#alliance leaders when youre on your period

[authorhjk1]

Dreamy Pink

(Shin Ryujin X Male Reader)

By @i-am-lifeform24

“The pink one is Ryujin being an actual princess (haven't decided on the time period yet). This one is completely the opposite to the black one. Here is Ryujin in control. And her advisor is the guy she uses when she needs to get off.” - Inspiration quote from @authorhjk1

“No.”

“Your highness, they are all very accomplished, winners of multiple wars!”

“Accomplished, but ugly. No.”

“Princess, these nations have stood with us for centuries. Surely you can think it o-”

Ryujin stares down the impassioned minister, crossing her arms, her pink, flowing dress sparkling as she looks up at the man from across the round table. “I see no reason why I have to do anything, minister. I will not be marrying any of these slimy men.”

You sigh, shooting the old man an apologetic glance as the other members of the council fidget in their seats. The princess has always been… difficult. Even standing behind her, you can feel how uncomfortable the room is getting. Funny, that all the most powerful lords and ladies of the country can’t get through to a much younger girl.

Steeling yourself, you take a step forward, “My apologies, minister, perhaps the princess misunderstands.” Ryujin’s catlike eyes dart left, the princess giving you a warning, shifting her lithe body in the pink mass of cotton so she can better stare up at you. You can feel the other members of the table hold their breath. Here it comes.

“Misunderstand what exactly, advisor?” Her voice is icy, pointed, like she can’t imagine why you would say something so stupid. Well, it is your job after all, and whether she likes it or not, you were put in this position to keep her in check, so keep her in check you will.

“That while you are the most beautiful princess on the continent, you are also the leader of the most powerful country on this side of the world.” You start, gesturing to the other nobles of the table. They straighten up, morning sunlight peeking through stained glass to illuminate their battle-worn features, as if they’ve broken free from the spell of a very bratty princess.

Ryujin raises her eyebrow at you, slightly nodding for you to go on. You watch her dress shine in the soft light, taking a deep breath, “You have to at least listen their proposals out. Agree to the minister’s plan to let the princes visit you.”

Ryujin scoffs, “I don’t want their mud on my floors. This castle was built by my father, and you want to bring these grungy foreigners here? To my paradise?”

You lean forward, and Ryujin’s eyes widen as your strong voice echoes throughout the ornate chamber, “A paradise built by alliances. Strong, long-lasting, powerful alliances. Do you believe that your honorable parents fell in love by the grace of God, your highness?”

Ryujin’s eyes narrow, and the whole room holds its breath. You glance at the minister across the table, the man slowly sitting back down, eyes wide, his robes shifting as he tries to sneak back into his seat. Your heart catches in your throat. It’s never a good idea to mention the late King and Queen in front of her.

Maybe if you apologize before it sets in, she’ll forgive you. You meet Ryujin’s gaze, stammering, ‘N-not to say that your parents were without grace. I’m sure that they would be very proud of you, your high-“

“You’re right.”

Wait, what?

Ryujin smiles at you, her dark eyes crinkling as she exhales, breaking her stare. She turns back to the council. “My Advisor is right. I apologize for my own lack of foresight in the matter of my engagement. Minister, let it be know that I will receive these… princes. I will leave the details up to you.”

“A…. A wise choice, your highness! We shall begin constructing the plans right away.” The old man shoots up with a wide smile, the other council members filling the room with excited applause. You look down at Ryujin, and the princess cracks a smirk at you, as if her jolt of anger was all one big, convoluted, prank.

You gulp, giving her a quick smirk back, stepping behind the sovereign’s large makeshift throne as the council chatters on. Ryujin straightens her back, adjusting her tiara to sit on perfectly on her neatly combed locks. Here, at the head of the table, she almost seems like a real ruler, not an aggressive orphan made to reign way too early.

Soon, the meeting concludes, and you find yourself at the large mahogany bowing to every council member that takes their leave. “Thank you, duchess. And yes, we will make sure that the princess attends your name day celebration!” You lean forward, holding the gloved hand of an older woman, the smile lines on her cheeks deepening as you smile at her. She leans beside your ear, letting the other nobles pass behind her, “Thank the Lord for you, advisor. The poor girl barely has things together as it is…” You straighten, giving the older woman a sideways grin, “Now that’s our sovereign you are talking about, duchess, with how large the kingdom is, I would say that she is doing much better than any of us could.”

The duchess opens her mouth to respond, “Oh no advisor, i’m sure….” Suddenly, her eyes widen, staring at the doorway behind you, and she trails off. “Nevermind! I shall see you on Saturday. Your highness.” She curtsies, and you turn around, just in time to see Ryujin, with her guards flanking her, and her arms across her chest.

“P-princess! I apologize, I'm blocking your way.” You start, stepping aside in an ill attempt to escape. With a bang, the large doors swing shut, and the guards shift uneasily as Ryujin grabs you by the ear and pulls you along the hallway.

“Ow! Princess! I was just escorting the duchess out! I didn’t mean anything by-” You grimace, the sharp pain coursing through your body as she drags you past ornate paintings and ancient keepsakes. The royal is surprisingly strong, her long legs strutting confidently on the velvet carpet. You wonder what set her off this time. She handled the meeting well, really, really well. If anything, you’re more than proud that she managed to avoid exploding at the council, or at you, for once, so what could she possibly want with you now.

Eventually, the thump of her heels on the soft flooring stops, and you find yourself in front of a large, gilded door. The guards follow closely behind, gloves gripping the hilts of their swords tightly as Ryujin addresses them. “Leave us, now. And make sure that none enter this wing for the next few hours. I will have a few words with my advisor.”

You shoot a pleading look at the knights, almost feeling their pity through their plated armor. ‘Sorry, boss. We’ll make it up to you.’ they seem to say, bowing quickly before marching away to the entrance of the castle wing. God, you’ve really done it now.

Ryujin drags you inside, not wasting a second, pushing you up against the warm wood. Your breath catches in your throat, the messy, victorian style bedroom a lazy backdrop to the princess’ intense stare. She pushes her covered breasts onto your chest. Arms, they stay pinned at your side, like she’s pressing a painting into a wall. Ryujin slowly cranes her lips beside your ear, “I barely have things together?”

You gulp, heart catching in your throat as you look down at the beautiful woman. Her gaze is icy, hands slowly rubbing the outside of your trousers. “P-princess, the duchess simply worries for you, we don’t have to do this again.” you squeak, like a mouse, hunted by this very turned on, catlike royal.

Ryujin does nothing but smirk, pulling your underwear down quickly, dropping to her knees as the cold morning air wraps around your erect member. Your hands slowly droop down, but you stay plastered on the wood, like she’s still pinning you there, like her body is still on you.

“Heavy. Good. You’re filling me up today.” The princess cups your balls, her fingers dribbling against the puckered skin as she squints up at you. Amidst short breaths, you can’t help but marvel at how the orange-yellow light glazes her skin, the thin, pink fabric of her dress covered in dark spots as Ryujin’s wetness spreads from her legs. She’s beautiful, and after that disaster of a meeting, she needs a way to relieve her stress.

Ryujin’s tongue darts out, teasing the leaking tip of your cockhead as she grips you by your base, “Hey.” Informal. Casual. Crude. She looks up into your eyes, and you stare back down at her, sweat forming on your forehead as you can’t help but throb in her soft hands. “Yes, princess?” you reply, your voice breathy.

Her gaze softens, her eyes now half-lidded as she slowly licks up the length of your shaft. Her dress has creeped up her thighs at this point, and you can’t help but notice her bare pussy lips in between her kneeling legs. Ryujin stares at you, a firm warning exiting her precum smeared lips, “Don’t ever embarrass me again… daddy.”

You harden at the words, wanting nothing more than to grab the princess by the neck and throw her onto the bed. Ryujin can tell, making a show out of keeping one hand jerking on your cock, while the other pulls her dress down her breasts, the mink revealing perfect, perky breasts.

She smiles, “I’m going to drain you now, and you don’t get to cum until I say so, alright?” Ryujin accentuates the last word with a kiss on your cockhead, the skin wet with her spit. You give her a slow nod, gritting your teeth. She’s asking you for the impossible.

But she’s also your princess. You are sworn to her.

“Yes… your highness.” You croak out the words as Ryujin smirks at you, “Good daddy, now come to bed, i’m riding you until you fill me with your seed.”

You stumble forward, watching as your princess sauntily sways her now naked hips. No undergarments in the council meeting? You’d have ot tell her off later, but in the meantime, the idea only does more to keep your cock hard and ready. Her pink dress stays bunched up around her tight waist, and you watch as her ass sways in the morning light, the dresses and books strewed around the floor nothing but obstacles for her long, supple legs.

Ryujin crawls onto the bed, peeling the rest of the pink fabric off her body, then kneeling on her heels as she crosses her arms, “Faster, daddy. I have a kingdom to run.”

Hastily, you strip, sitting on the edge of the bed, then swinging your legs so they are on either side of the kneeling girl. You’re careful not to meet her eyes. No matter how turned on you are, she’s in charge.

Soon, you’re lying down on your back, the expensive, gold patterned furs digging into the small of your back as your princess straddles you. Ryujin’s hair falls around her face in the soft yellow light, and you watch as her petite tits rise and fall, the princess grabbing you by the shaft, your cockhead rubbing against her pussy lips as she stares down at you.

Her eyes roll back into her head, “God, daddy, if only that old hag could watch me handle this.

“Fuck!” You groan. With a slap, the princess’ ass bounces on your thighs as she roughly takes you to the hilt. She’s always rough, calling you daddy even if you’re her toy, but a part of you loves it, loves letting her take control, loves letting the princess, in a twisted way, worship you with her body.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Ryujin moans, grabbing handfuls of the blankets around her as she bounces on your cock. You feel her walls get accustomed to you, the tightness suffocating, wringing you in a wet embrace.

You look up. She’s not even looking at you. Her Tiara stays skewed on her head, her breasts jumping with every bounce, her small hands resting on your thighs as the princess arches her back, gyrating her hips onto your waiting cock.

“P-princess, it’s so good.” You moan, hands reaching down to grab her soaked ass.

A slap resounds through the large room. “Don’t you dare. You don’t get to touch me until I milk you dry, daddy.” Ryujin warns, her tongue coming out of her moaning mouth as she slaps your hands away, continuing her impassioned ride.

You give up, resorting to grabbing handfuls of cloth, watching as your beloved princess cums on your cock, over and over again, her breasts lathered in sweat, her taut stomach rippling under the force of her bouncing.

Ryujin opens one eye, panting, to grab you by the neck, “Kiss me, daddy…” You hesitate for a moment, wishing to savor the feeling of her drawing circles on your crotch, the glorious sensation of her royal pussy grasping onto every ridge of your unworthy cock, but in the end, you sit up.

“You’re beautiful, princess… please, i’m so close.” You beg, letting the girl hold you by the cheeks as your tongue explores her mouth, her hips still riding you, albeit slower, more deliberate, as if she wants to savor every moment too.

Ryujin looks up at you, her dark eyes mesmerizing as you feel the blankets shift. “Here, you belong to me… all your cum, daddy… it belongs to me…” She whispers slowly, pausing to grimace, as if your cock is somehow surprising her with pleasure after all these trysts.

You exhale, feeling it bubble in your core. Something about your aloof, icy princess demanding for you, demanding for your seed, burns all thoughts of stopping away. You need to cum in her, now.

Your lips find Ryujin’s neck, sucking on her clear, unblemished skin as your rough hands find her ass. This time, she doesn’t turn you away, the princess’ smile only getting bigger, as if she’s been waiting for you to take charge.

”Mmm, fuck! Fuck! Breed me! Breed your princess!” Ryujin screams, her hips now still as you fuck into her fast and hard. She’s sitting on your lap now, your chests pushed together, her breasts warm as you hammer into the royal’s pussy.

“Y-yes princess! It’s coming!” You grit your teeth, focusing on delaying your release for as long as you can, until the princess wraps her long legs around you, rocking her pussy lips on the base of your crotch. “Oh… oh! Daddy!” Ryujin groans, grinding her pussy onto you, not allowing you to thrust, her walls clenching, begging for your seed as she pins you down with the flower between her legs.

“I’m coming!” You roar, kissing Ryujin’s jaw as the princess’ eyes shoot open. She moans loudly as you fill her, your hot, virile cum making her body relax. You feel her in your arms, her tits shaking, her ass trembling as you fill the next in line to the throne with your seed.

It’s almost comical, that she’d get so frustrated with a stupid meeting, that this.is the only way she could relax.

Hey, you’re not complaining, sighing as Ryujin topples onto your chest, her hot, deep breaths in your ear her pussy still milking the last dribbles of cum from your cock.

You look down at her with a grin, “Is that all for this morning, your highness?”

Ryujin rolls her eyes, nestling into the crook of your neck, the fur blankets around you damp with the heat of your sex. “Mmm,..”

She flips you over, her legs spreading as you crouch above her, your cock exiting her pussy with a pop. Ryujin smiles, “No, daddy. This time, you’re going to use me.”

You smile, watching her bite her lip as the morning light fades. “As you wish, your highness.”

----------

Hi everyone!

This chapter was written by @i-am-lifeform24 . Thank you so much for the great chapter!

I hope you guys enjoy reading it.

Stay healthy!

[hcneymooners]

⋆ rose moon.

mafia leader!sevika x younger!female!reader. men & minors dni.

synopsis: you've always loved sevika, despite the tension between her and your father and their shaky alliance. it was only a matter of time before she loved you back. 

cw: sevi is in the mafia baby!!, age difference, dysfunctional family, older woman/younger woman, power dynamics, slight power imbalance, love confessions, not actually unrequited love, misunderstandings, explicit sexual content, masturbation, exhibitionism, strapping, sex toys, dom/sub undertones, top!sevika, praise kink, degradation kink, dirty talk, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, obsession, you get bratty and sevi isn't having it, protective sevika, oral fixation (implied), forbidden love, resolved sexual tension, seduction (you try lmao), non-sexual intimacy, bathing/washing, face-sitting, you've loved sevi since you were 17 but nothing happens till you're 20, and she doesn't even like you like that till you turn 19, mutual pining, sevi has better control though. notes: i love her so much. it's eating me alive. let me know if you want a pt. ii or if you have a request. love you.

since you were a young girl, you’d known there would be only one love of your life. it didn’t matter how many times you were destined to date or marry; there would be one person who would capture you, body and soul. you had resigned yourself to a life laced with symptoms of unhappiness if you were barred from being with them.

then you met sevika.

you had peeked around your mother’s hips—fourteen and praying for a growth spurt—your curious eyes drinking in the stark lines of your father’s office. sevika had been a brooding figure on the edge of his desk—a storm contained in a silk suit, her gaze weighty, her hands scarred and capable.

she was the most singularly beautiful thing you had ever seen, and you still believed that.

it was a clarifying moment in twofold: on one hand, you understood your family’s accusations of weakness had lost their sting the moment you saw light thread across the silvery skin of her scars. on the other, you realized you were underestimated. you would have sacrificed every ounce of your bloodline, sown salt into the earth of your familial legacy, if it meant you could be beholden to her for eternity.

anyone surprised by the revelation that you loved sevika simply hadn’t been paying attention. it felt as though, since you’d first learned to breathe, you’d been enamored with her.

when you were young, your family found it endearing—your wide-eyed infatuation with one of the most feared women in the city. you trailed after her, quiet but relentless, and she had been patient.

she let you cling to her hand when you were frightened, let you curl into her space when you sought attention. she was firm but fond, tolerant of your tantrums and the transgressions of a spoiled girl who had always been given too much and still wanted more.

despite the risks, sevika had allowed herself to possess a favorite. you used to cry alligator tears when she left for long periods—because you were seventeen and didn’t yet understand it.

once, she gripped your jaw when you’d earned it, twenty and fresh-mouthed, her calloused fingers pressing gently into the soft skin. you couldn’t name the feeling it stirred—something dangerous and deep as she stared you down—but it stayed with you. that moment clarified your vocation.

and so you began to push.

you fought for her—through her—tearing past every shield she raised: her doubts about the gap in your ages, her cruel certainty that you could never endure the life she’d lived, the life your parents kept hidden from you, or the world she was still shaping with her iron grip.

criminal, she’d spat once, the word acid on her tongue, as though it was a slur she couldn’t wash away. but you had only looked at her, calm and unwavering, and reminded her who your father was.

you knew the spores of your affection had spread, had infested her. her eyes would catch on the press of your breasts, how they strained against gowns you tailored to be unforgiving in their intent. she always lit a cigar to occupy her mouth when an admirer stole your attention, restraining herself from speaking out of turn.

“you don’t know what you’re asking for,” she told you once, back when you were still a simpering ingénue.

“i have always been sure of what i want,” you replied, unflinching. she had only chuckled, thumb grazing your chin before leaving you to your slow breath and trembling mouth.

your family would never forgive you for this—choosing her over them. their anger would hang in the air, an unspoken threat, and you would spend your life waiting for the moment someone came to drag you back, to force you into the inheritance you had defiled. they would call sevika a thief, accuse her of stealing you in the dead of night, as if your love for her were something to be taken rather than earned. but you were ready for this. willing to endure it all.

now, as you stepped from your bedroom, you thought of how tonight could not go wrong. it was her birthday, and this would be your greatest declaration of love.

the party would be a lavish celebration of her impressive journey.

you raised a hand to your cheeks, pressing down on the tight skin. the ache was familiar—a result of the constant, relentless smiling as you readied yourself for her arrival all night. you wondered if there would be bruises later, if the skin would turn mottled and rotten. you didn’t care. everything you did was a labor of love.

you felt her enter the house, the air around you seeming to breathe easier.

“[name]?” your mother called, her voice curling up the staircase.

“coming,” you answered, your body trembling with barely contained excitement.

♕𓃮

the party was gilded, extravagant.

you had planned it with trembling hands, pouring over every detail until the edges of your vision blurred and a headache surged, each choice made with the silent hope that sevika might experience happiness, if only for a moment. you had begged your parents for this, wrapped in promises of alliances and strengthened ties, though your intentions had always been singular.

you wore gold for her—another dress clinging to you like a second skin, the fabric shimmering like starlight. a soft veil draped over your hair, your neck adorned with delicate jewelry you’d once been too shy to wear. compliments whispered as you passed—some sincere, others crude—but all of them mingled in the haze of champagne and the soft hum of music. you could barely hear them, your pulse frantic as you searched for sevika within the crowd.

carefully, you began to climb the stairs, seeking a better vantage point.

“there you are, little bird.”

the words made you shiver, then preen. sevika’s voice swallowed you—low, rough, like smoke and gravel. you didn’t need to turn to know she was right behind you, her silhouette tall and imposing, haloed by the faint glow of the party below.

you turned, and your chest practically opened, eager to display your heart—weak, wanting. your mouth parted to offer birthday wishes, but a laugh sounded, sharp and cutting.

“look at her. she might as well have ‘kneel’ written across her forehead.”

“pathetic.”

you smiled through it, cheeks burning, despite your body threatening to collapse in on itself in embarrassment. sevika cast a sharp look that exacted a heavy silence, her mouth twitching with displeasure. without another word, the partygoers dispersed, and you touched your waist briefly to stabilize your body as it swayed in relief. she looked back at you, brow furrowed, studying your face.

pathetic.

that’s what they had called you.

“sweet girl.”

you tried to speak again, but only managed, “one moment. i need to check on the food.”

you weren’t sure where you were headed, but it wasn’t the kitchens. eventually, you found yourself upstairs in the darkened hallway of the east wing, hands braced against the edge of a credenza.

the music drifted faintly below, strings lilting up the staircase like spiteful ghosts. you bit down hard on the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself to swallow the knot in your throat.

“[name].”

as if struck, your body convulsed with shame as you realized sevika had followed you, only to find you like this. you must have looked so naïve, so stupid.

“sevika. i’m—i’m so sorry,” you whispered, not trusting yourself to meet her eyes. “i shouldn’t have left. the cake will be out soon. i just needed a moment.”

her boots crossed the wooden floors, deliberate and steady, until you felt her presence behind you. sevika—imposing and unshakable, as though the weight of the world couldn’t move her. and here you were, twenty years her junior, trembling beneath her gaze like a leaf caught in the breeze.

“turn around.”

you obeyed, as you always did, though your gaze stayed fixed on her chest. she was so close now, the scent of leather and something faintly metallic lingering on her. when you finally dared to glance up, you found her studying you—those dark eyes sharp, too knowing, as if she could see every jagged thought in your head.

“has it been like this all night?”

“sevika,” you said, and it was answer enough.

“that’s not what you usually call me,” she remarked, a slight curve to her mouth.

you flushed and tugged at your sleeves.

“i—well. i don’t think you need more reasons to view me as juvenile.”

sevika rolled her eyes, unimpressed at your jab.

“i don’t view you as juvenile, princess. i’m well aware you’re a woman.” she cast a long look over you after that, her teeth worrying at her bottom lip as her gaze followed the pendant dipping into the rising swell of your breasts. “i don’t misunderstand that.”

“besides,” sevika continued. “i like it.”

you never could argue against pleasing her.

“well, it is your birthday,” you sighed, and she smiled.

“thank you, sweet girl.” she tilted her head. “you’re so good to me.”

you turned away again, pressing your fingers to your cheeks as if to send your blood flowing away with urgency.

“it’s alright if you’re upset. they were cruel to you,” she said.

you laughed softly, the sound hollow, and spun to face her. “they’re right, though, aren’t they? i’m… a silly, pathetic little thing. i thought—” you broke off, embarrassed. “it doesn’t matter.”

“tell me.”

your fingers curled around the edge of the credenza, the words clawing their way up your throat. “i thought maybe… if you saw what i thought of you—what i did for you—”

the words hung heavy, the silence stretching between you like a knife’s edge.

“what did you do?” sevika asked quietly, her voice unreadable. “show me.”

you hesitated, shame prickling beneath your skin.

“it was supposed to be your grand gift,” you said finally. “for tonight.”

“show me,” she repeated.

your heart stumbled, but you nodded, slipping past her and further down the hall. sevika followed, her footsteps a steady beat behind you as you led her to the study. your hands trembled as you unlocked the desk drawer and pulled out the deed.

“i bought it back,” you said softly, holding it out to her. “your family’s ranch. the one you lost when you were a child.”

sevika didn’t take it at first. she just stared at you, her expression unreadable, until you dropped your gaze.

“i know it’s foolish,” you murmured, the words rushing out in a whisper. “but you must know by now that i’ve loved you for my entire life. the world is somewhat right—i am a melancholic creature driven by my whims. a spoiled brat at times, but i could—” your voice caught. “i could be better. i just… i thought maybe if you saw what i thought of you, you’d…”

“decide to love you back?” sevika finished for you, her tone firm but not unkind.

you nodded, eyes stinging. this was horrible. how did people confess their feelings? it was like staring down the barrel of a gun. she still wasn’t speaking, and your ears were beginning to ring. the shot had sounded.

instead, she reached out, calloused fingers tipping your chin up until you were forced to meet her gaze. her expression had softened, though something dangerous lingered, coiled and waiting.

“princess,” she began, and you lifted yourself from her hold.

“it’s alright,” you said, voice weak. “i had to try one final time. we [last name(s)] were never good at admitting defeat.”

“[name].”

it almost sounded like pleading. you put distance between the two of you and hid your shaking fingers in the folds of your dress. the door loomed behind her, and you sidestepped her thick body, desperate to escape.

“it’s fine. i need to prepare your cake. i’ll see you in the ballroom.”

you turned back.

“oh, and happy birthday, sevi.”

♕𓃮

shame pressed hot against your chest.

the bath water was scalding, the steam curling thickly in the air, but it couldn’t quite reach the knot tightening in your throat. you pressed your cheek to your knees, the weight of the evening finally catching up to you. you let yourself drift, welcoming the disassociation. turns out you couldn’t do anything right—not even shield yourself from sevika’s quiet entrance into your bathroom.

she leaned against the counter, her presence steady, and cleared her throat. it took you several moments to notice her, and when you did, you let out an undignified shriek. without thinking, you sat up, instinctively covering yourself. with another shriek, you scrambled for a towel as she calmly turned, propping open the window next to the sink, releasing a thick ring of cigar smoke. she stepped forward, plucking the towel from your hands and pushing you—tenderly—back into the water.

“what the fuck, sevi?”

she laughed, a low, rich sound.

“there you are. i hated that simpering nonsense you were doing earlier.”

“you mean when i confessed my undying love for you, and you told me you didn’t feel the same?”

“no,” she answered, her voice a dark purr. “i mean when you told me you loved me, and then ran like a coward.”

you huffed, turning away, the shame settling deeper.

sevika sat beside you, her metal hand tugging gently at your hair. the other, still cradling her cigar, absently traced the line of your collarbone. she didn’t speak, but you leaned into her, seeking the comfort she offered without words. her scent, a blend of blackberry and whiskey, mingled with the rose-scented bath soap. the only sound was the soft lap of water against the sides of the tub.

still, the quiet was suffocating. you couldn’t suppress the gnawing self-deprecation that had been simmering for months. it rose like a flood, impossible to contain. the weight of it pressed against your chest, the last remnants of your resolve crumbling. when sevika put out her cigar, you took that as your cue.

“i resigned myself to a life of displeasure,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath.

sevika didn’t respond at first. she simply pulled you closer, her fingers tightening just enough to ground you. her lips brushed against the crown of your head, but you could feel the tension building in her body, the way she braced for what was coming. she knew something was about to break.

“i prepared myself to lose you in some way,” you said, the words tasting bitter. “there would be nothing after you. i’d marry as a fail-safe, in case the business needed an alliance. and if things got bad, maybe i’d just—”

the words hung in the air, brittle and sharp in their conjuring, before being shattered by sevika’s breath—a ragged, shuddering inhale. you felt the muscles in her arm tighten, as if she were holding herself together by a thread. when she spoke, her voice was low, raw, and dangerous.

“don’t,” she commanded, her words thick with fury, “ever say that to me again.”

you stared at her, startled by the force of her reaction, and found her face tight, her eyes blazing with something primal. she was holding herself together by the thinnest thread, and you realized that the thought of losing you, of you slipping away, was a wound deeper than anything physical.

her hand came to your face, gripping your jaw with careful strength. sevika’s eyes searched yours, the intensity of her gaze making your chest ache.

“do you think i’d be so cruel?” her voice cracked, as if it pained her just to ask. “that i would let you slip away into nothing?”

the rawness of her voice trembled through you. she wasn’t angry—not really.

“i would burn this whole fucking world down before i let you die, do you hear me?” sevika’s words came out in a low rasp. “i will always find a way to save you. i will protect you, no matter what it costs. even if you hate me for it. you are mine, and i will never let you go.”

you felt her hands tremble as they slid down your arms, as if memorizing every inch of you, ensuring you were still here. still breathing.

“you are so—”

her gaze hardened.

“i asked them,” she said, her voice steady now. “tonight. wanted to do it properly.”

“asked who?”

“your parents. i petitioned them for your hand.”

the words hit like a punch to the gut, and you recoiled, your mind scrambling. “and they said no?”

“mmm.” she nodded.

you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. you pushed back, away from her, but she caught your wrist, holding you steady. your thoughts threatened to fracture.

“listen to me,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “that was a formality. it’s not their permission i need. it’s yours.”

you blinked up at her, your breath caught in your throat. “what are you saying?”

she stepped closer, her voice a low murmur.

“i’m saying you’re not a fool, sweet girl. you were brave tonight, and i’d like you to be mine, if you’ll still have me.”

“of course i still want you. are you dense?” you smiled, a shaky, indulgent smile, before your voice faltered. “but—what about—”

“forget them,” sevika interrupted, her tone sharp now, edged with steel. “i’ll take care of it. i’ll always take care of you.”

her words struck a pulse through you—not because you doubted her, but because you knew she meant them. sevika didn’t make empty threats.

you stared at her, your pulse quickening. “you mean—”

“we’ll go tonight.”

you gaped at her, but she only watched you with a fierce intensity that left no room for doubt. this was real.

“you’d take me with you?” you whispered.

her lips curled faintly, a ghost of a smile.

“of course, i would.”

your hands trembled as you nodded, your voice barely a whisper. “yes.”

sevika’s hand found yours, steady and warm, pulling you closer.

“say it again.”

“yes,” you whispered.

her smile widened, dark and triumphant, as she leaned in, her voice a low rumble against your ear.

“good girl.”

and with that, your heart cracked open, and you lunged for her.

♕𓃮

if you desired her less, perhaps you would’ve been more coquettish, more in control. but nothing could have stopped your hunger.

still, as always, sevika steadied you. without any effort she caught the full weight of your body as you climbed into her arms, your hands like steel around her face. you bit at her mouth until she let you in, mewling as she pulled you into her lap. you shivered naked and wet, her large hands coming to cup your ass firmly as you plundered her mouth.

“steady, princess,” she murmured, pulling back to cup the nape of your neck. “i want this just as much. no need to work for it. i’ll give you want you need.”

“sevi,” you whimpered. “sevi, please.”

“mmm, i know.” sevika dipped her head down, sucking a dark mark into your neck. “i need you to do something for me first though.”

“anything.”

and she knew you meant it.

satisfied, sevika rose and walked you into your room. placing you gently on the bed, she used a hand to force your legs open. for a moment, she stood and watched your pussy glaze with arousal. she then leaned forward, sliding two fingers lightly through your cunt.

“so easy f’me.”

“sevi.”

sevika ducked down, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh before pulling away, her movements fluid as she made her way to the desk. in a series of precise motions, she positioned herself in front of the bed, settling into a wide, deliberate manspread. idly, she slipped off her shirt so that her tits were exposed, large and enticing. your mouth watered, and you felt a new wave of slick leave you.

“you just have to do this one thing, and then i’ll do whatever you want. does that sound good, princess?”

you nodded, desperate to obey her and earn your keep.

“good girl. now, i want to watch you get off.”

you froze.

“wh—what?”

“i want you to touch yourself,” she repeated, raising an eyebrow. “you weren’t this shy when you were, what was it, nineteen? yeah. you told me in great detail how you thought of me when you fucked yourself, how you had to shove a pillow over your mouth to stop yourself from screaming.”

“i was—that was a moment of unsound judgement!”

“yeah. i thought about it every moment after.”

that shut you up.

“so, i want you to show me.”

her voice let you know that it wasn’t an option.

“okay,” you whispered.

you began to shallowly pump a finger inside of your cunt, eyes fluttering as you searched for that spongy dip in your walls that sends your head spinning. your thighs reigned open and sweaty; your cunt was spread wide and so pink. the lips were swollen, and you felt yourself leaking further under sevika’s relentless gaze.

“slower,” she instructed.

it took quite some effort for you to slow down your ministrations, but you needed to be good. you let out a hiccup of pleasure as your knuckles clipped your clit, rosy and full. a throaty moan burst from you as sevika shifted, bringing her head forward to maintain eye contact. your fingers picked up the pace, and your eyes grew heavy as you felt your pleasure begin to crest.

“fuck, fuck, fuck. fuck, sevi. right there, please.”

you realized sevika was still mostly clothed, certainly more than you were, and that deepened the heat in your stomach. you whimpered pathetically as you pressed harder into yourself, adding two more fingers and riding them to abandon. you slumped further into the mattress, rubbing viciously at your clit to add more stimulation.

“please. please. please. please.” this was your form of prayer. “fuuuuck!”

your head snapped back as you led yourself to your first orgasm, a wail rising from somewhere deep in your chest.

“sevika.”

she loomed over you, settling her hands on your hip. her eyes were practically two pools of black, her irises swallowed by her dilated pupils. you reached a hand up to graze along the underside of her bob, and she caught your wrist, kissing right against the fine bones resting underneath your skin.

you softened and made a small noise of contentment. she looked back you.

“turn over.”

you abided.

♕𓃮

despite how much you’d imagined it, nothing to compared to the real feel of sevika fucking you.

you were surprised that she’d chosen penetration first and said as much, but she’d only smirked at you from where she was adjusting her holster.

“don’t worry. i plan to make you finish on my face.”

you couldn’t find it in you to be upset.

now, she had you back in her lap and riding her. your back was slick against her chest, her nipples hard and rigid against your spine. she pulled your hair, drawing your head back and biting down into your throat.

“holy shit,” you moaned.

“i know, sweet girl. no one’s ever given you what you needed before, hmm? doesn’t it feel good?”

“yeah,” you agreed, high and breathy, and she laughed.

you loved it when she laughed.

desperate to cum for the second time, you placed a hand on her thigh and slammed yourself down. lazily, sevika sucked your earlobe into your mouth and drew circles around your clit.

“look at that, princess. you’re leaving a little ring around me. jesus,” she sighed, as if put out, “you’re such a fucking whore.”

you moaned loudly, and she drew away from your clit and began to play with one of your tits instead.

“you know i’m right. that’s why you just tightened around me. you’re nothing but a cock-hungry slut who wants to be filled.”

“by you,” you gasped out.

“yes,” sevika said. with a cry, you were pulled off of the dildo and rearranged beneath her. “by me.”

as if to further prove the point, she brought your legs together and pushed them back until she could mount you.

“fuck, baby. you feel like a dream.”

you clenched. you wanted this to be good for her.

“shit,” she groaned and sped up her thrusts, her hips slapping against your ass.

“sevi, please. please give it to me. i’ve been so good.”

sevika nodded sympathetically, pulling your legs apart so she could put them over her shoulder.

“i know you have.”

you weren’t even hearing her at this point, just bearing down so that you could feel her in your throat. your nails dug into her back, and she hissed at the pain. the ache only pushed her, increasing the force of her thrust until her tits were bouncing with the effort.

“c’mon, princess. are you gonna finish for me? i want you to cum on my cock. paint it for me.” her eyes narrowed, honing in on her prize. “come on.”

with a wordless scream, your body arched upward, your pussy spasming as you squirted all over the bed.

“oh, fuck,” you moaned. “shiiiit, sevi. oh my god.”

“mmm,” was all she said, still intent on delivering on her promise.

your world once again turned on its axis as she picked you up, bringing you to sit on her chest. stupidly, you only stared down at her, and she couldn’t suppress a half smile.

“and i here i thought you were all work and no play,” she teased, dragging you upward until you hovered over her mouth.

“humor me, princess,” she ordered. “settle.”

we'll be happy, you thought.

she opened her mouth, tongue extended, and you fell.

© hcneymooners.

[the-bed-gremlins-reading-list]

My Marriage to the Cursed Royal

Demo: Twine on Itch.io Last Update: 9/6/2024

Rating: 18+

Synopsis

When you meet with an unfortunate accident in the real world you find yourself cast into the role of the younger Medulloi sibling. Your elder brother is the Duke of Ausones, a small and recent addition to the Nasennii Empire.

For three hundred years the Imperial war machine has fueled the Nasennii expansionism across the continent of Fantasia. A war machine that has been unable to advance across the northern expanses that make up Ithel.

Imperial superstition maintains that it is unlucky for a commander to remain unwed - so when the Royal Bastard, the Emperor's cursed child, makes little headway in the campaign a marriage in absentia is arranged.

A marriage to you.

It's a new world with a spouse you have never met.

Oh, except one itty-bitty thing - Fantasia Crown Wars is one of the most popular media franchises to exist. (Oh, and a savvy fan knows that Auberon Medulloi's younger sibling died.)

Characters

Auberon Medulloi - The Duke of Blood

Your new half-brother. He's famous among fans for his brutality as a military commander and the cold calculus with which he approaches his alliances when he's introduced during the third book of the main series. You know him as your warm, slightly fussy elder half-brother who frets himself silly over taking care of your family's lands and makes you sweets when you feel sad. He's joined you in the Imperial Capital to insure that you're safe and have all the support you could possibly stand. In the books he becomes the most feared leader of a rebellion against the Nassenian throne. One that was destroyed by your spouse and leads to Auberon's eventual execution.

Lucius/Lucia Nasennia(us) - Your Spouse, the Cursed Royal (RO)

They are the emperor's eldest child, the illegitimate one whom misfortune follows like an old friend. They were born in the dead of a moonless night and gifted with the ice magic of Ithel through their mother's veins. The priesthood has sworn should they ever take the throne it will be the end of the Nasennian Empire. And yet they are among the most gifted commanders of the age, it is on them victory against Ithel and peace among the conquered lands depend. The books described them as cold and calculating. The blockbuster movie saw them behead their younger brother after arranging the death of their father. They were also supposed to be unwed.

Marcus Nasennius - The Golden Prince (RO)

The third child of the emperor and the heir to the throne after the death of their sister. Marcus has always been the charmer of the royal family, the one for whom life was easy and joyful. He's said to have been blessed by the Empire's gods - born on a bright summer day in the heat of noon, and gifted with command of light magic he has always been placed in competition with his elder brother by the court, but they were friends once. Marcus was one of the main characters of the books - and the classic prince charming had always quite popular. So popular, in fact, that after his tragic demise in the movie he was brought back to life in the television show.

Rossella Catilia - The Red Mage (RO)

The Catilia family has stood behind and beside the throne of Nasennia since the War of Sparks founded the nascent Empire. They are wealthy and powerful and Rossella is the same age as Prince Marcus. She was brought to court at a young age and raised with the expectation that she would be among those considered as his match. A marriage she's openly appalled by due to her close friendship - and lack of romantic feelings for both the royal brothers. Still she's publicly considered the picture of what an Imperial Lady should strive for. Like many Imperial nobles she has some talent as a mage with a reputation as a skilled healer. In the books Rossella played the part of peacemaker between the brothers until her sudden foreign marriage removed her from the picture during TFCW's brief period as a graphic novel. (A move her fans hated almost as much as the scarlet color her hair was colored with on those pages.)

Caerwyn - The Assassin from Ithel (RO)

Bright, obnoxious, oh, and a vampire. This Ithellen assassin was meant to be your death. You're still not sure what changed his mind, nor why he's decided to serve you as your personal "spy-slash-assassin-slash-bodyguard-slash-gossip-gatherer". Caerwyn's appeared in the plot far earlier than he should have based on the books, where he only emerges out from the shadows after Ithel's defeat. Following the demise of his homeland he had come to serve your brother, Auberon. Caerwyn is among those that is supposed to be killed by your spouse, having dramatically sacrificed himself to ensure the escape of the rebel army and leading to that arc lasting much longer than anyone expected it would.

Rune Leleux - The Knight? (RO)

Like the assassin Caerwyn, Rune Leleux has shown up in the story far earlier than they should have. In fact you have a strong suspicion that the next book that was suppose to release in a month will reveal that the person introduced as a wandering bounty hunter and oath-breaking knight stole the real Leleux's identity. The Rune Leleux you know serves as your brother's faithful knight and right hand. They've been your friend since you were children. You can't see how the soft-spoken, if sometimes sarcastic, warrior who helps you live in Fantasia could possibly be the brutal and heavily scarred murderer draped in wolf skin that the Bastard Royal hires to help assassinate the emperor and sabotage the capital's defenses.

Robin Watcher - The Bard (RO)

This sweet natured bard is a minor character in the canon - like your new identity is. Or at least, she must be, because you definitely can't remember her from anywhere. (Maybe she was one of those unnamed extra in that one made-for-tv movie that everyone prefers to forget exists?) Whoever this bard is she always seems to know quite a bit about whoever happens to be around - and, well, she's rather curious about you. (In more ways than one.) Also, no one seems to know who she is or where she came from, just that she's great with instruments and has a very pretty voice.

WIP Warning: Any information contained in this post is subject to change as the project develops. The same goes for information posts on this blog.

[algerian-lady]

Listen, his clothing style is completely random and tacky, but he makes it work somehow, maybe because he's excessively handsome? Jk, I think his style reflects who he is as a character, he can dress formally too ofc, when the occasion is offered, but otherwise he's just not interested in that, and his huge coats and oversized clothes as well as his large built and height, make him appear as this huge friendly bear, intimidating as a mafia should be, but also super warm and cozy when you get to see his smile and super soft personality.

I really love Dio's character in Khr, I love so many characters so it's difficult to pick favorites, but I'd have wanted to see him more (like not as a side character, but see his work, life, powers etc as an individual and the Cavallone family in general) that's why I wanna write smth for me abt him (prob gonna share it with my sis). And while I was looking back on his appearance and fashion choice, did I really start analyzing it, like ofc all khr is like this, it reminds me in a sense of bleach with how random the fits were, it's nostalgic to the 2000's style and I love it ofc, I love homey comfy clothes, they just put you in a different mood.

But since Dino is from the few characters who aren't attending school, and he doesn't give a shit abt official wear, that's why we get to see some of that clothing style ppl were wearing at the time. I'm saying it's the fashion sense of that period yes, but the author still gives their character their individuality, like Gokudera has a very edgy punk fashion statement, despite being in school he's always popping up with a new killer outfit and it's so interesting to see. (like I'm acknowledging here that they don't only wear their school uniforms, it's just what they wear the most, but he's still outstanding outside of that contrary to the others who made made forget they wore other stuff)

This is just a rumble and if I start talking about everyone and comparing, it'll be a mess, so let's just focus on Dino. The guy is at the head of one of the biggest mafia families of his time and at such a young age, all of his men are in uniforms to give their family a decent representation as a serious gangsta mafia unite, but their leader doesn't, he just dresses up like a hipster. The thing is he can clearly afford to dress up more richly, but he doesn't.

In manga and animes, I usually make a wild guess that authors may not know if what the person is wearing is considered fashionable,( like I'm an artist and have absolutely no idea how my characters will be perceived, I could think 'this character needs to appear fashionable' but ppl online will call them tacky and messy, especially generations later, across continents ) I have also a feeling that bcz it was so old the perception of fashion was different (as I have pointed many times) and lastly, bcz the Mangaka (s) is/are prob Japanese, they could have a certain image (right or wrong) over foreign fashion, esp from a country as fashionable as Italy, so that'd explain why they wanna give an impression with characters that came from there, like Gokudera his sister Bianchi and Dino, saying like look these ppl are youngsters from Italy, they wear like 2000's magazines. All of these are speculations, to say that those could be some reasons those characters wear this specific way.

If we put these aside, and consider that the Manga artist know exactly what they are doing and it's 100% what you think it is, in this case, Dio's décontracté objectively messy style compared to his men, has a clear message, he's saying" I'm your homie clumsy big bro, fuck étiquette, i'm the boss hanging out with my fam, let me live my age, I'm tired of this mafia stuff so I don't have time to dress up so I put on this mop I found on the trash bin." or whatever. But that appearance could also be 100% intentional, maybe he wanna look approachable to Tsuna sensing he'll become the head of the Vangolla and wanting to maintain a good alliance with them so he needs tsuna to like him, he also us aware he's staying around kids and don't wanna intimidate them with formal wear again because those kids are future mafia allies and he's counting a lot on their family in general. Or he just genuinely want to give a good impression because of he's a genuine guy and his family despite being mafia, have a pretty good reputation.

In conclusion. Dino can wear suits, we saw him in them, yet his appearance is mostly casual( but still gangsta, more like street gangsta, your local drug dealer not huge corporation like) , he still looks intimidating from a first glance until you get on his good side and discover he's a good guy. He could prefer this style over the other because it's cozier and more like him or because he wanna appear cozier and thinks that's the way to do it (altho he'd have made his men dress up to if that was the case). Whatever is the case, I just think it represents his personality a lot and his character in the series (as underrated as I feel it was) as well as the time era.

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Living Weapon Whumpee part 16

Warnings: forced living weapon/fighter, recovery whump, reluctant alliance, rejection by peers

Only this time he was working to earn respect from his peers. An impossible feat, considering his now-allies had hundreds of reasons to hate him. The list starting with killer and ending with Weapon.

"So... what are your names?" Whumpee tried to diffuse the tension. It seemed logical, to start learning what to call each man.

"...I'm Jake," the biggest of the men said gruffly, watching Whumpee through narrowed eyes. He had dark orange hair and hazel eyes, and wore a menacing scowl on his. "I am effectively the leader of the team under Flint's command. What I say goes. Period.” his void was deadpan and cold, and he jerked his chin toward the man on his left, a guy with brown hair and eyes. “That one is Reed, my second-in-command.”

"You can learn the rest of my group's names over time. Right now, it's the time of day that we would train in the fight room." He stood up from his chair, and the others eagerly copied him, nervously glancing at the living weapon.

Whumpee followed them as they filed out of the room, a full head higher than all but Jake, who was also exceptionally tall. It made him all the more intimidating to be around.

Whumpee didn't say a word as he followed the team to the training area, finding himself in a large room full of sparring weapons, punching bags, and some other machines for exercising.

"We usually split up and pick what area we feel we need to train more on," Jake explained, "whether it be physical fitness or honing battle skills."

Whumpee watched the other soldiers migrate to different areas, and decided to try the punching bags. He lined himself up at the nearest one and took a swing -- with a little too much power. His fist went straight through it, spraying sand all over the floor when he pulled his arm out in surprise.

He sheepishly glanced at the cluster of men getting ready to lift weights, who were all staring at him, faces pale with terror. Because that could have been someone's head on the battlefield. His face heated with embarrassment. He'd forgotten how strong he was.

Maybe that means I should work on gaining more finite control of my movements, he deduced, and moved to a second punching bag, giving it a few light taps to avoid accidentally smashing it to bits.

Each time he barely touched the bag, picking up speed with short, sharp punches. It felt unnatural to be holding back. He was used to going all out, using any means to win a fight.

Over an hour of practice passed before Jake announced the end of it, and while other soldiers were visibly tired and worn-out, Whumpee had barely broken a sweat. No one talked to or acknowledged his presence as they moved on to dinner, and then finally the shared sleeping quarters with beds lined along the walls.

Whumpee stayed awake for a long time after the lights switched off, and he could tell from the breathing patterns alone that several other men were too, shifting around restlessly -- probably unwilling to let their guards down and rest, lest he slit their throats in their sleep. A reasonable fear, considering who Whumpee was.

After a lot of tossing and turning, Whumpee managed to drift off.

He awoke the next morning to find himself alone. Everyone else had already left, no one bothering to wake him. Probably too scared to even approach.

Whumpee sighed wearily, getting up and padding out after slipping some shoes on. He got lost wandering the maze of halls in the facility, but eventually he successfully located the team he was with, who were gathered in a large room full of... games? Things like darts and pool and cards and so much more! He could hardly believe what he was seeing! It must be recreational free-time for the soldiers.

There were groups of two or three playing each game together, none of which invited him to join.

Whumpee didn't mind, at least that's what he told himself. Although... playing two-or-more player games did look rather fun. He was never allowed the simple luxury of entertainment under Leader's control.

But he knew asking to join would make everyone even more on-edge, so he refrained from it, deciding to throw darts at the board by himself to pass the time. Maybe once the soldiers grew more comfortable around him they'd invite him to play cards, though he'd never played before. They'd have to teach him.

Those first few days of existence were... rough. Everyone avoided Whumpee like the plague when possible, edgy and jumpy whenever he walked into a room. Steering clear when there was space to do so.

But the men were growing bolder and more confident the longer Whumpee was around, and it was on the fourth day that Whumpee faced his first round of genuine, direct trouble.

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @i-don't-know-sal @togzy

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222 @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

[moonspirit]

Hello Moon,

One thing I am keenly interested in your ideas on the Media depictions of Armin and the gang post-rumbling, I have some ideas I’d love to get your insight on

I think a lot of depictions of the events of the rumbling would always play Armin off as this l altruistic figure thrust into greatness. Eren in contrast would be depicted as a Richard 3rd style villan, plotting and scheming.

As Armin and Annie’s relationship became more public knowledge playwrites would really eat up the “star crossed lovers” separated by warring nations angle.

Unfortunately I think Annie and Pieck would often be the victims of some era typical sexism in their depictions as they would have their cold demeanor and tactical abilities respectivly toned down drastically. And I think a lot of times Hange would have them depicted as a man

Reiner and Connie would be depicted as comic relief charecters with Reiner depicted as a lumbering oaf and Connie as a constant jokester while Jean is portrayed as a dashing if not vain Casanovaesqe figure.

And in a bitter sweet way for Armin, Mikasa would often not be mentioned.

I would love to hear your ideas on this.

P.S. my apologies this is the lunatic in me going off again.

Hello anon!

I agree for the most part, given that the way things ended was how Eren chose for events to play out, hoisting the Alliance up on a pedestal as heroes to the world for stopping him. I believe that is the perception that will stick in the hearts of what remains of humanity. He came as a devil to finish the world and the Alliance saved them all.

While Eren couldn't have known what would happen after Mikasa killed him, Mikasa heading back to Paradis and Armin presenting himself as the man who killed Eren Jaeger basically seals Armin's fate. By taking on that title he kills several birds with one stone: in calling for and establishing an immediate ceasefire on Fort Salta, in shifting the balance of power and public favour over to the Alliance, in shouldering the weight of Eren's death, and most importantly, in keeping Mikasa's role and whereabouts a secret. We also cannot forget that he's still the Commander of Survey Corps, which only catapults his "status" in the eyes of the people. All of this might place him on an incredibly high up and important position in the political scene post-rumbling. It goes without saying then, that his altruism and empathy for the people of the post-rumbling world will not go unnoticed. He may be lauded even, for being a leader of a different ilk, and I see him as someone who makes sure he does a good job even if he doesn't enjoy what he's doing (but that's for another post).

So, right, I think Mikasa would live quietly and peacefully on Paradis because that's what she chose for herself and the world will not know of her role in the Rumbling at all.

Coming to Aruani... oh if their relationship is made public, there will be a hue and cry over it lol. I imagine the identities of the Alliance become public knowledge in due time, as in, that Armin, Jean and Connie come from Paradis; that Reiner, Pieck and Annie used to be Warriors from Marley, the titans they wielded, their past missions, their roles and etc. In light of all that, if it is known that Armin and Annie are in a relationship, then as you said, the press might do their best to inject the "star crossed lovers separated by a wall" fantasy (and tbh I don't blame them lmao xD). In fact there could be many headlines haha xD "Lovers who followed each other into the Rumbling", "The first public wedding between a Paradisian and Marleyan" and etc lmao.

(it wont be pleasant for them but my romantic heart loves it xD)

Interesting point about the sexism, btw. People have varying thoughts on when exactly the post-rumbling world is set in, (I personally hc the early 1930s), but irrespective of that, sexism has existed throughout history hasn't it? I'm no expert on period-typical sexism really, but I have no doubt Annie and Pieck are at the receiving end of some of it anyway. I think @annawayne can offer more insight on this, she knows a LOT!

As for Hange... since they die early into the Battle, the only way the world knows of them is whatever the Alliance makes known. I've spoken about this before, but I personally think Armin would speak very highly of Hange after their death, publicly and otherwise. Whatever he and the others and Levi too (if he ever comes into a situation where he cannot make a run from the spotlight and has to say something.... tho the poor man deserves to be as far away from the limelight as possible imo) say about Hange is what the world at large will know.

Jean is definitely a casanovaesque figure in the public-eye haha xD He pays too much attention to his looks to think otherwise. But I think he would present himself as such intentionally, it was always his desire to live a comfortable and luxurious life; he should get to live it too. (Tho sometimes I like to think Pieck and the others are always one step away from exposing his very loser vibes).

As for Reiner and Connie, I think it's easy to see them both as the cheerful types, especially the latter. Connie's always pleasant and grinning, with lighthearted conversation and terrible jokes to go with every situation. But Reiner was always forced (by none other than his circumstances and himself) to be a tough leader figure when in reality, he just wanted to be someone who could protect others. I still believe his cadet years on Paradis were some of his happiest, that persona of his was something true to his heart, and so I'd like to believe this side of him finally has a chance to exist freely in the post-rumbling world without any reasons to inhibit it. I think that together with his history of being the Armored Titan and the fact that he's older than the others, public perception would swing into the "He's really the protective big brother in the Alliance" direction.

Just don't let the press find out about his letter-sniffing habits.

xD That was long, but well, I hope you got something out of it!

[thelongestway]

I thought it would be one chapter for about half of this one, but no, it's going to be two.

The structure took me a while to figure out, too - I think this is the most formal epilogue to a long story I've ever done in my life.

Chapter 14: Plans

Indah cleared all planned engagements from my schedule for two days after the hostage incident. ("Go watch your shows in peace, SecUnit. I'm banning the terrorist spaceship from the station until further notice, and we can handle the humans just fine.") But my humans somehow managed to have an internal group rhythm of their own, and contacted me at annoyingly regular intervals, starting from the handover itself which was overseen by Mensah in her capacity as planetary admin (and probably in her capacity as my guardian, since I was the one who had been body-jacked). She was one of the contact group that met us at the Tenacious' primary body. It made my job easier, because I could use the appropriate codes to tell her that no, Dandelion didn't still have me compromised after she said she'd let go (and actually did let go), but also harder because now we'd have to change them, and changing security codes too often fucked up the humans' ability to use them correctly. This was annoying.

Even more annoying was that Mensah actually insisted on going onto the Tenacious to show a very agitated Captain Reed that no, the potential alliance didn't completely blow up in the Trellians' faces despite their medical officer's best efforts, and that meant Indah had to call me back in that same day, muttering about planetary leaders and their stupid stunts in the name of diplomacy. Dandelion wasn't at that meeting either, by her captain's order, which was kind of ridiculous because it was in her body and she could have run circles with surveillance around her humans if she wanted to. But apparently this research transport actually listened to humans telling her they wanted privacy, so the room in which the talks took place was itself shitty and feedless.

(Although it was pretty entertaining to watch Captain Reed open the conversation with "Dr. Mensah, as you may remember, yesterday I spent several hours assuring your work group that Dr. Tenacious was one of the most level headed people in the entirety of Arborea Cosmica. Well. All I can say is, I don't know what you think about the rest of us now."

It was a lot less entertaining to watch Mensah talk about her history of being held hostage by GrayCris and us having to break her out in order to get Reed to agree that it was the long-reaching consequences of Corporation Rim policies which ultimately led to the whole situation and that Trellin and Preservation should therefore remain friends. The fact that this worked on Captain Reed made me like kem a lot less. I did not like having to wrangle my humans into double rest periods.)

The next morning it was Pin Lee (who talked to me together with Indah in her role as my legal council; they agreed that if I refused to press charges against panicking humans, augmented humans, genetically augmented humans, or human-based constructs a third time, they'd start a betting pool on when I finally would). And then Bharadwaj, who was denied a direct conversation with Dandelion and the Public Universal Friend, had to resort to asking me about the new and exciting ways humans managed to fuck things up by turning themselves into constructs. (I told her these were old and very un-exciting ways. She didn't agree).

Then Ratthi poked at my feed until I agreed to go together with him to tell Gurathin about the whole situation because I was the one who had the best feed view and he would like to know all of the "technical details." (There weren't many interesting technical details. As far as interactions with bot pilots went, this one didn't even end in me getting surgery or having to put my brain back together). And because it was Ratthi, we wound up sitting somewhere uncomfortably loud while we talked. (Which wasn't the worst for anti-surveillance. I gave him that).

And then, when we were sitting in the uncomfortably loud place, we were approached by Dr. Mrinal. They waved awkwardly at Ratthi as they weaved through the crowd, and then stopped dead in their tracks when they saw me.

"Dr. Mrinal!" Ratthi said cheerfully. "Did you get that break sorted?"

"Faster than I've gotten one approved in my life. Longest one ever, too," they scoffed, and then said to me, "Sorry. The last time I saw you, you were being a zombie." They gave Gurathin a scathing look. "I told you people brain augmentations are a shitty idea."

Gurathin rolled his eyes.

"And I'll tell you again that there have been many times when if it weren't for someone with a functioning data jack and good processing speed, we'd be screwed so hard that the screw would've been stripped straight off. Case in point, SecUnit getting to talk down your doctor-slash-bot pilot just because it could actually keep up a conversation even while being a zombie."

"Oh, fuck you, Gurathin." Mrinal sat down, avoiding looking at me (which suited me just fine) and rubbed the back of their neck. "Right. SecUnit. Kind of good you're here, actually. I might have a request. Security tells me you're one of the people who has clearance to go on board the Tenacious?"

"Yes."

"There's. There's stuff the refugees wanted the… The Friend to have. Because… Because it saved them. Could I ask you to pass it on? It's not a lot. Just a small box. I was actually on my way to hand it to station security when I saw you three, but if it's going to end up with you anyway…"

"As long as it's not anything private. Everything in and out gets to be checked by security."

"Of course. I've been through the box myself. It's mostly stuff like hard currency cards and a couple of letters saying they're really grateful." Mrinal chewed on their lip. "I didn't know how to tell them it… Won't really appreciate that. So I didn't."

That was fucking bullshit.

Ratthi thought so, too, and said a little sharply: "You don't know that, Mrinal."

"Yeah?" They looked up, wincing. "You saw the damn scan. Even if it somehow wanted to become, well, that… the facts stand. It can't form bonds with people. What would it care for the people it saved?"

Ratthi groaned.

I was having an emotion, so I stood up and extended my hand.

"The box."

"Uh… Thank you?" Mrinal said and handed over a small metal box which sounded like it had lots of paper in it.

I turned and left.

[starlit-seadragon]

Day 19 - Taken

The Eorzean Alliance is yet young, though it has many allies.

Some of them are a little closer than others expected.

Set early post-SB

WC: 1453

Rated F for fluff?

My FFXIV Write Masterpost here.

Nanamo was the first to notice.

Had she not been seated next to Lord Aymeric, she might have missed the exchange entirely. Though the mountains in which Ala Mhigo were tucked cooled the air significantly, the day was still hot. For their privacy, the doors of the meeting room had been closed, but the windows remained open, curtains billowing lazily in the desperately-needed breeze. Outside the palace, far enough away that they could not hear, people milled about, performing various tasks.

Beside her, Lord Aymeric straightened suddenly and looked away from the conversation. Nanamo fought the urge to stare. She had not considered the present topic to be an offensive one, but perhaps there was a cultural difference with Ishgard that she was not aware of. She had a mind to inquire about it afterwards─and then watched him break into a radiant smile that was gone from his lips a moment latee but remained in his eyes.

Curious, Nanamo followed his line of sight.

Out the window, the Warrior of Light was walking past. When she caught Nanamo's eye, she waved. Nanamo waved a small hand back.

On her other side, Raubahn leaned forward.

"I must apologize, Your Grace, for not being engaging enough company to keep your focus," he teased.

"Your apology is accepted, Raubahn," Namao replied archly. "Pray rest assured you have my full focus─I merely chanced to espy our friend Shirayume through the window and was returning her greeting."

The other Alliance leaders turned in their seats to peer out the window. Now red-cheeked and smiling apologetically, Shirayume waved to them all. The leaders of the Alliance returned the gesture.

"Perhaps a short respite is called for" Kan-E suggested. "We have been in council for an extended period─a little fresh air and movement might do us good."

The group assented, agreeing to return at the next bell. Slowly, they rose, stretching and making small talk. Nanamo remained in her seat. Raubahn stood just behind his.

"Do you mean to remain here, Your Grace?"

"For a time, I think. I'll follow soon, Raubahn. I'd like to walk the garden. Pray take your leave."

"I should be glad to join you, Your Grace, when you do."

Nanamo smiled. "Then I shall meet you there shortly, my friend."

With that, he quit the room. Nanamo sat back in her seat and sighed. Though the long hours could be wearying, to have so many in the Alliance warmed her heart; these meetings gave her far less headache than did those of the Syndicate. With a prolonged yawn, she hopped down from her seat and rubbed her eyes.

Upon opening them, she noticed the Warrior of Light was still outside the window.

As was Lord Aymeric.

Shirayume beamed up at him, and he mirrored the expression as he spoke. She listened attentively, almost enrapt, one arm crossed over to hold the other, tail swaying gently back and forth. He was inclined towards her, bent slightly at the waist, lessening the distance between them. They did not touch as they spoke, but they stood so near to one another that a breeze could have pushed them into each other's arms.

Nanamo blinked, breath caught. She could not remember when she had last seen Shirayume smile so.

Footsteps announced someone's approach.

"Your Grace?" Raubahn asked. "Forgive me if I've disturbed you; I just wanted to see if you were all right."

Evidently, she'd been standing here longer than she thought.

Raubahn approached her, looking to where her attention had been focused. When he caught sight of the pair outside, he inhaled sharply.

Eyes still on them, he asked in a low voice, "Do you think they're...?"

"Without a doubt," Nanamo confirmed, turning her gaze back towards them.

"I must admit to some surprise. I never would have expected such a match."

Nanamo looked up at him. "No? Whyever not?"

Raubahn scratched his chin. "It feels somewhat foolish to say aloud, but given how long Ishgard had been absent from the Alliance, I expected it would take a longer period of time for them to 'warm to us,' so to speak."

Nanamo smiled. "They may still be warming to us, my friend. But I believe it quite apparent that Lord Aymeric has warmed to *her.*"

They did not hear other Alliance leaders approach until Merlwyb spoke behind them, "Well. That certainly explains the Grand Melee."

"Do you suspect it has been going on since then?" Kan-E murmured.

"For such a strong affection? It must have begun well before."

Kan-E nodded, brow pinched. "He seems quite taken with her."

"Can you fault him for it?" Merlwyb asked. "She has a way of disarming shuttered hearts."

"Has he the shuttered heart, or is it Ishgard who possesses it?"

"Well," Lyse drew out the word as she reached the group and joined their observation. Her cheeks widened with her grin. "I see their time apart has done very little to change their feelings for one another."

Nanamo, Raubahn, Merlwyb, and Kan-E all turned to look at her as one. The grin dropped off Lyse's face. A flush spread over her cheeks.

"...I don't suppose you could pretend you didn't hear that."

After a moment, Kan-E touched a hand to her chest. "Did they intend to conceal it indefinitely?"

Lyse huffed out a laugh. "Only from themselves. There's nothing happening between them. At least, I don't think there is. Though... Yume didn't really talk about what happened during their camping trip..."

"Camping trip?" The group echoed, brows raised.

A tense silence followed.

"Oh gods," Lyse muttered. She cleared her throat and raised her hands, fingers splayed in defense. Her eyes darted wildly between them.

"Look, it's really none of our business, is it?"

Merlwyb crossed her arms. "Ordinarily, I would agree. In this case, however, there is somewhat more at stake. The star can ill-afford its champion playing favorites."

Lyse's voice was hard and sharp as a blade. "She wouldn't. You know she wouldn't."

The silence that descended smothered like the heat.

Lyse scoffed. Her hands clenched at her sides "Has she ever given you cause to doubt her before? What of when she was an adventurer based in Gridania? Did she play favorites then?"

The other leaders exchanged a look.

"She did not," Kan-E conceded, slow and even-toned, "but this situation does not quite compare."

Lyse shook her head. "I don't believe this."

"Mistress Hext is right," Nanamo interjected. "We ought to trust in our friends and allies. We are all of us adults. Since Ishgard's rejoining of the Eorzean Alliance, Lord Aymeric has been naught but a staunch ally."

"A little before that, even," Raubahn admitted.

"And that aside," she continued, "Shirayume deserves our confidence in her. As our friend and hero, we owe her the benefit of the doubt."

Kan-E, Raubahn, and Merlwyb looked to the floor. Lyse leaned against the window sill.

"And... just look at her," Lyse said softly.

They did. Aymeric spoke with animation, and in response Yume laughed so heartily that a few other people around them turned to look.

"Even if it doesn't go anywhere..." Lyse said. "The Twelve know there's been enough misery lately... we can afford them a little bit of happiness, can't we? Just a little."

She threw them an imploring look. They acquiesed with tight smiles. Nanamo met Lyse's eyes with open regard.

"We should certainly make an effort to," Nanamo agreed. Lyse returned her smile.

The bell struck then.

All in the meeting room turned towards the open window to find Aymeric and Shirayume, looking back at them with disquiet. Only Lyse had the presence of mind to duck to the side, out of sight.

Their gazes held a moment longer before Shirayume's lips moved inaudibly. Aymeric turned to look at her and then nodded stiffly before walking away. Shirayume turned in the opposite direction. She did not look back to the window.

Moments later, Aymeric reappeared in the meeting room's doorway. His face was a mask of composure, the only sign of his discomfiture the redness in his cheeks.

"Shall we proceed?" he asked calmly as he took his seat. Without another word, he took up a quill and scanned the parchment in front of him.

The other Alliance leaders remained standing, staring at one another.

Finally, in strode Lord Hien, whistling an airy tune. He stopped short as he took in the scene before him.

With a hint of confusion, he spoke, "I... trust all had a pleasant and refreshing recess?"

Nanamo chuckled as she retook her seat. "Some of us more than others, I expect."

Aymeric froze, quill mid-air. Lyse smirked.

"But pray," she said. "Let us return to business."

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓃮 Even the Sun Influences the Tide: Chapter Eight

Even the Sun Influences the Tide: After the death of your foster brother, King T’Challa, you had spent much of your year of mourning in isolation. When your mother gathers you and your sister to end your mourning period, you encounter the newest threat to Wakanda: Namor. You don’t know what to think of Namor, but you do know one thing: he probably shouldn’t be making trips to see you at your beach hut.

Warnings: None.

To Note: Namor/K’uk’ulkan x Fem!Reader, I Tried To Make The Yucatec Maya & Xhosa Translations/Traditions As Accurate As I Can Get.

Word Count: ~2.4k

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K’uk’ulkan had kissed you deeply one last time, not being able to help himself after staying away from you for so long. You thought you were going to pass out from the heat burning beneath your cheeks at the intensity of his kiss… but no, you were just left in a daze. Then he guided you out of the tent, eager and looking forward to seeing you in the traditional wedding attire of his people. He had only ever seen you in the simple clothes you wore while living in your hut, and dressed in the clothing Namora had prepared for you? He had an almost impossible time taking his eyes off your beautiful form, let alone keeping his hands from wandering. K’uk’ulkan could only imagine what you would look like dressed in the traditional ceremonial garb. Calling for Namora, he spoke a few quick sentences in his native tongue, informing her of what he needed her to do for you. Namora was shocked to say the least, but she was pleased that you were making an effort to end the violence between your people. So with a promise to take good care of you, Namora bowed her head and guided you back the way you both had come.

You didn’t speak Yucatec Maya and didn’t have Griot with you, so you had no idea what had transpired between Namora and K’uk’ulkan. At the very least when you were brought to the room you had woken, you were surrounded by more blue skinned women, and not hardened soldiers. That was a good sign, wasn’t it? More rapid fire illusive words were exchanged, the faces of the women soon glowing with excitement and happiness. You felt more reassured by their reactions and your shoulders relaxed. Then two of the women approached you, taking your hands and tugging you in the direction of another hall. You glanced back at Namora with wide eyes, but she only nodded her head at you.

You trusted Namora, so you would trust these women.

The women had led you to a hot springs that bubbled and gurgled with steam and mist, inviting and making your body ache. You needed a moment to relax. You were going to get one because the women, Zyanya and Tlalli as they had told you, were carefully stripping you out of the dress you wore and motioning for you to step down into the warm water.

You had long since gotten used to bathing naked around other women, it was a common practice at the hot springs in Wakanda… but you couldn’t hold back your nerves this time. Not when you were such an outsider. You felt self conscious of your body, of your skin, of your being. Neither Zyanya nor Tlalli made any inclination at being judgmental over what they saw, busying themselves around you as you submerged yourself into the water. Wrapping your arms around your folded knees, you closed your eyes and took several deep and calming breaths.

You were alone, surrounded by the enemy of Wakanda, whose leader you had just shared a very intimate kiss with, and without a plan. You had also just agreed to a ceremony you knew nothing about.You might as well have sold your soul to the devil… but it if prevented needless death, you would take it. Yet you had thoughts of doubt, you were the ordinary one in the family. The black sheep whom T’Chaka and Ramonda had welcomed with open arms years ago. You didn’t know the first thing about how to make an alliance or be diplomatic, you never had the need to learn despite it being your choice of action. It wasn’t like you were ever going to be an influential figure from the royal family. At least you were smoothing things over with K’uk’ulkan, that was good. You were doing something right.

Hands gently stroked your hair and began to run scoops of water over the strands, soaking them and combing them. You were reminded of the times Ramonda had lovingly washed your hair for you when you were but a child, combing your hair neatly before braiding the strands in one of the many traditional styles of your new home. For a moment, you felt a flicker of homesickness. You had spent so much time trying to get away from your family to lesson your hurt, only to start wanting their company the moment you had the space you desperately craved. Were they even looking for you? Or were you simply assumed to be running from confronting the pain you had been stewing in for an entire year?

Those thoughts made your lip wobble and you harshly pressed them together to stop yourself from being consumed the sadness you had battled for so long. You were stronger than this, you had burned your funeral clothing. It was time to let go. Fingers began combing something that smelled nice, into your hair, lovingly tending to your hair and overall treating you with respect and reverence. Then Tlalli began massaging perfumed oils into your skin and you loosened up, letting her maneuver your limbs and treat every inch of your skin with devotion. You let them. It was probably part of a ritual, such as cleansing your body for the ceremony, or preparing your spirit in one way or another.

By the time your skin was buttery soft and a pearlescent sheen for being massaged and treated so delicately, your hair was fully washed and combed and you were being helped out of the hot springs. A beautiful stitched and embroidered robe was held open and you happily allowed them to cover your naked, damp skin with it, relishing the softness of the material. Led back to the cavern full of women, your jaw went slack.

While you had been bathing, they had been very busy. There was now a space where several women were fussing over white fabric, needles and silver thread in hand. A corner now had a table with several jars and brushes, squabbling women standing in front of it with scrolls of symbols… your eyes then caught a few boxes of jewelry, all a bright and vibrant jade that matched the ones K’uk’ulkan wore. Your hand was taken and you were led over to the jewelry.

You curiously looked around at the beautiful pieces, wondering how you were to wear some of them as they were obviously body piercing pieces. Then a women turned around and brandished a needle. Your eyes went wide and you gulped, panic washing through your body. Apparently you had unconsciously stepped backward, as you backed right into Namora. She gave you a soft smile and gestured for you to sit down. You wanted to whimper but held it back as you reluctantly sat down and nervously eyed the woman with the needle.

Less than a minute later, after one of the women had demonstrated that they could, in fact, pierce your body with little to no pain, you were allowing them to pierce the places they wished. The Talokanil had created a compound that numbed the surrounding flesh almost instantly, enabling for fast and painless piercing. Your ears were the first to be done, an industrial bar, much like Namora’s being placed along with an orbital, several helix and cartilage ones. You were fairly sure most of the argument the ladies ended up embroiled in, were about what jewelry would look best on you. You took comfort in the fact that they cared about placement.

Then they had wanted to pierce your septum. You had to resist screaming when the needle drew close to your face, but again, you felt no pain, and a beautiful vibranium ring had been placed. You had to admit that you liked the look in the mirror. The patterns in the metal reminded you of those you saw in the mayan murals and upon the fabrics around you. Shuri was going to like your new look, that you knew. Your mother? She was going to do a double take and possibly balk at your appearance. That wasn’t to say she would hate them, but she would probably want you to have piercings from Wakanda, not from the people who she was convinced were a threat to both you and her people. But what had you on edge the most, was when they moved to pierce your lip.

You panicked once more and Namora had come over, soothing you and reassuring you in the language you didn’t understand. You hated that you needed to hold her hand as they pierced your lip, adding a lip ring that divided your lower lip in half. When it was done, with no pain which you once again felt silly about, you were left staring into a handheld mirror in wonder. You looked like a completely other woman, with a tribal elegance. You looked different, more mature, regal, elegant in an ancestral way… but you felt that you now looked more like yourself than you ever had.

Someone took your hand, and you were tugged to your feet. Brought over to the women who had been arguing over markings on several scrolls, you were sat down once more, only this time, you were confronted with paint brushes. Your right foot was grabbed and held out, and then you watched with wide eyes as they started painting swirls of crimson on your body. You didn’t understand what the purpose of the symbols were, but you could figure out that they were probably a part of their culture, so you let them paint to their hearts content. Even when they tugged at your robe to get to your upper thighs, back, and stomach. They wouldn’t put so much time and effort into it if it wasn’t important.

You were perfectly fine with the paint, it just itched as it dried on your skin and you had to force yourself not to scratch the flesh where beautiful lines of red had been artistically drawn. Before they moved onto your back, your hair was once again brushed out before being braided back from your face. Once your hair was out of the way, the paintbrushes descended onto your back, and it tickled. You found yourself biting down on your lip, which only made you remember that you had a lip piercing now. Your mother was going to do a double take when she saw you, you were now certain. You also entertained the idea that she wouldn’t take kindly to you going off and doing some ceremony you didn’t know anything about, just for the sake of peace. But at the same time, hadn’t she lost enough family, enough people, already? Someone had to do something.

That happened to be you. 

While you were staring off into space, wondering what your mother would think about what you were about to do, the Talokanil finished up their work and began fussing over the outfit you were to wear. It was a handmaid of course, embroidered with equally white thread to accentuate the red and green adorning your body. When it came time to dress you, you were herded behind a screen and the robe tugged from your body. Your cheeks blazed with fire while you cradled your arms to your painted chest. The moment you saw white fabric you were relieved to be dressed in something.

The white gossamer material was dropped over your head and blue fingers were quickly holding onto your arms while they tied the sleeves and the neckline of the fluttering fabric against your skin. While they were fussing over the ties and plucking at white fabric, you came to a realization: undo the ties resting off your shoulders, and the dress could very easily be pulled from your body… you weren’t going to have to do anything naked… were you? You might draw the line at that.

“Really should have thought this through,” You fretted to yourself. Desperation for peace had convinced you to jump the gun so to speak, but if this worked, you would have no regrets. So you let them fuss over you until they were happy and chittering in Yucatec Mayan. The screen was pushed to the side and you picked at the cuticles of your left hand.

“In reina,”(My queen) You took in a deep breath, realizing that you could no longer stall. You twisted on the ball of your foot to see Namora standing next two others holding a large mirror. Your reflection caught your breath. You recognized yourself, your reflection, but this was the first time you had felt like you were someone. Not necessarily someone important, but someone. You didn’t feel like you were going to fade into the background, forgotten like so many times before. Between your plentiful new piercings, the pure white gossamer of the off the shoulder dress, and the red markings upon your skin, you found yourself staring at your reflection with a faraway expression.

“Ki'ichpanech,”(You are beautiful) One of the women murmured, the others nodded. Your skin prickled from the chill in the air and you finally looked to Namora.

“K’uk’ulkan?” You asked softly, knowing that she would at least know what you were indicating with his name.

“Chukpaxten, In reina,” (Follow me) She responded with a nod. The women who had helped you made the hand gesture you were now associating with a sign of respect. You felt compelled to return the gesture and did so, carefully raising your hands and copying their actions. Bright smiles appeared not heir faces and you turned to follow Namora, grabbing the skirt of your dress so you didn’t trip. As you walked, you saw flashes of red from your legs, bright and vibrant compared to the white skirts you held away from them. You hoped that you didn’t get any of the paint on the dress. It’d look like a bloody mess.

The path that Namora followed led back to the cavern where K’uk’ulkan was working on murals, that you knew… but there was a change of scent in the air. As if someone had burned incense. It tickled your nose and you forced yourself not to sneeze. Upon entering the cavern with the murals, you stopped short, your eyes widening. The space was clouded with the smoke from what had to be incense. There was now what looked like an alter set up with several items placed on a table. Colored flowers were placed at four points, red, yellow, purple, and white.

“Mayor,” (Elder) Namora spoke, bowing to an older looking Talokanil who stood draped in traditional garb.

“What am I getting myself into,” You whispered as the eyes of elder Talokanil gazed upon you. This all looked very… official. Fear crept into your veins.  Of course it did. This was a serious alliance you were negotiating/commencing, you had to respect their traditions. If you screwed this up, you felt like you were dooming your nation to certain war.

Date Published: 4/23/23

Last Edit: 4/2/23

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[sunshinesmebdy]

Balancing the Scales: Asteroid Mony in Libra and its Influence on Business Wisdom

In the intricate dance of celestial bodies, astrology has long been regarded as a tool for gaining insights into various aspects of life, including business and finance. One celestial player that holds particular significance is the asteroid Mony, with its current positioning in the zodiac sign of Libra. In this blog article, we delve into the mystical realm of astrology to explore the potential effects of asteroid Mony in Libra on business and finance. So, fasten your seatbelts as we embark on a cosmic journey into the world of economic energies guided by the stars.

Understanding Asteroid Mony:

Asteroid Mony, also known as Monya, is a celestial body that astrologers believe can influence financial matters and wealth accumulation. Its placement in different zodiac signs is thought to bring specific qualities and energies to the forefront. Currently stationed in Libra, the sign of balance and harmony, Mony’s cosmic influence takes on a unique and intriguing dimension.

Harmony and Negotiation in Business:

Libra is ruled by Venus, the planet of love and beauty, emphasizing aesthetics, balance, and negotiation. With Mony in Libra, businesses may find themselves more attuned to the principles of harmony in their operations. This celestial alignment suggests that negotiations and partnerships will be crucial for success during this period. Entrepreneurs and business leaders are encouraged to seek win-win situations and adopt a diplomatic approach to financial dealings.

Real-life example: A global technology firm, recognizing the need for collaboration during the Mony in Libra transit, engaged in diplomatic negotiations with international partners. By fostering a harmonious working relationship, they successfully navigated complex regulatory landscapes, enabling smoother market entry and expansion.

Balancing the Financial Scales:

Libra is symbolized by the scales, representing justice, fairness, and balance. When Mony aligns with Libra, it can inspire individuals and businesses to reevaluate their financial strategies, ensuring that they are fair and just. This celestial alliance encourages fiscal responsibility and ethical financial practices, fostering a sense of equilibrium in the business world.

Real-life example: A financial institution, inspired by the celestial alliance of Mony in Libra, initiated a review of its lending practices. They implemented fair interest rates and transparent terms, ensuring that their financial strategies aligned with principles of justice and fairness. This not only improved customer trust but also contributed to long-term financial stability.

Creativity and Aesthetic Ventures:

Venus, as the ruler of Libra, also brings a touch of creativity and aesthetic appreciation to the forefront. Businesses may find that investing in artistic ventures or incorporating aesthetic elements into their products and services could prove beneficial during this cosmic alignment. Appealing to the senses and focusing on the visual aspect of branding may be key to capturing the market’s attention.

Real-life example: An innovative tech startup, recognizing the influence of Mony in Libra, revamped its product design to incorporate aesthetically pleasing elements. The redesigned user interface not only enhanced the user experience but also attracted a broader audience, leading to increased market share and improved financial performance.

Strategic Financial Planning:

As Libra is known for its strategic thinking and analytical approach, the combination of Mony and Libra suggests that meticulous financial planning will be rewarded. Businesses are encouraged to analyze their financial structures, investments, and expenses with a discerning eye. Strategic decision-making and calculated risks could lead to financial success during this celestial alignment.

Real-life example: A manufacturing company, guided by the analytical approach of Libra and Mony’s influence, implemented a comprehensive financial planning strategy. This involved a thorough analysis of production costs, strategic investments in technology, and calculated risks in entering new markets. The result was increased operational efficiency and significant revenue growth.

While skeptics may dismiss astrology as mere superstition, many individuals find solace and guidance in its teachings. The alignment of asteroid Mony in Libra offers a unique perspective on business and finance, encouraging businesses to embrace balance, harmony, and strategic thinking in their financial endeavors. Whether you’re a firm believer in astrology or simply intrigued by its mystique, exploring the cosmic influences on business can be a fascinating journey that adds a touch of celestial magic to the world of commerce.

Here are some tips for navigating this transit:

Embrace Diplomacy in Negotiations: During the transit of asteroid Mony in Libra, prioritize diplomatic and harmonious negotiations. Seek win-win situations, and approach business dealings with a spirit of cooperation and compromise. Building positive relationships will contribute to long-term success.

Reevaluate Financial Strategies with Fairness: The scales of Libra symbolize justice and balance. Take this opportunity to review your financial strategies and ensure they are fair and just. Consider implementing ethical financial practices, as this alignment encourages businesses to operate with integrity and transparency.

Strategic Financial Planning is Key: Libra’s strategic thinking, combined with Mony’s financial influence, calls for meticulous financial planning. Analyze your financial structures, investments, and expenses with precision. Develop a strategic roadmap that aligns with your business goals, helping you navigate potential challenges and seize opportunities.

Incorporate Aesthetics for Market Appeal: Venus, the ruler of Libra, brings a creative and aesthetic touch to the transit. Consider incorporating visual appeal into your products, services, or branding. Aesthetically pleasing elements can capture the attention of your target audience and set your business apart in the competitive market.

Foster Equilibrium in Business Operations: Strive for balance in all aspects of your business. Whether it’s balancing budgets, workloads, or team dynamics, maintaining equilibrium is crucial during this celestial alignment. Avoid extremes and find the middle ground to create a stable and sustainable business environment.

Cultivate Ethical Financial Practices: Libra’s influence emphasizes fairness and ethical considerations. Evaluate your financial practices to ensure they align with ethical standards. Adopting transparent and morally sound financial practices not only resonates positively with stakeholders but also contributes to long-term business stability.

Explore Artistic Ventures for Innovation: Leverage the creative energy brought forth by Mony in Libra to explore artistic ventures within your business. Whether it’s incorporating artistic elements into your marketing campaigns or investing in creative projects, tapping into the realm of aesthetics can lead to innovative solutions and heightened consumer engagement.

Be Mindful of Timing in Financial Decisions: Libra is associated with balance and timing. When making significant financial decisions, consider the timing carefully. Waiting for the opportune moment and aligning your actions with the natural flow of cosmic energies can enhance the success of your financial endeavors.

By incorporating these tips into your business strategies, you can harness the positive energies associated with asteroid Mony in Libra, creating a harmonious and prosperous path for your business and financial ventures.

[swinging-through-the-stars]

Okay, Sith!Luke au sounds incredible!!! I haz questions

What's Din's whole perspective on things? Is he (like canon) blissfully unaware of who and what Luke is? Does he know and just not care? Is he just doing anything to protect Grogu, only to realize that the 'teacher' is very dangerous but has also imprinted on Din just as much as Din has fallen for him?

What about Grogu? Does he understand the darkness in Luke? Is he averse to it? Or does he go all in on the dark side to protect his dad?

OOOOHHH YES YES YES I'd LOVE to get into Din and Grogu stuff! (I'm realizing this will be another long one so there's your warning lol)

As for Din --

In my AU, after the Death Star blows up in 0 ABY, Luke begins to take personal undercover missions to continue undermining the Empire. To stay anonymous, he hires an untraceable mercenary that doesn't ask questions and is also not fond of the Empire - this is where Din Djarin comes in. (Din doesn't have a lot developed pre-Mando season 1 other than he's been bounty-hunting - and before that - taking mercenary jobs for a while, so why not utilize that for a story I want?) While working with Luke in this time period, Din has absolutely no idea who Luke is other than he carries a "red laser-sword" and doesn't show his face. He knows Luke as The Stranger, and for a few years takes jobs from Luke since he pays very well (that Empire money eh). Din is vaguely aware that his jobs have small impacts on the war against the Empire, so he is fine with complying, especially since they are relatively low-risk.

Things take a turn in 4 ABY when Luke hires Din to rescue Han Solo from Jabba's Palace. (one of the few pieces of fic I finished -- FREE SOLO) In this mission, Din sees Luke's face, learns his name (however doesn't recognize it from anywhere), and learns that he KNOWS specific people that a key to the rebellion (Lando, Han Solo, Leia, Chewbacca). The whole ordeal puts Din in more trouble than he bargains for. Luke declares an end to their business relationship because of this and cuts Din off, but it doesn't kill Din's festering curiosity as to who Luke is. He doesn't pursue further, but that curiosity lingers until they meet again.

Luke and Din meet again in a way that mirrors the end of Season 2 of Mando (because I thought it was a fun idea, and YES I have managed to write that out too -- SHADOW ON THE BRIDGE). This is where Din learns that Luke is not only a Sith, but the EMPEROR of the Neo Empire. I've been (ever so slowly) updating the fic of the aftermath of that, where Din meets with Luke again and where they begin to have those conversations of what will happen to Grogu.

In this next fic - First Steps into Darkness - I do want to explore how Din takes up the mantle of Mand'alor and how he uses his previous relationship with Luke to rebuild his world and also create an alliance to further push the Imperial Remnant threat out of the galaxy. Din deals with opinions about this from all sides, from Bo-Katan who has a difficult time trusting Luke, to Din's Clan that are between against and neutral on the matter. (Also keep in mind that I've been planning this part of the story before Mando S3 -- I do use some aspects of S3 but also very much divert from it).

What keeps Din coming back to Luke is ultimately his curiosity, both in Luke's abilities as a leader/negotiator and in him being this mysterious entity. Luke's fervor for his religion, his quest for familial answers, his internal battle of identity -- these are all things that Din relates to. (Luke's a bit more of a hot mess than Din is but -- you know, they have commonalities that they can lean on).

I also really like the concept of the Darksaber having its own sort of Force sentience to the point where Din has to work with it (it's a little like Haunted!Din but instead of outright possession it's more like -- Venom, or something like that, where they work together). Having Luke as a resource to navigate that territory further connects the two.

Needless to say, despite what rumors and warnings Din has been given, he doesn't understand why the "Dark Side" of the Force is considered the "bad" Force and why the "Light Side" is considered the "good". Perhaps it's because he's only really interacted with Luke, and perhaps it's because Mandalorians have a checkered history with getting along with "Light Side" Jedi users as well. His perspective could be biased or he probably just believes that Luke is not what others want to make him seem. Either way, the fact that Luke is a Sith doesn't necessarily make Din distrust him outright, especially since he's the only one that will agree to help hone Grogu's powers.

OKAY, ONTO GROGU -- YEAH THERE'S MORE --

Since's Luke's appearance in rescuing them from Gideon's Cruiser, Grogu is INTRIGUED with Luke and the pull to the Dark Side. In his little mind, Luke is powerful, really cool, and can make Gideon pee his pants -- of course he sees that and goes "ooh I wanna be like that guy".

First Steps into Darkness, while I mentioned will go into some of Din's story, will ultimately be a focus on Grogu (when I eventually finish it lol). I think child characters (especially cute bait like Grogu) often get the short end of the stick in terms of development, and it's SUCH a missed opportunity in my eyes. Children have very simple and blunt observations, and they SOAK up the world around them -- putting the mess of Sith Luke and through GROGU'S perspective is so fun to me.

Luke is not afraid of teaching Grogu, but he's afraid of Grogu idolizing him like HE did Vader. Despite Luke's attachment to his father, Vader was -- NOT really the best father, and deep down Luke knows that and is afraid. He keeps a distance from Grogu that Grogu is always trying to close. Grogu knows that Luke is just a teacher and that he's often not very personable with him. But Grogu sees how Luke's power has the ability to protect, he sees something in him like did with Din (who was also not very warm at first). Grogu believes that if he learns what Luke knows, he can too can become that protector that can stop wars and help those he cares about.

Grogu also continues to learn from Din about Mandalorian culture, so he isn't completely split between one or the other -- in fact, Luke encourages Din to keep sharing his roots with his son. The teachings of both Mandalorians and Sith are eventually the teachings that shape Grogu's perspective on loyalty, emotions, power, and so on. He's observant as hell, so he soaks everything up like a SPONGE.

And let's be honest, the Grogu realizing he could learn some tricks that maybe the Jedi forbade sounds a bit fun to him. He is still a kid after all.

Sorrynotsorry that was long -- I love talking about these concepts, and honestly answering these questions is helping me type out my thoughts to use as reference later. It's getting me fired up to keep writing and editing too.

Thank you again for the questions @just-prime -- I hope you found this interesting!!

[needlesandnilbogs]

for the ask game about fic backstory. i've only read one of your mirrorverse fics so you might have covered this somewhere, but i'm curious: how did mirror!mensah come to power?

okay so I have in fact written two fics in which some aspect of this is revealed but other than those two fics a lot of this is either in my head or scattered across discord (the timeline I was kinda keeping for a while has disappeared lol) so here goes trying to form it into a shortened-and-broad-strokes narrative:

(I can and will go into more depth about any of these parts. Just try me. also this feels very in-world-document-y but that wasn't totally on purpose) (it's long so it gets a read more)

The Alliance Period (Salvation Pre-Empire)

The Salvation Alliance was founded nearly 200 years ago, by a group of colonists escaping the Corporate Empires and the constant war. They settled on a lush planet near two already-inhabited planets in the same system, and their ship, the Salvation, became the first station.

Within a year, they had so cowed their neighbors that the rest of the system fell easily under the banner of the Salvation Alliance and the promise of peace and an end to the corporates.

One of the small group of leaders, Consuela Makeba, protested this decision, but her speech went largely ignored. It certainly did not appeal to the newly formed Salvation Council, who had her imprisoned and executed as the Alliance's first traitor.

The Salvation Council was an oligarchy, though they liked to pretend they weren't. A few seats were won, here and there, by young progressive candidates who had grand dreams of changing everything, but for hundreds of years, the status quo remained set. A place to live and food for all, just as in another universe, but contingent on the understanding that if you were not working for Salvation's benefit, you didn't deserve more than the very barest of minimums.

One of these young upstart progressives was Dr. Ayda Mensah, a charismatic and well-known exoecologist who was quickly elected to her local governing council, and a few years later to the Salvation Council.

The Coup

Dr. Mensah, it must be understood, had been planning since the instant she'd been elected to her local council, if not earlier. She wanted power, and she didn't care who stood in her way.

She was methodical about it; quiet convincing where possible, the sort of thing nobody would dare call her out on. Bribery, blackmail, siccing her good friend the up and coming prosecutor Pin-Lee on them, all those little ways of influencing votes in her favor.

Within three years after her appointment to the council, she'd amassed enough of a power base to be appointed Planetary Administrator, head of the council for the term. At this point, she and her partners had a two-year-old child and another on the way, which certainly had an impact on her re-election campaign strategies.

A few months into her second year as Planetary Administrator and fourth year on the council, she was on a survey with a handful of other members of the SalvationAux survey team, mostly flunkies and interns (and, of course, the Chief Prosecutor of the Salvation Alliance, there because of course Pin-Lee wasn't letting Mensah go alone), when things went to heck.

The only reason they survived at all was the actions of rogue EnforcerUnit Saviorbot, who saved the whole survey team. In gratitude (and because it was such a useful thing, to have a friend with guns in its arms), Mensah and Pin-Lee arranged to purchase it and free it. It followed them back to Salvation, and became Mensah's constant bodyguard and close confidant.

Within a year, several people took offense to the centralization of power and the existence of an EnforcerUnit on Salvation, and began a pitiful rebellion which announced itself with rioting at the Oakepark Factory Complex, an event which is still marked as a solemn tragedy by many. (A certain Makeba Rebellion, it and its leader named for Consuela Makeba's protest speech, celebrates this day as a sign of victory, and notes that there were zero deaths and less than a dozen casualties, which the Empire tends to brush over in favor of the tragic reduction in production capacities.)

Things continued on with a sort of stalemate for a while, Administrator Mensah continuing to ensure the council complied and the rebellion continuing to try to depose her, until Saviorbot discovered transmissions from a rebel cell linked to both the rebellion's spymaster Hope and one Councilmember Sonje.

Mensah and Pin-Lee and Saviorbot, in an attempt to centralize power even further, decided enough was enough. After a devastating rebel attack on the council, which just so happened to kill the biggest opponents to a unilateral power grab, Mensah ordered the council dissolved and all administration to run through her office.

Within a week, she was crowned as Salvation's first Empress, with her partners crowned as Queen- and Monarch-Consort and her seven-year-old eldest daughter given the title of Crown Princess Amena. In deference to the age of her children (seven and five, at the time), Mensah named Solicitor Pin-Lee, who was already the Chief Prosecutor, the next in the line of succession, and bestowed upon her the title of the Hand of the Law; in turn, Saviorbot was granted the title of Chief Enforcer and given responsibility for the security of the newly-renamed Salvation Empire.

(Side note, part of how Mensah kept control over the ex-councilmembers was by offering each of them and many other politicians a guaranteed position for them in the new administration. Some of these positions, for those with children, are now considered inherited positions, meaning it's guaranteed to be passed down to their children, and others aren't, so when people eventually retire from non inherited positions, those posts will be filled by other children of government officials who Mensah thinks will do well there. She's basically going back to nepotism and hereditary nobility as a way to keep those people from joining the rebellion. Meanwhile her strategy for dealing with the broader populace is pretty much ensuring they have everything they need, propagandizing the heck out of everything, and creating opportunities for advancement into administrative positions that can be used as rewards for the most loyal. Textbook bread and circuses plus carrots and sticks.)

The first main mirrorverse story, Preservation, picks up about eight years since that coup, which is also four years since the martyr Tradition died, and the second and third main stories take place over the next two years. At the point the fourth story starts, it's been about ten and a half years since the coup, in which time court politics have become exponentially more complicated as people vie for Mensah's favor. (She encourages this. Plotting against each other means that they aren't plotting against her.) Also, Amena's almost a legal adult by the third and fourth stories, which means she's almost old enough to actually take over if Mensah can't rule somehow.

[themattress]

Fire Emblem: Three Houses

Continued from my last post.

Ending September with Chapter 6, the one that actually transpires in September!

- Let's not mince words here: Chapter 6 is in the running for my favorite chapter in the game. This primarily comes down to one thing: the mood. We have a lovable character in Flayn who has gone missing, with rumors spreading that she was abducted, quite possibly by the deathly visage said to be haunting the grounds outside the monastery. Because of this, your exploration period is all about trying to search for clues to her disappearance and gathering suspects based on accounts of suspicious activity, all while this fucking music is playing:

That music does brilliantly at creating the atmosphere, conveying both a sense of urgency and a sense of dread, making you feel unsure who to trust as you run around interrogating people and desperately trying to solve this dark mystery. It never fails to give me chills.

- The suspects you end up with are Tomas (based on Leonie's account), Shamir (based on Petra's account), Professor Manuela (based on Dorothea's account), Professor Hanemann (based on Linhardt's account), Jeritza (based on Felix's account), Sir Alois (based on Raphael's account), and Sir Gilbert (based on Ingrid's account), with some other inhabitants of the Monastery also pointing the finger at the Death Knight, Dedue, the people of Abyss or even Flayn herself. Obviously some of these possibilities are more likely than others (really, was there any player that thought Alois might be responsible?), but it all does a great job creating the sense of a whodunnit with all the various people and potential motives raised.

- The Blue Lions route has an exclusive scene before the exploration period that serves as a funny pseudo red herring where Byleth and Dedue come across Dimitri in the library late at night. When Byleth checks the book that Dimitri had been looking at, they see it's all about the financial donations to Garreg Mach by Lord Arundel, making you wonder if Dimitri suspects Arundel to be involved in Flayn's disappearance. It later turns out that no, this was related only to Dimitri's quest for answers concerning the Tragedy of Duscur...except that Arundel actually was the one ultimately behind Flayn's kidnapping anyway! Ironic, isn't it?

- The culprit, of course, ends up being Jeritza who it turns out is the Death Knight, whom the Flame Emperor loaned out to Arundel back at the end of Chapter 4. The underground lair beneath Jeritza's quarters is swarming with Agarthan mages and Flame Emperor soldiers who join the Death Knight in trying to keep you from rescuing Flayn and another girl being kept hostage. If your units are strong enough, they can charge on through with no problem, but if not the game provides a back route via teleporting tiles that makes things easier.

- Your house leader will be absent for the battle and their second-in-command takes charge alongside you instead. This is especially interesting in the Black Eagles route, which was the first one written, since Hubert's exchange with the Death Knight hints at their secret alliance with one another, and the Flame Emperor showing up while Edelgard happens to be absent is a huge red flag especially if you did the C+ Support with Edelgard beforehand. Byleth must be pretty thick in that situation since I just can't imagine anyone hearing Edelgard say this:

then encounter someone saying this:

and not make the obvious connection.

- If you somehow fail to defeat the Death Knight or his paladins in 25 turns, this happens:

"Bring me the women"!? Could you have made it sound any creepier, Edelgard!?

- Finally, the end of this chapter is officially what makes the split in the Black Eagles route between Silver Snow and Crimson Flower a difficult choice for me. At first I would have thought that it was an obvious choice given that I can never personally connect with Rhea no matter how much I like her as a character and am more in agreement with Edelgard on the state of Fodlan despite the whole "masked terrorist working with the Agarthans" thing.

But counterargument: Seteth and Flayn.

This is the chapter that marks a huge shift in Seteth's character and how I perceived him. First off it was impossible not to feel terrible for him in how emotional he's rendered due to Flayn's disappearance (with Mark Whitten once again killing it with his voice-acting), a reaction that foreshadows that the "brother-sister" relationship between them is a ruse and that Seteth in fact has a much deeper connection to Flayn that justifies this vulnerability he is feeling. And once you rescue Flayn, his overwhelming relief and gratitude is palpable. As he says, he is indebted to Byleth and feels extremely remorseful for all the doubt and passive-aggressive barbs he's given them in the past. With Seteth becoming friendly toward you and even allowing an equally grateful Flayn to join your class, you will feel like an ass betraying their trust by joining with Edelgard and fighting against them as you help her sack Garreg Mach. But for this playthrough I'm doing Crimson Flower, so I'll have to live with that guilt

[anonymousboxcar]

Troublesome Truck Headcanons: Music

I’m very intrigued by the glimpses that we get at the troublesome trucks on Sodor. Here are some of my silly thoughts on their musical habits!

-> They have a rotating roster of songs. New ones emerge after embarrassing incidents, and older ones phase out of the roster once they no longer bother the engine in question (or make the other engines laugh).

-> With all the singing they do, I like to think they practice. In sidings, yards, and sheds across Sodor, one or two trucks lead their groups in a kind of evening choir rehearsal.

-> If you ask any of them about musical notation, rhythm, etc., you’ll get a baffled stare nine times out of ten. But if you watch and listen to them, you’ll see they have a basic understanding of these concepts and use them. They don’t have the technical vocabulary of music, but they have decades of experience and practice.

-> A group rehearsing in a siding has only passing night trains as an audience, who can’t stick around long enough to get annoyed. A group rehearsing in a yard or shed often earns someone roaring at them to shut up, for the love of [insert applicable deity or figurehead here].

-> Such requests receive the appropriate response: an even louder encore.

-> The only exceptions to this rule are

engines who got in their good books,

a manager with the authority to slate them to haul sewage, or

Bill and Ben, who say they amaze the trucks into speechlessness with their “auditions for the band.”

-> There are no rehearsals near sheds known to accommodate Douglas nor Oliver anymore.

-> Composing the songs is a collaborative effort among those appointed “the writers.” The railway shuffles them around too much for them to work with the same writers as before, but word of mouth makes it easy to pass on any recent developments.

-> They have enough years of musical tradition among themselves to provide inspiration for new songs. If a writer feels bolder than usual, though, they might listen in to the working songs of the railway crews.

-> Each song has a testing period. If all the trucks sing along with their leaders over the course of a day, the song gets locked into the roster.

-> Every truck has to sing along for it to count. They all agreed on unanimous votes awhile back; nobody wants to listen to a song they hate for hours on end. That breeds resentment and subsequent malice they’d like to reserve for the engines, thank you very much.

-> As much as they practice, the trucks reassure each other that it doesn’t matter if they sing very well. All that matters is that they make music with their companions.

-> If you can’t form words, you can hum. If you can’t hum, you can sway along to the beat or mouth the words. You can lean on your fellow singers, telling them you’re there, feeling and sharing the vibrations. They all know music goes deeper than the rails beneath them. They all know there’s more than one way to sing.

-> A new truck becomes part of the community when they join in a sing-along for the first time. “Singing with us makes you one of us,” one of them explained to a brake van once. “Simple as that.”

-> Some wish the engines would join their sing-alongs, would become one of them. (Well, engines that aren’t Bill or Ben. That would be too powerful of an alliance, the leaders agree with a shiver. Best to leave Sodor in one piece.)

[dragonagecompanions]

For author of ASOIAF Inquisitor: Inner Circle reaction to the events at Hardhome?

Cassanda: And so it boils down to this. From the very beginning the Seeker has wondered when the Wall and whatever lives beyond it will have its say and at last it has come. There are so many plots that a less avid reader might struggle to keep them apart, but Cassandra's focused determination -and the tiny war table she keeps in her quarters, outlining the series- means that when the Night King finally reveals himself she can see the whole field converging.

And it is wonderful.

Varric: Look, everyone thinks they can write a book, but most people never will. His greatest work, which garnered enough notoriety that his career was jump started, was more fact than fiction and yet still was a struggle for the first few drafts. He writes novellas and periodicals because, quite frankly, keeping more than one or two story lines going is annoying and splinters focus.

Which means that with everything happening in the Seven Kingdoms somehow the fall of Hardhome should lack the impact that such an important watershed should have-- and yet somehow dancing from sunny Mereen to the icy tundra of Beyond the Wall as the end of the world draws suddenly near loses nothing for the complexity of its surroundings.

He needs to up his game.

Solas: And so the enemies begin to show their faces. From the first moment of this series the rift mage has seen very few of the plot twists coming, and as he settles back in the solitude of his rotunda this is no different. He had suspected that some of what lay beyond the wall was political fear mongering, that the watch were making ready for their own coup. But to see the Night King being his march with the icy truth that death is truly only fodder for more is....mesmerizing. All the schemes of the Seven Kingdoms fall short of this new terror, and yet so few fail to see it growing at their very borders.

He feels a kinship, there.

Blackwall: Jon Snow would have made a proper Warden. It's easy to see the similarities between wights and darkspawn, and the terrible pressure of a man set to meat unearthly foes. The Seven Kingdoms have a blight of their own on the way, make no mistake, and for a brief moment Skyhold's would be warden is ready to take arms with the King of the North whose name is Stark.

Belatedly he will chastise himself for such foolishness, but it will be on his mind for weeks afterwards, how their inquisitor intends to resolve this-- and what the fate of it all will be.

Vivienne: It stinks of Ferelden propaganda at first, and if there had not been so much else written Madame de Fer might have accused their fearless leader of pandering to King Alistair. But from the inquisitors first words in the series something has lurked behind the walls-- and while others may have been drawn in by the Lannisters and their tricks no player of the great game loses sight of an enemy for long and lives to tell of it. The Stark boy's gambit was a good one, but in showing his hand too early he has caught the attention of something far greater-- and with only an alliance with the Wildlings it seems the Starks are set to loose another scion.

It bears watching-- and is worth the effort to make sure their inquisitor has adequate writing time.

Sera: Friggin' dead people not staying dead, little people turning to monsters and all the big people too focused on their pointy chair. Arrows is what it needs, and dragons. The Red Jenny expels many a cookie and arrow on her targets, too antsy to sit and wait to read more-- and bothering their Inquisitor will only delay the process.

Friggin' words.

Iron Bull: Necromancy, why does it always come back to that? 5000 wildings against an army that just uses your fallen against you? And no promise of alliance or even peace with anyone else? Magic at your back and politics at the front? It sounds like the worst of Seheron, and that always makes his horns itch. At least the 'Vints didn't regenerate, though their magic certainly didn't help.

For all his training and his scheming the Ben Hassrath agent never saw the Night King coming so soon, and as Jon Snow flees again the Charger's leader is suddenly starting to wonder if the Seven Kingdoms is expected to survive at all.

And if not, does that bode well, for Thedas?

Dorian: Really, this is a bit beyond his ability to excuse. For the Night King to be able to permanently rouse so many, particularly in a state of constant obediant reanimation, would require massive amounts of power. And even then his thralls would be shambling disorganized things. It seems that this great and terrible ruler of the north has more in common with a plague bearer than any true Necromancer, and that is a benefit. Plagues can be burned out, with enough fire and steel.

No the real threat still lives in Kings Landing-- and Dorian can only hope the younger son of House Lannister can prove his wit and bring the Mother of Dragons home to roost--before his nest is burned alive.

Cullen: Jon Snow was right to retreat, ahead of a more fearsome army and in a bad position. Skyhold's commander knows a losing battle when he sees it, and moving back south of the wall to regroup is a sound military tactic. Without realizing it Cullen has set and reset his own maps to match the fictional war playing out in his mind--both a relief from their own recent retreat, and to watch what is growing in the south.

Josephine: It is horrible, of course, what the Night King is doing, but also so exciting to see the stories that have so far been on the periphery come to the forefront. But while attack is terrible the ambassador is truly relieved that Loboda falls in the attack. Such a crass and violent leader is not a good ally for peace, and his death at the hands of the enemy will certainly motivate the Wildings without the risks that come with assassination.

They are in a bad spot, of course, but she has faith it will be seen through. And quickly-- the suspense is ruining her schedules.

Leliana: She doesn't finish it. Can't, without seeing the fallen of the blight and imagining her warden friends in that same terrible spot. Josie tells her enough to know what is to come, but the spymaster must read enough terrible things in her day-- this need not be one.

-Mod Fereldone

[littlefankingdom]

Claude: The Alliance cannot work during war, so we are now a Federation and I'm king, so I can take decision on my own.

Me: Light of my day, love of my life, are you making yourself dictator?! You're so smart, why are you sacrificing the little bit of republic you have when you could manipulate them to be on your side?!

Explanation: "dictator" comes from the Roman Republic. During a crisis, the Senate would choose a dictator, someone who would have full power over everything for a period of time to "save the Republic". All of them pretty much abused it, killing everyone they didn't like, then they started making themselves dictator for life, which we call today "emperor".

Nowadays, some countries do this same bs, like France's 5th Republic, as it was created by a pro-monarchy general who only accepted to be president if he could get more power (Fuck De Gaulle). To make it short, if the French gov judge the country to be facing a crisis, they can give themselves, and especially the president, more power, which give less to the democracy. Since the terrorist attacks from a couple of years ago, the French gov has been doing that. Not full on "all power to the president" as they couldn’t be able to excuse it, but they have authorized themselves to have more power, which has harmed our rights to the point that the Human Rights Court find France guilty of infringement upon human rights every month or so.

"But you need an unique leader in a time of crisis!" Do we? One human does not have the mental and emotional capacity to bear the burden that is making all the decisions during a crisis. Through history, kings and leaders often didn't make decisions alone, they had a war council. No council during a crisis or a war is a terrible idea. It's opening the door to absolutism and abuse of power. It is a dictatorship.