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tarnishedxknight · 5 months ago

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"Thank you, but... ah, nay, I ought to be-" Basch began to say by way of polite refusal, for he ought to be watching for danger around the prince. And in Caelen's presence, he was outranked and should not sit at the same table as an equal. It was inappropriate. Caelen predictably thwarted Basch's attempt at maintaining proper decorum, however.

Both Caelen and his sister had always been more informal with Basch than their siblings or anyone else in the royal family. To him, Basch was less a knight in service to his father, and more a part of their family. "Yes, Basch, do join us. I insist," he said, knowing that would end the argument but also give Basch the freedom to sit as Caelen already knew he wanted to.

"Thank you, my lord," Basch said with a respectful nod. Behind him, an employee of the tavern, having overheard, was already bringing another chair for Basch to join the Guardians and Caelen at their table. Now all chairs were occupied and one more had been squeezed in at the crowded table.

Caelen listened to Drax, Rocket, and Gamora as they spoke amongst themselves about the types of knives their friend liked and how they came to arrive at that information. They were lively people, to be sure, and Caelen found himself smiling a little at their energy. It was refreshing to see such foreigners in Rabanastre. Sure, the city already saw a variety of races pass in and out due to various trading activities, but it was always interesting to meet ones he never had before.

His smile turned into a grin and he chuckled at the compliment. "You are very kind, Drax, I thank you. My bloodline is somewhat known for its hair, although... more so for color than beauty," he shared. But Rocket's comment regarding Mantis being brainwashed to love knives while being a gentle person at heart struck him strongly for a moment.

"Oh, on the contrary. Gentle people can love blades as well," he explained. "There are some who appreciate the beauty, artistry, and craftsmanship involved with creating different pieces, even if they have no intention of using them or take no joy in fighting. I myself have never been one to love war and battle, yet I have always greatly adored the art of crafting weapons and their associated trappings. It is why I am apprenticing with both a blacksmith and a leatherworker."

As they seemed to settle on a dagger for Mantis, and noted that it should be green, in some way, Caelen smiled. "Green? Lovely! Green and gold are Dalmasca's colors, if you did not know," he said. "A dyed green leather handle, perhaps? Or etchings on the blade, stained green? If you let me know what she would like, I can relay the request to my mentor."

At the mention of leaving their friend at the palace maybe not being the best of decisions, Caelen frowned. "Well... I could have one of the guards retrieve her, if you wish?"

"I would be happy to do so, my lord," Basch said.

"You are relaxing, dear Basch, there are plenty of guardsmen who could run the errand," Caelen said, knowing that Basch did not often permit himself to rest in any fashion.

- - - - -

Munoh felt that mortals had a host of flaws that held them back from realizing their true potential. One of them... was marking those who were emotional, peaceful, softhearted, or otherwise gentle as... weak. It was a shame, they thought, for all facets of people were needed to maintain a world, not only the strong, or the violent. Those who created life, sustained it, or cared for it were just as important as other types of people. When would they learn? "Certainly not. Many apologies to you, that you have been made to feel your gentle heart is weak. Far from the truth, that judgment is," they reassured her.

When Mantis suggested that Munoh return to Caelen, they were not so quick to. "To hover near him all the while has little benefit to him. Freedom to make his own decisions is as beneficial as the aid I provide. Besides... there is work yet to be done here. You are yet in need of my help, Mantis," they said.

No sooner did Munoh finish that sentence than did a crossbow bolt come flying at Mantis. Munoh seemed to wink suddenly out of existence and reappear, at least to Mantis' eyes, at her back, the bolt hovering within its incorporeal form as if stopped by something thick and viscous in mid air. It fell to the floor harmlessly, the metal tip making a metallic click upon the sandstone floor as it did so.

Munoh winked out of existence once more, reappearing now floating up near the railing of the second story balcony of the library. The glow they emitted became nearly blinding as their power flared in an intimidating display.

The absolutely terrified scream of a man was heard next, for Munoh had chosen to become visible to him as well, with intent to frighten him. The man, in his panic at the sight of the creature before him, stumbled over the railing, falling to the first floor below, some feet away from Mantis. Munoh followed him.

"Oh, great and holy gods!" the man screamed as he also winced in pain from the fall.

"Precisely!" Munoh said, embracing the usual perception most mortals had of them for the moment. "A conversation of peace and life have you so callously interrupted with malice and desire for death!" they chastised the armored man. He was outfitted much like other guardsmen of Dalmasca. "Why?! For what reason do you enact violence on she who has caused you no harm?!" they pressed, seeming to lean in close with their form to further put pressure on the man to answer.

"I-I... Forgive me! I was ordered to do it!" the man said with his hands held up in surrender, clearly willing to admit anything if it would save him from whatever fate he thought was coming to him at the hands of this being.

"By whom?" Munoh hissed.

"S-ser Azelas!" the man confessed.

"Sleep, until justice is brought to you," Munoh said dismissively, and the man suddenly did just that, his head falling back with a thud upon the sandstone. Munoh turned to Mantis, their glow diminishing as they returned to their calm state. "The Hume known as Vossler has antagonized many here before. Know you why he might wish for your death?" they asked.

Another Time, Another Place (A Hollow Universe In Space) || closed with tarnishedxknight

@tarnishedxknight continued from here

The Guardians stood there, letting Captain Basch formally introduce them to King Raminas. They all then bowed respectfully except for Rocket, who only did so because Gamora pushed his head down. They trusted Basch for the most part, as he assured them no one would hurt them after telling them to leave their weapons at the ship. Quill and Gamora were the first ones to leave theirs; Drax didn't want to leave his knives, but did so after Mantis looked at him, while Rocket pulled a comical amount of retractable weapons from his pockets.

As they followed Basch, Mantis had stayed behind for a moment to approach Vossler. She felt much better after Munoh sent her some calm energy, and she smirked at the man. Suddenly, her hand was on his cheek, her antennae aglow. "Whenever you open your mouth to say something unkind, you will wail like a baby. Honestly, it might be more coherent than anything else you have said," she whispered. She patted his cheek twice as if to seal her whimsical behest, and hurried to follow the Guardians as Basch guided them through the palace of Rabanastre.

Quill straightened and cleared his throat to speak to the King. Mantis took his hand; Quill was a little confused, but he allowed it since he knew she wasn't feeling great.

"Your Majesty," he said, once again lowering his voice in an attempt to mirror Basch's formal tone and presence, hoping it would make the King like him more. "We come in peace. We thank you for your time, and we apologize for occupying one of your docks. I think I have–" He stopped talking rather suddenly, and swallowed. "Uh... I think... I have..."

What was happening was that Mantis was frantically reading his thoughts as he spoke, using her powers to interrupt him because he was going to say he had the perfect stuff to make up for it, wanting to show the King some Terran music with the Zune. While Terran music was excellent, Mantis knew not everyone would like it, nor find it an acceptable form of apology.

"I have no excuse," Quill said instead. "And I have to... shut up... now."

#celestialmantdonna #main muse: basch #{ knight of the order } ᵖʳᵒˡᵒᵍᵘᵉ ᵛᵉʳˢᵉ #oc muse: caelen #{ prince of dalmasca } ᵖʳᵒˡᵒᵍᵘᵉ ᵛᵉʳˢᵉ #{ the darker corners of ivalice } ᵐᵃⁱⁿ ᵛᵉʳˢᵉ ⁻ ᵈᵃʳᵏ ᵉᵈⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿ #oc muse: munoh

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fangirlshrewt97 · 2 years ago

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Come Rest Your Weary Head (Part 6)

Here’s the last part! This fic really became way way longer than I was expecting because I split the parts up into mini-stories lol. And just fyi the original story I wrote for this section ended up being very angst and hurt/comfort so I made the executive decision to publish it as an independent story tomorrow. I wrote a fluffier section for the finale, because it felt unfair to throat angst at people who come expecting fluff.

Happy Independence Day to my fellow Indians! Alluri Sitarama Raju and Komuram Bheem, both of you fought for our nation’s freedom, and today we celebrate 3/4 of a century of it. Thank you for your courage, and sacrifice. I wish you could have seen our flag fly.

Onto the story...

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5)

///

Ram bit his lip as he scratched out a couple more names from his list of new recruits and rewrote them in separate sheets. It had been nearly five months since the latest batch of recruits had joined them and Ram and the other senior members felt they were solid enough in their training to help out with the smaller raids they were conducting.

Being the one with the most experience on the ground for these raids, he had taken the responsibility of shuffling the new members into the already established groups according to best fit. Tomorrow, they’d do a few training exercises to make sure there were no major dynamic clashes and then they could plan for more raids.

He leaned against the bed frame, tilting his head back to allow the sun to shine on his face. It was another dry summer day, but thankfully there was wind to provide relief against the oppressive heat.

He had even forgone his usual western clothing for a simple cotton kurta with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and a lungi tied above his knees. He was sitting perpendicular to his entrance, one leg stretched out while he used the other as support for the wooden slab on which he was writing.

“Ram!” Bheem called out moments before entering the house, with Sita following close behind. When Ram looked up the pair, a smile tugged at his lips. They were armed with fresh coconuts, and Bheem had a bag dangling from his arm that Ram would bet were mangoes. “Ram! Look, we got some delicious mangoes from the market in the next village. And the coconuts are heavy, I bet they have a lot of water!”

Ram laughed as he nodded. “Good to know your venture was successful. Do you need the machete for the coconuts?”

Sita shook her head, “No, it’s right outside, I just told Bhaiya we could leave the mangoes in here and then cut the coconuts.”

Ram nodded and let them work, returning to his papers. He smiled, happy that his best friend and his… Bheem were getting along so well.

He had not known how to break the news to Sita, knowing it would be dishonest to lie to her any further, but also not willing to hurt the one who had waited so long for him. In the end he had done it, terrified he was losing Sita forever.

She was perfectly named though, because while she did cry and not speak to him for a harrowing two weeks, she eventually accepted his news and started asking more about Bheem. Now, nearly two years from their initial meeting, the pair was thick as thieves, and often conspired together. Mostly against Ram. He loved them more than he had words to say.

He yelped when a coconut was shoved in his face, nearly upending his papers. “Bheem!”

Bheem just raised an eyebrow at him as Sita giggled from where she sat outside the mess of papers. Bheem instead decided to sit on the bed, by Ram’s head.

Placing the wooden slab and writing utensils away, Ram accepted the coconut, tipping it back as he brought it to his mouth. Letting out a small moan at the cool taste, Ram drank half the coconut before bringing it down. By that time, Bheem had already gulped his first, and was starting on his second. He exchanged a look with Sita, both of them hiding their giggles into their fruit.

“That was really good coconut, where did you get it?” Ram aid as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Vijaya akka. She was saying that because we had so much rain this season, the coconuts also got filled with water.” Sita explained, laughing at her own words.

Ram snorted. “Of course. Here, are you done with yours? I’ll cut it open.”

Ram stood up, adjusting his coconut to the crook of his elbow before accepting Sita’s. Beside him, Bheem pawed at his side. “Yes, yes, I haven’t forgotten yours Bheema!”

Taking all three coconuts outside, Ram picked up the machete, cutting the fruit in half. He also cut a small piece from the outer husk to use as spoons. Carving all the meat into one half, Ram balanced the three pieces inside, giving Sita hers before handing over his half to Bheem. He settled down again, leaning against Bheem’s legs as he started to eat.

“Are you sorting out the recruits?” Sita asked as she leaned over the papers.

Ram hummed as he ate a piece. “I want to keep the groups small though, 10-12 members. But the problem is the existing teams have been working together for months and established a dynamic. Breaking them into new groups, or adding new members is going to disrupt the dynamic regardless. I am just trying to see who will cause the smallest disruption.”

“Sounds tough,” Bheem said with a mouthful of coconut. He swallowed. “I’m sure you will figure it out though. Oh wait, you should put Murali with Venkatesh. Murali has a hard time sitting still, whereas Venkatesh is a patient sharpshooter. And Murali has good aim, if Venkatesh taught him, I’m sure Murali could become a great sharpshooter too. Have you sorted him yet?”

“Uh-” Ram said, looking at his list, “I think I placed him with Subbu.”

Bheem shook his head. “No, that won’t work, Subbu would get impatient and yell at him, and then Murali would just stop listening.”

Ram blinked at the man’s insight before reaching for his lists. He picked up his pencil and crossed out Murali’s name from Subbu’s group and added it to the same as Venkatesh’s.

When he looked at Sita, even she looked impressed.

Ram looked at Bheem. “Any chance you want to help me with the rest of these?”

“How many recruits do you need to place?”

“Sixteen.”

Bheem had a conflicted look on his face as he looked at Sita, but she shook her head with an understanding smile. “Don’t worry Bhaiya, you can teach me how to make that sweet of yours another day. For now, I will take the mangoes. Are you two ok if I keep the unripe ones to use for pickle later?”

Both men shook their heads.

“Alright then, see you for dinner.” Sita called out as she took her leave.

Ram set his coconut besides Bheem’s, slapping the other man’s leg when he reclined horizontally on the bed. “Bheem!”

“Ow! Don’t hit, I am awake only. This is just…more comfortable. Just say the names, I will tell you what I know.”

Ram squinted at him suspiciously before turning his back to him and resuming his earlier position. “Raghava?”

///

Slowly, the pair made their way through the whole list, Bheem having helpful insights about all the new men. Ram made a mental note to add Bheem permanently to the teacher list for the new recruits. He then sorted the papers to the side before picking up the messages they had received from their contacts in the various cities, compiling them into a helpful timeline he could to present to the others later.

The sound of snoring interrupted him from his thoughts. When he turned, he bit his lip at the sight of Bheem fast sleep, face smushed into the pillow, mouth slightly parted. One arm hung over the bed. A more comfortable position his ass.

But still, it was too tempting a tableu to resist. Carefully setting everything to the side to deal with later, Ram shuffled forward to his knees till he was in front of Bheem’s face, fingers carding through his curls. Oh how many times had he wished to do this exact thing when they had still been Anna and Akthar.

Bheem startled awake with a snort, making Ram laugh. “Hey you. I didn’t think you were actually that tired.”

Bheem blinked at him blearily before giving him a dopey smile. “What can I say Bangaram? The weather is begging us to be lazy,” he broke off to yawn, making Ram yawn too, “…and this pillow smells exactly like you. How could I resist?”

Actually throwing back his head for a laugh, Ram’s eyes twinkled as Bheem shifted fully to lay on his side, one hand bring Ram’s hand to his mouth for a kiss to his knuckles.

Breath hitching, Ram bumped his hand against Bheem’s chin. “What do you say to having the real thing to cuddle with then?”

Bheem’s face split with a wide, toothy smile. “That is always going to be a yes, Ram.”

Extracting his hand from Bheem’s, Ram went to close the door, placing their used coconuts outside the door to be discarded later. Removing his kurta so he was only in his sleeveless undershirt and dhoti, Ram crawled into bed with Bheem, twisting so his front was pressed against Bheem’s back. He threw a leg over Bheem’s waist, and nuzzled the back of Bheem’s neck. “You’re right. This is too tempting a place not to fall asleep in.”

Bheem reached back to grab Ram’s Right hand and wove their fingers together before bringing them to rest against his heart.

Smiling, Ram pressed a kiss to the spot behind Bheem’s ear and closed his eyes, soothed to sleep by Bheem’s gentle snores.

///

Feedback is appreciated!!

Tagging (Please please work, Tumblr I beg you): @rambheem-is-real @budugu @bromance-minus-the-b @kafkaesquebestie @hissterical-nyaan @obsessedtoafault @hufhkbgg @yehsahihai @rorapostsbl @bluesolace1 @fadedscarlets @alikokinav @chaotic-moonlight @rambheemisgoated @rambheemlove @jaganmaya @adikavy @burningsheepcrown @lovingperfectionwonderland @rosayounan @iam-siriuslysher-lokid @thewinchestergirl1208 @dumdaradumdaradum @ronaldofandom @jjwolfesworld @percikawantstoread @kashpaymentsonly @jeonmahi1864 @zackcrazyvalentine @stanleykubricks @m3gs1mps4a @tulodiscord

#rrr #rambheem #rambheem fanfic #rrr fanfic #ram x bheem #alluri sitarama raju #komuram bheem #sita rrr #sita x ram #my fic #my writing

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finalfantasyxivwritings · 3 years ago

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Looking at that ‘familiar AU’ like 👀 so what kind of relationship do you/the reader have with each of the old Etheirys characters?

Barring no significant discoveries in canon for how familiars are perceived on Etheirys, their existence--and therefore the kind of relationships they keep to other creations and their masters--is primarily shaped from the familiar's own purpose of creation.

Companionship is the most common reason intelligent familiars are created, followed closely thereafter by research assistance and the aid of common day-to-day duties. Some still have much broader purposes; peoples of Etheirys with particularly strong creation magicks can and often have created familiars with expansive curiosities and aetherical abilities in their own right.

These familiars are not inherently prohibited, but carry a great responsibility upon their creators to nurture their minds with rich experiences so that they might further grow. Neglect and abuse to one's creation, intelligent or otherwise, is a grievous injury to one's reputation, not to mention a punishable offense.

Hades (Emet-Selch) is a busy man with a multitude of duties often put upon his shoulders, so his familiar is likely someone originally needed to help him with various day-to-day tasks instead of companionship in the strictest sense. As time goes on, Hades would find himself encouraging his familiar to flourish in their sense of purpose and fulfillment. It isn't all that often that someone can put up with him for long periods of time, and he would come to admit that it's nice being around someone who genuinely enjoys his presence beyond the seatholder of Emet-Selch. Comforting, even. It is for this reason that Hades is quite protective of his familiar despite the fact that he rarely shows the same level of adoration towards anyone else. Hythlodaeus is neither a man of politics or secretive research, so he would have no use of a familiar created with such affinities. Instead, his familiar would be for companionship more than anything else--and he would treat them no less than such. Though it is somewhat uncommon, Hythlodaeus would allow his familiar a very wide level of interpersonal and social freedom not just to learn about the world around them, but simply to develop as a person however it is they desire, even if one of those very things is learning a form of combat. If they so wished, he would be more than happy to teach them the skills of an archer and bard alike. Hermes, as the Chief Overseer of Elpis, would have a most unique familiar. They would not only be created to help with his duties, but also to learn about each of the creations they help to care for and observe, though this would never be given as an obligation or set of orders to follow. Hermes' familiar would instead be given a wide berth of freedom to roam about Elpis as they liked, encouraged to no end to sate their curiosity while Hermes himself is simply endeared by them and finds a great joy in seeing them experience the world as a familiar of companionship in all but official title. Venat would not create her own familiar, but has been known to take on the care to the familiars of others. This comes from a balance of genuine love for all things as Hermes, but the genuine sense of pragmatism as Hades. She in turn would never see herself as anything other than an equal to her familiar in most ways and empowering them to seek growth in knowledge, wisdom and experience--frequently calling upon the aid of the current seatholder of Azem to offer these familiars the most unique experiences across the star.

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fernthefanciful · 4 years ago

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A princess is a creature of grace, poise, decorum. They are soft, gentle, patient. I, however, was none of those things, much to my parents’ despair.

They only brought that upon themselves, of course. A firstborn daughter, a royal invitation to greet the new monarch not sent, and therefore an insult perceived by a powerful magical being. You know how the story goes. I was cursed and, in my story, there were no blessings to gentle it. No other wishes for my future, or what little she left of it. Just a creature of shadow and talon which appeared, damned the bright vision my parents had of my life, and vanished.

My childhood was a moderately happy one, even with the dark cloud of the curse hanging forever in my periphery. My parents loved me. My sisters, when they were born, did the same. And I of course love them with all that I am. My parents hired tutors, made sure I learned what it meant to be a monarch, made sure I was prepared for a future of rule. They simply made sure my sister learned as well.

“Just in case.” My father would say, his gaze flitting across the empty hallways as if something unseen was always listening, always watching.

And when I got too restless, when the green of the forest and the blue of the lake called to me and I couldn’t help but give in to the need to run, to chase, they took me riding. We’d make trips, have picnics, run around on the heather-filled fields and watch the sky change her colour with the setting sun. For the longest time, we were as happy as we could be.

My eighteenth birthday was a beautiful and clear full moon night. The air rife with the scents of fresh bread and roasted meats of the feast held in honour of my coming of age. Gentle and joyful music filled the ballroom as people danced and laughed all night.

In an empty hallway, as far away from people as I could get, I screamed and cried as my body tore itself apart. As the wildness that had always lived inside of me wanted out. The howl that tore from my newly changed throat was loud enough to wake the entire city.

I should have been terrified. I should be lamenting the turn my life had taken, all the things I now no longer could do. I should have felt all of those things. But when I made my way out of the castle and into the forest, the ground soft underneath my paws, the silver moonlight a gentle caress on my fur, I couldn’t help but think that his curse tasted a lot like freedom.

The wildness that had always lived inside of me, the parts that longed to shed the tight clothing and even tighter responsibilities of nobility, were torn from the inner shadow where I had hidden them and shoved into the light. The parts of me that wished to run, to hunt, to feast, finally had a chance to be free.

Things changed after that.

Now, people are wary, afraid. My parents try, they really do. To teach me to act normal, ladylike, human. It’s of no use. The wolf lurks under my skin, peering out of my eyes.

People whisper about how much of a waste it is, such a shame, that a curse has changed me so. They don’t see, they don’t understand. The wolf, the wildness, the hunger, has always been there. It is me, the deepest parts of my soul given physical form.

Life goes on. My sister, perfect, composed, kind, steps into the limelight. Or is pushed, I should say. To placate those who question my place at Court. Meanwhile I am forced into the background. An animal in the shadows meant to be forgotten.

My wolf balks at the idea of corsets, of rules, of restriction. Doesn’t understand the need for playing nice with nobles it doesn’t like. She’s a creature of instinct, simplicity, and therefore, so am I.

I spend my days roaming the grounds, protecting what is mine. The people of the city avert their eyes as I go past. Whisper about curses and how they spread, about what it means for the Kingdom that their princess is now a different creature altogether.

My wolf claims the entirety kingdom as her territory and as I get older, I travel further. Checking in daily with the people on the far edges of the lands. The misfits and the outcasts. The ones with wisdom and magic who have been pushed towards the edges of the kingdom long before I was born. Hatred and fear pushed us all here, to the lands where the briar grows three men tall. Where the trees and the shadows move on their own and where the water of the lake is always smooth, no matter how fierce the storm.

I help where I can, chasing off the foxes for the farmers, climbing trees to hang fetches and talismans for protection, bringing food to those who need it most. Most time is spent drinking tea and discussing life with the old lady whom everyone calls ‘witch’. She teaches me all she knows. Things the tutors at the castle never knew to teach me. About the plants and trees that grow, the animals that roam deep within the forest. About life here, on the outskirts of society, and all the peoples and creatures that are part of it. Here, the people look me in the eye. They bow their heads in respect but never in fear. The bravest of the children ask to card their hands through my fur. The old woman laughingly gifts me a crown of twigs and burrs and rowanberries the colour of blood. Every time I’m in my human skin I wear that crown with pride.

One day, deep within the forest at the edge of my territory, I meet her. The being who has brought all that was hidden within me to the front and then illuminated it. I shift back to human, standing before her, naked and open, but never vulnerable, thanks to her. I thank her for the gifts she has given me. For the freedom and power and strength. The look on her face when I name her fairy godmother is priceless.

She smiles at me then, a flash of razor-sharp teeth. I bare my own fangs back at her. She asks me then, if I understand. How they are being treated. Those who do not fit in, those who are made of wildness and shadow and blood. How they are shunned because of what they are.

She tells me this will change, once I am queen. When I tell her that I never will be, that my parents will never find a match for me, she simply laughs and tells me not to worry. After all, I have a fairy godmother now.

She keeps close after that. Always watching, always near, but never interfering. Not unless I ask her to. So when war, inevitably, finds itself at our borders, I ask for her aid. I stand in the middle of the bloodied battlefield, staring at the incoming forces. The wolf in me is itching underneath my skin. She wishes to hunt, to kill, to feel flesh rip underneath her claws, blood filling her mouth as she tears them apart. So I call out to my fairy godmother, asking if she would join me for a hunt, before I shed my skin along with my humanity and charge forward.

The battle is brutal and short. The enemy army is better trained, but not against the army of outcasts led by myself and my fairy godmother. Their swords and shields quickly fall against our teeth, claws and magic.

Afterwards, I greet my father on the battlefield. Bare and covered in blood. There is fear in his eyes, yes, but also respect. And, for the first time, trust.

Things change once again. I am brought back into the castle, but nothing is the same. I spend most of my time in the forests, still, but I also find myself fighting. Training with weapons other than tooth and claw. Weathered old men, tutors, hired by my father to teach me all they know. I learn how much I don’t know, how much there is still to learn. I earn my scars, even if they never stay for long. I earn their respect, even if it is hard won. I am no longer alone, some of my people from the outskirts join me and never leave their princess’ side.

It doesn’t take long before suitors come from all over the world, wishing to marry one of my sisters. Singing praises about the small kingdom that could so quickly put an end to war. That could tame monsters and wild things. Silly men, none of us were tamed, we simply chose to fight.

My parents and sisters work hard to get the most advantageous matches. To make sure that both the kingdom and my sisters will continue to grow and prosper. Bargains are struck, feasts are had. One by one my sisters move away, happy with their chosen husbands. All of them are visited by a giant wolf at least once. They know to treat my sisters well, or one night feel the sharp tips of my fangs against their throat.

Years later I am gifted another crown. It is a beautiful thing. Delicate golden flowers and bright shining gems. It feels uncomfortable to me the way all pretty things do. “It might not suit you,” my father tells me, “but you have earned it.”

“As you have earned your rest.” I tell him.

“You will be wonderful, my Queen.”

Rumors start spreading, about the Wolfqueen, the Wild One, sitting upon a blood-red throne. About the Kingdom of monsters where beasts, fae and man live free. About the Queen with the Iron Heart, who turns away all who wish to court her, and kills all who dare more.

It’s not that I do not want someone at my side. I do. I wish for the love that my parents share. That my sisters eventually found with their husbands. But all those who come for my hand, those who finally dare when I have no more free sisters left, come for just that. My hand but not my heart. They are all poised and polished. Perfect little princes who look towards the wealth of the castle but away from the wildness within me. They are afraid to meet my wolf’s cold, assessing gaze.

Some even try to change me, to find the human underneath the wolf. They only try once.

For years, I rule alone. Through another war, through a plague born of magic, through prosperity and abundance. My people always by my side but no one to claim my heart.

But then, a commotion. A man, dressed in furs. No scars on his body, but plenty on his soul. His eyes glowing the same gold as mine in the gentle torchlight. A wildness in them that my wolf recognizes. A challenge that my wolf is eager to take, to rise up to.

“Your Oracle told me to come here.” He tells me, “I asked for guidance, to find what my heart truly desires, and she sent me to you.”

My fairy godmother steps up behind me, laying a hand on my shoulder. I can’t see her, but I know she is smiling a smile of sharp pointed teeth. No doubt the oracle he speaks of.

“My Queen,” he continues, bowing deep, his eyes never leaving mine, “I came looking for connection, for freedom. I believe I will find it with your time and your company. Will you grant me it?”

“And what, my prince,” for if my fairy godmother sent him, he can only be that, “will you grant me in return?” I lean forward, eager, hungry.

“Loyalty,” he steps forward, onto the dais, “companionship and understanding.” He leans over me for a single, challenging moment, before kneeling before me, baring his throat. “Perhaps in time even love. But for now, the thrill of a hunt. Of a chase.” He grins, baring sharp fangs. A breath, and a beautiful black-furred wolf sits in front of me.

Oh – the hunt is on. A thrill goes through me as I shift, ready to run, to chase him down and claim him for my own. For if one thing is certain, it is that I am a wild thing, a Queen, a hunter, but never, ever, prey.

(First posted on my website)

#fiction #story #short story #werewolf #fairy tale #faeries #fairy #queen #writing #my writing #writers on tumblr #fantasy #princess #wolf #romance #well sort of #at the end #fairy godmother #fairytale

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archivelondonfalling-rpg · 2 years ago

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Isabella Wright ♦ Cisfemale (she/her) ♦ 21 ♦ Civilians ♦ Medical Student

“All I’ve ever wanted was to help others - and medicine certainly provides a good first stepping stone for that.”

Isabella was a prime example of children being similar to their parents. Both of her parents firmly believed in doing good, even if their methods did not always get the credit that Isabella believed they deserved. As a child, she wanted for nothing - her family certainly wasn’t wealthy by any means, but they gave her books, and as her interests continued to develop, they gave her her own training medical supplies

Her parents always believed that training the mind was equally as important as anything else. Of course, they encouraged Isabella to have as much freedom as was possible, though said freedom certainly came with some limits. She was allowed to climb as many trees as she wanted, but her parents always kept detailed track of her, not wanting her to come to any harm. She was, after all, their shining light - their everything.

She took to the role naturally, and despite her innate curiosity, she was never someone who her parents had to worry too much about. They gave her the space that she needed (which wasn’t much - she started university with the full intent of living with them for the duration of her studies, and she genuinely enjoyed Sunday night dinners with both of them.

Though well-meaning, her parents’ watchful eyes aided in Isabella’s tendency toward naïvety - toward believing that much of the world would be the very same - the sort to look out for hers and others’ well-being. She also firmly believed that everyone deserved to be seen for who they were, and there was no fault in anyone’s existence. More than once, she was told that perhaps this wasn’t the best way to see the world, but she never sought to change it. She was practical, after all. She had a way of seeing things that worked for her, and changing that would have involved too much upheaval.

She held fast to her want to discover all that she could - to find a way of helping the whole world, herself, and so she eventually chose surgery as her main area of focus within medicine - and though she might have claimed to have thought about it for ages, anyone who knew her knew that such a match had always been destiny. Neurosurgery, specifically, because an understanding and appreciation of everyone’s minds was something Isabella valued immensely.

Isabella’s thoughts had always been too focused on academics to ever think about romance - despite her love of romantic tales (she’d beg her parents, even as a teenager, to recount the story of how they met) until the beginning of her second year at university, when she happened to meet Thomas - who was a few years older than her, mysterious, and one of the most intriguing people she’d ever met - and though she didn’t fall head over heels right away, soon enough she found herself in love, and a few years later - just this past summer - found herself engaged, and happy to the point that she took to pinching herself to see if this was simply all some sort of dream.

Everything she’d wished for was falling into place - engaged to the love of her life, on track for the career she’d dreamed about ever since she was a child, and a continuing never ending desire to keep on discovering more about the world. After all, no matter how much she liked things shiny and bright, Isabella's curiosity was not so easily sated.

+ / - Smug, kind-hearted, altruistic, naïve, curious, uptight, perfectionist, creative

Isabella played football (soccer) as a child, but stopped when she went to university. She’ll still sometimes play a pick up game here and there, but she’s much more focused on schooling and her future as a doctor at this point.

She got her appendix taken out when she was eleven. After the surgery, she proceeded to ask her doctors dozens of questions about the whole process, as she was rather disappointed that she couldn’t be awake during the event.

Has a collection of hot sauces in her and Thomas’ home - she’s up to about a dozen different sorts now and will absolutely add some to her takeaways if she doesn’t find them spicy enough.

She has a tendency to sketch as a method to help her calm down and relax - though she’s certainly not an expert of any sort, her appreciation for detail has helped her be at least moderately skilled at the craft.

Absolutely loves trying new kinds of foods, and is the sort of person to almost always have a snack or meal of some sort on her.

She is fluent in Spanish and English, and started to try to teach herself Japanese when she met Thomas. She also knows a decent amount of Latin on the scientific side of things due to her long-lasting love of medicine. One day, she would love to learn Arabic.

FC : Inde Navarrette

#isabella wright #inde navarrette #civilian #bio rp #crime rp #new rp #writtenbyemily #taken

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 4 years ago

Text

The aftermath of Merlin snapping, and yelling at Arthur in the middle of the forest;

Arthur pushes for change, the gang takes bets on when Merthur will happen, and someone, somewhere, is grumpy.

Part 2 of Merlin’s Angry Outburst.

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Once Arthur has a first draft of the repeal, the first people he brings in on it (with Merlin’s approval, of course) are the 5 knights, Gwen, Gaius, and Morgana.

(Morgana, who later that evening comes back to Arthur's chamber in tears (Merlin is also there) to reveal her magic, and thank him for not being Uther.)

All of them enthusiastically agree, after only a little conversation.

Elyan and Leon are the most... dubious, but only because of the practical factor, they don't disagree with the actual repeal.

After months of the gang working in secret, they reveal their best draft to the council. At least half the council are new members that Arthur appointed, the rest are left over from Uther’s time.

They argue back and forth for a while, half vs half. A few of the older members, who were around before the purge, slowly start changing their minds.

In the end, it takes them maybe a month to get a majority, and Arthur overrules the remaining opposition. He is King after all, technically, he doesn’t even have to have a council.

Days after the agreement is reached, Arthur goes out personally to collect a few specific Druids, who had been waiting just outside the border for the go ahead.

It takes maybe another month to go through all the laws thoroughly, changing and editing and altering what needs to be altered. With the help of Arthur's close advisors on the political aspects, and the help of the Druids, Merlin, and Gaius, on the magical aspects (what should be allowed freely, what should be monitored, and what should remain fully banned).

The city celebrates when the announcement is made, they all loved the new King anyway, and had been overjoyed with the drop in executions, and deliberate ignoring of small instances of magic.

After a feast to celebrate the new found freedom among the people, the gang gathers once more, in private, and Merlin tells a shortened version of the story he'd told Arthur all those months ago.

None of them are that surprised (Gaius, Morgana, and Lancelot already knew, of course).

If they hadn't suspected Merlin of being a sorcerer before this whole thing started (Leon, Gwaine, and Gwen definitely suspected) , then they had certainly begun to in the last few months. They cheer when Merlin finishes telling them "just how often I've saved your oblivious arses" .

They cheer even louder when Arthur announces that he would be made court sorcerer, and it would be made official in a ceremony before the week ended.

There are no cheers when Morgana stands.

Curious eyes land on her, probably due to how terrified she looks, but the small encouraging nods and little smiles she gets from her brother (her Brother), Merlin, and Gwen, give her the strength she needs to tell everyone of her magic as well.

They see she is frightened, they imagine how difficult it must have been, being at first Uther’s ward, and then his daughter. They smile gently, and she receives hugs a plenty. Once all the congratulations are out of the way, she sits back down next to Gwen, still shaky and full of adrenaline, but happy.

She spends the remainder of the group’s quiet celebrations with her hand gripped in Gwen's under the table.

(Read this how you want, I personally envision it as the start of something)

So the days draw on, Merlin is announced Court Sorcerer, Arthur hires another manservant and gives Merlin a large set of chambers in the same hallways as Arthur's, complete with all the books on magic Arthur can find, and several of the magical artefacts that had previously been kept locked away (Merlin and Arthur are the only ones who are able to gain access to the room, something magicky I guess).

(No one mentions that that corridor is supposed to be for royalty only. Leon figures they're bound to realise that they're in love with each other any day now, and then Merlin will practically be royalty anyway so... might as well cut out the middle bit of having to shuffle chambers again later on).

The kingdom is prospering, and for months after the initial announcement, and implementations of the new laws, sorcerers and nobles from all over Albion, visit Camelot, to give congratulations to the King.

They give gifts and provide knowledge.

The Druids, however, are a slightly different story.

The ones who had been helping with the paperwork, had been... odd(?) around Merlin. But they respected his wish to keep all of that under wraps, or at least until it was announced publicly.

Arthur and Gaius know the whole Emrys story. Lancelot and Morgana know bits of it... but other than that... as far as anyone is concerned, the newly promoted Court Sorcerer is just another wizard.

The new Druids entering the kingdom are paying brief respects to the Forever King (I mean... at this point, he's still only King of Camelot... which is what he was before the magic ban repeal), before staring in reverence at the Court Sorcerer stood by his side.

They respect his wishes to keep the worshipping and gift giving to a minimum, though they still come to him for requests of miracles and ask him to perform druid ceremonies (blessings and name-givings and weddings and funerals (though they prefer to call them celebrations of life, rather than commiserations of death) and such).

Merlin can only brush off so many displays of such awe before the rest of The Gang demands to know what’s up, at which point he has to come clean about the whole... “Most Powerful Warlock To Ever Walk The Earth” thing.

Much to Merlin’s chagrin (and everyone else's amusement) the Druids still insist on calling him Emrys. The stubborn ones sometimes even go for "My Lord Emrys", which gets them a scowl from Merlin (and barely concealed laughter from everyone else).

Maybe... later on... when Morgana is more comfortable with her magic, after a few months practicing with Merlin (with a supportive Gwen Always at her side) , she is announced as the Court Seer.

Merlin had never had much luck with prophetic visions, but once Morgana’s fear died down, once she learned to let it flow, and breathe through it, the visions come easier, and kinder.

She stops seeing only visions of doom, and worst case scenarios, instead she has dreams of the many paths the future may take.

She does not panic when a path seems grim and dark, for she has a King and a Warlock and Gwen, by her side. Always. And they work through the future together.

So the ban has been repealed officially for around 6 months.

Arthur is a couple months away from completing his second year as King. And he and Merlin are still beating around the bush.

The betting pool for when they’ll finally get together has been growing bigger and bigger. Practically the whole castle is in on it now, with Gwen and Morgana as the ring leaders. Whoever wins... will be very lucky.

(It's Leon in the end, he pays attention, and he know what his boys are like. But he's a noble and has no need for the money, he pays for a few rounds of drinks and donates the rest to one of children's homes in the lower town).

But the war comes first.

Camelot has been prospering, and has many supporters throughout Albion, but one of the kingdoms, it doesn't matter which, you decide, does NOT like this.

Scouts and small patrols have been needling Camelot’s borders for months now, and Arthur and his Council (and Inner Council) have been making quiet preparations. They know that some sort of... something, is coming soon.

Especially when Morgana begins to dream of battles and blood and lightening.

They prepare for, and expect, a full scale war, but they hope for some negotiations and a peace treaty with the opposition.

Their hopes are dashed, when a messenger is escorted into the throne room, wearing The Opposition’s colours, with a letter.

Said letter is an angry rebuttal of everything Camelot stands for, full of accusations of abandoning tradition, and spitting in the face of great leaders, of which this soft boy-king should NOT be counted as.

At the end, there was an official declaration of war.

The messenger boy was obviously scared to death, and once Arthur read the P.S, which invited Arthur to torture and/or execute him to the whatever extent he wants, he understood why. Without any hesitation, he offers the boy a job in the stables, a new wardrobe of clothes, and a servant’s bed in the castle.

After the official council meeting on the matter, setting up war committees, laying out contingency plans, organising the distribution of emergency evacuation plans, and discussing potential aid that could be requested from allies, Arthur pulls the gang together, for their own meeting.

“We knew this was coming, and there is no need to panic yet. Our outer borders are well patrolled, and we’re still getting up to date reports. The city walls hold strong, but I want to send out patrols to warn the villages of what’s coming. Start closer to the border, and work our way in. Leon?”

“My Lord, I have teams prepared for exactly that already, I just need to give the word and they’ll go.”

“Good. Morgana, I need you to try and keep focusing your visions, if we have even a small idea of how they might try to initiate the first battle, it’ll be a huge advantage.”

“Me and Merlin have been practising some new techniques to control where and when I can see, we’ll write everything down, and ask the Druids if they’ve seen anything as well.”

Arthur holds in a smile at the confidence in her voice. He is unendingly proud of how far his sister had come, and made a mental note to tell her that when all this was over.

“Brilliant, keep me in the loop. Gwen, when we’re done here, go and let the forgery know, the Royal Household will pay them extra to push out as much long range ammunition as they can. Arrows and crossbow bolts, we need as many as they can produce.” Gwen nods, and Arthur finally looks towards Merlin:

“And Merlin, I need you to be ready. Don’t wear yourself out too much in the next few weeks, I need you in good condition, if we’re to win this with minimal casualties-”

He glances over at Morgana before he continues:

“If the two of you could also ask the Druids if they have any volunteer healers. Make sure they know they aren’t obligated to come, but any help in the infirmaries would be greatly appreciated.” Morgana nods once more, as does Merlin, before he speaks:

“There’s a camp a couple hours ride outside the city at the moment, we’ll head out at first light-” He pauses and closes his eyes for a second, tilting his head, before looking to Morgana:

“They’re expecting us.”

Arthur addresses the room again:

“Right. I think that’s all for now, anyone have anything to add?”

Gaius responds after a moment:

“My Lord, if I could make a request for a few servants to help me set up supplies for the infirmary? Extensive preparations will need to be made to ensure that I have all I’ll need. Preferably people with rough herbal knowledge, if at all possible.”

Arthur nods straight away, responding:

“Yes, of course, I’ll ask the Housekeeper and the Steward who they can spare this evening, and they’ll be ready for you in the morning. Anything else?” At the silence in the room, Arthur tells everyone to get to work.

Leon marches straight down to the training grounds (Lancelot, Gwaine, Percival, and Elyan following him) to ring the summoning bell and inform the knights of the developments, and their tasks.

Gwen heads straight to the forgery (her and Elyan still oversee work there, but they have employees (and a few trainees) to run it) to give the Kings order.

Gaius shuffles out, and makes his way back to his quarters, already making mental lists of ingredients needed, and work to be done.

Arthur, Morgana, and Merlin are left, the royal siblings thinking to themselves, and Merlin thinking to someone else. Arthur contemplates that the whole mental link thing he had going on with the Druids was extremely useful.

Both his and Morgana’s thoughts were interrupted by Merlin huffing, and clenching his fists as he opens his eyes, obviously unhappy with whatever was said:

“Merlin?” From Morgana has the Court Sorcerer looking up from scowling at the table. He replies after wiping the frown off his face:

“Oh, it’s fine. They just made a... stupid suggestion is all. Don’t worry about it.”

“Stupid? Doesn’t sound like the Druids. What was it?”

Merlin looks mildly uncomfortable at that, and replies slowly:

“It... doesn’t matter. I’ll tell you another time. It’s late, you should practice some meditation and head to sleep, no potions tonight. And remember to keep some parchment and a quill by your bed, so you can scribble down anything you see-”

Merlin stands abruptly and heads towards the door:

“-I’m going to check the wards on the outer wall, and push a little more energy into the wells. I’ll see you both bright an early.” With that, Merlin heads out the room swiftly.

Arthur looks to his sister questioningly, but she shrugs as she responds:

“Who knows. “I’ll tell you later” means he doesn’t want you to know, OR he’s hoping I’ll forget because he doesn’t want either of us to know. He’s right though, I should meditate for a while-”

Morgana stands at this:

“- hopefully I’ll see you before we head off, if not, I suppose it’ll be dinner in the evening. Good night, brother.” Morgana leaves the room gracefully, heading in the direction of her chambers.

Arthur thinks for only a moment, before rushing off, catching up with Merlin as he readied his horse, preparing for the journey to the outer walls:

“I’ll come with you. I find I quite enjoy watching you do magic, and to be perfectly honest, I could do with some fresh air to help me think.”

Arthur pretends to ignore the slight blush that dusts Merlin’s cheeks, and readies his own horse. The two of them ride out of the stables and make the journey down the cobbled roads in comfortable silence, side by side.

They take their time on the journey, and the 15 minutes of companionable silence is finally broken by Arthur, who looks at Merlin curiously, as he says:

“So what did they suggest?”

Merlin looks up sharply at that, broken from his deep train of thought as he dumbly replies “What?”

“The Druids. What was the stupid suggestion?” Merlin’s eyes widen at that, and he blushes once more as he looks determinedly forward:

“Oh. That. I told you, it doesn’t-”

“Merlin...”

“Oh fine! They suggested that I... that I forge a mental link with you. Like the one I have with them.” The sorcerer purses his lips at that, and continues to avoid Arthur’s gaze:

“You can do that? Well... would it be such a bad idea? I mean we aren’t going to be able to meet and discuss things as often as I’d like through this whole ordeal. AND you’re basically the Kingdom’s powerhouse, I’m sort of relying on your magical know-how here. Surely it wouldn’t be a bad thing? For us to be able to converse across the battle fields?”

Arthur, in an effort to not be hurt, reminds himself that he doesn’t know all that much about magic, and it very well could be a stupid suggestion, instead of one that Merlin is just personally opposed to.

Merlin, in response, looks to Arthur in great shock, before sighing and looking down to his horses mane:

“It.... is possible. And fairly easy, technically. But it would be painful, AND permanent. I wouldn’t be able to undo it after we won. And a temporary connection takes far too much energy to maintain, even for a short time. I just figured you wouldn’t want me in your head for the rest of our lives.” He tries to inject a little humour into his words, but it falls flat, and he just seems sad.

Arthur pretends he doesn’t notice however, and responds quickly:

“How painful are we talking? I mean I’ve been hurt pretty badly before. And... how exactly does it work? Would we be able to read each other’s mind constantly, without the other knowing? Or what?”

Merlin raises his eyebrows in shock at that, and his answer comes out slowly as he looks at Arthur:

“Like... a really bad headache? Imagine the hardest you’ve ever been hit, without passing out. It would last for a few minutes after the connection is initially forged, but would fade slowly over the next day or so. And no. Once the connection is established we wouldn’t be in each other’s head all the time, we would just be able to sort of... project our voices to one another. Other thoughts would be safe, even if you were thinking about me, I wouldn’t hear it unless you were thinking to me... if that makes sense.”

By the end of his explanation, he’s looking nervously at the King, who is deep in thought:

“Hmm. Ok. I... only if you agree but... it might not be a bad idea. Even after the war is over. There have definitely been times where I’ve needed your opinion on something but you’ve been elsewhere, or we’ve been in the presence of someone else. Of course we’ve been fine so far, if you don’t want to, but-”

Merlin interrupts him, speaking quickly:

“I’m fine with it. I agree, it would be useful. So... I can bring what we need back from the camp tomorrow?”

Arthur nods firmly:

“Yes. The sooner the better, we can do it tomorrow evening, if that’s enough time for you?” Merlin once again looks shocked at this, as Arthur stares at him:

“Oh! Yeah, Yes. That’s fine. Like I said, it’s not particularly difficult, and I can ask Gaius to prepare us something for the pain during the day. Are you... are you sure? It is Permanent.”

Arthur rolls his eyes and huffs:

“Yes, you said that already Merlin. Are you sure?”

Merlin nodded his head decidedly, and spoke confidently:

“Yes. You’re right, it’s not a bad idea. Come on, if we hurry, we’ll make it to the walls, and then to the main well, and then back to the castle, before dark.”

The pair of them hurry their horses, and after another 10 minutes of comfortable silence, they finally reach the City Gates.

The guards give a quick bow, and The King and The Court Sorcerer jump off their horses before handing the reigns to one of the Gate stablehands.

Arthur (and the guards) watch in barely concealed wonder as Merlin presses his hands against the rock of the wall, and closes his eyes.

The golden glow can still be seen from below his eyelids, and he hums slightly as he frowns in concentration, seeming to push into the wall.

Arthur sees a short of... sheen, ripple across the rock, and extend into the sky. Merlin steps back and nods, admiring his handy work:

“They’re holding strong, I’ve extended the height as well. Kilgharrah and Aithusa should be the only ones able to get over it without alerting me now, from the air at least-”

Merlin heads to retake his horse, Arthur following him, before he continues:

“Though I still want to check the tunnels again at some point in the next few days.”

“Of course. Relax Merlin, it’s barely begun, and the borders still hold strong. We’ve plenty of time before things kick off in any way.” He makes sure to speak quietly. A public announcement hasn’t been made yet, and it would be bad if rumours started spreading before The King had time to put together a proper disclosure.

Merlin nods distractedly, and urges his horse to go faster as he heads towards the main well, in the town square. It’s late, not long until sunset, so there shouldn’t be many, if any, people there. Arthur speaks again:

“Why are we visiting the well? I wasn’t aware of any problems?”

“There aren’t any, but once the announcement is made, and once the outer villages are told what’s happening, we’ll have hundreds, probably thousands, of people flock to the city for safety. I just want to make sure we’re prepared for such an influx, and boost our water levels a little.”

Arthur nods at his response, but doesn’t say anything. He chooses instead to admire the man Merlin had become. He held himself differently, more strong, confident in who he was. Just like he had back when he was still a manservant, he served Arthur, and his people, above and beyond his job description. Merlin took upon himself, not only the politics he was supposed to oversee, but the personal safety of both the King, and every Camelot citizen, and he did it all with an alarming amount of grace.

Arthur sometimes catches himself thinking that it was almost as if Merlin was built to be a king. He may not like the spotlight, but he was a protector, and leader, unlike anything Arthur had ever seen before.

“I don’t think I ever thanked you, Merlin. It feels like years ago now, that you yelled at me in a forest.” He says it with a grin, but Merlin flinches. He continues before The Sorcerer interrupts him though:

“Really Merlin. Thank you. You were right, I would’ve got there in the end, but it wasn’t fair for people to suffer in the mean time, and you took the fall in their place. You’re a hero to your people... and to me. You should be proud of your accomplishments, I know I am.”

Arthur resists the urge to duck his head as Merlin looks at him in bewilderment, a definite flush on his cheeks as he replies:

“I... thank you, Arthur. I always had faith in you-” Merlin begins to grin before he continues:

“-and besides, someone had to knock you down a peg. Perhaps you should hire someone to take you into the forest and yell at you every once in a while.”

Arthur laughs at that, and Merlin tries to push down the blush as Arthur responds:

“Now Merlin, why on earth would I hire someone for such a job, when I already have you?”

Merlin chuckles as he answers:

“Yeah, and don’t you forget it, My Lord. Hold the horses, I’ll just be a minute.” With that, Arthur realises they’ve made it to the well, and dismounts as Merlin has, holding both of the horses reigns as he watches Merlin approach the well.

The Sorcerer crouches down, and once again closes his eyes in concentration as he presses his hands into the stone of the well. The glow is a little less bright this time, but Arthur admires it nonetheless.

Merlin finishes quickly, and gathers his horse from Arthur once more, nodding towards the castle.

Arthur follows as Merlin hurries towards the looming building. He wasn’t sure why he was in such a rush, but he only begins questions it when Merlin hurriedly hands the horses of to a stablehand, and continues to run up the castle steps.

Arthur can only just keep up with Merlin, not having the breath to ask him what’s wrong, before Merlin suddenly comes to a stop, catching his breath for a moment to go through a door leading to the highest balcony on the West of the castle:

“Merlin... what.... what are you-”

Merlin wordlessly interrupts The King as he points to the skyline, the sun only a few minutes away from touching the horizon.

There’s not a cloud in sight, and the sky is painted in oranges and pinks in front of them, bleeding into deep purples and blues behind the castle.

Merlin finally mutters, not looking away from the sunset:

“Call me a girl all you want Arthur, but nothing compares to this. It’s beautiful, I come to watch it whenever I’ve got the time.”

Arthur had only glanced briefly at the sunset before looking back at Merlin in wonder, a fond smile on his face (not that Merlin would notice).

He stares at the side of Merlin’s face, the orange sky making the gold in his eyes look even brighter, and the glare of the fading sun making his hair shine. A gentle breeze has Merlin shiver slightly, and Arthur’s smile widens as he responds, so quietly he’s not even sure if Merlin hears him:

“Hmm. Beautiful.” He doesn’t look away.

THIS IS COMPLETED! All 5 parts have been posted:)

If y’all want my thoughts on anything specific let me know✌️

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nyxetoile · 3 years ago

Note

BLACK WIDOW SPOILERS

Nyx! First off, the MOMENT i saw the pigs I thought about Amanda’s serum guinnea pigs 😂

Second, I would like to know your opinion on the two fake parents, specifically the fact that they were forgiven by Nat and Yelena. I know I’m reading a lot of my own abuse in them, but I’m finding that other people agree on the both of them being manipulative, without remorse and basically irredeemable. I hate the fact that they were forgiven, especially since the plot is to destroy the red room, only for the sisters to turn around and forgive the ones who sent them there 🤷🏻‍♀️ it’s the only thing I dislike about an otherwise excellent movie. What do you think about it?

I will say first off, that I really wish we'd had more time to spend on the girls' relationship with the Melina and Alexei to really dig into some of this. But I did not have a problem with the forgiveness or the redemption, despite my own history of abuse. Because I think, in their own ways, Melina and Alexei were also abused/manipulated.

This got really long so, more under the cut.

Melina specifically says, when they're bugging out of Ohio, that she doesn't want to go. I think those three years being a family were probably the best years of their lives too. They did clearly care about the girls and in many ways raised them. Melina kept the photo album and Alexei has a tattoo of two roses with Natasha and Yelena's names under them.

The did not send the girls to the Red Room, the girls were in the Room before, that's why they were put in as spies. Nat tries to protect Yelena saying "she's only six" and Alexei says "You were younger" (This also means Yelena was 3 when the Ohio job started) These girls are clearly taken by Dreykov as toddlers to start training. Nat knows how to fly a plane and disarm a guard at ten. One could argue, I suppose, that they should have tried to prevent the girls from going back in, by Melina was on a stretcher bleeding out and Alexei was clearly drinking the Soviet Kool Aid at that time. Even if he'd tried, he probably just would have been killed and maybe gotten the rest of them killed too.

So let's dig into what they know about the "parents." Alexei seems to have been, essentially, a patriotic Russian, who was disillusioned and fell out of favor and then sent to a gulag. He was experimented on and became a super soldier, so there is an obvious Steve Rogers parallel to be made. Westerners probably balk at the idea of comparing a Soviet to Captain America but hey, it was his country and he was being told this was how it would be saved and become a global super power. Maybe he's a little gullible. Maybe he was grateful for becoming a super soldier. He sees his youth as his glory days and is striving to be good enough to have them again. I think, when he refers to their time as a family as boring, it's because he's had to diminish it in his mind as a protection. If he remembers it fondly, as a time in his life he was happy, then he can't be satisfied with the other parts of his life. He defines himself as the Soviet SuperSolider and acknowledging that being a suburban dad was better than that is destabilizing.

When he sees the girls, he immediately slips into Dad mode, even if they don't really want him to. He tries to give them multiple pep talks and tell them stories, but they're all colored by the life he lived. A life that was filled with violence and following the party line else he gets sent to prison, which he eventually was. Basically, it boils down to, I think Alexei wanted to be/thought he was a good loving dad, he's just sort of bad at it. Because his morals and priorities have been warped by a very strong propaganda machine, both from the Soviets, and Dreykov, but also his own mind. He remembers Yelena's favorite song, 20 years later, enough to sing it with her. (A song with the word America in it!) How many times did he hum that to himself in prison, and think about the glimpse of a normal life he had?

Melina is both trickier and more straight forward. She's a Black Widow, from a very, very young age, like Nat. She tells her she'd done 4 rounds in the Red Room before Nat was even born. God knows how many different kinds of programming and re-programming she's had. Her and Bucky could probably trade stories. (And you have to wonder, why 4? Did she rebel a few times and need some refreshers?) She's also clearly a brilliant scientist. So eventually she learned to behave, do what she's told and maybe she'll get a smidgeon of freedom, a moment of peace. That's like, the definition of an abuse victim. Like she says, she was born in a cage and never saw a way out. She's a direct parallel/shadow to Nat. She's what Nat would have been if she hadn't met Clint and gotten out. A brilliant woman ground under the heel of an abuser until it was too late to see any other way. And the instant she learns that what she taught Nat mattered, that she had some small part in Nat being able to escape and have a life, she turns on the Red Room and risks her life to take it down.

At its core, Black Widow is about abuse victims - in different stages of abuse/recovery - taking down their abuser with extreme prejudice. Nat is out of the abuse, she's recovered, she's created a life and friends/family away from it, but is willing to put herself at risk to prevent him from hurting others. Yelena is newly out, just learning what that means and very much at risk of falling back in. Alexei had been abandoned by his abuser and is still so much under his sway he wants back in, because it's safe and familiar, but when the girls offer him a better way he takes it, for the chance to be free for good. Melina, Taskmaster, and all the current Widows are still in the abusers control, too afraid or institutionalized, or just plain tired, to fight back. In the end it takes all of them, in big and small ways, to burn Dreykov alive in a crashing helicopter. And that's really beautiful

#bw spoilers #black widow spoilers #tw abuse

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malachi-walker · 4 years ago

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Happy birthday, Mal! I love your fics, they evoke so much emotion in me and have made me cry many a time. I don't often reread fics, but i've reread multiple chapters of Rhythm and Blues because they're stuck with me so much. You capture the emotional pain of their trauma and the catharsis that comes with their growth so beautifully. You also write some brilliant meta and just consistently post some fantastic thoughts. Also your love for swords is very appreciated. <3 have a lovely day!

First of all, my apologies for not replying sooner. I was making my mind up about something that would definitely require the use of a read more and thus necessitate dragging myself to desktop (which I hate because my laptop predates the dinosaurs.)

But seriously. Thank you so much. This is honestly one of the sweetest comments I've ever gotten and definitely made my already pretty sweet bday even better.

So about that read more. In honor of you, @metalesbo, my friends @n7punk and @jem-jarrett and everyone else who sent me well wishes or just really loves my work... Here's the opening section of the next chapter of R&B. Enjoy. It's a long one.

Adora Eternia is about two months shy of her fourteenth birthday when she first realizes she's in love with her best friend.

Though--if asked--she would hasten to explain that it wasn't when she fell in love. But trying to pinpoint the exact moment is an exercise in catching mist: the more she tries to grasp it in her hands the more it spreads out and covers everything. It just is: pure and simple and very, very complicated.

It's the beginning of December and the whole town is covered in a thick blanket of snow. Winterfest will be here in a few weeks, so to help out the kids who want to get gifts for their friends the Right Zone administration has shuffled around the groups that usually take their monthly trips on the third and fourth Sundays of the month to double up with the other two. As part of group three, she and Catra got the first week (the other three members of their crew are week two folks anyway and thus outside the reorganization.)

It's still kinda weird to think that: their crew. For so long, it was just Catra and Adora. Adora and Catra. One unit bound together, just them against the world. But there's also something nice about being part of a small cluster, their "scrappy little lone wolf pack" as Catra had once put it with a wry grin before Lonnie shoved her over with an, "Excuse you, I'm a great people person when I'm not busy making sure you idiots haven't set yourselves on fire!"

They all got a good laugh out of that one.

But regardless, the holidays are coming up and this is the first year that any of their group has felt like actually doing anything for it, aside from wrangling together a sleepover and seeing if they can convince the kitchen staff to slip them some leftover eggnog.

They made each other promise not to go too extravagant and keep each person's gift to ten dollars or lower. Even though their quarterly stipend has increased from three hundred to four hundred to match with inflation over the past eight years, it still isn't a whole lot for three month's worth of expenses, especially when they also have to budget regularly for clothes to keep up with the seemingly endless growth spurts.

There's also the usual budgetary concern of keeping her and Catra's first aid kit well supplied...

Adora shakes her head to dislodge the intrusive thought and continues marching onward through the snow. This trip is a good thing. She won't let all the awful realities of their life taint it.

With so many kids running around and wanting to shop on their own to surprise their giftees, Right Zone had to negotiate with both the local police and whatever other civic authorities they could get ahold of to come out en masse and keep an eye on them all. The kids had still come with their usual teachers, of course, but doubling the load and also splitting up was a logistical nightmare. Which is just a convoluted way to say the town is positively crawling with uniformed officers, off duty members of the fire brigade, emergency personnel, and other such authority figures quietly keeping watch and making sure no one tries anything.

Adora knows that somewhere in the press of bodies, Grizzlor's busy wrangling two new "brats" (seven and nine, respectively, and definitely not friends.) Somewhere, a certain Magicat is probably grumbling over the indignity of being forced to wear shoes and kicking every snowpile she can, like she can send a direct message to whatever cosmic force is responsible for her current frustration.

On an ordinary month she and Catra--being old enough to be allowed a bit more freedom to do what they want--would buddy up to watch each other's backs while they did their shopping. But this isn't an ordinary month, so once they'd each gotten gifts for the other three they'd split up on opposite ends of Main Street with an agreement to move clockwise to avoid running into each other. Afterwards, the entire group would rendezvous at the small clock tower in the park a block over before heading back to Right Zone.

Ten dollars wasn't a lot to work with, but Adora had done her best: a new stress ball for Kyle, some moisturizing oil for Rogelio since the early winter shed had wiped out his supply and he'd been too busy to pick up some more, a twelve pound kettle weight for Lonnie now that their shared exercise routine was getting a bit too easy for her... Utilitarian choices, to be sure, but she's been paying attention and that has to count for something.

Catra's the difficult one, of course. Partly because Adora doesn't want to just get her something practical, but also because they share nearly everything between them already. About the only thing that is definitively off limits is Catra's guitar, and she's told Adora enough about her time with Tao over the years that Adora wouldn't even ask. Beyond that... Well, there's a reason why most of Adora's day off hoodies have small strands of orange fur stuck to them.

Still. I want to get her something that's hers. Something she'll like. Something she doesn't have to share with anyone, not even me.

In the end, she nearly walks past it. In one of the artisanal shops that dot small towns like liver spots, she finds a display of hand stamped necklace pendants, with a design sheet beside it. There are a lot of the usual nature designs and such, but the one that catches her eye is a treble clef with the five staff lines bleeding out from it. They ring the edge of the pendant in a half circle, and scattered haphazardly along the lines are the other music notes.

The lack of proper order would drive Adora insane. She understands that it's just meant to look pretty, not be an accurate representation of musical notation, but still... She knows her own (broken) brain well enough to know that.

It suits Catra, though.

"Hey," Mismatched eyes looked down at Adora as her head draped backwards over the back of their desk chair, the throbbing behind her left eye threatening to escalate into a migraine. "Guess I don't have to ask how the composing's going."

"It sucks," Adora groused back, sitting up and gesturing Catra over. She jabbed at two particular spots with the half chewed off eraser end of her pencil, two hard jabs each, like she was filing a complaint. "Most of it is just what I'm going for, but these two places here... They aren't sounding right. I've been going back and forth over structure all afternoon, but nothing I do helps."

"Hmmm..." Catra stroked her chin and nudged Adora over so she could sit on the arm of the chair (they'd never gotten around to requesting a second, mostly because Adora didn't want to risk Shadow Weaver suspecting they were getting too chummy.) "Got any scratch paper?"

Adora pointed to the pile of half crumpled notebook paper she used when making adjustments and Catra snorted. "Ok, dumb question. Just let me see here..."

Grabbing a pen, she quickly inked a fresh set of staff lines and copied the notes Adora had already put down, making sure to leave space to work. Glancing between the two, she drummed her fingers on the desk, playing along in her head.

"Hmm..." Catra murmured, worrying at her lower lip with a fang in a manner that was... Oddly distracting. "Ok, how 'bout this?"

Adora jolted, tearing her gaze from Catra's face to look at the sequence of notes scribbled onto the scratch paper. She paused, brow furrowing as she played them over in her mind's eye. It was a little unorthodox, veering away from the path she had carefully laid out... But also blending well with the next part. Almost like the notes took a quick detour and then lead the listener back to where she wanted them.

"Yeah..." Adora replied thoughtfully, the tension all over her body starting to smooth out. "Yeah, that could work."

"Awesome. Let's take a look at the next part."

They ultimately ended up spending several hours going over the entire piece, sussing out every place where Adora was having even the slightest niggle of unease. She didn't accept all of Catra's changes and Catra didn't push the matter, but the ones she did...

They felt right. More right than they had ever felt when it was just Adora running circles around herself.

When they finally finished up she looked over at Catra, tail waving sedately in that way it got when she was simultaneously engaged but relaxed, and asked, "Umm... Do you want to learn with me? I like doing this."

'I like making music with you.'

Catra paused, looking over at Adora searchingly, almost like she couldn't believe the question had come up. No matter how many years had passed between them, that look never really went away, and every time she saw it Adora's chest ached in a way that was hard for her to process.

"I'd like that."

Catra's composing style is very different from Adora's. More wild, more willing to bend and break the rules if it means maintaining audience engagement, but there's always an underlying order to the chaos. To her surprise and pleasure, Adora found herself learning just as much from Catra as Catra was learning from her. Their styles brought out the best in each other.

The jingle of a bell kicks her out of the memory. Mind made up even though it's nearly double her budget, Adora scans the stand of necklaces for the one with the treble clef pattern.

It isn't there. Adora swallows down the disappointment, though she can't help the sigh. Of course. The town was well aware of the large population of music students a short drive away and catered to them accordingly. But there are also dozens of kids out on the street tonight. It isn't that big of a surprise that the design sold out.

Not surprising, but disheartening nonetheless.

She's just begun to turn away when a voice calls from the back. "Hang on a sec there, little miss."

Adora jumps, but remains where she is as a large Taurian man with a massive snow white beard trundles out from a door behind the counter, wiping his hands on his apron. "Was there a particular design you were interested in?"

Adora points at the treble clef, hope rising. "This one. But it looks like it's already sold out."

"Hmm..." The man scratchs at his chin. "Well with Winterfest coming up, I'm out of blank pendants-"

Adora's shoulders slump.

"-But," The man continues with a smile. "I can double stamp it onto the back of another. Ordinarily I'd charge extra for that, but it's my fault for not ordering enough blanks. Rookie move. Besides, it's the holidays. Now would that be all right by you?"

Nodding frantically in case he changes his mind, Adora scans the other designs, quickly alighting on one in particular. "That one!"

"The claw marks? Bit of an odd combination, but the customer is always right," The old man winked as he reached out to take the necklace from her. "My jig and press is in the corner over here if you wanna watch."

Adora was glad he specified, because as nice as the man seemed there was no way in hell she was going into a back room with a stranger. But she stood next to the window beside a display of miscellaneous knick knacks and puzzles, watching him carefully place the pendant in a cushioned stand to avoid damaging the already printed side and tighten it into place before moving beside the machine.

"You're gonna want to cover your ears," He tells her, patting the machine with one massive hand. "Had to switch to a steam press when the arthritis caught up to me. Used to do it all by hammer. This boy's okay, but he gets loud."

Adora nods, glad for the warning when he bellows "Clear!" and the machine's hammer comes down once, twice, three times with a sound like the ringing of an enormous bell. Once the machine is stopped and carefully turned off, the old man removes the pendant from the press and hands it over to Adora for inspection. "What do you think? Does it pass muster?"

Adora runs her fingertips over the impressions in the metal, memorizing the feel of it, the leftover warmth of the impact. "Perfect."

"Good. Now let's get you rung up."

Counting the five dollars she attempted to surreptitiously slip into the tip jar (the old man winked as he turned back around, so stealth fail) Adora went very over budget, but the others would have to put a gun to her head for her to admit it.

Besides, it's Catra. They already know she's the sole exception to all of Adora's carefully maintained rules.

With everything finished, she continues trudging through the snow toward the park, breathing a sign of relief as she moves away from the shopping district and the people thin out; no one wanting to go to the park in the middle of such bleak weather. Angling around a clustered group of bare trees, she spots the small clock tower in the distance, as well as the figure already standing beside it. Grinning, Adora picks up the pace a bit until she can see Catra clearly and--

Her breath catches.

Since her only experience with this kind of thing has been through books, Adora always expected this moment would be more dramatic. Like back to back in the middle of a fight, or eyes locking from up on stage. Something spectacular, like fireworks, lime explosions, like the feeling of playing a song without a single mistake for the first time. It's always seemed like such a big deal in the stories, and in a way, it is.

Because there's Catra, lost in her own world as she gazes up at the streetlight that's just come on, her left hand extended to let the snowflakes fall into her palm and the light catches the orange of her fur just right to make a blaze of color against the black of her coat. She looks so small, standing in that space all alone on a cold winter's night, but Adora knows deep down that she could never be that small, not when she's Catra, not when she means so much...

Pretty much everything about the past hour--about her entire life since they met if she's being honest--snaps into crystal clear focus.

Oh. I get it now. I'm in love with you.

It's a bad idea. Adora knows that. Shadow Weaver is enough of a menace while believing Catra is simply her roommate, her sometime tool--and Catra had ended up being all too right about the torture not stopping, even after years of Adora trying to direct Weaver's attentions away from her. If the evil old bitch figures out Adora's feelings run deeper, so much deeper...

Her heart beats double time. This whole thing is an unmitigated disaster.

But it's still the best worst thing that's ever happened to her.

She must make a noise, because Catra's ear twitches in her direction, snapping her out of that distant contemplation. She turns her head and looks at Adora, lips curling in a lopsided grin. "Hey, Adora. Wow, you look like you've seen a ghost."

Adora blinks, coming back to herself and mumbling the first excuse that springs to mind. "... Just cold."

"Well no shit. C'mere."

When she closes the distance Catra glances around warily, making sure they're the only ones around, before reaching up and retying the scarf around Adora's neck, patting it once when she's done. "There. I know I make it look good, but you don't have the advantage of fur like me."

Adora looks down at the thin AC/DC t-shirt that Catra's wearing beneath her half open coat, the line of her collarbones and neck, and makes a snap decision. "Is it okay if I give you your present now?"

Catra blinks, a little thrown by the non sequitur. "I mean... Sure? Do you want me to give you yours?"

"I'm good with either," Adora shrugs, trying to ignore how fast her heart is beating, how much she wants to do this before this moment slips away. "I just want to."

There's a long moment of silence as they each examine the other, equally searching. What Catra's looking for, Adora doesn't know. She isn't sure she wants to know.

"Okay."

Breathing deep, Adora reaches into her pocket and pulls out the necklace on its leather cord. Careful to keep the pendant hidden in her hand, she passes it over, fingertips sparking as it's taken. Catra brings it close to her face, running her fingers over the four parallel slashes on the side facing her.

"Why the claw marks?"

Adora laughs, nervous butterflies positively rioting in her stomach. "Because you're a badass. Duh."

"True," Catra smirks, flipping it over and squinting at the other side. "And this?"

"Badass, loves music with all your heart. Not mutually exclusive concepts," Adora says, trying not to give away how much she thinks about this, how much she wants to take that hand in hers. She settles for a playful shoulder bump instead. "Plus we all know you're secretly a big softie."

"Excuse you, I am all sharp edges," Catra giggles, lightly elbowing her before transitioning into a soft little smile. "... Just not with everyone."

Oh God oh God oh God. That smile will absolutely be the death of her.

Swallowing past her horrible awareness of that softness, Adora asks, "So you like it?"

"I love it. Good luck ever getting me to take it off," Catra laughs, then frowns, flexing her fingers. "Hands have gone a little numb, though. Help me put it on?"

Adora.exe promptly crashes to desktop. But she still somehow manages to move, helping Catra hold back her mane so she can slip the leather cord over her head and tuck it beneath her hair. If she hesitates a moment too long in letting go, at least Catra only shoots her an amused glance. "How's it look?"

"Great," Adora manages to croak out, trying to swallow past the sudden dryness in her throat. "You look great. Umm... Happy early Winterfest, I guess?"

"Well, I'm gonna hold onto yours a little longer," Catra laughs, playfully sticking out her tongue before reaching out. "C'mere, you big dork."

Adora shuffles closer, mind and heart both screaming as Catra draws her into a hug, nuzzling her head against the side of her neck. A little whisper. "Thank you."

Adora swallows again, even harder. "You're welcome."

Between them, the necklace rests, the music side pressed right up against Catra's heart.

----------

Fun fact: the shopkeep is based off a cool old dude selling machine pressed necklaces I ran into at a Scottish festival when I was 13, and he made such an impression I never forgot him. Anyway, happy Valentine's! Have a Big Gay Realization!

#answers #rhythm & blues #the catradora rockstar au #featuring adora's big gay realization #and also fantasy christmas

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koo-zy · 4 years ago

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hello! do you have any fantasy/historical jungkook x reader fic recs ?

hello lovely!! i’m so sorry i missed this yesterday :( i was actually planning on reorganizing my tumblr because i feel like no fics are ever going to be able to be found my blog LOL so hopefully that’ll be done soon!!

as for the fantasy/historical fics.. i’m honestly not too sure what “fantasy” (do demons count..? soulmates..? werewolves????) typically includes so i’m just going to include a bunch of fics that hopefully fit in :”) here are the first ones that i thought of + summaries included in their main posts!

also.. i’m sure i missed a lot of amazing fics (mainly because i’m dumb as hell and don’t really know what can be included in “fantasy”) and would like to apologize in advance!!

@inktae ’s entire masterlist (they have a lot of fantasy fics!)

while this isn’t just jungkook recs, @ficswithluv had a fantasy category a few weeks ago!

@kpopfanfictrash ‘s jungkook masterlist

@fortunexkookie ‘s jungkook masterlist

one shots!

énouement - @littlemisskookie Mulan!AU

War is Hell, but it’s what you had to do to take your brother’s place. Of course, between the days of Hell are little slices of Heaven you’d call your Captain, Jeon Jungkook.

midas - @gukyi

jeon jungkook was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and the power to turn whatever he wants into pure gold. you were born with healing and invisibility powers but without a cent to your name. so when you’re plucked off of the streets for pickpocketing and assigned to be his minder as punishment, you realize you’re going to have to overcome a lot more than class differences if either of you are going to get what you want.

i will not lose! - @jimlingss Magic!AU

A single bet - use every means to make Jeon Jungkook fall in love with you.

a piece of the moonlight - @/jimlingss Mulan!AU

For your loved ones, the people who are waiting at home, the people who have died - you will fight. And sometimes to fight means to sacrifice: who you really are and the person you really love.

dynasty - @/jimlingss Historical!AU

It’s no secret that the Emperor is infertile. But even so, a girl is selected every three months and brought to become his concubine in hopes of conceiving the next heir. This time, it’s you. And in order to prevent execution, Jeon Jungkook might just aid you in conception.

game of temptation ft. knj, myg, kth - @/jimlingss Succubus!AU

As a succubus, your beauty is unrivaled and shaped to tempt mortals. But it’s still hard to resist Taehyung, and there’s little you can do once you’ve been coerced to do his bidding for him. This time, you find yourself entering the affluent Kim Household as a housemaid. And these poor humans don’t know your intentions are far from being angelic.

knot today - @kinktae

(IDK IF WEREWOLVES COUNT BUT JERHFBDSKNZX THIS IS REALLY GOOD!!)

When your first heat approaches and you are left partnerless, who better to turn to than your alpha roommate that you’ve spent the better half of your life hiding your feelings for?

ego - @luxekook Harry Potter!AU

(..i also don’t know if HP counts LOL)

in which jeongguk is a cocky lil shit and the reader has to take him down a few pegs

stumbling - @hayjeon Prince!AU

an ask in their inbox regarding the prompt: hii! so the royal wedding of prince harry and meghan is today, and since my bias is JK and since i’m such a sucker for royal stuff, can i reuest a fic of bts all being royal of 7 different kingdom, and all of them being invited to jin’s wedding and the girl (oc) is also invited and kookie met her there, and eventually took an interest at her? the girl is also royalty from other kingdom. thanks!

werewolf!jungkook - @/hayjeon

an ask in their inbox regarding the prompt: Werewolf!jk? (im sorry ik it’s overused and unoriginal) where he and his mate have pups to take care of and they’re quite a mischievous bunch!

there for you - @cupofteaguk Hogwarts!AU

Jungkook is always known for doing things unapologetically, and it makes sense given how almost nothing gets under his skin—almost nothing, but maybe there’s an exception that takes a form of a muggleborn with the shy smile and quirky spells.

say you won’t let go - @/cupofteaguk Soulmates!AU

You’ve been eighteen years old for ten years when Jungkook first moves in

new romantics - @/cupofteaguk Hogwarts!AU

Jeon Jungkook will go down in history as one of the best Quidditch players that ever graced the Hogwarts scene. It seems like he always gets what he wants—his life is very predictable in that sense. What he cannot predict, however, is the newest weekend employee wiping down the tables at the Three Broomsticks.

a cinderella story - @suhdays Modern Cinderella!AU

you are forced to work multiple jobs as you live under your stepmothers roof. unable to move out and strive for complete independence, you do what you can in order save enough. turns out, as a college student that is harder than you thought. so, you distract yourself by joining online chat groups in which you meet a boy that goes to your school. that boy? none other than the rugby star himself, jeon jeongguk. it doesn’t prove to be an issue until he asks to meet you at an upcoming halloween party. he’s never noticed you before so why not hide yourself in order to live your dreams, if only for a moment?

explorer - @1kook Alien!AU

Jungkook does not want to impress the frankly tyrannical ways of his planet on you. He just wants to stay here and keep your couch warm for you, hold your hair back when you wash your face in the morning.

rottenfolk - @junqkook Faerie!AU

a look was as hazardous as chemicals, a kiss as perilous as poison; his eyes and lips felt akin to a cure, but he was purely venom.

the young wolf - @/junqkook Game of Thrones!AU

he was promised to another, meant for another to hold and to love and to kiss. but when his hand lingered on yours for a moment too long to be proper, and when his eyes held yours for a beat too long to be a passing glance, you allowed desire to creep into your veins, to take root inside your heart. perhaps before you might have been permitted to love him freely. perhaps he might have even been promised to you instead. but war was no place for the wants and desires of two people, no matter how much they yearned for it to be.

the lighthouse - @rubycoast S2L!AU

(im not too sure if this is considered fantasy but its one of my favs!)

you and jungkook had one thing in common: you were both lost souls stagnant in the search of some fulfillment. the one of many differences was that your story had been written on your sleeves, while jungkook’s was a story needed to be unriddled.

black magic - @hansolmates Magic Uni!AU

a witch with an ambition for learning, you stumble across a crushing spell in the middle of the forbidden section. of course you have to try it out! what happens when the crushing spell not only has jeon jungkook crushing on you, but you crushing on him?

the sea & the storm - @jamaisjoons Fantasy!AU

the sea is a powerful mistress. she is calm and beautiful. she is mysterious and alluring. she is a force to be reckoned with. above all, however, she is lonely. until she meets him. fantasy au.

the lionheart’s oath - @sugaxjpg Knight & Princess!AU

There was no happy ending, no dragon slayer to save the kingdom and get the princess — there was only him: Jungkook. A simple orphan that was lucky enough to be invited into the castle, a former homeless thief that had found shelter in the form of an elysian heir. Now, after twelve years by your side, he was about to lose you to the world you sought to explore.

ghosts just wanna have fun - @/sugaxjpg Psychic & MedSchool!AU

When Jungkook discovered that he could communicate with dead people, the last thing he expected was that they would be there to give him romantic advice.

wartime child - @ktheist Wizard!AU

raising a baby in wartime isn’t easy. but when your baby starts showing signs of magical abilities, you’re forced to ring up the only other person you know he takes after: jeon jungkook.

birth of an empress - @/ktheist Dragon Slayer!AU

partners for three years and friends for longer, jungkook thought you’d remain so until he saw you with the knight at the merchant’s trade.

alternatively, the friendly neighborhood wizard trying to propose to the infamous dragon slayer in the middle of slaying a dragon? now, that’s classic.

series/two shots!

fear in your eyes - @/gukyi Werewolf!AU

(again, idk if werewolves count but hifksdjcx !!!!)

there’s a werewolf in that forest behind your house, they told you, and he’ll eat you before you can even beg for mercy.

the worshiper series - @/jimlingss

Long ago, there were gods who resided in Heaven -- existing to watch over and protect the universe. Each of them had their own flaws, trials and tribulations; some which were more sparing than others, but these are their stories...

a promise of freedom - @/jimlingss Wartime!AU

War is cruel and its inhumanity has not spared you. Captured by the enemy, you were brought to the front lines to heal their wounded. But after one night of saving a particular man’s life, he swears to fulfill any wish of yours.

one year, my love - @/hayjeon Historical!AU

You forge a marriage contract with the strangely speaking man who suddenly stumbled into your town with memory loss, but little do you know that he’s actually the lost Crown Prince, and a lot can happen between a married man and woman in one year.

demigod!au drabbles - @/hayjeon

an ask in their inbox regarding the prompt: i have a supernatural au prompt! how bout daughter of hades/loner!reader and son of zeus/bully! jungkook?

into the woods - @/junqkook Goblin!AU

getting hurt and stumbling upon a goblin in the forest leaves you completely at his mercy, though you aren’t sure if that’s necessarily a bad thing.

lionheart - @/junqkook Magic!AU

as a sorcerer, it is of the utmost importance that you keep your magic a secret from everyone. when you become prince jungkook’s servant, it becomes increasingly difficult to keep your identity hidden; especially when you fall in love with him.

a royal exchange - @/hansolmates

she’s the man!au where the princess impersonates her brother yoongi in order to finish his degree on time while yoongi is thrusted into princely duties. jeongguk is in the mess purely through room arrangement

knight!jungkook x princess!reader - @/ktheist

a series with 27 parts!

that’s all i can think of off the top of my head right now :(( not gonna lie, half of these probably don’t even fit into either of those categories and i know there are so so so many amazing fantasy/historical fics out there!! i wish i knew them all but i hope this helped a little bit! if anyone has any fic they’d like to rec, feel free to send it to meee :)

and finallyyyyy i leave my following page open for viewing as well so you can check out all of the authors i follow!! please show all of these authors (and many more) some love! <3

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lunarianillusion · 4 years ago

Text

A change in fate

a maribat fanfic

Chapter 08

It was so noisy; it was too noisy.

Marinette’s thoughts were running a mile a minute through her head. They were whirling around and around like a tornado. The thoughts were consumed in worries about everything that had happened in the last few days and could possibly come in the following. Her mind was overflowing with possible plans that her anxiety would then throw down into the void, only for them to resurface and overflow her mind again and the cycle would repeat itself over and over.

“Mari-”

The guardian knowledge, her thoughts, plans and worries colliding and overlapping with each other ripping each other apart, mending back together and whirling around her head like a hurricane. Her thoughts losing coherency until only a buzz like sound could be heard and it was only getting louder and louder.

“-ette…MAR-”

Her body began to feel numb as her brain stopped working coherently. She could barely move or feel her quickening breath, she did not notice her vision becoming blurry. Al the while her mind kept spiralling down, down, down, dow-

“MARINETTE!!”

The noir haired omega’s head shot up from where it had been laying on her crossed over arms. Her wide glazed over eyes locking onto a pair of concerned ocean blue eyes, but any other facial features were obscured in her hazy vision. A muffled sound, almost like rhythmic drumming sound, cut through the static haze in the girl’s ears. Was someone talking to her? She could not tell. Then her tingling hand was moved even though she did not will for it to. It took her a second to realise that the person infront of her had taken a hold on her wrist and had paced her hand a solid but warn surface, their chest.

The warmth of the clothed chest slowly chased away the numbing cold that had taken over most of Marinette’s body. She could now feel the slow rhythmic beat of the person’s heart and breathing, a stark contrast of her own erratic beating heart and stuttering breath. As if by instinct the omega began to copy the steady breathing pattern of the person infront of her and as her breath came back to her so did her vision. When it cleared up, she could see the person that had been helping her, it was Timothy.

“That it Mari, breathe. Just breathe,” The alpha spoke calmingly, his voice finally breaking through the static noise. The feeling soon returned to the girl’s body as her other senses started to calm down and her head started to clear.

Marinette let out a deep breath as she slowly removed her hand from Tim’s grip and used it to lean her head on top of instead. Closing her eyes to straighten out her last few disordered thoughts. That was one heavy attack and bless the kwami for their protection.

“You back?” the voice of the male infront of her once again breaking through her train of thought. Her eyes opening to look again at the raven haired alpha and giving him a small smile of reassurance. Her eyes drifted to her surroundings in order to pick the pieces of the morning for her memory had been foggy. With just a miniscule glace she was able to make out that she was in her classroom way before the bell would even ring. From their her memory started to piece itself back together. After having gained all the collected information from mist she had barely gotten any sleep even after the kwami’s had forced her to her bed. Her head had already started its downward spiral at that moment. That morning she had past her parents through the front of the bakery instead of going through the front door. They had said something to her, but even now she did not care what they had said and had gone straight to class when the whirlwind really overtook her.

“Y-yeah, I-I’m back,” the omega spoke softly to the alpha, who was now watching her like a hawk, with a small stutter. A moment of silence followed allowing Marinette to collect the final pieces of her scattered thoughts.

“Is it okay for me to ask what was happening inside of your head, or is it too soon?” Tim asked in a soothing tone. Marinette gave him another small smile to show her appreciation for his care. The genuine care he showed her warmed her heart, even with the suspicions she still held.

“S-sometimes the bottle cracks from all that we try to keep inside, away from the surface,” the noir girl spoke with a chuckle coming out of the alpha and omega duo. “How can I get your mind out of those thoughts?” “Just talk, the silence drags me back under,” The omega responded to the alpha’s question.

Tim gave a moment of thought to a possible subject to talk about and came to a different topic instead. “How about we ask each other some basic questions to get to know each other better?” Though this was a nice and normal suggestion to everyday people this suggestion made Marinette’s hero mindset jump to attention at the possible recon opportunity. Maybe she can get a clue on him possibly being Red Robin. “Sure,” she answered softly.

And so, the asked each other several simple question. The very obvious questions of favourite colours and hobbies one enjoyed. Over the short time they talked Marinette noticed a topic that seemed Tim avoided talking about. “Say what is your family like, I don’t think you ever truly mentioned them since we met. Did they move with you to Paris?” The omega asked. An innocent enough question on the surface but could aid Marinette in discerning Tim’s possible relationship to Red Robin. She could ofcourse ask the kwami’s or use soul vision again. However, the headache was still bothering her greatly and made it hard to focus and this was good train for her growing detective skills. That still did not prepare her for his answer.

“They died some time ago,” the alpha’s voice was soft as he spoke and his sent was spiked in discomfort. The words made Marinette silently wince. “I am sorry. I did not mean to bring up bad memories.” Tim gave her a small smile, understanding showing in his eyes.

Still a question rose up with this revelation and concerning his age. “Do you have a guardian though? I don’t mean to say that I do not believe you can’t take care of yourself but we are of the same age and both underage, so should you not have a family or guardian with you?” Marinette asked, or rambled, as carefully as she could, maybe not as subtle as she would have wanted to be though.

Tim gave her a gently smile to reassure her from her anxious nerves. “I was taken in by a family acquaintance of my parents, who took me into their pack. But I emancipated myself a few months back, because I could not stay their any longer,” he told her in a calm manner, that made Marinette tilt her head with a hope for elaboration. Which the alpha gave. “Things started out really well but over time that foundation cracked and I did not feel welcome or save there anymore. So, I decided to start anew. I decided to move contents because I really do not feel like seeing them again and that is basically how I got here.”

No lie slipped from the raven-haired male’s lips. It took the omega slightly by surprise how honest he was about his situation. Marinette could easily tell as the emotions behind that statement lay bare in his eyes to see and the scent of regret seeping through the cracks of Tim’s control. It made Marinette feel more relaxed and made you over thinking brain ease up on her suspicions as her more sympathetic side came to life.

“I am sorry that all happened to you,” she started off, “To a certain degree I can relate to you in regard to worsening pack relationships,” The omega’s eyes were down cast as she reflected on the past few years. Timothy tilted his head with a gentle look in his eyes curious about the full story, what most likely included the lying orange sausage haired spider but waited for the girl infront of him on her own terms. The gesture was appreciated and so the words easily started to flow out of her mouth. “Believe it or not before Lie-la came along I was ‘friends’ with all of our classmates. Then the spider came along and turned all on me making them think I was a bully and now she has even ensnared my parents into her web of lies,” the midnight haired omega huffed before a conclusion she had come to hanks to this whole drama. “To a degree though I am grateful to the lying bitch,” She stated honestly, making Tim look at her in shocked surprise. “Thanks to her I was finally able to see who my friends are truly and who were nothing more then parasitise piggybacking on me for special favours,” Marinette elaborated gaining a nod of understanding from the alpha.

“I do envy you in a sense,” She continued, taking the ravenette by surprise once more. “I hate the situation that you got pulled into and I truly wish you did not have to go through that, but at the very least you were able to pull yourself out. Leave all the bad shit behind and start anew. I have tried getting out several times, but each and every time something or someone block my way to freedom.”

“Trapping you in a cycle of neglect and pain,” the alpha led out a pained breath at his own words as Marinette nodded in affirmation. The two fallen into a surprising comfortable silence, their presence soothing to the other. A part of Marinette’s brain thought that this was mostly due to the bond between true souls, but though that was definitely a factor a small part of her also thought that the raven-haired boy was someone she would truly able to trust. And being honest she did want to trust him.

“If you ever need help,” The male of the wo spoke, breaking the silence. “With trying to get away from humanity’s fucked society. Just say the word I will be happy to help,” he finished with a snap of his fingers, almost in a theatrical way.

A small playful smile grazed the female’s features as she spoke. “I will certainly call upon you should I be in need of your aid,” the omega tone sounding playfully posh. That was quickly caught by the alpha before her. “But pray tell how you would give me your aid?” This sent a banter ball rolling.

“Why can’t I look out for my fellow coffee loving insomniac with a likewise neglectful past,” Tim responded in likewise posh playful tone. “Truly one would think us to be related.”

“Oh, good heavens no,” Marinette gasped dramatically, as she placed the back of her hand onto her forehead. “I as the goddess of coffee am far too radiant to be related to you my dear friend.”

Tim gave a snort at the girl and her theatrics, before responding in in kind once again. “You are right. Your freckles make you to beautiful to ever belong to this mortal realm. I implore for forgiveness from my mistake a great mistress of the divine elixir that gives me life.”

“My, my is quite the development,” A new voice broke into the conversation. The dark-haired duo flushed at the amused voice and turned to the front of the classroom and the one who spoke. Their just on the steps leading to their seats stood an amused looking Chloé Bourgeois, a glimmer to her eyes that send a small chill down the dark-haired duo spine, and an equally amused Nathaniel Kurtzberg. At least it was not Lie-la and her posse of brainwashed fanatics.

In a graceful yet still dramatic motion, as per Chloé style, did the blond take her place beside her female omega friend. Her grin never leaving her face. Nathaniel two shuffling into his seat beside the male alpha. “Nathaniel we must prepare for the future,” the blond girl spoke first, finally turning away from the blushing pair. “If they are already fliting one this level, it will only be a matter of time before the two are married. And it is only the second day no less.”

The duo’s faces turned even more red with the statement and Nathaniel seemed to want to add some more fuel to the fire. “Yes, I think you are quite right Chloé. Before you know it, little dark-haired pups will be running amuck across Paris.” That statement drew a sound kin to a dying animal out of the dark-haired girl, much in contrast to the blonde’s badly hidden laughter. “Truly the end is nigh!”

Marinette’s face was ready to combust, if it had not already, from embarrassment. Looking through her fingers, with she had covered her face, she turned her eyes to Tim who was trying to cover his own face and was also as red as a lobster. At least she was not the only one on the receiving end of the teasing. She watched the dark-haired male take a peek at the clock and copied his action. It was almost time for the bell to ring.

“Though this is truly an enjoyable subject,” The alpha male spoke, his voice laced in sarcasm. “But unfortunately, the toxic spider and her gaggle of annoying flies will soon be upon us.” His statement made Marinette’s fellow Parisians groan along side her in misery.

“I suggest that after this day of hell, we go over to my place and have some pack bonding time. Even get a head start on our investigation in that deceitful orange sausage, sound good,” The only blond of the group spoke. She may have said it was a suggestion but her tone left no room for question.

It still surprised the two boys at how easily the two females accepted them into their pack. A small warm smile graced Tim’s face for a moment as a warm feeling rushed through his pained heart. It soon changed into something more mischievous as the annoying sound of the liar graced his ears. “Say who wants to make a bet on the lies we will hear today.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The two hidden kwami’s, Duusu and Wayzz, smiled at the turn of events. A rush of relief and feeling of gratitude flooding over them as the young dragon helped the young peafowl and new guardian out of the dark corners of her mind. A feat they had not been able to accomplish, no matter how hard all the kwami had tried, since the child’s awakening.

Marinette may not yet fully trust the boy, but in time hopefully she would. For even though the new guardian could see ones souls she could only see the surface level and could not see the dragon’s scars that reflected her very own. The two kwami present dearly hoped the two true souls would be able to help one and other heal, but only time will tell.

taglist: @moonlightstar64 @iloontjeboontje@mickylikesstuff@myazael @scribblinggraveyard @incredulous-reader@mewwitch@woe-is-me0 @fan-written@coolspidermanmusicflower@heretopasstimebi@jjmjjktth@ichigorose@cmouse @nyx-in-line@chocolatecatstheron@bookgirl14 @toodaloo-kangaroo@iglowinggemma28 @itsmeevie01

#maribat #timinette #timari #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #tim drake #chloe bourgeois #nathaniel kurtzberg #kwami swap

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redloftwingfeathers · 4 years ago

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I feel like talking about the shit Zelda not only had to put up with but also what she subconsciously summoned herself and you're going to sit and listen and maybe cry with me okay? Okay.

While I don't think that was very cash-money of 'Hylia' to make Zelda wait until she's reached true, unrelenting despair to finally find her light, it made me wonder how everything came into play that made her journey so painstakingly hard, and not just Hylia pulling fast ones from the clouds. (Trust me I wanted to blame the goddess so bad after that moving performance at the spring of power but wait!! there's more!)

Things I'm looking at are specifically Zelda's anxieties of wanting to be a scholar but having to throw herself to the dogs of religion to keep Rhoam happy, the HEAVY depression she carries with not just from the loss of her mother but also just constantly being berated by her father and feeling like she's not good enough for Hylia, the jealousy and anger she harbors towards Link in their beginnings and how it effects her growth.

All of these are things (coming from someone who is very mentally ill) are ingredients that distract Zelda from her goals, intentional or not.

Zelda has a classic case of "I wanna do This Thing (studying, traveling) but I have to do That Thing (religion, strict orders) instead and now the fun is sucked out of it and my mind is buzzing and now I don't know what to do girl (hylia) HELP"

What's even worse is despite her hand-picked maturity, she KNOWS what is right and what she needs to do (her level of self awareness is impeccable sometimes) but she is still just a child in the end, wanting to live her life without dictation, which causes frustration and anger and can lead to self-doubts.

Starting with the loss of her mother, Rhoam claims that Zelda did not cry at all during the ceremony, and that it proved to him he could still be a strong king with how unwavering his daughter was. And although that's shown as an "awe inspiring" moment, it shows Rhoam does not understand how the processing of grief registers differently amongst people, especially children. She may have not showed it when she was, what, 6? (Not every normal 6 year old understands the fragility of mortality) but you can definitely see it affects her later on as Zelda grows older. It may not be entirely visible at first, but the way they portray it in HWAoC (I know its not entirely canon but bare with me on this) she longs for her mother's advice and comfort when her pleas and ideas fall deaf on the king's ears. Her mother seemed to be a very wise and compassionate queen, where Rhoam is a wise and a very bite-the-bullet king.

When stakes are high he trusts what he thinks needs to be done, and he enforces Zelda to finish her training Because she is part of his plan to push back the calamity. He knows protocol, and there's no room for creative thinking when the land of Hyrule is in danger. (Disclaimer: I hate Rhoam but I can also try to see what Nintendo was doing. He's not intentionally mean, he's an assertive dad that wants to see his daughter succeed (and also hella depressed) but he's really fucking bad at it and comes off as a dickhead. He is the embodiment of a boomer that does things the old fashioned way to get things done).

But all of this pressure he is putting on her, taking away things that make her happy so they don't distract her from her duty, shooting down her ideas because he wouldn't know how to even approach it from his standpoint, it really does a number on Zelda and really births her insecurities.

No matter how hard she prays and dedicates herself to Hylia, it doesn't work. Her mind is distracted, filled with fear and very little hope that the magic isn't Working. What even kicks me in the jaw more is that she's putting all of her effort into these prayers, and it's not even her wish she's making. It's Rhoam's wish. Her Ancestral Family's wish. That's why it hasn't sparked. She's praying on the behalf of her father and ancestors and not herself because she firmly believes there's other ways to settle the score. Zelda knows the importance of her role but its just not clicking when someone else is forcing you to do it. It just doesn't work like that.

Moving onto her liaison with Link, she is, well, in the beginning very irritated with him. Even a little bit after being chosen by Fi. But I don't think she MEANS to be angry at Link, he didn't do anything wrong in all honesty. She shouldn't take out her anger on him, but she's jealous, and he exists...so like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

When Link is suddenly chosen by the sword at a drop of a hat?? Yeah she's relieved, but there's also undertones of resentment. All of her Champions are here at the ready and she's still trying to figure out what shoe goes on first. She is the goddamn Princess of Hyrule, one who carries the blood of Hylia in her veins, and this random tiny knight who, mind you, fought tooth and nail to be her escort ends up finding his role before her? She is riding the struggle mule up Mount Lanayru (and I don't really blame her). And when she's exploring the shrines?? She makes it very clear to him she can work independently and does not need an escort, which although understood (freedom is a peace everyone strives for) she is careless regardless of her careful planning and efforts. She's a Princess, wandering Hyrule unarmed (and without her powers) with a horse as her only mode of transportation. You won't see yourself as a target even if they're pinned on your back, and with her determination to utilize these mysterious shrines as more Sheikah tech is being discovered is making her blind in remembering where she's placed in social status. It's dangerous, and I'm glad Link is there to see what she fails to see.

That's another thing too. As they progress and strengthen their friendship, Zelda sees Link as a mirror to question what her role really means. She uses him as guidance to help understand her situation, asking him "If you were told your whole life This is what you're meant to do, to take up your family's legacy...but one day realize this isn't what you want, would you still take the path you've been told to take?" In this case I think it's safe to say this is what Link knew he wanted. He loves being an aid to those in need, and becoming a knight despite following his father's path, this felt like his true calling. The spirit of the hero is VERY strong in his soul, and when he sees someone in need of help [Zelda] he's going to aid them whether they want it or not.

But Zelda still feels so lost, she feels so disconnected from her ancestors, as the previous daughters in the royal families were Given their powers at birth and meant to be awakened when the time has come. They were all given the gift of premonition, to be a medium for Hylia and a messenger of the gods, and overall able to keep Ganon away from the world no matter how many times he crawls back from the depths of hell. Being told your whole life you're meant to be like your ancestors, but not being able to fulfill any of those roles? It makes the past seem like one giant fairy tale when in you're in BotW Zelda's shoes.

No voices, no premonitions, no secret awakenings...Nothing.

At this moment, I finally understood why Urbosa said to Revali about Link. She said he is a constant reminder of Zelda's own failures. Link found his calling by following his instinct. Zelda has yet to figure out what she really wants, and is clouded by judgements not only from her father and people, but from herself too. With every passing day she is undergoing a meltdown, questioning if she is even meant to be apart of this whole plan anymore, probably something among the lines of "Was it meant to be someone else? I'm the only daughter, and yet I can't even do my one job." She lost everyone and everything, she's frightened, it feels like she's lost her faith in the gods, or even dare say, the gods lost faith in her.

But through absolute despair when Link just about gives his life for her protection, that's when it all clicked. She found her power and strength through Link, who was the one that, all this time, taught her about what she needed to do to awaken her powers without even directly telling her. Every conversation she had with him, she saw herself in Link. She saw all the effort he gave into becoming a royal knight, the unwavering determination in his eyes with every Lynel he slew, a never ending supply of optimism and hope no matter how high the stakes were. And yet he was also Free. He followed his path blindly, not even knowing where he'd end up, as long as he knew he was

able to protect those in need. And she wanted that.

He was her mirror, and Zelda managed to awaken herself when that mirror cracked.

Living the burden of being part of a prophecy and saying you're ready for anything, is very reckless. Understanding the heaviness that comes with sacrifice is not truly understood until it starts happening to you.

Zelda found her wish, her independence through Link. Her mind is finally clear and she understands what her role means in all of this.

She is meant to protect, to save, to understand more than just personal loss.

Zelda couldn't stand by idly anymore after everyone told her to do something else and let others handle the job. That was the last straw when Link stood in front of her, shield weak but at the ready when that guardian approached. She saw the desperation and said NO, which finally broke her seal. She chose to sacrifice herself, igniting her powers just as Hylia did for her people. She chose to save her last, literally dying hope, because Ganon cannot be fought alone.

He was the connection, the literal link, she needed to awaken her powers. And I just find that so fucking great.

Anyways thanks for coming to my TED talk I've been typing this for like 4 hours now

#hHGDFJDF SORRY THIS IS SO LONG #dont tag as zelink pls i tried keeping this ambiguous as possible thank #the legend of zelda #botw #aoc spoilers #sorta #cat talks #also my thoughts are flying faster than my fingers #so this might skip and jump around #my adhd welcomes you

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hanahaki-neko · 4 years ago

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Across Millenia | Venti x Reader

He never once forget about her. Even after so long. But Venti never expected to meet her again,after all this time

note : reincarnation AU. again this is a work from wattpad but i hope y’all enjoy it. this is from my early days so excuse me if the fic is bad lmao

Windwheel aster. That was her favourite flower. Even as a little wind spirit he'd keep a breeze blowing through the field to ensure that they don't wilt. Sure he was just a tiny insignificant being in the world with little to no power over the whirlwind surrounding the city,but at least he made sure the flowers where she would often go was always there to greet her.

Y/N and the bard would make their way through the city. She would smile in delight whenever she sees the little windwheel asters. True that they only grow in places that has gentle breeze. One without or one with too much fierce would kill them. The girl and a few others that had one of these flora on their windows or balcony never really did realize that the tiny spirit was the one who made sure they're still alive.

He cared about both of them so much. They had grown so close and even spend almost every hour together. Talking about the most trivial of things and doing everything together

"You two are just like twins." She laughed when he tried to shift and look like the bard.

"Well maybe he can sing with me by the tavern sometime in the future."

He loved her. He loved her so much. He didn't care if a little wind spirit and a human can't be together,or did he know if this was okay. But he never really had the guts to tell her properly. The bard knew of his feelings and was completely on board. He'd go to where she'd usually be and spend time together,sometime leaving him be with her while he went to get some drinks. He loved the bard for his supportive nature and he loved Y/N for her kind and gentle soul.

Watching the windwheel aster spins gently,and watch the dandelions scatter around when blown. "They're just like you when you float around." Said the girl,and he giggles in response. He loved the look of peace and serenity in the comfort of those flowers,despite the tyrant's rule.

Whatever would made her happy,he would do. Bringing cookies when she's feeling peckish,to visiting her during sleepless nights and keep her company. Comforting her when she feels sad. He would make sure that she keeps smiling everyday.

He would watch over both the bard and Y/N to ensure their safety. He would also support their decision and wishes. So when the bard voiced his objection against the tyrant's control over the city and seeing the girl also agreed,this little wind spirit too decided to join the rebellion. Rallying up the citizens to overthrow the tyrant,the chaos that came over,it was pretty overwhelming.

He did his best with his powers to assist them. Many bloods were drawn,many lives lost. They were separated as he went with the bard. Swords clashed and screams of pain an agony echoed throughout. But for freedom, nothing is too much of a price.

Is it?

He watched in horror,as the arrow pierced his chest. The bard fell to the ground with a thud as others rushed to his aid. The tower crumbled down as the tyrant is no more,but in the fight to obtain freedom, the bard had lost his life. Just as he thought this couldn't get any worse,the little spirit noticed that the girl was nowhere to be seen. He flutter around in panic,already crying his tiny heart out. And it just shatter into a million pieces when he saw her underneath the rubbles of the building. He cried and pleaded for others to save her. But no one could as the damage had been done. Cuts from swords and a stab wound by the spear was the end of her.

"No,no,no,this can't be happening!' He knew he should've told her to stay out of the fight. She shouldn't have grabbed that sword and fight alongside the others. She smiled weakly with grief hidden underneath upon knowing the fate of her friend the bard. She tried to reach out a hand to the spirit,which he could only held a finger with his tiny body.

"Make sure the freedom stays with them,okay?"

He did his best to keep that promise. He knew that both the girl and the bard would be glad to know that their effort weren't in vain. Their funeral was held and weep he did for a period of time unknown to anyone. How long had it been. Almost over three millenia by this point? It's been so,so long and yet it's one of the memories that stuck with him.

Fly fly away

Like the birds in the sky

See the world on my behalf

To the heavens you may fly

The song never once left his memory. The ones sung by the bard and the girl. Whenever he walks the land of Mondstadt and hear the people drink and party,Venti couldn't help but feel just a bit nostalgic. He toured the city and the land that he should've been govern, simply singing and telling tales to those who would listen. Just doing anything other than reigning over the city.

He was taken back to reality when Aether called him. Venti stood beneath the tree in windrise as he looked to the windborne traveller.

"Shouldn't you be on your way to Liyue by now? You're going to miss the rite of descension if you don't hurry." He said.

"Well we should make if it we use the teleport points. It might take only a few days and the rite is probably still a week away." Paimon replied.

"And i kinda want to spend just a bit more time with you before we depart,if you don't mind? And you know maybe take a commission or two." Aether asked.

Venti smiled,"Might as well visit Mondstadt and pick up a few audiences." They all walk back to the city where once again he sings and tells many tales. The tale of how Mondstadt becomes the city of freedom it's known right now. How the people of old times fought the tyrant. The memory of his past clouded his thoughts,and he almost cried during his performance.

Aether treated him to lunch at good hunter afterwards and they had quite the uneventful day,really. The traveller was talking to Katheryne about some commissions when Venti felt someone approaching them. He glanced over to see who it was and he was,how to put it- surprised? Dumbfounded?

The same silhouette and appearance, the h/c hair might have been a different length in the eyes,but everything else was exactly the same. Venti kept starring at her,lost in time gazing into her e/c eyes. She looked back at him and smiled a little greeting them.

"Hi. I'm Y/N,the one who commissioned for the whopperflower hunt?"

"Oh,yeah. What's up with that?" Paimon asked.

Vent completely tuned out the entire conversation. Was it possible? Is it the same person he knew back in old Mondstadt? Just being able to see her brought back the abundance of memory he had. 'Get it together,Venti. At least say something to them.' he thought to himself. He jumped a bit when Aether tapped his shoulder,asking him something he didn't quite catch.

"H-huh? What?" He looked at the traveller.

"I said can you accompany Y/N while me and Paimon check out the horde of whopperflowers and get some nectar?"

"Oh! Oh,yeah,sure."

"Geez,he's been spacing out a lot today. What's wrong with that tone-deaf bard." Paimon sighed before the two of the left the city.

Venti is now left alone with Y/N,with both of them not really knowing what to do or say to each other. "I don't think we've officially been introduced. I'm Y/N,an alchemist." The girl said trying to break the silence.

"I'm Venti. Though you might know me if you've come and listen to my performance before this encounter." He replied to which she smiled and nodded a little.

"Say,you..want to take a walk around Windrise? The weather's nice today." He offered.

"Well,i can't progress my research until i get the materials needed."

She accepted the offer and he took her hand and led her to one if his favourite spot. Holding her hand felt exactly the same as it did all those years back. Her hands felt small against his, though it would've been the opposite in the past. The two sat down under the tree and exchanged stories. Time flies when you're having fun.

"You like flowers?" He spoke after noticing her holding a certain set of them.

"I guess? I like windwheel asters most, though." She smiled in reply.

He couldn't help but think 'just like her' as she went on to tell about how she grew some of these at her house. How they only grow in places with gentle winds blowing through. He of course knew of this fact,but he didn't mind listening to her rambling about them. He'd listen with a small smile plastered to his face the entire time.

"So, you're an alchemist..but what's with all those bandages?" He asked this time after seeing her wrist wrapped in one.

"Oh, it's just some accidents on the lab and some scars i got from foraging for materials." She said,a nervous laugh followed after.

He felt a slight pain in his chest at the thought of her getting hurt. Even back then she would sometimes ger her knee scratched or fell down and trip every now and then. 'Still as fragile as ever', He said to himself. He told her more about what he saw during his travel across the land,but sometimes he noticed that she's blankly starring at him,

"Hey,Y/N. What's wrong?" He asked.

No response.

"Hello? Teyvat to Y/N?" He called again.

That seems to get her out of her little world,she shook her head a bit, regaining focus,"o-oh,what is it?"

"You've starring at me for quite a while now. Were you charmed by my good looks,perhaps?" He said teasingly.

"Wha- no! That's not it." She stuttered back,her hands up in denial and face blushing a deep shade of red.

"It's just...i feel like i know you well before meeting you here."

"I feel like i've known you for a long time."

This time Venti was the one not responding to her words. If he wasn't sure,he sure as heck is now believing she was the same Y/N he knew and loved. Perhaps she didn't have the memory her past self had,but that didn't matter to him,he was overjoyed at this point.

"Well, maybe you've seen me perform before and just didn't remember." He said, looking away and hiding a soft smile.

"Or maybe you've known me from way before." He whispered under his breath.

"Hm? Did you say something?"

"No,i was just thinking about putting on a show tomorrow in front of the statue for others to hear yet another heroic tale." He smiled at her.

"I hope you would come and watch me sing,dear Y/N."

"I won't miss it for the world." She smiled back,chuckling.

His eyes soften as he grabbed her hand which surprised her at first. He leaned in and kissed her lips,earning a gasp in response and a blush as well. He stood up as his smile curved into a grin.

"Then i shall look forward to tomorrow." He said putting the windwheel aster over her ear.

Venti bid farewell and without waiting for a response took his leave while she was still shocked,trying his best not to blush in front of Y/N. When he got far enough he just crouch down and mumbled something incomprehensible to himself. It was bold of him to do something like that in the first place, especially when they just met earlier today. Sure he knew her from like 2600 years ago but she had no recollection of him.

Still,somehow she was once again here before him. He'll protect her and made sure she's safe. He will never let anything bad happen to her. It will take some time for them to get to know each other all over again,but he didn't really mind.

He's really looking forward to her coming to see him perform tomorrow.

Y/N on the other hand was still recovering from the entire information overload. Face still a bit red from the entire oreal. From afar she could hear Aether and Paimon calling out to her. "Heeeyy! We got that nectar you waanted!" "Oh,t-thanks." She pulled herself out of her own little world to take the materials she asked for and paid them for their works. But just as soon as they left looking for the bard,she once again was lost in her own thoughts.

They just met today,but it felt like she had known him forever. Some of his 'old' tales felt all to familiar. And she was beyon surprised when he suddenly kissed her.

But somehow she didn't mind.

The sense of familiarity she had when talking to him put her at ease,and she felt like there's nothing to worry about. She felt safe when she's with him. And a part of her couldn't help but want to know him better.

She put a finger over her lips, still not reall over the fact that he kissed her so suddenly,then to brushing against the flower he put on her. But she smiled, thinking that he's way bolder than he looks.

She can't wait to come and watch him sing tomorrow.

#genshin impact #genshin impact fics #venti x reader #venti #the drunk bard #neko writes #hey may be a god #but he's not used to romantic relationship #i know ironic considering he sings songs about love a lot #probably

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buckyjustbelikethat · 4 years ago

Text

The Fiction of Fairytales: Chapter One

Title: The Fiction of Fairytales: Chapter One

Characters: Stucky x Reader

Summary: (a/b/o au that is non-cannon compliant) After being captured and forced to live as Brock Rumlow’s mate for years you are kidnapped by the Avengers. They plan to interrogate you for information on Hydra and Rumlow, but after Steve and Bucky realize they are your true mates, they realize that their kidnapping was more of an unexpected rescue.

Warnings: Mentions of assault, kidnapping, death, and abuse, and strong language.

Word Count: approx. 3000

A/N: Hello lovelies! 💕 I’m so sorry for the late update. Life has been really crazy both personally and globally. I hope the longer chapter makes up for the wait. Let me know if you want to be tagged or if you have any suggestions or comments!

Previous Chapter

You followed his instructions until they reached the tower. As you were driving you had the urge to cry passing by the buildings and civilization you had been kept from for so long. But the freedom was a placebo, a momentary feeling that reality is plotting to destroy. You knew you were trading one cage for another. One where you were trapped with a murderer and one when you are considered one. Tony Stark fought for good, and he proved that Brock had turned you into something only recognizable as bad.

They arrived at the tower and the moment you placed the car in park your hands were put into high tech handcuffs. Stark’s hand firmly gripped your arm, and though it was not soft, you breathed a sigh of relief when it felt nothing like the force of Brock’s hands. Stark led you to an elevator that seemed detached from the main part of the building. You hoped he didn’t feel the slight tremble of your body. You were used to the danger of being a captive of Brock, but here, you didn’t know what to expect. The floor you arrived at looked like a police station. There were containment rooms and what looked like interrogation rooms. There weren’t many others on the floor, but the guards scattered throughout looked at you in disgust as you entered. You knew that you did not participate in any of the violence hydra had committed, but being looked at as if you did made you feel dirty.

Stark led you into one of the interrogation rooms, and sat you down on an uncomfortable metal chair. He sat opposite of you and placed his feet on the table between you.

“So, are you also a mass murderer or do you just have a fetish for murders in cults?”

His question reminded you once again that he did not save you, you were considered his enemy. You didn’t know the use in arguing with him, you were unsure if they would ever really believe you, and whether the reality of the circumstance would really save you, or if you were considered damned.

“I’ve never killed anyone.” You stated with as much confidence in your voice as you could muster.

“A girl like you bonded with an evil person like that has to get her hands dirty a little once and awhile.”

You met his statement with silence. Staring at the metal table and wishing all of this would be over. When he realized you were not going to respond to his previous statement he placed photos down in front of you.

“Do you recognize any of these men?”

Your body involuntarily shivered as you had looked at the faces of men who had taken part in your torture. You recognized Pierce first, and other Hydra members that had brought you so much trauma.

“Yes.”

“Are they all still alive?”

“I don’t know.” It was your honest answer but it made you feel hopeless. Stark wasn’t going to trust you if you couldn’t tell him anything useful. You hadn’t seen a lot of them in a while, but you would never be informed of those kinds of details.

“So you’re telling me you recognize all these men and we are supposed to believe that you know nothing about hydra?” You didn’t have to look at his face to recognize the skepticism in his words.

As Steve and Bucky were walking into the interrogation room they were hit both with the most intoxicating smell, it smelled like warmth, like vanilla and caramel, and it reminded them of the cookies Steve’s mom used to make them when they were younger. Underneath the overwhelming scent was the unmistakable wave of distress. At first they didn’t understand where the scent could be coming from, or who. It didn’t take long for them to narrow down the fact that there was likely no one else nearby besides the Hydra member, who was also Brock’s omega, that Tony just brought in. They glanced at each other in apprehension before entering. They knew that whatever they were walking into it was not the happy meeting of their omega they had dreamed of, but their instincts were screaming at them to open the door.

Steve couldn’t ignore the protectiveness he was feeling towards Bucky in the moment. Whoever this omega was, they were somehow involved with the same people that had hurt Bucky. He was ignoring the protectiveness he felt towards the omega he had not even met yet, as far as he was concerned they did not deserve his protection, Bucky was his priority right now.

“Stark, Captain America and Sergeant Barnes request access to the room to aid interrogation.”

“Let them in, Friday.” Stark responds with a sigh, obviously frustrated he got nowhere on his own.

As the two men entered the room your heart stopped. Their scents felt like home. The dark haired man smelled like freshly brewed coffee, and the blonde haired man smelled like ginger and licorice. You knew without a question these two beautiful men in front of you were your alphas, your true mates. After your mind cleared from the fog that their presence brought you immediately diverted your eyes, cursing yourself for forgetting your position, if Brock was here he would have punished you for looking at an alpha, even if they are his enemy.

Bucky felt consumed by you. You were more beautiful than he ever could have pictured. He was hyper analyzing every frown, every tremor that your body was making, the way that you diverted your eyes from them. The distress and feeling of hopelessness that surrounded you suffocated him. He just hoped your emotions were not fueled by you missing your mate. Though he didn’t like the alternative. He could not win in this situation, and underneath his calculated demeanor, Steve could also feel the feeling of hopelessness Bucky tried to bury, he could not hide his emotions from his mate.

“We have reason to believe they are trying to capture and reactivate the winter soldier, what are their plans?” Stark spoke completely unaware of what was going on.

“The winter soldier?” You were thankful to be snapped back to the reality of the moment, but his questions once again made you feel useless.

“Me.” The dark haired man replied, or Sergeant Barnes as the AI called him.

Your face fell. Though you didn’t know whether to trust your true mates or not, you knew you had very little chance of gaining their love. Not only did you bond with someone else, but they were someone that obviously hurt one of them, and might be actively planning to do so again. You would be pissed if fate gave you you as well.It seemed fate cursed them and is turned your life into a farce.

“I don’t know.” You sounded like a broken record, and you knew with each repetition there will be dire consequences.

“How convenient, it seems you know nothing.”

“I’m sorry, I promise I’m telling the truth.”

Steve’s composure fell, he no longer could quiet his rage.

“Bullshit! What kind of sick joke is this? We are mated to an omega not only bonded with hydra, but obviously she has blatant allegiance to them as well.”

“Mate?” Stark questioned in shock.

“Steve...” Bucky interjected, still not as convinced as his mate was that you were lying and trying to get him to relax.

“No Buck! You deserve so much better than her, than this. And not only does she not have the decency to wait for her true mates, but she mates with a member of Hydra, and is actively covering for an evil organization.” Steve said, looking into Bucky’s eyes while ignoring Stark’s question.

“She’s your true mate?” Tony tried again.

“No.” Steve said, though the message behind his words was heard loud and clear by everyone in the room. He was rejecting her.

You felt like you couldn’t breath. You knew what was going to happen, but God, you didn’t know how you could live with it. You knew his words were the truth, he didn’t even know the full extent of how broken you were and he could already tell you would never measure up.

“I’m sorry.” You tried to show your honesty behind your words, but your voice was weak. You did not understand why you were mated either, but you knew they were good people, they were alpha’s sure, and there are parts of that that scare you, but you know that if you had met them before ever meeting Brock, they would be everything you had ever dreamed of. Your eyes remained diverted, but you could tell just from his voice, his love for Bucky. You felt like it was ripping you in two, all you had ever wanted was a fraction of that love, but the universe deemed you unworthy, adding validity to all of Brock’s claims.

While Steve was filled with protectiveness, Bucky wasn’t so sure of what to make of everything. The ways your eyes never met their own, the pain and fear he could detect though you tried to hide it, and the apology only filled him with questions. Your behavior reminded him of his own when he first got out of Hydra, part of him hoped this wasn’t the case. He would rather be mated to evil, than to be mated to someone that had to withstand the kind of pain he had to.

“What is it exactly you are sorry for?” Bucky asks, his voice still cool, but not laced with the anger Steve’s words were entangled with.

“For being mated with someone else…” you cut yourself off there, not sure if you should list all the reasons why you were sorry you ended up their mate. “And for not being able to help you all with the information you want.”

“Not being able to and not willing to are two different things.” He replied.

“I.. I know. I promise you if I knew I would help you. I understand you don’t like me or trust me. I would feel the same considering who Brock is, but please believe that more than anyone, I don’t want him to be able to hurt anyone ever again.”

“Then how the hell can you justify being with him? For not waiting for your true mates, for him?” Steve almost yells as he tries to keep his cool. He was hurt but he was masking it with anger. Bucky reaches out his hand and lays it on Steve’s shoulder, he gives him a look that pleads for his silence.

Bucky could see the tears pooling in your eyes as you fought them away, and his fear that his suspicions might be true was nagging at his mind.

“How long have you been with Brock?”

This was something that you had fought over the years to know the answer to. You weren’t sure of time when he first took you, the days blended together, but once he started giving you more freedom you decided to keep track of how long it had been.

“Eight years.” you said.

“Okay.” Bucky said, his voice calming. “We have no records of you before Hydra, so can you tell us how old you are?”

“25.” Your voice was still breathy and quiet, unsure his intentions behind his questions.

The fear nagging at Bucky became more pronounced when he learned that you weren’t even of age when you got together.

“How did you meet?”

He watched you as your body froze, panic entered your eyes and your breath became shorter. As you shrunk into your chair you winced at the metal pushing against your bruised body.

Steve started to sense the reasoning behind Bucky’s questions, especially when he saw your reaction. Things started to make sense to Tony too, especially when knowing how little you went out, and the way you looked for the cameras. He suspected you feared him and tried to find safety in knowing that Brock could see you in the surveillance footage, but now he was starting to think your fear was more of the cameras than him.

You didn’t know what to do, he asked about one of the worst days of your life, and you feared they would be disgusted by you if he understood. You saw Bucky move closer to you in an attempt to calm you down, his alpha instincts telling him to soothe the anxiety of his omega. But the closer he got to you the more you shrunk away from him. Trying to hide within the cold metal of your chair, as your pain became more pronounced.

“Hey, it’s okay, we want to help you, but we can’t do that if you don’t talk to us.”

His words calmed you and you cursed that he was able to have an effect on you. He knelt down beside your chair, trying to get a better view of your eyes, despite you doing everything in your power to hide your face behind your hair. You decided to rip the bandaid off, maybe if they understood then they would realize you were no use to them, and then maybe you could let you die on your own terms. You knew there was no other alternative. Brock would always find you, and you had no way of defending yourself, and you would not let yourself become a burden to them as an unwanted mate. You wouldn’t force them to deal with that, it would be wrong of you.

“He killed my parents and he was supposed to kill me too, but he took me as his mate instead.”

“He forced you to bond with him?” He was trying to suppress the rage overwhelming his body, he did not want to scare you away. Steve was still at a distance, now battling his own guilt from what he said to you.

“Yes, I promise, I meant nothing to him, I was just a body, everyone in Hydra viewed me the same. I promise they never discussed any information with me around, and if they did I would tell you, please believe me.” You spoke through your own tears.

“We believe you.” Tony spoke, laced with the same guilt Steve feels.

“Thank you... But they will find me, and what they will do to me is worse than death, I can’t go back, and I won’t be a burden to you, you both deserve to find an omega who is good enough. So please, I’m begging you to kill me.”

Steve and Bucky both started to growl. Unhappy with the words they are hearing from their omega.

“No!” Steve and Bucky both blurted out.

Your whole body was shaking, and it got worse knowing they wouldn’t allow you the kindness of a quick death. “Please, I know you don’t owe me anything but please. I can’t go back. Please.”

Bucky’s hand reached out to calm you, but he immediately realized it was a bad idea when you flinched away. Your face contorted in pain once again and Steve and Bucky wished more than anything that they could fix everything for you right then and there, no matter the cost. Bucky resigned his hand to himself, but Steve came up and knelt beside Bucky.

“No one is going to hurt you again. I promise you. We will protect you sweetheart. I’m so sorry we thought you were Hydra.” Steve spoke to you. His voice soft, and laced with pain for his mate.

“We are your Alpha’s and we will protect you.” Bucky said firmly, assuring you that they weren’t going anywhere despite what Steve had said earlier.

You calmed yourself enough to reply to their assertions.

“You don’t have to protect me,” you wiped your tears from your face with your still handcuffed hands. “I’ll be fine. Please, like you said earlier, you deserve better, and I understand that.”

“No, no. That is not true.” Steve said distressed at what his omega was saying to him.

“Honey, I was a captive of Hydra for years, they made me do horrible things, I understand what they are capable of, but that is not a reflection on you. Did you want to be there?”

“No.” You sniffled.

“Do you agree with the horrible things that they do?”

“No!” You stated, trying to convince them.

“Then there is nothing that could change our mind.”

You still felt unconvinced but Steve didn’t give you much time to reject what Bucky said.

“Are you hurt?” Steve asked, assessing as much of your body as he could.

You nodded. “I’ll be fine though, Brock wasn’t happy with me this morning.”

You could see Bucky and Steve’s body both tense up at your words.

“What happened?”

“It was my fault, I looked up at him.”

Both men started growling again, even Tony joined in already becoming protective over his teammates and friends’ omega.

“You did nothing wrong, sweetheart.” Bucky spoke to you.

“But I’m an omega.. and I shouldn’t have done that.”

Bucky wished he reached out and guided your chin up so you could look him in his eyes, but he was afraid of scaring you even more.

“Doesn’t matter if you are an omega, doll. You are not lesser than other people, especially not him.” Bucky said his voice caring.

“Can we take you to the medical wing to get you checked out?” Steve asked.

“S-sure.” You replied, still not knowing if you could trust them and their words, but the fantasy of their words of love was too enticing. You decided that even if this didn’t last, it was worth it to escape, even for just a moment, in fiction.

Next Chapter

Tags (open): @snakesonastarship @thanossucks @yomama-umbridge @grandluminaryearthquake @laughsandlivia @bloo-moon-freak @this-is-a-chilis-drive-thru @sergeantrosabellaswan

#stucky x reader #alpha stucky x reader #stucky #alpha bucky barnes #alpha steve rogers #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader

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j-morgan-fly · 4 years ago

Text

The Mockingbird has his way

So, this is a little something I have been working on. It's not full blown nor do I feel it ready to post on AO3, but I wanted to get it out there. I just wanted to write something where the Lords get called out, even if it's by manipulative Baelish, for abandoning and overlooking Sansa's claim and the role she played in ridding the North of the Bolton's.

___

“House Mormont remembers. The North remembers. We know no King, but the king in the North whose name is Stark,” the young Lady Mormont’s words held the power of her loyalty and conviction. She shamed the seasoned and weathered men, old and young, around her. A girl of eleven standing before them, speaking out for herself and her people with far more honor then any of them. It made Sansa smile for Lyanna Mormont reminded her terribly of Arya and she wished her sister were with them, prayed to the Old Gods she was alive somewhere out there and once news reached her about the Starks occupying Winterfell once more she might find her way safely home. She also smiled because she was happy for Jon.

She took his hand under the table, giving it a squeeze. He glanced at her, and her smile grew a little more. She was proud of him and she wanted him to know it. That he deserved these words of ankowledgment from their people. She was happy that despite his reservations in the beginning about taking back their home, he had fought with her, for their family and people and proved himself beyond a shadow of a doubt their fathers son. Bastard or no, Jon was a Stark to her, and now their lords were starting to see him the same way. As they should.

She could feel it in the air, soon, just in a moment they would rise and name him king. She had made sure of. When she realized Petyr’s plans, when he admitted his pretty dream to her under the Heart Tree, she knew what his scheme was and she had to put a stop to it.

She went to as many lords as she could before this great meeting, campaigning for Jon’s claim over her own. She was a woman after all, twice married to enemies of her family and she had seen already what they thought of her when she went to their keeps with Jon. It would not be a difficult thing for any of them to choose Jon over her when given the choice.

“Queen, you mean,” Sansa felt her throat get tight, her smile fell and she as well as the other lords turned to look at Little Finger. He stepped forward from where he stood in a shadow on the wall.

“The queen in the North whose name is Stark. Lady Sansa, who sits beside her bastard brother, is the rightful heir to the Northern Throne and Winterfell.”

The Knights of the Vale gave grunts of agreement and Lady Mormont's already naturally sour expression turned more so, her lips pressing into a thin line and her eyes narrowing on the Mockingbird as he spoke. “I and the Knights of the Vale rode North at the command of Lady Sansa’s cousin, Lord Robert Arryn, to fight and reclaim his cousin's childhood home and her birthright in her name. Not for Jon Snow.”

Sansa swallowed as Jon looked at her, questions in his eyes. She could see the accusation in his dark grey eyes. Was this her plan? Was this why she begged him to fight again? Why she kept him from going somewhere warm and peaceful? To help make her queen?

She shook her head. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t what she wanted at all. She had assumed Little Finger would act as a puppeteer, using bribed and convinced Northern Lords to speak up on her behalf, but ultimately they would be outnumbered by those who would see Jon as King. Little Finger was not a man to fight and argue his own battles, so he must feel truly desperate if he was speaking out for her.

“Unless, did King Robb change the laws of succession in the North before his tragic death?” he asked the lords in a whole. “Did King Robb send some document back North, signed by his hand, or is there a witness here to such a letter having ever been made by him before his death removing or displacing Lady Sansa from the succession of Winterfell and putting her claim below that of Jon Snow?”

They murmured to one another, discussing it briefly if any who had fought with her brother, who had managed to come home had seen or heard him plan such a thing in regards to succession should he fall. From there frowns it seemed the answer was no. All of Robb’s closest friends and advisors who might have been witness to such a document being made or at least planned, had died. Murdered with their King at the Twins.

“Not one of you can confirm from your time fighting with your king if he ever planned to disinherit or displace his sister, Lady Sansa, from the line of succession?” Little Finger asked, smirking. “Even after she was forced to marry the Imp?”

Sansa thought for a moment this was perfect, he made a mistake reminding them of her first marriage. It would put her loyalties into question, make the lords unsure of her just like how Lyanna Mormont questioned her when she came with Jon, asking for house Mormont to raise their banners and fight for the Starks once more. It had been humiliating and biting, she hated that her loyalty was in question, that she was seen as anything but the Stark that she was. But she didn’t want to be queen, she just wanted to go home, to free it from the monsters that lurked it’s halls and to feel safe again with her family.

In truth, she had not had detailed plan for the long run when she chose to continue pursuing Winterfell’s reclamation into Stark hands again. What she did know was that she would never bow to the Lannister's or anyone who wasn’t family again, but that did not mean she wished to be queen. She would have seen first what the lords desired and go from there. But she would not marry again. She knew at least Jon would support her in that.

If the Lords wanted freedom, then she would support them. She had lost too much family for their freedom, and she had bled as much as any man in battle since the start of the war. Since they took her fathers head and she would not let the pain and loss be for nothing. If they didn’t succeed in claiming Northern independence for themselves, then what was the point in any of it. Every loss would feel suddenly hollow, without meaning, pointless and she could not go on if that was the case. So she had to hold on to this, to the thing that so many had gave their lives fighting for, the reason she had beaten and sold. If she let go she would fall and never stop. So she would grip on tight, and she would keep fighting the battles to come the only way she knew how.

If the lords cried out for independence like she thought they might, then Jon could rule. He could marry despite the strange way the thought made her stomach clench, legitimize himself and produce heirs for house Stark and she would be a loyal sister, an advisor, helping him maneuver and defeat Cersei and someday Little Finger.

She would help rebuild Winterfell, manage it why he ruled, and one day, maybe she would heal enough to marry, to find a nice, simple man and settle down. Let herself have some peace and happiness. But first their was so much work to be done. And she could get more done as anything but a queen.

“As you say, my Lord, Lady Sansa was wed to the Imp. How can we trust that he did not corrupt her? And it is said she is the one who killed the bastard king at his own wedding.” the young Lord Cerwyn stood again to speak.

“And if she did, would you not commend her and say that she helped avenge her family, her brother and mother, the death of her beloved father, your Lord Eddard that Joffrey beheaded?” Little Finger asked.

“If you are questioning her loyalty to the Lannister’s then I think the example you have given is the answer. If she did murder Joffrey and then framed her Lannister husband than she most certainly is not loyal to them,”

“And what of Ramsay Bolton?” asked Lady Mormont, her scowl turning on Sansa.

She watched as Jon glared at Little Finger, having told him how she had come to be in the Bolton’s possession during her time as a refugee at the wall. The mockingbirds shoulders fell and he looked at Sansa with pained regret.

“That was my doing,” he admitted and the Lords in the room. “I was dear, childhood friend to Lady Sansa’s mother. I wanted to bring Cat’s daughter home. Support her claim as she would have if she had survived the Red Wedding.”

He shook his head and cast an accusing eye over the Northern Lords.

“I had hoped that I might help Sansa with a coup against the Bolton's. They thought I was an ally, but I was simply using them to help place Sansa back in her houses seat of power.” he begin to explain the plan, a plan Sansa had no knowledge of until now. “It was my belief that Northerners were more loyal then the rest of the men of Westeros and would come to Lady Sansa’s aide while I gathered allies in the Vale and Riverland's to take back and hold the North from the Bolton’s and Lannister's.”

He sighed then, the room falling silent, some with suspicion and others with guilt.

“Instead, our brave lady was let down by her own people and had to rescue herself with the help of a turn cloak. If only I had known the disrespectful disregard you would show the daughter of your liege lord I would never have brought Lady Sansa back North,”

No man or women in the room had a very good response, all mostly falling back on the excuse of how they believed Sansa’s loyalties to be with the Lannister’s, and that her marriage to one of their allies was her attempt to save her own neck after killing Joffrey in a jealous rage after being put aside for another woman. It hurt Sansa but she did not show it. She was steal cloaked in ice, her expression one of indifference rather than the pain she felt at her peoples words.

“I have heard enough!” Jon stood from his chair, the legs scraping the stone floor loudly. “How dare all of you question Sansa’s loyalty, while you sat in your castles with full knowledge of what Ramsay was capable of and what he had done to girls before her. Where was your loyalty to house Stark then?”

They grumbled but had no answer to give, heads bowed, some glaring, frustrated to be called out as they were, to be told they were disloyal and dishonorable.

Sansa felt her heart flutter in her chest, growing warm at his defense of her. “My sister was a hostage, a prisoner of the Lannister’s to be used against our brother and the North. I will not let you ignore her and brush her aside as I have seen you do up till now any longer.”

“As much as I am honored by what Lady Lyanna was suggesting, Winterfell belongs to my sister Sansa. She is the one who wanted to fight for Winterfell when I wanted to runaway, go somewhere warm, far from winter and wars. She is a true Northerner and she is Robb’s heir, your queen in the North.”

Sansa wanted to scream. No. No, she didn’t want this.

She looked imploringly at Jon, but he took her expression for something else, smiling at her.

Stop, you fool, you have no idea what your doing. Your playing right into his hands. This is what he wants.

He took her hand and guided her to a stand beside him, his hand slipping to grasp her risk and holding her arm above her head.

“The Queen in the North!” he announced to the whole room and Sansa felt her heart stop when she met Little Fingers eye.

“The Queen in the North,” he repeated, lowering to one knee for her. The lords looked at one another before slowly men rose, unsheathing their swords and raising them in the air, repeating her new title until the whole room was chanting it.

Sansa closed her eyes and a tear slipped down her cheek.

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