glare. 

“She’ll talk to him when she’s ready to talk to him, and it’s none of our bloody business.”

You didn’t hear much else out of Gaz or Ghost, but as they chewed their food, you could tell that they didn’t believe Price for one damn second. It very much was their bloody business.

And maybe it was. Price had certainly made it his business on your walk last night, and it seemed like your relationship with Johnny was slowly becoming everyone’s business. You had tried your best to return to that same old invisibility you were used to, but it wasn’t enough now. You felt like you were on full display.

“Excuse me,” you got up and fled to the bathroom.

When you opened the door, you saw Bekah and Anjali inside, freshening up their makeup. 

“Hey!” They said in high-pitched unison.

“Hey,” you replied, inching by them to get into the stall. 

“Where’d you disappear to the other night, babe?” Anjali called out to you through the door. 

“Just got too drunk. Took a cab,” you told her, hoping that would end the conversation. 

“Fuck,” Bekah laughed, “That was me, too. Did Cherise tell you about that bloke at Max’s?”

“No,” you said, captivated like a prisoner.

“Arsehole thought he could put something in my drink. Soap saw him and beat him within an inch of his fuckin’ life! You should’ve seen the man. Needed a damn doctor, so he did,” Bekah confessed.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” you said, genuinely. Bekah was not your friend, but she didn’t deserve to be assaulted. 

Anjali laughed,

“Soap had to carry her out! She was stumblin’ all over the road.”

“Wasnae my fault!” Bekah protested, “But, he was a gentleman. Drove me home. Him and Gaz.”

“Oh, that Gaz is fine, no?” Anjali interrupted. 

“Aye. I thought Johnny might kiss me back, just this once, but he still didn’t. That lad is harder to wear down than the goddamn Pope, I swear. I’ve given up.”

“Didn’t you sleep together?” You asked, torturing yourself. 

“God, no! He won’t have any of us. Pidge thinks he has, but I’ve never slept with him. Definitely would though,” Bekah gushed. 

“Hasn’t Cherise?” Anjali asked.

“No! Cannae believe it. All this talk for being a big slut and he’s a choir boy,” you could hear Bekah’s voice get louder with her disbelief.

“Shame,” Anjali lamented.

“Aye, a shame,” Bekah agreed, “Was he a good kisser? He looked it. You were quite a pair up at the altar. Maybe he’d go for you, hen.”

You pulled open the stall door and joined them at the sink. Your hands were trembling. 

“Babes,” Bekah noticed, “Are you alright? You havnae seemed well since the hen do. You’re working too hard for this wedding.”

“I’m alright. I think I just need some fresh air,” you smiled, pushing your way out of the door.

When you walked back into the main hall, everyone was standing. A waitress with a tray found you and handed you a glass of champagne. You moved to the side around the crowd to see what all the commotion was, and it was Johnny. He was standing next to Pidge with his glass raised high, clinking it delicately with the side of his fork. 

“Alright, alright. Settle down,” he smiled at his sister, “I know Lachlan is the one supposed to be up here haverin’ about Hamish, but he was kind enough to give me his go because I needed to talk to my sister.”

His eyes found you and settled there, no longer scanning the crowd. You watched him take a breath before he continued,

“If you dinnae ken me, I am Johnny MacTavish, Sergeant of His Majesty’s Special Air Service —” he was interrupted by proud applause, “Uh, thank you. And I am the younger brother of our darling Brigette here. While I was away, Pidge has taken care of my life for me. She took care of our ma when she was ill, and she buried our da without me. She managed to keep the wee house from fallin’ into the river, and still she has time to volunteer at Saint Mary’s children’s ward on the odd weekend.”

More applause. He paused and went on,

“All that to say, my sister doesnae need anyone. But, love isnae about need. It’s about choosin’ to be with a person who makes you feel like you can be yourself, that you can confess to all the desires and the wants and the hopes and the fears that you have inside of you, and you know that they understand you. They see you for who you are, and they love you for it anyway. 

Love isnae patient, and it certainly isnae bloody kind. It loves to boast! And it falls prey to envy. Love is in a rush, and it eats you alive from the inside out. Love isnae about needing. It’s want, pure and simple. To Hammie and Pidge, may you live a hundred years, and may you want each other endlessly in each of them. Slàinte mhath.” 

“Slàinte mhath!”

You drank your champagne, numb and panicking.

Someone shoved a small microphone onto the strap of your dress, clicking it in place, and you stared down at it while everyone else stared at you, waiting.

You breathed into the mic, listening to your breath come through the speakers. You wanted to talk to him, to tell him you’d learned the truth. But, you were surrounded, literally, by all of his friends and family. There was no worse time for your truth-telling. So, you tried to lean on the speech you remember preparing, mashing it together with words that kept pouring from your heart.

“Hello,” you tried out a smile, “I’ve known Brigette for years, and she is the only real family I have. I’m not Scottish. I know the accent gives it away,” some polite laughter, “But, I’m wearing the MacTavish boar around my neck because Pidge welcomed me here with open arms and took me in as if I had been here the whole time. Like it was the most natural thing to do. She’s selfless in all the ways you should be, and she always promised that I would have a home with her. And I love her dearly for that.”

You spoke directly to Johnny, just as he did to you, 

“I’ve been thinking about selflessness, and about making promises. I’ve been thinking about the type of man who does the right thing, even when it’s hard. I’ve been thinking about the type of man who breaks a promise when he needs to break one, and I’ve been thinking about the consequences of our actions. But, when you love someone, the consequence is just… more love. There’s really nothing else, is there? You could get a shovel and dig until you reach the bottom of the earth looking for them, but there are no real consequences when you’re in love. It trumps… everything.” 

You paused for a long time. Johnny was captivated by your eyes, hanging on every word, and you’d been silent for too long. You said, directly to Pidge,

“So, I hope, when you’re wondering if you’ve done the right thing or not, and you’re digging around for the consequences of that, I hope you just keep pulling out more and more love. Just love all the way down. Forever. Cheers, to Hamish and Pidge.”

“Cheers!”

You finished your champagne and walked over to Pidge. Everyone was applauding and talking loudly again, laughing and sharing their own joys about the happy couple. You were overwhelmed, but you wanted to see her. 

Pidge held out her arms and folded them around you, clutching you tightly to her chest, whispering I love yous and thank yous into your skin. You kissed her on the cheek, whispering to her,

“I’m gonna step outside for a moment, are you alright for now?”

“Yes! Go. Take Johnny with you. When he gets sappy, he starts to hover,” she swatted Johnny away as he leaned in to kiss her, fighting through her protests. 

She gave in, melting into him and smiling as he planted a kiss to her cheek. 

“I love you, Pidge,” he said to her, not letting her go.

“I love you, too, Johnny-boy. And I’m sorry for all the mean things I’ve said. You’ve changed. I dinnae ken what’s gotten into you, but all this…” She looked around at the reception hall, “All this has made me realize that you finally see me, you finally see what I’ve been going through, and I’ve been unfair. Thank you, brother.”

He kissed her forehead, trying to blink away tears as he did so, lingering with his lips on her skin before removing himself from her embrace. 

“C’mon,” he nodded at you and took you by the hand, right in front of her, leading you out to the back courtyard. 

The distillery was situated right next to its water source, north of the River Clyde, and the waters churned from a pump run by the whisky makers. The flow of the water was invigorating and challenging, but the calmness of the lake itself was still and quiet; a dichotomy. It was the same within you, a roiling, tumbling sea of glass, ready to shatter.

Johnny turned and looked at you like he knew what you would say. As he approached you, slowly, he held up his hands, trying to hide that they were shaking, offering peace, carrying no weapon, for once. You unfolded your arms, still clutching yourself around your waist, waiting for him to prove you wrong, for him to confirm the truth you’d overheard from Bekah. 

“Are you willing to hear me now, thief?”

“I already heard,” you said, “From Bekah. And I saw your journal.”

He was speechless. All of the things he’d planned to say to you had dried up, and now he was left chewing on their remains. He put his hands on his hips and looked out at the water,

“I’m so goddamn in love with you, it hurts.”

He pinned you with his gaze, then. Watching you take in his confession. He continued,

“It hurts when I wake up, and it hurts when I go to bed. I dinnae ken how to stop it from hurtin’ like this. Feels like I’m burnin’ up, like I’m on fire inside of me. And when you left me, I…” he had trouble forming the words, “I wasnae… I couldnae ken how bad it would be. It was worse, somehow, and I was prayin’ to whatever god that would hear me for some sort of mercy. And I had none. Until I saw, or I thought I saw…”

He came closer to you, reaching around your neck and pulling out his tags just like Price had done. His eyes shone with unshed tears. 

“You made me hope.”

He took your hand in his and held it tightly, as tightly as he dared, and looked you right in the face, 

“I didnae sleep with Bekah, nor Cherise, nor Anjali.”

“I know.”

“I didnae want to, either.”

“I know.”

“I’m in love with you, mèirleach.”

“I’m in love with you, too.”

Johnny used his tags around your neck to pull you into him, kissing you harshly, not allowing you to let go. You kissed him back, pressing at him with your tongue, tasting the champagne in his mouth, feeling his shaven face bristle against your smooth cheek. He moaned into you, speaking to you in a low whisper,

“Please, mèirleach, forgive me.”

“Johnny, there’s nothing to forgive.”

He hugged you to him and you rested your head against his neck, finally able to relax into him after days of being on a knife’s edge. 

But, you were distracted by the sound of a loud knocking against glass. You turned back toward the distillery and saw Ghost tapping on the huge floor to ceiling window and pointing to a microphone in his hand. You looked down and realized you never handed them back the mic from your speech. You were still wearing it, and the red light was on. 

You showed it to Johnny, stunned by your own idiocy. He spun to see Ghost waving slightly, and the rest of the wedding party — hell, the whole distillery — standing behind him in shock

+=+=+=+=+=+=+

Chapter 10 (Ending)

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #john soap mactavish #soap call of duty #johnny mactavish #call of duty #cod #soap x you #soap x reader #soap smut #soap mw2 #soap mctavish #soap cod #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #cod soap #guile and guilt

[holylulusworld]

Broken Rose (Prologue)

Summary: He may have stolen your kingdom and freedom – but he’ll never own your heart. Right?

Pairing: Alpha!Geralt of Rivia x Queen(Omega)!Reader

Warnings: heavy angst, mentions of death/fighting/blood, mentions of forced/arranged marriage trope, friends to enemies to ???, a/b/o, magic

Broken Rose masterlist

A broken rose. That’s what he called you the day he forced you to share his life and bed. Right after he defeated your brave knights, the undefeatable master of darkness, the monster with yellow eyes claimed you as his bride and mate.

Cries. The smell of blood, death, and despair still lingered in the back of your mind when he claimed not only your kingdom but your body too.

The lost battle still tasted bittersweet on your tongue when he stole the first kiss and promised to make you his obedient queen.

He believed that you’ll bow your head and fulfill his every wish.

What he didn’t get was that roses have thorns, and they can cut deep into the flesh of someone who tries to pick them…

“Watch the left flank!” You yelled at your knights while holding your ground. A queen fighting alongside her knights and commoners to defend their homelands from the enemy.

“He’s merciless,” Adekin, one of your most trusted knights said. “We should retreat, my queen. You cannot die out here among us. Go back to the castle.”

“If I die, I’ll do it next to you and my knights,” you threw yourself into another fight, slicing the enemies invading your homeland open with the sword your father gifted to you. “This is my kingdom and my people. I will not back down!”

“He’s the black magician, the Witcher enchanting even beasts,” he cut the next enemy's head off. “We cannot withstand much longer, my queen. Please head back to the castle.”

“No!” You refused to fall back and run away like a coward. If your life ended tonight, it would end on your conditions. “This is my fight as much as yours. It’s my birthright to defend this country and feed the earth with my blood.”

“My queen,” Adekin protected you with his shield and struck another enemy down. “It’s an honor to fight alongside you. It will be an ever greater honor to die for you.”

“No one will die tonight,” you rammed your dagger into an attacker’s side. “He will not win.” You gritted your teeth. “This is our kingdom. The Witcher cannot have it.”

“Y/N, queen of Rosethra,” the ground shook when his voice cut through the night. The monsters attacking you stopped in their tracks, and your knights dropped their swords to the ground. “I came here to ask for your hand.”

“Go back to where you came from,” even now, he couldn’t enchant you with his magic. “Here is nothing for you, Geralt of Rivia. I will never bow for you. Kill me now if you are man enough.”

His laughter made you even angrier. You gripped your sword tighter and prepared for the final battle. “My sweet rose,” he stepped out of the darkness, smirking darkly because you were the last one standing.

Your knights fell to their knees, defeated by an invisible power holding them down.

“What are you doing to them?” You screamed as Adekin looked back at you with black eyes. “No…stop this!”

“Queen of Rosethra, I came here to unite our kingdoms,” he stepped toward you, his hands raised in surrender, but not defeated at all. “Give yourself to me, and your people will live. Your knights will live. No one must die tonight if you agree to become mine.”

You looked at Adekin, your fallen knight. He didn’t deserve to turn into one of the monsters following Geralt. You knew his magic could enslave your beloved people, and couldn't let them suffer because of your dignity and pride.

You gritted your teeth but kneeled in front of him.

For now, the battle was lost. So, you chose to save your people and give up on your freedom. You placed your sword in front of you and tilted your head in submission.

“If you shelter their lives and don’t turn them into monsters,” you glared up at Geralt, the man who used to be your confidant and friend, “I’m yours...” 

Part 2

Tags in reblog.

#geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #alpha!geralt of rivia x omega!reader #a/b/o #Broken Rose (Prologue) #geralt of rivia x you #dark!geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x y/n

[inexplicifics]

Hello! I was rereading your Wolfblood series for probably the fourth or fifth time (it’s amazing 😍) and I was wondering if M’laiden would ever end up taking on a candidate? Milena mentioned several times thinking it might be pleasant, but I can’t see Lambert taking that on… unless maybe the child was just like him. Which then gives the hilarious impression of Lambert trying to deal with this tiny, bitey, feral child, and being kind of resignedly horrified when he starts relating to Vesemir 😂😂

It is distinctly possible that the trio will end up with at least one clan-child. Probably when they least expect it.

Lambert will indeed be horrified at his sudden empathy for Vesemir.

#questions answered #must brave the thorns

[probablyfunrpgideas]

D&D Idea: a family of dragons that are herbivores. They have specialized into a few biomes and food types, but I think the best way to classify these dragons (to avoid overlap with existing ones) is with the animals they mimic in their ecological niche.

For example, the Giraffe Dragon lives in small herds and eats tender leaves and shoots from tall trees. It has a three-part jaw to scoop and bite around sharp thorns, and uses its long neck to conduct a powerful electric breath weapon.

The Mammoth Dragon has no trunk, but sharp tusk-like blades of bone sweep out from its lower jaw, allowing the beast to scythe down vast quantities of grass - and protect itself from predators. If some dire bear or pack of elven rangers wants to take the risk, they still must contend with the mammoth dragon’s lava breath.

Though these first two have vestigial wings used in body language, the Moose Dragon is capable of true flight. It can be awe-inspiring to see the creature gallop through shallow waters, building up speed before it leaps into the sky. Moose dragons eat a lot of aquatic vegetation, and can hold their breaths for a long time. Perhaps their subsonic roar is even more deadly underwater, but no researcher is brave enough to test this.

What herbivore dragon would you put in your world?

#idea #tabletop rpgs #d&d #d&d 5e #pathfinder #d&d 3.5 #worldbuilding

[catscraftsandcommentary]

Rereading Must Brave The Thorns by @inexplicifics (for probably the 10th time, shhh) and I just got to the point where Marika says "My father signed my betrothal contract only last week. I am to marry Duke Velen in the spring."

Which. What is his PROBLEM. First he betrothes Milena to Velen, then sends her to Kaer Morhen (both times with the reasonable expectation that she wouldn't survive). Then he betrothes his middle daughter to Velen AGAIN.

(And we've already heard from Milena that the prince Marta will marry is The Absolute Worst (TM), aside from having a crown.)

Like. How does he NOT end up minus his head purely on the grounds of "you tortured your daughters and tried to marry them to people as monstrous and sadistic as you are."

#justiceforMilenaandMarika

#the witcher #accidental warlord au #inexplicifics #must brave the thorns

[yutaholic]

a rose and her thorns | nct series (M)

What happens in the van, stays in the van.

note: this fic is a little heavy at times but has a happy ending for everyone involved. there's lots of explicit smut, plus some drinking, smoking, and drug use.

disclaimer: the members are just my muses. I don’t know any of them personally and would never say that they would actually act or behave in the ways portrayed in this story.

SUCK MY KISS. (m)

There's a lot of tension between you and Mark, but neither of you seem brave enough to do anything about it.

SMELLS LIKE TEEN SPIRIT. (m)

Jeno keeps getting on your last nerve, but you still end up in his arms with your tongue down his throat.

THE SHOW MUST GO ON. (m)

Your best friend, your ride or die, Haechan has never once left your side, but all good things must come to an end.

Copyright 2020-2024 © yutaholic (formerly zenyukhei) All rights reserved do not copy or translate without my permission!

#nct #nct smut #mark smut #jeno smut #haechan smut

[ephemeralbutterfly]

MBTT Podfic Update #2

So. I was on track to, at long last, get Chapter 3 posted later today.

And then my hard drive abruptly died. The hard drive where both the chapter recording and the audio editing software were stored. I don’t have a backup of the chapter recording.

So there’s going to be a further delay while I get that sorted. Sorry, everyone. I really was hoping to be more consistent at getting the chapters out.

#mbtt podcast #mbtt podfic #must brave the thorns podcast #must brave the thorns podfic #let this at least be a reminder to everyone #to actually remember to back up your data when you're supposed to #I would have been able to recover from this much easier if I hadn't let myself get sloppy about backups