#{ Trust me when I say that I can be ten times more cruel than you can. }
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home : 1.09 pt2 — jess’s sister.
You manage to fall asleep in Dean’s bed when he tells you he’s awake for the day. It’s almost ten when your eyes are fluttering open and when you hear Sam saying:
“Just— Look, just— you gotta trust me on this, okay?”
“Okay, woah, woah, trust you?”
“Yeah.”
“Come on, man, that’s weak, you gotta give me a little more than that.”
“I can’t really explain it ‘s all.”
“Well tough, i'm not going anywhere until you do.”
You’re about to make it known that you’re awake, not wanting to spy in on their conversation. “I have these nightmares, sometimes they come true.” You shuffle in the bed and sit up slightly, Dean catches you and you both hold eye contact. His eyes widen slightly as Sam blurts out, “I dreamt about Jessica’s death for days before it happened.”
You’re sure you’re imagining the tugging of strings on your heart. It hurts too much to be real. It isn’t real. They both look back at you and you’re too stunned to say anything. You’re a light sleeper, always have been and Sam knew that.
Sam calls out your name, taking a step closer to your bed and you quickly throw the sheets off yourself to run into the bathroom.
You hide in there for a good twenty minutes before you’ve freshened up and you’re mentally ready.
Sam and Dean give you what they call ‘The Talk’. Or Dean does and Sam tries to contribute as much as he possibly can. You tell them they’re crazy and leave the room with your bag.
To think you trusted them just for them to feed you a half assed lie about, what? Demons and Werewolves?
Dean runs after you, he calls after you but you only stop when he has his hand on your shoulder. “I know it’s a lot to take in but you gotta believe us, okay? We didn’t— we wouldn’t lie to you.” You hold back from telling him that you’ve known him for hardly two months, seen him for all of three times.
He notices. “Sam wouldn’t, okay? And I wouldn’t either but I know that won’t mean much to you right now. He’s just confused on how to tell you everything, but you gotta trust him.”
“A supernatural ‘thing’ killed Jess?”
“Yes.”
“And it’s just convenient that you guys don’t know what the hell that thing is.” You scoff, pulling your body away from his. “You’re both so freakin’ cruel to even do this after Jess— my sisters gone and your response is the monster under her bed? I never want to see either of you again.”
You already feel tears in your eyes as you walk away. The only two people you thought would stand by you during the hardest moment of your life—
“Come with us.” You stop, looking up at the sky for a second. Too bright. “Come with us to Lawerance. See for yourself.”
You agree. You see. You feel your sanity slip.
#Image credit: nmlupin#spn sam winchester#spn dean winchester#dean winchester#jessica moore#supernatural imagine#supernatural#jess moore#Sam winchester#spn 1x09#spn rewatch#spn 1.09#dean winchester x reader#spn20rewatch#Sam Winchester x reader
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{ Just got back into the swing of writing again on another blog only to find out my grandma is in the hospital for heart issues. First it was my grandpa and now it's my grandma. I'm honestly starting to believe that things really can just keep getting worse instead of better cause nothing ever seems to get better over here. }
#tw; negative#tw; vent#{ Everything just wants to jump on top of me today. }#{ 'Don't worry! Things will get better!' Yeah I don't think so. }#{ It's been one thing after the other lately and honestly? It makes me not wanna do anything anymore. }#{ Catch me throwing myself off a cliff because what else can I do? }#{ Don't mind me trying to cover my irritation with humor. }#{ It's a habit. }#{ And any anons who wanna try to be rude about this or tell me to shut the fuck up- }#{ Y'all couldn't be further from my mind. Like... I don't care about your existence. }#{ You could catch on fire and I would not care because you're clearly a piece of shit anyway so burn. }#{ No skin off my back and I will literally tell you that. }#{ Trust me when I say that I can be ten times more cruel than you can. }#{ I just don't show it here on Tumblr. }#{ But yeah. Regardless... Imma turn your mouth off anyway so if you have something to say to mommy- You can say it to her face. }#✠ [ ' ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ʟᴇᴀᴅs ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ᴄʟᴏsᴇᴅ ᴅᴏᴏʀs. ' ] - ✡ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏғ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ✡
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HIIII CONGRATS ON 2K FOLLOWERS 🗣🗣🗣
Can I request prompt #32 with Mammon?! Where the brothers are doing their usual teasing of Mammon and it finally gets to him. He then goes to MC for comfort! Maybe cuddling involved? 👀
thank you! of course you can :)
i love a good hurt comfort with mammon
enjoy <3
prompt 32 w/ Mammon
You loved the brothers, no doubt. You’d all formed unbreakable bonds and you spent lots of time together. They loved each other too. But at the end of the day, they were demon who really did treat each other as siblings. They were downright cruel to each other at times. You understood to some degree, but you and your siblings never went that far. You would get into a loud argument, but about ten minutes later, be good friends again and give each other a helping hand. Maybe that’s how the brothers expected their relationship to be, but it felt like more times than not, they took things a little too far.
It was oddly quiet in the house. You and Lucifer were sitting in his room together. He was doing paperwork, while you tried planning the latest shenanigan that Diavolo had proposed. You occasionally asked him for advice or his opinion on something. From time to time, the two of you would randomly start to chat about things that happened to come to mind. It was nice to work in silence, but it did leave you questioning what the rest of the household was doing.
“Do you think I should try plan the venue set up around the ice sculpture, or the games? If the sculpture was in the center, it would definitely help elevate the overall elegance, but the games are the whole point of the event. I’m not really sure what Diavolo was thinking asking me to plan a classy, but fun event. It’s very him though, I will say.” You stared blankly at the paper you were sketching on. It was rather crude, but it was only the first draft.
Lucifer remained silent for a second. “Plan around the games. The sculpture can be at the far end of the venue. Still center, but helps put the focus on what Lord Diavolo wanted. Besides, who know what kinds of games he wants to plan? The more room the better.” Lucifer didn’t look up from his work, but you could tell he’d thought hard about what you’d said.
“Thanks. You’re right.” You went back to sketching, making note of what he said off to the side with your other little notes. The two of you sat in silence for a little while longer, before Lucifer spoke up again.
“It’s awfully silent. I think I’m going to go check up on everyone.” He abruptly got up. You had been thinking the same thing.
“Alright, I’ll stay here for now I think. If you have any issues, call me.” You had a few ideas you wanted to get down, alas you forget them.
“I’ll be back shortly.” He shut the door behind him, leaving you alone in his room. You thought about snooping a little, but that would be a breach of his privacy. Besides, how many people could say they were trusted so much so by Lucifer himself that they were left alone in his room? You continued to work, jotting down ideas that came to mind to bring up with Diavolo and Barbatos later.
When you finally looked up, you realized Lucifer still wasn’t back. With that, you got up and decided to look for him. He hadn’t called for you, but knowing him, he wouldn’t even if there was something wrong. The house was still silent. It gave you an icky sort of dread. Something was wrong. You grew more and more panicked by the minute, throwing open every door in the house in search of anybody, but to no avail. The last place you could think to check was outside.
Fortunately, they were all out there.
Unfortunately, some kind of conflict seemed to be happening.
You struggled to take in everything that happening, But, the first thing you zeroed in on was Mammon. He strangely wasn’t part of whatever was happening. He was sitting on the ground, head hanging and looking defeated. Ignoring everyone else, you quickly made your way over to him and knelt beside him. He didn’t even turn to acknowledge you.
“Mammon?” You took his hand, but you still got no reaction. You gently took his face in your other hand and turned it towards you. You’ll never forget the expression on his face. It was devoid of the joy and that smile you were so used to seeing. Instead, it was blank. It was eerie seeing him with a blank slate of an expression. He looked without looking, as if he didn’t even register you were there. “Mams. Let’s go inside.” You didn’t know what happened, but that could wait. Right now, you knew he needed to be away from the ongoing argument. They were so into the fight, they didn’t even notice the two of you leaving.
After you shut the door behind you, the din was deafened. No wonder you didn’t realize they were outside. You led Mammon back up to his room and locked the door behind the both of you. You knew he had some snacks and drinks in his mini fridge in case you needed them. You sat him down, and threw one of the blankets you’d left in his room around his shoulder. “What happened?” Now that the two of you were alone, you figured he might be more receptive to you.
Mammon turned to look at you: the most reaction you’d see out of him so far. He stared at you, and you held his hand comfortingly. He gazed at you, still with a mostly blank expression. “Yer too good to me.” He finally spoke.
“You deserve it. I don’t think I could imagine my life without you.” You were a little confused where all of this was coming from, making you wonder what might have happened.
“Well, my brothers could. They don’t need me.” He looked away from you again.
“What are you talking about? Of course they need you. This family wouldn’t be complete without you. You’re the great Mammon.” You tried to lift his spirits, but it didn’t seem to work.
“Ya’d think differently if you didn’t see me so positively. I’m a piece of scum.” You lent forward a little, trying to meet his eyes, but he fully turned away. He gripped your hand tighter. You sunk back into your chair, but he didn’t move back to how he was before.
“What’d they say?” You move his hand and held it to your chest.
“They told me I was a stain on the family and I didn’t deserve my title. That all I did was make their life harder. They said it in the heat of the argument, so maybe they didn’t mean it, but I’m starting to thing they’re right.” You felt your heart throb for him. It seemed as if he was past the point of tears, because you saw none now and before. He seemed almost numb to it all. If you didn’t know him, you’d just assume he was tired. But you did. And you knew just what you needed to say to try and help.
“You’re Mammon. You fought beside Lucifer and earned your spot fair and square. They might not see what makes you special, but I do.I got to know you much more recently than they did, but we’re so close. Did you ever stop to wonder why? You’re so sweet and loving to me, even early on. It was really great to know I could trust someone in this new and scary world. To me, you’re perfect. I don’t care what anyone else says. You’re my first demon, after all.” You spoke from the heart. “You light up my world, Mams. I’m really glad I met you.” While he was still facing away from you, you felt the grip on your hand soften a little.
“Do ya really think that?” He seemed tentative with his words, as if you might take them back any second.
He still seemed unsure, so you continued. “Think of it this way. Every choice you ever made led you here, and the same goes for me. Even if every choice was a bad one, which they weren’t, we still ended up here, together. You make my life better, and if I need to tell you it a million times, I will.”
“Really?” He finally turned back to look at you. His eyes were still free to tears, but a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
“Of course I do. Why else would I be here with you right now?” With that, Mammon tackled you into a hug. You playfully screamed, but hugged him back. He needed it. You let him have his moment, and the two of you remained snuggled up in your blanket on his bed. He rolled over, so you were on top of the cuddle hug now.
“I can’t be suffocating my human, now can I?” His signature smile was back. You were glad you were able to help him. You’d do anything for that smile.
“Prime example of you being sweet.” You laughed as he threw the blanket over your head. As much as he tended to deny it, he truly did love his human. You picked him up during times likes this and supported him no matter what, even when he tended to act prickly with his emotions. You were just what he needed in his life.
#2k followers special#obey me#obey me!#obey me x reader#obey me mammon#omswd#obey me shall we date#obey me! shall we datee?#obey me! shall we date#gn reader
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Prompt 1 - Accidental Eavesdropping
@wolfstarmicrofic May 1, word count 706
Remus curled into his favourite hiding place. Behind a tapestry, up a corridor and around a bend in a small chamber and above that chamber, there was a ledge with a window that looked out over the black lake.
It was quiet, and few knew of its existence, so sometimes, when things were getting on top of him, he liked to come here and hide out for a few hours with a good book.
Remus had been there only about ten minutes when he heard the sound of footsteps echoing off the corridor walls. Damn it, he thought as he shuffled closer to the window. Please go past. Please go past. He silently willed whoever it was using the shortcut. Please don’t know about the chamber.
But the pair did, and they entered through the obscured doorway, casting silencing charms as they did in case anyone walked past when they should have been more concerned with the six-foot seventeen-year-old trying to make himself as small as possible above them.
“The dreams are getting worse, Prongs. Last night, I dreamed we were in the shower, and it was all streamy, and then there was soap, and things started happening, and when I woke up, things had, you know, happened. James, what the fuck am I supposed to do?!” Merlin, James and Sirius had come to chat privately and there he was listening in because he was trapped on a window ledge.
“I mean, I think it's gone past simply fancying now and turned into a full-blown crush,” James said unhelpfully. Sirius groaned into his hands.
“I need you to help me, Prongs,” Sirius pleaded. “What should I do?” Girl trouble, Remus rolled his eyes. He didn’t feel bad about hearing what they said any more. The amount of times he’d heard about Sirius's latest girl crush. He went back to his book, blocking them out.
“Well, do you like him enough to ask him out?” James asked. Him? Sirius was interested in boys!!! Remus put his book away and crawled as close to the edge as he could without being seen.
“What if he doesn’t feel the same way, Prongs? What if he tells everyone? I don’t think I’m ready for everyone to see that side of me.” Remus could hear the panic and sadness in Sirius’s voice and wanted more than anything to wrap him in his arms and--
“He’s your best mate. He’d never do that to you. We’ve known him since we were eleven. Have you ever known him to be that cruel?” James had clapped a hand on Sirius’s back.
“I suppose so,” Sirius snuffled. “I need to get him on his own. Test the waters and see if he feels the same way. Will you help me, James?”
“Don’t be daft, of course, I’ll help you. Right, first things first, let's take a trip to Honeydukes.” James said brightly.
“I don’t need to go there, James. I need to plan what to say.”
“Right, and we can do that as we’re walking. Trust me, if you get some chocolate and give it to him. Remus will stay in the same room as you for at least five minutes, and you can make your move then.” Remus froze. Had James really just said Sirius wanted to ask him out? Sirius’s mystery crush was him. Remus wanted to fling himself out of his hiding place and launch himself at Sirius, confess he’d had the same feelings for so long. But the way Sirius had seemed so worried stopped him. He decided he’d make his way back up to the dorm room and wait there for him.
He waited for the sound of their feet to fade away before he unfurled himself and dropped to the stone floor. He’d never rushed so quickly up to Gryffindor tower as he did just then. He washed his face, combed his hair and made sure he had his softest jumper on.
A tap at the door alerted him to Sirius’s return.
“Hey, Remus, I got you something,” Sirius said shyly and held up Remus’s favourite chocolate bar.
This was it. Remus took a streaming breath and waited for what he’d dreamed of for years to finally, finally begin.
Second part
#wolfstar#wolfstar microfic#wolfstar angst#remus lupin#sirius black#dead gay wizards#remus john lupin#sirius orion black#james potter#sirius x remus#remus x sirius#sirius and remus#remus and sirius#remus's secret hiding places#the way to his heart is with chocolate#aww secret crush#the marauders era#the marauders#the marauders’ era#marauders era#accidental eavesdropping
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Writers and audience impact
I hate hate hate when the writers/ producers/ directors wait for the audience's reaction to see if they should push a pairing in or not.
Like wtf? By the time they get our reaction, we have already been fed a story. And some of us will have loved it and others hated it but it was the story they created. Changing the pairing later based on the fandoms is so f* stupid.
I have stopped watching countless of tv shows because of this.
Examples: Vampire diaries. I really liked it at that time of my life. And I liked Stefan and Elena. They were a bit too lovey-dovey and boring? Yes, but I liked them. The story was about them. The books too. But because Damon was more handsome and sexier and had, according to the audience, better chemistry with Elena, they decided to give what the audience preferred, going against the original book.
The 100 is an odd example. Everyone loved Bellamy and Clarke, they are also the romantic pairing in the book. But the tv show created such a deep profound connection between them that was better than the book. It was an enemies-to-lovers trope developed to perfection. But what did they do? They destroyed it in what seems to be a clear defiance of what the public loved and the book. It made no sense at all. I stopped watching when I realized it was going in that direction and decided to wait for the finale. And I'm so glad I did. Horrible thing. I hate even the memory of having loved it.
Another example. Never have I ever. Yes, Paxton was the hot boy that we should begin to hate at some point in a very cliché fashion. And Ben is the rival that will become a friend and then a lover. All good. But then they developed Paxton and Paxton was ten thousand times better than Ben. And by the end of season 1 and particularly season 2, I was sure Team Paxton had won. But I was wrong. There comes the shift. For 2 seasons I loved Devi and Paxton but then all that development and fairytale-like ending is put into the garbage and I am supposed to pretend it never happened because now the main pairing is Ben and Devi. I did not watch season 3 and season 4. To me, it ended in season 2 and what an amazing ending it was.
So yes, I was afraid that House of the Dragon would be the same. They created a story between Daemon and Rhaenyra in season 2 that was special and magical in a very hauntingly gothic fashion. It was perfection, the chemistry, the between-the-lines feelings, the desire, the attraction, the frustration. My god, we could feel it all. And every episode was so exciting because of that. People loved it, not everyone, but most people loved it. People were in love with Daemyra and with Daemon and with Matt Smith. There were hundreds of videos on youtube, pages on the internet talking about it, it was everywhere. It couldn't have been more successful. But the writers somehow, despite creating such a beautiful thing, were surprised that the public loved it so much. So they came out saying: you're seeing it wrong. Daemon is mean, evil, selfish and cruel and you need to see that. So they create a season 2 to make us hate daemon, to make us fall out of love with Daemyra. Yet they were fearful of pushing it too far so they still gave us a happy ending to keep us satisfied. But are they waiting to see if we have given up on Daemyra and would be more open to other pairings that they wish to introduce? I want to believe they won't do it, but do I trust it 100%? Of course not. Similarly, they are giving contrary information about Helaemond to see how we react and if they can push it or move away from it in season 3. I also think they didn't make Rhaena claim sheepstealer to see how fans would react to the potential elimination of Nettles. And I hate that they do it! Just be consistent, for god's sake! Write the damn story as you did before knowing how the public would react but be consistent with what you started.
#the 100#bellarke#vampire diaries#elena x stefan#elena x damon#daemyra#helaemond#house of the dragon
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Hello, hi. I hope that you are well and I hope you don't mind me kinda rambling in your inbox. I see that you've watched The Double! May I just say as great as the show was, I think I have one niggling issue with it, maybe two. The og Jiang Li was forgotten in the end and not even her father mourned her for real - as much as I love that Xue FF got her justice, that poor girl died not knowing that she was loved. It would have been nice to see her father, at least stand by her grave or something to remember her. Then Wanning(poor girl best girl mean girl)! I hate that she died like that. There was no way she was ever going to concede power to man after the treatment she received in that other kingdom, I don't even think that she wanted to corrupt Sheng Yurong, but her trauma will not allow her to trust or yield to man for any reason and I am so curious as to why she trusted her brother to be emperor knowing that she detests men in high positions. Lastly Jiang Li's fake pregnancy ploy was beyond cruel, of course she had no context, but to Wanning, it was everything. I cried for her. My heart broke her. Despised by her own people after what she endured for them, maybe a a little madness is not unrealistic. I cried when she cried. Wept with her. I hope this makes sense. Anyway, wish the show had more space for all three of them. That's all.
hello hi anon! I’m good! And I completely agree with you - I didn’t write my concluding thoughts on the show here (I did it on twitter) but yes, real-Jiang Li never got her due, and XFF’s reveal to Jiang Li’s father gave short shrift to the girl who suffered for ten abusive, lonely years. And I don’t think redeeming Jiang Yuanbai was fair to Jiang Li’s righteous rage at her total abandonment - Ji Shuran may have been the agent of destruction, but she managed to commit all these horrors because Jiang Yuanbai was a lousy father and husband. This man’s negligence led to the deaths of two wives and two children! Crying for thirty seconds of screen time is not enough imho.
Wanning’s end was indeed gutting to watch, and the only point at which I was weeping too. She’s sacrificed so much for her kingdom and suffered far more than anyone can imagine, and yet these grand old men turn up their noses and avoid her because she didn’t wield a bow and arrow. No wonder Shen Yurong’s meagre gesture meant so much to her. My guess is Wanning did not have enough power to drive succession - the men around her don’t trust her or think of her as smart, including Lord Cheng and yes, the emperor, and she’s nothing more than an inconvenience to be handled. I think Lord Cheng only pretended better than their younger brother does, and I guess being full siblings close in age helped them build a bond.
The fake pregnancy broke my heart as well, and I know it was aimed at saving the Yan, but it was so cruel considering Wanning’s backstory. How much indignity did she suffer, my god, and for LI JING to loudly mourn her! Blech!
I have to admit that all things considered this was an incredibly entertaining show! I enjoyed so much of it, and I was especially surprised that I enjoyed watching Shen Yurong. I find TV misogynists to be very boring - how many different ways can you hate women, after all? - but he was a compelling character till the end, like layers of a rotting onion. I’m hoping someone picks up Wanning’s plot and writes something that does her justice.
Thanks Anon, for giving me an opportunity to talk about this inexplicably compelling show!
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UNDER THE CUT ARE ROLEPLAY PROMPTS FROM EPISODES 12-15 OF MAGNIFICENT CENTURY, change pronouns as desired / preferred.
“ understood ? or I shall need be more cruel. “
“ did those women upset you ? “
“ you haven’t shown interest in your parcels.”
“ even that angel of a woman was mad at you. “
“ ‘ be nice’, you said, ‘ act friendly. give them gifts. ‘ “
“ his word is law. “
“ I couldn’t stay in my chamber. I couldn’t sleep. “
“ don’t turn your back on me, you are my only confidante.”
“ please leave. it’s alright. “
“ of course he is a young and promising man but experience is an important quality. and that position requires a great deal of it. “
“ he has been educated in matters of statement for some time now. don’t be unfair.”
“ I have been patient. I have been very patient. “
“ it is his majesty’s will, let us hope it is for the best. “
“ maybe you should join the council too.”
“ I accept everything you have said about me. the insults, too. it is true, I am a servant. “
“ who do you think you are ? I will exile you. I will say anything I want.”
“ be prepared, they won’t let us remain in this palace. “
“ he is even more powerful, we will not find peace again. “
“ you haven’t asked for anything for yourself for ten years. “
“ I will never find peace in this palace. “
“ my darling son, look at me. I am with you, you will be alright. “
“ has something happened, mother ? “
“ mother, why am I so unlucky ? “
“ there is death in my fate again. “
“ I wait at your door just to see your face.”
“ the children should see their brother. “
“ we can have dinner together, I will make the preparations.”
“ I will die of curiosity, I am going. “
“ I have waited and prayed for so long for this happiness. “
“ I will accept no mistakes, as you know.”
“ his majesty’s family and his prince must be defended from all harm. “
“ you will fall so suddenly from that high perch — I will topple you. “
“ no can come between his majesty and me. “
“ I will love you until my last breath. “
“ the other night I waited for you until the morning. “
“ you are always so sad. I wonder if there is another cause for your sadness ? “
“ will you defend yourself when you should be only ashamed ? disgraceful!”
“ it made me realize my heart had no value. i’ve disgraced my family. “
“ for grief rots the heart.”
“ are you going to play it, or have you forgotten how to do it ? “
“ I’ve spent my entire life grieving for my family.
“ being unfair is the worst sin. “
“ how many people have died because of his wrong decision ? you have shed tears for our losses. you have forgotten, but I have not. “
“ it was time, I did what was necessary. “
“ I decide who deserves what.”
“ I have listened to you and mother my whole life. “
“ I’ve taken everything you said as an order. I was content with the fate you had chosen for me. I would rather die than embarrass you. I will make your wish a reality, do not doubt it. “
“the news we were waiting for has come.”
“ we are going to be together, even if we have to die for it. “
“ you are the mother of my children. you are my joy, peace, and blessing. “
“ the man I love looks at me and doesn’t trust me. “
“ I’ve come to you leaving my rank and office behind. “
“ if I don’t get out alive, don’t let my grave be here. “
“ he wishes to appear before you, your majesty. “
“ very well, you stay. I’ll go by myself. “
“ let me see their faces, let me hug them. “
“ your mother is here, I will never leave you. “
“ so they’ve finally understood I’m innocent. have they forgiven me ? “
“ this stubbornness will only harm you. “
“ do I not hold love in reverence ? “
“ queen mother, I’ve heard something. but I did not know if it was true. “
“ does my opinion carry any weight ? “
“ I have heard some whispers about that matter, and I haven’t taken them seriously, as they’re probably false….”
“ if you don’t chose your friends wisely, you’ll likely end up disappointed.”
“ he is wise, and experienced, but his ambition takes precedence over his reason.”
“ it’s not with you whom I’m displeased, it is my heart. “
“ you’re troubled, I can see it. “
“ those who love expect respect for their love too, she hasn’t committed a crime. “
“ it is very hurtful that my existence and my opinions have no value in the eyes of my children.”
“ is too much to expect respect for my decisions ? “
“ has she ever disobeyed you ? “
“ I dedicated my life to your service _ years ago, I’ll serve you for another _ years if I live long enough. “
“ my worry is that you’re being unfair to yourself. “
“ my purpose, my life, is you. “
“ forgive me if I’ve overstepped. “
“ personally I would not even wish to consider it. “
“ I will do everything in my power to rid you of this misery, your majesty. “
“ I have spoken to his majesty countless times on your behalf, I want you to be very happy. “
“ I’ll do everything I can, don’t worry. “
“ see who cries to see you leave, see who rejoices. no one likes you. everyone is happy that you are going. “
“our home will be at peace again. “
“ as far as I am concerned, you are the same. “
“ don’t fall for her tears, she is a snake!”
“ does my opinion on my daughter’s happiness count for nothing ? “
“ have them prepare my horse, I wish to go. “
“ don’t blame anyone, you’ve brought this on yourself. “
“ i want to buy some fabric, silk fabric.”
“ tell him that his mother would give her life for him. “
“ I won’t leave you, we share the same fate. “
“___, my beautiful girl, your fate won’t be like your mother’s, I promise you. I promise. “
“ she is your sister, don’t make her suffer. “
“ I’m sorry. I am in pain. please forgive me. “
“ write it down. write whatever is in your heart. “
“ play it sometime and soothe our souls. “
“ what am I to do with a palace without you in it ? “
“ master of my heart, body and soul. “
“ what was spoken in this room is not to leave this room. “
“ I will see to this matter personally. “
“ I’ve had beautiful dreams. “
“ I am not expecting good news from that council. “
“ I am grateful that I still have my life. “
“ I have fought my way up to this position tooth and nail. “
“ your majesty, I am aware of your concerns, but…. “
“ I found sanctuary with you. “
“ you are my family, and my love. “
“ what if he is angry when he reads it ? “
“ she leaves my heart and conscience to be the judge. “
“ you draw well, you are skilled. “
“ leave us alone. “
“ I have been separated from my child. “
“ if you do what I say, everything will be alright. “
“ you will obey, you will abide, you will submit. you will do as you are told and there will be no more fights. “
“ aren’t you the one who was most glad that I am gone ? “
“ I take your silence as a yes. “
“ I won’t kneel before that woman, I would rather die. “
“ it has been a while since we last had a talk. how are you ? “
“ you have never upset me, never hurt me. “
“ I have always wanted you to be happy. “
“ I believe that our fate will keep us together. “
“ I don’t know what happens, or what you live through behind these great doors, but I know of your heart. “
“ have they given you the one thing you’ve always wanted ? happiness and peace ? “
“ nobody is as wise as you, you have a big heart. “
“ are you jealous ? “
“ I want it to be beautiful, it has to be perfect. “
“ his majesty wanted to have a conversation, I am grateful. “
“ the whole family is going to be at the private garden tomorrow. “
“ he has been restless since his mother left. “
“ it would be a pleasure, your majesty. “
“ I can feel you are upset, if you like we can postpone the entertainment. “
“ I would envy anyone who is close with you, your majesty. “
“ I would only entrust you with yourself. “
“ my only friend, welcome. “
“ I won’t forget what you did for me. “
“ please don’t insist, it will put me in a difficult situation. “
“ forgive me, I shouldn’t have done that. “
“ shhh! I could barely put him to sleep. “
“ be patient, ask for forgiveness, beg for it if you need to. “
“ she is a mother, like you. “
“ he has been crying all day, only seeing his mother made him stop. “
“ I will be staying out of everything from now on; soon I will be leaving this palace too. “
“ I am not going to cause anymore trouble. “
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"Can I tell you a secret?"
Marinette could only grunt as she swung her yoyo across the Parisian night. Chloe Bourgeois was on her back, half drunk and mumbling nonsense. Well, it was nonsense to Marinette, Ladybug currently, and while she doesn't like the blonde it didn't mean she wouldn't save her from possible attacks walking home alone.
Maybe it explained the less than tight hold she had on the blonde. She made sure she was safe, of course. Still, she was eager to get her home quickly.
They didn't have much time.
Chloe chuckled, a different one than her usual cruel laughter Marinette was used to. "I do care. I care about my family, even when my mother wasn't present for most my life. I care about Daddy, who just gives me whatever I want except the attention I actually needed. I care about Adrien and regret ending our friendship of almost ten years.
I care about Sabrina and wished I could have listened more when she talked about something instead of listening to me. I did care - I still do. And I wish I didn't...b-because maybe things would have turned differently. Maybe if I didn't love people, I wouldn't hurt them so damn much."
Marinette gasped quietly as mumblings turned to sobs. She wasn't...she wasn't expecting this. Prepared for this. This was...was this? No, there wasn't any shape shifting akuma so this was the real Chloe Bourgeois and-
"And some time ago," the blonde interrupted her increasingly panicking thoughts, "I cared about Marinette. She cares about everyone, and maybe somehow, even if it was small, she cared for me too."
A familiar balcony was spotted as she gripped her yoyo tighter. She was speechless and...it wasn't okay. She needed to say something. She was Ladybug! She should be saying something.
"It's okay," as if reading her mind, she felt arms tighten around her, "You don't have to care for me. I wouldn't wanna hurt you too, Ladybug."
No, Ladybug protested in her head, you don't get to tell people who to care for or not!
Marinette could only grunt as she swung her yoyo across the Parisian night. Chloe Bourgeois was on her back, half drunk and mumbling nonsense. Well, it wasn't nonsense to Marinette, Ladybug currently, and while she doesn't trust the former hero yet, it didn't mean she can't.
She tightened her hold on the blonde, willing the night wouldn't pass by too quickly. It'll take a lot, it'll take tears and pointed fingers and communication...
It's okay. They had plenty of time.
#chlonette#chloenette#chloe bourgeois#marinette dupain cheng#angst kinda?#chlonette fic#i kinda wanna flesh this out but I'm all out of braincells for the day#i have no title since it isn't that long but if i were to give it one...#it'd be 'we have time' or 'secrets'#let chloe get a redemption or write her as a decent villain geez
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I think i remember leigh writing something along the lines of that 'wanted best for his people and he was a tyrant' etc, basically a nuanced view. Do you have it? I don't remember where it was.
I think you mean this, right?
It's from her acknowledgements on "Demon in the Wood" (graphic novel). If this is not what you mean, tell me.
She always gives a very nuanced characterization about him which makes me mad because I don't understand her point of view for him at all. It only confuses me more.
"I want the readers to make their assumptions about him. I don't want to affect their view of him". Look. If you give your own opinion of him which will consist of ten pages then it's going to be the reader's problem if they want to "adopt" your view or not. Also, your readers are not stupid. They can distinguish their own assumptions FROM your own opinion. And if they can't, then they're not fit to read books and complicated characters. It's called critical thinking. You take an opinion, read it, see if it makes sense with the canon we have from him and make your judgement. Easy peasy.
Now about that note. I agree that Aleksander isn't purely a hero or a villain. He sees himself as the hero while Alina and the others see him as the villain. We, the readers, mostly see him as something in-between and, at the same time, something entirely different. A human that has lived for too long and as a result of his immortality and tragic events he has reached a point of desperation that make him act relentlessly against the corrupt monarchy and in favor of a persecuted group of people and a country that he has lived and loved for almost all of his life.
Therefore, his characterization is (I believe) something more than the archetype of "good hero" and "bad villain".
Is he a survivor? Yup. In all the meaning of the word.
Does he want safety for his people? Isn't that why he didn't give up on life already? It was the ambition that drove him the most and kept his heart beating.
Is he a tyrant? I think that term needs to be studied. Back in Ancient Greece this word had different meanings.
1) A ruler who has usurped a legitimate ruler's sovereignty. The Darkling did that (good for him).
2) A person who rules without law, using extreme and cruel methods against both his own people and others. If Leigh means that then I'll have to disagree. First of all, we didn't see enough of the Darkling's rule to know if he was that cruel (unless she knows something we don't). And even from what we saw, it seems the word doesn't apply to him. He was sitting on the throne and listening to reports, signing paperwork, making an alliance with his enemy to feed his army. So where it the "cruel methods against both his own people and others" came from? He didn't have a beef with otkazat'sya that lived in Ravka and he certainly didn't want to hurt his own Grisha (unless they committed treason). So Leigh just threw that word in like it was nothing.
And, lastly, he brutalizes and exploits those who trust him most.
Brutalizes. Hmm....
Genya: she committed treason so he punished her.
Sergei: he committed treason so he punished him.
Baghra: committed treason so he punished her (and very lightly actually).
Yeah.. right...umm. Look. If he had attacked them or killed them for literally no reason then I would say "Yes, he brutalized them". But there was always a reason for his actions against them. He didn't see Genya on board and said "I'm bored. Gonna ruin your face 'cause I've got nothing else to do".
And he exploits them.
To exploit someone is this:
If my memory serves me correct, his soldiers (his Grisha) knew what they were serving him for. And he didn't use them for something completely selfish like "gaining power for myself because I like it" but he needed power to make Ravka better. So he didn't do it for selfish reasons.
The one instance where the term "exploit" may apply is when he gave Genya to the Grand Palace knowing what a pervert the King was. But then again, wasn't the Queen's responsibility to keep her safe?
#god I've missed analyzing#I need to finish my “Demon in the Wood” meta as well#also it's kinda funny how I have literally every piece of the Darkling's mention from Leigh's interviews etc.#the amount of search I've done for him is crazy lmao#anon asks#the darkling#pro darkling#aleksander morozova#pro aleksander morozova#leigh bardugo#grishaverse#shadow and bone#grishaverse trilogy#genya safin#baghra morozova#sergei beznikov
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Need a one shot of Lewis comforting Charles (because he has experience with this from before)(or them comforting each other) after the disqualifications today to be able to move on😭 im speechless.
Oh anon, trust me, I can't believe it either... This is so messed up, we really can't have anything good. My poor babies...
Here's a little ficlet, I hope it will cheer you up ❤️
It's a little poetic, Charles thinks, that they picked a picture of the two of them congratulating each other to announce their disqualifications. A little cruel, too.
Lewis is curled up against him, his cheek resting on Chalres' chest. It's still a bit damp with tears, wetness piercing through the fabric of his tee-shirt.
He doesn't mind. He lets Lewis cry all he needs because what else can he do? He had been magnificent the entire weekend, not making a single mistake. Charles is used to be let down by his team, Lewis, not quite yet. He hopes it'll never get as bad, that Lewis will never have to be used to that kind of things.
They cried, they talked, they cried a bit more, and they kissed. They didn't have sex, but it has been a while since they used that as a way to cheer each other up. It's better this way, better to keep negative feelings out of the bedroom.
Lewis' motorhome was in a terrible state, when Charles sneaked inside, and he can't blame him. It's really not in Lewis' nature to lash out like this, he tend to keep everything inside and plaster a smile on his face. It's good to know even he has his limits, no matter how good he got at losing.
Lewis also monologued for a solid ten minutes about how he hated Mercedes, and Toto, and everyone involved. About how he should dump their sorry ass and go drive to redbull.
He can get a bit dramatic, and none of his words are to be taken seriously, of course. It isn't often that Lewis can say things without any consequences, so Charles let him.
He would've found it funny, even, if he wasn't busy wallowing on their messed up races.
Lewis is probably asleep, Charles guesses from his quiet, regular breath.
Charles should sleep, too, but he can't. There's something in him that's too restless for it.
He feels Lewis move against him, hear him take a long inspiration that tells him he's awake.
"I can hear you think," he hums, the sound resonnating in Charles' chest, and he feels overwhelmed with love at this instant.
"I'm gonna leave Ferrari," he says simply. Lewis lifts up his head, looking at him with piercing eyes, and nods before plopping his head back against him.
Charles doesn't need to precise he's being serious.
"I'll support you no matter what," Lewis says softly.
"I know," he replies, and kiss the top of Lewis' head. Then, after a few minutes of silence: "Let's go get dinner and celebrate. I'm talking fancy restaurant, maybe hit a bar, after."
"Celebrate what, our DSQ?" Lewis snorts, unkind, annoyed.
"No, but it took me four years to come to this decision. And you deserve a proper way to celebrate your podium. It doesn't matter if it was taken from you, you fucking deserved it. You've been amazing, mon amour."
He can hear Lewis cry again more than see him, as he buried his face against Charles' chest once again.
"Okay," Lewis agrees eventually, a hint of a smile in his voice. "I know just the place. But this time, you let me pick your clothes. No way I'm letting you wear those ugly pants."
"Whatever you want, Lew," Charles smiles. They will be fine.
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Saying I love you with a letter (Ezra x reader)
Month: May
Word count: ~900
Warnings: ANGST, mcd
Notes: You receive a letter from Ezra.
I don't know exactly what happened here. I was in the grumpiest of moods and needed to write something before the end of June. And I did...technically. Oh well... everyone needs something to be the laziest and worst thing they've written. This is probably mine.
The rest of the Year of Creation stories
@yearofcreation2023
~~~~~~
My dearest,
It's been a month since we parted ways. And I ache with every inch and second of that distance, lover.
I dreamt of you last night and I woke up this morning to the phantom sensation of your arm around my waist. I reached for your hand but ended up grasping at nothing but air. I begged for sleep to take me right back to dreamland, but she is a cruel bed companion, I'm afraid, and once I found myself awake, it was impossible to go back.
I'd like to think it was the real you. In the dream, I mean. That you dreamt of me too last night and that somehow that was enough for us to find each other. Is that foolish of me? Distance makes the heart grow fond, and drives the brain a little crazy, I think.
The moon we're at is beautiful like you wouldn't believe, sweetheart. They call her The Green Moon. A very apt name. She looked like an emerald in the void when our ship approached. She's hiding the largest treasure of Aurelac in the system, and guarding it with a deadly fierceness.
There's this... dust of sorts, some kind of spores, I believe. It's everywhere. Captain showed us pictures on the way over of different gruesome ways it can mess up the human body. I'll spare you the details. But don't you worry, lover, I'm careful, and this trusty suit ain't giving up on me anytime soon.
There are ten of us here, practically living in each other's pockets. And let me tell you that after a long day of harvesting, I'd just about be willing to trade one of my limbs for a reprieve from the unpleasantly potent smell of myself and my crewmates.
The crew is about as interesting as a crew of money-hungry desperate bastards can get. Not sure I trust any of them further than I can throw them. Except for maybe the one that doesn't speak. I dropped my rationed bits bar on the floor the other day, and couldn't eat it out of fear of dust contamination. Now, I was prepared to accept my fate and I even laughed along with the others at my misfortune. This guy, however, he doesn't laugh – not sure he even can – just breaks his own bar in two and hands me half. Says a lot about a man's character, that. Still don't know his name.
The work itself is not so bad. By no means the hardest I've labored. Harvesting Aurelac requires more finesse than brute force, which is a nice change of pace.
Some of the others are unhappy with the cut we're getting of the profits. Mostly the new recruits. I think the pay is decent enough, compared to what gigs such as these usually pay. Or perhaps me and the others who've been around know there's little to gain from complaining. Voice your displeasure enough and you'll soon find yourself overlooked when the next job rolls around. No one claims it's fair but them's the rules, and no one's ever heard of anybody getting rich off of prospecting.
How are things back home? I'm itching to hear some gossip about the new neighbors. Did you end up taking them up on their offer to help with the roof? I do feel bad for leaving you to deal with it all on your own. But you know I couldn't turn this job down. Not with all things considered.
I promise I'll make it up to you a thousand times over as soon as I am back! Not too long now, and I'm counting down the days.
I love you, sweetheart. More than words could possibly convey. Can't wait to be back in your arms again.
Yours forever,
Ezra
~~~~~~
You smooth your fingers lovingly over the familiar handwriting and only just resist the urge to bring the letter up to your face. It wouldn't smell like him anyway. Written a month after he left. Exactly one month after he left. You knew because you too had been counting the days, starting from the morning when he hugged and kissed you goodbye at the hangar.
You smooth your fingers over the paper. It's worn like it's been folded and unfolded countless times along the same creases.
One month after he left.
Three weeks before he was supposed to come back.
Your hands begin to tremble.
The young girl across from you at the table speaks up, voice a bit guarded like she's expecting you to lash out at her. Like perhaps that had been the default reaction of someone before you.
”I found this among his stuff... after...” she tells you. ”He never got a chance to send it, but I found it and I thought you deserved to have it.”
And with that, the last glimmer of hope flickers and dies in your heart, replaced in an instant by the cold hard truth.
Ezra isn't coming home.
#year of creation 2023#year of saying i love you#ezra x reader#prospect fanfiction#tw: mcd#tw: angst
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Hihi~! So I love your writing and I'm hoping that your request are open. If they aren't then feel free to ignore this! But uh if they're open can I get number 7 and 10 with Mammon?? No thoughts head empty, just mammon being cute <3 And if I can, can it be a male reader?? Lots of love <3
Of course hun! Thanks a million for requesting, seeing that someone enjoys my writing makes me so happy!
On to Mammon being adorable!
'He's done it again.' Levi muttered under his breath beside you, glaring out of the corner of his eye. 'Stupidmammon.'
You followed his gaze, and immediately rolled your eyes as Mammon strolled in for dinner, wearing what is, unmistakeably, your jacket.
' 'Sup, lucky brothers o' the Great Mammon!'
'Idiot. Seriously, again?' Satan face-palmed, for once wishing Lucifer were here to deal with this headache and provided entertainment. 'You don't have your own clothes in that walk-in closet?'
'What? This is mine now!'
You, finding the antics mildly hilarious, leaned back in your seat and watched Mammon make a point not to look you in the eye. The jacket in question is your favourite for after hours, a bomber jacket that's followed you around for years, it's the one thing you sent home for after being dumped here in the Devildom.
Normally you'd be really protective of the thing, but if it's on Mammon? Your jacket, looks really damn good.
Satan is now looking at you as if to say: "you put a leash on this petulant dog of yours."
Beel, sat beside Satan, is almost squirming, despite stuffing his face, and Levi's outright glaring as Mammon grows more and more smug with each second he isn't scolded for taking your jacket.
If you were feeling particularly cruel, you'd let him have it for a little longer, watch the other demons steep in jealously as your first parades around in something so personal to you, but even you weren't mean enough to let Lucifer be the one to put an end to this.
The first born would have Mammon hung from the ceiling and you backed into a corner for not putting an end to it.
As much as you loved tormenting the eldest sometimes, today was not the day.
Casually, you stood up from your finished plate and jerked your chin at Mammon. 'Come.'
Mammon still wouldn't look at you, he folded his arms and jerked his chin away. 'Not goin' anywhere with you, human.'
You smiled playfully, voice dropped to a purr as you gave the pact a gentle tug. 'Babe, c'mon.'
Mammon turned red at the nickname, at the way you purred it like the sweetest whisper. He'll swear up and down for the rest of his life that you're ten times more seductive than Asmo will ever be.
He didn't speak, didn't trust his words when feeling your magic tug at him, his whole body willing to respond as he rounded the table to join your side as you left the room.
As soon as you were out in the hallway alone, walking toward your room, you teased the blushing demon beside you.
'Still can't handle a nickname, huh Mams?'
The second-born sputtered, but quickly spat out a reply. 'Bite me, human.'
Cleverly stepping in front of him, you grinned cheekily. 'Kiss me, demon.'
If you had the ability, you would have heard Mammon's heart slam to a grinding halt before thundering into high-gear, joining the butterflies in his stomach in beating against his insides, creating a cacophony of feelings he doesn't understand.
What you did see, was his ears turning red as he dropped his chin, hiding his eyes behind the tuft of snowy hair as he sputtered. 'Y-Ya say that stuff way too easy!'
He'd stopped dead in his tracks in the middle of the hallway outside the empty kitchen, staring at his gleaming white trainers, and you just couldn't resist.
'How 'm I supposed to know if ya mean it if-hmm!'
His words died on your lips, melting away any thoughts save ones of you, the smell of you on the jacket wrapped around him, the feeling of your magic, steadily blooming inside of you, boosted with the power of his family, all pooled in the body of one man, his man.
His pact-mark sits warm on your skin, simmering with the feelings he throws into the kiss as greedy hands pull you in close.
Your skin burned, too hot for a hallway in a house full of jealous brothers who'd blow a fuse if they saw this, but Mammon has a vice grip, and he's not letting go.
Pulling away as far as he'd let you, you cupped his cheeks, fingers gently massaging the soft skin behind his ears, decorated with gold and silver jewellery.
'Hey, babe?'
Turning red, all over again, Mammon met your gaze. 'Yeah?'
'Stop stealing my clothes.'
The lovestruck look faded almost immediately, replaced with a petulant pout. 'No.'
'You sure?'
'Whatdya mean am I sure?! Look, as your first, ya outta be sharin' yer-hey!'
You bolted out of his arms, holding the necklace your deft fingers had unclasped from around his neck, laughing at his agape look. 'If I gotta share, so do you!'
'Oh no ya don't! Get back here human!' Though he called and ran, Mammon couldn't help but laugh with you as you bolted through the halls, your laughter bouncing off the walls.
Would Lucifer have your head if he caught you running indoors? Absolutely, but you'd sweet talk your way out of it, as always. Even Lucifer can't stay mad at you.
'Catch me if you can!'
Bonus scene:
Back in the dinning room, Levi slaps his hands over his cheeks, hunched over in his chair.
'Uh...Levi? You good?' Belphie entered the room, blissfully unaware of the antics, as usual.
'MC, smooth talker, how does that guy do that?!' Levi stuttered. 'He's like, like, like that guy from-!'
As Levi launched into an anime rant, Belphie turned his eyes to Satan for an explanation, but found he too, was cherry cheeked, staring pointedly at his plate as he replayed the sound of MC's voice purring that nickname over and over again.
#obey me request#obey me x mc#mammon x mc#teeth rotting fluff#prompt request#hope you like it!#obey me mammon#obey me satan#obey me levi#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor
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what's up it's time for me to have life series derangements again. you ever think about scott smajor? <- an entirely rhetorical question
a little while ago, i was like, "oh, it'd be fun to me if cleo in double life looks at martyn, looks at scott, realizes which of those two people is going to be more dedicated to helping them survive, and makes a decision that is both tactical and emotional, where even they can't be sure where the division between those two motivations is." and that IS fun, especially in light of martyn then teaming with scott in limited life, maybe because he's now seen what scott's like. however, actually, out of [cleo, scott], i think maybe i had the wrong guy! (relevant here: scott suggesting to cleo in secret life that the best thing to do once etho's on low enough health is to have him let her kill him to get extra hearts. cleo's pov saying, "i couldn't.")
the thing about scott that i think about sometimes is. at the double life finale. scott has the tnt that whole time. he's the one holding the flint and steel, he's the one who calls pearl to spawn, he's the one who gets his final word in and decides when and how they'll go out. "you deserve it more," he says to pearl, as if he doesn't know full well this will kill them both, as if he couldn't hand over the explosives to pearl and let her decide. there are ways to read this that are. deeply cruel. it's the same thing he did at the start, right? yanking the rug out from under pearl, making decisions about their relationship on his own and then forcing her to deal with it, knowing it's come down to just the two of them and snatching this last choice out of her hands too. there are, also, kinder ways to read this. by "you deserve this," he means pearl deserves the win, of course. she deserves to win the game, because it is a game and they are playing it, and after this much, she shouldn't have to figure out what to do about scott, too. he should just give it to her, make this as easy as possible.
i think... it's not even that scott loves throwing himself on other people's swords -- there are other people in the series for that type of thing. i think it's that scott has figured out that throwing himself on someone's sword is a useful thing to do, not just for his allies but for himself. oh, we can tell each other about his loyalty and trust and love and sacrifice, and he can tell that type of narrative too! but there's an element of business, or practicality, or calculation to a lot of it. i think the story that gets out and lingers IS more often about loyalty and trust and love and sacrifice and maybe that's there too, but telling someone, "oh, yeah, you can kill me for the time / hearts / victory, go for it," is also a way of shoring up alliances, of ensuring you stay in people's good books, of reminding people you can be trusted and relied upon. it's a death game, but it's also a social game! your reputation is a tool, and your life can be a bargaining chip. (relevant notes: he yells for martyn to kill him when he's the last yellow left in limited life. lets cleo knock him off the tower in limited life to get some time from him. in his secret life finale, once he gets down to fewer than ten hearts, he goes looking for gem, throws her all his good items and tells her she has to kill him. talks about deliberately saving / not saving the one gift heart per session for trade deals. he thinks this stuff through, when he can.)
this also, when you start putting focus on it, makes it really easy to read scott as just straightforwardly manipulative and cruel. i don't know how interested i am in that. i think it's important that watching scott, i find myself surprised a lot at how often he keeps promises, offers food, shares information. he is honest and generous when i think other people would not be. there are, as demonstrated by the other players, funnier or less complicated or more secretive ways to play the social side of the game. whether that just reinforces [scott is always on-purpose carving out a more positive reputation for himself] or adds more interesting dimensions in other ways, i don't really know either? but i feel like understanding him as purely sadistic flattens him somehow. he tells gem in his secret life finale he's going to stay loyal to his day-one alliance above all, no matter what, and even that is tied up in him trying to convince / remind gem that her loyalty should stay with scott and impulse, but i think it's often like this with scott.
it's cleo and martyn (and also scar, i'm pretty sure, but he's cleo's ally in limlife so.) specifically that he gives up time to -- he'd rather his allies get the time (in limlife) and health (in secret life) than anyone else. and it's not that it's not tactical -- even teaming up with cleo in double life, where he gives the justification to pearl that he and cleo already bonded: because they're not soulbound, they've got two health bars between them for pvp instead of one the way the other soulbound pairs do. but he also just. likes cleo! makes the choice over and over to stick with her. i think it's hard to separate out how much of any given choice scott makes is motivated by [this is a tactical / social advantage] from how much is motivated by [i like and care about this person] because those things blur together so often. certainly i can't separate those two, can't say, "oh, this time he was being calculating 100% and this time he was being much more emotions-first nice." i don't know that i want to be able to do that, and i don't know that scott can tell either? it's both of these things at once, and it works, so there's no real reason for him to try separating them.
my examples are from secret life because that's what i watched most recently, but scott loves to remind people how well he knows them and is startlingly good at knowing / guessing / pretending to know what other people are like. he gets a task where he has to get people to say 'i love you' back to him and at the end, he rattles off the list of people he knew would say it. he's halfway up a cliff and etho calls to him, asking him to come back down; after some back-and-forth, etho admits he was trying to stall so bdubs could get away, and scott replies, "i know you were." and like. i don't always believe him! he did fully climb back down the cliff to talk to etho. i'm sure some of the time when he says stuff like this it's true -- these are people he knows fairly well, of course you can predict some moves -- but i wonder how often he figures something out mid-conversation, goes, "oh, okay, this is what we're doing," and adjusts accordingly as if he knew all along. (relevant note: when boat boys start chasing pearl around after going red and scott gives up on trying to convince pearl to appease them, he switches to hurrying into the midcentury modern whateverthefuck and setting his spawn there so he's not running back from spawn to get his stuff when pearl dies.)
i wonder how much that contributes to the blurring motivations, the idea that scott himself doesn't necessarily go into these interactions really thinking about the tactical advantage all the time, but maybe he'll tell himself afterwards that that's what that was. i've been thinking about the limited life finale (when am i ever not thinking about the limited life finale) and the like million different ways i've thought about scott and martyn's motivations going into and coming out of that final betrayal ("betrayal"?), and how "i wouldn't have it any other way" is still something i like to come back to chew on sometimes. like, yeah, that's his closest ally, and he's already won before. that does in fact work out great for him. i think, maybe it's like that. oh, okay, this is what's happening, scott thinks. i knew it. this works out great for me, and i knew it all along.
#sparrowsong#every time i think about double life scott i turn into a traffic!scott apologist. don't you just want to squish him.#some of the reason i can't stop writing him is that he's on like every smp ever#the rest of the reason is that he's DIFFICULT TO TALK AND THINK ABOUT WITHOUT FLATTENING. rrrrrgh <- sound of a dog chewing on a bone#'hey were you going to talk about 3L / LL' no :]#yeah i'm aware i'm missing information. there's a reason this isn't maintagged. but i AM curious how my thoughts here will shift#when i get around to seeing more of him in the earlier seasons
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Operation Stumpy Re-Read
ADWD: Jon XI (Chapter 53)
Apologies for using Karsi as a placeholder. Val wasn't relevant enough to be on the show.
He was not a tall man, Tormund Giantsbane, but the gods had given him a broad chest and massive belly. Mance Rayder had named him Tormund Horn-Blower for the power of his lungs, and was wont to say that Tormund could laugh the snow off mountaintops. In his wroth, his bellows reminded Jon of a mammoth trumpeting.
[...]
Finally, as the shadows of the afternoon grew long outside the tent, Tormund Giantsbane—Tall-Talker, Horn-Blower, and Breaker of Ice, Tormund Thunderfist, Husband to Bears, Mead-King of Ruddy Hall, Speaker to Gods and Father of Hosts—thrust out his hand. "Done then, and may the gods forgive me. There's a hundred mothers never will, I know."
Are we being baited? We're being baited, aren't we?
"If you refuse," Mance Rayder said, "Tormund Giantsbane will sound the Horn of Winter three days hence, at dawn." - Jon X, ASOS
+.+.+
Jon clasped the offered hand. The words of his oath rang through his head. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. And for him a new refrain: I am the guard who opened the gates and let the foe march through. He would have given much and more to know that he was doing the right thing. But he had gone too far to turn back.
This is the price of peace, I pay it willingly. If I look back, I am lost. - Daenerys VIII, ADWD
+.+.+
"Gold for gruel, and boys … a cruel price. Whatever happened to that sweet lad I knew?"
They made him lord commander. "A fair bargain leaves both sides unhappy, I've heard it said. Three days?"
"If I live that long. Some o' my own will spit on me when they hear these terms." Tormund released Jon's hand. "Your crows will grumble too, if I know them. And I ought to. I have killed more o' you black buggers than I can count."
This week on Foils,
Jon negotiates an uneasy peace with those uncivilized, barbaric wildlings.
I hope he doesn't start sulking, and decide to burn everyone alive.
+.+.+
The wildling pulled off the band from his left arm and tossed it at Jon, then did the same with its twin upon his right. "Your first payment. Had those from my father and him from his. Now they're yours, you thieving black bastard."
The armbands were old gold, solid and heavy, engraved with the ancient runes of the First Men. Tormund Giantsbane had worn them as long as Jon had known him; they had seemed as much a part of him as his beard. "The Braavosi will melt these down for the gold. That seems a shame. Perhaps you ought to keep them."
"No. I'll not have it said that Tormund Thunderfist made the free folk give up their treasures whilst he kept his own."
Speaking of being baited, I continue to be distracted by the ancient runes.
+.+.+
Grief twisted Tormund's face. "Dormund was cut down in the battle for the Wall, and him still half a boy. One o' your king's knights did for him, some bastard all in grey steel with moths upon his shield. I saw the cut, but my boy was dead before I reached him. And Torwynd … it was the cold claimed him. Always sickly, that one. He just up and died one night. The worst o' it, before we ever knew he'd died he rose pale with them blue eyes. Had to see to him m'self. That was hard, Jon." Tears shone in his eyes.
Richard Horpe is with Stannis, I don't think anything is brewing.
+.+.+
"Dawn, then. Three days from now. The boys first."
"I heard you the first ten times, crow. A man'd think there was no trust between us." He spat. "Boys first, aye. Mammoths go the long way round. You make sure Eastwatch expects them. I'll make sure there's no fighting, nor rushing at your bloody gate. Nice and orderly we'll be, ducklings in a row. And me the mother duck. Har!" Tormund led Jon from his tent.
The mammoths are all at Eastwatch. Pray for Eastwatch.
If the Others do attack Eastwatch, you have a nice little parallel with Daenerys, who's about to go to war with the elephants.
+.+.+
He [Hareth] and Leathers were the only men Jon had brought with him to the parley; any more might have been seen as a sign of fear, and twenty men would have been of no more use than two if Tormund had been intent on blood.
Bruh, you have to create the illusion you're including others in your decision-making process. Even Tywin Lannister did that.
+.+.+
Ghost was the only protection Jon needed; the direwolf could sniff out foes, even those who hid their enmity behind smiles.
Ghost would have followed as well, but as the wolf came padding after them, Jon grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and wrestled him back inside. Borroq might be amongst those gathering at the Shieldhall. The last thing he needed just now was his wolf savaging the skinchanger's boar. - Jon XIII, ADWD
+.+.+
From above came the sudden sound of wings. Mormont's raven flapped from a limb of an old oak to perch upon Jon's saddle. "Corn," it cried. "Corn, corn, corn."
"Did you follow me as well?" Jon reached to shoo the bird away but ended up stroking its feathers. The raven cocked its eye at him. "Snow," it muttered, bobbing its head knowingly.
Eye, singular.
That ain't no blood raven, that's a Bran raven.
+.+.+
Then Ghost emerged from between two trees, with Val beside him.
They look as though they belong together. Val was clad all in white; white woolen breeches tucked into high boots of bleached white leather, white bearskin cloak pinned at the shoulder with a carved weirwood face, white tunic with bone fastenings. Her breath was white as well … but her eyes were blue, her long braid the color of dark honey, her cheeks flushed red from the cold. It had been a long while since Jon Snow had seen a sight so lovely.
"Have you been trying to steal my wolf?" he asked her.
"Why not? If every woman had a direwolf, men would be much sweeter. Even crows."
Wait a second.
WAIT A SECOND.
What happened ... to Cool Girl's ... grey eyes?
Why ... at this moment ... have they turned ... blue?
Val looked at him with pale grey eyes. - Jon X, ASOS
x
They had crowned her with a simple circlet of dark bronze, yet she looked more regal in bronze than Stannis did in gold. Her eyes were grey and fearless, unflinching. - Jon III, ADWD
See? Grey. She's shapeshifting again.
Something tells me that's not a continuity error.
She was as fair as he'd remembered, slender, full-breasted, graceful even at rest, with high sharp cheekbones and a thick braid of honey-colored hair that fell to her waist. - Jon X, ASOS
x
Her breath was white as well … but her eyes were blue - Jon XI, ADWD
Something weird is going on here, but I can't quite put my finger on it.
Worse, she was beautiful. - Arya I, AGOT
x
"Your bosom will be as lovely as the queen's," the old woman said as she looped her string around Sansa's chest. "You should not hide it so." - Sansa II, ASOS
x
"I had heard that Lord Littlefinger's daughter was fair of face and full of grace, but no one ever told me that she was a thief." - Alayne I, TWOW
x
Sansa had gotten their mother's fine high cheekbones - Arya I, AGOT
x
"OH, SWEET SHE WAS, AND PURE, AND FAIR! THE MAID WITH HONEY IN HER HAIR!" - Sansa I, ASOS
x
✨✨✨ Petyr studied her eyes, as if seeing them for the first time. "You have your mother's eyes. Honest eyes, and innocent. Blue as a sunlit sea. When you are a little older, many a man will drown in those eyes." - Sansa I, AFFC ✨✨✨
+.+.+
Then Ghost emerged from between two trees, with Val beside him.
They look as though they belong together. Val was clad all in white; white woolen breeches tucked into high boots of bleached white leather, white bearskin cloak pinned at the shoulder with a carved weirwood face, white tunic with bone fastenings. Her breath was white as well … but her eyes were blue, her long braid the color of dark honey, her cheeks flushed red from the cold. It had been a long while since Jon Snow had seen a sight so lovely.
"Have you been trying to steal my wolf?" he asked her.
"Why not? If every woman had a direwolf, men would be much sweeter. Even crows."
It's a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma.
Two pairs of hose for her legs, boots that laced up to her knees, heavy leather gloves, and finally a hooded cloak of soft white fox fur.
[...]
He smiled. "I wish you could see yourself, my lady. You are so beautiful. You're crusted over with snow like some little bear cub, but your face is flushed and you can scarcely breathe. How long have you been out here? You must be very cold. Let me warm you, Sansa. - Sansa VII, ASOS
+.+.+
Then Ghost emerged from between two trees, with Val beside him.
They look as though they belong together. Val was clad all in white; white woolen breeches tucked into high boots of bleached white leather, white bearskin cloak pinned at the shoulder with a carved weirwood face, white tunic with bone fastenings. Her breath was white as well … but her eyes were blue, her long braid the color of dark honey, her cheeks flushed red from the cold. It had been a long while since Jon Snow had seen a sight so lovely.
"Have you been trying to steal my wolf?" he asked her.
"Why not? If every woman had a direwolf, men would be much sweeter. Even crows."
It's always there, the truth. We just need to look for it.
"I had heard that Lord Littlefinger's daughter was fair of face and full of grace, but no one ever told me that she was a thief."
"You wrong me, ser. I am no thief!"
Ser Roland placed his hand over his heart. "Then how do you explain this hole in my chest, from where you stole my heart?" - Alayne I, TWOW
+.+.+
Then Ghost emerged from between two trees, with Val beside him.
They look as though they belong together. Val was clad all in white; white woolen breeches tucked into high boots of bleached white leather, white bearskin cloak pinned at the shoulder with a carved weirwood face, white tunic with bone fastenings. Her breath was white as well … but her eyes were blue, her long braid the color of dark honey, her cheeks flushed red from the cold. It had been a long while since Jon Snow had seen a sight so lovely.
"Have you been trying to steal my wolf?" he asked her.
"Why not? If every woman had a direwolf, men would be much sweeter. Even crows."
Why, it's almost as if this "character" (I use that term loosely) is a plot device, who only exists to remind us of other people.
The light of the half-moon turned Val's honey-blond hair a pale silver and left her cheeks as white as snow. She took a deep breath. "The air tastes sweet."
"My tongue is too numb to tell. All I can taste is cold." - Jon VIII, ADWD
Pale silver? Bad. ❌
Dark honey, blue-eyed? Good. ✅
Okay, I'm done.
+.+.+
What had that oaf Axell Florent said of Val? "A nubile girl, not hard to look upon. Good hips, good breasts, well made for whelping children."
+.+.+
All true enough, but the wildling woman was so much more.
If you have any critical thinking skills whatsoever, this should have prompted nothing more than a laugh.
The joke is he doesn't know anything about Val. The reader doesn't know anything about Val. Val is a blank page dressed in white.
+.+.+
She had proved that by finding Tormund where seasoned rangers of the Watch had failed. She may not be a princess, but she would make a worthy wife for any lord.
Again, the appropriate response is to laugh.
Val would make a dreadful wife for any noble, and the author's going to demonstrate why.
I weep for people who can't see what's going on here.
Sansa was a lady at three, always so courteous and eager to please. - Catelyn VII, ACOK
x
She is good at this, he thought, as he watched her tell Lord Gyles that his cough was sounding better, compliment Elinor Tyrell on her gown, and question Jalabhar Xho about wedding customs in the Summer Isles. His cousin Ser Lancel had been brought down by Ser Kevan, the first time he'd left his sickbed since the battle. He looks ghastly. Lancel's hair had turned white and brittle, and he was thin as a stick. Without his father beside him holding him up, he would surely have collapsed. Yet when Sansa praised his valor and said how good it was to see him getting strong again, both Lancel and Ser Kevan beamed. She would have made Joffrey a good queen and a better wife if he'd had the sense to love her. He wondered if his nephew was capable of loving anyone. - Tyrion VIII, ASOS
A poor substitute for the real thing.
King Stannis had plans for Val, he knew; she was the mortar with which he meant to seal the peace between the northmen and the free folk. - Samwell I, AFFC
x
Our alliances in the south may be as solid as Casterly Rock, but there remains the north to win, and the key to the north is Sansa Stark. - Tyrion III, ASOS
Always has been, always will be.
She may not be a princess
Wait for it.
WAIT FOR IT.
+.+.+
But that bridge had been burned a long time ago, and Jon himself had thrown the torch. "Toregg is welcome to her," he announced. "I took a vow."
That's kind of a dick thing to say right in front of her, lol.
+.+.+
"She won't mind. Will you, girl?"
Val patted the long bone knife on her hip. "Lord Crow is welcome to steal into my bed any night he dares. Once he's been gelded, keeping those vows will come much easier for him."
HA HA she's so cool.
+.+.+
As Jon scratched Ghost behind the ear, Toregg brought up Val's horse for her. She still rode the grey garron that Mully had given her the day she left the Wall, a shaggy, stunted thing blind in one eye. As she turned it toward the Wall, she asked, "How fares the little monster?"
+.+.+
"Freedom of the castle you shall have, but I regret to say you must remain a captive. I can promise that you will not be troubled by unwanted visitors, however. My own men guard Hardin's Tower, not the queen's. And Wun Wun sleeps in the entry hall."
Sansa hovered by the door, for once unguarded. The queen had given her freedom of the castle as a reward for being good, yet even so, she was escorted everywhere she went. - Sansa V, AGOT
Shoutout to @please-dot!
+.+.+
Jon saw signs of sickness too. That disquieted him more than he could say. If Tormund's band were starved and sick, what of the thousands who had followed Mother Mole to Hardhome? Cotter Pyke should reach them soon. If the winds were kind, his fleet might well be on its way back to Eastwatch even now, with as many of the free folk as he could cram aboard.
Jon lets the sick pass the Wall.
Now I'm wondering what the author's personal stance was on Daenerys keeping the sick out of Meereen. I didn't think she had much of a choice, but perhaps George disagrees.
+.+.+
"How did you fare with Tormund?" asked Val.
"Ask me a year from now. The hard part still awaits me. The part where I convince mine own to eat this meal I've cooked for them. None of them are going to like the taste, I fear."
"Let me help."
"You have. You brought me Tormund."
"I can do more."
Why not? thought Jon. They are all convinced she is a princess. Val looked the part and rode as if she had been born on horseback. A warrior princess, he decided, not some willowy creature who sits up in a tower, brushing her hair and waiting for some knight to rescue her.
There it is, in all its glory.
A real authentic warrior princess.
Controversial, but I agree with him.
Val is nothing like that other princess in the story.
+.+.+
Why not? thought Jon. They are all convinced she is a princess. Val looked the part and rode as if she had been born on horseback. A warrior princess, he decided, not some willowy creature who sits up in a tower, brushing her hair and waiting for some knight to rescue her.
I'm not finished.
In case Jon's own thoughts weren't enough,
Val is no princess, though. I told him that half a hundred times. - Jon VIII, ADWD
George has basically confirmed Jon is projecting all over this girl.
However, in my own defense, I should note that Dalla was not a "warrior woman" per se. She was from a warrior culture, yes; one that gave women the right, but not the obligation, to be fighters. Ygritte was a warrior woman, as was (most conspicuously) the fearsome Harma Dogshead. Dalla and Val were not. - George R. R. Martin
She is no warrior, she is no princess, and she damn well sure isn't the mortar to the north.
As for Jon's thoughts on willowy creatures in towers,
He knew nothing of his mother; Eddard Stark would not talk of her. Yet he dreamed of her at times, so often that he could almost see her face. In his dreams, she was beautiful, and highborn, and her eyes were kind. - Jon III, AGOT
x
The mare whickered softly as Jon Snow tightened the cinch. "Easy, sweet lady," he said in a soft voice, quieting her with a touch. - Jon IX, AGOT
x
He was not a man you'd expect to speak of maids and wedding nights. So far as Jon knew, Qhorin had spent his whole life in the Watch. Did he ever love a maid or have a wedding? He could not ask. Instead he fanned the fire. When the blaze was all acrackle, he peeled off his stiff gloves to warm his hands, and sighed, wondering if ever a kiss had felt as good. - Jon VIII, ACOK
x
Sometimes she sang in a low husky voice that stirred him. And sometimes by the cookfire when she sat hugging her knees with the flames waking echoes in her red hair, and looked at him, just smiling . . . well, that stirred some things as well. - Jon II, ASOS
x
If I could show her Winterfell . . . give her a flower from the glass gardens, feast her in the Great Hall, and show her the stone kings on their thrones. We could bathe in the hot pools, and love beneath the heart tree while the old gods watched over us. - Jon V, ASOS
x
"Then I'd push him in a stream or throw a bucket o' water on him. Anyhow, men shouldn't smell sweet like flowers."
"What's wrong with flowers?" - Jon V, ASOS
x
For a time he dreamed that Ygritte was with him, tending him with gentle hands. - Jon VI, ASOS
x
He watched the child nurse at Gilly's breast, and then he watched Jon watch. Jon is smiling. A sad smile, still, but definitely a smile of sorts. Sam was glad to see it. It is the first time I've seen him smile since I got back. - Samwell IV, ASOS
x
A snowflake danced upon the air. Then another. Dance with me, Jon Snow, he thought. You'll dance with me anon. - Jon XII, ADWD
I might take it more seriously if he wasn't such a willowy boy.
+.+.+
"I must inform the queen of this agreement," he said. "You are welcome to come meet her, if you can find it in yourself to bend a knee." It would never do to offend Her Grace before he even opened his mouth.
"May I laugh when I kneel?"
"You may not. This is no game. A river of blood runs between our peoples, old and deep and red. Stannis Baratheon is one of the few who favors admitting wildlings to the realm. I need his queen's support for what I've done."
Val's playful smile died. "You have my word, Lord Snow. I will be a proper wildling princess for your queen."
Oh boy, I can't wait to see how well princess emissary does.
Teach him, author. Show him what happens to 11-year-old girls boys who romanticize pretty princes princesses they don't know.
+.+.+
She is not my queen, he might have said. If truth be told, the day of her departure cannot come too fast for me. And if the gods are good, she will take Melisandre with her.
I know this is about Selyse, but.
+.+.+
"If it please m'lord, the lads were wondering. Will it be peace, m'lord? Or blood and iron?"
"Peace," Jon Snow replied. "Three days hence, Tormund Giantsbane will lead his people through the Wall. As friends, not foes. Some may even swell our ranks, as brothers. It will be for us to make them welcome. Now back to your duties."
This, plus the conflict between Daenerys and Yunkai being (temporarily) resolved by a peace deal, is another strong indicator the Others will not be stopped with swords or magic.
+.+.+
Bring parchment, quills, and a pot of maester's black to my chambers. Then summon Marsh, Yarwyck, Septon Cellador, Clydas." Cellador would be half-drunk, and Clydas was a poor substitute for a real maester, but they were what he had. Till Sam returns.
Poor substitutes everywhere you look! What happened to getting more maesters?
"If you ask the Citadel for more maesters . . ."
"I mean to. We'll have need of every one. Aemon Targaryen is not so easily replaced, however." - Jon II, ADWD
Looks like the author is going to pretend it doesn't take years to become a maester. Who needs a 5 year gap?
+.+.+
He turned to Val. "My lady. With me, if you please."
"The crow commands, the captive must obey." Her tone was playful.
x
They made their way toward the King's Tower, along fresh-shoveled pathways between mounds of dirty snow. "I have heard it said that your queen has a great dark beard."
Jon knew he should not smile, but he did.
x
Commanding them was Ser Patrek of King's Mountain, clad in his knightly raiment of white and blue and silver, his cloak a spatter of five-pointed stars. When presented to Val, the knight sank to one knee to kiss her glove. "You are even lovelier than I was told, princess," he declared. "The queen has told me much and more of your beauty."
"How odd, when she has never seen me." Val patted Ser Patrek on the head. "Up with you now, ser kneeler. Up, up." She sounded as if she were talking to a dog.
It was all that Jon could do not to laugh.
+.+.+
When presented to Val, the knight sank to one knee to kiss her glove. "You are even lovelier than I was told, princess," he declared. "The queen has told me much and more of your beauty."
"How odd, when she has never seen me."
Not to be outdone, the pimply knight hopped up and said, "Ser Ossifer speaks truly, you are the most beautiful maid in all the Seven Kingdoms." It might have been a sweeter courtesy had he not addressed it to her chest.
"And have you seen all those maids yourself, ser?" Alayne asked him. "You are young to be so widely travelled." - Alayne I, TWOW
Shoutout to @please-dot!
+.+.+
They found Her Grace sewing by the fire, whilst her fool danced about to music only he could hear, the cowbells on his antlers clanging. "The crow, the crow," Patchface cried when he saw Jon. "Under the sea the crows are white as snow, I know, I know, oh, oh, oh."
If under the sea is still code for death, then I believe that's more evidence of Jon warging inside Ghost.
+.+.+
There was no sign of Lady Melisandre. For that much Jon was grateful.
Lol.
+.+.+
"Your Grace." He took a knee. Val did likewise.
Wow, impressive. Let's see your curtsy, princess blue-blood.
+.+.+
"Are you the wildling princess?" Shireen asked Val.
"Some call me that," said Val. "My sister was wife to Mance Rayder, the King-Beyond-the-Wall. She died giving him a son."
I'm sorry, don't the kneelers call you that?
+.+.+
"I'm a princess too," Shireen announced, "but I never had a sister. I used to have a cousin once, before he sailed away. He was just a bastard, but I liked him."
"Honestly, Shireen," her mother said. "I am sure the lord commander did not come to hear about Robert's by-blows. Patchface, be a good fool and take the princess to her room."
The bells on his hat rang. "Away, away," the fool sang. "Come with me beneath the sea, away, away, away." He took the little princess by one hand and drew her from the room, skipping.
Hey, princess Sansa has a bastard cousin she's fond of too.
Please don't take Shireen beneath the sea. Please?
+.+.+
Jon said, "Your Grace, the leader of the free folk has agreed to my terms."
Queen Selyse gave the tiniest of nods. "It was ever my lord husband's wish to grant sanctuary to these savage peoples. So long as they keep the king's peace and the king's laws, they are welcome in our realm." She pursed her lips. "I am told they have more giants with them."
Yes, that was definitely something Stannis genuinely cared about.
Melisandre nodded solemnly, as if she had taken his words to heart, but this Weeper did not matter. None of his free folk mattered. They were a lost people, a doomed people, destined to vanish from the earth, as the children of the forest had vanished. - Melisandre I, ADWD
+.+.+
She pursed her lips. "I am told they have more giants with them." Val answered. "Almost two hundred of them, Your Grace. And more than eighty mammoths."
The queen shuddered. "Dreadful creatures." Jon could not tell if she was speaking of the mammoths or the giants. "Though such beasts might be useful to my lord husband in his battles."
There's two hundred giants, and eighty mammoths?
Probably not for long.
"Though such beasts might be useful to my lord husband in his battles."
I hate these people.
+.+.+
Selyse sniffed. "If you say so. No doubt you know about such things. Where do you mean to settle these wildlings? Surely Mole's Town is not large enough to contain … how many are they?" "Four thousand, Your Grace. They will help us garrison our abandoned castles, the better to defend the Wall."
Numbers update! Four thousand wildlings are passing the Wall.
Most of them are not fighting men, and won't factor into the battle for Winterfell.
+.+.+
"I see you have considered all this carefully, Lord Snow. I am sure King Stannis will be pleased when he returns triumphant from his battle."
Lol, k.
You know what I would do if I triumphantly won back Winterfell, and secured a kingdom to my cause?
Burn my daughter alive to celebrate.
+.+.+
"Of course," the queen went on, "the wildlings must first acknowledge Stannis as their king and R'hllor as their god."
And here we are, face-to-face in the narrow passage. "Your Grace, forgive me. Those were not the terms that we agreed to."
The queen's face hardened. "A grievous oversight." What faint traces of warmth her voice had held vanished all at once.
Don't worry, Jon's a seasoned veteran when it comes to tense matters like this. He's got this under contr-
+.+.+
"Free folk do not kneel," Val told her.
"Then they must be knelt," the queen declared.
"Do that, Your Grace, and we will rise again at the first chance," Val promised. "Rise with blades in hand."
The queen's lips tightened, and her chin gave a small quiver. "You are insolent. I suppose that is only to be expected of a wildling. We must find you a husband who can teach you courtesy."
Damn, you fucking suck at this, princess diplomacy.
+.+.+
"Your Grace." Jon knelt again. This time Val did not join him. "I am sorry my actions have displeased you. I did as I thought best. Do I have your leave to go?"
I would have liked to see him reflect on what a dumbass princess fumble is, but I understand I can't have everything.
Or maybe I can ...
+.+.+
Once outside and well away from the queen's men, Val gave vent to her wroth. "You lied about her beard. That one has more hair on her chin than I have between my legs. And the daughter … her face …"
"Greyscale."
"The grey death is what we call it."
"It is not always mortal in children."
"North of the Wall it is. Hemlock is a sure cure, but a pillow or a blade will work as well. If I had given birth to that poor child, I would have given her the gift of mercy long ago."
Oh no, what's happening? Say it ain't so, princess filicide.
Surely you wouldn't kill your own child if it was unnecessary.
The curse was oft seen in children, especially in damp, cold climes. The afflicted flesh stiffened, calcified, and cracked, though the dwarf had read that greyscale's progress could be stayed by limes, mustard poultices, and scalding-hot baths (the maesters said) or by prayer, sacrifice, and fasting (the septons insisted). Then the disease passed, leaving its young victims disfigured but alive. Maesters and septons alike agreed that children marked by greyscale could never be touched by the rarer mortal form of the affliction, nor by its terrible swift cousin, the grey plague. - Tyrion V, ADWD
You should keep going, princess merciful. Nothing turns Jon on more than talk of killing kids.
+.+.+
This was a Val that Jon had never seen before. "Princess Shireen is the queen's only child."
A little too much wildling in that wildling, huh?
You've never seen any part of Val before, you banana.
+.+.+
"I pity both of them. The child is not clean."
DON'T STOP GEORGE. LEARN HIM.
+.+.+
"If Stannis wins his war, Shireen will stand as heir to the Iron Throne."
"Then I pity your Seven Kingdoms."
+.+.+
"The maesters say greyscale is not—"
"The maesters may believe what they wish. Ask a woods witch if you would know the truth. The grey death sleeps, only to wake again. The child is not clean!"
"She seems a sweet girl. You cannot know—"
"I can. You know nothing, Jon Snow." Val seized his arm. "I want the monster out of there. Him and his wet nurses. You cannot leave them in that same tower as the dead girl."
Jon shook her hand away. "She is not dead."
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
+.+.+
"She is. Her mother cannot see it. Nor you, it seems. Yet death is there." She walked away from him, stopped, turned back. "I brought you Tormund Giantsbane. Bring me my monster."
Bring princess maternal the monster. She's great with children.
Death is certainly there for Shireen, but not for the reasons Val believes.
While we're on the topic of mercy killing kids, would you like to know who you're supposed to be thinking about while this conversation is taking place? ("Then I pity your Seven Kingdoms.")
"He could end his torment," Jaime said. "I would, if it were my son. It would be a mercy." - Tyrion I, AGOT
x
"Oh, don't be absurd." Cersei closed the window. "Yes, I hoped the boy would die. So did you. Even Robert thought that would have been for the best. 'We kill our horses when they break a leg, and our dogs when they go blind, but we are too weak to give the same mercy to crippled children,' he told me. He was blind himself at the time, from drink." - Jaime IX, ASOS
Yeah, this girl is totally Jon's happy ending.
+.+.+
"If I can, I will."
"Do. You owe me a debt, Jon Snow."
Jon watched her stride away. She is wrong. She must be wrong. Greyscale is not so deadly as she claims, not in children.
Shireen is fine, she's had greyscale for 11 years now.
Let's wait and see if that not deadly disease is used to justify a horrific act.
Ask a woods witch if you would know the truth. The grey death sleeps, only to wake again.
+.+.+
At four hundred feet the wind had teeth, and tore at his black cloak so it slapped noisily at the iron bars. At seven hundred it cut right through him. The Wall is mine, Jon reminded himself as the winchmen were swinging in the cage, for two more days, at least.
Close. It's yours for about another week, then you can say goodbye.
+.+.+
Both wore woolen hoods pulled down over their heads, so nothing could be seen of their faces but their eyes, but he knew Ty by the tangled rope of greasy black hair falling down his back and Owen by the sausage stuffed into the scabbard at his hip. He might have known them anyway, just by the way they stood. A good lord must know his men, his father had once told him and Robb, back at Winterfell.
I wish you'd do a better job at knowing Bowen Marsh.
+.+.+
Jon walked to the edge of the Wall and gazed down upon the killing ground where Mance Rayder's host had died. He wondered where Mance was now. Did he ever find you, little sister? Or were you just a ploy he used so I would set him free?
We're still trying to figure that one out, Jon.
+.+.+
It had been so long since he had last seen Arya. What would she look like now? Would he even know her? Arya Underfoot. Her face was always dirty. Would she still have that little sword he'd had Mikken forge for her? Stick them with the pointy end, he'd told her. Wisdom for her wedding night if half of what he heard of Ramsay Snow was true. Bring her home, Mance. I saved your son from Melisandre, and now I am about to save four thousand of your free folk. You owe me this one little girl.
Arya Stark, still very much a child in the eyes of Jon Snow.
Unrelated, but did you know Shireen and Arya are the exact same age? I bet Jon knows.
+.+.+
Jon Snow flexed the fingers of his sword hand, remembering all he'd lost. Sam, you sweet fat fool, you played me a cruel jape when you made me lord commander. A lord commander has no friends.
+.+.+
Jon pointed at the lights of their campfires. "There they are. Four thousand, Tormund claims."
"Three thousand, I make them, by the fires." Bowen Marsh lived for counts and measures. "More than twice that number at Hardhome with the woods witch, we are told. And Ser Denys writes of great camps in the mountains beyond the Shadow Tower …"
Scratch that, three thousand wildings are passing the Wall. More than six thousand are at Hardhome.
Many more are in the mountains beyond the Shadow Tower. Do we know what's happening at the Shadow Tower?
+.+.+
Jon did not deny it. "Tormund says the Weeper means to try the Bridge of Skulls again."
The Old Pomegranate touched his scar. He had gotten it defending the Bridge of Skulls the last time the Weeping Man had tried to cut his way across the Gorge. "Surely the lord commander cannot mean to allow that … that demon through as well?"
"Not gladly." Jon had not forgotten the heads the Weeping Man had left him, with bloody holes where their eyes had been. Black Jack Bulwer, Hairy Hal, Garth Greyfeather. I cannot avenge them, but I will not forget their names. "But yes, my lord, him as well. We cannot pick and choose amongst the free folk, saying this one may pass, this one may not. Peace means peace for all."
[...]
"How many rangers has the Weeper killed?" asked Othell Yarwyck. "How many women has he raped or killed or stolen?"
"Three of mine own ilk," said Old Flint. "And he blinds the girls he does not take."
Similar to Daenerys and her peace deal, Jon's forced to swallow an especially difficult pill.
I'm not smart enough to tell you what should have happened.
+.+.+
"You need not trust a man to use him." Else how could I make use of all of you? "We need the Weeper, and others like him. Who knows the wild better than a wildling? Who knows our foes better than a man who has fought them?"
That's kind of unfair. They haven't done anything. Yet.
+.+.+
"Brothers should not squabble," Septon Cellador said. "Let us kneel and pray to the Crone to light our way to wisdom."
George mocking "thoughts and prayers" before it became a thing.
+.+.+
"Lord Snow," said The Norrey, "where do you mean to put these wildlings o' yours? Not on my lands, I hope."
"Aye," declared Old Flint. "You want them in the Gift, that's your folly, but see they don't wander off or I'll send you back their heads. Winter is nigh, I want no more mouths to feed."
I think it was paramount he involve these two in the negotiations.
The Night's Watch relies on the support of noble houses, especially northern houses.
+.+.+
"The wildlings will remain upon the Wall," Jon assured them. "Most will be housed in one of our abandoned castles." The Watch now had garrisons at Icemark, Long Barrow, Sable Hall, Greyguard, and Deep Lake, all badly undermanned, but ten castles still stood empty and abandoned. "Men with wives and children, all orphan girls and any orphan boys below the age of ten, old women, widowed mothers, any woman who does not care to fight. The spearwives we'll send to Long Barrow to join their sisters, single men to the other forts we've reopened. Those who take the black will remain here, or be posted to Eastwatch or the Shadow Tower. Tormund will take Oakenshield as his seat, to keep him close at hand."
Tormund Oakenshield. Can someone tell me if Thorin Oakenshield ever blows a horn?
I'm not sure these castles survive the Wall falling. They have to go somewhere else.
You want them in the Gift, that's your folly
+.+.+
Bowen Marsh sighed. "If they do not slay us with their swords, they will do so with their mouths. Pray, how does the lord commander propose to feed Tormund and his thousands?"
Jon had anticipated that question. "Through Eastwatch. We will bring in food by ship, as much as might be required. From the riverlands and the stormlands and the Vale of Arryn, from Dorne and the Reach, across the narrow sea from the Free Cities."
"And this food will be paid for … how, if I may ask?"
With gold, from the Iron Bank of Braavos, Jon might have replied. Instead he said, "I have agreed that the free folk may keep their furs and pelts. They will need those for warmth when winter comes. All other wealth they must surrender. Gold and silver, amber, gemstones, carvings, anything of value. We will ship it all across the narrow sea to be sold in the Free Cities."
"All the wealth o' the wildlings," said The Norrey. "That should buy you a bushel o' barleycorn. Two bushels, might be."
SAY THAT. TELL THEM.
Like, almost every insurrection happens because of food scarcity in this series. Please tell them you have money to buy food.
+.+.+
"Lord Commander, why not demand that the wildlings give up their arms as well?" asked Clydas.
Leathers laughed at that. "You want the free folk to fight beside you against the common foe. How are we to do that without arms? Would you have us throw snowballs at the wights? Or will you give us sticks to hit them with?"
The arms most wildlings carry are little more than sticks, thought Jon.
SAY THE QUIET PART OUT LOUD.
+.+.+
"Tormund has given me his oath. He will serve with us until the spring. The Weeper and their other captains will swear the same or we will not let them pass."
Old Flint shook his head. "They will betray us."
"The Weeper's word is worthless," said Othell Yarwyck.
Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think we get another update on the Weeper in this book. I don't think he's passed the Wall.
+.+.+
"The gods of the North, since before this Wall was raised," said Jon. "Those are the gods that Tormund swore by. He will keep his word. I know him, as I knew Mance Rayder. I marched with them for a time, you may recall."
"I had not forgotten," said the Lord Steward.
No, thought Jon, I did not think you had.
What possessed him to bring that up?
+.+.+
"It is not their children who concern us. We fear the fathers, not the sons."
"As do I. So I insisted upon hostages." I am not the trusting fool you take me for … nor am I half wildling, no matter what you believe. "One hundred boys between the ages of eight and sixteen. A son from each of their chiefs and captains, the rest chosen by lot. The boys will serve as pages and squires, freeing our own men for other duties. Some may choose to take the black one day. Queerer things have happened. The rest will stand hostage for the loyalty of their sires."
The northmen glanced at one another. "Hostages," mused The Norrey. "Tormund has agreed to this?"
It was that, or watch his people die. "My blood price, he called it," said Jon Snow, "but he will pay."
Maybe lead with this next time.
Can't say I'm a big fan of child hostages.
We're going to hope this doesn't go to hell once Jon's killed. If I had to guess, I'd say the Meereen hostages both sides hold are in a lot greater danger.
+.+.+
"None but them whose sires displeased the Kings o' Winter," said The Norrey. "Those came home shorter by a head. So you tell me, boy … if these wildling friends o' yours prove false, do you have the belly to do what needs be done?"
Ask Janos Slynt. "Tormund Giantsbane knows better than to try me. I may seem a green boy in your eyes, Lord Norrey, but I am still a son of Eddard Stark."
Janos Slynt wasn't an innocent child, tough guy.
+.+.+
Marsh flushed a deeper shade of red. "The lord commander must pardon my bluntness, but I have no softer way to say this. What you propose is nothing less than treason. For eight thousand years the men of the Night's Watch have stood upon the Wall and fought these wildlings. Now you mean to let them pass, to shelter them in our castles, to feed them and clothe them and teach them how to fight. Lord Snow, must I remind you? You swore an oath."
"I know what I swore." Jon said the words. "I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. Were those the same words you said when you took your vows?"
"They were. As the lord commander knows."
"Are you certain that I have not forgotten some? The ones about the king and his laws, and how we must defend every foot of his land and cling to each ruined castle? How does that part go?" Jon waited for an answer. None came. "I am the shield that guards the realms of men. Those are the words. So tell me, my lord—what are these wildlings, if not men?"
Bowen Marsh opened his mouth. No words came out. A flush crept up his neck.
That's a great point, but I wouldn't have been so sassy about it.
To be fair, I know what happens.
+.+.+
Outside the day was bright and cloudless. The sun had returned to the sky after a fortnight's absence, and to the south the Wall rose blue-white and glittering. There was a saying Jon had heard from the older men at Castle Black: the Wall has more moods than Mad King Aerys, they'd say, or sometimes, the Wall has more moods than a woman. On cloudy days it looked to be white rock. On moonless nights it was as black as coal. In snowstorms it seemed carved of snow. But on days like this, there was no mistaking it for anything but ice. On days like this the Wall shimmered bright as a septon's crystal, every crack and crevasse limned by sunlight, as frozen rainbows danced and died behind translucent ripples. On days like this the Wall was beautiful.
x
Jon Snow turned away. The last light of the sun had begun to fade. He watched the cracks along the Wall go from red to grey to black, from streaks of fire to rivers of black ice. Down below, Lady Melisandre would be lighting her nightfire and chanting, Lord of Light, defend us, for the night is dark and full of terrors.
The beginning and end of the chapter. The Wall is doing symbolism again.
+.+.+
"Winter is coming," Jon said at last, breaking the awkward silence, "and with it the white walkers. The Wall is where we stop them. The Wall was made to stop them … but the Wall must be manned. This discussion is at an end. We have much to do before the gate is opened. Tormund and his people will need to be fed and clothed and housed. Some are sick and will need nursing. Those will fall to you, Clydas. Save as many as you can."
[...]
"Lord Bowen, you shall collect the tolls. The gold and silver, the amber, the torques and armbands and necklaces. Sort it all, count it, see that it reaches Eastwatch safely."
"Yes, Lord Snow," said Bowen Marsh.
And Jon thought, "Ice," she said, "and daggers in the dark. Blood frozen red and hard, and naked steel." His sword hand flexed. The wind was rising.
What's the point of remembering those words if you're not going to do anything about it?
Final thoughts:
Often imitated, never duplicated.
That's what happens when you expect a cheap knockoff to do the job of a real princess.
-> return to menu <-
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would you still love me if i were a worm
@espectres
' i'm already a monster , aren't i ? ' ( and somehow , for some reason , don't you love me still ... ? ) the sharp , playful grin on his face expresses every mischievous intention at first : let's play a game . no summary , no simple yes or no . ' let me guess ... ' he takes one step closer . just a step , fitting his hands into deep pockets as he eyes the other . the thin , skinny slits of his pupils gradually turn full and round , but he doesn't let himself loom ; fails to cast any sort of shadow over the far-smaller boy who he admired as something no less than the light of his very life . ' are you worried i'd eat you ? '
because he was black-winged , birdlike , bony and cruel ; because he kept sheathed talons at the tip of each cold , marble-esque hand ? ' or maybe you're worried that i'd lose interest because we wouldn't easily be able to communicate anymore , and so i'd try to find someone else . ' abandonment . his head tilts to one side , as if he were contemplating such a scenario . ' ... a worm lives for five , maybe around ten years with enough care and a little luck . ' it's here that the sharp ends of his stare seems to dull and melt with his every hidden , silent tenderness . ' ... well , my feelings would last for far , far beyond that . '
what would he have done if shou , if by some wicked magic , truly had turned into a worm ? the boy was restless . legless at times as it were , trying to make something out of the tossed soil and over-turned loam of his life , sensitive and sometimes even thrashing as one of life's most simplest yet beautiful creatures , one that felt with all of its skin , even blind . one step closer , another . he's closed every distance now , and so the thief's arms wrap about the other . wings wriggle out of their fold , and he lets them fan out and happily flutter as he cradles the other's cheek and lands a gentle kiss onto the top of their head . ' ... i would , of course , still do all of this and more with you . '
he would have kept shou safe . he would have tried everything he could to keep shou happy . he would have sung even if there was nothing to be heard , merely felt ; the reverberations of a lullaby , perhaps ; the firm pulse and pound of his heart and its favor . ' you would still be mine ... ' he bends until their foreheads touch , then hums and purrs as he lingers there , the soft summer flush blooming across his cheeks accompanying the heat in his chest and the steady thrum and pound in his ears . ' ... and i would still be yours . ' palms shifts to intertwine their digits together and he lifts the shared knit of themselves . he grins brightly still , even as his teeth ache and feel to file themselves down , muscles and sinews uncomfortably compressing , feathers and all their strange , connecting bones and limbs retreating away into the hidden , invisible spaces of his back and his very blood .
would you still love me if i was nothing more than an ordinary , clumsy boy ? the question felt almost absurd , ridiculous to pose in the face of someone like shou . and thus ; be it in another form or even with yet another voice , ' you wouldn't have to say anything , either . because i trust you . ' with every secret , with every lonely crevice , the hundreds and thousands of halls and seats within the invisible opera house of his heart , reserved for just one . ' ... i hope you can trust me too . not just when i say it , but when i try to show it , too . i love you . i don't want anything to get in between us . ' if it could have been helped , then he wouldn't let it . ' not even if you really did turn into a worm . '
#*・゚⊰ ANSWERED. ⊱#CANON.#espectres#DO NOT JOKE WIT ME ABT WORM LOVING I HAVE NEVER NOT ONCE WRITTEN 10 PARAS ABOUT WORM LOVING#ACROSS ALL MY BLOGS WHENEVER SB SENDS ME THIS!!!!!!!
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Chapter 23 - I don't want this moment to ever end [Chishiya x Reader]
You were on the tenth round.
Or was it the eleventh?
You couldn't even remember. You were so tired. Chishiya usually woke up early, and you with him. But while he was perfectly content with about seven hours of sleep, you needed ten at the very least.
You placed your elbows on a table, and were holding your head between both hands, drifting off. Your eyes would close and you had to force them to open. You felt sluggish, and would have given one of your little fingers for a warm bed and a nice nap. Maybe even both. What did you use them for, either way? You had read something about how people in the future wouldn't have them any longer. Or were those the pinky toes?
People kept dying.
That was nothing new, people had died in almost all of the games you had been to. In this one, though, it was particularly barbaric, because their deaths were being caused by the lies of other players and not just by the circumstances of the game itself.
Poor Ippei couldn't bear it any longer.
"Why are they lying to each other? This is so cruel I… I can't." His rambling speech went on, and on, and on, while he moved from one side of the room to the other. Your eyes focused on him. God, you were tired. But you still wanted to help. "I thought people were better than this."
"That's the whole point of the game." You sighed. You had said the same thing every round since the seventh. At first, kindly. Now, you were trying hard to keep irritation away from the tone of your voice. "They don't want to die. The only thing we can do is tell each other what our suit is, is the only way we will survive. Sometimes… Fear can turns us into monsters."
He observed you. You could tell he wanted to trust you, so much. But it was not that easy.
"I'm hungry I… I'll get something to eat."
You nodded, and went back to the not-yet-asleep-but-also-not-awake state you had been in for the last hour more or less.
Chishiya sat next to you and you smiled, groggily, in his direction.
"Hi."
"Are you okay?"
"Just tired. Adrenaline left my body at some point during the last three rounds or so."
He looked around. There was nobody around you. So he lifted his hand and placed it on your cheek, stroking it carefully. You moved your face to kiss the palm of his hand, wanting nothing more than to cuddle with him.
But you couldn't. Because he was still going on about how he didn't want anybody to use you against him in the game. Or so you thought. Maybe he didn't care anymore, because he surrounded your body with both arms, placing a kiss on the top of your head, which was now laying on his shoulder.
"You are adorable." You heard him say. You frowned, weirded out by his choice of words.
"I have never heard you say "adorable" before."
"I had yet to see something that would fit its definition so well."
"Do you know the exact definition of all the words in the dictionary?"
"No." He smiled while you accommodated your body on top of the bench the two of you were sitting in, almost melting into him.
You sighed, eyes closed, trying to enjoy his presence, his smell, his touch. You hadn't been this close in eleven hours. More if you counted the waiting time before the game started.
However, you still had an explosive collar around your neck, that seemed to scream "Hi! I'm here! Don't you forget about me!" every single time you got a little bit too comfortable.
"When do you think this will be over?"
"Soon, I think. There is only seven of us left."
"Is that why you are getting all mushy-mushy with me?"
You felt his body softly shake with laughter, but he didn't make a sound.
"Is it that hard to believe I might have missed you just as much as you have?"
"How did you know I missed you?" You opened one eye only, and stick your tongue out, which you did when you were joking, just in case he wouldn't catch that you were lying through your teeth. You had missed him to death. "Do you think it's really pointless for me to try to save Ippei?" You asked, wanting to know his opinion on the matter now that you could talk freely.
Both your eyes were opened now, and you had turned around so that your back was against his chest. Your face rested next to his.
"I only think it's pointless because he's not the sort of person to survive here. He has you, now. He won't have you in the next game."
"I'm not the kind of person to survive this, either."
He looked at you from the corner of his eye. "I disagree. But even if you weren't, you have me. Now and always."
How was it you could still feel sparks between you when he said those things? Wasn't the honeymoon phase supposed to be just that, a phase?
"In the beginning the game was really hard on me. I started to think maybe you were the Jack and you had been planning this ever since we met."
"While I'm honored you think that, because it means you think very highly of my stratagems, no. I try not to plan anything when it comes to you anymore."
"So you just go with the flow then?" You knew that sentence would horrify him, and it did, because you felt his body tense up and you could almost picture his eyebrows furrowing. "We should get matching tattoos. I'm thinking maybe a little alien with a cap on a skateboard. And then "go with the flow" really big, but like in comic sans."
"You can get that. Think I will pass."
You were giggling, and turned your head slightly to give him a kiss on the cheek. You loved him. You were not going to tell him again, but you did.
"If I had to get a tattoo for you it would be a cat."
"I thought you were the cat." There was a hidden question in the way he pronounced those words. He wanted you to explain your reasoning.
So you did. "You're like a street cat, mischievous, cunning, always used to getting what you want by whatever means necessary. You may look menacing at the beginning, but you end up purring and asking for scratches between the ears if given enough time. And lots, lots of treats."
His lips curved upwards. "What treats have you given me to have me like this?"
"I'm the treat."
This time he laughed, and made noise. But he suffocated it, burying his face on your hair. He left a kiss on the side of your jaw before he went back to his original position.
You stayed there a bit more, embracing. Until the ridiculous robotic voice told you it was almost time to guess your suit. You had almost forgotten.
"Yours is a heart." Chishiya said, checking what was in the back of your collar before standing up, and you nodded. Ippei had told you before and you remembered.
"And you have…" You moved his blonde locks so that you could see. "A heart, as well."
He also had yours.
You walked towards the jail cells, side by side.
#chishiya x fem!reader#chishiya x reader#chishiya fanfic#chishiya angst#chishiya#aib chishiya#chishiya aib#shuntaro chishiya#shuntaro chishiya x reader#chishiya shuntaro#chishiya x you#chishiya x y/n#chishiya alice in borderland#chishiya fic#chishiya fluff#Spotify#as much as you want
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