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satoruxx · 4 months

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here's a quick sneak peek from my upcoming wip just bc it's satoru's birthday and i don't have anything else prepared <3

gojo satoru x fem!reader

satoru lets his eyes roam over the gilded tables and sparkling chandeliers, all but used to the glamor of dances and other events he's been overseeing the past few years. even though he's supposed to stay out of the fray, attached to the wall where fellow guards remained stationed for an imminent emergency, satoru enjoys events like this.

he doesn't care for the noise, or the gross display of wealth, or the gossiping nobles and high elders. but he likes seeing you.

he likes seeing the pretty dresses you wear and how you seem to glow under the lighting of the candles. he likes seeing the flush settling high in your cheeks as you laugh with your friends. he likes seeing you against the backdrop of splendor because you're a vision just on your own.

he'd been watching over you at these events for a few years now, ever since he was thirteen and your father appointed him as your royal guard. he knew the routine well enough—you'd greet your friends and the other nobles with polite bows, then make rounds with your mother, followed by a customary dance with your father. then you'd be left to your own devices, free to enjoy the event as a young princess with barely a weight on her shoulders. his favorite part was when you'd eye the kitchen staff bringing in food—somedays you'd sneak him a piece of tart, and he'd stand against the wall, hand resting on the hilt of his blade as he bites back a smile bursting with flavor.

that was a few years ago. satoru didn't realize that the older you got, the more things would change. he'd changed too, of course, no longer the young boy barely nine years old who sat in front of you with hunched shoulders. now, he's grown, almost eighteen as his bones elongate and features become more sharp. he'd heard a few of the maids whispering about how handsome he'd turned out to be, and he stood in front of your bedchamber with his chest puffed out and chin held high. handsome enough for a princess?, he wanted to ask—but he figured that would get him into trouble.

but with his coming of age, yours followed. you're still only about sixteen, but satoru thinks you've grown to be quite pretty. in some ways you've changed, and yet in some ways you're exactly the same—still sweet and kind like you were the day he first met you. he figured he'd be the only one who'd notice though.

but being sixteen meant that you were now supposed to be shown to other eyes—other lanky princes and sons of high nobles who followed you around the ballroom asking for a dance. one night, when satoru was standing guard outside your door, he heard you whining to your mother.

"i just don't understand why," you had said, voice miserable in a way that satoru could easily pick out. your mother sighs complacently.

"because it is your responsibility," she replies, voice aged with years of experience. "courting is something that every princess must go through once they are older. it's your turn now."

"but what if i don't like any of the other noble boys?"

satoru doesn't hear the answer, but he spends the rest of the night with a too tight grip on the hilt of his blade.

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gallusrostromegalus · 8 months

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AEIWAM ask spam 1: you’ve already elaborated on all the weird grudges people have, what about weird friendships?

THANK YOU! I am stupid busy but I am having a ton of fun with the friendships in this fic, so short versions that I can/will elaborate on later:

- Kenpachi and Byakuya: when Kenpachi first arrived in the Seireitei, Byakuya was a recently orphaned teenager and Kenpachi is, as he says "related to his mother" and can't help but take him under his wing a bit. As it stands, Kenpachi is, functionally, Byakuya's step-father.

- Izuru and Komamura: Wabisuke and Tenken were friends first, but it grew from there when Izuru got sent to investigate the curious incident of the dog in the night.

- Hanataro and Akon: The 4th needs more supplies than any other division and the 12th provides them, so the 4th's Toxicologist and Go-Fer gets to see the 12th's shadow captain all the time.

- Ikkaku and Sasakibe: the first lieutenant's meeting Ikkaku was at was ALSO the first lieutenant's meeting after TBTP, when nearly all the lieutenants had been field-promoted or killed, and there was a general bereavement, but when Sasakibe walked in to see what maniac the wildman that took over the 11th appointed for a lieutenant, he instead found Ikkaku doing stage magic tricks to cheer up a distraught Isane and Kaien, and realized this was a kind, if fundamentally ridiculous soul.

- "The Kids": Yachiru, Nel, Toshiro, Weiss, Syoga No Kotowari, and all the other Court Guard Brats tend to travel as a pack, and things can get a bit Lord Of The Flies sometimes.

- not exactly a friendship per se, but The Thirteen Daughters of Aramaki, including Hisana Kuchiki nee Aramaki.

- Soi Fon and Chikane Iba: after TBTP, Soi Fon ended up bonding with her fellow female captain and single mother Chikane Iba. And by "bonding" I mean "basically moved in with". Chikane was deeply relieved to have a regular babysitter and Soi Fon relieved to have another home to go to that doesn't contain her family. Or what's left of it.

- Rangiku and Retsu: Retsu, canonically, runs the Ikebana club, is the Chief Judge at the Seireitei Flower Festival, and keeps an enormous flower garden. Her first introduction to Rangiku is finding the academy student crouched in her foxgloves, and then being subject to a surprise 30minute lecture on the medical and cosmetic applications of digitalis, and realized she had found a kindred soul.

- Nanao and Gin: Nanao was quite possibly Gin's favorite person in the Court Guard, because she was very used to explaining things very slowly and in little steps, and Gin was functionally an escaped sausage roll in an executive position so 76% of the credit for the 3rd division's functionality goes to her. She liked having someone who actually listened to and took her advice and MAN, things got weird after Aizen.

- Uryuu and Yamamoto: Yamamoto doesn't actually hate Quincies- it's really only the "evaporating souls" thing he's got a problem with. Long ago, before the gotei-13, he was even friends with the ancestor of all Quincy, and misses his friend and curses Yhwach for what that monster did to him. Uryuu bears a startling resemblance to his ancestor, and it's nice to have someone to practice his German on again. Uryuu is fucking bewildered, but also severely short on men to look up to in his life and- well. Maybe. Maybe if they are friends, they can finally stop this feud?

- Yumichika and Ukitake: Yumichika was raised by his mother and the rest of the nurses in the first hospital in the Rukongai, and that's where he learned to fight too. It's a huge surprise for Ukitake when Yumichika knows what to do when he starts to have an anaphylactic reaction, but far from an unwelcome one.

- Renji, Iba and The Lads: Graduates of the Zaraki Kenpachi Finishing School for Young Men With Good Knees

- Orihime and Tousen: Hey, remember when we were both kidnapped by a deranged maniac that one time and coped by doing religious math and improvisational surgery about it? Good times!

- Chad and Komamura: "What do you guys even talk about?" "Nothing." "Why the secrecy?" "No Literally. We don't talk, and if we do it's about Nothing."

- Tatsuki and Mashiro: "This is boring, you wanna break chairs over each other's heads?" "Yeah!"

- Momo and Byakuya: The Rice Farm Subsidies Fraud Investigation.

#aeiwam #an elephant is warm and mushy #bleach #bleach fanfiction

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teamatsumu · 8 months

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seireitei HR department chronicles - pt 1

Summary: It’s your first week at your fancy new HR job. And your first ever complaint is already the most bizarre situation you had ever dealt with

Word Count: 1,140

Warnings: swearing, mentions of nudity

previous part • masterlist

The room was silent except for the periodic tick, tick, tick of the wall clock. You wished there was some sound to fill the empty space, maybe then you wouldn’t have to stew in the horror of the words that had just left Captain Hitsugaya’s mouth.

You watched the snow-haired Captain slouch in the seat before you, arms crossed and shoulders hunched. His face was twisted into a deep scowl, lips pursed. The skin of his cheeks was slightly dusky, showing that he was, in fact, embarrassed by the account he had just given you.

You cleared your throat, trying to form words with a tongue you felt was completely paralyzed. You stared at the form in front of you that you were trying to fill, the large “COMPLAINT FORM” written on top seemed almost comical considering the complaint in question was-

“I’m just going to tick the ‘personal’ box in ‘Nature of The Problem’.” You choked out. Captain Hitsugaya looked affronted.

“It’s not personal, it’s professional.” He said. “I was in my office. That’s a professional space.”

“But, um-” You felt like crying. “I don’t think Lieutenant Matsumoto accidentally flashing you is a…. professional problem.”

The Captain’s cheeks flamed even more, a petulant pout settling on his face. “An accident, my ass. How does that even happen accidentally-”

“She was sleeping.” you argued weakly.

That made him perk up, as if you just gave him a gotcha. “And why was she sleeping in my office during office hours? Actually, I want to file a separate complaint about that.”

Before you could protest, he had reached across the desk to grab the form you were filling, then reached for another one and plucked the pen right out of your hand. You watched helplessly as he scribbled in the details of his problem, secretly grateful you didn’t have to write all of that out.

Curse Captain General Yamamoto Genryuusai for making an HR Department and then putting you in charge. Your first week, and your first complaint, and it had to be the kid captain complaining about his grown Lieutenant snoring on his office couch with her chest on display.

You didn’t even know what the protocol here was.

“Has this happened before?” You asked, hoping to gain some guidance on how to deal with this.

“Too many times.” He mumbled back, focused on the paper before him which he was furiously scratching letters on. He sounded so grumpy it nearly made you laugh.

“So what did you do before this?” You continued.

He rolled his eyes. “Nothing. I would scold her and hope to god I never had to witness that again.”

You looked at the huge “Seireitei Code” that Squad 1 had delivered to you on your first day there. It was thick as a brick and contained every rule on the Gotei and what exactly to do when violation of rules occured. Granted, it was for more severe violations like murder or serious bodily harm. You could guarantee with your whole ass that there was nothing in there about flashing your captain.

How the fuck were you supposed to talk about this with Lieutenant Matsumoto?

Once Captain Hitsugaya had left, after many assurances on your part that you would personally have a sit down with his Lieutenant on the seriousness of the problem, you slumped into your chair and buried your face in your hands. This had to be a joke. This couldn't be the potential the Captain Commander saw in you. There’s no way he created this department knowing you had to solve sexual harassment cases between a literal child and a grown woman.

On second thought, maybe that's exactly why he made an HR department. You imagined the Captain Commander of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads, the most powerful man in Soul Society, having to deal with squabbles like this on a near weekly basis. Jeez. No wonder the man needed a buffer to take matters off his hands.

Try as you might, you couldn't see a way out of this without physically having the Lieutenant in your office to air out her Captain’s grievances. You knew a written warning wouldn’t suffice. If you knew anything about the bubbly woman, it was that she wouldn’t take an office document seriously. There was a good chance she wouldn’t bother to read it at all.

You didn't know how exactly to confront Lieutenant Matsumoto about the predicament she had found herself in. And it almost annoyed you that you were somehow more uncomfortable with this than she was. She nearly giggled when you read through the report. You on the other hand, wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

“Do you understand where he is coming from?” Your whole face was hot after having read out the complaint Captain Hitsugaya had written out, looking anywhere but directly at the Lieutenant’s face.

“Yeah but,” she scratched the back of her head, pouting slightly. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“A rule violation is still a rule violation, Lieutenant.”

She sighed and stretched, nodding but looking unconvinced. “It’s hard to really control any part of your body when you are asleep, though.”

“Uh, about that.” You rifled through the papers on your desk to hand her the other complaint her Captain had written out. “He also reported you for sleeping excessively on the job.”

Matsumoto pouted and whined at that, looking almost offended by the piece of paper dangling before her face. “Aw, come on! Captain can get so mean sometimes. Do you know how much paperwork I have to do? I can’t even take a little nap?”

You knew for a fact that Captain Hitsugaya was carrying Squad 10 on his shoulders. He finished the work of three people every day by himself.

“Lieutenant…” The tone of your voice was so defeated it made her sigh.

“Okay, okay. Fine. I will try to not fall asleep. And I’ll keep the girls tightly wrapped up. That okay?”

“Please refrain from calling them that in a professional setting.” You corrected weakly, feeling weary to the bone. You almost missed defending Ikkaku and Yumichika when they beat up 20 people and ended up in Squad 4 with broken limbs. Surely, anything would be better than this.

“Okay! Jeez.” She sniffed, standing up. “Can I leave now?”

You nodded, watching her make her exit and slumping forward until your head hit your desk. Your forehead stung at the contact. You looked at the report in front of you, Lieutenant Matsumoto’s signature next to the acknowledgement of her poor behavior. Your lips twitched.

Giggles erupted from your throat as the hilarity of the situation finally caught up with you, bending over to grip your stomach as tears leaked from your lash line. Fucking hell.

This would be a good story to tell at parties.

let me know what you think! taglist is open

#bleach fanfiction #bleach #bleach anime #hitsugaya toshiro #hitsugaya toshiro x reader #matsumoto rangiku #matsumoto rangiku x reader #bleach imagine

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smol-ackerman · 1 year

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⚔️ FIRST GENERATION GOTEI 13 ⚔️

"The original Thirteen Court Guard Squads that you founded were Court Guards in name only. They were a group of savage killers. But because of that, they were a fearsome bunch."

BLEACH: THE BLOOD WARFARE Ep. 07 Born in the dark

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miscellaneoussmp · 2 months

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Holy shit, a proper fanfic? It's more likely than you think. I'm normal about hgduo, I'm so normal about hgduo and that's why I wrote this. Anyways, here's Cellbit throughout the years (cw/tw: blood/violence/death mentioned/referenced throughout, general Cellbit fuckery, highly repetitive narration):

Cellbit is just thirteen. Well, in actuality, he doesn't know his name, and his age is just as obscure when he meets Badboyhalo. The demon teaches him all sorts of things like how to not waste food, words to use instead of swears, and a fun game. 'Fetch' Bad calls it. Cellbit thinks the demon is lying to him sometimes. He laughs every time Bad yells at him for swearing, but he tries not to most of the time. It's not his fault that he didn't see that arrow, or maybe it is? Bad teaches him to be aware of his surroundings.

Cellbit is sixteen, well in actuality he still doesn't know his name instead Bad calls him a flurry of assorted nicknames ('Little one' the demon seems to settle on when he thinks Cellbit is sleeping. In reality, he doesn't sleep). He doesn't know how long it's been when he loses sight of Bad. He thinks he must be feeling empty. Alone, maybe? He doesn't know. He walks off the battlefield with an iron knife in hand and the taste of iron in his mouth.

Cellbit is just nineteen. Well, in actuality, people call him Cell, and he finally knows how old he is as the courts seemed hellbend on proving his age when he sits across from a psychologist. They seem nervous, maybe it's the mutliple armed guards? Who knows, certainly not him. They ask him a very simple question: Why? Cell answers truthfully for once, "A demon told me not to waste food, so I don't." He shrugs like it's the most mundane thing in the world, and to him, it is.

Cellbit is twenty-six when the cargo ship he snuck on runs aground. He tries his best to ignore the looks from nervous brown eyes and pissed off green eyes. He introduces himself with his full name in front of the people who live on this island. One of those people is Bad. It feels nice to know that his oldest friend now knows his name. Cellbit meets his son for the first time, and he thinks the world of the little one.

Cellbit is twenty-six when he thinks he's fallen in love. Cellbit is twenty-six when he makes the worst decision in his entire life. Cellbit is twenty-six when he wakes up with a white streak in his hair. Cellbit is twenty-six when he gets engaged. Cellbit is twenty-six when he gets married.

Cellbit is twenty-six when his son goes missing along with the rest of the children on the island. Cellbit is twenty-six when he pushes himself headfirst into looking for any clue possible. Cellbit is twenty-six when he meets his sister. Bagi is twenty-six when she finds her brother. Why did she get to be happy? Why did she not find him sooner? She wasn't. She tried, and she was so close. Cellbit is twenty-six when he gives up his knife to Bad. He'll get better use out of it. Cellbit is twenty-six when he picks up a different blade. His mouth is filled with the taste of iron again. He wants his son back. He wants the children back. Rage consumes his very soul. Bagi is twenty-six when she realizes her brother is the murderer. 'Is he proud?' The question goes unanswered. Cellbit is twenty-six when he feels thirteen again. "Do you like it?" He asks, his voice far too soft. "You've gone soft." He hisses to his oldest friend. Cellbit is twenty-six when he confesses murder to his husband.

Cellbit is twenty-six when he enters hell for the second time in his life. Under the red sky feels like home. He feels alive. This time, Bad is his enemy. Cellbit is twenty-six when his son dies. Cellbit is twenty-six when he takes a final ten seconds to say goodbye. Cellbit is twenty-six when he hunts people down for fun with Baghera. Cellbit is twenty-six when he's sure the demon is lying to him. He feels empty again. Cellbit is still only twenty-six when he and Baghera are rescued by their children. A fresh start. Cellbit still feels empty.

Cellbit turns twenty-seven, and he celebrates. He celebrates with his son, his niece, and his oldest friend. They celebrate with fighting mobs.

Cellbit is just twenty-seven when his oldest friend, Bad, forgets his name. Cellbit is just twenty-seven when his mentor, Bad, forgets to write a letter. Cellbit is just twenty-seven when the question he asked long ago is answered. 'I'm proud of you, you know that, right?' Cellbit doesn't even know. Cellbit has just turned twenty-seven when the person who knows him the best, Bad, dies. Cellbit doesn't even know.

#qsmp #qsmp fanfiction (sorta)#qsmp drabble #qsmp writing #qsmp cellbit #qsmp badboyhalo #qsmp hgduo #qsmp mocking jays #i just i could be normal for five seconds #i hope yall enjoy!!! it's been a while since i posted a proper fic

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frostfires-blog · 7 months

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Bleach Hanakotoba Analysis Part 1 ~ OP16: Scar & ED31: Saihate

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Ichigo Kurosaki -> Gloriosa

Aside from the 13 other flowers—which are associated with each of the Soul Society’s thirteen court guard squads respectively—the Gloriosa is also pictured in Bleach’s sixteenth opening theme song. The Gloriosa is also called the glory lily, flame lily and climbing lily. It is known as Gurorioosa (グロリオサ) in Japanese. Its hanakotoba meanings are glory and bravery. In English floriography, they also symbolise passion, purity, beauty and pride. Its name is derived from the Latin word “gloriosus” which means splendid. This name was inspired by its bright, fiery colouration and majestic, wave-like petals. The symbolism invoked by the Gloriosa not only greatly commemorates Bleach’s grand return with the TYBW arc—but also greatly complements Ichigo’s character. Ichigo’s name means to “protect one thing” and he has lived up to his name by bravely fighting in a number of glorious battles to protect those important to him.

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[If you liked this post, check out part 2 (here) and part 3 (here)... Also, here's the link to my directory of other hanakotoba analysis posts (here)]

[P.S. I didn't cover any of the other flowers featured in this opening since I feel like their meanings are common knowledge amongst the Bleach fandom already since they are the insignia of the Gotei 13... But if you guys want me to cover them properly, then I can in another post. So let me know in the comments...]

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annie-creates · 1 month

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The biggest star

Pairing: Queen Ravenna x reader

Genre: fluff

Words: 1500

Note: It's another International Women's Day so let's celerate with something a little different this time, I got inspired by the Pearl's quote. There's not many Ravenna fics being written so I hope you'll like this one.

With the early morning sunrise you got out of bed ready to feed the few animals you took care of at your parents’ farm and prepare the dough for a fresh loaf of bread. Every morning started like this, ever since you could remember. You took care of your responsibilities and duties, cleaning around the house or taking care of some gardening. Your mother prepared all the goods you were going to be selling at the town market that day and your father tended to the fields and cattle.

“Don’t forget to get all the fresh eggs.” Your mom reminded you as you prepared today’s commodities.

“Yes mother.” You nod, no matter how old she had a habit of reminding you of everything, just to be sure.

The road to the town square was bumpy as always but lucky enough you didn’t live far away enough to encounter any robbers or muggers. There was a stall by stall, your neighbors selling baked pastries or meat. Your family’s business was more in eggs, milk and vegetables. You helped reach, pack and hand over packets amongst packets of goods, happy that today is gonna be a good day for your business. With the money you make you’ll buy other things you weren’t able to provide for yourself like flour or leaven.

“Mother, can I go take a look around?” You begged tired of standing in one place all day.

“Fine, but don’t take too long.” She waved you off.

Your eyes sparkled with joy and you took off exploring the town you knew all too well already. Back when you used to go to school you traveled here by foot almost daily, but since you turned thirteen you were tied up at the farm with work. You’ve learnt to read and count, but there wasn’t much more needed in your life. You lived day by day identical to the previous one and it was incredibly tiring to you. You wanted to see more of this world. Live in all the places the merchants who sometimes visited your town told everyone about.

As you neared a group of women with one of the queen’s guards in the middle, the gathering peaked your interest. It was known that queen Ravenna wasn’t one to visit around or get out of her castle too often, and the same was true for her guard. Sure, some of the lower ranked soldiers always overlooked gatherings like this, but this man’s uniform proved he was ranked much higher and was one of the closest to the queen, so his appearance was certainly unusual.

“Slowly, ladies, you all can take your chance tomorrow.” He commanded the crowd giving out some instruction slips. “Here, you, take one too.”

He pushed a pamphlet in your hand as soon as you got close enough to be within his reach. Reading the few lines written on there, you learned that the queen is looking for a handful of new maids and ladies fitting at the court to keep her company. Could this be the chance you’ve been waiting for? All the ladies chatted around you about how interesting and undeniable chance this was. One that comes only once in life. That got you convinced, even if they didn’t choose you in the end, you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself knowing you passed on such a chance.

When you got home that evening, you prepared dinner with a bit more enthusiasm and ate faster than anyone has ever seen you do before, ready for this day to end so the next one can begin. You took care of braiding your hair before going to bed to have some pretty waves in the morning, cleaning your face and brushing your teeth extra good. As you went to bed, you took a moment to pray to the universe.

“Please lord, make me the biggest star the world has ever known. So that I make it far, far away from this place.” You didn’t know what star you wanted to be, but as far as it got you a different life, you didn’t care.

You could hardly sleep from the excitement for the next day, rising even before the sun could and running around your chores the fastest and best you could. You got out your best dress you only used for weddings, funerals and church visits, hoping it would be good enough for the queen. Will you get to meet her? From what you heard her grace and beauty was like no other, and her magnificence preceded her. Ready for breakfast and to get to the part of town stated at the pamphlet in time, you arrive at the table.

“And where are you going off to in your best dress?” your mother wondered.

“There’s a selection for queen’s escort today in town, I thought I’d give it a shot.” You admitted unsure of your parents’ reaction.

“Queen’s escort? You?” she scoffed. “You better not slack on your duties because of this nonsense.”

“Of course not mother.” You didn’t expect your family to be supportive of your goals but it still stinged.

When you finally arrived at the town hall where the choosing was taking place, there were some more guards and other officiants. You’ve learnt they are the ones responsible for the first selection, picking only a few of the dozens of girls who auditioned to come to the castle and start learning all the tasks that come with living along the queen. Some would be then chosen as maids, some would find themselves amongst chefs or seamstresses and only a few would get the chance to become the queen’s escort. Or you could fail completely and they’ll send you back home as fast as you came.

As they picked and chose what girls to take with them and who to turn down, the lucky ones squealed with happiness and the other ones cried. When it came to your turn, two of the men examined you with eagle eye, finally deciding to let you pass. A big rock fell off your heart so hard it must have been heard through the hall. You were in. You were gonna come to the castle and learn to become one of queen’s closest people. You couldn’t believe your luck. As you stepped in their carriage and let it take you towards your new destiny, you hoped to not let anyone down, especially yourself.

As you arrived at the castle and got settled in crowded rooms for servants and valets, another harsh regime started. You spent days and weeks learning and observing all the different tasks performed around the place. Every night you went to sleep exhausted and every morning you had to get up with a smile on your face. But as some of the girls started falling off your hard endeavor started to pay off. After a few weeks you started learning around the queen, your first meeting being unforgettable.

“Good morning.” She greeted you from her throne and you all bowed low. “I see we have some great adepts here. I hope you all will raise to the occasion and become wonderful.”

She was fierce and strong, that much was evident. All the stories of her beauty fell short as she looked like the embodiment of an angel to you. It was a moment you couldn’t get out of your head for a long time and every time your training got hard, you reminded yourself that this is exactly what you’re going through all this for. To serve the queen however she pleases. Her charm and grace hardly left your mind and with every meeting you worshipped her more and more. You were so smitten with her character and glamor you felt like you could hardly breath sometimes.

After two months spent with the queen you all were finally done with your training ready to become permanent residents of the castle. You hoped and prayed wherever they assigned you you’d get to meet her at least sometime. Only being in her company would make you eternally grateful. You didn’t know if you could live it the same place knowing she could be right behind the wall yet never seeing her really. Some of the girls who became your friends over the time were sent to the kitchen, some became maids and charladies. There it was again, the stone on your heart hoping to not be sent home after all your efforts, hard work and dedication.

“And you.” The queen herself stood in front of you in all her beauty. “How would you like becoming my personal escort?”

Your eyes lit up with her offer, hardly believing what your ears were hearing. Little did you know your infatuation with her impressed her and she too enjoyed your particular company. This was going to be the start of a wonderful future for you both.

“Yes, my queen.” You bowed to Ravenna stepping towards your new exciting life.

#queen ravenna fluff #queen ravenna #queen ravenna x you #queen ravenna x reader #snow white and the huntsman #snow white #charlize theron x reader #charlize theron x you #charlize theron

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may--hawk · 26 days

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Thirteen Ways of Looking at Anthony J. Crowley

Summary:

Aziraphale’s learned that Crowley hates being perceived directly. Like a snake in the grass he likes to sidle, to sneak, to slip, to avoid exposure. It’s the reason behind the dark glasses, the reason he drives so fast, the reason he never stays still, never relaxes. It’s hard, sometimes, when Aziraphale’s true form has so many eyes, and all he really wants to do is watch Crowley.

Crowley’s eyes are lovely. Sometimes yellow, sometimes brown, often guarded, they move snakily - they dart, they track side to side, they stare, unblinking. And Aziraphale sees them so little. Still, Aziraphale supposes, it is Crowley’s prerogative. Aziraphale remembers when Crowley had first started hiding his eyes. It had been Uz, and Aziraphale had thought at first it might be a passing fad; Crowley was always so informed on the latest human fashions. Occasionally, Aziraphale wondered if he had invented a few himself.1 But as the centuries passed and Crowley’s glasses only grew larger, and darker, and hid his eyes more effectively, Aziraphale began to wish that perhaps, just once, he would take them off again.

And then perhaps his prayers - so to speak - are answered, because he and Crowley both end up, independently, at the Heian Court at the turn of the first century in what will later become Kyoto. They each have their own assignments: Aziraphale to influence a particular marriage, Crowley, apparently, to encourage the young women of the court to write books that will, he assures Aziraphale, lead to something called a live journal. Eventually.

One morning in the first month they find themselves part of the Court’s expedition to Mount Hiei to observe the snowfall; all members of the expedition are each to write a poem, and then present it, later, to the Emperor for his judgement. So the court sets off, a band of courtiers in brightly-colored over-robes, the women carried along in their carriages, hanging their sleeves gracefully out the open windows to whisper over the snow.

Aziraphale’s fallen behind, watching the humans enjoying themselves, watching Crowley, a little further ahead, up to his usual petty mischief. Crowley sidles around the senior court officials, whispering in their ears. What’s he’s suggesting soon becomes clear as they gather up handfuls of snow and stuff them into the women’s dangling exposed sleeves. Aziraphale hears feminine squeals and screams, and the women’s arms disappear back into the carriage, only to reemerge with triumphant palmfuls of snow. Splat. Crowley, smiling slightly at a job badly done, saunters back, slowly, to join Aziraphale.

“You are impossible,” Aziraphale sighs, raising his hand to his eyes to shield them from the sun, which is strong in the sky behind Crowley. He winces a little. He’s still not used to the blinding nature of snow in sun, has spent too much time in temperate climes. Besides, he’s still not sure about this whole snow thing. It’s cold, it’s wet, and its brightness reminds him of Heaven. Aziraphale must be making a face at this thought, because Crowley sighs, then, reaching up and taking his own dark glasses off. He holds them out to Aziraphale, snapping the fingers of his other hand, suddenly holding a new pair, even more stylish than before.2 Aziraphale steps towards him, reaches out to take the glasses and - stops in his tracks.

Crowley looks like a woodcut, a stark print against the white wide expanse of snow, all around them unbroken and blinding. His dark, black silk robes make him stand out from his surroundings like a blackbird; his hair, red and long and dark, spills loose and curling down his back in an approximation of the women’s style of the Court. Blood on the snow, sharp and present. And his eyes - Crowley’s eyes today are fiercely warm, soft amber, opaque and lovely, the dramatic black slash of his pupils and the whites of his eyes making them stand out like rare beads. Crowley’s mouth opens; he stops, frowning. His eyes flicker over Aziraphale, up his body, across his face, come to rest on his own. Aziraphale feels pinned, like a small animal of prey, and he makes a noise, a half-breath, and then the others, turning and seeing that they’ve fallen behind, call out, breaking the spell between them.

Crowley slides his new glasses on and Aziraphale does the same. It helps with the glare. It helps with - a lot of things, really. He finds he can watch Crowley, as they hurry to catch up - well, Aziraphale hurries, and Crowley saunters, and somehow they end up there at the same time.

Aziraphale’s poem, later, is simple and plain.3 It’s largely ignored in favor of the more objectively lovely or ostentatious poems - those about the moon, or plum blossoms, or green shoots, although Shonagon shoots him a sidelong glance when he reads it aloud. Crowley’s in the back of the room, arms crossed, leaning against a thin partition, and Aziraphale’s half-afraid he’ll fall through, but he doesn’t: the perfect balancing act. His face, under the new glasses, reveals nothing at all. Not for the first time, Aziraphale wonders what his eyes are doing, what they look like now. If they’re fixed on Aziraphale. He has that strange prickling sensation over his skin he’d had before that rather suggests they are.

When Aziraphale leaves the court behind, assignment satisfactorily concluded, Shonagon gives him a series of parting presents, on behalf of her household. Largely consisting of sumptuous robes of blue and gold silks, one robe in particular stands out: black and red, embroidered with golden stars, it is lovely, and very obviously not meant for Aziraphale. “Thank you,” he says to her, “It’s lovely,” and she only smiles, and flutters her fan, and darts a glance over to Crowley, who is, coincidentally, departing court at the same time.

Aziraphale has always meant to present the robe to Crowley, of course, but at first it’s a few centuries before he sees him again, and then Crowley’s a knight errant, and brings up that absolutely vexing argument, and so it slips Aziraphale’s mind. The robe is still hanging in Aziraphale’s wardrobe, carefully pressed between the others. It occurs to him, every now and again, that he’d like to see Crowley wear it. Crowley will be delighted - Oh, Shonagon, he’ll say, with that little smile he gets when remembering particular humans he was fond of. I remember Shonagon. Whatever happened to her? 4 He and Shonagon, Aziraphale remembers, had gotten on like a house on fire. Shonagon had always had good taste. The robe will look exquisite, of course, paired with Crowley’s unmasked eyes.

Keep reading at:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54704443

#good omens #good omens fic #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #aziraphale #aziraphale/crowley #my fic

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year

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Midnight Blades {8}

Aemond Targaryen x princess!reader (Dark!themes) Summary: Messes and mistakes made in the heat of the moment come back to haunt you. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, murder, violence, dark!Aemond has returned, sexual threats WC: 2372

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five || Part Six || Part Seven || Part Eight || Part Nine || Part Ten || Part Eleven || Part Twelve || Part Thirteen || Part Fourteen || Part Fifteen || Part Sixteen || Part Seventeen || Part Eighteen || Part Nineteen || Part Twenty ||

“Try to distract me as much as you please,” you growled across the table to where your husband sat, “but I will see my soldiers one way or another.”

You no longer had an appetite to break your fast and pushed the platter of cold carved meat away. Aemond dragged the plate to himself and piled it high onto a fresh loaf of bread and you couldn’t fathom where he put it all.

“If I were trying to distract you, we would be in our chambers otherwise engaged in far more erotic activities instead of arguing. This is hardly an enjoyable part of my morning, no matter how often we repeat it.”

“Then escort me to the camp and we shall be done with this argument once and for all,” you countered, his lips pressing in a firm line and his knife threatening to bend under his grip. “The King is your brother, can you not petition for your wife?”

Aemond’s hand slammed the table, embedding the knife deep into the grain. “What my brother would ask in return for such a favour is not something I could give him.”

“What…” your words trailed off as you caught the haunted look in his eye. “Oh.”

“The people may believe I am the monster within these walls, but my mother and father protected Aegon from any such scrutiny.”

Resisting the urge to press for more information, you mulled over what he had already given you as you nibbled on a cracker. After another helping of cold cuts, Aemond rose and narrowed his eye at the untouched food on your plate but kept his comments to himself, not wishing to invite himself to another argument so soon.

“If you are not distracting me in the Keep, what is your plan for me today?” you asked as he pulled your chair out and offered his hand.

“My sister has found herself without a companion for her walk through the gardens.”

You could surmise it was because the court ladies found the Queen quite strange and used any excuse to avoid the daily walks. It didn’t help that the Queen often stopped to collect all manner of strange creatures to converse with along the way.

Aemond parted ways with an amused smirk and a sarcastic bow outside Helaena’s receiving room, the door doing nothing to dampen the loud cries of spoiled children fighting within. The guards seemed immune to the noise or at least accustomed to hearing it each day and you clenched your fist from giving their prince a vulgar gesture as he left.

You would much rather spend the day training with him, or at least watching him spar with Ser Criston before retiring for the afternoon in the library. But, the opportunity to be alone with the Queen did have its own merits and you were planning to use it to your advantage.

“Look at the pretty sparrow,” Helaena drawled softly as she stared at the large Weirwood tree. “She’s building her nest.” You narrowed your eyes trying to spot the small bird but with the thick red leaves kept the branches from your sight. “Her children will fly too.”

You rolled your eyes at the obvious statement and plucked a blade of grass from where you sat. Wishing the sun to descend faster, you tried a different strategy and hoped to prompt a useful foretelling from the soothsayer. “As fascinating as bird life is, what news have you from the worms?”

Helaena frowned and the half dazed look in her eyes cleared with a shake of her head. “Worms can’t talk.”

“Of course not,” you muttered to yourself before noticing her cheeks turning pink. “It may be time to retire, your grace, Solaris is quite fierce today.”

“You mustn’t mention the false gods here,” Helaena whispered as she looked around the empty garden before something she spied stole her fluttering attention. Darting off with a billow of her skirts, the Queen sashayed across the path, dancing to a song only she could hear and you hefted yourself from the ground to follow. Perhaps Ser Negan was correct.

You were exhausted when you finally found yourself climbing the stairs back to your chambers. The hours had quickly passed after reuniting Helaena with her children, you had been enthralled by a tome filled with the history of the dragons and their riders. Such recounts had been destroyed during the purges in Essos so it was intriguing to find the succinct but seemingly accurate book at your fingertips.

It was only when the light grew too dim to continue reading, and the wall sconces couldn’t provide the necessary light, that you left.

“What is this?” you asked Brinna. The whale bone corset that rested beside the dress prepared for the evening meal was an oddity, something that wasn’t generally worn in the Red Keep. You ran your fingers across the hard boning that aimed to hold the body into shape with a restrictive nature.

“A gift from Alicent,” Brinna admitted, flinching as your lip curled. “It is to celebrate the Seven at the feast, tonight is for The Mother - after passing the full moon.”

The room lilted and your legs felt unsteady as you dropped the corset and rushed to the window, casting the curtains aside to see the waning moon glowing above the dark horizon, your hands shaking at the sight. Laughter drifted on the breeze from somewhere in the Keep but it felt like a personal message from the stars, that they had abandoned you.

“It can’t be.” Your throat constricted as you opened your trunk and found the linen strips ready and waiting for your monthly cycle. The clean rags taunted you as your mind raced through the last moon cycle and a string of expletives dark, enough to make Brinna blush, tumbled from your lips.

“Ah, I always wondered how ladies of the court spoke when unsupervised,” Aemond announced his arrival with an amused tone.

“You fucking prick!” you hissed as you grabbed Midnight’s handle from inside the trunk and turned on him. “You and your fucking prick are to be removed from one another.”

The amused smile dropped at the acidic anger in your voice, his own fist curling around his dagger. “That time of the cycle is it, love? What have I done now? Pray tell.”

A scream of pure rage tore from your throat and you swore an echo of it thundered from the Dragon Pit far across the city. “I am with child, and to a fucking Targaryen.”

Aemond’s hand fell limp from the pommel and his lips parted, “Do not jest.”

“Do I look like I am jesting?” you asked as you pressed your blade to his throat, and he made no attempt at stopping you. “And, your meddling bitch of a mother already knows. I bet she was the one who tampered with my tea.”

His eye flashed with hurt but it was quickly followed by anger and he wrapped his hand around your blade, unflinching as it cut his palm as he pulled it away and threw it at the brick wall. He closed the distance and caught your jaw in his bloody hand, squeezing your cheeks together and silencing your complaint as he spat, “Lying bitch, I should have fucking chained you to the bed.”

He thought back to the nights you would often take tea, how you told him it was a herbal diffusion to aid with restful sleep, and he laughed humorlessly. It had not come from the maesters so he had not thought anything of it, he had even occasionally poured the steeped liquid into your cup and passed it to you. He felt like a fool.

He pushed your head away and your neck protested the shove but you let the rage blind you to the pain. “You propositioned me, Aemond! You forced this marriage upon me to breed me like a prized mare so you could have an army at your disposal, but there was no clause stating I could not take contraception.”

Aemond looked at Brinna who was trying to ease into the shadows but the movement only brought his attention to her and he unsheathed his sword. “If anything happens to our child, princess, I will have the city guard sweep through your beloved camp and bring me the head of every last soldier. For now, I shall take that of the one who delayed this.”

You couldn’t move fast enough and Midnight was too far away, the sapphire pommel shattered on the ground beside it. There was nothing you could do as he swung the long sword, severed Brinna’s head from her body. The wet thud turned your stomach and you trembled as her head came to a stop before you, the silent scream frozen on her terrified face.

Brinna’s blood seeped into the hem of your dress and you looked away as the metallic scent permeated the air, turning your blurred vision to Aemond as he wiped his blade clean on his cloak. “The people are right, you are the fucking monster in this place.”

“Don’t forget it, my love,” he sneered at you before sheathing his sword and throwing the door open to address the guards. “My wife is not to leave her chambers unless I permit it, understood?”

“Yes, Prince Aemond,” they answered, their eyes widening at the sight of Brinna’s body soiling the stone. “Shall we call for your mother?”

“No need,” Aemond growled as he stalked out of the room, “I am to have words with her now.”

“Eat,” Alicent begged, if begging was something she could do, mayhaps it was gentle ordering. “You must eat for the babe.”

The stone floor was still stained red from Brinna’s lifeblood, the stone that Alicent now stood with her hands gesturing to the table laden with food. The blood had filled the cracks and crevices so no matter how hard the maids scrubbed it would not erase the evidence of what transpired.

You turned your nose up at the food and returned to watching over the city from the bay window. “I will eat when I am no longer a prisoner.”

“You are a smart woman,” Alicent said with a tone that negated the compliment, “did you not think my son would find out your treachery?”

“Not that you give two shits, apologies, not that you truly care, but a child was inevitable.” You turned to face her as you closed the book on your lap. “Surely as a mother you could understand the want to save a child from this looming conflict, mothers and babes are but pawns to be used in the game of Kings and Queens. I would have done my duty, there was no need to tamper with my tea.”

Alicent’s brows pinched together and her lips parted twice before she gave a short laugh. “You think this was my fault? Good gracious, dear, you hold me in too high esteem. I did not know, suspected, but did not know for certain you were taking anything until my son came to me. Whatever the fault, it was not of my doing.”

“You gifted me a corset to hide a growing belly, you knew I was with child.”

Alicent shrugged and offered a small smile. “I make it my duty to know when a lady in my court is late for her cycle. It was a precautionary gift.”

The silence of the room only exasperated the thumping of your heart as you failed to sense the lie, or perhaps she was just that clever. Unwilling to let her see how affected you were, you busied your hands trying to find your last page and let her stand rigidly in place. After a moment she realised there was not going to be any headway made this day and turned to the door.

Your head whipped around as you heard raised voices on the other side and Alicent raced to intercept the brothers quarrelling in the hall. Discarding the book, your fingers curled around the blade tucked into your boot and prepared to face your husband for the first time since he had you locked away twelve sun cycles ago.

“She already has one Targaryen in her, what’s another?” Aegon asked callously, his words slurred. “Come now, brother, you owe me for opening your eyes to the pleasure a whore can give. You can repay me by sharing yours.”

Whatever response Aemond had for Aegon was too quiet to hear with the killing calm that you were familiar with but the thump on the door that followed made you both jump. Alicent tore the door open and Aegon stumbled through, falling to the floor at her feet as Aemond pushed past and knelt at his head.

Aemond had forgone the control he used to keep tightly leased and you hated that your body reacted to him, even after making a prisoner of you.

“Aegon!” Alicent gasped at the sight of her sons’ state. “Aemond!”

“I just want to have a little fun,” Aegon groaned. “It’s not like you're using her.”

Aemond ignored his mother and grabbed a handful of Aegon’s wild hair, turning the king’s head to face him. “King or not, brother or not, there will be no hole deep and dark enough for you to crawl to escape what I will do to you. She. Is. Mine.”

Click here for Part Nine.

Taglist: @hopebaker , @xcharlottemikaelsonx , @mariamyousef702 , @marrianena

#aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd fanfic

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thelifeinmyshadesofgrey · 1 year

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Let's try to look forward. We are the Thirteen Court Guard Squads, aren’t we?

#bleach #bleach thousand year blood war #bleach tybw #tybw spoilers #shunsui kyoraku #kyoraku shunsui #soi fon #bleachedit #nad edits #animanga

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bagginshieldlibrary · 2 months

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Canonverse list!

GIF by itscrochetnotknit

We're starting off with Oak and Mistletoe by HildyJ.

Summary: After a life dominated by a strange form of sickness, Thorin is sent to the Shire to seek a cure only Bilbo Baggins can offer.

Rating: Teen and Up

Word count: 55,643

This is not really your traditional Canonverse fic. Erebor never fell but Thorin is "cursed" and Bilbo is their last hope for a cure, due to his skills. Its a really good exploration of emotions and senses and how sometimes all we really ever need is a change of perspective.

There is a second Explicit part that is not linked to the fic so I've put it here.

Our next fic is Roses of Iron by Porphyrios

Summary: Two years after Bilbo returned from his adventures, he's made his peace with being back in the Shire. He still wonders what might have happened if things were different, but figures all that is behind him now. A mysterious visitor turns out to be someone he never thought he'd see again, and he's shocked by the news he hears.

Rating: Mature

Word count: 152,426

This fic is a work of art. The added lore, the explorations of both Bilbo and Thorin's character, the exploration of the dwarrow culture, and how how the story flows. Its a long fic but it's not a slow burn, in my humble opinion.

Here we have The Age of Miscommunication by SilverSkiesAtMidnight

Summary: “It’s got such a presence to it, even from a distance,” Bilbo says softly, and there’s a general murmur of awed agreement from the others. “Why, in all my fifty years, I never thought I’d see such a thing, and we haven’t even arrived yet!”

Thorin’s sword hits the ground with a clatter, and Balin chokes on his pipe.

The hobbit doesn’t look at Thorin, too busy thumping Balin on the back. Once the dwarf seems able to breathe again, he looks up, to find thirteen wide pairs of eyes fixed on him.

“What?” he says defensively, though he’s not sure what he’s defending.

“You’re how old?” Kíli squeaks.

Bilbo frowns at the young dwarf. “I’m fifty years old. Well, fifty-one, come springtime. Though it is not very polite to ask someone their age so bluntly,” he tells him primly.

Fíli makes a choked sound, and Nori lets out a vicious string of swears in Khuzdul."

Rating: Teen and Up

Word Count: 6,683

A comedy and a half. The company reacts drastically to finding out the age difference between hobbits and dwarves. I laughed, giggled and eye rolled at the theatrics.

Our first explicit fic rec is young savage things/ barely worth remembering by pomgore

Summary: For a moment, Thorin looks winded, his eyes wide and his jaw set tightly like Bilbo has wrung him out to dry. He seems out of his depth—it’s written all over his face, really—and Bilbo would be moved to sympathy if he didn’t know that somehow, this warranted Thorin seeking him out in the middle of the night. He remains guarded for both of their sakes.

“I have never courted anyone before, and I was not educated in the art before the dragon came.”

“Alright.”

“If I remember correctly, you have been- involved, with other hobbits before.”

“... I have.”

“Please teach me how to kiss.”

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 8,649

This fic ripped my heart out and then healed me. Its written in away that makes you want more and more, just like Bilbo and Thorin.

And last but certainly not list we have Songs in the Dark by Leoandlancer

Summary: After the resolution of the Battle of Five Armies and the beginning of the restoration of Erebor, Thorin and Bilbo are still carefully, and respectfully, distant to each other. Each certain the other wants nothing to do with them after the betrayals they've committed. However, trapped by a cave-in while exploring the lower halls, Thorin and Bilbo are suddenly, and unavoidably thrown together and slowly they begin to sort things out.

Rating: Teen and up

Word count: 13,400

Close quarters apologies and reconciliation, angst and fluff. Thorin singing. Really this fic hits all the delightfully good spots for one so short.

Also this fic is locked so you need an account to read.

0 notes

#the hobbit #bagginshield #thorin oakenshield #bilbo baggins #hobbit #thorin #fanfic #canonverse #Bagginshield library #fic rec list

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shadybirdwombat · 2 months

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Sorscha and Jesminda both beheaded by their lovers fathers.

Dorian and Lucien both bound. One by a collar and one by a mask.

Chaol and Tamlin both feel in love with fierce women. Than left by them. Also the most hated characters in their series.

Manon and Elain both run away from romantic love. Fae Elain not human. Does this mean Elain has Blueblood witch ancestry.

Chaol went on healing journey. What if Tamlin is cursed from everything. So he falls in love with a healer from dawn court.

Lucien and Elain are very similar to Manon and Dorian.

Hear me out. Dorian is besties with his friends ex. Lucien was besties with his friends ex.

Sjm has said both Dorian and Lucien would get along.

Both are considered rakes.

Than they both have feelings for a guarded iron walled female. Remember elain's mind is filled with unbloomed flowers and an iron gate. Manon iron teeth witch.

Abraxos loves flowers. We don't know the abuse Elain suffered from her grandma or mom . We only know Nesta and Feyre.

Nesta similar to asterin. Both abused by their grandma.

Both Dorian and Lucien told if I offered you the moon on a string.

The sad part is Elain could find friends like the thirteen. Though not warriors. They end up dying or the twins.

This is a crack theory. Though if you think really hard

I want to say Elain isn't a warrior type like Manon. Though she's similar in love matters. Not sex there's a difference. Both characters avoid feelings.

Dorian and Lucien both feel and love. Through the trauma from their fathers. Also what if Beron is under koschei's spell and has been for a while.

I hate Beron. I hated Dorian's dad too. He surprised me in the end.

The similarities between the characters. Albeit seem small. They exist. Asterin and her hunter. Similar to Cassian and Nesta. People say Manon is like Nesta. Nesta is similar to asterin. Grandma archeron would have beaten Nesta if she was pregnant with an unworthy man's baby. Also Nesta would never punish her sisters physically.

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silversoulsociety · 1 year

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The original Thirteen Court Guard Squads

Bleach: sennen kessen hen ✩ E7

#bleach #bleach spoilers #bleach tybw #bleach sennen kessen hen #bleachedit #dailyanimatedgifs #anisource #anime #anime gifs #my gifs #fyanimegifs #userjune #yamamoto genryusai #original 13 court guards #oroedits

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fateandloveentwined · 9 months

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long darkness — cháng yīn 长喑 translation

cháng yīn 长喑 // long darkness

a fan-made song on Xiao Jingyan. I have always been a Mei Changsu over XJY person, but this song from his pov really worked for me and let me see the weightedness of XJY's crown, so I wanted to share it with more.

song link in comment below. (bilibili . com / video / av10441457/)

长剑出鞘冷锋芒十三载意难忘

缓歌曼舞九重宫朔风黄沙麾旗扬

手足血脉埋青冢挚友良弓唯锈藏

岂能折腰屈膝没忠良

the long sword unsheathes from the scabbard, its cool blade revealed. thirteen years, and hard it is to forget.

leisured, soothing melodies with graceful dances at the ninefold palace; north wind and yellow sand with the billowing ensign in the desert. *[1]

brothers-in-arms and brothers in blood in tombs buried, graves long covered in grass; dear friends and cherished bow stored away, now left only to rust —

how is one to bend and kneel, and bury the names of the honourable and the good?

挑灯不眠千军帐逐千里护家邦

玉壶冰心铁骨铮扬眉冷看覆风浪

当时少年且横枪凝尽碧血守四方

守国土河山定国安邦

light a lamp through the unrested nights at the commander’s tent; repel foes a thousand miles, and shield the kingdom.

nobility and aspirations stayed true to, bones of steel resounding. head high, brows lifted, he coolly looks to the tempestuous, overturning storms. *[2]

the youth of the past still danced their spears: blood of the honourable, thoroughly consecrated, defends the four corners of their homeland,

guarding rivers and hills to secure peace of the kingdom’s earth.

(念白：我不要求你能理解，什么是军人铁血，什么是战场狼烟，但有些人，不能伤害，有些事，不能利用。如果连那些血战沙场的将士都不懂得尊重，我萧景琰绝不与你为伍，清楚了吗？)

V/O — I do not expect you to understand a soldier’s honour or the smoke signals on the battlefield. But there are some people you cannot hurt, some things you cannot manipulate. If you cannot even respect the soldiers dying at the battlefront, I, Xiao Jingyan, will never work with you. Do you understand?

铁马金戈谈笑并辔封疆几回魂梦

凤阙深深夜雨潇潇数闻铃

鸿儒谈笑对面不知相逢唯知君臣纲

音容早已远谁知苍凉

armoured horses and metal spears, riding in parallel in friendly chatters at the borderlands — how many times has the soul dreamt thus?

depths of the palace, whistling of the nightly rain, a few stray rings of the bells. *[3]

an erudite scholar, now sat opposite in small smiles converse, yet know not to reunite. what leaves is the etiquette of lords and lieges. *[4]

voice and countenance long since distanced — who is to know the desolation and vicissitudes concealed?

谈笑自若朝堂对气轩昂霁月风光

风云激荡历艰辛终执牙璋

漫漫更鼓朱笔落夜未央提笔写兴亡

四顾怅惘余音且绕梁

composed in dialogue and pleasantries, assured and imposing at court. he is noble and virtuous as the bright moon and warm breeze.

wading through the unpredictable winds and turmoils, zhang sceptre of jade at last in hand.

drums signifying the night hours sound, red comments from the emperor’s brush move through the boundless night yet to end. a lift of the brush, and prosperities and declines are writ. *[5]

pensive and lost he looks to four sides. remnants of past sounds remain, resonating through the beams of the palace.

(verse 2)

潜龙在渊敛锋芒风雷动引龙翔

风云际会参参商瞰天下世道无常

掌中龙渊凛如霜立丹陛守盛世长

祭酒未凉叹谁人共觞

like a submerged dragon in the abyss, he enshrouds his splendour. wind and thunder call his wings to flight. *[6]

in the winds and clouds, he engages in the tumult of the Shen and Shang constellations. from above he looks down at the fickleness of the world.

in his hands, the abyss of the dragon is cold as frost; he stands at the red stairway before the imperial palace, and overlooks an everlasting prosperity.

the wine offering to the dead is yet to cool — I sigh, who is to drink with me?

袖手天下为帝王垂衣且驭八荒

气宇舒金殿垂拱揽尽山河只手倾

长歌挽弓射天狼潜龙一朝御风翔

乾坤日月昭天下清朗

hands folded in sleeves, he gazes at the kingdom before him. as emperor he rules from his attire and directs even the most distant lands. *[7]

with poised air he commands the court, hands held together; the entirety of the kingdom shifts with a tilt of his hand. *[7]

sing high and long; draw your bow to the invading Sirius. the submerged dragon one morn rises to ride the winds. *[8]

heaven and earth, and sun and moon clears, and the world before brightens.

铁马金戈谈笑并辔封疆几回魂梦

凤阙深深夜雨潇潇数闻铃

鸿儒谈笑对面不知相逢唯知君臣纲

音容已故徒一身沧桑

armoured horses and metal spears, riding in parallel in friendly chatters at the borderlands — how many times has the soul dreamt thus?

depths of the palace, whistling of the nightly rain, a few stray rings of the bells. *[3]

an erudite scholar, now sat opposite in small smiles converse, yet know not to reunite. what leaves is the etiquette of lords and lieges. *[4]

voice and countenance already bygone, all but a body of desolation remains.

谈笑自若朝堂对气轩昂霁月风光

风云激荡历艰辛终执牙璋

漫漫更鼓朱笔落夜未央提笔写兴亡

从此立龙城孤守八方

composed in dialogue and pleasantries, assured and imposing at court. he is noble and virtuous as the bright moon and warm breeze.

having waded through the unpredictable winds and turmoils, zhang sceptre of jade at last in hand.

drums signifying the night hours sound, red comments from the emperor’s brush move through the boundless night yet to end. a lift of the brush, and prosperities and declines are writ. *[5]

from forth he establishes himself in the imperial city of dragons. alone, he awatches the eight corners of his realm. *[9]

Extra notes

for those keen on classical chinese and literature allusions

I’ve cited some allusions and references I was reminded of as I listened to the song. These are subjective, my knowledge of classical texts is very limited, take everything with a grain of salt and please do comment if you’d like to supplement any information.

[1] 缓歌曼舞九重宫朔风黄沙麾旗扬 — 《长恨歌》白居易 The Song of Everlasting Regret, by Bai Juyi

缓歌曼舞: from “缓歌慢舞凝丝竹”. This is at the start of the romance tale, where the palace is in carefree bliss and prosperity.

slow and graceful songs / slow dances / slowly the music of the strings and the bamboo reverberate in step with the dances.

朔风黄沙麾旗扬: might be a stretch; I was reminded of “黄埃散漫风萧索”. This is from the same poem as above, we are one fourth in here, and it talks of a war.

yellow dust, scattered, drifts through the air. the bleak wind howls.

[2] 玉壶冰心铁骨铮 — 《芙蓉楼送辛渐》王昌龄 Bidding Xin Jian farewell at Furong Tower by Wang Changling

玉壶冰心: from “洛阳亲友如相问，一片冰心在玉壶”

if the relatives and friends from Luoyang ask, tell them that my noble intentions are unchanged; a heart of ice in the vase of jade.

[3] 凤阙深深夜雨潇潇数闻铃 — 《长恨歌》白居易 The Song of Everlasting Regret, by Bai Juyi

夜雨潇潇数闻铃: again could be a stretch; I was reminded of “夜雨闻铃肠断声” from the same poem as [1]. (don’t ask me why, this entire song is infused with this piece it feels). This talks of the same romance tale, in which the emperor mourns the death of his beloved.

in the nightly rain, the sound of the bells could be heard. it sounds as sorrowful and agonising as the breaking of intestines.

[4] 鸿儒谈笑对面不知相逢唯知君臣纲 — 《陋室铭》刘禹锡 An Inscription of the Humble Abode by Liu Yuxi; 《江城子》苏轼 Jiang Cheng Zi, by Su Shi

鸿儒谈笑: from "谈笑有鸿儒，往来无白丁" credits to @fwoopersongs because my brain happily omitted it!

well-learnt scholars congregate in joyous talk, traversing there is no uncouth and unread.

不知相逢: there are many poems on this topic, one of the most notable ones would be “纵使相逢应不识，尘满面，鬓如霜。”

even if we met (Su Shi and his deceased wife), you should not be able to recognise me. dust covers my face, and the hair of my temples is white as frost.

[5] 漫漫更鼓朱笔落夜未央 — 《长恨歌》白居易 The Song of Everlasting Regret, by Bai Juyi (added in edit)

漫漫更鼓: Okay, "迟迟钟鼓初长夜" immediately came to mind when I saw this phrase, but I went like here's too many footnotes already and thought it was too much of a stretch to put in (there's only one word in common!). Then I looked into the original poem, in which the timely bi-hour rings of the drum felt lengthened because of the emperor's agony over losing his loved one -- and so I went like, okay, this is relevant, I actually need to add this in.

the drums reporting the hour of the night come late, and it is early in the long night.

漫漫 meaning endless, without an end in sight. This echoes the sentiments of the emperor in Bai Juyi's poem in feeling that the night is everlasting and without end.

[6] 潜龙在渊敛锋芒 — 《易经》 Yi Jing, the Book of Changes

潜龙: There’s an awful lot of “submerged dragon” metaphors in this stanza. Technically it's a figurative "talents hidden dragon" rather than literally, under the waters. This is from Yi Jing essentially, a super old book on divination that does have some wisdom of old sayings in it. The submerged dragon talks of how the dragon, currently veiled, is a powerful being simply not revealed to worldly eyes yet, and is waiting for opportunity to strike (more like, soar, in this context). These lyrics parallel Xiao Jingyan with the allusion to talk about how he stayed silent for thirteen years before his time of brilliance.

[7] 袖手天下为帝王垂衣且驭八荒 / 气宇舒金殿垂拱揽尽山河只手倾 — Taoism concept

Okie this is super complicated and involves a Taoism context, some history from the beginning emperors of the Han dynasty, and a very enthusiastic Emperor Taizong of Tang; I don’t really know how to go about this.

袖手, 垂衣驭八荒, 垂拱, these all lead to the same concept, and the middle chunk in particular is from a poem written by Emperor Taizong of Tang. Theory suggested by Laozi and Zhuangzi of Taoism, overall it talks of inaction, which is action the emperors at the start of the Han dynasty employed. They demanded less of their citizens and let the economy recover naturally (agriculture and such), and since these policies worked, the starting few Han emperors were regarded highly with this kind of purposeful and benevolent “inaction”.

In short, this song here uses these descriptions to talk of Jingyan as a competent and masterful leader.

[8] 长歌挽弓射天狼 — 《江城子·密州出猎》苏轼 Hunting outside Mizhou (yet another Jiang Cheng Zi), by Su Shi

挽弓射天狼: from “会挽雕弓如满月，西北望，射天狼。”

I shall draw my carved bow like the full-moon, point towards the northwest, and shoot in the direction of the intruders.

天狼 means Sirius star. In chinese astronomy/astrology it was somewhat related to evilness, hence the use of Sirius to denote intruders.

[9] 从此立龙城孤守八方

I just added this this is not a reference it just really reminds me of this fanfiction oneshot 此生一诺 (this life, a pledge)! It talks about XJY at the end of everything, he draws a circle about the ground and entraps himself with the promise he made to see the world a better place under his reign (from the chinese idiom 画地为牢). I recced the oneshot here if you wish to check it out.

arghhh the entire course of me writing the tl was me going oh goodness why is there yet another footnote but I’m glad to be done for now.

Like, goodness. There is not one “he” or “him” reference in the lyrics. I would love to do the same, but you can see me getting more and more resigned towards the end of the translation.

I am sooo inclined to passive voice and invert subjects for every sentence when it comes to translations, I realise, and I apologise for the almost-signature abundance of semicolons and em dashes in the translation (I blame it on the difference in punctuation nuances. — I subconsciously use semicolons for semi-parallel sentence structures, so you can spot out imperfect couplets that way.) Massive respect to all those who translate, because easy is it to hatch out a crude translation in five minutes, it is not treading about the delicate balance between literal and metaphorical, and in all honesty I feel that it is just way easier for me to write literal once, then go off the rails and do super-figurative for the other.

There are far more annotations and word definitions I’d like to add (I could literally do a classical text/poetry meta for every word lmao), but evidently, time constraints, and truthfully it would take forever to complete, so on a “ask me and I’ll try to elaborate” basis again.

The V/O — I’d love to make it more archaic, but the dialogue from the drama in this part was so modern apologies I’m sort of disappointed with the translation over here.

Re: song title. Yes, it sounds a little weird, excuse that.

I considered other translations for the song title, but none of them really gave the impression I really wanted. Words like “eternal” and “everlasting” were too permanent, I wanted to express the idea of the darkness being lengthened, yet with Jingyan’s reign it would come to an end, hence my hesitance. “Continual” is one I fiddled with: it did not give the same curt, direct feeling as “long” however, so in the end I just ended up with the simplest title.

#nirvana in fire #琅琊榜 #nif #lyb #lang ya bang #xiao jingyan #chinese translation #chinese language #cdrama #chinese #literary chinese #classical chinese poetry #fate translates #fate creates

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