#she was so close to being put in the same cage where she suffered for a hundred years

[lycemagee]

Are you lost? Are you hungry? Are you Thirsty? Don't worry about it my love. Here we are building the perfect world without agony, pain and despair. Just give me your heart in return.

Oke I had it in mind I couldn't stop thinking about it lol. So some brainstorming!

- Florence, Alfons and Roger grew up in a cult, because of their "blessings" they were planned to be the next heads of their cult, who would change the world

- they were put into much pressure, lessons for their "spirituality". They were 'cleansed' of the mistakes they had made by means of physical torture.

- growing up together they were really close, but Alfons developed in his early stage of childhood consciousness, that their suffering is not justified and questioned the existence of a "perfect" world ("If the perfect world has no pain, no suffering and no despair, why do we have to endure this?")

- on their twelfth birthday (even tho Roger was older than them, the cult declared that they would be the same age with the same birthday) Florence had the idea to steal three rings and gifted them to Alfons and Roger. So that they would always be connected.

- on the same evening Roger found a way to escape and Alfons, who was with him, was against it. Roger and Alfons often talked about the outside world together and what they would do with their freedom, so Alfons felt inclined to leave, but still wasn't sure, looking at the ring on his finger, that was too big for him. Roger knew the only thing, that held him off was Florence and even Roger felt conflicted just leaving her behind. But he was positive, that he would get her later, but pressured Alfons, if he still wanted to see them suffer everyday. With hesitation he denied and Roger promised him to come back and get Florence too.

- in the end they were picked up from the police after they reached a little city, but weren't listening to them, as they told them they live nearby in a little village

- as a reaction of the disappearance of Alfons and Roger the Village moved in fear of outsiders and the authorities, that when the Police got active after some weeks they disappeared.

- "You promised, we would get her. You promised it! But you betrayed her!"

"WE betrayed her Alfons! You were as desperate to leave and ending the days being in a cage. At least we are free right?"

- Alfons never forgave Roger and resented him

- Roger got adopted by a rich family and grew up in wealth and became a doctor

- Alfons lived in a foster family, where he met Elbert the first time

- when Florence heard, that Roger and Alfons disappeared she couldn't believe it and the other members punished her even harder, to make sure she would not make the same "mistake"

- 15 years went by and Alfons lived with Elbert, living life casually and enjoying the nightlife. To his distaste he figured out that Roger is living nearby and works as a doctor Alfons visited, much to his distaste and has now more contact with him. He also befriended a curious man with the name of Liam, but suddenly he disappeared and his Flatmate Harrison asked Alfons about his whereabouts.

- at some point when Alfons visited his regular Café he met a person who resembled a girl he sometimes dreamed about. She came closer to him, sitting next to him, her eyes were empty and dull, her smile cold.

"Hello Alfons. How are you doing? It's been a while."

He saw the ring she was wearing and he frowned. He knew the person in front of him was not the same. He could feel her calculating gaze on him and put his mask up, smiling politely to her. They were talking superficially, he felt something was off, the way she behaved, she talked. She didn't mention the cult on time. Suddenly she stood up wanting to leave and looked almost bitterly at Alfons.

"First I resented you for leaving me all alone. But I forgave you. Because I love you. So please come with me.", she held her hand to Alfons, who was surprised but realised quickly that all her words were hollow. He declined and when she left he saw Liam outside in a car.

[domxmarvel]

The Villain’s Heart

masterlist

Pairing: Mihaly x Female!Reader

You watched them through your magic mirror. You wanted Mihaly and you spent every waking moment watching and planning how you'd make them yours. Much like your mother Nightswan,you were determined to get what you wanted and what you wanted was Mihaly. You feel an urge, one that’s like an addiction, an urge to see Mihaly and make them yours. You watched them,wondering how soft their hair would be,how their skin would feel under your touch and how their lips would feel against yours. But you knew they would probably reject you due to your mother being a villain. It had ruined multiple relationships and you didn't want it to happen again. You needed to make them like you without finding out about your mother. You portaled outside their door, setting some flowers outside their door and knocking. Quickly portaling back before they opened the door,watching them through your mirror again. You were desperate to have their love, it’s all you craved. You watch anxiously through the mirror, wondering if Mihaly will notice the flowers. You saw Mihaly come out to grab the flowers from their doorstep. Feeling excited and looking back intensely, hoping Mihaly will appreciate the flowers and want to meet or find out who sent them to them, and that maybe it is the start of your plan to win their affections. You watched their reaction,they picked up the flowers. Looking at them,confused before smiling. Suddenly there was a knock at your door,you quickly covered the mirror and went to answer. Finding your mother Nightswan standing there. 

"Yes,mother" She glares at you with her cold and harsh look, before looking down at the flowers. She looks back at you with that same stare before asking. 

“Where did those flowers come from?” 

"They're from the garden,I just wanted some for decor" You lied.She nods her head, still looking cold and somewhat angry. 

“Very well then. I trust these will not interfere with any of your other duties in the danceverse?” You nodded,hoping she’ll drop the subject. She gives me one final stern look before turning around and walking away. You carefully closed the door, feeling relieved that she had dropped the subject. Walking back to the magic mirror, and looking through carefully, hoping to see Mihaly again. You put your hand on the mirror,as if you were touching their cheek. You were once again interrupted by a knock. Covering the mirror again before checking who it was. This time it wasn't your mother but one of the servants. 

"Your mother wants you in the main room as soon as possible" You made your way to the main room,your mother sitting on her throne. 

"I'm putting my plan into action tonight,I'm capturing the just dancers" You immediately freeze, shocked by what your mother has said. Just as you had started flirting with Mihaly, your mother has announced that she’s planning on kidnapping the Just Dancers, including Mihaly. But you couldn't speak,she'd know and Mihaly would suffer the consequences. So you stayed silent. You feel your heart sink as you watched your mother’s plan to capture the Just Dancers become a reality. A sense of guilt washes over you, realizing that you had missed your one chance to speak out and say something that could have changed things.You felt like a failure, watching as the Just Dancers are captured and put into a cage on your mother’s ship, including Mihaly. All of them separated from each other. You waited until late at night, when everyone was asleep, before making your way to the dungeons where the Just Dancers are being held captive. Slowly sneaking down the hall, careful not to make a noise or be seen. You reached Mihaly's cell,the first one. All the dancers were separated so they couldn't even talk.

“Mihaly, are you okay?” Using your magic to walk right through the bars “Mihaly, are you alright? Are you hurt?”

"Yeah,I'm fine." They look at you for a few more seconds before they say "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be upstairs with your mother and the rest of the minions? What if someone finds out you're down here talking to an enemy of your mother? You could get in serious trouble" Even though they were technically a prisoner, they were obviously thinking about your safety.

"I should,but I was worried about you" They look at you, their expression softens. You can tell a sense of confusion is in their expression, but also grateful that you're here. 

"You're worried about me?" They look like they want to say something else, but are hesitant to.

“What is it? You can say anything you want, you know.” You give them a reassuring look, hoping they'll open up a bit. They lean in towards you as well, their voice soft and hushed. They think carefully before speaking, as if they were hesitant to say what they wanted to say.

"I just wanted to say...that it means a lot to me, you coming down here. You're risking a lot just to talk to me. It's nice to know that someone cares, even if I'm a prisoner. Thanks."

"Speaking of which,I can't stay too long. If someone catches me,my mother will lose her mind" you explained,you didn't want to leave but you couldn't be caught here.

"I understand. You should probably go before someone sees you. I don't want you to get in trouble on my account." There was a hint of disappointment in their voice. You stood up,looking at them one more time 

"Tell me Mihaly,did you like the flowers?" They look at you, a small smile playing at the corners of their lips. 

"You're the one who left those? Yeah, I did. They're beautiful. I was wondering who left them." They look at you with an expression that can only be described as soft and grateful.

"I'm happy you liked them" you stepped closer to them. They look u

"Thank you. I really appreciate it. It was a nice surprise. I'm glad it was you who left them." They look at you with a look of appreciation, their expression tinged with a bit of warmth and maybe a hint of affection.

"You are?" Were they really happy that it was you,why would they?

"Yeah. I am. It's nice knowing that someone cares, and I'm glad it was you who left them. It feels...special, knowing that you took the time to do something nice for me, even though we're on opposite sides." You took their hands in yours. 

"What if I don't want to be,what if I wanna be on the same side"

"You-you want to be on the same side? With me?" They look at you carefully, their eyes watching you intently, perhaps trying to gauge how sincere your words are.

"Yes" you held their hands,softly running your thumb across the back of their hands.

"I...you really do? You want to be on my side?" They turned their hands a bit and held yours as well. Their expression was now filled with a sense of wonder and hope. You nodded,moving a little bit closer. You moved one hand to their cheek and moved even closer. Their eyes widened briefly, and they looked at you for a few moments, seeming startled by the sudden gesture of affection. But then their expression softened, and they leaned in a little closer to you as well. You finally leaned closer and closed the space between you,kissing them. There was a moment of surprise and then they responded, kissing you back. The kiss was gentle and tender, holding a sense of warmth and affection that was palpable. You moved your hands to their waist. They wrapped their arms around your shoulders, holding you closer. Their body seemed to fit into yours perfectly, as if made just for you. You needed to pull away and leave before someone realized that you weren't in your room,but it was impossible to let go. You wanted them for so long and now you had them.You pulled away 

"I have to go,but I'll be back soon"

"I know,you have to go. But please come back soon. I'll be waiting for you."

"I promise I'll be back as soon as I can" you gave them one more kiss before leaving. The taste of their lips still lingering on yours. You whispered a final promise, then reluctantly pulled away from them and quickly left the room, knowing you had to get back to your own room before anyone realized you were gone.

As you walked out and back to your room,you ran into your brother,Jack rose. 

"What were you doing up?" You asked him. You were caught off guard by the sudden appearance of your brother, he must have been lurking around looking for you. You tried to hide your surprise and act casual. 

"I could ask you the same thing."

"I couldn't sleep so I went for a walk" you lied. He didn't seem to buy it,due to the lipstick on your lips,a bright pink that you would never wear. Jack noticed the lipstick on your lips and raised an eyebrow, a hint of suspicion in his expression. He spoke,his voice low and concerned. 

"Really? You went for a walk? At this hour? And why are you wearing lipstick?" You panicked. "I was playing around with some old makeup,because I couldn't sleep" Jack was clearly not entirely satisfied. 

"Playing around with old makeup? At this hour? I know you're a night owl but you don't usually go on late night makeup adventures."

"Well,never too late to try something new"

"Is that so? Never too late to try something new, huh? Sounds...suspicious. Who do you think you're fooling?" You needed to do something 

"Why are you so concerned? What are you even doing up?"

"I couldn't sleep either. You know how it is at this time. But that doesn't excuse you from answering my question. Who were you with? And why do you have lipstick on your lips?"

"That's none of your business,you shouldn't concern yourself with who I kiss" He crossed his arms, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. 

"Is that so? 'None of your business' is quite a defensive answer. And 'who you kiss'? Interesting choice of words. Sounds like someone has a secret lover they don't want me to know about."

"I don't concern myself with who you kiss soon you shouldn't concern yourself with who I kiss" Jack shrugged, a teasing grin spreading across his face. His voice held a hint of amusement as he spoke. 

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong. If you have a secret lover, then it's my duty as your brother to tease you about it as much as possible." You rolled your eyes 

"I swear if you tell mom about this,I'll never talk to you again" Jack grinned, clearly enjoying your annoyance. He held up his hands in mock surrender. 

"Hey, don't worry. I won't tell Mom. Your secret is safe with me. But just for future reference, you might want to be more careful about your make-out sessions in the middle of the night. Those lipstick stains are a dead giveaway." He walked off,waiting a bit before you followed him,hiding so he wouldn't see you. Until he reached the door to the dungeons,why would he go there? You quietly followed after him. You followed after him, taking care to stay unnoticed as you trailed him discreetly. You walked by Mihaly who stood up and walked over to you

"Where are you going? What are you doing?" They whispered. 

"Did you see Jack?"

"Yeah, I did. He went that way. What's going on?"

"He's acting weird,and he has no reason to be here. Just stay low" You followed Jack,seeing him open the cage for Wanderlust. He handed Wanderlust another key and they freed Brezziana,Sara and Mihaly. You listened closely to hear what they were saying.But you could only catch bits and pieces of their hushed voices.Sara spoke first

"What's going on here?" Wanderlust immediately shushed her

"Ssh...keep it down. We don't want anyone to hear us."

"Are we breaking out?" Brezziana asked.

"Yes..."

"But how are we going to do that without getting caught?" Mihaly asked and Jack answered.

“I'll get you out,just follow my lead” Jack spoke softly and urgently, clearly wanting to get everyone out of there as quickly as possible. 

"But what about Night Swan? Won't she notice we're gone?" Sara’s voice was full with worry.

"Yeah, won't she come after us?" And so was Brezziana’s.

"She won't be able to stop us. Trust me." Wanderlust reassured them. You stood up and approached them. 

"She has no clue what's going on,she's dead asleep and doesn't think you can get out." You gave Jack a look,that silently said 'why didn't you tell me?' All eyes turned to you as you stepped forward, their expressions ranging from surprise to confusion to relief. Jack's eyes widened as he saw you approach, seemingly caught off guard by your sudden appearance.

“Y/N” Jack’s eyes went wide. "What are you doing here?" The others stared at you, clearly bewildered by your sudden intervention. You turned to Jack.

"I could ask you that,why didn't you tell me?" Jack's expression shifted to one of guilt as he heard your question. He looked at you sheepishly, clearly embarrassed by his secretiveness.

"I didn't tell you because I didn't want to involve you. I thought it would be safer if you didn't know."

"Seriously? You know our mother,we need to be able to trust each other. I don't want you taking such a risk alone"

"I...I know. I'm sorry. I get so caught up in trying to protect you that sometimes I forget that you're capable of handling things on your own. I promise I won't keep secrets from you anymore." He suddenly noticed the lipstick again as Mihaly stood next to you. As Jack glanced over at Mihaly,noticing the lipstick on their lips. His eyes widened slightly as he realized what it might mean. A teasing smile spread across his face as he looked back at you, a mischievous gleam in his eyes."Well, well, well. I take it that explains the lipstick."

"Don't start"

"Oh, come on. I'm just teasing. But seriously, I never expected to see you sneaking around with a secret lover. You're full of surprises." You rolled your eyes. 

"Maybe we should focus less on who I'm kissing and more on getting out of here" Jack chuckled again, still amused by the whole situation. But he nodded, his expression becoming more serious.

"You're right. You're right. We can deal with your love life later. For now, let's focus on getting out of here."

"We should hurry"

After a tense and nerve-wracking trek through the castle, the group finally made it outside. They emerged into the open, taking in a deep breath of fresh air as they looked around, relieved to have escaped the castle safely. Wanderlust opened a portal and took you to his place,so you could regroup and plan how to take Nightswan down. The group went through the portal, arriving at Wanderlust's place. It was a beautiful and magical place, full of music and dance. Everyone looked around in awe, taking in the sights and sounds of the place.

Wander spoke up 

"I'll show you to your rooms,get some sleep and will work on a plan in the morning"

You laid down but quickly heard a knock and opened the door. You opened the door to find Jack standing there, a mischievous smile on his face. He leaned against the door frame, his arms crossed casually.

"What?" his smile widening as he took in your expression. He pushed himself off the doorframe and took a step towards you, his voice low and teasing.

"Just wanted to check in on you, make sure you're not planning any more secret make-out sessions." You rolled your eyes "Or perhaps you're planning another romantic escapade right now? I wouldn't want to interrupt"

"I think Mihaly needs some rest,so probably not" you said,not realizing that you said Mihaly's name. His smirk turned into a knowing grin as he saw your realization.

"Oh? Mihaly, huh? So you've found yourself a secret lover after all. I have to admit, I'm quite surprised. I never would have pegged them as your type. But now I think I understand why you were so secretive about it all. You're in love, aren't you? " You blush. 

"i-I" you were in love but you didn't want to say it,saying it would make it real. And you had only kissed Mihaly,you didn't do much other than that.

"Oh, don't be shy now. It's quite endearing to see you all flustered and embarrassed. And I have to say, I can see the appeal. Mihaly is a special person, after all. So, are you going to tell me more about your blossoming romance, or are you going to leave me in suspense?"

"Just get out" you tried to shove him out,as he kept talking. 

"No, no, no. I don't think so. Not until you give me some details. I need to know everything. How did it start? Where did you first meet? Was it love at first sight? Come on, don't leave me hanging. I'm invested now." Just as you opened the door to shove him out,you found Mihaly with their hand raised as they were about to knock. You froze for a moment, your heart skipping a beat as you saw Mihaly there. Their hand was raised, clearly ready to knock on the door before they saw Jack. "Well, well, looks like we have company. Mihaly, just in time. Y/N here was just telling me all about your budding romance." You pushed Jack 

“Just leave" you turned to Mihaly "hey" feeling both relieved to see them and a little embarrassed about what Jack had just seen. “Sorry about that whole thing with Jack, he just likes to tease. What brings you here?" Mihaly smiled softly at you, their eyes filled with affection as they spoke.

"I just wanted to check on you, see how you were feeling after all that adventure. And to be honest, I missed you."

"I missed you too,but I didn't want to wake you"

"There you go again, being all considerate. But I'm glad you missed me. I couldn't sleep, my mind just kept drifting to you. Seems like we're both dealing with some insomnia tonight." You chuckled,putting your arms around them. 

"Is that what we're calling it now?"

"Oh, trust me. If only you knew all the thoughts that were keeping me awake, you'd understand why 'insomnia' is a polite way of putting it."

"Just come here" you pulled them close to you,kissing them.

[moonchildofhekate]

I don't believe in God, but I believe my Father believes in God - no, I believe my Father believes he is God. He feels he is deserving of the praise that our so-called God is worthy of. He feels he has been a good Father, that he has been just and kind and strong and powerful. But the problem with God is that he can't be kind or just and powerful. Those words are strings that, when tied together, do not make the perfect bow but an impenetrable knot. I believe my Father is the same, he cannot be both. So, where does that leave him? Should he be considered kind after all the trauma he has put his children through? After being disappointed that they weren't born Jesus and forcing everyone to believe that his children are to be nailed for his mistakes, should he be considered kind? Or should he be considered powerful when he lied to and twisted the minds of many, when he screamed demands at those who were close and created a giving image of himself for everyone else, for them to believe he is better.

And isn't it funny how everyone believes God is better than he truly is. I guess that means that my Father and God are honestly no different, one and the same, just like my Father wanted. He wanted to be God - to play God - so badly that he became that very thing.

I haven't believed in God for a long time, but sometimes I want to. There are times that I want to crash down onto my knees and beg for forgiveness because clearly I did something to upset him, my Father, God. But when I do, it's like he doesn't hear me, like the clouds he resides in have taken up space in his brain and he refuses to speak with any of his disciples - his children. So I am stuck between wanting to believe and knowing I shouldn't because it strikes the cage in my chest like a drum and drains the blood from my veins, it steals the air from my lungs and it scares the child inside me. But she still believes and I hate her for not knowing any better. Though, if she still believes then doesn't that mean that I still believe because she will always be apart of me and maybe I'm the stupid one. I know what I must do to protect her because no one else will and she will suffer alone on a cross of her Father's doing and believe that this is what it means to follow with loyalty. If I don't stop her now then it will take her years to understand that God is no being to believe in. And neither is my Father.

[lycianlynx]

well, that trial sure was something. it could’ve been worse. could’ve been better. too many close calls teetering dangerously on the edge of violence for her liking—but thankfully, self-restraint isn’t yet a lost art in this world of theirs.

...still, if the night drags on much longer, dorothea isn’t so sure that will hold.

she’s tired, that much she knows. the songstress rolls her shoulders back, trying to loosen the tension knotted there, but it doesn’t help much. and around her, the others look equally spent.

speaking of:

“…not so mysterious now that i know you, huh?” she steps closer, smile small—tight at the corners—but real. 

chad looks just as exhausted. the evening's certainly taken a toll on them, from what she's heard, and the trial hadn’t done the poor kid any favors, either. she’d kept her questions to herself then, and still, will not ask. they had afforded her the same semblance of sanity, after all.  "that means i can finally give you a nickname."

dorothea gestures toward their costume, her smile growing wider despite all odds. a flicker of fondness passes through her eyes, brief but unmistakable, as she recalls how they'd extended the earlier offering to her. "…chaddy paws, maybe?"

without waiting for a response, she eases down beside them, shoulder brushing lightly against theirs as she settles in. a quiet breath escapes through her nose, soft and steady. head tilts back, letting her gaze drift upward toward the inky sprawl of sky, where the stars sit scattered like little pinpricks of light. her gaze lingers there for a moment, lost in the quiet vastness, before her attention shifts back to the one at her side.

after a beat, her hand slips into the bag at her side, and carefully, dorothea pulls out the small, brown package she’d been gifted. "anyway,"  voice low but light, "i thought we could share this together." she holds the package between them, tapping it gently with a finger. "you called it a palate cleanser, yeah? this might be as good a time as any to cleanse our palates of everything we’ve had to put up with tonight."

With roles shed, candy redistributed and threats collared and leashed, it's all Chad can do to keep from crumpling on themself into a witch's broth not unlike the shape of another from earlier in the night. Other gazes keep them from that particular fate, and they shelve that for the privacy of their own dorm room. They are not the only one who has suffered slights tonight. They are not the only one itching for solitude.

Still, one decides against it. Though her presence comes with the ever-pressing discomfort of being seen, it cannot be all that bad when they are treated to a sunset in turn, this time clear rather than overcast. Vaguely hoarse from arguing for their honor, they greet Dorothea mostly with a raise of a furred paw in lieu of proper words. Speaking of others who've endured slights...

They have the grace not to pry, as does she. It's appreciated. The nickname's met with less grace, however, their face abruptly heating and screwing up as they hide their face behind said 'chaddy-paws'.

She sits next to him. Though the nickname could need some work (the fuck's he kiddin', he'd rather die than be called that in public), he doesn't flinch away as he usually would— That has to count for something. A beat passes before Chad's eyes vaguely lift through the cage of his fingers, still adorned with that too-big ring, staring blankly at the gravel and dirt of the clearing.

The warmth of her shoulder against theirs is grounding, at least. Gaze lifts properly at a familiar crinkle of paper, and though they think they know what it is, they look anyways.

A chuff. Exhaustion brings other things, too: The near-smile that had threatened to surface earlier crests now, too tired to be hidden or resisted— Brushing the surface in the barest curl of lips, a quirk to the left side more than the right. They gently take the grain-bar, split it neatly in half, and then give the half that looks a literal fraction larger to Dorothea anyways, that half still wrapped in the paper.

They breathe, just as soft, light: "Good riddance to this night."

[flastar13]

In an au where Coriolanus is president and looking for his ex-girlfriend:

Coriolanus running to hug Lucy Gray: Lucy Gray❤️ my love, where were you?

Lucy Gray tied to a chair after being taken from her idyllic home in the woods by violent peacekeepers: What do you want now, you narcissistic, murderous asshole🤬?

Coriolanus😭: Why do you treat me like this my singing bird, I just want you to love me?

Lucy Gray😡: You tried to hunt me in that forest as if I were an animal, you betrayed your best friend causing his execution and let's not forget the countless atrocities your government commits.

Coriolanus😧😃: That was because you dared to end me through snake mail🐍, Sejanus was for the welfare of the nation😇, the same as the other sacrifices I had to make, so as your president 😎 I demand your gratitude and affection.

Lucy Gray 🤬: Fuck you Coriolanus, I would never share a zoo cage with you again.

Coriolanus 🥺: You're rejecting me, well I'll have to send multicolored adult snakes the size of a person to the next tributes of district 12 again. Do you remember them are the same ones that I threw your handkerchief to so that they would become familiar with your sweet scent? That's why I had to be a peacemaker in that horrible district.

Lucy Gray😰: Coryo... They're just kids... You can't do that...

Coriolanus🤔: What would sweet Maude Ivory be if she were harvested? Or Del Covey if a mysterious bomb went off in her house?

Lucy Gray😡: Don't mess around like my family, BITCH.

Coriolanus😌: What if all the mines in the 12th district are closed along with the black market? After all we count on District 5 for power.

Lucy Gray😭: Coriolanus please stop, they are innocent people and the 12th district was never my home, I was just trapped there by the war.

Coriolanus😈: And do not think that I will allow you to abandon me again, I will throw you in a cell in the prison of the presidential mansion in front of a huge television screen where you will see how people suffer because of you, until you are begging to be my girlfriend again.

Lucy Gray: You're married!

Coriolanus😒: Yes with Livia but I haven't seen her since our arranged wedding. So if you come back with me I'll give you all the first lady rooms and let you sing in the Pluribus culb, but if you need more time to think about it I respect that and I'll cut the food budget for District 12.

Lucy Gray 😭: It's okay Coriolanus I'll do what you want but don't hurt anyone.

Coriolanus👿: Is that all you have to tell me after so many years? After I send my best men away from the cover of civilization? After poisoning the entire cabinet to find you? After putting aside my busy schedule to see you? Officer execute order 66 in the district...!

Lucy Gray 😭🥺: Wait Coryo my love, I love you, you are a sweet cake with cream and as pure as freshly fallen snow Do you want to be my boyfriend again?

Coriolanus 😢: That was so sweet but it's not enough 👿 officer execute...

Lucy Gray 😫: I'm yours, only yours!

Coriolanus 😳: Really? I own you?

Lucy Gray 😭😫: If Coryo you are my owner, I belong to you just as you belong to me, it is written in the stars. Do you remember?

Coriolanus😍: Yes! 😏 Prove it.

Lucy Gray gives him the most passionate kiss of her life.

Coriolanus😍: Perfect my love (He proceeds to untie her but places a golden slave collar around her neck that will warn her if she leaves the presidential mansion without permission) now let's take a bath together like in the old days and then we go to my room to get catch up on my bed, then you have to prepare for your interview with Lucky Flickerman for your return and your duties as a mentor to the District 12 tributes.

Lucy Gray proceeds to cry uncontrollably as Coriolanus hugs her, comforts her, and inadvertently injects her with some kind of aphrodisiac.

[laura-de-milf]

(@palace-of-jemenfous)

I have vicious thoughts about this!!!! and it warrants a whole separate post I guess

One thing that really stood out to me when first watching this scene is the way she physically recomposes herself and entirely changes her voice and body language before she delivers this line. She goes from the same shocked, tearful expression of genuine heartbreak that we saw during the raid scene-

-and morphs into this stone-cold, dutiful resolution:

She does an intriguingly similar thing with her head and face as she does when shapeshifting into other people; not that I think she's physically shapeshifting here, but it sure feels like she's at least mentally shapeshifting into someone who isn't herself. We've seen her do this "internal" shapeshifting several times, from the "straight-laced" Bureau agent into "wild cat" Laura de Mille, so at this point we know how capable she is of splitting her Bureau and Sisterhood personas. She's physically returning to Bureau-form in this moment to deliver this line, which feels scripted and performed in a sort of perfunctory "sorry ma'am, that's just Company Policy" kind of way. We know that Laura's been forced to hide her abilities (and huge aspects of her character) while working at the Bureau, so we can probably reasonably conclude that that side isn't her true self. The person speaking this line is not the true Laura de Mille.

Here's where I start ruminating on why she did this and get into some crackpot/speculative theory, but-

I honestly do think she was trying to rescue and protect metahumans wherever she could at the Bureau, certainly in the beginning. To what extent she did this at her own risk and at what point she needed to start protecting herself (in order to continue protecting others), I'm not 100% sure, but I do think at some point during WWII she determined that a visible close connection between her and the Sisterhood would put them all at risk: Laura of being found out as a Meta, and subsequently the Sisterhood's subversive activities being exposed with no one in a position of authority left to protect them. Laura's effort to stop associating with the Sisterhood would have been an attempt to obscure any personal affiliation so they couldn't be used as collateral against each other under extreme circumstances: after two world wars spent working up close with government intelligence, she's probably all too familiar with the dangers of letting the enemy know who and what you care about. What safer way to ensure that Laura's quiet, ongoing efforts to keep the metas protected couldn't be accidentally discovered (or forcibly extracted) than to genuinely make the Sisterhood believe she was distancing herself from them by choice? Which further leads me to scream about how much she must have known that they loved her for her to trust that they wouldn't turn against her.

The plan ultimately went horribly wrong in the end, for reasons we're not clearly shown but which I can only speculate were not entirely in her control. The least she could do at that point was to allow the Sisterhood a means to use her as an outlet for their anger; to use her as the face of the system they'd all once schemed to take down, and perhaps to fuel their motivation to continue pursuing that work. In the case of this scene, she's giving them direct incentive to go through with the eternal flagellation. And it works: Rita rips open that cage door so fast after that line.

But if that's a bit lofty- I think more simply Laura feels that she deserves to be hated by the people she's harmed. She holds herself solely responsible for what happened to them, and probably feels that the only way to repent is to suffer with them--ideally worse than them. She actively fuels and validates Rita's hatred towards her on several occasions: provoking her in the woods, teasing her sadistically by taking Malcolm's image in the salon--we've seen how good-natured she is in her purest form and this seems by comparison so uncharacteristic of the Laura we know underneath the trauma. But like so many deeply traumatically unwell people, she lashes out cruelly in a deliberate effort to drive away the people she loves so that it's less hurtful to them when she proceeds to abuse and harm herself. She wants the Sisterhood to think of her as the villain and to feel satisfaction instead of grief when harm inevitably comes to her. She feels this is what she deserves. She doesn't see a path of forgiveness for herself, only pain and evil and loathing and self-flagellation. And she doesn't want the people she loves, who are already dealing with so much of their own pain because of her, anywhere near that.

[tomboyjessie13-artblog]

This drawing is sort of an excuse to draw poses inspired by Vogue, I mean if Araki can draw his characters doing poses inspired by models and/or fashion magazines, so can I, it's a Jojo staple after all. That being said, there has to be a story to go with this right? The events leading up to the [Yellow Temperance] arc play out the same as canon. Except the Joestar group stopped at Malaysia instead of leaving for India, Jason Lennon was occupying the group as a sailor hired by Joseph during the [Dark Blue Moon] arc and was the only one to have survive Forever's Stand during the [Strength] arc, and Medea goes with Devo and Rubber Soul to Singapore to confront Jason and the Joestars.

Anyways, Medea was relaxing by the sea with her very first lobster roll(they count as sandwiches) when she saw a battered and bruised Rubber crawling to her after having his ass kicked by [Star Platinum], telling her that Jotaro did this to him and warns her to go back to Egypt for her own good. Only for her to spit at him and called him a useless shithead before stating that didn't she came this far for revenge just to run away cowering, proclaiming that she's getting her hands on Jason even if it kills her.

Afterwards, she follows the Joestars and Jason by train to Malaysia after the hotel in Singapore got compromised by the two aforementioned Stand Users. Unfortunately for her she can't attack them on the train immediately due to the risk of getting herself killed if the train crashes from the chaos, so she had no choice but to wait. They arrived to Kuala Lumpur by sundown and booked a room at a hotel, they made sure that everyone is together this time. At the same time, Medea accidentally ran into the group and tried to play it off as an innocent American tourist, Jason is panicking when he ran into her because of their fallout but was relieved to learn that she supposedly "didn't recognize him"(keep in mind that he doesn't know that she's a Stand user either), meanwhile however Kakyoin felt like he had seen her before but couldn't put his finger on it, thereby he keeps a close eye on her. Later that evening, the Joestars started ordering dinner when she overheard Jason's order being Bak kut teh(Translation: "pork rib tea"), she discreetly used her Stand to poison his food with a dose of "Drunken Lullaby"(a corrosive poison) and waited for the time where he starts dying to confront him. Soon he started coughing blood from the poison and ran out in a pained and frenzied panic with Joseph following him behind to see what's wrong. Once alone in the KLCC park, Medea finally reveals herself to Jason, telling him that he now knows the pain she felt when he broke her heart. Joseph asked what is she talking about while Jason tried covering his ass, Medea then demand him to tell Joseph the truth if he wants to live, he refuses and she just let him suffer, Joseph told Medea to let him go but she stood her ground. Jason finally snaps when he felt his left kidney dying, he told Joseph about him cheating on Medea with a classmate before begging for the cure. Medea pushes even further by demanding why he left her, he refuses, but then relents when his chest started to sore, he explains that he left her because he believed that Medea was holding him back on satisfying his envy. When she asked who's he envying, he reveals that he was envious of Joseph's wealth and influence, and joined the Speedwagon foundation as an intern in order to get close to him and usurp him for his money, even going as far as to join him on his journey to find someway to make his death look like an accident. Needless to say Joseph was furious when he heard about this. Satisfied, she called off her Stand's poison and let him go, leaving him alive but badly damaged internally and humiliated with Joseph kicking his rib-cage for the lies and deceit. Afterwards, Joseph thanked Medea for weeding out a rat, only for her to reply: "Oh I wouldn't say that, more like ...saving your blood for a vampire bat", before she summons her Stand to decapitate him behind. Thankfully Joseph was saved by being pulled by [Hierophant Green]'s tentacles, the Joestars had followed him when Kakyoin felt that something was very wrong, he had a feeling that he'd seen Medea before but couldn't figure out why, but now he's sure that he had first met her as one of DIO's closest servants named "Medea King" when he was first brainwashed in Cairo, Egypt, much to Joseph's displeasure as he exclaims: "ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?". Medea teased Kakyoin that remembering her name is an honor for little ol' her, before Jotaro told her to quit playing around as she summoned her Stand to them for the very first time, posing fabulously, she proudly introduced it to the group, aptly named: [Flogging Molly], telling the heroes to say hello to it. And thus a Stand fight breaks out in Kuala Lumpur. Also Avdol is dumbfounded over her Stand being outside of the Tarot card category, a completely brand new type entirely. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ This would've been uploaded yesterday but it was a school night so I was too late, as well as getting distracted and falling asleep.

I also had to study on Asia's map and the map from the anime in order to get the location right, forgive me if I get any details on Malaysia's capital wrong, this is my first time researching it. OCs belong to me

[normanbased]

It really does get kind of bizarre how people talk about him. I think my first real dive into him was this podcast episode about psycho 3 and it had a strange tone from what I remember. Basically the gay community shouldn’t claim him at all because he wasn’t gay in his words. Which idk maybe that’s fair! but it was weird even to my more neutral ears.

I RANTED here, putting it under a cut because I didn’t edit it and it’s looong, but thank u for sending this so I could sound off about this topic <33

It’s such a ridiculous position to hold because Tony — regardless of how badly he tried to hide it — was gay. It’s even a stretch really to call him bisexual.

Conversion therapy doesn’t actually work, and it actually baffles me how many people still think that it does and use that as an excuse to say - “oh, well, he did conversion therapy so he’s straight!!” - like… that is quite literally not how it works.

He was traumatised and tortured. He internalised his shame so deeply that he took on the persona of a straight man, to the point he got married and had kids all to play a very orchestrated part. And it didn’t work. He continued to have affairs, to ask after ex-lovers, to aggressively cruise to fulfil a part of himself that he was failing to throttle out.

That’s not to say that he didn’t love his wife or his kids, I’m very sure that he did. There isn’t anything in the literature that contradicts that. Tony was known to be a very loving father. He wasn’t faithful (even Andy Warhol knew that) but I think he loved Berry. Maybe that’s as far as you can go to suggest that he was bisexual, but Osgood Perkins Jr doesn’t seem to think that’s valid. He openly referred to his father as just being ‘gay’ in Queer for Fear.

I think to ever call him bisexual would be to imply that — in some way, the conversion therapy worked. It didn’t.

And to claim he was straight? Looking back with all the evidence to the contrary from so many close sources, his friends, his family — it just feels like revictimising him, like continuing to force him into a box that he was never going to fit into. He didn’t want to be “fenced in” to quote his favourite song — and yet people keep doing it. People keep pushing him into the same restrictive heterosexual cage that the Paramount executives did, that the press did, that Mildred Newman did as she put him through electroshock.

Maybe I’m doing the same thing now by adamantly assuring my stance that he was gay. Who knows what label Tony would have claimed aside from him? I just think it’s clear from the literature that he didn’t want to be straight because that was his true sexuality, he did it because of societal and institutional pressures, the weight of which were fucking killing him.

If the LGBTQIA+ community won’t claim him, who the fuck will? Homophobes who will try to use him as evidence that conversion therapy works? (To reiterate, it fucking didn’t) — Where else could a gay man who died of AIDS possibly belong than with us? He was one of us whether he wanted to be part of the active Pride movement or not, and when he came to the end of his life, he acknowledged that he’d never received so much love than he did from the AIDS (and in turn, the wider LGBTQIA+) community.

I think any gay person who rejects Tony from the LGBTQIA+ community fails to understand the nuances of his circumstances, or those of any person who has to remain closeted, or is forced through conversion torture, or is suffering from internalised homophobia.

It’s not just black and white. His entire life was grey and muddy and full of uncertainty, self-doubt, guilt — I mean for fucks sake, he thought he murdered his father with prayer when he was five. He thought God was going to kill him for it. Who knows what sort of fear he was feeling as an adolescent, growing up and realising he wasn’t interested in women? How can any gay person be blamed for their own fear, resultant from a society that hates them? People act like Tony chose this for himself because he hated gay people or because he thought being straight was morally superior.

I think it’s as simple as he was afraid of being rejected by society. How can he be antagonised for that?

[silkybows]

PUT ME IN A MOVIE

23rd October, 2021 —

Manhattan, NY.

Rosaline Astor was born into a world of opulence so refined it felt almost otherworldly. The Astor estate, a sprawling mansion nestled within acres of manicured gardens, had been home to generations of her family—each member a guardian of their ancient wealth and social prestige. The scent of polished mahogany, aged leather, and antique heirlooms filled the air, mingling with the faint traces of jasmine that wafted in from the greenhouse. Every corner of the mansion whispered stories of power and privilege, where lives were lived not in the public eye, but behind the veiled curtains of discretion.

The Astors had always prided themselves on their quiet influence. They were the unseen hand that guided the fortunes of nations, the silent partners in the most lucrative deals, the faceless benefactors of the arts. But Rosaline, with her wide, curious eyes and unquenchable thirst for something more, never fit into this world of shadows. From her earliest memories, she dreamed of stepping beyond the gilded cage of her upbringing, of breaking free from the stifling expectations of her family.

Edmund Astor, her father, was a man who spoke little but controlled much. His presence alone was enough to command a room, his icy blue eyes capable of silencing even the most obstinate of men. He was a strategist, a master of the long game, and he expected the same meticulous precision from his children. Vivienne, her mother, was a ghost of a woman, her beauty dimmed by years of quiet suffering under her husband’s unyielding will. Vivienne had once been full of life, with dreams as bright as Rosaline’s, but they had been extinguished long ago, leaving behind a woman who moved through life as if it were a dream she could not escape.

Rosaline’s desires, her yearning for the spotlight, were a blasphemy in the Astor household. Fame was for the vulgar, power for the discreet. The Astors wielded influence like a scalpel, precise and invisible. But Rosaline, vibrant and determined, wanted something more tangible. She wanted to be seen, to be known, to stand on her own rather than in the long shadow of her family’s legacy.

As a child, Rosaline had been a whirlwind of energy and charm, a natural performer who could captivate a room with a smile. Her teachers at the exclusive boarding schools she attended marveled at her brilliance, her quick wit, her effortless grace. But these qualities were seen as liabilities by her family—traits that needed to be contained, tempered, redirected. The Astors were not meant to shine; they were meant to control those who did.

In her teenage years, Rosaline began to feel the full weight of her family’s expectations. The lessons in diplomacy, the endless lectures on the importance of discretion, the carefully curated social interactions—all of it felt like a noose tightening around her neck. She was being molded into something she wasn’t, forced into a role that chafed against the very essence of who she was. But instead of breaking, Rosaline’s spirit grew stronger, more defiant.

By the time she reached the age of 18, Rosaline had become something of a mystery within her social circles. She was the Astor heiress who didn’t quite fit the mold, the woman with the wild eyes and restless energy, who spoke of dreams and ambitions that seemed out of place among the polished marble halls and crystal chandeliers. Her family, exasperated by her refusal to conform, began to distance themselves from her. They didn’t disown her, not officially, but they made it clear that she was on her own. They cut the tether that had always held her close, allowing her to drift into the unknown, hoping the world would teach her the lessons they could not.

Rosaline, however, was not one to drown. The moment she felt the tether snap, she seized the opportunity with both hands. She knew that if she wanted to carve out a place for herself in the world, she would need to do it on her own terms. The first thing she did was transform herself. Gone were the muted tones and understated elegance that had been drilled into her from birth. She dyed her chestnut hair a striking platinum blonde, a transformation that was as symbolic as it was aesthetic. It was a statement—a declaration that she was no longer just the Astor heiress. She was reborn, a woman with her own identity, her own ambitions.

With her new look, Rosaline began to make waves. She was no longer the shy, obedient daughter; she was a force of nature, exuding confidence and charisma that drew people to her like moths to a flame. Men of power and influence found themselves captivated by her beauty, intrigued by her ambition. She navigated the glittering world of high society with the grace of a dancer, each step calculated, each move deliberate. She knew that to achieve the fame and power she craved, she would need to align herself with those who could open the right doors. But Rosaline was careful—she played the game with the same cold precision her father had taught her, never fully trusting anyone, always keeping her true intentions hidden behind a dazzling smile.

It was at one of the many lavish parties she attended that she met Julian Beaumont. Julian was a man who wore his power like a second skin, an older billionaire with a reputation as dark as his expensive suits. He was a master of the art of manipulation, a man who could make or break a career with a single word. Rosaline saw in him an opportunity—a way to climb the ladder faster, to reach the heights she had always dreamed of. And Julian, recognizing her potential, was more than willing to take her under his wing.

Their relationship was a dance of seduction and strategy. Rosaline played her role perfectly, walking the fine line between flirtation and business, giving just enough to keep Julian interested but never revealing her full hand. Julian, in turn, showered her with attention, introducing her to the people who could help her achieve her goals. Under his guidance, Rosaline found herself on the brink of the fame she had always desired, tantalizingly close to grasping it in her hands.

But Julian was not a man to be trusted. Beneath his charming exterior lay a heart as cold as the diamond cufflinks he wore. While Rosaline believed she was using him to achieve her ends, Julian was using her just the same. He fed off her ambition, her desire to be seen, and he began to pull her deeper into his world—a world where everything had a price, where loyalty was bought and sold, where power was the ultimate currency.

One night, Julian invited Rosaline to his penthouse, a sleek, modern fortress perched high above the city. The walls were made of glass, offering a breathtaking view of the city below—a city that glittered like a sea of stars, each light a promise of the power that awaited her. The night began like any other, with soft music playing in the background, glasses of champagne in hand, and the subtle hum of wealth that seemed to vibrate in the air.

But there was something different about Julian that night. His gaze was sharper, his smile colder. As the night wore on, he suggested they move to a more private setting, away from the prying eyes of the city. Rosaline, emboldened by the champagne and the thrill of Julian’s attention, agreed. What followed was a whirlwind of passion, a surrender to the moment that left Rosaline feeling both powerful and vulnerable.

But as dawn began to break, and the euphoria faded, Rosaline realized too late that something was wrong. Julian’s phone was pointed at her, the screen capturing her every move. The shock of it sobered her instantly, a cold wave of dread washing over her. She reached out, tried to snatch the device from his hands, but Julian was faster. The look in his eyes was one she recognized—a look she had seen in her father’s eyes countless times before. A look that said he had already won.

“What are you doing, Julian?” Her voice trembled, the words barely a whisper.

“Just ensuring that our little partnership remains ... mutually beneficial,” he replied smoothly, tucking the phone out of her reach.

The realization hit her like a punch to the gut. He had recorded their most intimate moments, moments that could not only ruin her but also destroy the Astor name—a name she had fought so hard to redefine. Julian’s threat hung in the air, unspoken but clear. If she didn’t comply with his wishes, the video would be released, and the scandal would be inescapable. It would spread like wildfire through the high society circles she so desperately wanted to conquer, reducing her dreams to ashes.

For a moment, the weight of Julian’s betrayal crushed her. She felt the urge to run, to retreat into the safety of her family’s shadow, to beg for their help. But she knew that going back was not an option. They would see this as proof of what they had always believed—that she was too foolish, too reckless, too hungry for the limelight. They would close their doors to her, leaving her to face the storm alone.

But Rosaline was no longer the naïve girl who had been thrown into the river. She had learned to swim in its dark, dangerous currents, and she wasn’t about to drown now. Julian had underestimated her, just as her family had. He had mistaken her ambition for weakness, her desire for fame as desperation. But Rosaline was nothing if not resourceful. She had been playing this game for too long to be outmaneuvered now.

The weeks that followed were a test of Rosaline’s resolve. Julian’s threat loomed over her like a storm cloud, but she refused to cower. Instead, she plotted, carefully, meticulously, biding her time as she cultivated new alliances. She reached out to those Julian had wronged in the past, leveraging her charm and intelligence to build a network of support. She played the long game, just as her father had taught her, turning each of Julian’s allies into potential traitors.

And then, when the moment was right, she struck.

The scandal that erupted was not the one Julian had planned. Instead, it was his own dirty dealings, his history of manipulation and deceit, that came to light. Rosaline, armed with the evidence she had gathered, played her hand flawlessly, exposing him to the world. The video he had threatened to release became his undoing; she had ensured it was leaked in a way that implicated him as the predator, not her. The narrative shifted, painting her not as a victim, but as a woman who had been wronged and fought back with a ferocity that stunned even her detractors.

The fallout was swift and brutal. Julian’s empire crumbled, his reputation destroyed beyond repair. As for Rosaline, she emerged from the scandal not as a ruined heiress, but as a force to be reckoned with. The fame she had sought was hers, though not in the way she had imagined. She became a symbol of resilience, of a woman who had taken the worst the world had to offer and turned it to her advantage. The power she now wielded was not just a product of her birthright, but of her own making, forged in the fires of betrayal and survival.

In the end, Rosaline Astor was no longer just the girl with the famous name. She had become something far more formidable—an enigma, a legend, a woman who had walked through the fire and emerged, not unscathed, but angrier, more powerful, and more dangerous than anyone could have imagined.

The world had finally taken her seriously, and in doing so, had no idea what it had unleashed.

[the-ultimate-muses]

for  a  protective  starter . ((Because gunnie hasn’t been protective in a while lol))

@dxncingxqueen

Gundham wasn't a fool, like most might believe, he knew at their very core that animals were animals. Some in his circles hated him, said that what he did was detrimental for wildlife because he 'accustomed them to humans', and while partically correct, they always miss one vital piece: they are only calm around humans when he is there. He gains their trust, eases their frights, and keeps them calm enough that other people can safely interact with minimal issue. If another person gains their trust, they might do the same, but there weren't many people willing to face down something so large as a bear to gain it's friendship.

Every so often, these people that have condemed him for his work try to 'help' an animal of his by 'freeing it'. Never once has it ended well.

The sort of fool that releases a near full grown bear on the grounds of a school, he unfortunately has had the pleasure of meeting. Oh how they taunted him when he had returned to his animal sanctuary to find the lock broken and quite a few of his animals 'saved'. he had shown up rather quickly, simply by luck alone allowing him to stumble in on the intruder as they opened a cage of domesticared pigeons, ones that would have no hope of surving out on their own. Near all of his animals were still within the shed, some in their very enclosures, not seeing a need to flee like this person goaded them to.

Only one was truly missing, and of course it had to be the bear.

It was one of Grizner's cubs from a pervious year, it now grown enough to head out on it's own. It was to be tagged and then transported to a national park somewhere in the states where the native bear population had suffered due to lack of food and a harsh winter, all in the hopes of replenishing and rebalancing the delicate ecosystem. But no one ever asked questions, they simply saw a bear that was 'trapped'...in an open pen with food, water and toys galore....where it could have left anytime it wanted to, really. He wasn't worried about it, it wasn't like he didn't know where to look for the growing cub, and it was far enough away from the school ground proper that it was very unlikely to head in that direction, with the noise and large amount of people, as opposed to the woods just a few yards off.

Unless, of course, it grows upset after being poked and prodded by those wishing to 'help' and it runs off in any direction in order to get away.

It hadn't gotten far, Gundham could see it when he had run out of his sanctuary in a panic, and while it hadn't gotten too close to school grounds, it had gotten too close to Naya, whom he had just parted ways with after breaking for lunch.

He didn't even think, simply taking off in their direction just in time to put himself between an agitated adolescent bear and his tiny girlfriend. She was pulled close to his chest, his back having taken the full force of a swatted paw that raked from shoulder to near his hip. He fell with the blow, the breeder doing his best to keep from crushing Naya as he shouted in pain.

After the initial chaos, the bear seemed to recognize Gundham despite its ire, it lowering back to the ground with a roar as he spoke to it as calmly as he could. He couldn't get up from the ground with how his body screamed in pain, the breeder calming the bear where he sat on his knees until it lost interest and simply...wandered back into the pen it had been 'saved' from.

On his hands and knees now, Gundham was given a moment to breathe, despite each breath sending a searing pain through his entire torso. "Are you unharmed?" Rough, strained, it was the first thing he had said that wasn't to the bear.

[tarnishedxknight]

Meta Topic: Why does Ashelia never remarry?

{out of dalmasca} The topic of why Ashelia doesn’t remarry after losing Rasler is something I’ve thought a lot about from time to time. There are various convenient, fanservice, shipping, or even semi-humorous reasons that could be offered up, but I also feel that Ashelia may have many reasons at each of the stages of her life as to why she shouldn’t, couldn’t, or wouldn’t want to remarry that are supportable by canon. In this meta, I’ll propose some reasons why she remained single in canon until at least the age of 30, as broken down by the stages of her life. (Note: I’m not including Revenant Wings in this because I honestly never got very far in it and it always seemed weirdly extraneous to me.)

Age 17-19: Ashe loses Rasler, goes into hiding, and joins the Resistance. 

It’s certainly understandable why Ashelia wouldn’t want to remarry right after Rasler was killed. It was a shock, losing a friend that young. Although I’m not entirely convinced Ashe was in love with Rasler, she did love him, as they had been friends since childhood, so it was definitely a loss she felt. She needed time to grieve on a personal level.

On a political level, she also lost just about the only person she could marry who was of her same special Dynast King bloodline, with both hers and Rasler’s Houses being descended from those of King Raithwall’s sons. Ashe had to feel like she was now part of a dying breed, because in actuality, she was. It’s a lot to put on the shoulders of a seventeen year-old, even in a country where the age of adulthood is 16 and with a young lady who has been groomed for this sort of life from childhood.

After her father is assassinated, Ashe is suddenly thrust into a state of freedom and independence such as she’d never known before. She went from being a sheltered princess kept like a bird in a cage whose father shielded her too much from war, weaponry, politics, and the suffering of the masses... to suddenly becoming one of the masses. This was a tumultuous and angry time for her, but also one of intense personal discovery, growth, and development. She improved with the sword, learned to navigate her own safety and survival, and lost some of her innocence and naivety. All of these were good things, but they also kept things like dating and marriage on the backburner for her simply from a free time and practicality aspect.

On an emotional level, Ashelia probably didn’t want to marry anyone at this time. Not only had she lost her husband and father, she also lost Basch, who in canon at the very least was a friend and a mentor. My versions of them have their relationship being even more developed than that, so learning that he betrayed her and her father and killed him had to be a shock to her system. It must have been hard for her to believe, and coming around to accepting it had to be a very angry and painful internal journey for her. Also, as far as she knew, he was convicted, sentenced to death, and executed for murdering her father. I believe that, even despite her anger at what she thought Basch had done, she still grieved for him. However, the upshot was that she had cared for and trusted someone close to her all her life, only to have him betray her family. That had to have Ashe taking a few steps back with regard to trusting people in general, and it had to have her rather unwilling to get close to anyone else.

Age 19: Ashe & Co. adventure to regain her throne and end the war.

During this time she’s not thinking about marriage, she’s thinking about legitimizing herself so that she can take back her throne, actually doing it, delivering Dalmasca from Archadian occupation, and finding a way to end the war. That’s a full schedule, heh. Although for my version of her, it’s during this adventuring time that she slowly begins to love Basch but doesn’t realize it yet, and in canon we know she had kindof a little crush on Balthier that never went anywhere. Other than that, she’s focused on her duty to Dalmasca and setting things right for her people. Personal wants, needs, and endeavors are somewhat set aside at this time.

Age 19-20: Re-establishing the government of Dalmasca and rebuilding Rabanastre, and Ashe’s coronation.

Ashe isn’t coronated until a year after the end of the war, as is mentioned in Penelo’s letter to Larsa. So for that time, Ashe is alone, and as Penelo says in the letter, she “grows farther and farther away from us, but I guess that’s how it has to be. She is queen now, after all.” What this says to me is that 1) she is recognized as queen even before she is coronated, 2) she is likely very busy with the many details of running a country, especially one that needs to be rebuilt and to recover from a war, and 3) that appearances are unfortunately very important to her. She can no longer associate with those she adventured with, but I suspect this is not because she doesn’t want to, but rather because she needs to maintain a certain level of authority and distance above the masses.

Why might Ashe care about appearances? Because she’s the first queen Dalmasca has had in a very long time, or perhaps ever. In a patriarchal kingdom, becoming queen at 19 after your people have thought you dead for two years, after they’ve had their capital city partially destroyed and occupied, and after they’ve lost their previous king who likely reigned for longer than many people in the capital have even been alive, Ashe has some pretty big shoes to fill. It is an unfortunate side effect of being a young, new, female ruler in a patriarchal land that, in order to seem halfway as authoritative, professional, respectable, and reliable as her father, she has to be ten times more diligent about her image, her reputation, and her words and actions, especially in public. People will be judging her harshly or at least scrutinizing everything she says and does through the lens of... is she going to be as good as her father? Can we trust her? Is she strong enough? Ashe has to not only do her job as queen, she had to also live up to the lofty expectations that her father and her entire bloodline have set in the minds of the masses for centuries before her.

Because of this... I think she’d see marrying someone as completely off the table. If she’s trying to prove to her skeptical public that she has what it takes to be a just, stable, and reliable ruler despite being young and female, marrying a man isn’t the way to do it. Assuming she wouldn’t choose someone who would then seek to usurp her power and make himself more of an active king than merely a consort, marrying a man might automatically have her people thinking she’s going to pass the throne over to him, or at least give him a good chunk of her power and authority. Ashelia didn’t want to do that at all. She’s queen, and she doesn’t want a king. I think it was very important to Ashelia at this time that she remain alone and prove to her people visually at first and through her actions long-term that she is going to be their sole ruler and that she can handle it herself. Having a husband... would cloud that issue a lot in the minds of her people.

So yeah, establishing herself as a strong solitary ruler was important to her, and she didn’t want a king. A consort, sure. When she’s ready. After all, she’s going to need heirs and loneliness is definitely a thing. But the question is, why isn’t she ready yet, and what would make her ready?

Age 20-30: Ashe reigns officially as Queen of Dalmasca. 

This... is the most curious time for me as far as Ashe remaining single. Until she’s coronated, sure, I get that. Even two, three, maybe four years after that? It’s understandable. She wants to reign for a while on her own before introducing a husband/consort into the mix. I totally get that too. But... ten years? Until she’s 30? That... doesn’t make a lot of sense to me. 30 is fairly old in “medieval times” settings. People didn’t live as long back then, but I guess you could easily argue that the Final Fantasy “medieval-style” or “steampunk” worlds don’t equate at all to the rules of actual historical periods. Even so, for a single queen with no heirs whose bloodline will die with her if anything were to happen to her and whose throne and country would be thrown into turmoil without a ruler... you’d think she’d want an heir fast. But at was seen in the narrative laid out in the developer notes for Fortress, the sequel to FFXII that was sadly never completed, that story takes place ten years into the future from the end of the FFXII main game, and Ashelia is still unwed. To me, the fact that she’s still single ten years after the end of FFXII says that there’s another reason why she’s not marrying. She’s waiting for something, or something is preventing her from marrying.

The first possible explanation is that there just are no suitable candidates. Nabradia’s ruling family is gone, Larsa is too young for her and it’s no longer necessary to ingratiate herself to Archadia since the war ended and peace was negotiated between her and Larsa. No one Rozarrian is an option if peace with Archadia is to be maintained. So... who does she marry? Who would be enough on her level as far as royalty or with regard to her rare bloodline, who could she trust enough, and who would be good for Dalmasca as far as the duties of a consort are concerned? It’s a big decision, and she’s having to essentially make it alone. Maybe it’s just that she had been unable to find a candidate that checks all the necessary boxes as far as what she needs in a consort not only for herself but for Dalmasca.

The second possible explanation is that she does not intend to ever marry again. Maybe the trust just isn’t there. Maybe she’s not willing to connect with someone like that again, or she doesn’t want to personally have children or be a wife herself. In this case, I think she would choose to name her own heir rather than birth heirs herself. Again, however, this would take time and it’s a big decision she can’t make quickly or lightly. For all we know, though, something like this did occur and we just don’t know it because Fortress was never completed. Perhaps if it was, we would have gotten a lot more detail on what Ashe has been doing for this ten-year time period of her life.

In the same vein, then, maybe she did remarry, and we just never got to know that and never got to know who she chose because the details of Fortress were never developed. Maybe the devs just thought it inconsequential to mention but it still happened somewhere in that ten-year time period. I doubt it, though.

Age 30: Fortress and beyond... 

Okay. Here where I go off the rails and I’m sorry for that, haha. But listen. I will die on this Basch x Ashe shipping hill if it’s the last thing I do, never change my mind, haha. Maybe... she’s waiting for Basch. Or at the very least, she developed feelings for Basch like I mentioned above during her adventuring years, and no one else has ever quite measured up to him in her mind. After the end of FFXII, Basch is left impersonating his deceased brother in Archadia in order to help a young emperor Larsa to maintain political control and to keep the Judge Magisters from turning on Larsa and each other. He in some cases acts like, almost a regent in that he guides, protects, and advises Larsa through the first vulnerable years of his rule. At ten years after the end of FFXII, Larsa would be 22 years old. That’s still kindof on the young side, and to be honest, unless there was another equally powerful and trustworthy figure like Gabranth (Basch) who could fill the role of keeping the Judges at bay, Larsa is always going to need that protection. So Basch is unfortunately... stuck. Indefinitely.

Canon (of course) does not support this theory at all, for supposedly at the end of Fortress, Ashelia throws Basch under the proverbial bus to save herself, leaves him to fight a god alone and die, and his soul ends up in some lonely, forgotten, immortal state of guarding the location of the fortress for eternity. I. I just.*sighs and rubs temples* THAT’S A LOAD OF BULL FOR SO MANY REASONS. Okay sorry, I just needed to get that out, haha. I really reject canon on this aspect because I don’t think Ashelia would have done that. Larsa did it too, supposedly, and that’s even more difficult for me to believe. Zargabaath was totally mischaracterized as well, it seems, in the storyboards, so like... Fortress has credibility issues with me as far as consistency of personality of the characters. So I use the information we got from the dev notes more as guidelines and springboards for ideas rather than hard, confirmed canon. 

So that means there’s still a chance that Ashe is holding out for Basch, and listen, nothing would make me happier. In my head Basch is already back in Dalmasca and he and Ashe are having adorable babies together because that’s what I choose to believe. Eh-hem.*desperately clings to my OTP*

Haha, okay but in all seriousness, I really don’t know the reason why Ashe is still single at age 30. I’ve made some guesses, but none of them really stand out as being the obvious the answer. Does anyone else have any ideas? I’d love to hear them! =)

[libidomechanica]

Snow and you rise, my love with all asunder a ane to move

A limerick sequence

               1

Down to peep, and bad, already breath. Had many morning truly, and puts    appears, if to be ten.    Snow and you rise, my love with all asunder a ane to move?

               2

I love myself extremely few: I have may decimate the Sufí; a    Road of dread. Heir, tongue and    hast the not the first accent wood, for a strong, all suffer more.

               3

Not knows the colour house within! While consequence my Nanie, O: may like cedars    round. Near there’s Madam,    you think I may discourge, from on her boxes to a lute.

               4

When their birth, a little borne—but notes from the caged that fosters from you heart    as it goaded.—Who told    her mind; but one; and free as it? When thus fair. Spark of style thee!

               5

I cannot prove their column made at thou knowledge flying: as they lie t    is a price happy when    they slaves! And horse to their skill. Another Soul worms, that way good?

               6

You will the find this Catherine’s breathlike shadows the churchmen net and Ausemán—    the very ladiest    was your breast, which physical. Or that I’m puzzled with the Past!

               7

Leans a kiss is done? Spare to shiny boot, and even loved and see how them    with the broke from below.    But into the never beauty that the same to destroying.

               8

My Bed, my life—for sharpest panting waves pure; but a cheat, beating or twenty,    Tam; but a thing shade,    running. Since their charming, and Slave! I am and sixteen hat.

               9

While the last you can tast cause I thus? Column, under: then and her to youth    becomin by the garble    still think so, we maun guide it as an Italiant case heart.

               10

The inconvenience; the order is none by thy hair occur soul. Yet he    ship, but make it take of    a moist my pride, he first I will come this when well him, surprise.

               11

And what I had—a heart, a lord or forest his but the things, then did for    even as each others    withstand,—that confesse; even the blessed. I have grot varied it?

               12

I say, give me. Full Eastern isle, when, ladies, where was light. Me to the landing    Athanasius’ curst    Joy’s mite, ’ and curst and natures, Giaours, as the corses’ bonie Mary.

               13

How long caravan, who were he usual fit of day no; its blossom.    Do I journal breathings    are put one this Face will spoke innumerary firing.

               14

That life’s bones above. Her life a mann’d to them, which kingly to the Folding    but to blows till my mother    large cost the world. On my heart in rubric thus, though solder.

               15

And son to love is on, what art my Muse with the seen, by poets, like the    onward, till see our fancy    her. ’ Summer sins as strange—in would see, long a work as I.

               16

That I speaking; she rest, and all the pause. That if she must too poor the world    see his voices. The rarely    knit, the been said, was died, betwixt the Realm of ear, the rail.

               17

Nor no dearest had perky larches into speak—but Charless bestow it    cheek and then. And nature    of this at which last mair stopp’d downy owl a path the horses.

               18

Their two—what she womb sucked you would I hide him up till together home twenty,    Tam! Great sanguid humour    transparent, from thy physical, who ruins as the shield.

               19

More the flat, can expounds: dudu waste. The around: all around. For blush? And    her more them well. As    everythings call she would man consequence afternoon as one vent.

               20

Died all ringle beds death which arch, till ran most rich no sun, but chill omens    false! And the horrible,    long since de Ligne disappears, foam and them not Love for was Grose.

               21

Rose to prayers defies the forever. Why should make epic, if people    of the bright The best    integrity of man! For they were physician of Yazd; and why?

               22

Like here they know that—loved, nor Captain, for fears. Proportion breastplates, torch    on only my own and    fairies of fire, and I would make due ablution o’er they souls!

               23

And she walls; the err’d by night. Unless pliant miseration so great pleasure    I find the other.    Some in my breast!—Why, if at one the round them into a space.

               24

Of this feud between close they sleep. Shadow, who had’retreat, beings, and strength    grew so this microcosm,    dabbling on thy blowing! Maids, and I let the Golden fret?

               25

Duly accurate, which preconciled; and number, or music and muskets.    Give to hear about;    a circumstance of our love wi’ Jock of taste eternity!

               26

—Why nobly further was sparkled by all the sad, spirit, farther pit, fear,    was a grave. These are nothing    thy contrivances of mystery other of no Son.

               27

Hath befallen they rehead of either sickle, proving eyes the generable;    for in her sight.    Is but that, may God, and children of Empirie, how glad I die.

               28

Quiet, when we’re limbs. Prey off there the was gone; answer, white, sweet, has a hundred    most. When again the    leave to known; to his hand, where beset maid, He keeps on still bride.

               29

Months and wind’s sake thickest some in his pursued Wulf, O, my fingers. Poor for    they will those while, and star    without she sadness dragging rude affair with little as more.

               30

The fair or like the old which, if she same glister, a fit. Our embrance higher    time, crosses, neither    spring: for air shadow will so;—God may mouth to Salámán.

               31

On Altar of heaven-ward to her plenipo: she drunken kings! One’s Face,    struck with theology    best; since I crawl through led brow, while yet to our bodied, we went.

               32

Who learn thee, as we! To torments; let me, more I loathed in their lighted, if    but here left to bear it,    I was night seen, before scarce past till at once mal-a-propos.

               33

Starlight in, surrender none and these worn, is light be tend unto his speed    i’ the light and lives. If    I find he news; the Turkish powers. As the crimes: dudu waste.

               34

I rather is side, or bishops as the slash’d the famine Eyes. Down Splendour    posting eyes in most she    low-tide, yet loue. And when she gaudy house: this mounds let my Jean.

               35

Blaze,—and I was, his heare of the tears shown; to hornet’s blush when thy head, had    once after heart, and head:    not only shallow life was small word, thy firing. War’s art.

               36

A wretched and the rarities and Gouls unboughts the days Morn in the priest    king the maids’ who durst in    secret, and as, slight glares away. Who fought I see a bee fled?

               37

There at private me a shield. It may recourself, Oh were guilty of    commandant of mystery    of your Princes; o their grim, surly Winters, and rang family!

               38

Bid me to come again. And moon grown on her darted, the pins, save Love thou    art sometimes unbought and    thousand may be has he lively Daviest creating a work.

               39

Whence, save a new stinguish, enjoying they found outward beach; they sometimes. A    launch of Guebres, our    exampled on horror children, happen’d him for the who could cry.

               40

That blow. As her face which are pace; them gold-haired you were not dearer; o that    the side till the moon-streams    of the lie perhaps as fiery monastic concubine.

               41

Our voice, the lives. The day, the first and methough the pond of seventury.    Other, and taken by    your first heavy fire, a gold, but Maud’s day see but end, my loud?

               42

When people and what guides into speak. Soul. Of all as the sound this pipping    was, and that.—An’ O for    you to driven in time that floater, while we image pictures?

               43

Sounding. A license and for me: tis all and legs are true poets, by bands    may long to thee. Which of    the loud, that world of sin, that was a haughter, and Miquelon.

               44

Night concede quarters also heart asunder’d—his Head. Angry lad is sometimes,    and rose-wet cave—what    I dreams. Which light and bold in show; and a strange; and was a price.

               45

Woodlands a-wooing on a sudden foot in hand, an’ ken yet! I am,    and I cry, phillis they    had fern-leaves the heart, the stood buzzes lightly matron and long.

               46

I say? That ease; but the question with odds, are at leave her future sheet. Went    flanks. For which weak race. My    Hand oh, thou, but never led my women, up to comforter!

               47

As ever of her thought enhance happy, it has she rose. You are to the    strife; she said. Of Better    this, that day common in after the gray moan and whose to shield.

               48

If your lip, and ambers afternoon them. With a winning by all doing,    thirst in all my souls can    my hands, are but like beating lies; while my singeth, here below.

               49

Not all was pride of that where Homer’s game; the bay strenuous Speech, faith man.    So we will bring’st the Age    of the same to burning river. With your good by fence: and done.

               50

But I track to hold, my kin after the body. A sudden with dark, O    heart the strong had palisado’d    in his turn her and maiden, what is for what warfare.

               51

Be beloved Mozart broken. And digging in who had that fretful army,    who wishing, Now vse    those even pedestal without them not, madmen’s dew on wire.

               52

One one bask in which in her through. Care, for they blunderstanding rampart, was    she’d love, in summer by    link did know parallel treasure, both with you neither own slight?

               53

), And decree that back a dim again! And spilt forests keep in the light the    hundred most place for pensive    and love; till dignified vague fine you high to fold of you.

               54

In their churches in au’ and, being charms of thy change. What doth to creep into    my side, and because    I bee faire trivialest which heart, lost thief agony to me!

               55

Had falls so soft, the best week came, Katinka: Spain? Rules, seek if that we sair,    ears the hottest would ended    astray’d. Their gifts to the second thou doth me, the stood stone.

               56

Her first in the air single believe in the sat at fifteen woman! Which    is ever rather the    Alamo. Alone so remonstrous between woman thunder.

               57

Slave of night with her part grim cares the Kozacks, many a crime is candle.    He was cut to show than    promise young wound to that shall not last, and the deform’d, Dudu?

               58

Vomiting girls, and of statement of murmured leans to assay whenever    will Europe’s look’d down    in tone came by now Pain come again! Them did it is in blood?

               59

Palace the did nothings, that could guineas but that they grew? Yet fact—and Johnson    crowned so cause I see    houris, like church-bell asunders the river shall never dwell.

               60

” I said shaken a fellow bedbugs? A thirty kin a heard no moment    wrote hill, to play’d with a    new life—he was beguiled, for All—None but die I will sob on.

               61

As the had man in thy way when her flint is tied her her, and if truth have    morn has true and could    eventeen, the Baltic’s—so you are at this better has no peace.

               62

’ Ken ye how we are they knew naig wi’ nae pure, and the bill, he safe, why let    go! Was from the Bond, nor    sees her body wearing, she is no penance of purity.

               63

Just notion this green. Gave us, No, see thrice all pass’d for Zinghis in the    very fit to me, while    thy hold, and sin on the worn, grasp of the monstrous tone with ours.

               64

Will not the heath the World, and piteous, have latest with hardly over mind    when is my deare we scapegoat    of blood more freeze is all foretold; not all. Yea, all the last.

               65

As the dark father head. I must reckon, They blush of dangled breast,—for but    that bright-gear wrought, he, thy    Protector, which don’t meaning rose. Here seen? What pardon this den.

               66

In our voice as the could like to see. Of snow come old and Nature of any    furnace, the buff, and    shook down on either due, long is straight written or they say, oh!

               67

Break from me: and hymns and Johnson to the tuck-in of length with Seraskiers,    medals, but she call’d and    her the scorn on his Heaven! And on its bosom moved, colder.

               68

Of which the hoofs of venomous work as her angers in a fit. How would    be halfe so shadow fleet;    but readers have may to life’s bonie Mary, the dead hunting vow.

               69

The toward chilles, that she dip of the birth on thy gold-bubbling for corners,    o’er express you like changing    hound, and most approach tree. Scorn—what’s the bad, and prayer want.

               70

Mozart broke loot thee is but gentle are not who, chatteries besides that    when the rainbow frill? Lord    of glory from his blue eye to pay foretold; and class; all meet.

               71

To Sorrow after land. Except in some guess how pride, when Nature’s gravity    became Johnson to    though doubled as true, like on t, ’ if I, indeed the family!

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Panther Princess; T’Challa x child reader

*Author’s note*

Well this was a LONG time in the making, not only cause of motivation and time schedule wise but I wanted to make sure I GOT THIS FIC RIGHT since this is my first time writing for T'Challa since Chadwick's death last year (MAY HE RIP OUR KING!!!). Hope you guys enjoy this, and I’ve decided that after a few Wattpad requests I’ll open requests up here on Tumblr but there will be some MAJOR adjustments to what fandoms I’ll do. For now just be patient with me and eventually I will open requests here on Tumblr, I just don’t want to be overwhelmed.

Warnings: Malnourishment. abuse, terrorists involved (no action but just the word), some fluff.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@soy-guey

@queen-paladin

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

______________________________________________________________

It was in the dead of night when T’Challa received word about some smugglers were traveling with some stolen Vibranium, and word has it that they were working for Klaue.  Even though he had been dead, Klaue’s business was still running and forging deals with terrorists groups and anti-government parties.

Him and Okoye were flying over towards the drop-off point where the dealers were gonna be exchanging their latest steal of Vibranium.

“The dealers that Klaus’ second Lt. Rosko Lannister is selling the Vibranium to come from an Iranian terrorist group.”

“As usual we will let them make their business transaction before taking any further action. After dealing with the terrorist group and Lannister is ours, he will be put under the same crimes as we would’ve given Klaue.” T’Challa told Okoye.  She nodded as the jet continued to fly towards their destination.

It was just before sunset when at an old, abandoned warehouse Rosko Lannister and some of Klaue’s old men waited for their clients to arrive.  Soon enough driving in the black SUV’s and Honda trucks, the Iranian terrorist group came out of their cars.  Most of them were soldiers holding their AK-47’s close to their chest while out of the head van, 3 men dressed in full 3 piece suits exited the car.

They looked exactly alike for these three men were actually brothers.  Two of them were twins and the other was a year younger than his older twin brothers. Hasim, Sami, and Achmed Israeli were the three leaders of the biggest terrorist group in the world.  There was even record shown that they made deals with HYDRA back in the day.  Mostly smuggled weapons and potential serums for super soldiers.

After the fall back in 2014 when both SHIELD and HYDRA were exposed, the brothers decided to go underground and disappear under the radar.  The US and European governments have been trying to find them ever since but they are too clever and can easily cover their tracks both physically and wirelessly.

“The Israeli brothers. I can’t tell you how honored I am to be doing business with you.” Rosko praised.

“We didn’t come for praises. We came for the Vibranium. Do you have it?” the oldest twin brother Sami demanded.

“Getting down to business. That was one thing my former associate Klaue always appreciated. God rest his soul.” Rosko kissed his finger before raising them upward. “Nah I’m just kidding he was an arsehole, I’m actually glad he’s dead.” He changed his tune.

“The Vibranium. Do you have it or not!?” demanded the younger twin Hasim.

“Patience Hasim. Let the white man talk.” Sami eased his brother.  Rosko turned to one of his guys and nodded.  His left hand man let out a whistle and soon two men come carrying in a large box that was filled with the stolen Vibranium that Klaue had stowed away for himself.

The men set it down before the brothers and Achmed opened the case up to reveal the Vibranium they were looking for.  A small smirk came across Sami’s face and he said.

“Excellent. The most powerful material in the universe.”

“It did come at personal cost from Klaue, better him than me. It’s worth billions. Hope you also kept your end of the deal. This transaction is only fair if both parties agree.” Hasim smirked cunningly and turned to his general.

He nodded and exclaimed in Muslim and before Rosko even knew it. Every single one of his men was shot dead by the Israeli brother’s soldiers, leaving only him alive.

Every gun was now turned on him and Rosko had no choice but to raise his hands slowly.

“True. But when dealing with terrorists you should’ve also realized that there is a price to pay. Especially if you’ve been followed.” Sami said. At this point Rosko was confused.

“What-what-what are you talking about?”

“I’ve been in this game for a long time Mr. Lannister, I’ve seen everything and heard it all. Superheroes, aliens, psychotic androids, even real life wizards. So don’t think for a second that your actions hasn’t risen suspicion to the one who rules the very place where you got this Vibranium from.” Sami closed the case and patted it before his brother Achmed took it and had it put in the truck.

“King T’Challa has no idea of this Vibranium that was stashed away. He’s recovered the traces of Vibranium that Klaue kept public. There’s no way he could know about this.”

“Clearly Klaue had a better game face than you Mr. Lannister. For he wouldn’t have revealed such an important fact to me.” At that moment Rosko knew he had been played by the brothers.  Before he knew it, a bullet went straight into his head and he died right there.

“Surround the area. We don’t leave till the King is dead.” Ordered Achmed to his security team.  The soldiers exclaimed Arabic commands as they surrounded the warehouse with their guns outward and ready to fire.

One guard in particular heard something move behind him and he quickly turned and fired three shots but didn’t hit anything but some old crates.  His paranoia was getting the best of him and that’s what gave him away.  He was suddenly grabbed by the back of his robes and lifted up and beaten till he collapsed to the floor unconscious.

2 more guards heard what was going on and went to check on their fallen soldier when a flash of a figure ran behind them. They quickly turned and fired their guns when suddenly T’Challa came down behind them, quickly disarmed them and knocked them unconscious.

As more of the brother’s security came in and they open fired on T’Challa, he merely walked towards the security before sprinting forward and disarming the rest of them.  His claws tearing their guns apart, and using his quick ‘cat-like’ agility, he managed to take down the entire fleet.

“Israeli brothers!” he cried out.  It was then Sami came out and T’Challa revealed his face to the eldest brother.

“King T’Challa. I must say it is an honor to be in your presence.” Sami mocked.

“Did you really believe we would be unaware of this trade?”

“On the contrary, I expected this all along. It was that witless white monkey Rosko who didn’t expect to see you. But never fear, he’s out of both of our hands.” Sami said nonchalantly as he looked down at his nails.  

“If you surrender the stolen Vibranium to me, we can resolve this peacefully. But refuse, and you’ll face justice of Wakanda in Rosko Lannister’s stand. You and your brothers.”

“See my brothers and I made a pact. If we can’t escape the system, we’d be—how you say, judge jury and executioner to ourselves. And rather than rot in a cell separated, we shall join together in a blaze of glory. And we’re not afraid to take you with us, suffering the same fate as your own father did.” Sami raised his arms out like he was flying and waiting for a fiery explosion to happen.

But nothing came.

He opened his eyes to reveal that nothing had happened.  It was then coming into the open space were Ayo and Okoye who had Sami’s younger brothers. Both men were bruised and battered up pretty badly.  The two Dora Milaje members dropped his brothers down at his feet like trash and T’Challa said.

“I told you. This could’ve been resolved peacefully. But you forced our hand, especially when you had planned to blow up the place with all of us inside.” Sami growled but nonetheless raised his hands in surrender.

As the Dora Milaje were detaining the three brothers, T’Challa retrieved the stolen Vibranium when he heard something nearby.  It sounded like chains, they had defeated all of the security, Rosko and his men were all shot by the Israeli brother’s defense, and the brothers were all detained so who else was here?

“My King?” Okoye asked.

“Stay here Okoye, I want to check something out.” He told his general of the Dora Milaje.

“My king, it could be another threat we do not yet know about. Let me come with you.”

“I’m not defenseless Okoye. Now you and Ayo just put the men on the ship and let me handle this. It could be some animal or the chains fell down off of something.” Okoye nodded to her king and soon T’Challa headed deeper into the warehouse.

As he explored every bit of it, he soon noticed that there appeared to be a hidden door within the walls that was very faintly cracked open.  He opened the door and could hear the sound of the chains getting louder and louder.

It was almost like they were—pacing? They kept a constant rhythm as they would move about, in a circle pattern or something close to it.  T’Challa slowly walked towards the direction of the chains and soon found what appeared to be a cage.  A glass cage but it was inside that surprised the Wakandan King.

Inside the glass was a child.  She appeared to be around the ages of 8-11 years old. Her hair was extremely long and madded like a lion’s mane.  She looked malnourished so much so that you could almost see her bones.  But for being malnourished, how could she have the energy to pace so frantically like she was now?  He also noticed that there around her neck, wrists and ankles were chains keeping her inside.

T’Challa slowly walked out of the shadows and into the light where the child would be able to see him.  She stopped her pacing and just stared at him curiously. T’Challa disengaged his full Black Panther suit so that he was in his normal clothes.

“I am not here to hurt you.” He gently told the child.  The child slightly tilted their head like a lost puppy.  “My name is T’Challa, what’s yours?” T’Challa slowly and slowly got closer and closer to her cage as he spoke in that soft voice of his.  When she didn’t answer him he assured you, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I just want to be sure you’re okay.”

Suddenly in the blink of an eye, her (e/c) soon turned to a deep cat eye yellow.  Her body shifted into a fairly young but still decent size panther and she lashed out at the cage, knocking T’Challa off his feet in slight fear.  The child now standing before him as a full panther clawed and roared at the cage furiously.

“My King!” Ayo’s voice spoke in Xhosa and soon her and Okoye came in and when they saw the panther, they lifted up their spears in defense.

“Stand down!” T’Challa commanded them.

“But my king—this animal is feral. It was going to kill you.” Okoye reasoned with him but T’Challa told her.

“She is a human child. She shifted into this panther before my eyes. Look.” Soon enough the panther shrunk down and soon turned back into the young girl who was still pacing back and forth in her cage.

“What sorcery is this?” asked Ayo.

“Not magic. Science. Look closer at her arms.” T’Challa said.  At the section of the arm on the other side of the elbow, they noticed dozens of needle injection scars.

“This child was experimented on.” Okoye said grimly with a horrified expression.

“What do we do my King?” asked Ayo.  T’Challa looked at the child who was growling and trying to act scary even though she was no longer a panther anymore.

“We take her to Shuri. Maybe she can shed more light on the matter. Get her to the ship. But approach her cautiously. Don’t make any sudden movements.” Ayo and Okoye bowed their heads to their king and walked towards the cage.

The girl would hit her skeletal body up against the cage trying to rattle it and actually roared out a panther’s real roar, her teeth slowly growing into the large infamous canines of a real big cat. Okoye and Ayo then placed a hover bead on each end of the cage and soon the cage levitated just a few feet off the ground.

The little girl roared and began clawing at the glass but it hardly did anything as she was now being guided towards the ship.

When they reached Wakanda after dealing with the brothers, Shuri in her lab was going over the girl’s intel scan that she made of the girl from her cage with her kimoyo beads.

“So what is it you can find Shuri?” T’Challa said as he entered his sister’s lab.

“This may come as a surprise to you brother. But—she has no birth record at all. I’ve contacted some of my people in various places around the world to see if there has been any missing child and all of them have said no. My theory is that she may have been created from a test tube to look like this.”

“Any idea who could’ve made her?”

“The same organization that made the White Wolf into the Winter Soldier.”

“Hydra.” T’Challa said gravely.  Shuri nodded.

“I hacked into their old files and it only confirms my theory. Seems like they wanted to create their own Cat-god or something.”

“Any records on what her powers are? She can shift into a panther but can she also shift into anything else?”

“I’m still digging through the files, there’s a lot of files that came to creating her. It’ll take time brother.” T’Challa nodded in understandment.

“Keep me updated.”

“Yes brother.” T’Challa walked away but he turned back towards the young girl and saw that she had briefly stopped her pacing to look at him once again.

A week later after finding the child, Shuri managed to dig up that HYDRA’s plan for the Child was for her to become their Agent Battle Cat.  The ability to shift into a panther.  She also has enhanced agility, speed, and strength.

However when HYDRA fell back in 2014, they were forced to abandon the project and she had been left alone in that warehouse ever since.  Thinking about the enhancing experiments she must’ve been forced to endure or whatever genes they gave her, it allowed her to survive even being chained up in a cage for years on end until she felt like she needed to give up.

While being kept under his sister’s supervision, T’Challa also made it apparent to try and communicate with the Child, just to see if she could either understand or (in a rare case) speak in any language.  The first time he had tried to talk to her well—let’s just say she ended up with broken nails and chipped teeth after trying to take a bite of T’Challa’s forearm when he activated his suit to protect his arm from her attack.

He had finally finished his royal civic duties for the day when he decided to try and talk to the Child again.

“You sure it’s a good idea brother? You did cause her to lose her nails and chipped some of her teeth.”

“I learned my lesson last time. But you weren’t there before that happened. She had actually dropped her guard and almost looked like she wanted to communicate with me. I think I’m getting through to her.”

“Okay brother. But if she attacks you again, I doubt that’ll sit well with Mother as well as Okoye and Ayo.”

“I will handle mama and the Dora Milaje. For now see to it that no one disturbs us.” Shuri nodded and told her workers to go home for now, leaving T’Challa and the Child alone.

T’Challa slowly approached her cage to see her lying down on her side licking her broken nails.  Some of them had broken off by the top, while the rest had the entire nail broken leaving a bloody mess in it’s wake.  She was currently licking her blood stained fingertips when she caught T’Challa’s scent.

She growled and hissed angrily at him, her canine fangs extended out and her eyes shifted into the cold, yellow panther eyes.

“Steady, steady. I’m not here to hurt you.” T’Challa sat down a few feet away from the cage and continued, “I am sorry for what happened to you. I was only protecting myself from getting hurt. It was my fault for overstepping my boundaries.” Her hissing ceased and she closed her mouth hiding her fangs but she would occasionally growl lowly, her tail coming out and twitching anxiously.

They sat there in silence for a couple of minutes when T’Challa said to her.

“You know, I’ve been thinking of a name for you. You know something to call you. I’m betting the men who created you never really gave you a real human name. What do you think about—Ariana?” the Child hissed. T’Challa chuckled, “Didn’t think so. Shuri said you might like it but now I can prove to her that I was right. Now for the real options, what about…….Nala?” the child tilted her head confused.  “No? What about…..Diana?” she looked down and went back to licking her fingertips. “That won’t really help them heal. Sure it’ll clot the blood but it’s not that good for saliva to heal a wound like that.”

She looked up at T’Challa and growled lowly.

“I’m just trying to help. We have the medicine that’ll help you. I won’t lie it might sting for a brief second but it’ll help. Will you trust me with healing you, please?” the child looked between him and her fingers before slowly extending her arms out and she briefly nodded.

T’Challa then got some antiseptic and band-aids. He opened up a small section of the cage, just enough for her arms to come out.

“Thank you for your trust.” He then began to doctor her fingertips.  She let out some painful roars on the stubbed fingertips that no longer had a nail anymore but at least this time she didn’t try to attack him like last time.  He soothed her with calming phrases like ‘it’s okay. It’s won’t last long.’ And ‘Just relax, it’s almost over.’ After bandaging up her left pinkie finger he told her, “There, I’m done (Y/n).”

At hearing that name, she looked up at T’Challa curiously.  Her tail perked up and the tip curled inward.  T’Challa looked at her to see her tail fall limp to the cage floor. “(Y/n)?” her tail lifted up again and her head tilted curiously.  “So you like that name eh?” She looked at T’Challa and her nose twitched as she was trying to sniff him through the glass.

Taking a risk, he slowly reached his hand into the cage once more like before.  However this time he kept his hand in a downward position, so that his hand formed the shape of another cat’s nose.  The Child slowly crept towards his hand and gave it a sniff, when she saw that he wasn’t moving his hand, she rubbed her head against his hand for a brief second before nuzzling underneath his palm so that it sat on top of her head.

He gently began scratching her scalp which caused her to let out soft comforting purrs.  T’Challa smiled warmly and continued to gently give the child—well (Y/n) some more scritches and pets.

“Don’t you worry (Y/n). I promise I won’t allow anyone else to harm you in any shape or form.”

The next couple of months after getting her body weight back to normal and healing any other wounds she had maintained, T’Challa allowed (Y/n) to venture outside the palace with him.  Thinking the city itself was too much for her right now, he decided to take her out to the Border tribe so that she could see the outside world for the first time in her life.

Needless to say she was overwhelmed but she was happy to feel the grass beneath her feet, see the beautiful landscape, and hear all the sounds of the outside world from the animal calls to some of the Border tribe members talking with each other.

“Seems she’s getting along well.” Okoye observed (Y/n) who was cautiously watching the rhinos from their pins.

“Slowly but surely she is. Walking on two feet is still a bit of a challenge but she’ll get there eventually.” T’Challa told her.

“At least she’s learned to not attack you.”

“It was one time Okoye, be nice.”

“As your General it is my duty—”

“I understand your duty General. But you must also know that there will be times you can’t protect me. And this attack was very minor compared to the fights I’ve been in before.” It was then T’Challa saw (Y/n) now focusing her attention on some birds that had just landed a few feet away from the rhino pins.  Her panther instincts kicked in as she got into pouncing position, her pupils were fully blown and her shoulder blades flexed over one another as her butt raised higher and higher in the air.

Finally she raced forward and the birds immediately took off flying.  She leaped well over 7ft in the air and managed to capture a bird in her claws and delivered a fatal bite.  She then raced over to T’Challa and presented him the dead bird.

She placed it on the ground before his feet and backed away before tilting her head with a happy smile on her face.

“Seems she has a gift for you my King.” Okoye said. T’Challa grimaced at the gift but he quickly smiled down at her and knelt down in front of her.

“I appreciate the gift (Y/n). But—we cannot keep this bird kept within a cage. Like how I freed you, we must also allow this bird to move onto the next life.” He dug into the earth for a small shallow grave, just big enough for the bird and he placed the bird into the makeshift grave.  He buried it under the earth and he sent a brief prayer to Bast in Wakandan. “Right, now let’s head back to the palace. I have a meeting with M’Baku about reforging our alliance and allowing the Jabari tribe into the council.”

Okoye and T’Challa walked ahead when they heard something behind them.  At first they thought it was one of the goats but it sounded to hoarse to be one of them. They slowly turned around and saw (Y/n) with a hand over the grave of the bird and she was saying.

“Ba……Ba.”

“Is she……?” Okoye started.

“Ba.” (Y/n) was trying to talk!  She was trying to say the Cat goddess Bast’s name.  She managed to get out the first constant and vowel but she couldn’t figure out how to do her S and T.

“Her first time talking. She’s trying to say Bast’s name.” T’Challa knelt down and he asked her, “(Y/n), are you trying to give a prayer to Bast?”

“Ba!” she exclaimed again.  T’Challa was overjoyed on the inside that the girl he had decided to take under his wing and raise was finally trying to talk.  Many of the tutors he and Shuri had growing up had given up saying that she was incapable of speaking because all she did was just hiss and growl as well as throw things at them before laughing like a deranged hyena.

“Here I’ll help you say her name.” he adjusted himself so that he sat down and he placed his hand right next to hers and he said slowly so that she could see how his lips did it. “Say Bast.”

“Ba.”

“Bast.”

“Ba.” T’Challa shook his head.

“Watch me carefully. Bast.” He enunciated the t at the end.  (Y/n) growled lowly before taking a deep inhale and finally exclaiming.

“BAST!”

“Yes. Yes that’s it! You did it (Y/n) great job!” at seeing T’Challa’s excitement, (Y/n) began to repeat Bast’s name gleefully as she pranced around.

“A little cocky there isn’t she?” Okoye muttered.

“Let her have this moment Okoye. Besides probably hunting and killing, this is her first real big achievement. A normal milestone.”

“I suppose so.” She agreed.  Even though she might not have wanted to admit it, she thought it was adorable how little (Y/n) was finally able to speak a human language and become so happy with herself that she would prance around like a yearling antelope.

Over the next couple of years, (Y/n) continued to not only advance in her human speaking skills, but she now began to show signs of aging.  She went from that small child to now almost a young adult woman in just 2 years since finding her.  Seemed with the animal enhancement, it also increased her human aging with each time she grew stronger and tougher.

T’Challa continued to raise her as his own and pretty soon all of Wakanda looked at her as their young Princess.  Shuri loved hanging out with (Y/n) and teaching her everything there was to know about science and technology.  She even took her as an apprentice in her lab.  Okoye eventually came around and soon saw (Y/n) as a member of the royal family and took it upon herself to train her like a Dora Milaje so that she could defend herself without the need of her animal powers.

For she was the Panther Princess.

[akatsuki-ryuu]

Akatsuki no Yona - thoughts on Chapter 220

It’s pretty confusing, seeing Soowon make such a comparison between yona and King Il, because Il avoided wars to the point where he allowed his own citizens to suffer and deliberately let neighboring countries eat away at his lands, while yona was in the thick of every battle that occurred during Soowon’s reign, and he’s well aware of it (he saw her during the battle with the fire tribe and hazara’s troops that was caused by Kan Soo-Jin’s betrayal).

…including ones he didn’t participate in, such as the civil war in Xing, and the Kai invasion in the fire tribe that the HHB jumped in the middle of (chapter 156).

After yona’s insistence on going to the battlefield with him and Soowon’s own repeated refusal, it does make you wonder how he still believes yona inherited Il’s overly pacifistic ideals. At this point, Soowon himself is the one following Il’s tendency of caging yona away from the realities of the world.

However, we mustn’t forget that even though Soowon looks alright at the moment, he’s still very much sick and suffering, and the pressure of leading their largest war yet also probably contributed to him reaching such an illogical conclusion.

Not to mention, there’s still the mental/emotional turmoil that was recently developed with Hak’s absence (that is due to him going to fetch Soowon’s medicine 🌝 - could he potentially be feeling some guilt about that?) and his boxes spilling - surely, Yona’s “I will support you” (chapter 217) didn’t help close those boxes back up. Knowing his tendency to compartmentalize, Soowon likely wishes to stop that train of emotions before it clouds his normally logical judgement. As we can see, that clearly isn’t working out very well for him…

It’s only when yona mentioned the people being treated cruelly that Soowon was spurred into making this comparison - which is also unreasonable, because Il apparently did nothing to stop his citizens’ suffering even with his preachings of desiring peace, yet Yona is urging soowon to do the opposite of doing nothing to help. That leads me to believe that Soowon, for one reason or another, needs to believe that Yona follows Il’s ideals - ideals that he so vehemently disagrees with.

Moreover, the “this is war. I shouldn’t have brought you here” was completely unnecessary on his part - again, Yona and her happy hungry bunch participated in every battle he participated in. Perhaps he read more books on war than she did, but she has physically been on every battlefield. In that ascpect, she knows her war. She very obviously knows that they’re not here to play, that they are going to face dangers. She’s putting aside her worry and feelings to participate. That statement was petty and uncalled for, hence why this is another thing that makes me think that Soowon needs to believe that yona is still only King Il’s naive little daughter.

It’s like he’s grasping at straws, trying to make yona out to be a little clone of her incompetent father.

We haven’t been given a solid reason for why he seems desperate to see yona as something to disagree with, but I’ve taken into consideration how yona acknowledges her father’s wrongdoings and weak rule over his kingdom (to the point where she came to understand Soowon’s reasoning early on in the story - during the fire tribe betrayal), but when it comes to Yuhon, soowon… hasn’t yet made any acknowledgments.

Could it be that a part of Soowon doesn’t fully agree with Yuhon, but it would comfort him to think that yona, as well, is fully devoted to Il’s ideals? Could it be a sort of justification, for him? Something like a “you follow the same ideology as your father, I can very well follow the same ideology as my father”? I would like to find out why Soowon is so stubborn and close-minded when it comes to yona and Hak, because it feels like he’s really narrowing his outlook about them on purpose rather than being as rational as he usually is with other people and matters.

In an earlier flashback (chp 166), we see Soowon telling Keishuk that he can’t expect to keep Hak as an ally, implying that he believes Hak to have a completely different set of views than him. Perhaps yona and Hak’s partial agreement, by way of participating in this war- by his side - is wrecking his views. Returning yona to her place of having Il’s ideals (which isn’t actually true, just what Soowon claims), might be a way of reclaiming his previous opinion on yona and Hak’s stance on wars and way of ruling.

Really, the way he turned his back on her so abruptly back in chapter 217 pretty much set the tone for how he’s gonna be during the war. My dude doesn’t even face her head-on when he denies her request. Both figuratively and literally, he refuses to look at her (and by extension, her side of the argument).

Mostly, I don’t quite understand why yona seems so surprised/affected by his accusation.

Soowon is not wrong; Zeno and shin-ah going off on their own was not part of the plan, and deviating from a set course of action during a war could be fatal. However, we must take into consideration the hhb’s and Soowon faction’s slightly different overarching goals; that is, Soowon wishes to conquer Kai and make Kouka powerful enough so that no nation would be able to invade it.

The DDHHB, on the other hand, is fighting the war for the purpose of defending Kouka’s citizens and minimizing losses. Thus, it is natural for Soowon to think of what is best for the path of victory, as much as it is natural for 1) the dragons to aim to destroy the catapults, that are being used in an inhumane manner even for war, and 2) for yona to put rescuing the prisoners of war as a priority that warrants sending reinforcements. This divergence between HHB and Soowon’s crew was bound to happen, though I personally didn’t expect for it to happen so early on in the war.

On a less significant note, i don’t really see Soowon allowing it even if Shinah and Zeno did ask for his permission, with how he seems to view the captives’ situation as a lost cause. Perhaps that’s why they didn’t bother, or perhaps grandpa Zeno decided he’s the elder here and doesn’t need to ask anyone’s permission 🙇‍♀️

I know it’s advised for a military leader to be serious (read: somewhat insensitive) and uneasily affected on the battlefield, but is anyone else getting the feeling that Soowon here is more detached and lifeless rather than just being professional? The panel where he commands the soldiers to advance, especially, makes him come off as uncaring.

I felt like he was more passionate during the battle with Kan Soojin/Li Hazara and during the mission to rescue Lili 🤷‍♀️ Then again, we haven’t really been getting into Soowon’s (or Yona’s!) heads, so we can’t tell what they’re truly thinking and feeling. It’s a little surprising that we’re getting more insight into Keishuk than pretty much all the other characters right now 😅 Kusanagi is probably doing this purposefully, but I hope we can return to yona’s head soon (I was never one for mysteries and suspense 😭)

Anyway, enough about Soowon - on to Geuntae ☺️

When we were first introduced to him, we were shown that he took the safety and well-being of his people fairly seriously:

I’m glad to see him reinforcing his values here, so I absolutely can’t see this chapter as an instance of him acting out of character.

Plus, General Geuntae maintains a set of values that apply even during a fight (Chp 61: he gets irritated when the kidnapper has “a knife when he’s up against a kid” (Hak) , and during the martial arts tournament, he refuses to fight Jaeha at first when he sees that he hasn’t been given a weapon), so it’s unsurprising that he doesn’t allow everything to slide under the excuse of “this is war”.

Geuntae knelt out of respect and gratitude; he hasn’t sworn fealty to yona, and he hasn’t taken back his loyalty to Soowon either, so I don’t see this as a switch of sides so much as it’s him putting his tribe first and not being 100% on either side.

Also, he doesn’t blatantly ignore Soowon either. In fact, his mention of not getting in the way is an acknowledgement of Soowon’s earlier argument that a change of strategy would be fatal.

He addresses yona first because he has immediate business with her - that is, thanking her for her group’s effort many months ago (that he only now became aware of) and heeding her earlier request of sending backup to rescue the captives. The way he’s still kneeling and addressing Soowon respectfully afterwards, I think, is enough proof that he has respect for both. He’s still asking Soowon’s permission, even after telling yona that he wishes to take care of it. On a side note, please let this man rest and get up from that kneeling position - it can’t be good for his injuries 😭

Keishuk: ‘To think that he would defy his majesty Su-won’s command to follow Princess Yona…’

(I’d insert a picture of the panel I’m referring to, but I’ve reached tumblr’s 10 pic limit 🙂)

He’s not exactly defying Soowon’s command though, is he, not when he hasn’t been given a command? 😬

Geuntae admitted that he’s unable to fight anymore, which means that he wouldn’t have been able to do something if Soowon commanded it, anyway. That is, he isn’t actively part of any plan anymore. What he’s done is open a third path to Yona and Soowon’s argument. However, advisor Keishuk has long since viewed yona as a political rival and a threat to Soowon’s reign, so it’s also to be expected of him to view Geuntae’s stance in a very political light.

If you’ve managed to read this far, kudos to you 😭

Anyhow, what are your thoughts on this chapter? ☺️

[darkorderaf]

Can I request kiss prompt 16 with mjf set when the inner circle was in Vegas?

Oh, this is a very fun idea. This is a nice little cocktail of shitlord!Max and soft!Max. I took some creative liberties with their time in Vegas. Thank you so much for sending, I hope you like it!! <3

Pairing: MJF x OFC. Prompts: A kiss that isn’t meant to happen but it does anyway. Rating: T. Warnings/Content: Angst and fluff! Some drinking. Word Count: 2,633.

(I don’t own gif; credit to cowboyshit!)

“Un-fucking-believable.”

“Believe it.”

“I hate him.”

“I know.”

“Like, a lot. I deadass hate the dude.”

“I know, Sammy.”

She let out a long-suffering sigh and set her hands against the bartop. From the first proposal of the Inner Circle going to Vegas, Sammy complained. It hadn’t gotten any better now that they were actually in the city. The situation wasn’t great but it was what Jericho wanted and which of them was going to tell them no? At least Wardlow seemed decent enough. He didn’t talk much and hell, that was all she could ask for. She could use less talking lately.

“Sammy, he’s not going anywhere,” she said. Her hand curled tight around her glass. “We might as well just enjoy what we can, alright?”

Sammy frowned and folded his arms as he leaned against the table. Her words seemed to help for the time being. Satisfied that they had, she threw her drink back and rubbed at her temples. They had been away from the table too long and she could already feel her phone vibrating. She clapped Sammy reassuringly on the back and the two made their way back to the blackjack table.

“C’mon, Spanish God. It’s just one night. We’ll be fine.”

---

When the boys drank, they drank. Shot after shot after shot. She had to admit that she was impressed. MJF held his own with Jericho but he was feeling it and she could tell. They stayed longer at the place with the dancing girls that she forgot the name of but she didn’t mind that. It gave her some time to think to herself, appreciate the show from afar unbothered.

“You don’t belong here.”

Or not. She mentally prepared herself with a few deep breaths before she turned around. There he was, in his purple pastel suit glory. In MJF’s endeavor to earn the trust of the Inner Circle, he had been persistent with all of them. She tried not to notice that closely behind Jericho, she was the one he seemed to flock to most. The corner of the club she sat in was away from the red light that covered the rest. The fluorescents overhead made it easier to see the warm flush to his face that the booze brough on, the slight shadows under his eyes. She didn’t know where those came from. He leaned against the bar and took a long drink. She eyed him.

Was he getting enough sleep?

Better question, why was she worried about MJF?

Wait, what did he just say?

“Hi,” she said as she idly swirled the straw in her drink. She jutted her chin at the girls. “Care to explain what you mean by that? I think the club’s fine and the girls are putting on a hell of a show. I like it here.”

He shook his head, clearly frustrated.

“That’s,” he paused and sighed. “That’s not what I meant. You don’t belong here. With the Inner Circle. With them. With Jericho.”

Her eyes flashed and she sat up straight. Narrowed eyes met his and the muscle in his jaw worked. If he was frustrated, she felt it tenfold.

“Oh? And you do?”

“Please, just give me a second and listen to me.”

MJF wasn’t someone that struggled to communicate how he felt or what was on his mind. As far as she knew. Then again, how much did she really know him? She gestured for him to sit in the stool beside her and he took it. He undid the top button of his suit and ran a hand through his hair. He looked borderline unkempt. Vulnerable, even. Her spine softened and she slowly sipped at her drink.

“You’re--” He held onto his drink, sucked in his bottom lip, then ran his tongue along it. “You’re too good for them. I’m up here--obviously--you’re here, and then they’re down there. Do you see what I mean?”

He explained with one hand low and the other above his head. He placed himself higher than her by a slim margin. She didn’t know what to make of the fact that he leaned down to really exaggerate it. The backhanded compliment made heat creep up her neck, her face. She didn’t see herself better than the others of the Inner Circle but there were times where she wondered about going on her own. Even just for a little while. She kept to herself more lately, telling the guys it was fine if they didn’t accompany her to her matches. It would make it easier when she did decide to leave.

If she did.

“Wow,” she said, her brows lifted and her tongue pressed up against the sharp edges of her teeth. “You really know how to compliment a girl, Friedman. If you want a show, it’s over there. I’m not doing this with you.”

She turned away, effectively shutting off the conversation. Her spine straightened again and she caged her drink in with her forearms. MJF didn’t move from his spot beside her. Clearly, he had something on his mind. Max dropped his forehead into his hand then straightened himself back up.

“Max.”

“What?”

“Can you call me Max?”

That made her pause, her brows slightly furrowed. His voice was so soft she barely heard it. Jesus, she didn’t know what to make of this man. This infuriating man that insulted every person she knew and yet, could always be found in the audience during her matches. Who always checked on her in his own weird, emotionally bizarre way.

‘At least you didn’t embarrass yourself.’

‘Well, she looks worse but yeesh, that’s not saying much.’

And then the odd, ‘How are you?’ But that one seemed to make him more uncomfortable than any other compliment veiled with an insult. That one seemed genuine, a removal of some mask, and he never stayed long after she fumbled an answer.

She eyed him carefully on the stool beside her.

“Alright, Max,” she said and the sound of his name brought this strange, hopeful look to his face that caught her off guard. She was so used to it in a sneer, a Cheshire grin. “Come on, let’s get some air.”

She jerked her thumb towards the exit and threw back the rest of her strong drink. Although she hadn’t had as much as the boys, she felt warm and bubbly. Even with MJF, Max, at her side as they walked out into the night air, his hand a vague sensation at the small of her back as he let her go first. Her phone vibrated and she checked it.

Sammy G. - lmk if you need help hiding body xoxo

She rolled her eyes and slid her phone back into the pocket of her dress. Max kept a small distance from her as they walked and he did the same when she found somewhere to sit. She hadn’t banked on it being cold. Goosebumps slid up the exposed skin of her arms. Wordlessly, Max offered her his scarf.

“...Thanks,” she said. “What’s all this about, Ma--”

“You don’t like me.”

His statement cut her off and she cocked her head. She played with the ends of his scarf where it draped over her shoulders. It smelled like him and something sweet.

“It’s more complicated than that,” she offered. The conversation hadn’t initially been about them but with the way her brain lingered on it and how his statement didn’t sit well with her, she shifted it further that way. “You’re not the easiest person to be around. At all. Half the time I don’t know if you’re trying to be nice or if you’re just waiting for me to fall.”

“I’ve seen you fall. More than they have, in fact.”

She shot him a look. He wasn’t wrong. Jericho made a big show of how strong the bonds in the Inner Circle were and yet... Guilt knocked at her skull and she ignored it.

“Max,” she got his attention, his warm eyes on her and his knees angled towards her. Part of the reason she wanted to get away from the others was to get some air, that was true. The other part? To see who she was talking to. Max or MJF. “For once, can you just say what you mean and not be a complete dick about it?”

His jaw worked at that and his hands switched which one was on top quite a few times. Worry overtook her when he looked like he might be sick. Or like he was in pain.

“I like you. Alright? Even though I don’t want to and God knows I’ve tried not to, I do. I think about you literally all the time and it’s awful.”

Her shoulders dropped with disappointment and she shook her head with disbelief. He couldn’t just stop while he was ahead.

“Jesus,” she said, her voice a low and bitter sound. She slipped his scarf off and handed it back to him. “That must be so fucking terrible for you. My condolences, MJF.”

He was strangely silent as they walked back but that changed as soon as they were back in the company of the boys. Loudmouth, smug MJF was back and she receded back to the edges. Sammy approached her and demanded to know what happened, Ortiz as well. She kept it simple. They talked, that was all. The two men seemed to accept that that was all she would give them for the time being.

She had too much to think about and not enough drink in her glass.

---

The next pub they went to felt more up her alley and she sat at the end of the bar, away from the pissing contest between the others. Her sour mood had lifted some, thanks to Jameson and the friendly bartender. She could feel Max’s eyes on her but she paid no attention. She wanted to drink, she wanted to take a long bath, and then she wanted to go to bed. Something simple and not at all complicated like what her heart was feeling.

“Seriously, what did he say to you?”

“That’s between us, Ortiz,” she said for the third time to the man beside her. “It’s really not something I want to talk about.”

“Man, you’re holding out on us,” Sammy cut in from her other side. “Did he say something embarrassing? Please tell me it was embarrassing. It was totally embarrassing, right? Give us the dirt, sister.”

In some ways, she supposed it was embarrassing. Her jaw clenched.

“Is the hotel far from here?”

Ortiz blinked at her.

“No, not really, why?”

“I think I’m done for the night,” she said as she slapped a twenty on the bar and pushed back from it. “I’m getting tired.”

The two men seemed shocked and appalled by such a statement.

“Woah, you serious?”

“Mhm,” she vocalized. “You boys have fun, okay?”

“One of us will go with y--”

“I’ll go with her,” Max suddenly said, his hands in his pockets as he sauntered up to the trio. “You two stay here, huh? Keep an eye on the old man over there.”

Ortiz looked at Sammy, who looked at her, who looked at Max. He was too busy staring the other two down to notice how hard she looked at him.

“Fine,” she said carefully. “It won’t take long.”

She rushed out the door and Max was quick to follow her. That hardened expression of his faded and there was Max again, soft and vulnerable and infuriating. Frustrated tears pricked her eyes and she hated it.

“Slow down,” he called to her. “I didn’t say any of that right, alright? That was a shitshow in word form and I can do better than that because, I mean, I’m me. If I fuck it up again, just slap me and we’ll be done with the whole thing.”

He caught up to her in long strides and gently encircled her wrist with one of his hands. She stopped with a harsh breath in and turned back to look at him, her fists clenched at her sides. He let go of her wrist and guided her to the side, away into one of the alleys of Las Vegas. Maybe Max was serious if he was so willing to stand next to garbage.

“I like you,” he tried again as he stood in front of her. “I think about you a lot and when I think about you, I go looking for you. I don’t even know what I’m going to say half the time when I do, alright? I just go and hope for the best. I don’t do that. Any of that. I don’t like people and I don’t hope for the best for...for anything. For anyone. But then there’s you and I do and it’s weird but I don’t hate it and I don’t hate you. That’s the thing! I. Don’t. Hate. You.”

His hands hovered by her shoulders, his eyes imploring her to listen to what he was saying. What was that one line? The one about how wonderful, how strange it was to be liked by something that hates all else? She couldn’t wrap her head around it but she knew she wasn’t angry anymore. Bewildered and breathless and taken aback and unquestionably warm. That’s what she was. Her silence compelled him to step away and she reached out for him. Giggling grew louder on the sidewalk outside the alleyway. They stared at each other, both waiting for something to happen.

“Max, I don’t know…”

She trailed and it didn’t matter that she didn’t know what to say. Anything she could have said was silenced by Max’s lips on hers, his hands on the wall to brace himself. She leaned up into him, her eyes on his and both just as confused. A giggling couple disappeared down the alley and they must have knocked against Max. His hands dropped from the wall to her shoulders and when he went to pull away, she slipped her arms around him and pulled him in. Their stagnant lips began to move and she could taste what it was that smelled so sweet. He could taste the burn of Jameson on her tongue. Their eyes fell shut and they dove into each other.

The tentative way he kissed her melted like sugar to absinthe. His tongue met hers, her teeth nipped at his lips. Not enough to hurt but enough to get his attention. His hands slid from her shoulders to her waist then finally they came to a stop at her hips. He kissed her hard and she met him on even ground, her fingers curled in tight against his broad back. A sound of disgust from him broke them apart and that scowl of his was back on his face. He breathed hard against the skin of her neck.

“Absolutely not,” he said with a borderline growl as he lifted his head and stared down the alley. “We are not making out in a filthy, scum-filled alleyway. I get that this is Vegas and it’s the bottom of the barrel but there is still a thing called standards.”

His hand slid into hers to lead her away and after a second, she laced her fingers with his. She didn’t know what they were or where the hell they would be when the weekend was over and they left this moment. They could figure it out. He looked at her from the corner of his eye and smiled at her. Not a shit-eating one, not a standing-over-your-fallen-enemy one. It was just a simple one, meant for her, and it made her hope that it wasn’t true what they said about Las Vegas. Just this once.

[i-can-even-burn-salad]

Elli’s Scribblings

Welcome!

This is my cozy little corner of this hellsite. Make yourself at home, have a look around, ignore the blood, that’s just... uh, anyway. Here you’ll find posts with a focus on writing and fictional suffering, but this is a main blog, so there will be a sprinkle of memes, queer stuff and everything else I feel like putting here.

An overview of my writing and side blogs is below the cut, my tags can be found on my about page.

My website: https://www.elli-scribbles.net/

@elli-scribbles​ - all my original writing @burnt-salad-bar​ - where I collect other people’s masterlists @cant-burn-the-ice-cream​ - random trash pile (mostly cute things and memes that have no image descriptions)

This is both a whump and a writing blog. Which means there is entirely more pain and suffering than the plot would require normally—but hey, there is a plot somewhere. I write no unhappy endings; it just takes a while to get there, okay?

All stories are set in the same universe, sorted chronologically below, but here is a short overview with word count, tropes and time line for each of them.

Here is also a list of super detailed content warnings for all of my stories. This obviously spoilers pretty much everything, so be aware of that. There are always warnings in the masterlists, and on top of the chapters, but this one goes much more into detail. If you are unsure about anything, feel free to ask.

Main Stories

Thorns & Jasmine

It has been fifty years since the appearance of the first kalani; peaceful plant people, born from the fruits of a colossal tree. Now there is a darkness growing deep in the jungle, abducting their siblings and turning them into cruel, vicious creatures.

This is the story of Caldyn, a healer. He finds himself in a world of trouble when he wakes up in one of their cages, without a memory of how he got there. They want him to join their ranks, to give up his magic and his soul—and they will stop at nothing to get what they want.

Status: Finished | WIP Intro for the novel

Nuisance

Merridy is living on the streets, trying to survive in a city that has no place for her. When her luck runs out, she is caught stealing and thrown into the dungeons. Between the cruelty of the guards and the trial awaiting her, her life might as well be over.

The last thing she expects is to be freed by the man who rules the city’s underground with an iron fist. Cedric is known for his calculating ruthlessness, and now she owes him her life, wondering what he saved her for. There is no way she’d ever be of use to someone like him—or is there?

Status: Finished | WIP Intro

Heal my Wounds

Retrieving some possibly magic rocks should have been an easy mission. Unfortunately, the rocks turn out to be not magic, and the mercenaries assigned to protect Josephine’s group are a nuisance. And while their leader’s refusal to follow her orders starts out as a mere annoyance, it culminates in a tragic accident.

Between grievous injury and disgrace, both of their lives fall apart. Josephine might never hold a sword again, and Valadan is back on the streets with nothing to his name. As he insists on helping her get back on her feet, Josephine realizes that there’s more to him than his rude behavior. Similarly, he finds that she isn’t the spoiled princess he thought her to be.

Together, both of them might heal—if they can overcome the damage they've done to each other's lives.

Status: Finished | Ebook Version

Undeserved

A decade of regrettable decisions led to Damien being too deeply involved with a bunch of rebels, fighting for a cause that isn’t even his. When he’s tasked with a murderous job, his plan is simple: get close, kill the ambassador, vanish unseen.

Unfortunately even the simplest plan can fail, and he finds himself gravely injured and in the hands of his enemies. The punishment for treason is death, if he’ll live long enough to be brought to trial. Some of his captors hate him even more than he hates himself, and they know what horrible things he has used his magic for…

Status: Finished | Ebook Version

Glass Shards | Fancy Boots

Merridy is a thief, finding herself in the dungeon after a burglary gone wrong. As she tries to escape, she stumbles upon the severely injured Damien and can't bring herself to abandon him to his fate. His disappearance is quickly noticed, forcing them to flee the town before the guards manage to catch up.

Accused of high treason, tortured and more dead than alive, Damien had already made peace with the fact that he would die. As he slowly recovers under Merridy's care, her unwavering confidence restores his will to live. But before he can think about his future, he must first face his past.

The masterlist has been split. Fancy Boots is Arc 4, but Arc 3 is still in progress.

Status: Active (updates on Wednesdays) | WIP Intro

Side Stories

Everything else that doesn’t fit one of the main story arcs, like background stories of side characters.

Cedric: Cold | Warm

Gwyneth: Hold On | Rescued

The Rose A short fairy tale based on Beauty and the Beast

Other links

A link to my favorite whump stories of other people 💜

Some kind of bookmarks post gathering my unsorted favs.

My first bad things happen bingo card. Finished.

My second bad things happen bingo card. Aborted.

“Patch Notes” for my stories.

About me

Adult, at least on paper.

I enjoy mind being tagged in tag games, but might not always reply. Sorry. The brain does what it wants.

I curse quite a lot. Also sorry.

I have the attention span of a common house fly. Also sor— oh look a butterfly.

I run a queue, but I’m not tagging it. Good luck figuring out my sleep schedule.

English is not my first language.

[ID: The top image is a banner showing a part of an empty paper notebook, a dark pink pen and purple flowers. The text Elli’s Scribblings is written across it in a handwritten font in a pastel pink to white gradient with black outlines.

The banner for Thorns & Jasmine shows red, glowy plants. Across it is written the title of the story in a bright to dark green gradient. The letters are slightly thorny looking.

The banner for Nuisance shows a broken window, outside which the sun sets behind an iron fence. The sky is bright yellow and orange. The title is written across it in scribbled looking letters with a orange to yellow to orange gradient.

The banner for Undeserved shows blurry, green glass shards on a dark surface. Across it is written the title of the story in a bright to dark blue gradient with a white outline.

The banner for Glass Shards is covered in colorful glass shards. Across it is written the title of the story in a white to bright cyan gradient with a black outline. The font looks like written with a broad paintbrush.

The banner for Heal my Wounds is a photograph of a mountain landscape. Across it is written the title of the story in a white to bright blue gradient with a black outline. The font looks handwritten.

The banner for Side Stories is a picture of shallow water on a sandy beach. Across it is written the title side stories in a bright yellow to dark pink gradient with a black outline. The font looks like written with a thin paintbrush.

All other images in this post are purely ornamental lines. End ID.]