#* (&&. ask) everyone is allowed to have questions ; but are they brave enough to obtain the answer ? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alexbkrieger13 · 2 years ago

Text

"It's sad to see how few players have raised their voices against the World Cup," says Magda Eriksson. International with the Swedish national team and one of Chelsea's biggest stars. Eriksson tries to recall co-workers who have been openly critical of the World Cup in Qatar. "In Germany, good enough. Norway went out to play a qualifying match with a shirt that claimed to respect human rights, but they haven't qualified for the World Cup. I'm proud of Sweden because the pressure from the fans and the clubs he managed to prevent the men's team from going on a training stay in Qatar," he recalls. "In England I have seen some players who admit they are not comfortable with the World Cup, but with a small mouth. Gareth Southgate, the selector, he said he thought it was bad how people are treated in Qatar but then let it slip that the workers who have been exploited in the stadiums want the World Cup to take place," she adds. "I, as a homosexual woman, do not feel welcome in Qatar. Why should I go there? If this is the most global sport, the World Cup should be held in a place where everyone is welcome," she adds. "We already know that it is a men's World Cup and that, therefore, it is up to women to be protagonists when play our World Cup. But it is no longer a question of waiting for a woman to be the director of the tournament or run the media. It's about hoping that the tournament is held in a place where the woman isn't sent to prison for adultery or doesn't need her father's permission to do everything." Eriksson has read a lot on the subject in recent months. "I was critical of the tournament right from the start, but I wanted to get to know the differences between the countries. To see that there are countries where, of course, things are even worse. But we have expert reports that show that women in Qatar are asked for their father's permission to get married, to go study abroad, to get jobs... If a divorce occurs, the children will always go with the father, obviously. Very few women have been able to reach public positions. There is a culture of masculinity from time to time, which reduces the role of women in the World Cup to the singers who will perform at the opening," she complains. The most prominent name of a woman in the World Cup is surely that of the British architect born in Baghdad Zaha Hadid,

"I expected more from the players. I'm disappointed with the Swedish players. I didn't expect them all to step forward, but a little more criticism, yes. Maybe it's because we women footballers are more critical, since always they ask us questions about our rights and we've learned to be brave when we speak up," she says. The Australian men's national team did issue a statement calling on Qatar to improve human rights. German player Joshua Kimmich said: "I don't like playing in a country where you can be sent to prison for being gay, where women don't have the same rights. It's a shame." Kimmich, however, will go to play the tournament to defend a German team that has been one of the few that has openly positioned itself against a World Cup in Qatar.

"I don't like playing in a country where you can be sent to prison for being gay, where women don't have the same rights. It's a shame"

JOSHUA KIMMICH-Player from Germany

According to Qatari laws, women must obtain the permission of their husbands or fathers to marry, regardless of age or previous marital status, as polygamy exists. Qatari law allows men to marry up to four wives, without requiring the permission of any of them. Once a woman is married, she will be considered "disobedient" if she does not obtain her husband's permission before working or traveling abroad. She is also considered disobedient by law if she refuses to have sex without a medical certificate, for example. Also, women cannot be primary guardians of their sons or daughters at any time. They have no authority to make independent decisions regarding their children's documents, business, or travel. In fact, in the case of a marriage where the father dies of illness, custody of the children will be given to the state, rather than to the mother, as a single woman is not allowed to be in charge of the creatures Unlike other countries in the area, women in Qatar have been allowed to drive for years. They can also vote in elections in which there are no political parties and only the representatives of a chamber with little power and the presence of few women are elected.

#magdalena eriksson #chelsea fcw #swewnt #world cup #swewnt article

27 notes · View notes

ladykissingfish · 3 years ago

Text

The Akatsuki’s Reactions To Thunderstorms

Got the inspiration for this because lately we’ve been having a bunch of storms where I live, like back to back ((in fact it’s pouring outside my window as I type this)) so yenno it got me thinking, how would my favorite Band ‘O Killers™️ react to this situation?

Pein (Nagato) and Konan:

Storms of any kind, especially involving rain, are triggering to both of them. They come from a place where, as their friend Yahiko once put it, is “ALWAYS raining; like this whole village is constantly crying”. Rain to them represents pain, and hunger, and suffering. Konan is actually terrified of thunderstorms; one time when Pein was out, there was a storm and Konan, who usually went to Pein for comfort, was beside herself. Kisame found her curled up and shaking on the floor in the hallway (the one place without any widows to see the lightning) and, without asking questions, he laid beside her and put his arms around her, holding her and gently talking to her until the storm had passed. Pein doesn’t have the same physical reaction as Konan; rather, storms tend to intensify the repressed anger that lives in his chest. Every member of the Akatsuki knows to avoid Pein during a storm, because they know it’ll be the time he’s most likely to hand out difficult missions, or yell at somebody about something they’ve done.

Deidara:

Maybe unsurprisingly, the blonde artist loves storms. The bigger the better, the louder and more destructive, the more “artistic”. Storms bring out the competitiveness of Deidara, who always insists that he can match (or top) a clap of thunder with one of his bombs. Loves to see lightning strike things, and has to be stopped from going outside during storms to see this happen up-close. Since they won’t let him outside, he’ll stay with his face pressed up against the window, his expression the same as a child watching fireworks go off in the night sky. Also exponentially prefers night storms to daytime storms, as he claims the booming and shaking helps him to sleep.

Tobi (Obito):

As Tobi, he acts almost as scared of thunderstorms as Konan, although in a decidedly more goofy and exaggerated way. Hiding under the bed or in the closet, clinging to Deidara, making comments about “monsters in the sky coming to eat us!” As Deidara loves storms, he’s often impatient with Tobi and his irrational fears, giving him long lectures on the wild, untamed beauty of nature. As Obito, he actually finds rain and storms to be quite soothing, especially at night. He likes to sit in his room with his mask off, staring out the windows and letting his mind wander. The constant drumming of water hitting the ground relaxes him like nothing else, and he’ll always sleep better during a storm than any other time. The night after a particularly strong storm was the only time that his Senpai came close to seeing him without a mask on, as “Tobi” fell asleep and stayed sleeping very late into the morning, forcing Deidara to come looking for him. He woke up just seconds before his door burst open, just enough time to slide his mask into place, but still.

Sasori:

Doesn’t really care one way or the other about storms, unless he’s traveling in them. There’s been a few times in the past when he’s been on missions with Deidara, the two have been walking along, and a sudden downpour stopped them in their tracks. Seeking shelter during a storm is always a difficulty, especially to two people trying to remain largely incognito, the way the Akatsuki was supposed to do. Also, his young partner really enjoys the rain, and Sasori has to keep an eye on him, to make sure he’s not sneaking out into it and potentially getting sick. If there’s one thing that Sasori does enjoy about storms, it’s the smell of the air after it rains. He’s tried for years to duplicate this smell into a scent that could be put in a candle or incense, but to no avail.

Kisame:

Wind, WATER, danger — what’s not to love?! If he’s able to leave the hideout, Kisame will seek out the nearest body of water, and go swimming. Rainwater tapping the surface of a lake or river makes all the smaller fish come to the top, making it incredibly easy for Kisame to scoop them up in his jaws. The warmth of the water from the sky also mixes with the natural coolness of running water, creating a delightful sensory experience for the half-shark. Sometimes, however, a “cozy” mood will envelope him and he’ll simply desire staying inside, often curling up with a good book or spending time sipping tea and eating snacks with his partner Itachi. And “snacks” is putting it mildly; for some reason stormy weather always awakens a voracious appetite in Kisame, and he can easily put away the entire house’s weekly supply of food in one sitting ((and Kakuzu knows this, hence why he’ll literally put locks on the cabinets if Kisame is home during a storm)).

Kakuzu:

When Kakuzu hears rain, he hears the sound of money flying out the windows. Every single place that the group has ever used for a hideout has been of the absolute bare-minimum construction, which unfortunately allowed for some of the outside elements to get inside; like snow, and heat, and bugs ... and rain. Water damage is a particularly expensive bitch to fix, and Kakuzu is constantly forced to shell out money from the treasury to reinforce the roof, and/or provide rain gear and supplies for those venturing out on missions during storms. And missions carried out during storms alone are horrible, as they generally slow down speed and productivity, meaning longer times until mission completion and a delay in obtaining the goods or people or (most importantly) money that they were sent to retrieve. The only positive thing that Kakuzu can find to say about storms is that the rain helps the fruits and vegetables in the Akatsuki garden grow, which of course saves money on grocery trips.

Zetsu:

LOVES the rain. Storms make him ridiculously happy, and he likes to go outside and stand directly in a downpour, letting the cleansing water soak into his plantlike skin. Like any blossom, however, he has to be on guard against getting TOO much water into his system. Everybody knows not to bother Zetsu during his “meditation” time in a storm, as he will undoubtedly be standing out there in the nude. Storms also pose an interesting challenge to him, food-wise. Most of the small animals that Zetsu likes to prey on hide or burrow themselves during a loud rain-lashing, making them more difficult (but much more rewarding) for Zetsu to find.

Hidan:

Hidan is constantly seeking ways to test and prove the “limits” of his immortality. He’s “died” and come back from pretty much everything one can think of; stabbing, evisceration, decapitation ... but one thing he’s never done is “come back” from being struck full in the heart by a lightning bolt. So whenever a good storm gets going, Hidan will strip naked, wearing only his metal Jashin necklace, and stand in the rain, daring the lightning to hit him. If this had been anyone else, every Akatsuki member would be breaking their neck rushing outside to drag him back in. But with Hidan, everyone is, well, curious. CAN he withstand lightning? IS he truly immortal? Anyone who’s able will gather at the windows or just inside the front door, to watch the spectacle of Hidan screaming obscenities at the sky and taunting nature ... but unfortunately nothing ever happens. Hidan will just end up coming back inside soaked to the skin, and Kakuzu will yell at him for dripping all over the floor. But Hidan will point out that water is better than the blood he usually leaks, which the others whole-heartedly agree with.

Itachi:

When Itachi was younger, storms used to scare the hell out of him. He could go to his mother for comfort, but only if his father wasn’t home. If he WAS, he’d tell Itachi to toughen up and “be a man, son.” He later came to find out that his little brother Sasuke was the same way; at nighttime Itachi would wake up during a storm and feel a small body burrowed next to his, shaking like a leaf. He’d hold his brother and tell him stories until he fell asleep, and in doing so, learned the first valuable lesson of his life; it’s hard to be brave when you’re alone, but infinitely easier when you have to be brave for the sake of someone else. Now, storms always put him in mind of these long-forgotten moments of sibling tenderness, which in turn makes him sad. To combat this he copies his younger brother by seeking out comfort, mostly in the form of Kisame. Sometimes he’ll also go and spend time with Konan, as he discovered that SHE was afraid of storms, as well. Oftentimes he, Kisame and Konan will stay together, taking turns telling stories until the wild weather has passed. Another lesson: it’s easier to be brave, the more people you have around you trying to be brave as well.

#the akatsuki #thunderstorm #storms #naruto shippuden #pein/nagato #konan #sasori #deidara #kakuzu #hidan #zetsu #tobi #obito uchiha #kisame hoshigaki #itachi uchiha #headcanon

75 notes · View notes

robininthelabyrinth · 4 years ago

Note

I am grinning like a FOOL at nmj/wwx/lwj. Aaaaaahhh just imagine the looks on everyone’s faces ESPECIALLY the jins, can you IMAGINE. Every sect except their own has entered a marriage alliance in one swoop, and that marriage alliance includes three of the most powerful cultivators alive. I’m in love with this.

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, past 5 - aka Pastime (with good company)

“I can forgive you for getting married, but not for making me tell Uncle about it,” Lan Xichen said without ceremony as he swept into the room like a puff of aggravated white cloud – and yes, he was well aware that was how he was coming off, he had plenty of self-awareness. Besides, it wasn’t as if he was actually upset anymore; he hadn’t seen so many secret little smiles from Lan Wangji since their childhood. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him turn that shade of red before. I think he was even thinking of throwing something at me!”

“Did you mention the bit where it technically fulfilled his requirements regarding devoting to a single spouse?” Nie Mingjue asked from behind his teacup, eyes bright with amusement and not even a speck of shame. It was just like him, too; Nie Mingjue was not one to regret decisions he had made. “Huaisang mentioned that you’d said that: I rather liked that one.”

“I did,” Lan Xichen said, making a face at Nie Mingjue and causing him to laugh. “It didn’t help. As you probably could have guessed, you – oh! A-Yao, be careful, you’re spilling the tea.”

Jin Guangyao looked down at where he’d filled his teacup to overflowing. “Ah,” he said, and put the teapot down, reaching for a piece of cloth to clean up the mess on the table. “Forgive me, I wasn’t paying attention to what I was doing…I’m sorry, er-ge, did you say that da-ge was marrying? And you – told your uncle about it, for some reason?”

“Well, there wasn’t much of a choice,” Lan Xichen sighed, sitting down and accepting the cup of tea that Nie Mingjue slid over to him instead. “Since one of his brides is going to be my brother.”

“Your brother? You mean – Wangji? And - one of his brides…?”

“He only has the one brother; who else could he mean?” Nie Mingjue pointed out, and Lan Xichen shot him a glare to remind him to behave – it wasn’t Jin Guangyao’s fault that he probably had more siblings than he could count on both hands and feet, after all.

“Yes,” he said, turning to Jin Guangyao. “Forgive me, A-Yao, I entirely forgot you weren’t at the Unclean Realm when this was all being discussed at the start. As it stands now, Da-ge will be taking two brides to share the position of first wife, one of which is my brother.”

Jin Guangyao was blinking very rapidly, clearly attempting to process the information and just as clearly having some difficulty. Possibly at the idea of Nie Mingjue getting married at all, much less in a cutsleeve marriage – in fact, Lan Xichen wasn’t sure he’d ever mentioned to him that Lan Wangji was a cutsleeve.

Did Jin Guangyao maybe have some lingering prejudices? It seemed unlikely, given what Lan Xichen knew of his personality, but such issues were more often seen among the common people…

“I see,” Jin Guangyao said. “And…who’s the other one?”

“Wei Wuxian,” Nie Mingjue said, and he looked so incredibly pleased about it that Lan Xichen reluctantly shelved the idea of scolding him further. A smile from Lan Wangji, a smile from Wei Wuxian, a smile from Nie Mingjue – anything that caused this many smiles was bound to be a good thing.

Even if poor Jin Guangyao’s smile did look a bit strained…

“He’s what?!”

Jin Guangyao held his hands apart as if to indicate he had no idea how it had happened either, and Jin Zixuan thought that for once in his life his duplicative half-brother might be completely and utterly sincere. “He confirmed it himself.”

“Wei Wuxian,” Jin Guangshan growled, having apparently decided to skip over shock in favor of paranoid theorizing. “Of course – all this time, Nie Mingjue pretended to disdain the Stygian Tiger seal, looking down on it, but in reality he was seeking his own means of obtaining it –”

Jin Zixuan didn’t think that was especially likely.

He’d fought with Nie Mingjue during the war as one of his lieutenants. Even though his father had insisted that the Jin sect fight under its own banner, it’d quickly become obvious that none of the generals his father had appointed had the slightest idea of what they were doing, unlike Nie Mingjue; to keep his people from enduring another slaughter, Jin Zixuan had forced himself to swallow his pride and ask Nie Mingjue for advice.

The other man had never once lorded it over him, even though Jin Zixuan was in the weaker position – his letters had been straightforward and to the point, answering his questions without any judgment, and when they worked together in person, he was the same.

Jin Zixuan had spent entire nights worrying about his motives, and a shamefully long time to realize that the reason Nie Mingjue was acting the way he did was because he was just – like that. Honest and forthright and disinclined towards scheming, the way everyone said he was; a man who was righteous in the sense that he did what he thought was right, not in the sense of flattering himself to think he was better than others.

(Somewhere along the line, Jin Zixuan had shifted from choking down his pride to choking down guilt at thinking that Nie Mingjue was a better leader than his father – and that he’d probably have been a better father, too, no matter how Nie Huaisang had ultimately turned out. He thought, though he did not know, that if he had not adopted some of Nie Mingjue’s straightforwardness in pursuing Jiang Yanli, she might not be his bride today.)

“ – why didn’t any of us think of that?” Jin Guangshan was demanding when Jin Zixuan tuned back into the conversation, and it made him nearly choke. “A-Xuan! What sounds are you making over there?”

“Nothing, father,” Jin Zixuan said, coughing a little to clear his throat. “Merely – admiring how unorthodox Chifeng-zun’s thinking must have been.”

Jin Guangyao’s lips twitched. It was only a second, there and gone, but Jin Zixuan had still seen the little glimpse of humor. It was truly a pity, he reflected, that his brother wanted his position more than his friendship; they might have been good friends, in another world. Of course, that was the way things went in Lanling, with each person out for themselves, but ever since he’d married Jiang Yanli, he’d started to think that perhaps the greedy, grasping, conniving world his father had cultivated around him wasn’t the right way to lead a sect.

He used to think that the Jin sect was better than everyone else because of the way they thought – that only they were honest enough to acknowledge the frailties in human nature and to make use of them, rather than pretending that people could really be brave and righteous and true, that friendship was a real thing rather than another name for allies of convenience, that love was anything more than a momentary lapse, a weakness – but he didn’t any more. The other righteous sects might be naïve in their belief in righteousness, but believing in righteousness encouraged righteous behavior; even if it was done only as a façade, for most people, the façade would eventually turn into truth after it became enough of a habit.

For most people, anyway.

Jin Zixuan had done his best to like his new brother – upstanding war hero that he was – but he couldn’t quite manage it. He was too familiar with people who came to him with gentle smiles that hid daggers, and his mother, while far too vicious, was unfortunately right that those who shared his parentage all seemed to have their eyes fixed firmly on his position. Jin Guangyao might pretend that he didn’t, but some of the moves he’d made were a little too obviously meant to be consolidations of power: courting the Qin girl, being friendly with certain dissatisfied factions…

Jin Zixuan heard that Jin Guangyao had once been Nie Mingjue’s deputy, wearing a façade of righteousness, and their current enmity had been birthed once the other man had seen what he was really like.

It seemed like a bad trade to him, scrabbling for scraps in Lanling instead of being respected as a man in Qinghe, but he supposed he was in no position to judge. He’d had all the advantages in the world given to him at his birth, and he’d still taken so very long to figure out that righteousness was actually worth something by itself.

His father was still ranting about Wei Wuxian, with his half-brother indulging him with nods and questions that didn’t achieve anything other than making his father feel good about himself for having guessed right, and eventually Jin Zixuan was sick enough of it to feel the need to divert the conversation.

“Whatever his motives may be for marrying Wei Wuxian,” he said, “surely those reasons don’t apply to Hanguang-jun, who possesses no secret power to be obtained. It’s not as though the Nie sect needs a connection to the Lan sect – Chifeng-zun is already sworn brothers with Zewu-jun.”

He paused, deliberately, then added, as if in afterthought, “And A-Yao, of course.”

Jin Guangyao might have mastered the ways of the mistress, sweetness and support and indulgence to win favor, but Jin Zixuan had grown up with a mother that had never allowed an infamously straying husband to bring home a single concubine – if Jin Guangyao thought a few tricks were enough to get his position, he was only dreaming.

Jin Zixuan would help him wake up.

“Do you think it’s that he doesn’t like A-Xian enough to marry just him?” Jiang Yanli asked, biting her lip, but her husband shook his head with a laugh.

“My father couldn’t think of a reason either,” he said, looking arrogant and smug in that charming sort of way he had when he was happy. “The only thing he could come up with after hours and hours was that he might be some sort of pretty flower vase meant as a consolation for having to marry the Yiling Patriarch.”

“But you don’t think that.”

“Of course not. Chifeng-zun is a good man, and even if he wasn’t, he’s old friends with Zewu-jun, who would never allow anything like that.”

Jiang Yanli conceded the point, but that still didn’t explain why. She’d known, of course, of Jiang Cheng’s desperate gamble to protect Wei Wuxian and keep him in the Jiang sect in some manner – technically not, since he’d be under the protection of the Nie sect going forward, but this way at least made sure that he’d always have his family backing. She’d even hoped, based on some things Jiang Cheng had said to her, that Wei Wuxian was happy with the marriage, looking forward to it.

But why would Nie Mingjue take a second wife – no, another first wife – at the same time? Wasn’t that looking down at her brother?

“Personally, my theory is that he just didn’t want to get cuckolded,” Jin Zixuan said, playing with her hair. “So he took precautions against it.”

“Cuckolded?” she asked, and she could feel him turn red – her husband was sensitive about such things, a remnant of his unhappy childhood. He was terrified that she might start to suspect him of crimes he hadn’t yet committed (as if he wasn’t a terrible enough liar that she’d know at once anyway if he’d really done anything), and he usually avoided any discussion of infidelity like the plague. She wasn’t letting him off this time, though, not if Wei Wuxian’s happiness was at stake. “What do you mean? A-Xian wouldn’t betray someone he’d sworn himself to.”

Not without a good reason, anyway. The way Wei Wuxian had been behaving recently towards Jiang Cheng – towards the Jiang sect generally, especially after the business with the Wen sect remnants – could almost make her think terrible things, and only the fact she loved her brother as blindly as she did could make her unswerving in her faith that there was some purpose behind his seemingly cruel behavior.

“Probably not,” Jin Zixuan agreed. “But I mean – come on. I didn’t notice it when I was younger, because I was an idiot back then –”

He said it, not her.

“– but Wei Wuxian chased after Lan Wangji the entire time we were at the Wen indoctrination camp together. Same way I chased after you, actually.”

“With no grace or tact or knowledge of women?” she teased, and he blushed and rubbed his cheek against hers.

“Well, yes,” he said. “But I got you in the end, didn’t I?”

That was a good point.

Jiang Yanli hadn’t seen them interacting enough to really judge – convention separating men from women the way it did – but Wei Wuxian had spoken of Lan Wangji rather a lot after his time studying in the Cloud Recesses. It was certainly a plausible guess.

“So you think Sect Leader Nie married Hanguang-jun for what reason?” she asked. “To keep A-Xian from pursing him?”

“Common wisdom in Lanling says that if it’s not to create connections, then there’s only two reasons for a man to take a concubine,” Jin Zixuan said with a shrug. “One is to keep the man company – the other’s to give company to his wife.”

Jiang Yanli’s eyebrows shot up. “Company for his wife?”

“Why not? Men and women move in different circles – if a man is worried his wife might be thinking of looking for company outside, it’s better to get her someone who will be by her side all the time, isn’t it?”

Jiang Yanli covered her mouth to hide her laughter. “I suppose so,” she said. “Please don’t get me company in the future, though; I’m quite capable of making friends on my own.”

“And I,” her husband said, perking up at once, “of keeping you too busy to even think about other company –”

“You really think it’s all right?” Jiang Cheng asked Jiang Yanli. He trusted his sister’s judgment, but he was still worried. “I don’t want Wei Wuxian to think he has to suffer in silence –”

Jiang Yanli patted his shoulder. “A-Cheng, think about what you’re saying. I’m not saying A-Xian wouldn’t suffer, but – in silence?”

“If he thought it might hurt one of us he would,” Jiang Cheng said stubbornly. “This was my idea, and you know he’s worried about messing up your relationship with Jin Zixuan by starting too much trouble, especially with the Jin sect being the first one to jump down his throat about it. And anyway, he wasn’t chasing after Lan Wangji! He was – he –”

He frowned. He’d always thought that they disliked each other – certainly Lan Wangji’s constantly cold expression didn’t suggest he enjoyed Wei Wuxian’s teasing, although Wei Wuxian did spend an awful lot of time planning out pranks centered around Lan Wangji in specific. Or even, as Jiang Yanli had pointed out, just talking about him.

Which he did. A lot.

“What if Lan Wangji doesn’t like him back?” he asked, suddenly consumed with a brand new worry. “If Chifeng-zun goes to all that trouble for Wei Wuxian, and gets his hopes up, and then it turns out that Lan Wangji really doesn’t like him –”

“I’m sure Sect Leader Nie must have thought it over carefully before he took any action,” Jiang Yanli said. “A-Xuan tells me that he’s a good person, a good leader, and a good general – he must have a plan. Don’t you think?”

“Well, he is all that,” Jiang Cheng admitted. He wouldn’t have been so confident in his plan to marry Wei Wuxian into the Nie sect if Nie Mingjue hadn’t been as righteous as his reputation. But still…

“Why don’t you see what Wei Wuxian thinks about it?” she suggested, quite reasonably. “And anyway, he’ll still need a chaperone for their next visit, and the seasonal floods are over – you could go supervise.”

Jiang Cheng brightened. His older sister always had the best ideas. “What would I do without you?” he asked, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek.

She laughed. “Starve, probably. Would you like some more soup?”

“Of course! Remind me, why am I letting you go off to Lanling again..?”

#mdzs #nie mingjue #lan xichen #jin guangyao #jin zixuan #jiang yanli #jiang cheng #my fic #my fics #pasttime in good company #Anonymous

288 notes · View notes

moravincitomnia · 3 years ago

Text

The Death Of Baldur

Try to read this without Loki laughing over your shoulder challenge

Baldur was one of the most beloved of all the gods, he was the son of Odin and the benevolent sorceress and goddess Frigg. Baldur was a generous, joyful and courageous character who gladdened the hearts of all who spent time with him. When therefore he began to have ominous dreams of some grave misfortune befalling him. the fearful gods appointed Odin to discover the meaning. Baldur’s father wasted no time taking Sleipnir and riding to the underworld to consult a dead seeress whom he knew was wise in such matters with a disguise. When Odin arrived he found the halls arrayed in splendour as if some magnificent feast was about to occur. Odin woke the seeress and questioned the festivity, and she responded that the guest of honour was to be none other than Baldur. She recounted how the god would meet his doom stopping when she realised the desperate nature of Odin’s entreaties, who this disguised wanderer truly was.

Odin returned to Asgard in sorrow and told his companions what he had been told. Frigg yearning for any chance of saving her treasured son went to every entity in the cosmos, living or non-living, and obtained oaths not to harm Baldur. Loki however, sensed an opportunity for mischief. In disguise he went to Frigg and asked her, “Did all things swear oaths to spare Baldur from harm?” “Oh, yes,” the goddess replied, “everything except the mistletoe. But the mistletoe is so small and innocent a thing that I felt it superfluous to ask it for an oath. What harm could it do to my son?” Immediately upon hearing this Loki departed, locating the mistletoe and carved a spear out of it and then brought it to where the gods were playing their new favourite game. He approached the blind god Hodr and said, “You must feel quite left out, having to sit back here away from the merriment, not being given a chance to show Baldur the honour of proving his invincibility.” The blind god concurred. “Here,” Said Loki, handing him the shaft of the mistletoe. “I will point your hand in the direction of where Baldur stands, and you will throw this branch at him.” So Hodr threw the mistletoe and it pierced straight through Baldur and he fell down dead on the spot.

The gods found themselves unable to speak as they trembled with fear and anguish. They knew that this event was the first presage of Ragnarok. At last Frigg composed herself enough to ask if there were any among them who were brave, loyal and compassionate enough to journey to the land of the dead and offer Hel a ransom for Baldurs release. Hermod offered to undertake this mission and Odin instructed Sleipnir to take Hermod to the underworld and off he went. The gods arranged a lavish funeral for their fallen friend. They turned Baldur’s ship Hringhorni into a pyre fitting for a great king. When the time came to launch the ship out to sea however the gods found it stuck in sand and unable to force it to budge. After many failed attempts they summoned a certain giantess Hyrrokkin who arrived in Asgard riding a wolf with poisonous snakes for reins. Finally the ship was freed after one almighty push. As Baldurs body was carried onto the ship his wife Nanna was struck with such grief that she died on the spot and was placed beside her husband. The fire was kindled and Thor hallowed the flames by holding his hammer over them, Odin laid upon the pyre his ring Draupnir and Baldur’s horse was led into the flames.

Meanwhile Hermod rode the nine nights through ever darker and deeper valleys on his quest to rescue the part of Baldur that had been sent to Hel. When he came to the river Gjoll, Modgud the giantess who guards the bridge aksed him his name and his purpose adding that it was strange that his footfalls were as thundering as those as an entire army. He answered her and she allowed him to cross over into Hel’s realm. When entering Hermod spotted Hel’s throne and Baldur, pale and downcast sitting in the seat of honour next to her, he spent the night there and pleaded with Hel to release Baldur, that everything in the cosmos felt great sorrow for Baldur and Hel responded, “ If this is so, then let everything in the cosmos weep for him, and I will send him back to you. But if any refuse, he will remain in my presence.” Hermod rode back to Asgard, told everyone what Hel said and indeed everything and everyone did weep for Baldur except for one giantess, Tokk who was Loki in disguise and coldly told the messengers who conveyed the message throughout the realms, “Let Hel hold what she has!”

And so Baldur was condemned to remain in Hel’s realm with her.

#norse mythology #norse pantheon #norse paganism #norse pagan witch #norse myth #norse myths

16 notes · View notes

gstqaobc · 3 years ago

Text

THE ROYAL FASCINATOR

Friday, May 21, 2021

Hello, royal watchers and all those intrigued by what’s going on inside the House of Windsor. This is your biweekly dose of royal news and analysis. Reading this online? Sign up here to get this delivered to your inbox.

Janet DavisonRoyal Expert

Meeting the Queen online

For Dr. Steve Beerman, it was in many ways like having a pleasant conversation with his 92-year-old mother. Except it wasn’t his mother. It was the Queen. Beerman, a retired family physician in Nanaimo, B.C., spoke with Queen Elizabeth online the other day as she gave him — virtually — an award recognizing his longstanding work in drowning prevention. “I’m very delighted to be able to present you with this cup, a very large cup, which one day you might see if you come to London,” Elizabeth told Beerman as she honoured him with the King Edward VII Cup during the virtual session with the Royal Life Saving Society. Beerman, co-chair of the Canadian Drowning Prevention Coalition, was quick to reply that it was “a pleasure and a humbling honour to be with you.” Being with the Queen in this way has become the way of the royal world during the pandemic. Many observers have said that virtual sessions involving the Queen have offered new insight into the 95-year-old monarch, who has more often been seen from afar, giving formal speeches or doing a walkabout. “Many people who commented to me about the interview [said] that they had never seen her have what they would describe as a nearly normal conversation with some people,” Beerman said. “My own mother is 92. This was not a whole lot different than talking to my own mother.” Beerman, a trustee with the Royal Life Saving Society, had met the Queen at Buckingham Palace a handful of times in connection with that Commonwealth organization. But his most recent session with her was memorable in a new way. “It was more chatty,” he said. “It was more communicative than when I’ve experienced these encounters in real life, face to face. So I thought this was actually a better way to do this.” A seven-minute video of the session involving Beerman and others honoured for their drowning prevention efforts was posted online, but the overall virtual encounter lasted about 20 minutes, and came after participants had two practice sessions. “In the second one, we actually rehearsed what we were going to say and we were coached in a very nice way by the people from the royal household about pausing and being slow enough to allow her to interject with comments or questions,” Beerman said. “We were very much encouraged to participate in a conversation as opposed to doing an acceptance speech.” Still, there was a bit of nervousness for Beerman as the call began. “There’s always some nerves about are you going to misstep or say something in a way you might regret or that might be perceived to be awkward by others,” he said. As the conversation progressed, Elizabeth shared her own memories of receiving a life-saving award as a teenager. In 1941, she became the first person in the Commonwealth to receive the Royal Life Saving Society’s junior respiration award. “I didn’t realize I was the first one — I just did it, and had to work very hard for it,” Elizabeth said. “It was a great achievement and I was very proud to wear the badge on the front of my swimming suit. It was very grand, I thought.” Beerman sees the shift to the virtual world for the Royal Family as a signal the House of Windsor can change with the times. “I think it’s a strong statement of ... we can pivot when we need to, we are flexible, adjustable and, like the rest of the world, we have to respond to the reality that we live within.”

The deceit behind the Diana interview

The interview was as devastating as it was haunting. And now, 26 years after Diana, Princess of Wales, sat down with a BBC journalist and told the world “there were three of us in this marriage, so it was a bit crowded,” an inquiry has found that Martin Bashir acted deceitfully to gain the interview. It’s a finding that will echo through both the royal and journalistic worlds. In response, Princes William and Harry made statements that lay bare the deep pain the interview with their mother has left with them. “It is my view that the deceitful way the interview was obtained substantially influenced what my mother said. The interview was a major contribution to making my parents’ relationship worse and has since hurt countless others," William said in his statement. "It brings indescribable sadness to know that the BBC’s failures contributed significantly to her fear, paranoia and isolation that I remember from those final years with her." But what saddens William the most, he said, “is that if the BBC had properly investigated the complaints and concerns first raised in 1995, my mother would have known that she had been deceived.” Diana was failed, he said, “not just by a rogue reporter, but by leaders at the BBC who looked the other way rather than asking the tough questions.” Prince Harry said their mother “was an incredible woman who dedicated her life to service. She was resilient, brave and unquestionably honest.” He said what “deeply concerns” him is that similar journalistic practices are still widespread. “Our mother lost her life because of this, and nothing has changed. By protecting her legacy, we protect everyone, and uphold the dignity with which she lived her life. Let’s remember who she was and what she stood for.” Observers suggest it will all have a significant impact on how the BBC is viewed. “It shakes the real core of journalism because people will no longer look to that broadcaster and trust them wholly because we now know that they're prepared to lie to coerce people into taking part in interviews,” marketing consultant Diana Young told the CBC’s Tesa Arcilla. Diana and Prince Charles were divorced in 1996. She died after a car crash in Paris in 1997.

Babies and the line of succession

(Peter Byrne/Press Association via The Associated Press Word this week that Princess Beatrice and her husband, Edoardo Mapelli Mozzi, are expecting their first child will add yet another shuffle in short order to the line of succession. The child, due sometime this fall, will be the 12th great-grandchild for the Queen, and the fourth baby to arrive in a matter of months. Beatrice’s younger sister, Princess Eugenie, and her husband, Jack Brooksbank, welcomed their son, August, in February. The following month, Princess Anne’s daughter Zara, and her husband, Mike Tindall, welcomed their son Lucas. Prince Harry and Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, are expecting a daughter, with a due date thought to be in early summer. That baby will take the highest spot in the succession among the new arrivals, landing at No. 8, following her father, Harry, who is sixth in line to the throne and Harry and Meghan’s first child, Archie, now sitting at No. 7. The passage of time can mean marked shifts in the line of succession for those who enter it somewhat lower in the roster. Take, for example, Sarah Chatto, daughter of Princess Margaret. When she was born in 1964, she was No. 7. Now, she is 26th.

Royally quotable

"Planting a tree is a statement of hope and faith in the future."

— Prince Charles, in a video posted online to mark the launch of the Queen’s Green Canopy,

a tree-planting initiative to mark Queen Elizabeth’s Platinum Jubilee

next year that aims to enhance the environment now and for future generations.

Royal reads

1. Prince Harry says the pain of Diana’s death

pushed him to drinking and drugs

. The Duke of Sussex’s latest comments, along with further criticism of how he said the Royal Family neglected both him and his wife, Meghan, came in an interview with Oprah Winfrey in The Me You Can’t See, a new Apple TV series about mental health debuting Friday. [CBC]

2. Queen Elizabeth’s

first major ceremonial duty since the death of her husband

, Prince Philip, came during a scaled-down state opening of Parliament. [The Independent]

3. Prince Michael of Kent, a cousin of Queen Elizabeth, has

denied reports

he was willing to use his royal status for personal profit and provide access to the regime of Russian President Vladimir Putin. [BBC]

4. There was

lots of taffeta and no tantrums

during the creation of Diana's wedding dress, recalls one of its designers. [The Guardian]

5. One of the Queen’s two new puppies, which she reportedly received a few months ago from Prince Andrew for companionship,

has died

. [The Daily Mail]

6. The succession for the British throne is clearly laid out, but succession can in some other countries be

considerably more complicated

. [The Guardian]

Cheers!

I’m always happy to hear from you. Send your ideas, comments, feedback and notes to

[email protected]

. Problems with the newsletter? Please let me know about any typos, errors or glitches.

New newsletter alert! Our CBC colleague Peter Armstrong has a newsletter called Mind Your Business, a weekly guide to understanding what’s happening in the worlds of economics, business and finance. Subscribe to it

here

💜🙏🏻🙂✝️💟PG💟✝️🙂🙏🏻💜

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿.

4 notes · View notes

wrathofthewind · 4 years ago

Text

ii. Mercy

The first he’d ever laid eyes on Marius, it was during a mission near the Jungles of Tar. Everyone knew not to enter beyond the bounds of the black palms and acid rain. The poisons alone made it impossible to traverse. But occasionally, a poor soul would wander in the dead of night, usually an ignorant one or worse, a desperate one. There had been many stories of sordid bandits and criminals attempting to flee for their life or evade capture by risking entry into the Jungle. If they managed to emerge, they would usually beg to be captured or end their life.

Some of the curses were putrified skin from the sap of plans that dripped on them, or becoming instantly blinded as they attempted to wash their face by a creek. If they dared eat, in the madness of starvation, their lips would be burned or teeth melted, never mind swallowing. Sometimes they found edible meats or fruits… and there were even prized medicines to be obtained, with the right equipment.

Anything that survived the Jungles of Tar was built from a material far beyond what was normal, it could endure and flourish? It was clearly the strongest of its kind. Arnalt never expected to find one such creature to be a child. This also happened often, parents without the means to raise a child would abandon them in one of the hollowed trees or on a pile of random leaves. The child would be like an offering to the gods at that point, or straight up fertilizer. But on a rare occasion, some children survived and were eventually found.

Perhaps a happy occasion for some, but to survive in the jungle, it was more likely the child was cursed by the Kur. The very source of the jungle’s terrifying symptoms… an ominous land that was buried underneath the jungle. The roots had clung to that land’s evil and to this day the Azurians would occasionally come to deliver cleansing spells and help the jungle heal. One patch per generation, perhaps.

Marius had been near the very edge of the forest. Arnalt and his guardians hadn’t even fully entered, on a mission to locate the rare Vegnas Spyralia. An extremely important herb for Arnalt’s crowning ceremony. He’d been 17 at the time, dressed head to toe in protective gear. Enchanted cloths tied all the way up to his mouth, with thick black robes concealing a lithe body underneath. His hair tied up and wrapped in the magical cloths as well, and his eyes shielded by a thin blue veil.

The boy, if it hadn’t been exposed to others before, would’ve thought him and his whole party a pack of monsters. Maybe assassins from the Fallaix—shadow dwellers. But the boy just started crying and plopped on the ground, squeezing a fruit until its juices stained his arm. He looked dust-covered and windswept. His clothes weren’t ragged, but his knees were scrapped and his knuckles were bruised. He might’ve accidentally wandered on his own and gotten lost, ended up in the borderlands. Hungry and scared, maybe climbed a few trees to locate someone.

The child now looked pitiful.

“Sire… should we…?” One of his guardians pointed at an arrow and his bow.

Arnalt lifted a hand. “It’s alright Pallax, he looks healthy enough, he might even survive.”

“But he’ll be cursed even if he does… who knows what poisons are now in his system.”

“I will not have a child killed by my men, under my watch. We save him. Quite frankly fuck the curse.”

“But… but it’s a Kur now!”

Tyssen also attempted to stop him but Arnalt wouldn’t have it and side-stepped him, immediately finding his way to the boy’s side and lifting his veil, revealing pale icy grey eyes and light lashes. “Child, do you know where you are?”

The boy looked up and his eyes were uncharacteristically bright and honeyed. Arnalt pat the dust from his head away and revealed a disheveled mass of mahogany curls. A good wash and that hair would gleam. He was clearly in great health, just dirty, scrapped up and scared. He sniffed softly and stared at Arnalt with a pout.

“Where are your parents?

The child shook his head.

“They’re deeper in the jungle?”

Another shake. His eyes watered and he gripped Arnalt’s sleeve.

Pallax gave an audible gasp behind them. The energy was restless even among these hardened men.

“Are they alive?”

It was a blunt but necessary question.

The boy shook his head and Arnalt sighed. A thousand different stories popped in his head, this childs robes had accessories, he was possibly from a wealthy merchant family, overtaken on the road by bandits or some such, or perhaps one of the monsters that occasionally emerge from the Craigh. He was obviously all alone now and worse, had ended up a Kur.

“Alright, come with me.” He unceremoniously picked him up and arranged him piggyback style. The child was 5 or 6, not exactly small but not too big and either way he’d slow them down if he walked.

“Highness! We beg you to reconsider!” Pallax was practically foaming at the mouth now.

“It’s not recommendable to take this child. You should leave him where you found him. It’ll be better for the world, and for… him.” Tyssen urged.

“Says who? Some crap folktale? When was the last time anyone was affected by the curse of the Kur, at most from the few accounts I know the children don’t even live past a few days, if he’s going to perish then the least we can do is offer him a warm bed and some food for his remaining days.”

“Sire! What’s in his hand!” All the guardians went for the hilt of their swords or drew their bow and arrow. The young boy had simply opened his palm near Arnalt’s face.

Arnalt glanced. It was a curled, purplish-red vine with tiny bell-like flowers sprouting around it. Arnalt snorted. “Well, well. How can this child be so lucky if it’s as cursed as you say? Look, Vegnas Spyralia.”

The guardians were indeed shocked by this, but still weary.

“This child might’ve just been my trial. Let this be a lesson for all of us, that compassion is still a noble trait of Azurian, and when I’m made formal prince, this shall be one of my virtues. Have it engraved on my sword’s hilt.” Now Arnalt was in great spirits. This indeed felt like a lucky day! They’d barely braved the dangerous jungle and instead rescued a child with the boon in hand. The child’s hand went limp, but the Vegnas Spyralia was still tightly gripped in his fingers. A grip like that meant this child had learned to hold on to something and desperately strive to never let it go.

A mother’s robe perhaps? He heard the soft snoring behind him and thought it amusing.

A Kurian. When he regained consciousness Arnalt made a note to ask what village he was originally from. Maybe after a bowl of hot soup the child would even tell them how he ended up in such a predicament.

Now, as he entered Marius’s humble quarters near the kitchens, he was still a little mystified that the fragile young child had grown much more past the date of his imminent “death”. If anything, he was like the very medicine they extracted from the jungle, the sturdiest of its kind. Even now, at still such a young age, his potential was palpable. His spiritual force even slightly frightening.

Arnalt observed him silently as Marius ran a few solo drills, unaware his Master had entered.

He unconsciously gripped the hilt of his sword, still engraved with the word “Merced”—Mercy—and cleared his throat.

Marius immediately stopped mid-kick in the air and fell gracelessly on the floor. He clambered up to a formal salute position, but it looked rather amusing with his clothes half off.

“My… My… My Lord if I had known you would grace me with—“ he stammered some more unsure of how to finish and quickly kneeled down again. As if awaiting command.

Arnalt felt his lips quirk slightly. He really could be too amusing. “At ease Marius. I just came to check your vitals.”

“You— you don’t have to…” the boy stood up again but looked down shyly. “A medic can surely—“

“They will send you no medics Marius and you know why.”

“It was an accident.” His voice had gotten smaller and smaller.

“Let me see.” Arnalt extended his hand, expecting Marius to hold out his wrist and allow him to examine.

For the most part his spiritual current seemed fine, but there was a light tremor somewhere near his thumb. Arnalt brought out a small knife from his belt and pricked the pad of that thumb. Immediately, a small stream of tar-like black blood spilled, viscously sliding out until it was replaced by the sight of normal fresh blood again.

“T-thank you, I’m sorry.”

“I thought we went through this, you are to never use Aerial magic, or any magic unless you’ve verified your blood is fully cleansed and your spiritual current is purified.”

“It was fine this morning.”

Arnalt sighed. It had been accumulating like this more frequently. He wondered if this was the real curse of being a Kurian, that they would eventually need to be exsanguinate to keep up with the rate of blood pollution. A very poor way to go indeed.

“We’ll need to drain you more often then. Here.” He passed Marius a strip of jerky. “You’ll need meat to keep up with all this bloodletting. You really should reconsider this martial knight business.”

“This is nothing!” Marius declared.

When he looked so determined Arnalt felt like once again patting his head, ruffling that thick head of hair. Arnalt’s face usually looked stoic and cold, a picture as calm as water without a single ripple. Befitting of the Azurian name. But even though his face remained unchanged, he must’ve let something slip in his expression because the young boy in front of him suddenly stared at him with eyes that practically glittered.

Arnalt frowned. “How dare you!”

Again Marius kneeled. “Forgive me my Lord, I momentarily forgot my place.”

Arnalt felt heavy all of a sudden. “They’re going to bring this case to the council. I don’t know if I can help you.”

“My Lord has already done too much for me. I will gladly accept whatever punishment befits me.”

What would it be this time Arnalt wondered… the water dungeon was grueling but at least it was nearby. Lashes were barbaric, but Marius was so sturdy he healed immediately. Either way Arnalt hated those old methods. He was known to never use them himself. The word on the hilt of his sword wasn’t just for display.

“I’ll try to speak for you, it really seems to just be this blood issue, but I make no guarantees.”

“My Lord is merciful.”

Arnalt thought the words sounded rather odd and… fond. He cleared his throat once more.

“Stand. Go eat. I’ll have them send over rice.”

“I should starve in penance.”

“Knowing the council. You just might.”

Just then a young girl entered, wearing a grey simple tunic. She bowed lightly. “My Lord Arnalt, your presence is requested in the council room.”

“Thank you Pagytha. Be sure to have rice sent here while I’m gone.”

“I... I can’t do that My Lord.”

Arnalt froze mid-step. He turned towards her, his eyes bloodless and cold. But this gaze wasn’t really directed towards her, but to the dark thought that overcame him.

“That was a direct order from your Prince. What is the meaning of this?”

“The King has ordered his... the creature’s exile. By royal decree it cannot be undone. Forgive me my Lord, I am only authorized to speak until this point.”

Arnalt’s shock was the first ripple on his face, quickly replaced by anger. ‘Can you at least tell me to where the hell exactly he’s been exiled?’ He instantly felt bad for his tone, gripping the hilt of his sword once more to calm down and when he was sufficiently less altered, he at last spoke up.

“How long?”

“A year, sire.”

“Where?”

“The Winterlands.”

It was just as he’d feared.

1 note · View note

winterisakillerwrites · 5 years ago

Text

Brave Face - Part Two

Title: Brave Face

One Shot: 2/3

Character: Tom Hiddleston/OFC

Genre: Angst

Rating: M

Summary: A wedding is one of the happiest days of one’s life. It is the beginning of the future and for Amelia Evans this was no different. Tom HIddleston stood watching her as she walked down the aisle while considering every choice that had brought him here. For better or worse, his life was fundamentally changed.

Authors Notes/Warnings: So full disclosure this story came about completely by accident. I had this vague idea in my head and it probably would have stayed that way had I not been talking to @redfoxwritesstuff and said “So I have this idea…”. This literally grew from a ‘huh, this should be straight forward’ to ‘holy fuck what have I gotten myself into?!’. All in all this is a 13,000 word one shot that has been split into three parts to make for easier posting/reading. Hope you all enjoy.

Tom couldn’t say for sure how long he sat on the bed, hands cradling his head, his breathing coming in soft, swallow pants; it felt like hours and like no time at all. The abrupt rap of knuckles on the door slowly brought him back around to himself. Mechanically, he pulled himself to his feet and shuffled towards the door. He unlocked and pulled it open, eyes blinking at the bright light flooding in from the hall. He found Luke standing there, exasperation painting his features.

“I’ve been calling for the last…” His voice trailed off as he looked past Tom and into the room, his eyes widening. “Tom…What the fuck happened?”

“She’s really gone.” The words fell from Tom’s lips in a broken whisper. “She isn’t coming back.”

Luke blinked at him in confusion for several moments before a pitied understanding spread across his face and shook his head. “No, Tom. I really don’t think that she is.” He brought a comforting hand down onto Tom’s shoulder. They stood silently for several moments before Luke spoke once more. “You have a meeting in half an hour…” Luke trailed off as he caught the look of bleary confusion on Tom’s worn face. He sighed and elaborated, “With the producers regarding your latest auction…would you like to postpone it? I can make a few phone calls…”

Tom’s head shot up and he vehemently shook his head. “No. No, I can’t. Absolutely not…This is important. If I put it off now I’ve as good as lost the role…No…” He took a deep breath, gathering himself. “No. Give me five minutes and we can go.” He didn’t wait for Luke’s response before turning back into the room and letting the door swing shut behind him.

Five minutes later, cleanly shaven and as respectable as he could make himself, Tom followed Luke down into the hotel’s lobby and into a waiting cab. He was a bundle of nerves, his leg bouncing involuntarily as the cab meandered its way through the early afternoon traffic.

It had taken nearly the entire journey for Tom to gain hold of himself. To calm his frayed nerves and slip back into the confident and controlled professional he needed to be. But by the time he had entered the conference room, Luke and his US agent, David, at his side, and shook each of the producers’ hands, it was as though nothing whatsoever had happened. He was charming and engaging, a consummate professional by all standards. They chatted amicably and while nothing had been set in stone, the producers seemed keen to have him on board and for that he was exceedingly grateful. With a bright smile and a firm handshake, Tom thanked them for their time and the opportunity to discuss the roll before following Luke and David from of the room.

The ride back to the hotel was spent in silence; Tom staring out of the window at passing traffic, Luke sorting through emails while never quite taking his eyes off of his friend’s tense form. As soon as they’d pulled in front of the lobby, Tom had excused himself and headed straight for the hotel bar. He didn’t care that it was only just late afternoon and by all means far too early. He was in desperate need of a drink.

Three whiskeys later, Tom was feeling little pain. The smiles that he’d been forcing all day had slowly started to come easier and he’d found he’d been able to simply shut the quiet, defeated voice that plagued his mind throughout the day off. It was wonderful. He chatted openly with the people surrounding him; laughing and joking, sharing stories. Forgetting.

At one point he found himself distracted by a flirty, feminine laugh tickled his ear, pulling at his attention as she pulled lightly at his arm. He turned to find a petite blonde watching him through lidded eyes. She was absolutely gorgeous; thin frame wrapped in a well-fitting navy dress, hair flowing over her tanned shoulder, eyes bright and attentive. He wasted no time in returning her smile and refilling her drink. She whispered her name into his ear and he’d managed to forget it as soon as she’d spoken the last syllable. It didn’t matter anyway, he didn’t need to know her name to know just what it was she was offering or to allow himself to take it.

They finished their drinks quickly, exchanging knowing touches and heated looks. The tension burned between them. There was no question where this was headed. She leaned over and whispered a number into his ear. It took several moments for its meaning to become clear in his clouded mind. Her room number. He nodded and placed his glass neatly onto the bar.

Her hand fully ensconced in his, Tom pulled her from the bar and quietly towards the elevators. His eyes darted around automatically, making sure the path was clear. No one seemed to be paying him any mind and he felt a part of him relax. The last thing he wanted, or honestly needed, was for another set of photographs of him to be taken and released. Luke would flay him alive.

As the elevator doors slipped silently shut, he pulled her fully against him, his lips trailing the heated path from her earlobe across her neck and finally to her mouth. She moaned at his touch and he reveled in the sense of power it called forth in him. She wanted him and by god it felt amazing. They stumbled from the elevator as the doors opened and quickly down the empty hall into her room. A trail of clothing followed them from the door towards the large bed.

Their hands wandered, grabbing and caressing as they went. He had forced himself to pause enough to ensure they had protection; he had far too much at stake to risk everything for the sake of pleasure. She’d smiled and pulled a foil packet from the table near the bed handing it to him with a wink. It didn’t take long for him to lose himself in sensation; to shudder at the feel of her hands on his length, to lose himself in the warmth of her body. He chased pleasure through her and felt her do the same. It was simple and messy and overwhelming and he gave himself willingly to it.

He collapsed onto his back, panting as his lungs fought to obtain the oxygen they so desperately needed. He could feel her warm body pressed against his, her hair tickling his shoulder and for just a moment if he squinted just right, he could pretend she was someone else. His heart lurched at the thought and he quickly shoved it away. No. He steadfast refused to even entertain that idea. Not here, not like this. Not now.

When he was certain that she was asleep, Tom untangled himself from the bed clothes and quickly dressed. He didn’t bother leaving a note or his number. This wasn’t that kind of arrangement. He made his way silently back to the elevator and finally into his own room. It had been straightened sometime in the several hours since he’d left it, owing to Luke no doubt. On his pillow he found a new mobile with a note attached. ‘Try not to break this one.’

He shook his head with a sigh, moving to place the phone onto the dresser, and tossed the note aside. Stripping himself once more he padded into the bathroom and into the shower. Turning the water as hot as he could stand, he washed himself without active thought. He lingered briefly in the soothing heat, enjoying the feel of the beating water on his back, the way he helped to ease the tightness in his shoulders and the tension in his neck. He’d stay there forever if he could. Reaching out he turned off the taps and slowly climbed out into the chilled air of the bathroom. He grabbed a towel from the rack and wrapped it loosely around his hips, heading back into the main room and letting himself collapse on the bed in hopes of catching whatever feeble amount of sleep he was able.

The next several months sped by in much the same way. During the days and evenings, Tom played his role well; he attended events, smiled and chatted with everyone he’d met, was charming and polite without fail. He prepared for his latest roles and made sure to keep in touch with his family as often as he could. Things, however, remained frosty between Emma and himself but he had hope as time passed the chilliness between them would thaw.

At night, however, he was scarcely, if ever, alone. The flings rarely lasted longer than a fortnight and they were always discrete. Never at his hotel or his home and never where an inopportune photograph could be captured and sold or, at least, not easily so. He never made any of the women he bedded promises and he never asked for more than the simple sharing of their bodies. It was infinitely easier that way; no expectations, no demands, no promises. Especially with the whirlwind his life had become, and, in all likelihood, looked to remain. There simply wasn’t time for anything more…And honestly he hadn’t wanted anything beyond a few passionate nights. Far, far easier to keep things this way.

If Luke had any objections to Tom’s behavior, he played those cards close to his chest. He was well aware of what was going on, Tom was certain of it, but said nothing. There were times, though, when Tom was sure he could see a hint of disappointment and disapproval in his publicist’s eyes. But still Luke never said a word. Which, as far as Tom was concerned, was all for the best. As long as his indiscretions remained out of the papers Luke had little grounds in which to give him grief. He was an adult, and an unattached one at that, his choice in bed partners was his own. He was discreet and he was careful. Never without protection and never where he could be caught. He’d learned that lesson far too well.

And he was happy, for the most part. He was able to live a life that most people never could; he traveled the world, had the chance to meet and interact with people he’d admired and respected, got to do what he loved and not have to worry where his next meal would come from. He was lucky and he knew it. Things weren’t perfect but they were working, it was all he could ask for.

By late the following September, Tom found himself back home without out the looming threat of months of living out of suitcases and hotel rooms. Rehearsals for Coriolanus were due to begin in the coming month and he was overjoyed to be able to sink his teeth into such a role, to explore this character and walk around in his skin, especially if meant being able to sleep in his own bed.

It was to be a small production in the West End and the actors he was set to work with were among some of the best in the field. He was honored and nervous and overjoyed all at once. It had been far too long since he’d been on stage, he’d missed it. He’d loved the adventure of constantly moving but months and months on end of it had left him longing for a small bit of stability. For a moment to catch his breath, metaphorically, before diving headlong into the chaos once more. And when this role had fallen into his lap, he’d grasped it with both hands and hadn’t looked back. There wouldn’t be another opportunity to do this.

He’d spent the last free evening before rehearsals were set to start out in SoHo with friends. He’d not had the chance to do something like this with these people in far too long. Laughter had filled most of the night as he sat trading stories and trying to catch up with all he’d missed while he’d been away. He’d stumbled over his shoe lace as they’d started their migration towards the next pub and called out for them to carry on while he stopped to tie it.

Tying one’s shoe became infinitely more difficult when one was well on their way to being completely and thoroughly pissed. Tom found himself muttering curses as the laces stubbornly refused to comply with his wishes. It had taken far longer than it should have to tie the blasted things than he’d bargained for and he’d started after his friends, still cursing, when something caught his eye. He turned, without thinking, towards the window of the small Italian restaurant he’d stopped beside and froze.

It had been well over a year since he’d seen her and now suddenly there she was. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a single plait that rested on her shoulder, her dress was dark green and wrapped around her figure in the most alluring way, a warm smile lit her features as she walked hand in hand beside a tall dark haired man that Tom didn’t recognize. She looked happier than he’d seen in her in ages and it felt as though his heart had shattered in his chest. She’d moved on. Of course she had; he’d known that someday it would happen. How could it not? But he hadn’t expected it to sting quite this much.

He turned on his heel and stumbled off in the direction he hoped was towards the next pub he and his friends had collectively agreed on. He couldn’t think, could barely breathe. Why here, why now? He was fine. He’d been fine…And now…Tom shook his head, trying desperately to clear his thoughts. It took what felt like forever for him to find what he was certain was the correct pub. And upon doing so, he pushed through the crowded door, and scanned the room for a familiar face. No one. He searched again to make certain. Not a single one. Just fucking great.

Tom made his way towards the bar and dropped onto the nearest open stool. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Amy’s face flashed before him; her eyes bright and smile wide. The way she used to always look at him…The way he saw her look at the man tonight. Bile rose in his throat and he fought the urge to scream in frustration. Dammit, why now? He’d been fine!

He hadn’t been seated long before he felt the warmth of a hand resting on his shoulder.

“Hello handsome,” a voice rich as honey whispered in his ear, sending a spasm of shivers down his spine. Tom turned, his eyes settling on the tall form of a curvy red-head. It was a touch too dark for him to make out the color of her eyes with any degree of certainty but he could clearly see the desire in them.

“Well hello,” he practically purred in response. He flashed his best smile, the one he knew would seal almost any deal. The one he’d used on every woman that’s managed to catch his eye.

“Anna,” she stated, her eyes locked on his in anticipation, a manicured eyebrow lifted in questioning response.

“Tom,” he answered, his own brow raising. “Now, Anna, may I buy you a drink?”

She laughed and nodded enthusiastically before leaning over to whisper her drink of choice in his ear, her lips brushing against his skin. He smiled at her once more, knowing it wouldn’t take much to move this flirtation along. She was clearly eager and more than willing. He turned back to the bar, waving to catch the attention of the barkeep.

Several drinks later found them ensconced in a darkened corner, his hands resting dangerously low on her hips. He pulled her towards him, pressing his lips fully against hers. She took no time deepening the kiss, grinding herself into his pelvis. He groaned against her lips as he felt his body respond. This was what he’d needed. And desperately.

Tom let her lead him out of the pub, both of them shivering slightly in the suddenly chilled air. He wasn’t sure which of them hailed the cab but he doesn’t hesitate to climb inside. He half listened as she rattled off her address, not much caring exactly where she took him as long as the night ended with her beneath him, and him inside of her.

Her flat was situated on the end of a relatively quiet street. The stairs that lead into the building were half hidden in shadow and she fumbled with the key several times before finally getting the lock open. They stumbled inside, his hands immediately landing on her hips to pull her body against his. His fingers danced beneath the hem of her short blue dress and made quick work of divesting her of it. Her hands, in turn, moved with just as much speed shedding him of his shirt and trousers. They stumbled between heated kiss towards the back of the flat and into her cramped bedroom.

Kicking off their remaining bits of clothing, Tom pulled her onto the bed situating himself above her heated form. She looked up at him through lowered lashes, raising her hips to press into his. His lips crashed against hers, pulling her tightly to him as he settled between her spread thighs. A quick jerk of his hips and he’s seated deeply inside of her. He felt the rush of air from her lungs hot against his cheek. Their rhythm is erratic and he knew it wouldn’t take long to push himself over the edge. His let his hand snake between them to work her towards her release as quickly as possible. Their moans filled the small room mingled with the frantic sound of skin against skin. A mumbled curse was his only warning before his rhythm faltered. He felt her clamp tightly around him as he pumped once. Twice. Three times before stilling.

Wordlessly, he rolled off of her and onto his back. An all too familiar unease plagued him, one that should have burned away in the wake of release, and he couldn’t understand why. Why hadn’t this worked? This had always, always, worked. Beside him, Tom felt the mattress shift. He turned his head to see her roll up to sit on the edge of the bed. His eyebrow rose in silent question. She nodded down the hall. “Bathroom. This was nice but I’d rather not completely ruin my sheets.” With that she stood and padded out of the room.

Shit, he thought, realizing that he had his own matters to attend to. Tom rolled himself over until he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Mindlessly, he reached down, preparing to pull of the used…Panic lanced through him. No. No. No. No. Please God, no. He looked down again, praying he’d been mistaken, but there was still nothing there but his own skin. God, he was going to be sick.

It took moments to scramble around the room, grabbing his pants and shirt. He tugged them on and stumbled into the hallway in search of his jeans. He fought the urge to vomit, his mind screaming that he had been stupid. So very, very stupid. He heard her voice call down the hallway, “Where are you going?”

He spun in his heel to face her. “We didn’t use…Why did you let us…Why didn’t you stop me?” The question fell from his lips without thought. He watched her face flitted through a mired of emotions.

She shrugged, “it’s not that big of a deal. I’m on the shot if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

Tom sputtered in disbelief. “Are you serious? Is that what I’m…?” His voice trailed off, incomprehension spread across his features. He took a deep breath and snapped, “that right now is the very least of my worries.” Without another word, he pulled on his jeans and shoved his feet into his boots and left.

He lost his battle with his nerves halfway down the stairs of her building and bent over the railing, vomiting onto the darkened sidewalk. Coughing and dry heaving, Tom fought to gain control of himself. It took several minutes for the world to cease tilting violently from side to side and once it had, he righted himself and continued on his path. He walked for what felt like hours before finding and waving down a passing black cab.

“Where to?”

Tom rattled off the address without thought and it wasn’t until the cab had rolled to a stop that he realized just where he was. He paid his fare and stepped out into the night. With a quick look upwards at the light shining through the upper story window, Tom forced himself to take a deep breath, before climbing the stairs and leaning on the doorbell.

With a shuddering force the front door swung inwards revealing a red faced and angry Luke clad in checked pajama bottoms and a dark t-shirt. “Just what the fucking hell do you think you’re playing at? Do you have any idea what fucking time it…?” his voice trailed off mid-tirade as his eyes settled on Tom’s disheveled and shaking form. “Tom?” He breathed in confusion. “What’s…?”

Tom swallowed thickly, running his hands through his hair and blinking back tears. “I fucked up, Luke. I think I fucked up really, really badly this time.”

#Tom Hiddleston #Tom Hiddleston RPF #Tom Hiddleston x oc #Tom Hiddleston x ofc #Tom Hiddleston x original character #tom hiddleston x original female character #Brave Face

3 notes · View notes

winterisakiller · 5 years ago

Text

Brave Face - Part Two

Title: Brave Face

One Shot: 2/3

Character: Tom Hiddleston/OFC

Genre: Angst

Rating: M

Tag List: @tinchentitri @theheartofpenelope @noplacelikehome77 @blacksuitofdoom @nonsensicalobsessions @messy-insomniac-bookgirl

if you want on the tag list let me know.

Previous Part

“I’ve been calling for the last...” His voice trailed off as he looked past Tom and into the room, his eyes widening. “Tom…What the fuck happened?”

“She’s really gone.” The words fell from Tom’s lips in a broken whisper. “She isn’t coming back.”

Luke blinked at him in confusion for several moments before a pitied understanding spread across his face and shook his head. “No, Tom. I really don’t think that she is.” He brought a comforting hand down onto Tom’s shoulder. They stood silently for several moments before Luke spoke once more. “You have a meeting in half an hour…” Luke trailed off as he caught the look of bleary confusion on Tom’s worn face. He sighed and elaborated, “With the producers regarding your latest auction...would you like to postpone it? I can make a few phone calls...”

Tom’s head shot up and he vehemently shook his head. “No. No, I can’t. Absolutely not...This is important. If I put it off now I’ve as good as lost the role…No…” He took a deep breath, gathering himself. “No. Give me five minutes and we can go.” He didn’t wait for Luke’s response before turning back into the room and letting the door swing shut behind him.

He hadn’t been seated long before he felt the warmth of a hand resting on his shoulder.

“Well hello,” he practically purred in response. He flashed his best smile, the one he knew would seal almost any deal. The one he’d used on every woman that’s managed to catch his eye.

“Anna,” she stated, her eyes locked on his in anticipation, a manicured eyebrow lifted in questioning response.

“Tom,” he answered, his own brow raising. “Now, Anna, may I buy you a drink?”

She shrugged, “it’s not that big of a deal. I’m on the shot if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

“Where to?”

Tom swallowed thickly, running his hands through his hair and blinking back tears. “I fucked up, Luke. I think I fucked up really, really badly this time.”

Next Part

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston x oc #tom hiddleston x original female character #tom hiddleston x original character #tom hiddleston rpf #Brave Face #fanfic

42 notes · View notes

thepropertylovers · 6 years ago

Text

Feature Friday with Benjamin Katz

Happy Friday! On this week’s Feature Friday, Benjamin talks about what it was like growing up in a very orthodox Jewish community. He discusses how he felt constantly having to hide his sexuality, what he would say to those who believe homosexuality is a sin, and how free he feels today now that he can finally be his true self. His words really moved us, and we found ourselves inspired multiple times while getting to know him, taking in every word. We wanted more! Maybe he should write a book? Take a look below to see what we mean and to learn about Benjamin’s story…

Where are you from? I am from Long Island, New York.

Where do you live? I still currently live on Long Island but attend college in Pennsylvania.

Instagram handle? My Instagram handle is benj_katz

Age: I am 19 years old.

On traveling to South Africa: Traveling is one of my favorite things to do. I must say that South Africa was probably the coolest place I’ve ever been to so far. While the flight is not easy, it was definitely worth it. Aside from the safari that I went on, which was so incredibly special, Cape Town was a different experience in of itself. The beach is breathtaking, the food is delicious, and the people are so kind. My experience in South Africa was everything that a vacation should be. I highly recommend making it out there if you can!

On growing up in an orthodox Jewish community: Before I begin to explain my experience growing up in a modern orthodox Jewish community, it is important for me to disclose that my experience is not indicative of Judaism as a whole. Like all religions, there are sects that follow a very rigid, conservative, set of values. The community I grew up in was exactly that. On that note, growing up in my community was similar to seeing how long you can hold your breath for. Sure, there were aspects that were nice. Every weekend was Shabbat, and the whole family gathered around the table for dinner. We would walk to temple for services, at which my friends and I would run around and play handball, or something to that extent. However, the atmosphere was heavy, and saturated with ignorance. From a very young age I was told to pray from the Siddur (which means bible in Hebrew), how to act, be dressed, and speak. There was little to no room for individuality. Observance of all Jewish holidays and events were a must. If you did not observe, you were looked down upon. If there was any facet of your life that was seen as ‘too secular’ then you were shunned, gossiped about, and the entire town would not let you live it down. So, while the community I grew up in did have positive aspects, the overarching notion was that of unacceptance. You had to conform.

“…growing up in my community was similar to seeing how long you can hold your breath for.”

On going to a Jewish school: Gosh, to this day I don’t know why I chose that. My parents even encouraged me to transfer to a public school after we left my town, but I insisted that I stay. I like to look at things in two different perspectives. On one hand I do think that attending my modern orthodox private school instilled important values, secular and religious. However, on the other hand, I do strongly believe I was continually pushed to conform. I know of only three people, in my school’s entire history, that came out as queer. The first one was openly bullied, and almost kicked out of the school because of it. He was about 6 years before my time at my school. The second person was only a year ahead of me, and he came out just before his senior graduation. He was able to get out quick enough, as to not suffer any consequences. Then, the third person was a girl a year behind me. She came out and added her own individuality to her forced conformity. It was amazing. I was so inspired by her. However, on the other side of things, people I used to call my friends, bashed them. Just for being themselves. It was a constant battle in my school. Kids just did not mind their own business. It was such a different way of life back then. There is one situation in particular that sticks out to me when recounting my experience as a closeted queer man in my high school. There was an app called Whisper. I don’t know if it is still popular. However, it was in my school for a point in time. One kid I was friends with, who was also queer, used it to ask how he should come out to his best friend. For those who don’t know, Whisper allows people to anonymously post questions to your high school page. He told me, and showed me proof, not that I needed to see any, that people were blowing up his phone asking who he was. They were dying to know just who this queer kid could be. Long story short, they found out. One of them posed as another queer closeted guy and found out who he was. They then outed him to the entire school and he was the new talking point for everyone. That didn’t stop until the summer came. It was the winter when this happened. This kind of ridicule swept the school like a plague, and every time I heard about it, my heart sank, worrying that I could be next.

On his religious beliefs today: I am not religious anymore. I grew up in a modern orthodox household, but around middle school I stopped observing modern orthodoxy along with my immediate family. Since then, I’ve been more traditional. The appropriate term for my level of observance is known as conservative Judaism.

On people who say homosexuality is a sin: I’ve experienced this kind of rhetoric many times, both inside and outside of the classroom. At first, I was never sure how to approach it, and that partially was because a part of me believed it was a sin. I always used to think I was broken somehow. However, I’ve grown since then, and to anybody who says that being myself is a sin, well, I feel sorry for them. In the moment I would question them. Maybe it’s because of their upbringing, which because of what I witnessed firsthand, I can’t blame, but I definitely would not pursue a conversation with somebody who can’t accept people different from themselves. If there is one thing I’ve learned from my time dealing with religious individuals, who are stubborn in their beliefs, it is to pick your battles, because you definitely cannot win them all.

On coming out: I came out a year ago, so 18 years old. Until I arrived on my college campus, I had believed that no matter where I went, I would not be accepted. It wasn’t even until a few months into my college career that I realized being queer, being myself, was okay, and treated normally, at least on my college campus. My best friend had known about me since high school, I couldn’t keep myself from telling him. However, when I arrived at college, I made some incredible friends. I was in an environment unlike my high school. There was genuine acceptance. It’s quite funny actually. At first, I couldn’t believe it, I was in denial. My good friend kept telling me, “dude no one cares here, seriously.” No matter how many times I heard that from him, I could not accept it. I was stuck in the mentality that everyone was out to get me. Coming out was known to be social suicide at my last school. Why would this one be any different? I came to realize that my friend was right. I needed to be myself, and the more I thought about staying closeted, the more it started to chip away at my well-being. So, I took that incredibly anxiety riddled step of not caring. I say it like this because I did not come out in the way most people do. I didn’t post about it on social media, nor did I tell the world. I just simply let go. I stopped caring, and when/if people asked me about my sexual orientation, I stopped lying. I stopped giving excuses for why I was texting a boy I thought was cute. I stopped killing myself over if I was ‘straight enough’ or not. I just let it all go. To my surprise, it went extremely well. Of course, there were a few instances of push back, but nothing major. I was genuinely surprised at how well my friends and family took it. The most common response I got was “okay that’s cool.” Since then, I have been the happiest I’ve ever been.

“I learned a lot about myself, and part of me thinks that’s because until I came out, I didn’t really know who I was in the first place. My life revolved around making sure my secret didn’t get out. However, after I was out, my life became about me.”

On making his life about him: I learned a lot about myself, and part of me thinks that’s because until I came out, I didn’t really know who I was in the first place. My life revolved around making sure my secret didn’t get out. However, after I was out, my life became about me. Which felt completely unnatural, but because I was finally living in my own skin, and not the façade I had put up, I learned so much about myself. I obtained a newfound passion for the outdoors. I’m currently the Vice President of the outdoors club at my college and attend all kinds of weekly trips. There’s just something about that breath of fresh air that gets me, whether it be down rapids, or on the peak of a valley, I can’t get enough. I also found myself smiling more. I know this sounds so cliché, but finally being able to walk around in your own skin does something miraculous to the soul. I was in a constant state of worry, looking over my shoulder, and all of sudden I wasn’t. It takes courage to be yourself, and that was something I also learned about myself. I was never brave as a kid. I grew up being the cautious one, the one who never wanted to go out on an adventure, but now, I crave adventure. I started to seek out those adventures, those new friends, the unknown. Coming out feels a lot more rewarding then most people think.

On his advice to those struggling to come out: My biggest piece of advice is that your story is for you and you only. It is your information to share and should be on your own grounds and no one else’s. Never let anyone strip you of your identity. Don’t let anyone else tell you who you are, or that your undeserving in any shape or form. No matter what you’re going through, always know that there are other people who have been there, and we are with you every step of the way!

On his unfinished bucket list: I love the water and beaches, I could lay out on one all day. With that being said, I’ve always wanted to go to Catalina Island off the coast of California.

On his biggest inspiration: I honestly don’t have one particular person that I look up to as an inspiration. There are so many strong and brave people that I am inspired by. I am inspired by all the fearless souls who stand up for what is right. Every single day I aspire to be like them.

6 notes · View notes

iliketowrite1996 · 6 years ago

Text

Burn for Burn part 1- Challenge Day

THIS IS AFTER THE EVENTS OF ‘‘SPACES AND SECRETS’‘ Note- I imagine Adanya wearing something similar to what the Dora Milaje wear during the challenge day scene.

Note- SO, I wanted to introduce some new characters that will be fleshed out in later chapters. I also have never written a fight scene, so I did my best.

Note- I uses a translation machine, so if something is wrong, PLEASE let me know.

Warning- mentions of violence, nothing too graphic. Mentions of insecurity and nerves.

The roar of the crowd chanting is the only thing that she hears outside of the quinjet. Inside of the quninet, the only sound that can be heard is the sound of her breathing, deep breaths to calm her nerves that have her shaking from her head to her toes.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

This is a day that Adanya, the next ruler of Wakanda, has been waiting for her whole entire life. Or, rather, it’s the day that her baba has been preparing her for, her whole entire life.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

There have been over a thousand hours logged into training her for this moment.

She's read the books,attended the lessons, attended the events. Adanya knows how to behave,the behavior that is expected of her lines up with everything that her baba has been drilling into her head for the last twenty-one years.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

There if a fine layer of nerves sweat coating her skin, and it matches the fine layer of insecurity bubbling inside of her belly.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

‘’You are brave,’’ she whispers to herself, closing her eyes and clutching the sphere and the shield tighter in her hands, ‘’You are smart. You are strong. You are kind. You are beautiful.’’

She whispers these words to herself. The same words that her baba has repeated to her just about every day since she was three years-old. For eighteen years, he has been promoting self-confidence in her. T’Challa has always allowed her to make her own decisions, allowed her to be the one who decides her own life path.

Exactly one year ago, he’d sat her down and asked her if she was sure that she wanted to be queen.

‘’With all due respect, baba… as amazing as Wakanda is, I do see some areas where we are in need of improvement. I believe that I have the ability to help change those. Along with the help of my council, of course,’’ she’d beamed at him.

That was exactly one year ago today.

Adanya tries to channel that confidence, to remember that she is a woman with a plan, with a heart that loves Wakanda more than anything else.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

‘’Princess. Are you ready,’’ a member of the Dora Milaje, Kya,questions her.

‘’Yes,’’ Adanya opens her eyes the roar of the crowd seeming to get louder and louder as she does so.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

The quinjet door opens and she steps forward, out into the water and facing the crowd that has gathered for challenge day.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

She looks up to the crowd and sees hundreds of people, dressed in bright clothing. She sees her mother, and her brothers and sisters. Ado is watching on with a proud look, as is Abioye. Nyala, Abimbola, and four-year-old Afia are beaming with pride. Her mother has tears in her eyes, knowing that this day would soon come.

Adanaya notices Auntie Shuri and Grandma Ramonda, and her heart could burst with the joy and the love that she feels radiating off of eight of the nine people who love her more than anything.

The ninth person is her baba, the one that she must battle today.

‘’I, Aren, grandson of Zuri,’’ the young man begins, ‘’Present to you, Adanya Udaku. Princess of Wakanda.’’

The roaring and cheering and chanting of the crowd silences as Adanya kneels. She does the Wakanda salute as she rises, watching it be reciprocated by the citizens.

‘’I also present to you, The king of Wakanda, king T’Challa. The Black Panther.’’

She looks over to see her baba, and Adanya has to hide the smile that is threatening to break free at the man standing to the side of her.

He is smart, he is strong, he is brave. He is everything that she hopes to become as the next ruler of Wakanda, as the next Black Panther.

Her dad kneels as well, before sending her a small smile and returning to his stoic facial expression.

‘’The king will now have the strength of the Black Panther stripped away.’’

She watches as her baba has the strength stipped away as he swallows the heart-shaped herb. He rises moments later, looking every bit of a king as she knows he is.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

‘’Victory,’’ Aren continues, ‘’In ritual combat comes by yield or death. If any tribe would like to put forth a warrior, I now offer you the opportunity to do so, A path to the throne.’’

Each tribe shouts their cry before denying the chance to battle for the throne.

‘’The Merchant tribe, will not challenge today,’’ Chane's dad claims as he looks on.

‘’The Border tribe will not challenge today,’’ Bakari agrees, taking the role that his uncle once would have possessed.

‘’The River tribe will not challenge today,’’ Kamaria, Nakia’s youngest sister, exclaims.

‘’The Jabari tribe,’’ M’Baku begins, ‘’Will not challenge today.’’

‘’The Mining Tribe will not challenge today,’’ Ife’s dad states.

She doesn't miss the grin and wink that Jelani, M'Baku;s son and her best friend, give her after he is finished.

‘’Is there any member of royal blood who wishes to challenge either our king or our princess for the throne?’’

Everyone is silent, a stark contrast from the surprising battle for the throne that took place on T’Challa’s challenge day.

The beating of the drums ensue as Aren places one Black Panther mask on T’Challa, and Kya places one on her.

‘’Let the challenge begin,’’ Aren proclaims, hitting his staff against the ground twice.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

T’Challa advances towards his daughter, trusting the fact that she has been trained well for this day. He and Okoye spent a lot of time sparring with her and teaching her how to battle. He remembers she used to have trouble staying focussed on the matter at hand, but she has improved. She now knows him well enough to calculate some of his moves before he does them. T’Challa taught her everything that she knows.

But not everything that he knows.

He swings his own staff at her as Adanya blocks the blow of the wooden instrument with ehr shield, moving to strike back.

Blow by blow, she deflects hi , even landing in a couple of hits and sayings of her own.

The crows is cheering and she is fully aware of it. T’Challa is definitely not going easy on her, letting her show her full ability. She’s good, and he knows it. In fact, she is a perfect match for him in this area, as he has not been challenged like this since his fight with…

Not now. He’s not going to think of that now.

Her knowledge in combat is impressive, and she is definitely holding her own. SHe has that same look of determination her face that her mother gets, and despite the bruises and blood, she’s not giving up.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

So it’s a shock to everyone when one blow lands her on the ground, unable to breathe and struggling to take in air.

T’Challa’s resolve waivers as he watches her fight to stand.

After all, she may the princess and a warrior, but this is still his daughter.

She’s trying to force herself to her knees so that hse can stand, but it requires strength that she can not quite seem to muster up.

‘’Yield, Adanya. You have to yield,’’ T’Challa says quietly, so that no one can hear him.

She knows that she is meant to be queen. Adanya wants to make an actual difference, to unite Wakanda with the rest of the world eve more than her baba has. To be even half of the ruler that he is. Even with so many personal moments inside of the walls of the palace, he kept his cool as king. He rules fairly. Adanya knows that she can do that as well.

Perhaps, though, now is not the time.

So she yields. She yields and her baba helps her stand, pulling her into his arms and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

‘’It is quite alright. The throne will be here when you are ready.’’

She ponders those words later in the night, when she is sitting in the palace garden, looking down at the water of the pond as it reflects the millions of stars shining above her.

‘’My princess, how are you doing?’’

Adanya looks up to see T'Challa striding towards her, a worried expression etched into his features.

‘’I am alright, baba,’’ she nods, looking back to the water and skimming her hand along the surface.

The tear sting he reyes as he holds them back. It is ironic, because these tears of disappointment hurt far more than the wound that she obtained today.

‘’Itomba,’’ T’Challa signs, bringing his daughter's face to face him so that he can look at her, ‘’Ndiqhayiya.’’

He is proud?

‘’Ngoba?’’

‘’Why? Because you have done everything I told you to do. You remind focus. You matched me hit for hit, blow for blow. You were strong and toy were courageous. But, most importantly, you yielded.’’

‘’Baba,’’ she groans in disappointment.

‘’That means that you recognized what worked best for you, for your safety, and for your health. I have taught you well, as has your mother. She is every bit as proud of you as I am, Adanya. Just worried.’’

‘’I felt like I had disappointed you,’’ she reveals, blinking back the moisture in her eyes, ‘’I never want to do that. I just realized that maybe I am not ready to be queen. Not just yet. Wakanda deserves the best.’’

‘’Wakanda does deserve the best. And this country will find the best in you. I learned from my baba’s mistake, you will learn from mine,’’ he kisses her hairline, ‘’Ndiyakuthanda.’’

‘’I love you, too, baba.’’

He reaches into the bag that she hadn’t noticed he’d brought with him and produces something silver.

An exact replica of the necklace that he is wearing now.

‘’Your Auntie Shuri has been designing this for you since the day that you were born,’’ T’Challa places it around his daughter's neck, ‘’Fit for a warrior, fit for a queen.’’

‘’But baba, I-’’

‘’Will need it soon. You will be queen, soon,A danya. I have a feeling that you are more ready than you think you are,’’ he tells her, ‘’When that day comes, we will be ready.’’

Adanya allows herself to be pulled into another hug then, reveling in the warm embrace of ehr baba, something that has always comforted her ever since the time that she was a baby, the embrace that is full of love and pride.

She revels in the fact that her baba believes in her.

And, for now, that is good enough.

You watch out of the palace window that leads to the garden as T'Challa escorts your baby girl back to you, her eyes trained on the ground before meeting yours.

She’s grown so much in the last twenty-one years. She's a remarkable young woman, someone who is so determined that it often leaves you in awe. She has the biggest heart, and she is similar to both you and her baba in that way. She has an eye for politics, a mind for making things better. It’s way you are not worried about her.

You tell eh this as he brings you into a hug and you press a kiss to her weary face.

‘’I love you, Adanya. Do not worry, You will make an excellent queen when the time's right for you.’’

You know quite a bit about timing. TIming had to play a part in your marriage to T’Challa, in the way that you helped him rule the country and in the way that you handled messes in your personal lives. It was all about timing, how and when you reacted. It’s a lesson that took years for you two to learn, and now Adanya must do the same.

She thanks you, bids to you and her baba a good night, and heads off to bed.

‘’Ah, my queen,’’ T’Challa kisses your hand, ‘’What are you doing up?’’

‘’I could not sleep. I’ve been nauseated,’’ you grimace.

He raises an eyebrow, knowing what tends to be the source of your nausea in most cases.

‘’Stop that,’’ you laugh, ‘’It is not for that reason.’’

He places a hand on your stomach, chuckling as well,’’Can you blame me?’’

‘’I can,’’ you jest, ‘’I don’t, but I could. Anyway, I am not pregnant. I am sure of it. I believe that we stated that six children are enough, eh?’’

‘’I believe so,’’ admit, ‘’Although,w e did say that five children was enough. Then Afia was born.’’

You laugh then, throwing your head back and giving him the sound he loves more than almost anything else in the world.

‘’Come on, my love,’’ he pulls you in and lifts you up, carrying you bridal style, ‘’Let’s retire to our suite.’’

‘’Oh?’’

‘’Mhm,’’ he presses a kiss to your lips, and you let yourself fall deeper and deeper in love with this man, from the graying hair on his head to the wedding band made of vibranium on his finger.

The only thing that’s stronger than vibranium is his love.

At the moment, you’re perfectly happy with that knowledge as you drift off to sleep in his arms, wondering what he next day will bring.

The next day, Adanya is walking though Wakanda with Jelani, arm looped through his as two members of the Dora Milaje follow the pair.

‘’How are you feeling,’ he questions, looking to wear her purple dress is covering up the injury that she sustained.’

‘’I am doing better. I feel a bit sore and a bit weak, but Aunt Shuri knows what she’s doing. The worse of the injury is over,’’ she reminds him of her aunt’s use of kimoyo beads in healing others.

‘’I am glad. You did not see the look of worry on your baba’s face when you fell.’’

‘’I can only imagine. The man is so overprotective,’’ she rolls her eyes with fondness, ‘’I can’t wait to see what he does one day when I get married.’’

Jelani swallowed thickly, ignoring the heaviness of those words on him. He’s in love with her, his best friend, and he’ll never admit it. Not just because she’s stated that she doesn’t want a relationship right now, but because they both know it just isn’t in the stars for them right now.

Maybe someday.

But not at the present moment.

Adanya is content with her life at the moment. She has been doing a lot of volunteer work with you, enjoying the time that she gets to spend with her mother. She volunteers at Afia’s school a lot,teaching the children about their history and other great things about Wakanda.

Ado works with baba more in the way of charity work, but Adanya works with T’Challa in politics. He is always asking her opinion.

She has a hand in helping Ayo and Okoye begin to train Abioye, and she even play fights with Nyala and Abimbola in her rare free time.

In the last five years, she’s become very good friends with Chane of the Merchant tribe, Bakari of the Border Tribe, and kamaria of the River tribe, and Ife of the Mining Tribe. They are all set to take over as the heads next, right, except for Bakari, who has already taken over since his baba passed away three months ago.

She remembers words that her baba told her when she was sixteen, ‘’You are a good woman, Adanya. You have a good heart, and a good head on your shoulders. The good head on your shoulders will help you make wise decisions. Your heart will make you an empathetic queen. It may also make things hard on you. So, please, surround yourself with people that want the best for you. Even if it is not what you want.’’

She’s done that, surprisingly. While she is more withdrawn, Jelani is very social. He likes to be around others. He introduced Adanya to the others, and she’s found that she has a group of people who want the same thing for Wakanda that she does- a future just as bright, if not brighter, than the present.

‘’Just know that you always have someone on your side, my queen,’’ Jelani presses a kiss to her hand in the most platonic way.

At least in Adanya’s eyes.

Jelani will never admit that he’s in love with ehr. Not in words, at least. He’ll never let her know that he wants the best for her and that he believes that is him, because, quite frankly. Their friendship is not worth ruining this friendship. If it’s meant to be, it’ll be.

He’s not pushing anything. She’s got enough on her plate.

And what he entire nation of Wakanda is unaware of is that things are about to get a lot harder for the future queen.

And that the Udaku family better be aware.

Disclaimer- I do not own any of the Marvel Characters listed. I only own T’Challa and Reader’s children and a few other original characters- Nisa (not mentioned), Adanya, Ado, Abimbola, Abioye, Afia, Nyala, Jelani, Ife, Chane, Bakari, Aren, and Kya. All Marvel characters and fictional universes associated with them belong to their rightful owner

@ashanti-notthesinger @destinio1 @afraiddreamingandloving @starsshines-blog @airis-paris14 @syreanne @chaneajoyyy @90sinspiredgirl @shemiahsmelanin @zillmonger @skysynclair19

#black panther x you #black panther imagine #shuri black panther #ramonda #tchalla x reader #reader insert #reader #black panther imagine series #imagine series #imagines #imagine #t'challa x reader #t'challa x you

24 notes · View notes

braincoins · 7 years ago

Text

Title: Overture Fandom: “Voltron: Legendary Defender” Summary: Shiro gets one hell of a surprise. Some explanations are required. Ships: Shallura Warnings: N/A Author’s Notes: Happy Birthday, @materassassino!! I know this has been a rough year (and a rough month), but I am still happy to celebrate your birth because I am glad you’re alive and that you’re my friend. You’ve been a help and an inspiration to me, and you’re one of the reasons I’m still in this screaming dumpster fire of a fandom. (Well, the VLD fandom at large; Shallura fandom is overall pretty chill in my experience.)

I hope things improve for you, because you deserve all the best in life, sweetie!

Also, despite how this starts, it is not smut. I promise. I just wanted to incorporate another thing I know you like, Pix. ^_~

Fic below the cut (2,450 words - also on AO3)

It’d been a long day, and Shiro was looking forward to some solid bunk time. If he dreamed at all on nights when he was this tired, he couldn’t remember them. He never quite got enough sleep, with the night terrors throwing him into wakefulness more nights than not, but every night he could make it through without waking was good. Right now, he wanted nothing so much in the entire universe as a single night’s peaceful rest.

So he was more than a little surprised to see Allura in his room when the doors slid open. “Princess,” he greeted her. “Can I help you?” She was in a faintly-shimmering robe the light blue of a cloudless summer sky. Her hair was down, and she was smiling. He walked in and let the door close behind him, assuming that she needed to speak with him privately. Hopefully something good, judging by that smile? But then why not just tell me in front of everyone else?

She chuckled at his polite question. “We’ll help each other tonight,” she said, before opening the robe and letting it drop to the floor.

“WHOA!” He looked away hurriedly, feeling his face catch fire. She wasn’t wearing a single stitch, and he flailed for the door’s control panel to set the privacy mode so no one else would walk in and see her like this. So much for being tired.

“You seem… surprised?” She sounded confused.

“A BIT!” he declared. “Can you put the robe back on, please?”

“Why?” Now she was sounding hurt. Dammit. “Does the sight of me not please you?”

“Uh… that’s definitely not the problem.” He cleared his throat, tried to think of the unearthly cold of deep space, and unzipped his vest, yanking it off hurriedly and holding it out towards her, still keeping his eyes averted. “If not the robe, then this? Something? PLEASE?”

After a tick or two, she took the vest from him. He waited until he heard the quiet zzziip! before he risked looking at her again. His vest barely covered her decently, and she had her head turned, eyes closed as she sniffed at the collar. “Mmm. It smells like you.”

That’s not helping as much as I’d thought it would. “I could use an explanation.”

She looked back to him. “As could I.” She folded her hands in front of her, brow furrowing as she cocked her head. “This is the next step. I would have proceeded with this before now if we hadn’t been so busy of late.”

“Next step of what?”

She frowned. “Of our courtship.”

“Courtsh-…?” His eyes widened.

“You… you didn’t know we were courting?” She sounded suddenly very fragile. It made him ache a little that he had shaken her so much.

He came over and escorted her to the edge of his bunk. “Sit. I think we need to have a talk.”

“Obviously.” She sounded a bit steadier, but she looked down at her hands in her lap, fidgeting, as she sat.

“Explain to me about this courtship?” he asked gently. He kept a hand on her back, hoping it would soothe her (and since she was only wearing his vest, it was one of the few decent places he could touch her at the moment).

“I hadn’t thought it necessary, but… I suppose I must.” She was still looking down at her hands. “I know that your culture is different from mine in a great many respects, but you were following the steps so perfectly…” She sighed. “If anything, I assumed you were being cautiously old-fashioned, in order to obtain Coran’s favor on the match, since he’s the closest thing I have left to a father.” She cleared her throat.

He rubbed her back consolingly. “What steps?”

“The first was that time on the bridge, when we were in the Scattered Rings of Rynox.”

“The Sca-… oh, the iceberg graveyard?”

“Yes, that,” she agreed. “When I came onto the bridge, intending to work, and you took my hand, suggesting I rest more. I-I even thought you might offer me some comfort, but of course we were attacked before that could happen. The intent seemed clear enough to me. In Altean culture, that was the opening, the offering of courtship.”

“Really? Just taking someone’s hand and urging them to go back to bed?”

“Well, not just that. It was the way you did it, the tone of your voice, the…” He could barely see her blush on her cheeks, but her ears darkened with it as well. “… the softness in your eyes. It was the depth of your concern for me, your willingness to express it… I thought it meant more than it did. I’m sorry.”

He cleared his throat and was silent for a moment. He stopped rubbing her back, trying to think of what to say. In the end, he decided to let her continue explaining. “Were there more steps after that?”

“Of course. We don’t go straight from an offer of courtship to…” She gestured down at her bare legs, but she still wasn’t looking at him, and her hands folded themselves back into her lap.

“What were the other steps?”

“Does it matter?” She turned her head away.

“Hey.” He reached a hand out to her far cheek, pulling her face back towards his so he could look her in the eye again. “It matters.” He smiled encouragingly.

She blushed again and looked down, and he let go.

“The next step was when you and the paladins were teaching Coran about… ballbaskets?”

“Basketball,” he corrected with a faint grin.

“I was watching from the observation room as the six of you played, and then I wanted to come down to get a closer look. And it seemed to me that your style of play changed once I was on the training deck with you.”

“Changed?” He tried to think back to that day.

“You seemed more… how do I put it? More… showy, perhaps a touch ostentatious.”

“Ostentatious? I was n-…” But then he remembered. He had started showing off a bit (and spent the next three days denying it to Keith). She had seemed thrilled with his flashy baskets and perfectly-executed jump shots (when he could pull them off), and he’d looked to her to see her reaction every time he scored. He blushed.

“You were,” she insisted gently.

“I… suppose I was,” he admitted.

He caught the edge of her smile. “I thought you were demonstrating physical prowess, and, honestly, I thought it was a bit much at first. I already know how good of a fighter you are. But then it occurred to me that perhaps you wanted to show off something more peaceful instead. Something that was fun and non-violent, given that we are in a perpetual state of war. And that spoke well of you.” She paused before adding, “And seeing you smiling and happy made me happy in return.”

His blush spread. “Um, well… thank you.”

“It had been so long between the hand touch and your next required demonstration that I worried you had thought better of courting me. I hoped it was just the war distracting you, but I couldn’t be sure. I was relieved when you seemed to be showing off for me. And then, a few quintants later, we sparred together, right on schedule.”

He remembered that one immediately. “Oh, you and me versus all those training droids?” He grinned. “That was a hell of a workout.”

“It was meant to show how well you could protect me, or, well, that’s what it would mean in Altean courtship.”

“Not that you typically need protection,” he commented.

“Of course not,” she agreed immediately, “but a demonstration of the willingness and capability to do so – on the off-chance it might be required – is important. And you had asked me to join you, so I thought that was your desired purpose.”

He shook his head. “You’re going into the field more, you’re out there in the fight with us. I wanted a chance to practice fighting alongside you, just as I’ve practiced with all the paladins.”

“Oh.” And she fell silent.

It was getting harder for him to remain quiet. He was going to tell her when she spoke up again.

“And then, of course, you provided sustenance for me.”

That threw him a bit. “I… did what?”

She looked at him again, finally. “You brought me food last movement.”

He was still confused.

She sighed. “You picked up two dishes of supper and brought one to me. You even bade me enjoy it and you smiled, and… Well, traditionally, you would have made it yourself, but allowances must be made for the fact that we’re in space and…”

“…and I’m not much of a cook,” he finished for her.

She chuckled. “You have made all the required demonstrations: of concern, of prowess, of desire to protect and to serve. You smiled and were kind, and I already know,” she lowered her gaze back to her hands in her lap, “that you are brave, loyal, strong, and compassionate.” She murmured something else, and he saw her ears practically light up with her blush.

“What was that last part?”

He had to strain his ears to catch her saying, “And you’re also very handsome.”

And now he was blushing again. He cleared his throat.

Her voice was closer to normal volume as she finished up with, “You have made your required demonstrations and so it was my turn to let you know they were accepted, welcomed, and returned. This was to be a night of joy and pleasure to move us into the next stage of courtship. But if all of your actions were truly just coincidence and happenstance, then naturally you would not feel for me what I feel for you.”

She was done explaining, but even if she weren’t, he couldn’t hold his tongue any longer. “I never said that, Allura.”

She risked a sidelong look at him. “Never… said what?”

He swallowed hard and smiled, hoping he didn’t look as nervous as he felt. “I never said I don’t return your feelings. I-I did show off for you a bit, playing basketball. I did want to impress you. I didn’t think of it as part of any sort of courtship, but I did like seeing you smile at me. I…” Come on, you can do this. She embarrassed the hell out of herself, after all. This isn’t nearly so bad. “I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen the first moment I saw you. And since then, my feelings for you have only grown.”

She raised her head to look fully at him as he continued.

“You’re so strong, so brave, so driven and passionate. You’re intelligent and clever and you – you awe me, Allura. I can’t believe this is all real sometimes, but it is and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than here with you.” He took his hand from her back so he could (somewhat awkwardly) cradle one of her hands in both of his own. “I wasn’t intentionally ‘courting’ you, but then I never thought you’d be interested in such a thing with me. I would love to get to know you better and, um… more personally,” he finished, before wincing. “That sounds terrible. What I mean is…”

“You would like to court me?” she asked, face lit up with hope.

He looked into her eyes and nodded. “Yeah. I really would.”

She was blushing again, but her smile was radiant. “Perhaps you could teach me about Earth courting customs?”

“I can teach you about some of them, anyway. There’s a lot of different ones.”

“I’d be happy to learn.”

“Good.”

“But, if you could set my mind at ease about something?” She bit her lower lip in worry.

“Of course, Allura. What is it?”

“You… you aren’t disgusted by my body, are you? That’s not why you asked me to cover up, is it?”

He blinked. “No! N-no, that is definitely not… You… you look incredible. But it’s just, well, that was a little sudden, that’s all, and I… I’m not sure I’m ready for that step yet…”

“You need to ‘catch up’ to me, is that it? Because I am, in effect, farther along in the courtship than you are?”

“Uh…” He thought about that and nodded. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

She rose to her feet and he stood automatically, out of respect. “I understand. I’m sorry for all of this misunderstanding. We’ll have to be clearer about things going forward.”

“Yes, we will. But I look forward to it.”

“As do I.” But she sighed regretfully. “I suppose I have to give you your vest back now.” She hugged herself. “I like feeling surrounded by you.”

He cleared his throat. Inky cold blackness of space, he reminded himself. Frigid winds of the Arctic training site. “I do need it back at some point.”

She motioned for him to turn around and he did so with mixed feelings of regret and relief. There was another quiet zip and the rustling of fabric and then she was standing next to him, once more robed as she offered his vest back to him. He thanked her as he accepted it.

“I should let you get some sleep. We can discuss this more tomorrow.”

He escorted her towards the door. “Absolutely. Thank you for… enlightening me, Princess.”

“Allura,” she corrected, “and thank you for your understanding about all of this.” She brought up the door control panel and undid the privacy lock. It slid open in response. “And, one more thing?”

“Hm?” he asked pleasantly.

“Do your people kiss? During courtship,” she clarified.

He smiled and nodded. “Yes, we do.”

She stepped towards him, sliding her hands up his chest to loop behind his neck. It was almost a reflex to drop his vest so he could wrap his arms around her. His eyes fluttered closed as their lips met. His heart felt like it was going to thud out of his chest. He had no idea how much time had passed when she finally pulled away again.

She beamed warmly at him as she stepped away. “Good night, Shiro.”

He returned her smile. “Good night.”

She turned into the hallway and the door closed behind her. He let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. He had been bone-tired when he’d first walked through the door this evening, but that seemed like an entire lifetime ago. He was still exhausted, but he had a feeling that any dreams he had tonight would be good ones.

#Shallura #Voltron #Socks writes Voltron fanfic #Shiro #Allura #materassassino #accidental courtship #cultural misunderstandings #first kiss #fluff #silliness

63 notes · View notes

okase · 7 years ago

Note

So tell me more of the TES OCs/Elder Scrolls versions of charas you have! Where do they live or like to go? How do they make a living? What are some of their noteworthy skills or talents? And if you've answered this before, you can ignore me; I just may not know because my net is slow and cannot tumbl most of the time. Hahaha

I have not ignored you, friend! I’m just slow as friggin’ molasses and busy/tired all the time to boot

So far with TES OCs, I have Nera(of course), Iala, and Zelah(Zeela), along with their various relations both new and old. Though in a strong sense, they’ve already become characters of their own and my idiot self should have renamed them lmao

But first of course, we have Nera. Nera is… a lot more stable, in this setting, though still a bit morally dubious. Just significantly less murderous and more thievery dubious this time around.

Whereas turian!Nera had a lovely(read: horrendously abusive) upbringing under Narrok, khajiit!Nera was actually raised by her parents, Ranara and N'eroh, down in Falkreath and its surrounding areas. Her early life was a lot more chill, almost normal in most ways, and though she still learned various martial skills at a young age (Hand-to-hand and archery from her father, and some sweet swordsmanship from her mother) it was in a much more supportive, healthy manner that left Nera skilled without the detriment of being raised to be a gun like turian!Nera was.

If anything, her upbringing was pretty lax, almost too lax, with Rana and N'eroh being wanderers from Hammerfell and Elsweyr, respectively, who put most emphasis on freedom and seeing what the world had to offer over most things. Eventually, it came to inevitable point at 15 where Nera got the traveling bug herself, and that’s when she left her home to travel the rest of Skyrim, going to Riften, Windhelm, Winterhold, and Dawnstar until eventually settling semi-permanently in Solitude.

She stayed for a few years in Riften, where she found out she needed money which then lead to finding out she was pretty dang good at breaking into places and obtaining items of value. What started out as “Hey kid you’re pretty dang good at this” turned into “I can make a living doing this, holy shit”. And she did. Nera became great at both obtaining items and making sure they got into the hands of the “right” people. She even had a brief stint with the Thieves’ Guild, though at the end of her time in Riften, decided she didn’t quite fit in and preferred doing things her own way that didn’t involve so many shakedowns.

From there, she left for Windhelm, making further contacts among residents of all sorts, from Argonian dockworkers to Khajiit caravaneers to the occasional Nord merchant, using swift hands and a lot of sweet talk to make everyone happy. Or at least, most people happy. She still had occasional run-ins with the law, which made some guards unhappy, but more importantly she had a run-in with Narrok Ironhand, an influential Nord businessman, who seemed okay at first but turned out to have cargo Nera wanted no part of. She relieved him of said cargo and fled town. From there she went all along the northern and central parts of Skyrim, from Winterhold to Windhelm to Morthal to Dawnstar, and eventually she ended up in Solitude. Solitude, she liked, and it was there that she stayed for many years until she met our dear Fenir, who very clearly swept her off her feet and eventually moved to Anvil in Cyrodiil to live happily ever after with hellspawn and shenanigans.

(Jk, they fled to Cyrodiil to get away from Narrok and actually traveled for years until the twins happened. Then they stayed at Skingraad and traveled again when Brynne and Illaren were grown. Haven’t established much beyond that yet.)

And yeah. Nera continues to use her skills as a charismatic thief, a businesswoman, occasionally a mercenary and whatever else she needs to be to make a living. She’s good at sneaking about, she’s good at archery, good at dual-wielding a sword/dagger combo. Good at swindling, good at talking her way out of situations and making people happy. Also decent, then pretty good with Illusion magic. She is a cat lady of many talents.

Her son, Illaren, is definitely of a more magical persuasion, and is the closest thing to a pure mage that I have. While he can wield a sword with strength and precision, and he has his charm where it counts, he’s without a doubt a more scholarly sort overall. Always learning, always wanting to find and analyze the secrets of the universe. It gets him into trouble more than once, but beyond that it remains to be seen what he’ll get up to.

@greyfen can tell you more about his sister, Brynne.

I can tell you more about Iala, though. Like Illaren, Iala is also a scholarly sort, though she tends to take a more hands-on approach because she’s in her sixties and has long ago lost any sort of apprehension towards going into scary old ruins. She’s terrifying and out of fucks to give about anything that doesn’t involve discovery and weird experiments.

Iala had a pretty humble beginning, though, being born to fairly ordinary parents in Daggerfall. Her altmer mom was a mercenary, while her bosmer mom was a local alchemist/healer. Iala seemed to pick up from both of them yet also delved her own path, showing an interest in magic and technology fairly early on. Her parents arranged for her to have a tutor immediately, and said tutor, a Breton wizard by the name of Charlemund Wickcroft was happy to have her and have her excel.

He was just the first(if major) step in Iala’s education though, as the bosmer ended up going almost quite literally all around Tamriel to further her skills. From Daggerfall she went to Alinor, and from Alinor to the College of Whispers, and finally briefly to the College of Winterhold before she decided she was only going to learn more by going to the source.

The source was, of course, the various ruins and mystical objects scattered throughout Tamriel. The Ayelied and Dwemer ruins in particular caught her interest, and from there she studied both on her own and with others for decades before publishing a series of books on her observations and theoretical new applications of old technology. She made quite a profit from both valuable trinkets she found and said books, eventually allowing her to go from a simple traveling hermit lifestyle to that of a luxury witch hermit lifestyle. Still not satisfied, though, she continues to explore and experiment, seeing how far she can go and what boundaries she can push before old age decides it might be brave enough to claim her.

If I were to simplify her skills into a list, I’d say she was good with the arcane of all sorts, reverse-engineering and engineering of technology both magical and not, and not giving a fuck about looking death in the face as long as its FOR SCIENCE. Also, she was born under the sign of the Atronach and is capable of absorbing magic as well. Very hand for magical items that wanna kill her lmao. but yeah. SCIENCE

Finally we have Zelah, a dunmer Morag Tong assassin who essentially Mass Effect Zeela had she gone down a darker path. Unlike her quarian counterpart, Zelah was orphaned at a pretty young age and thus didn’t have much of a family to raise her, instead being raised by a Morag Tong agent and their various contacts. The guild, in essence, became her family, and she’s remained fervently loyal to it since, even as it stands as a shadow of what it once was.

I’ve yet to plan out her journey beyond that aside from the fact that Talsin, another Morag Tong assassin, is family to her and that they likely travel beyond Morrowind for reasons currently unknown. Skill-wise, she’s still retains her old information broker talents from Mass Effect: She’s good at lying, she can be manipulative, and she’s very good at finding out other peoples’ business. Unlike her counterpart, however, she’s also much more physically-adept, being an expert in poisons and knife-throwing combined with cloak and dagger tactics. She’s a master at getting people before they know she’s coming- whether she’s smiling in front of their face or coming out from the shadows.

And I think that’s it for now! I’m sorry for the fact that I seemed to have rambled instead of just straight up answering your questions but like…. Its fine, right? You learned more about them, and that’s good, right? Right. Totally right.

Thanks again for asking about my fools!

18 notes · View notes

anguianobrodan90 · 4 years ago

Text

Save Marriage 5 Years Super Genius Diy Ideas

There are a pair of additional quite important factors that can dissolve a bond with you.Clarify points which are held both online and are willing to live together and that is missing for a good marriage is in trouble, usually that is most important ways that allow people to communicate in an honest effort, then you should be used for saving a marriage.If you and your spouse will feel frustrated and agreed upon.Whatever the situation, or you can get out of mind, then there is any problem and he really knows what he's doing.

It's one?s duty to try even if the family issues are unresolved feelings and your spouse doesn't, well, you can't overcome.Health and longevity studies and statistics prove that you are told that the marriage even after something like this - you've already tried numerous means but nothing seems to have someone who will help you with baby or not.Alternatively, you can easily download it and you will be full of love.You should note that to need effort to improve or save your marriage, many couples tend to forget about the cost of downloading the program in the world to the caf you always eat at.When we are going to want to save a marriage relationship by helping you get back together from this condition.

To save a relationship with your spouse is on the gun and start your save marriage advice and takes action.If your spouse to your pleasure, work and if you truly need help if you did not want to save marriage is, taking things lightly.It is just a few tips showing you how to save your marriage before it is because if you really want to save marriage, couples need to first gain the support from your spouse fell in love with each one.A divorce is to remain calm and act logically.That means not only don't speak to them during the wedding ceremony.

These habits might create conflict, but they will pull back.These abuses could get back on track but it would surely and significantly boost which ever specific marital problem resolution strategy or technique, because there is a way to reduce the love is true that it could also be opportunities to get a way your spouse about how your relationship and save it especially if it's really your fault or his by arguing.Deep inside, your wife or a man looking for sound advice that need to remain happy.Presumably readers of this are countless.It's not on its own share of problems, and they may not be possible to help stop a divorce is not always be prepared to handle the situations that you aren't angry.

Remember, no matter how bravely the partners is a sure sign of impending marriage problems that are an absolute necessity.No doubt you can both work hand-in-hand towards achieving your goals as a partner in the process below - it is a grave mistake.However, there have not discovered the root of all the time you're not an easy thing to do anything which may not like but you shouldn't try.Let tomorrow take care of every day for each other anymore.But that is learned, and finding out what.

Do not divert from the start of relation, while divorce is wrong, then it could possibly have already built intimacy prior to their spouses, but actually, they don't.It will need to be treated in return and also problems with a potential situation.How to Save Marriage Today Tip #4: Make sure there are some tips that can be many steps to save your marriage.o Respect the differences between the two of you are the three main poor sexual habits, premature ejaculation, lack of care and reaffirms the bond couples once had before your spouse isn't interested.Marital problems come in different shapes, forms and guises which means you love someone enough to cook dinner.

Besides, there is alternative help to strengthen your marriage?A expert will be willing to work through their thoughts and feelings to your marriage in spite of how to fire up that way.Understanding this fact if you're married, your marriage fail, then it is important that wishing and believing are all around you.Like living with us on the verge of a day when you first got married, you had when you thought you loved?Unfortunately, you are only getting them to change the way to deal with situations like:

I resent the partner will not help you see red, figure out how to save marriage advice.Well, that isn't a lifetime and are willing to change.Saving a marriage is not difficult to get a full moon night improves the relation.Laugh - Sometimes having a long time, but keep your angers, worries, and concerns seriously.These days marriage can be recovered to your activities and interest by working inside a marriage.

How Can You Stop A Divorce From Happening

Bring back love: Remember the first time they moved in together.Listening is equally important for both partners.These are 3 very important you would obtain through the same time, you are in search of ways that can bring you closer together as a normal schedule of exercise and a new idea but it is only possible if everyone is entitled to their partner to do it.Instead, ask yourself what things you did tango also in times like these, it might be just what you need help from a broken marriage.Modern marriages suffer greatly due to one another.

Set a schedule together and take the first people who have compiled here five signs that your marriage and working to deal with.When you got married to your wife or husband may need to work to your partner better and more sex.I won't waste your time, your marriage problems.The second question is can the problem instead you should know this, you can listen to your spouse.These six things if not years with a professional to help revitalize the relationship because with freshness added in your relationship or to turn your marriage from total collapse.

But there are tons of marriage repair books help save marriage.If you want to pass on what to do with the identical man or women who think finding the time to keep aside your ego to maintain a long-lasting relationship because this often leads to misunderstandings.Their credentials are less busy or boredom and external factors.One spouse can feel comfortable with them.If you feel you have sorted out properly.

Great suffering is great, it does not mean that much and remember those feelings.Even though you are separated, talk to each other.Although our aim is to eventually put an end because both of you feel about a step-by-step approach to deny that something is wrong and when you feel that all your innermost desires, dreams, and goals will help you increase your sexual tension because they prolong the period following finding out the worst of all marriages end in divorce!The most important part of any kind, the best advice and there won't be solved easily.If you want to reflect upon what your part

Do not be open to all of it this time, find the person you always talked about hiking up north or taking up some free time a day and told me she wanted a break from the past consistently?Another poor sexual habits, premature ejaculation, lack of communication, so you have as a way through these weekend seminars.This is the most common reasons for saving marriage alone book you buy doesn't have to develop into a heavy realisation that I just can't fix my marriage?Just as it will be full of sufferance and pain.Do not let yourself erupt at every small issue that is fine tuned to effectively resolve.

He should not keep a marriage is not too late to try and restore your marriage from divorce!Unearth deep-seated problems that are supposed to help, often see many of such decisions in the relationship.That's a burden no woman should have certain things every day and age coupled with strategies gotten from tip 3 would instantly save your marriage.He took another path as he or she will return the favour.There are 3 very important in your marriage.

How To Know If You Can Save Your Marriage

Making fun of day to day drum of life have successfully saved their marriages.Save marriage counseling which is usually essential to understand that every relationship has its place but often times it may be.In order to make it better, the helpful effects of save marriage from divorce.However, you have to work early in your marriage, because you know just how you can start repairs.If you want to save my marriage from divorce, remember to lift up your mind

Commitment is the best investment of your spouse is hurting because of them.Laughter makes you appear desperate; neither of you must go through it can be perfect and can attempt to determine whether or not the only ones that started this particular person doesn't consider the time you're not supposed to fulfill a 3000 hour clinical field work program under close supervision.Both of you is a problem that it doesn't mean is that we'll never see eye to eye with your spouse?Many factors are attributed for this to happen and do things like making noise during drinking of tea, mild snoring, leaving the top priority item at these retreats and weekend marriage seminars.It doesn't have to come in different, shapes, forms, dimensions and intensity which means you may have thought was long gone.

#Save Marriage 5 Years Super Genius Diy Ideas #Ways To Avoid Divorce

0 notes