#when she beat up the cat king i was ROOTING for her

[arggghhhsstuff]

esther finch <3 she's a witch she's evil and she looks good doing it

[zeciex]

A Vow of Blood

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: “You will be trapped by the obligations of love and duty, unable to escape the web of expectations others have woven around you," the witch said....

Daenera Velaryon returns to King's Landing with the intention of bolstering her mother's position and reminding both the Greens and nobility that Rhaenyra is the rightful heir to the throne. She has a specific goal in mind: to be a constant source of annoyance to the Greens and is willing to play the political game without hesitation.

However, what catches her off guard is the way Aemond gazes at her and seems to relish in her suffering. He openly expresses his desire to bring about her downfall, her ruination.

This situation leads to a tense game of cat and mouse, with each move escalating the already high stakes. Will their precarious situation crumble as the dragons soar above, or will fate intervene?

After all, love often demands the sacrifice of duty, just as duty can sometimes lead to the demise of love.

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X OC, HOTD characters.

Chapter 2: Fireflies and Funerals

AO3 - Masterlist

Daenera was standing alongside the King and Lord Lyonel Strong on the parapet, watching her brothers train. She should be having lessons in embroidery at the moment, but she had snuck off to entertain herself with something less… boring. What use was embroidery to a princess when she had servants and dressmakers to do that for her? Some of the things she was taught didn’t make much sense to her. 

She was standing on her tiptoes, resting her forearms on the wall to look out beneath them to the tiltyard, the straw men getting a good and proper beating with wooden swords. Ser Criston Cole was walking back and forth, keeping an eye on their form and giving corrections. 

Aemond had been in a foul mood since the pink dread incident and it was clear that he wouldn’t be getting over it any time soon. Every time he could get in the way, he did, often knocking into her brother's shoulder or knocking the sword out of his hand. 

“This is the stuff, Lyonel,” Viserys chuckled, Daenera glanced back at her grandsire with a confused scowl on her face. “The lads that learn together, train together… knock each other down, pick each other up. They would certainly form a lifelong bond, wouldn’t you agree?”

“That is the hope, your grace,” Lyonel answered amiably.   

“Doesn’t seem like there’s a lot of ‘picking each other up’,” Daenera noted, eyes going back to the training in front of her. Aemond knocked the sword out of Jace’s hand, glowering at him. She was of half mind to pick it up herself and smack him over the head with it. 

“Brotherly squabbles,” Viserys dismissed with a wave of his hand. “Daemon and I had plenty of them growing up.”

“Did you not exile him multiple times?” Daenera asked innocently. She was aware of Daemon’s reputation, and had heard stories about him and the trouble he had brought to court. Not many people had good things to say about him. Lord Lyonel masked his chuckle with a cough, Viserys did not. He patted the girl on the back, laughing at her quick tongue. 

“That I did,” Viserys said. “And we always made up in the end.”

“Is it not odd that, Ser Crison seems to favor Aegon and Aemond?” Daenera asked, having noted the clear divide. Aegon and Aemond got more directions, more patience and corrections, while he ignored Jace and Luke, letting their bad habits flourish. 

Aemond and Aegon stood alone against Ser Criston. Aegon was an impatient fighter and rushed into things, while Aemond hesitated, not ready to stand up to a real knight. Ser Criston took the two in strides, easily avoiding their advances and the wooden swords, with his hand behind his back. For once she rooted for Ser Criston, finding great amusement in his dismissive way of handling Aegon. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Daenera caught a glimpse of Ser Harwin approaching her brothers, voice a low guidance. Ser Ciston was less than happy with the interference, glaring at the Commander of the City Watch. 

“It seems the younger boys could do better with a bit of your attention, Ser Criston,” Ser Harwin stated. If looks could kill, Ser Harwin would drop dead on the spot. 

“You question my method of instruction, Ser?” Ser Criston responded. 

Daenera narrowed her eyes at him. 

“Oh, I merely suggest that method should be applied to all your pupils.” Ser Criston didn’t take the criticism lightly, bothered by more than just his words it would seem. The boys had all lined up, and Aegon pushed Luke away from him, Luke grinning. 

“Very well,” Ser Criston agreed coldly. His sharp, dark eyes fell on Jace and Daenera felt her heart sink. “Jacaerys, come here.”

Ser Crison walked forward gripping Jace’s breastplate roughly, tugging him with enough force to snap the young prince's head back. Jace could barely keep up, moved around like a ragdoll. “You spar with Aegon.”

Aegon and Aemond laughed wickedly.

“That is not fair,” Daenera whispered to herself. 

“Eldest son against eldest son.” 

Jace looked scared. Daenera looked back at her grandsire and the Lord Hand. They both looked apprehensive. She turned her eyes back on the tiltyard, pushing herself up a bit more on the stone railing, hands gripping the edge. 

“It’s hardly a fair match.”

“I know you’ve never seen true battle, Ser, but when steel is drawn a fair match isn’t something anyone should expect,” Ser Christon cut Ser Harwin off. Aegon patted Jace on the back as he passed, his much taller form a weapon on its own. Jace gripped the wooden sword anxiously. 

“Blades up.” 

Both hitched up their blades. Jace looked nervously at his teacher, a plea in his eyes, not at all ready to engage with someone bigger, stronger and more experienced than himself. Aegon reveled in it. Loved to humiliate and hurt. The moment Ser Criston gave the go ahead, Aegon sneered and attacked. Jace tried his best to protect himself, not even bothering to try and attack. He was pressed back, fearing the blow and sting of the wood. Aegon pushed Jace over, the boy landing roughly on his shoulder. By then Daenera’s feet were no longer on the ground, but scraping against the wall she was hitching herself up on.

Aegon laughed and turned his back on Jace. ‘Never turn your back on your opponent’ Daenera could almost hear Ser Harwins voice in her head and it would seem that Jace heard it too, for he got up and ran towards Aegon, swinging his sword. Aegon was surprised by the sudden attack and narrowly avoided the wood. When the strawman was used as a shield and tossed towards Jace, Ser Harwin called foul play and the match was over, each prince meeting their respective teachers. Daenera couldn’t hear what was said, but she automatically assumed that Ser Crison would advocate for Jace’s humiliation.  

Whatever was said it seemed to anger Aegon. “YOU!”

Aegon pressed the attack and though Jace put up a good fight, he was no match for Aegon’s strength or speed. He was pressed back. And with each blow Ser Criston yelled out an order of attack. ‘Close with him’, ‘press him backwards’, ‘stay on the attack’, ‘use your feet’.

Aegon kicked Jace in the chest, sending the boy sprawling, with little chance to defend himself. Ser Harwin looked on in anger and disbelief that a Kingsguard would pitch children against one another like that, let alone teach them dishonor. 

“Get up, Jace!” Daenera yelled at her brother. 

“Don’t let him get up!” Ser Criston ordered, forcing Aegon to press on. It would end in blood. It didn’t seem Ser Criston would want any less. Jace was totally open now, the sword beaten out of his hand, defenseless. Aegon raised his mock sword above his head, ready to beat it down on Jace when Ser Harwin interfered, gripping the sword and prince both, prying them away from the princeling on his ass. 

“You dare put hands on me?!” Aegon roared in anger. 

“Aegon!” Viserys chided from the parapet, appalled by his son's outburst. Daenera pushed off the wall and back onto solid ground, picking up her dress as she ran down the steps and into the dirt, towards the spectacle. She stopped by Jace, helping him to his feet, though both of their attentions were on Ser Criston and Ser Harwin. 

“You forget yourself, Strong. That is the prince.” 

“This is what you teach, Cole?” Ser Harwin didn’t back down, but he did bend down to pick up the wooden swords that littered the cold ground. “Cruelty? To the weaker opponent.” 

As if to mock Harwin, Cole threw down his own wooden sword right in front of him. It was an insult. Ser Harwin kicked at the sword, not deining to pick it up. Instead he picked up all other swords, the wood seeming like tiny woodpicks to his giant form. 

“Your interest in the princeling’s training is quite unusual, Commander,” Cole taunted. “Most men would only have that kind of devotion toward a cousin… or a brother… or a son.”

What came next no one had expected, least of all Daenera, who yelped surprised when Ser Harwin punched Ser Criston in the face. It was a mistake. A giant, life altering mistake, a split second of weakness, and it wrecked havoc in the tiltyard. One punch came after another. Ser Criston was beaten back, his head snapping, falling over his own feet to the ground the same way Jace had done under his direct advance. Not only had Ser Criston insulted him, he had insulted the princes and the princess, as well as their mother. 

Ser Harwin didn’t let up even as Cole was on the ground defenseless. Blood began to run from the split skin. It took four Kingsguards to pull Harwin off and even then, Ser Harwin tried to press on, fighting against his restraints, yelling at Cole, daring him to speak it again. 

Cole merely laughed through the pain, having lost the battle but won the war. 

Daenera walked over to him and gave him a good kick to the ribs.

 “You insult us and my mother?” She kicked again and Criston groaned, batting her away with a hand, smacking it into her stomach.

 The wind was knocked out of her and she stumbled back, ready to rip his hair out, but was stopped by one of the Kingsguard. Everything after that went in a hurry. Ser Criston Cole was led to the infirmary, while Ser Harwin was released by the Kingsguard only on the pretense that he calmed down. Lord Lyonel motioned to his son with furious eyes and The Hand disappeared towards his tower, his son following after, sending the princess and princes an apologetic look. 

Aegon took the opportunity of being unsupervised to stride over to Daeenra. “How unbecoming of a Commander. One would think he’d have learned restraint. But it seems that in his eyes, honor is something you can pick and choose.”

Daenera was not in the mood for Aegon’s jeering. She just turned to him, brought a fist into his stomach and walked away as Aegon doubled over wheezing. 

Morning had come with such dreary news. Ser Harwin was to leave the City Watch as well as the city. He was going back to Harrenhal. They were still all in their night clothes. Daenera shifted on the settee, pushing herself to her feet, while Ser Harwin knelt down to say goodbye to Luke, the boy oblivious to the blood shared between them. He only knew him as a guardian, a friend. 

“Be good to your mother, lads,” Ser Harwin spoke, his voice not revealing his emotions, though his eyes did. They were sad, heartbroken but firm. He understood his mistake and accepted the consequences. “I’ll visit when I can… But that may be some time.”

Ser Harwin was about to kneel down before Jace, but he spun around and hurried to his mother. Ser Harwin followed. 

“I will return,” Harwin vowed. “I promise.”

Jace nodded. 

Daenera couldn’t hear what he said next, but he leaned down and kissed little Joffrey on his head and then shared a look with Rhaenyra. Anger and confusion bubbled inside of her. Why was he sent away? Because of Ser Criston? Ser Criston deserved what befell him. He deserved every punch. He had insulted Rhaenyra, the Heir to the throne. Why should Ser Harwin be punished for it? 

Harwin had bid his goodbyes and hurried from the room, too afraid to linger, should the longing he felt built until he were unable to move. Daenera and Jace hurried after him, Jace stopping just outside Rhaenyra’s chambers, while the princess continued to follow him all the way out to the stables, her feet meeting stone and then cold, wet ground. 

“You mustn't leave.” Daenera finally found her voice, low and quivering.

“Princess,” Harwin sighed, turning around. There were eyes everywhere, including his father who was already waiting on top of his horse. 

“I fear that if you’ll leave you shall never return,” Daenera spoke. “Remember what the witch said? The fireflies will take your life. If you leave King’s Landing you shall not return.”

Ser Harwin knelt down right in front of her, gripping her by her shoulders. “And remember what I told you about the witch?”

Daenera sniffed, wiped her nose. Tears stung in her eyes, burned in her throat. It felt like she had swallowed a huge marble ball and it had lodged there, hurting her. “Knowing the future is like tying a noose and hanging yourself with it.”

“ We make our futures. We choose our paths. No one can know it all.” His voice was soft and gentle. His eyes were the same. “I do not intend to leave forever, I will return to you.”

“But the fireflies-,”

“Cannot set fires,” Harwin assured her. “They’re insects. Nothing more.” 

“I do not wish for you to go.”

“You must not be afraid. I will come back. I give you my word. So be strong, be proud and protect your mother and brothers with that fierce heart of yours.” 

Blinking through her tears, Daenera nodded, giving a vow of her own. If he were not there to protect them, then she would have to. And she would not let the whispers affect her. She was a Tagaryen, a Velaryon… and a Strong. “I will hold you to it.”

Ser Harwin smiled. “You do that.”

He got up, wishing he could hug his daughter, but instead he climbed onto the horse, feeling his fathers concerned and judgemental eyes on him. They whisked the horses forward, beginning the long ride towards Harrenhal and its shadowy towers. None of them looked back at the girl, who stood as mighty as a small girl could, staring after them until they were out of sight. 

Daenera turned back towards the castle. 

Not long after their arrival at Driftmark, they found themselves standing among the rocks and cliffs, the brisk wind swirling around them. They were all dressed in black, staring at the coffin that had been carved to resemble Laena Velaryon. Word had been sent out about her unfortunate death, arrived on black wings and called them all to the home of the Valeryons. 

Though Daenera didn’t remember much of her fathers sister, she knew that she had been kind and strong, and the loss of her had wrecked her father. It was not that she didn’t understand loss, she did. Ser Harwin had died not a few days prior to the raven's arrival with word from Daemon. But was losing a father, the same as losing a sister? 

She was now standing with her mother and brothers,.Her hand clutched Laenors, trying to give him some comfort. With a glance at her grandparents, Rhaenys and Corlys, she could see the same soul crushing loss she saw in her father. Daenera had missed them dearly and had hoped they’d see each other again under better circumstances, but the gods could be cruel, and the Stranger the cruelest of them all.

No one would speak of what had happened. All she knew was that Laena had been pregnant and now she was dead. 

And then there was Baela and Rhaena, the twin girls, who looked so much like their mother had, standing by their grandparents with a sadness no one could ever make up for. Daenera decided then that she didn’t like funerals but she still envied them, for their ability to mourn publically.  

Vaemond Valeryon gave a sermon in high Valyrian, a rock against the waves of loss. “ We join today at the Seat of the Sea to commit the lady Laena of House Velaryon to the eternal waters, the dominion of the Merling King. Here He will guard her for all the days to come. As she sets to sea for her final voyage, the lady leaves two trueborn daughters on the shore. Though their mother will not return from her voyage. Salt courses through the Valeryon blood .” 

Vaemond turned his eyes on Daenera and her brothers, his gaze hard and unrelenting, with a cold disdain as cutting as a knife. Daenera shifted under his eyes, looking from Vaemond to her mother.

“ Ours runs thick ,” Vaemond continued, his eyes turned on Rhaenyra. “ Ours runs true .”

Daenera felt the cold, clammy grip of panic grab onto her insides, stirring them up into nausea. He was calling them bastards in all but direct words, and it seemed few caught onto it. 

Jace seemed to be one of them, he looked up at his mother as well, shifting. Laenor’s head remained turned to the ground, too caught up in his grief to know of the reverberations Vaemonds words had on the crowd, and the unspoken accusation towards his children and their mother. Even the King turned to them. Daenera wanted to cry, but she bit her tears back.

“ Ours must never thin .”

A chuckle cut through the tension, bringing all eyes onto Daemon, his lips turned up in a humorous smile as if Vaemond had told a funny joke. But it was no joke. And the eyes that had turned to him, were cold and hard and unforgiving. Daemon seemed to be laughing in the face of their grief.

Whatever the reason for his laughter, it had managed to throw Vaemond, and he continued his sermon. “ My gentle niece. May the winds be as strong as your back ,” he threw a handful of salt on the coffin, “ Your seas as calm as your spirit ,” another handful of salt was thrown, “ And your nets as full as your heart .” 

Laenor began to sway and Daenera held onto him a little harder. 

“From the sea we came. To the sea we shall return.”

The coffin slipped beneath the waves, sinking as fast. A small stream of bubbles rose from the lid until there was no air left. They all stood for a moment, watching the waves crash against the rocks in an endless cycle, a battle neither rock nor sea would ever win. And slowly, people began to filter away, filling up the stairs towards one of the balconies where the memorial would be held. 

“Come,” Rhaenyra guided her children, letting the brothers walk in front of her and up the stairs. In the shuffle Daenera lost her grip on Laenor and the moment she turned back to find him, he was gone. Rhaenyra took her daughter's hand and pulled her with her. “Give him some time.” 

“Should he be alone?”

“Sometimes we all need to be alone with our grief,” Rhaenyra told her daughter. 

The funeral and the given memorial was a dreadful affair. No one dared speak too loud, all wrapped in their own cloak of grief, some more taken than others. While Jace comforted their cousins, Daenera headed towards the Lord and Lady of the Hightide. Daenera bowed in respect and looked up at the two, feeling sad on their behalf. 

“I’m sorry for your loss, grandmother and grandfather, truly. I can’t imagine what you’re going through,” Daenera shifted uncomfortably. 

“We thank you, Daenera,” Rhaenys spoke, cupping her supposed granddaughter's cheek, thumb brushing the pale skin. She looked nothing like her father, and yet, both Corlys and Rhaenys adored and loved her as if she was their own blood. It was a thing they didn’t speak about, something not acknowledged, a shame that would stain all involved. So they overlooked the glaring difference. Laenor had raised them as his own after all. 

“Will you excuse me,” Lord Corlys said, his eye caught on Lucerys standing alone, fiddling with an iron horse. 

“Have you seen your father?” Rhaenys asked Daenera, eyes darting around to find her son's face. 

“I think he needed a moment to himself.”

Rhaenys gave her granddaughter a sad smile, patting her on the cheek before heading towards the table with wine and then to her other two granddaughters. Daenera didn’t know what to do with herself. She didn’t feel like she had a claim to the grief as they did, the only grief she had any sort of claim to was that of her true fathers. And that was enough. 

They had gotten word that Ser Harwin and his father had burned to death at Harrenhal, an unfortunate accident that didn’t feel like an accident to Daenera. The witch had warned him that fireflies would end his life, that he’d burn. But there were no fireflies, were there? There was only the fire.

He had been her true father and yet she could not mourn him, she could not sit at his vigil, she could not speak of it, all she could do was light a candle in the sept for him. 

Daenera had had to bury her grief and loss, lock it away inside along with all the things the witch had said. Ser Harwin’s death had been the first, and not long after they heard about Laena. She hoped and prayed it would be the only deaths she’d suffer. 

The question of whether to use her final question haunted her at night, laying in bed, turning the coin from one side to another. Who else will die? How many? How could she prevent it? So many possible questions to ask, none of them able to fully encapsulate the whole future. So she bit her tongue. 

Her eyes caught his, the cool blue of a winter sky. Aemond stared at her and she in turn stared at him. He looked like he wanted to say something, but the words would not form, would not cooperate, and in the end he closed his mouth and averted his gaze. 

She wished anyone would say they were sorry for her loss as well. To acknowledge that she too was suffering, she too was mourning. But no one dared because that would reveal the truth, the wrong doings, the blood.

[bluebellss1]

[SPOILER WARNING FOR THE INVISIBLE LIFE OF ADDIE LARUE]

I really enjoyed the book and thought it was written very well, and I adored Luc and his dynamic with Addie. But I can’t help but be a little bit confused about why the author decided to end the book like that, especially since it’s supposed to be a stand-alone.

You’d think a satisfying end to Addie’s personal arc would be her at peace at being remembered, then taking Luc’s hand and disappearing with him into the night (or something along those lines). But instead, Addie informs us of her new vendetta against him and how she’s going to spend the rest of eternity trying to make him hate her so her soul goes free and the book ends RIGHT THERE. We’re not getting a sequel so why would you end the book with a curveball like that? That’s an entirely new plot-thread that was literally introduced on the last 2 pages.

She says that she’s going to prove that Luc is “incapable of love”, and then 2 sentences later she says that she’s going to “break his heart.” WHICH ONE IS IT, ADDIE? Those statements are contradictory as hell if she thinks he has no heart to break. I think the author made the ending for them unanswered and up-to-interpretation so that readers could interpret it however they wanted but idk, I was kind of rooting for them to find a sort of peace in each other as a couple which doesn’t seem to happen at the end of the book.

The book beats us over the head with the metaphor that Addie’s freckles are a ‘constellation of stars’ across her face. I’ve seen a lot of people complain that the recurring metaphor was meaningless and superficial, but while reading the book I realised that Luc is literal DARKNESS and the NIGHT. His true form is just a yawning, terrifying empty void of black. And Addie is constantly compared to stars and one artist painted a portrait of stars to represent her. This motif is supposed to mean that Addie is the constellation of stars that both foil and complete Luc’s empty, dark night, that she’s the one who brings light to his existence. How am I not supposed to ship Addie x Luc when the book drills the star motif into our heads like that! I refuse to believe that the man who represents the night sky and tells the woman who represents the stars that he loves her didn’t genuinely mean it.

My personal interpretation is that they’ll play some more cat-and-mouse games through the centuries but ultimately will come together one day. I do believe Luc loves Addie, though she believes he doesn’t love her because you have to be willing to let someone go if you love them. Luc’s love may not be pure and selfless, but I do believe it is love.

He’s a dark entity, a monster of the night that is thousands/millions of years old. His love is different and exists with him on a different scale of feeling than that of a normal human. He’s also likely horrifically starved and greedy for true affection. Addie is probably the only true companion he’s had in forever. Remember how angry and defensive he became when she claimed that they were alike and both lonely? And then decades later he concedes that she may have been right. It’s because he’s been in denial about being lonely for his entire existence, but Addie challenges him on that and has him realise that there may be something more to his existence than taking souls.

He tells her that he saw the elephant in Paris and how it reminded him of one of their earliest conversations. Seeing an elephant in Paris would be nothing to an immortal like him, but it shows that Addie has had an effect on him and his outlook in life, given some meaning to a mundane thing that he otherwise would not have cared about. Addie is living in his mind RENT-FREE at this point. Luc also shows compassion for her in many vital moments, like saving her from the war camp and from the streets during the revolution, later on even helping her with smaller things like escaping the ticket inspector.

These acts of kindness do not erase his bad deeds, but they do show him to be a morally grey character who has grown to care for Addie’s wellbeing and safety. It would have been in his best interests to let her get tortured so she’d give up her immortality earlier, but he still saved her. She’s the only being in the world who has seen his true form, she accepts him for who and what he is. She has seen him when he was cruel and when he was merciful, she gave him a name and a face that he has kept as his chosen form for 300 years (HE EVEN USED THAT FORM FOR HENRY’S DEAL!)

You can’t tell me Luc didn’t have any kind of special attachment or affection for Addie. The fact that he answers to the name she gave him, that he has chosen to wear the face of the imaginary lover that Addie carefully sketched and dreamed of over and over in her youth.

Addie accuses him of wearing the face of her imaginary lover because he is trying to manipulate and taunt her (which may have been true at the start), but that doesn’t explain why he would wear it to see Henry too, and the countless other humans he has probably dealt with in the past 300 years. It’s almost like he and Addie both gave and took from each other, that Addie gave him a name, face and human connection—that she took this old god, a void of darkness that swallows souls, and made it care for her enough to make it try to be a man for her.

I know it’s a stand-alone novel but I would love something along the lines of a short spin-off full of snapshots about Addie and Luc post-ending (like How The King of Elfhame Learned to Hate Stories). An epilogue of sorts to tie up loose ends and give us some closure, see what Addie and Luc end up as, to let us see Addie find her peace and be truly happy. I feel like the author tried so hard to make a statement that Addie is a strong independent woman who is still fighting that we didn’t actually get to see her be happy.

Her final moments of the book, where she should be feeling content and at peace about everyone knowing her story, and she should be shown getting ready to move on with her life and leave behind her fixation of being remembered. But it gets tainted by this sudden spike of revenge and malice that ends the story on a negative note and ends up feeling kind of sad tbh.....

[idjitlili]

Lurking in the dark.

Not my gif.

Summary:  Jareth uses a disguise to lurk around you before the Labyrinth like he did with Sarah, as an owl. Until you accidentally wish away your dog.

Warnings:mentions of tight pants. Mentions of feeling lonely.First smut...you’ve been warned, well just oral, and a handjob.

Word count:4325

A/n: low-key based in my home country, ah yes England.

Y/d/n=your dogs name, or change it to cat or fake pet.

Though you weren't 16, like Sarah, being an adult, Jareth felt pulled to you. No, he was not a pervert, times were different.  Maybe it was your love of your dog, maybe it's how lonesome you felt, that dog unknowingly brought hope into your life. Yes you did love your family, but sometimes you just got lonely.

Maybe it was your love of films, you could watch your favourite film a million times, yet feel so invested into watching it again. Maybe it was your stack of books, some you already had ,which were your favourite,but had gotten pocket editions or ones with different covers.

How Jareth had found you, well that was a different question, not him dressing down , changing his hair to place the labyrinth in difference book stores , illegally. Yes, that was how he had found you,when he had done that. Soon he had figured out, you regularly went to the book store, after following you home in his owl form.

This particular day had been most stressful, though the rain was calming, being drenched to the point your underwear were soaked, not like that. Frozen, you just wanted to get to Waterstones before they shut, practically running. Not only wanting to get there but also get home quick too.

Rushing into the store , the door closing behind you, the warm air embracing your freezing body, you just hoped you wouldn't get in trouble for being soaked in here. It wasn't like you were going to wipe your clothes on all the books , ruining them.

Then, of course more problems occurred; you could not for the life of you find a book you desired.  Sighing , you pushed your dripping hair from your face, you could only imagine how bad you looked in that moment.

Yet, you had continued your search, with no luck until a man had cleared his throat from next to you.

His hair clearly blond from his roots, the rest a light red colour almost ginger but not. His eyes bright blue, yet it seemed like he had heterochromia, aswell as larger pupil in his left eye. His cheekbones highly defined, his body skinny, overall the man was very handsome.

Turning to face the man, highly embarrassed by your state. "If you don't mind-" this is when you thought you was going to be asked to leave, your stomach dropped. "-hearing my suggestion." Okay, that still found like he was going to ask you to leave, but his voice wasn't aggressive.  "...okay?" You weren't sure what to say, only letting out a quiet word.

The man had reached up to the shelf above you , pulling down a small red book, so he wasn't kicking you out.  His pale hand gently holding the book in front of you, 'The labyrinth.' You had taken the book from him, to look for a summary , yet there wasn't one, nor a publisher or an author name.

"You take that home,on me, if you don't like bring it back."  

"W-wait, you d-" You didn't know this man, you felt guilty getting it for nothing, but he had interrupted you. "You've had a long day,clearly,  now go get home,y/n"  The man simply placed his hands on his hips waiting, his words followed out like water, turning to go do whatever he was doing.

"W-wait." He had spun around , his eyes looked at you in slight annoyance, hurrying you up. "What's your name?"

"Ziggy." You had looked at you watch at the same time, before looking back at the man- but he was gone. Thus, you left.  Hold on , how did he know your name?

Not spotting the owl, that stood on the lamp post watching you...

You had begun reading the book , as soon as you had gotten out of your soaking clothes , into warm ones. You wondered how Jareth could like a girl with no sense, no you didn't , you thought why she wearing her baby brother hat.

Yet, your dog would not allow you to sit in peace, shoving their toy under the cupboard making you get up and get it otherwise they wouldn't stop crying, or eating all their food and scratching for more. Then, they had knocked your drink everywhere with their toy.

Groaning in annoyance , for the hundredth time. "You know if the Goblin king was real, y/d/n, I'd wish for him to take you for a time out." Of course you handed read that far you didn't know what would really happen to him..

"You know what, I'll just say it, just in case. I wish the goblins would take you away, right now."   A crack of thunder had made you jump out of your skin turning towards it , before turning back hearing scratching on the floor, to see nothing, by this time it's pitch black, only light from a small lamp is seen , your dog is gone.

Suddenly the door crashes open, an owl flies in , before turning into a man. Not that you could see him much. "Uhm, I mean thanks for taking my dog for a time out , but uh thats dognapping, so.." He had only laughed loudly.

From what you you could see his hair was a huge blond mullet, there was glitter everywhere, and those pants...

"What's said is said."

"What the bloody hell does that mean?" That wasn't legal, he had broken into your home and stole your dog.

"I have brought you a gift, it's a crystal, nothing more. but if you turn it this way and look into it, it will show you your dreams. but this is not a gift for an ordinary girl who takes care of the dog.....do you want it? then forget the dog." You had scoffed at him, you could go ebay and get a crystal ball, who was this wannabe Gandalf?

"Sorry, no, I would like my dog." The king, looked disappointed with your answer, did he believe that would really work?

"don't defy me." His voice stern , as he threw a snake at you , but completely missed, coughing out a small laugh, as the man pretended it never happened.

"Y-you're no match for me."

"Stop with all the talk, how can I get y/d/n back?" With that , he had gestured you to come to the window, a huge maze could be seen, well labyrinth, instead of the dark sky. Turning back to Jareth, you realised you were no longer in your room, but outside the labyrinth.

"So, how does this work?"  You could clearly see the man now, known as Jareth , the Goblin king, his eyes seemed very familiar, left pupil bigger than the right.  He had pointed to a 13 hours clock, that had appeared.

"You have 13 hours in which to solve the labyrinth , and reach my castle, before your dog becomes one of us forever, such a pity." And boom he was a gone, not much to work from.

Now finding away into the labyrinth, indeed that seemed easy, of course it wasn't, no entrances , you thought of the only thing you could do... Climb the wall.  By the time you had gotten over , there stood Jareth in the tight pants.

"You know, there was a door. This shall be your only warning." Poof he was gone again, if you continued climbing walls maybe you'd have to compliment his pants. Next time put a bloody door.

Though you had no idea what in gods earth you was doing, you just decided to head straight forward as you could, thus to get to the castle quicker. Not going one away and ending going through the side door out of the labyrinth.

As you could expect, Jareth was not very happy that you were travelling through his labyrinth, like it was your house. In fact, he was angered, so much , that he wanted to pick you up, as if you were a rag doll and dump you to the start. Then again, you’d just go twice as fast through.

So, there sat Jareth on his throne, with your dog upon his lap, his little whip thing in hand. Suit up Jareth, your not Indiana Jones. Staring into the crystal ball, unable to think.

The fact you had gotten passed the sausage dogs without a second thought pushed Jareth over the edge... He had attempted to jump scare you, but of course it had went south. Jareth rarely had anyone not beat the Labyrinth, and honestly you’d think he would’ve improved it.

Jareth hadn’t spoken in your presence, to inform you that he was there, instead he had placed a hand onto your shoulder. What he was not expecting was you to turn around at sonic speed, punching him square in the face.

Stumbling back, him his boots, holding his now bloody nose, he had let out a yelp in surprise. He did not expect that, not at all.

You had reached some sort of lake, with a path down to a small house, when you had punched Jareth anyways.

After you had seen that it was Jareth that you had punched, who else would it be, guilty travelled up your body suffocating you. Almost instantly you had rushed to Jareth, ripping part of the end of your t-shirt, bringing the fabric to his nose. Pulling his bloody hand from his nose, with a harsh grip, since he lead stiff.

Your face was sweating, not only were you scared that he might kill you, but also you had felt bad for him, after the numerous times he had checked up on you. You wondered if he ever spoke to anyone other than the Goblins, you wondered if he could even leave this place without being wished.

Gripping his sharp jaw to move his face, allowing you to make get a better look at the bleeding, keeping the fabric to his nose, soaking all the blood up. You didn’t even know Faes bled.

“J-Jareth, I’m so sorry! You made me jump, I swear I didn’t do it on purp-“ Jareth liked the contact, the anger he felt before had slipped away, your soft fingers upon his skin, your favourite t-shirt now ruined as you had sacrificed it for his nose. Oh, and he knew that was your favourite shirt.

Your pleading e/c eyes staring into his mismatched ones, made both of your hearts beat fast than moments before. It almost made him forget why you were here; but when he did remember his eyes returned harsh. You only felt bad because you were frightened, he knew you’d leave him soon as you had beaten his labyrinth.

Oh how wrong he was.

Pulling away rudely, using his magic to pull a clock out of no where, using his gloved had to skip it forward three hours, smirking. Fake smirking, the quicker this ends the better, he could not bare to fall in love with a silly human girl again, just to be rejected.

Your eyes widened in confusion, your torn end of your t-shirt still in your hand, bloodied. “W-what?” 6 hours left.

Poof Jareth was gone yet again, oh and how he had some plans for you. Stood in brief shock of what had just occurred, trying to forget the tingles that had erupted down your hand, throughout your whole body, like electric shocks. Shaking it off, like you were about to warm up for pe , just like high school. Ew.

You had continued down the path, to the small house, and within minutes you had reached it. Didn’t seem like there was away around, only way was through.

Thankfully, it was unlocked, allowing you straight in. Only for it to slam close behind you, you didn’t think of anything of it, all you could think about in this moment was how your stomach was growling loudly.

The rag now placed into your back pocket, as you searched the tiny kitchen for anything, coming across an overly large strawberry, you didn’t even think before you had devoured it.

In that moment you heard it the door clicked, you had rushed to it testing it, locked, of course. Your feet now suddenly soaking wet , gulping you had looked down the floor covered in soapy water, rising dangerously. Surely he would not kill you?

All the windows now sealed shut, no upstairs , only the chimney , thankfully wide as. You did the only thing you could, your stomach turning, feeling light headed, the water reaching your knees.

You got in it, but the walls were too slippery so you held your breath just as the water got above your shoulders. Swimming up the chimney with the water, not full breast stroke of course, no room for that. The water pressure building at such a speed you ended up flying out the end of the chimney, no idea how that was even possible.

Then everything went black, soon entering a dream world...well no it wasn’t a dream. Now dressed in gown, at a ball, a masquerade, the room almost packed with guests with goblin like masks., all wearing big expensive gowns, or suite like attire. Loud laughter dimmed out by the loud gently music.. what.

Turning every which way, you felt like you were looking for something, just you could not recall what. A skinny man, with a bo dazzled suite, a long blond mullet with stripes of blue to match his suite, a diamond at his next instead of a tie or bow, frilly shirt. He held a similar goblin mask, only when you caught his eye he had pulled it away.

Only you and him without masks, his eyebrows with no ends, h-his strangely familiar eyes , his thin lips, you felt a strong pull towards him.

“There's such a sad love

Deep in your eyes a kind of pale jewel

Open and closed

Within your eyes

I'll place the sky.”

All you could do is stare at him, as the song began, mouth gapped at him, your dress that before felt heavy no felt like nothing, as he began walking towards you, through the people.

“Within your eyes

There's such a fooled heart

Beatin' so fast”

Trying to get passed the strange people, to get him, he simply danced with other people that already had partners, I mean, like pressed up against the partners.

“In search of new dreams

A love that will last

Within your heart

I'll place the moon

Within your heart

As the pain sweeps through.” He didn’t even try to get to you as you chased after him, these strange people suffocating you, getting in your way on purpose.

“Makes no sense for you

Every thrill is gone.” Then he was gone, your eyes searched the room, not seeing him hidden behind a fan behind you, continued your search. As he smirked behind you, oh how he couldn’t stop feeling the way he did about you, he thought it was funny how now you chased him instead of the other way around.

“Wasn't too much fun at all

But I'll be there for you-ou-ou

As the world falls down.” He had continued making his way through the people, in direct view , as you searched still.

“Falling

As the world falls down

Falling

Falling in love.” Squeezing through the people, feeling panicked, you had no idea what was happening, nor why you felt like this for a strange man, shoving pushed the people that circled you.

“I'll paint you mornings of gold

I'll spin you Valentine evenings though we're strangers 'til now.” You had found him, as a fan moved, he stood sandwiched by two woman.

“We're choosing the path

Between the stars

I'll leave my love

Between the stars” Only then did he come towards you,his face should no emotion, you wondered how you had gotten here. Now with a mans hand out waist and the other in his hand as you danced.

“As the pain sweeps through

Makes no sense for you

Every thrill is gone

Wasn't too much fun at all.” You couldn’t remember knowing how to dance, but you and Jareth done turns in sync with all the other dancers, staring deeply into his mismatched pupils.

“But I'll be there for you-ou-ou

As the world falls down

Falling” Jareth-how did you now know his name, now singing along, wow self loving much , who plays their own music. He had every right. Only then, did you feel yourself leaning to his lips.

“As the world falls down

Falling

Falling

As the world falls down.”

Jareth had noticed, leaning towards you as well, you felt your lips connect to his soft ones, as your eyes closed. That’s all it took for your remove your hands from his shoulder and hand bringing them up into his blond hair. Pulling his face towards yours, not allowing yourself to disconnect from him, you both had stopped dance at this point.

His arms now around your waist pulling you both closer together again, one of your hand now cupping his cheek, as you both kissed. Pulling away for a second to breathe, before pressing your lips against his again harshly this time, biting his lip hard, he had almost jumped, letting out a yelp, only then were you able insert your tongue into his mouth.

You both had long forgotten the people that surrounded you both. Jareths grip now tightened, your tongue fighting against his. Only until he had pulled your hair, pulling you from him lips, your eyes slammed shut, your hands now against his clothed chest, as he pressed kisses down your bare neck. A small moan had escaped your mouth, your hand travelling down to his pants. “Can I?” Jareth had looked into your eyes, his other pupil now almost reaching the same size as his other, nodding.

You hand cupping, his manhood, his pulse heightened under your touch, Jareth had groaned loudly, his bulging member against your palm, as Jareths hips had pushed against your hand for friction. Jareth now sucking harshly at your neck, rubbing your hand against him.

You had forgotten about the room full off people;but Jareth had definitely not, he did not want to take you in front of them, at this moment he didn’t care, he had not had pleasure in a very long time. Leaving your neck, Jareth had joined your lips again, biting your already swollen bottom lips, returning to sloppy small kisses, you had wished that Jareth had picked a less poofy dress.

Your hands leaving Jareths body, he had let out a small sigh, he had thought you had remembered, especially when you began to lift the bottom the dress. Only then did you notice the people, wide eye, but they were still dancing, even if they were looking, Jareth touch was intoxicating.

Your calf’s now on show, almost touching Jareth again, how starred down at you confused, as you looked up at him with a small grin, lifting your leg up and over hip. Instantly he had gripped the soft skin under your thigh, your dress now bunched up to your waist, as you wrapped your arms around Jareths neck.

Pressing your clothes core against, his bulging, your core soaking through, jumping up, so that both of your legs were now wrapped tightly against Jareth. Your lips on his, his hands travelling up your legs slowly, all the way to your waist again, wet kisses as your hips began to rock against Jareths stone member. Your stomach turning into knots against him.

Your clit pulsating against him, undoubtedly he could feel it too, your speed quickly increase, pushed Jareth over the edge with a loud groan, you were pressed against the stone floor. Still, you grinned harshly against him, his hands now either side of your head, his only your upper back against the floor.

Looking into his hungry eyes, pleading for him to do something, stopping your hip movements . “J-Jareth, a-are you sure we should do this here? W-with these people?” Jareth had only smirked at you lowering himself to your ear level. “Love, you’ve got nothing to be ashamed about, plus they can only see when I want them too, understand?” Whispering into your ear, that must be why they didn’t even look your way.

“Now, I must ask, do you want this? Definitely?” His face not inches from yours, his eyes searched yours. “Yes, please.” With that Jareth had unwrapped your legs from him, tearing the bottom of the dress, he was a very skinny man, it was a shame ‘twas a lovely dress. Only your underwear covered you bottom half now, your heels now discarded.

Snapping your legs closed in embarrassment, Jareth had lifted your leg by your calf pressed gently pecks all the way up, till he got your thigh, his eyes meeting yours as you sat up on your elbows, you had nodded at him, anyone would’ve been nervous, especially a virgin.

His lips now reattached to your soft skin on your thigh, gently he had pulled your legs apart , your heat had already been dripping from just kissing, but now it was a river. A snap of his fingers and your underwear were gone.

Jareths face now dangerously close, your whole lower parts on show to him, he had grinned up at you, his hot breath on your most sensitive area, sent chills through your core... literally. Jareth had groaned just feeling your thighs shake in his hands, his erection now painfully restricted.

With that he had slid his tongue up your folds one, letting out a gasp, you hadn’t been touched like this ever. He had brought a single figure to plunge into you, swirling it around you for only a second, his other hand now holding your stomach down, from your squirming underneath him. Removing the finger, his eyes locked onto your as he slipped it into his mouth, sucking on it, before pulling his finger out of his mouth with a pop.

His face satisfied with you, whimpering , he had barely touched you, yet you were pooling already, orgasm almost there, “please...” Parting your folds, he had slowly removed eye contact, his tongue now licking you like an icecream cone, your nerves on overdrive, he had plunged his tongue into you, his hand back on your thighs, squeezing as he swirled around in you. Your legs clenching on his head, grinding into his face.

“Jareth!” Considering you were quite shy, with men anyways, the moan of his name, caused Jareth to tighten his grip, tongue from your opening, he rolled your clit gently between his teeth, you hand cried out, your legs thrown over his shoulders, you could feel your orgasm coming. Pulling tightly at his long hair for more, a loud growl had erupted from his mouth, travelling through you, your stomach tightening.

So close to satisfaction, “J-Jareth..” His tongue had attached back onto your clit, bringing his fingers close to you, one of your legs still on his shoulder, the other leg, he had placed against the stone floor, spreading your legs widely, so that he could insert his finger into you. Your back now curved from the floor, adding two more fingers into your wet opening.

Sweat upon your face, like drops of rain water, allowing you a moment to adjust, Jareth had began to his fingers into you, his mouth detached, faster, and faster by the second. Spreading his fingers in you, you couldn’t hang on any longer. Your legs now shaking like hurricane, Jareth knew you was close, your head thrown back, as you finally met your orgasm.

Removing his fingers, as the please hit you like wrecking ball, throughout our lower half, you had let out a loud moan of pleasure. Your hips finally buckled , riding your orgasm in Jareths face. Panting heavily, Jareth had looking up , wiping the remaining of your juices on his palm.

“J-Jareth?” He now laid next to you, how was he still fully clothed? He had hummed in response. “C-can we just start with that for now,” You were worried, that he’d get angry, but instead he had just looked at you with a gently smile. “Of course, love.” Then you noticed, his painfully erected member, bringing your hand to his bulge rubbing him again, groaning in surprise.

“I-I’ve never done anything like this.” Jareth only nodded, as you stroked him through his pants, he wasn’t going to take your virginity not like this. He was a good man- fae sorry, he took all those children from people that didn’t want them. Shouldn’t be thinking about this right now.

Slipping you hand into Jareths pants, you stroked him harshly, rubbing the his tip gently with your thumb when you reached it, before repeating the cycle. Jareths lips upon yours , you could still taste yourself on him. Quickening your pace, soon enough his he had bitten down roughly onto your lip, as he came.

Yet again, you were both laying on the floor, laying your shoulders on his arm, that wrapped around you laying in his chest.

“Can I have my dog back? I mean- if you let me go back, you could come too, o-only if you want to anyways?” You had stuttered out your words , causing Jareth to laugh at you, he had a feeling you still remembered.

“Of course.”

[wolfsneedles]

perhaps a small meta like thing i wanted to write and share on robb. I was thinking about that very haunting and pivotal moment in ASOS, when rickard karstark a loyal man of robb and starks killed the two prisoner/wards kids from lannister family when he realised catelyn released jaime. Catelyn releasing him is different and a very realistically emotional thing but robb acting and defending his mother when rickard says It was Lady Catelyn who was responsible for murder of the two kids....he just slaughtered in sleep and dark of their cells (reeks of bit sexism and misogyny tbh). Not realising however that jaime wasn't gonna get killed anyways that to by rickard or Robb was never gonna let them hurt him. basically so if karstark was avenging his sons...who died in battle with Robb, it is understandable but this was rickard's individualistic revenge - he was fighting for robb too. For North and for Starks and for his KING. i never understood how he killed two children but thats not the concern really. It is how robb reacts to murder of two children by karstark which is so foolish and stupid and honestly cruel considering his revenge was not gonna succeed anyways when jaime had...already escaped (and no omg cat wasn't responsible for karstark betrayal). And then Robb says, "

"I owe their fathers truth," said Robb. "And justice. I owe them that as well." He gazed at his crown, the dark gleam of bronze, the circle of iron swords. "Lord Rickard defied me. Betrayed me. I have no choice but to condemn him.

He made up his mind anyways to execute karstark not for betrayal but also for justice. Poetic Justice maybe...but the entire scene of rickard karstarks execution is very hauntingly beautiful however uneasy and eerie, and you see robb from Cats POV doing something from his own hands himself. The imagery and environmental gloom is perfect. Even weather grrm wrote like, was hauntingly unsettling.

Lord Rickard's fought at my side in half a dozen battles. His sons died for me in the Whispering Wood. Tion Frey and Willem Lannister were my enemies. Yet now I have to kill my dead friends' father for their sakes." He looked at them all. "Will the Lannisters thank me for Lord Rickard's head? Will the Freys?"

He obviously knew, the death of karstark's liege lord will earn him worse betrayals and series of more unfortunate events,, yet he still in despair asks brynden and others, that freys and lannisters will obviously not thank him for this. Infact they repaid him worse.

How then can you call this vengeance? This was folly, and bloody murder. Your sons died honorably on a battlefield, with swords in their hands.”

I wanted to describe the scene which is so poetic. But the fact that there is constant thunder and rain can highlight the fact that it was or can be synonymous to misery and death and...robbs ultimate betrayal when karstarks leave in the night same day. Catelyn described the weather outside as,

"Outside the thunder crashed and boomed, so loud it sounded as if the castle were coming down about their ears. Is this the sound of a kingdom falling? Catelyn wondered"

In the next sentence u see, robb more mature and dauntless when he decides he will execute rickard, "Robb reached down with both hands, lifted the heavy bronze-and-iron crown, and set it back atop his head, and suddenly he was a king again. “Lord Rickard dies.”

(also makes me mention how ppl criticise dany too mostly from the got show, but in books why she kills people, i think....if u put yourself in those historical framework and mentality of medieval society with loyalties and devotion tied to each other whether based on federalism or personal love, betrayal and treachery or going behind a king or queens back doesn't...go unpunished. Treason never goes unpunished when we also think of jon snow executing janos and robb with karstark. You have to realise emotions of both people. the one who carries sentence and one who dies.)

Back to the scenic description i found in this chapter. Catelyn again talks about weather and i absolutely loved contrast bw the weather and grimness of it and an execution soon to be carried in godswood,

"When day broke, grey and chilly, the storm had diminished to a steady, soaking rain, yet even so the godswood was crowded. River lords and northmen, highborn and low, knights and sellswords and stableboys, they stood amongst the trees to see the end of the night’s dark dance."

"Robb flung the poleaxe down in disgust, and turned wordless to the heart tree. He stood shaking with his hands half-clenched and the rain running down his cheeks. Gods forgive him, Catelyn prayed in silence. He is only a boy, and he had no other choice"

I think the rain is perfect thing. the way it is pouring down and then previously it was mentioned how remaining men who took part in killing young boys of lannisters with karstark were hung from trees ...but their faces were darkened and washed and grrm mentions this a lot everytime he mentions a depressing scene with death and ppl hanging from trees esp when lady stoneheart or brothers without banners or brienne and pod encounter people hanged. Its also sooo haunting how karstark was executed in front of heart tree and godswood...by hands of Robb as well (similar to what ned said that man who passes sentence will swing the sword so he knows what he feels too and robb did it last moment too)

" That was the last she saw of her son that day "

This line by catelyn also describes horror of war and how young people like robb in this case are dragged into the lords game of thrones, sometimes half-heartedly sometimes intentionally she describes how war is affecting her son who is after all a boy.

".....rain continued all through the morning, lashing the surface of the rivers and turning the godswood grass into mud and puddles"

This weather is same as it was described and was on the day or eve of when Catelyn and robb along with edmure were making for the Twins and and something more horrific which was about to unfold there as well ( red wedding ) and on their way to twins the rain is mercilessly beating and falling too.

Last i wanna mention is day when robb and his men with Catelyn made for the Twins for wedding and weather was same miserable since last time it was when karstark was executed...which I was thinking DOES point to robbs failure and demise in the end as weather has a lot of impact on story and so does the ice and fire contrast that has always been made where winters and cold winds welcome the coming of darkness and enemy force in this case the Others, and fire reflects passion, warmth and hope for me in passages. prob why i love mention of dany and her dragons because they do represent an entirely different aura and hope against the dread that is building on the Wall and beyond it for coming of the actual-evil-forces the Others.

This is how perfectly the differences bw robbs victory in Whispering wood taken as sign of pride and hope is mentioned with --> emphasis on how warm the weather was, and now their travel to the Twins for red wedding as --> rain, mud, puddle, banks overflowing, their stark banners flooded and hanging down (another excellent indication for how house stark did have their back and strength broken after the wedding hence banner hanging low, or when arya later travels to twins and sees the banners on fire due to the massacre taking place...)

"..As the gods would have it, their route took them through the Whispering Wood where Robb had won his first great victory. They followed the course of the twisting stream on the floor of that pinched narrow valley, much as Jaime Lannister’s men had done that fateful night. It was warmer then, Catelyn remembered, the trees were still green, and the stream did not overflow its banks. Fallen leaves choked the flow now and lay in sodden snarls among the rocks and roots, and the trees that had once hidden Robb’s army had exchanged their green raiment for leaves of dull gold spotted with brown, and a red that reminded her of rust and dry blood"

[discoscoob]

A Second Chance | Loki x Female Reader

Loki (Marvel) x Doctor Who

You and Loki remain stubborn, can Donna convince you to give him a chance?

Part Fifteen | Part Seventeen | Chapter Index

Words: 2.8k

Warnings: none

Read on AO3

“So when can we expect you back?” Val asked Thor, from where they were stood on the edge of the settlement of New Asgard, looking at the sea beyond the cliff side.

“About that...” Thor began before Val cut him off.

“Thor, your people need a king.” She sternly reminded him.

“They already have one.” Thor turned to look at her with sincerity, “and she’s a far better king than I could ever be.”

“Are you serious?” Val could hardly believe her ears, there was no way that Thor had just passed the responsibility of the throne down to her, he must have been joking but his face never wavered.

“It’s time to be who I am, rather than who I’m supposed to be. And a leader is who you are.” Thor told Val before his eyes drifted their focus from her as something behind her captured his attention which caused a crease formed between his brows.

Confused by what had distracted Thor, Val mirrored his expression, before she could even follow his line of sight, she felt a cool breeze caress against the back of her neck, which caused her fine hairs to stand on end.

She looked over her shoulder just in time to see a blue wooden box materialising out of thin air, in the near distance behind her.

“What’s this now?” She asked with a tone that told you she had had her fill of strange occurrences for one lifetime.

Once the box had fully materialised, the narrow door swung open with a squeak, which Thor and Val could hear from where they were both stood, and much to their surprise, Loki stepped out into the sun.

Thor immediately looked as though he had seen a ghost, for all he knew he could have been, but it wasn’t the first time his brother would have come back from apparent death, or the second for that matter. Thor didn’t know whether to pull Loki into a bone crushing hug or to throw Mjolnir at his head in order to check that he was truly there.

As if he were on autopilot, he found his feet carrying him towards his brother. The brothers walked across the grass towards one another, but with each step closer, Thor’s pace quickened, until he was charging towards Loki with a battle cry.

Loki’s feet had firmly rooted to the ground as soon as he realised that Thor intended to crash into him, while his eyes widened and he raised his hands innocently.

“No, brother, listen to me.” He began diplomatically, but Thor had no intention of slowing down.

Loki quickly decided that he would rather not be tackled to the ground and began hastily walking backwards, with skilful steps to ensure he didn’t stumble or trip, before he eventually pulled his eyes off of his enraged sibling and made a final sprint back towards the safety of the TARDIS where you, your auntie and the Doctor, observed in confused and concerned silence as Loki ran back around the console, without ever taking his eyes off of the double doors.

Before any of you could question what was wrong, a mighty man came crashing through the doors while growling Loki’s name.

You hadn’t immediately recognised him as Thor, since the last and only time you saw him, he had short hair and most his face had been cast in shadows. The man who crashed into the TARDIS had long knotted hair and a bushy beard which covered half his face.

“Thor, I can explain.” Loki insisted from where he was stood on the other side of the console.

***

“Where’d the hairbag go? We’re meant to be leaving.” A talking raccoon dressed in a vest asked Val, who looked down at the creature with furrowed brows.

“He went chasing after his brother.” Val answered as she looked back towards the blue police box, while the raccoon looked out at the water that lay beyond the cliff which they were stood on.

“Ain’t he dead?” The raccoons face twisted in horror as he assumed Val had used a metaphor to explain that Thor had ran off the cliff edge in order to reunite with his brother.

***

You looked back towards the man who barged into the TARDIS, after Loki had revealed he was Thor, and although he had drastically changed his appearance since the last time you saw him, which was only a few hours ago, you began to pick up on recognisable features which told you undoubtedly that he was, in fact, Thor.

“What sorcery is this?” Thor asked, as he looked around the spacious control room, which was much larger than the small box he had followed his brother into.

“Not sorcery, science.” The Doctor corrected him as he casually strolled across his control room.

“I know you,” Thor drew his brows together as he pointed one of his fingerless glove clad fingers at the time lord, “you were with Loki in New York.”

Thor glanced towards you and your auntie and you saw recognition settle across his eyes, indicating he remembered the both of you as well.

“Loki healed you.” Thor pointed the same finger at you and you felt as though a spotlight had been shone on you, as you shrank away from the attention. The Loki who had healed you was no longer here, he was also the Loki who saved his brothers life and he didn’t even know it, you decided to change that.

“Loki and I were together,” you began to explain, you didn’t miss the way Thor’s eyes widened as he looked between you and the other Loki who was silently watching his brothers reaction. “When you and all the Avengers travelled back in time, Loki managed to escape with the Tesseract after he was captured in New York.”

“No,” Thor shook his head, as he looked back towards Loki, “I took you back to Asgard, father banished you to the dungeons.”

Loki opened his mouth to explain but you beat him to it, regaining Thor’s attention.

“The Time Variants Authority arrested Loki because he wasn’t meant to escape from New York, afterwards they restored the timeline, it was as if he never left, everything was put back to normal, but this variant of Loki still existed. That’s who I met, that is the Loki you met in the alleyway in New York, that is the Loki who you saw get killed by Thanos.” By the time you finished explaining your eyes were glossy as tears had gathered on your waterline and you quickly excused yourself, before you broke down in front of everyone, and rushed off to the privacy of your own room.

“I don’t understand.” Thor spoke once you had left, he looked between Loki, the Doctor and Donna for further explanation.

Loki stepped around from the protection of the console and approached his brother as he explained.

“There was another version of me on the refuge ship, he managed to grab me during the commotion and knock me unconscious and take my place. He saved both your life and mine. Afterwards I woke up here, on the floor of this ship, with a head full of brand new memories which I had never experienced.” By the time Loki had finished explaining he was stood right before his brother, who by now had tears gathered in his own eyes as they took in Loki’s appearance. He looked exactly as he had the last time Thor saw him, he was wearing the same outfit, his hair was the same length and he even had the same marks of dirt and ash smudged on his face.

Without hesitation Thor pulled Loki into his chest. At first Loki was startled by the sudden show of affection and flinched, but he soon relaxed into his brothers hold and slowly brought his own arms across Thor’s broad back to return his embrace. Loki did his best to ignore his brothers scratchy beard irritating his neck as Thor hooked his chin over his shoulder.

While the brothers were sharing a moment, Donna quietly slipped out of the control room, she encouraged the Doctor to make himself scarce as well by subtly waving her hand in a ‘come here’ motion by her side. He didn’t need to be told twice, as he never knew what to do with himself when others were sharing a moment in front of him, escaping was the best option.

Once the pair were in the corridor Donna informed the Doctor that she was going to check on you and the Doctor escaped once again, as he diverted down another corridor, leaving Donna to seek you out on her own.

The very first place she checked for you was your bedroom and that’s exactly where you were, sat quietly on the foot of your bed as you fidgeted with your hands over your lap. You were no longer crying, she noticed, but you still made the occasional sniffle which indicated that you had only stopped not so long ago.

Donna didn’t say anything as she apprehensively invited herself into the room, she treated the space delicately, as if the slightest movement would destroy it like a house of cards, her feet barely made a sound as she tip toed towards you and the springs of your mattress squeaked as faintly as a mouse as she lowered herself down right by your side.

“It’s nice that Loki reunited with his brother.” Donna kept her voice soft and gentle, as anything else would have felt inappropriate in that moment.

You simply nodded your head in response as you kept your eyes focused on your intertwined hands over your lap.

“I see the way you look at this new Loki,” Donna mused and you lifted your head in interest of her observations. “Like he killed your cat and then pissed in your cornflakes.”

You only huffed and lowered your head.

“The only reason he is alive is because my Loki isn’t.” You shook your head. “I think I am allowed to be, at the very least, a little bit resentful of that.”

“That’s fair.” Donna nodded, “but you have also been offered something a lot of people would kill for.”

“And what’s that?” You asked through a cynical scoff of a laugh, wondering what kind of silver lining Donna could have possibly found in this situation.

“A second chance.” She answered as if it were obvious.

You let her words settle between the two of you as you pondered over them for a moment before you eventually shook your head, with an unreadable expression.

“Even if I wanted it, which I don’t, he has already told me he isn’t interested.” You told your auntie.

“He said that to you?” Donna leaned towards you, almost as if she couldn’t believe what you were telling her and when you confirmed it with a nod, she wrapped her hand around yours and rose from your bed, muttering something under her breath you didn’t quite catch as she pulled you along with her.

You were beyond mortified as you stumbled along behind her while she lead you out of your bedroom and down the corridor in the direction of the control room.

***

When Thor pulled back from the embrace, he held Loki by his shoulders, while Loki maintained a stiff exterior with tense shoulders as he stared at his brother with narrowed eyes and his brows pulled into a frown.

“What?” Loki prompted Thor when he could sense that he was thinking something.

“I never thought I would see the day that my brother, the God of Mischief, would court a midgardian.” Thor smiled, a proud smile to which Loki rolled his eyes and stepped back from his hold.

“Not me, the other Loki. Why would I have any interest in a midgardian I barely know?” Loki explained as he avoided looking at Thor in favour of inspecting the console, which caused him to miss Thor’s frown.

“The other you put those memories in your mind for a reason and you’re just going to throw it all away?” Thor followed Loki around the console, trying to encourage him to meet his eyes.

“She doesn’t want me here anyway.” Loki admitted which made Thor’s face twist with offence on his brothers behalf.

“When did she tell you that?” Thor asked his brother and Loki quickly realised that this bothered Thor far more than it had bothered him, but he allowed his brother to have his moment.

“Just before.” Loki answered with little interest, what he didn’t expect was for Thor’s hand to wrap around his wrist in order to drag him deeper into the TARDIS.

Loki dug his heels into the ground in an attempt to halt his brother, while his protests fell on deaf ears.

“Thor, you’re behaving like a barbarian. This is humiliating. I don’t even want to stay here.” Loki tried to get through to his older brother but it was no use.

When Loki heard your voice echoing down the corridor, he silenced his protests so he could hear what you were saying.

“Donna, stop! It doesn’t matter, I couldn’t care less about what he thinks.” He heard you tell your auntie, as your footsteps grew closer.

Eventually the four of you collided at a corner where two corridors met and before either you or Loki could speak, Donna and Thor were talking over each other.

“My brother tells me you don’t make him feel welcome here.”

“Why are you telling my niece you’re not interested in her?”

“Because it’s true.” Loki answered matter-of-factly, while at the same time you said, “I didn’t mean to make him feel unwelcome, it’s just- it’s not exactly easy to be around him.”

“She at least deserves a chance.” Donna had immediately answered Loki, at the same time you spoke.

“I’m not here to fill the place her Loki left behind.” Loki answered Donna just as you told her, “Donna, just drop it!”

“Then why did he give you all his memories?” Donna ignored you and Thor backed up her argument, “that’s what I said! The other Loki wanted you to have his memories for a reason.”

“Whatever his reason was doesn’t matter, it is entirely my choice what I decide to do with them.” Loki insisted. “Now my brother and I will be on our way.”

“No.” Thor spoke in a low tone, which caused Loki to freeze halfway through his turn to march away.

“What now?” Loki sighed with a roll of his eyes.

“I can’t let you throw this away without giving it a chance.” Thor told his brother.

“What are you suggesting, brother.” Loki turned around to face Thor with a tilt of his head.

“I will refuse to let you leave with me unless you give this a fair chance. Just explore his memories a little, get to know the person the other version of yourself fell for, perhaps there will still be something there for the both of you.”

You and Loki remained silent as you both thought about Thor’s suggestion, although it felt wrong to ‘replace’ your Loki, he had given him his memories and told you to take care of him, perhaps giving him a chance was the fair thing to do for the both of you but you didn’t dare show any reaction to Thor’s ultimatum on the surface.

“May I speak with you for a moment?” Loki feigned politeness, as he took his brother by the crook of his elbow and pulled him a few paces down the corridor where they began talking with their backs turned to you and Donna.

“Are you out of your mind, I said I don’t want to stay here, why can’t I just go with you?” Loki muttered under his breath to his brother.

“The other you developed these friendships, he had a relationship and I think he wanted you to have them or at least have the chance to explore them and how do you know you won’t one day regret walking away from them? At least if you give it a try, you won’t forever be asking yourself ‘what if?’” Thor whispered back.

“This is a terrible idea.” Loki protested, “I already know I will hate it.”

“Just take her on one date. If it doesn’t change your mind-”

“It won’t change my mind.”

“If it doesn’t change your mind, then you can leave. I think that’s fair.” Thor told him and Loki contemplated it with a swift glance towards you from over his shoulder.

“Fine.” Loki answered with a sigh.

“You won’t regret it.” Thor patted Loki’s shoulder with a smile, which his brother responded to with a glare.

[gofancyninjaworld]

OPM Mega review (chapters 131 - 148): Part 2  To the side, not the sidelines

A continuation of part 1 of the mega review.  This isn’t a narrative account, but rather a look at all the other groups and happenings around where the main battle is raging.

Heroism in all sizes

It’s like the end of the world.  City Z isn’t the first city to face near total devastation.  But City A was at least gone in a flash. People had almost no time to consider their imminent demise.  In City Z, the carnage has had time to build and to come from multiple directions.  From vampiric monster roots enveloping and sucking the lives out of inhabitants by the block. From powerful earthquakes splitting and even twisting the ground. From aerial bombardments of gigantic rubble and from the sea itself as the coastline is threatened by a chain of tsunamis.  Survivors aren’t bothering to try driving: it’s whatever you can carry as fast as you can.

Those who gave up their beds.  The Hero Hospital in City S has come to serve as an impromptu staging post for nearby heroes.  Like a middle finger stuck up at face of civilisation, the tower previously buried underground and its glowing red monster is just about visible from the hillsides of City S and draws heroes in like a beacon.  First Metal Bat,  then Mumen Rider, then the Tank Toppers, then the Blizzard Group, then all the other heroes hospitalised in the aftermath of either the Day of Chaos or Garou’s depredations discharge themselves against medical advice and run in to see who they can save.

just as well they all went -- the roads are so impassable and the situation so volatile that they’re literally the only rescue coming for hours if not days

Swept up in the mood, the martial artists were considering moving out too, only for Suiryu to pour cold water on the notion.  It has done me a world of good to see that Suiryu has been inspired by Max and Snek and not Saitama. He finally gets it that a hero is someone who has the courage to step into the path of danger because someone needs help, and not because they’re strong and think they’ll win.

No space for playing hero.  It’s very wise that Suiryu advised his fellow martial artists not to play hero.  If many have complained about how heroes seem to be blessed with life, no such protections are afforded to non-heroes. The people who went in alongside heroes have suffered grievously,  although those who have died did so bravely.

I have a one-person prayer circle going for Sekingar. I pray that ONE will choose to spare his fine non-hero one-eyed, single-handed ass.  I have come to like the guy and I’ve been impressed at how he has stayed calm when trapped in City Z,  succeeded in encouraging discouraged heroes and even asserting a genuine authority to guide Metal Bat and King. I don’t think there’s too many more like him in the executive of the Hero Association and think it’d be a shame if he didn’t bring his hard-won experiences back to guide them in what’s sure to be a crisis.

The king under the mountain

This arc has introduced us to a lot of concepts and players who are likely to have long-term effect on the world.  In this series of chapters, some of these ideas are developed further.

Came for the pussy, stayed for the tentacles. I’m sorry, I’m allowed one double entendre a week and I decided to curse you with it.  I wouldn’t have mentioned this but Drive Knight’s comings and goings are almost certainly going to be very plot-relevant later.   He was supposed to be gone with his prize of one Nyan, but then he saw the tower emerge and Psykos-Orochi wave tentacles skyward and as much as a cyborg with no discernable facial features can be said to yearn, he yearned. For a sample that is.

He stuck around as long as it took him to get a sample of Orochi and then he was gone, without so much as a ‘thank you for your help’.  At present, we’ll just have to see what this is all about later.

When the cat’s away the mice will play.  The only way to foment a world ending crisis is to have the guy who can squash it all and wonder what the fuss was about occupied elsewhere.  Through meeting Flashy Flash and getting a tour into the deepest reaches of the Monster Association thanks to Manako, and a couple of other things, Saitama is literally trapped in an alternative dimension. Although, being Saitama, if he felt a sense of urgency, he’d break back into the real world without a second thought.  Right now he’s curious,worried for his house, but mostly hungry.  Some curry would be nice.

The real question is how are the heroes going to hold out until Saitama arrives?  I’ve been touched by how genre-savvy Genos and King are about this. It’d be amusing if it weren’t so brutally true.

The formal establishment of extra-spatial dimensions as a feature not restricted to a few unusual individuals.   Phoenixman first got us learning about the idea of extra dimensions, in his case a private manifestation of his inner psyche.  Neither he nor Child Emperor physically moved.

Ninchirin introduces us to the idea of an extra-spatial dimension that physical objects can be stowed in and taken from.

But nothing takes it as far as ‘God’ with the existence of a pocket dimension with its own timeline that takes people in wholesale.  Whether a lot of time passes on the outside (as it does for Saitama and co) or no time passes (as it does for Psykos-Orochi) seems to depend on ‘His’ will. 

The formal establishment of ‘God’ as a singular being with a distinct personality.  Homeless Emperor first talked about ‘God’ as being a being who tasked him with eliminating humanity after he despaired of living as one.  Pyskos expands on that concept. She saw ‘God’ very differently, as a quasi-planetary being rather than as a vaguely humanoid one, but her experience of ‘Him’ as a being who bestowed power and a mission on her bears striking similarity to that of Homeless Emperor.

How people get to talk to ‘God’ becomes clear when we see Flashy Flash and Saitama accidentally summoning ‘Him’ via handling a box.  Which leads very naturally to elucidating some of the mystery of Blast. 

Finding out why Blast is still the number 1 hero.   If the likes of Tatsumaki leave us scratching our heads as to how any hero could outwork her in terms of facing monsters, Blast gives us an answer.  He specialises in dealing with non-physical threats, which he does by having some sort of dimension-hopping gizmo.  The black box he disposes of identical to that seen in Tatsumaki’s flashback, leading us naturally to think about what business the facility holding her was having with ‘Him.’   Webcomic readers see a gimme as well in the construction of the Ninja Village Flash hails from, along with Blast paying the ninjas a visit.

With Blast having taken Saitama and co out of reality, it’s going to be an unknown while before they pop back into it.

Sleeping is such a nice euphemism for dying

The principle of explosive growth through surviving situations that should have killed one is by this point a well-established mechanic within the story.  After seeing Phoenixman come back from the dead, it should perhaps not be a surprise to us that Orochi does the same.  In coming back, he’s evolved into a distributed form that can regrow after even extensive destruction and the consequences of his doing so are already covered in part 1 of this review.

Speaking of evolution, what about Garou? We left Garou buried under tons of rock in the wake of Tatsumaki lifting the base.  Yet again, he does not die -- thank you Darkshine for your anti blunt trauma vaccination -- and little by little, we see him dig himself out, and transforming himself as he goes as he dreams of a world in which he enforces peace but very unconventional means.

In retrospect, the sequence of Garou’s eyes closing in response to his humanising memory of Tareo is the most ominous as the eyes that open again have not a shred of humanity in them.

It reminds me a lot of what we saw happen to Gouketsu when the latter accepted a monster cell, his human eyes closing as a new set of monster ones opened.

At long last, Garou makes it back to the surface.  But what’s this?  Where’s the wise-cracking, judgemental little shit we love?  What is this near silent, befanged, clawed feral creature beating down on everything he sees? Oh dear.  He is not sleeping sweetly, dreaming pleasant dreams of a world perfectly obedient while he waits for the fist of some self-righteous prince to awaken him to his destiny.  Garou may perceive it as lapses in consciousness, but it’s the monster within eating him alive.  He’s dying. He is under real existential threat of being completely lost to monsterfication and how it is that he can save his humanity is a big point of interest. 

In his flawed way,  Bang is trying to get through to Garou.  I don’t hold out big prospects of him reaching him.  And if he does, I hold out even smaller prospects of him actually beating Garou.  Barring some interruption, we might be about to see the tragedy of a master beaten down by his student.

I’m going to leave this review here.  What comes next is all too soon going to change the status quo of the story, if not for the better, then certainly for the more eventful. 

[cardest]

London playlist

London - since 43 AD it has to be one of the more fascinating cities on Earth. Such a rich history. From Shakespeare Theatre to the music from there today. I just had to put a London playlist together. From Soho to Brixton, from Highgate to Clapham  what a collection of songs! It’s over 350 songs and it could easily expand to 400. **I have a separate England & Wales playlist coming, so, stay tuned for that**.

To play the songs, hit the link right here: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-iHPcxymC1_ntP663JhZl-hvn9EwFp9L

ENGLAND & WALES playlist is coming soon! What songs have I left out? Let me know! Add your own songs! Cheers. Pip pip, tally ho!

LONDON 001 Generation X -  Day By Day 002 The Clash - London Calling 003 Austin Powers  - theme song (Soul Bossa? Nova ) 004 The Kinks - Dedicated Follower Of Fashion 005 Killing Joke - Empire Song 006 Black Sabbath - Wicked World 007 The Who - Welcome 008 The Damned - Neat, neat, neat 009 GIRLSCHOOL - LONDON 010 007 theme song 011 Motorhead - Motorhead 012 Wire - Ex Lion Tamer 013 David Bowie - Maid of Bond Street 014 The Misfits - London Dungeon 015 Rolling Stones - 016 The Adverts - Bored Teenagers 017 Siouxsie & The Banshees -  Spellbound 018 Penny Dreadful - Soundtrack - Main Theme 019 Eurythmics - Love Is A Stranger 020 The Cure - Subway Song 021 Adam And The Ants -  Puss 'n' Boots 022 Iron Maiden - 22 Acacia Avenue 023 COIL - Fire of the mind 024 Public Image Ltd - One Drop. 025 LUSH - Breeze 026 Bliss Signal - Surge 027 The Pogues - Misty Morning, Albert Bridge 028 PhD - Won't Let You Down 029 Birthday Party - Hats On Wrong 030 Eddy Grant - Electric Avenue 031 Help Yourself - Reaffirmation 032 Grave Miasma - Gnosis of the summon 033 Roy Ayers - We Live In London Baby 034 Led Zeppelin - The Rover 035 Gang of Four - What we all want 036 Pet Shop Boys - West End Girl                 037 Sleaford Mods - 6 Horsemen (The Brixtons) 038 Paul Young - Love of the Common People 039 The Saint (original) - Theme 040 The Human League - Dont You Want Me 041 Sex Pistols - God Save The Queen 042 The Beatles - A Day In The Life 043 Def Leppard -  Love bites 044 The Stranglers - Another Camden Afternoon 045 The Kinks  - See My Friends 046 Elton John - Bennie and the Jets 047 Suede - Moving 048 Queen - Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy 049 Cliff Richard & the Shadows - She's Gone 050 The Rolling Stones - Start Me Up 051 Loop - Fade Out 052 Jah Wobble's Invaders Of The Heart - A13 053 The Magnetic Fields - All the Umbrellas in London 054 Wendy Carlos - Title Music From A Clockwork Orange (From Purcell's Music For The Funeral Of Queen Mary) 055 The Police - Every Little Thing she does it Magic 056 Cockney Rejects - The Greatest Cockney Rip Off 057 Spandau Ballet - Spandau Ballet Chant No.1 058 The Pretenders - Middle of the Road 059 The Who - Dogs 060 The Jam - London Girl 061 Cradle of Filth - Hurt and Virtue 062 Joy Division - Isolation 063 Nick Drake - At the Chime of a City Clock 064 Sham 69 - Cockney Kids Are Innocent 065 Deep Purple - Mandrake Root 066 Throbbing Gristle - Hit by a rock 067 David Bowie - Rubber Band 068 Roxy Music  - Do The Strand 069 Slaves - Cheer Up London 070 T. Rex - London Boys 071 Kirsty MacColl - Autumngirlsoup 072 New Model Army - Archway Towers 073 Scorpions - Lovedrive 074 Isaac Hayes - Doesnt Rain In London 075 Peter Tosh - Buk-In-Hamm Palace 076 The Slits - Typical Girls 077 Pharaoh Sanders - Midnight In Berkeley Square (Instrumental) 078 Blue Cheer - Girl From London 079 Sex Pistols - Satellite 080 Judas Priest - (The Hellion ) Electric Eye 081 UFO -  Lights Out 082 Joy Division - Digital 083 Muse - Uprising 084 George Harrison - All Things Must Pass 085 Robert Palmer - Addicted To Love 086 Fine Young Cannibals - Blue 087 New Order - Blue Monday 088 Würzel - Midnight In London 089 Rod Stewart - Gasoline Alley 090 The Wildhearts - Down On London 091 Supertramp - Nothing To Show 092 Motörhead - Metropolis 093 Current 93 - Lucifer Over London 094 The Pogues - Dark Streets of London 095 The Cult - All Souls Avenue 096 The Jam - In The City 097 The Undertones - Teenage Kicks 098 Iggy Pop -  Play It Safe 099 Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds - Jack the Ripper 100 The Cure  - Lets Go To Bed 101 Suede - Animal Nitrate 102 Wire - field day for the sundays 103 Black Books  TV Show - Opening Theme 104 Paul McCartney & Wings - London Town 105 Madness - Primrose Hill 106 The Troggs  - No. 10 Downing Street 107 Iron Maiden -  Gangland 108 PJ Harvey - The Last Living Rose 109 The Rollers - Soho 110 Electric Wizard - Lucifer's Slaves 111 The Buzzcocks -  Just Lust 112 Doctor Who Theme Tune 1980 113 Cathedral - Fountain Of Innocence 114 Pretenders - Swinging London 115 Hanoi Rocks - Tooting Bec Wreck 116 Es - 'Chemical 117 Bee Gees  - Trafalgar 118 The Peddlers    - Under London Lights 119 Cliff Richard - The Young Ones 120 Big Audio Dynamite - Sightsee M.C   121 ABC - Tower of London 122 Accept - London Leatherboys 123 Pitchshifter - Please Sir 124 Portishead -  We Carry On 125 John Lennon - Whatever Gets You Thru The Night 126 The Lurkers - Ain't Got a Clue 127 Iron Maiden - Die with your boots on 128 Siouxsie and the Banshees - Kiss Them For Me 129 Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds - From Her to Eternity 130 The Jam - London Traffic 131 The Cranberries - Waiting In Walthamstow 132 The Kinks - Victoria 133 Heads Hands & Feet - Pete Might Spook The Horses 134 Whitesnake -  Long Way From Home 135 Queensryche - London 136 Concrete Blonde - Walking in London 137 Deep Purple - Fireball 138 The Ruts - dope for guns 139 Wham! - Bad Boys 140 Generation X - One Hundred Punks 141 Joe Jackson - Down To London 142 Anti-Nowhere League - Streets of London 143 The Wildhearts - Shandy Bang 144 David Bowie - The London Boys 145 The Human League - Human 146 Cockney Rejects - East end 147 Dire Straits - Eastbound Train 148 Ian Drury - Hit Me With Your Rhythm Stick 149 Sepultura -  Filthy rot 150 The Jam - Down In The Tube Station At Midnight 151 Fine Young Cannibals - She Drives Me Crazy 152 Purson -  Electric Landlady 153 Black Sabbath -  Tomorrow's Dream 154 The Clash - Guns of Brixton 155 Blood Ceremony - Lord Of Misrule 156 Monty Pythons The Meaning of Life - Penis Song 157 Gentlemans Pistols -  Hustler's Row 158 Frankie Goes To Hollywood - Relax 159 Jethro Tull - Cross Eyed Mary 160 The Yobs - The Ballad of the Warrington 161 Cradle of Filth - Principle Of Evil Made Flesh 162 Bruce Hornsby - The Black Rats Of London 163 Inspiral Carpets - How It Should Be 164 The Jimi Hendrix Experience - Foxy Lady 165 PETULA CLARK - WINCHESTER CATHEDRAL 166 Lush - Olympia 167 Hunters & Collectors - Blind Eye 168 Thompson Twins - Hold Me Now 169 David Bowie - The Man Who Sold the World 170 UK Subs - C.I.D. 171 Queen - Dont Stop Me Now 172 Bruce Dickinson - Accident of Birth 173 the clash - capital radio one 174 UB40 - Here I Am (Come And Take Me) 175 The Meads Of Asphodel - Guts For Sale 176 Horrible Histories: Savage Songs - Boudicca 177 Swallow the Sun - Labyrinth Of London (Horror Pt. IV) 178 Mad Professor  - Ben Gone Wrong 179 Howard Jones - Things Can Only Get Better 180 Genesis - The Battle Of Epping Forest 181 The Damned -  problem child 182 Squeeze  - Cool For Cats 183 Manfred Mann - Belgravia 184 The Bee Gees - Walking Back to Waterloo 185 Pink Floyd - Waiting For The Worms 186 Madness - Victoria Gardens 187 Paradise Lost - Soul Courageons 188 YES  - Roundabout 189 PJ Harvey - This Is Love 190 The Horrors - Jack The Ripper 191 King Crimson - Red 192 The Smiths - How Soon Is Now 193 Level 42 - Heathrow 194 Intaferon - Get Out Of London 195 Burt Bacharach - Bond street 196 David Bowie - Ziggy Stardust 197 The Clash - Londons Burning 198 Killing Joke - Follow The Leaders 199 Saxon - The Court of the Crimson King 200 Buzzcocks - Harmony in My Head 201 Fairport Convention - Fiddlesticks (Peel Session) 202 Napalm Death - Errors In The Signals 203 Empire  - Hot Seat 204 Anathema - Shroud of Frost 205 Pitchshifter - Condescension 206 The Beatles - Hey Jude 207 Affinity - Highgate 208 KLF - 3 A.M. Eternal (Pure Trance) 209 Warren Zevon - Werewolves of London 210 David Axelrod - London 211 The Wombles - Wellington Goes To Waterloo 212 EastEnders Theme 213 Cathedral - Hypnos 164 214 Tom Jones - It's Not Unusual 215 Alan Moore with Tim Perkins - The Highbury Working A Beat Seance 216 Transvision Vamp - Sex Kick 217 Elton John - Tell Me When The Whistle Blows 218 Firebird - Bow bells 219 The Jam - A' Bomb In Wardour Street 220 Caravan  - Waterloo Lily 221 Lord Sutch & Heavy Friends - Flashing Lights 222 David Bowie - Oh! You Pretty Things 223 Hot Chocolate - West End of Park Lane 224 Thames television ident 1984 225 Newtown Neurotics - Living With Unemployment 226 Peter Murphy - Cuts You Up 227 Suede - Metal Mickey 228 Peter Gabriel - Sledgehammer 229 Killing Joke - The Gathering 230 Rolling Stones - You Can't Always Get What You Want 231 Kate Bush - Babooshka 232 Iron Maiden - The Prophecy 233 The Cure - Disintegration 234 The Damned - I Just Can't Be Happy Today 235 WIRE - Silk Skin Paws 236 Brian Eno - Here Come The Warm Jets 237 Souixee & the Banshees - Cascade 238 Jethro Tull - Jeffrey Goes to Leicester Square 239 AC/DC -  Rising Power 240 Alternative TV - Life After Life 241 Napalm Death - Deceiver (Peel Sessions) 242 Electric Light Orchestra - Last Train To London 243 Bucks Fizz - London Town 244 The Sweet - Blockbuster! 245 999 - Bent Cross 246 The Groundhogs - Split, Pt. 1 247 Bow Wow Wow - Go Wild in the Country 248 Blood Ceremony -  Half Moon Street 249 Ming Tea feat. Austin Powers - BBC One 250 Led Zeppelin - Immigrant Song 251 Big Audio Dynamite - EMC2 252 Crass - Banned from the Roxy 253 Sleaford Mods - Chaos Down In SoHo 254 Big Ben Chimes of Westminster, London 255 PJ Harvey - A Place Called Home 256 The Ruts - Staring at the rude boys 257 The Times - Whatever Happened To Thames Beat 258 Quincy Jones - London Derriere 259 Lush - Hypocrite 260 PIL - Reggie Song 261 The Style Council - You're The Best Thing 262 UK Subs - Dirty Girls 263 COIL - Slur 264 Frank Zappa - Dead girls of London 265 Iron Maiden - Prowler 266 The Slits - Difficult Fun 267 Killing Joke -  Kings and Queens 268 Simple Minds - Chelsea Girl 269 Motorhead - Bomber 270 XTC - Towers Of London 271 Blitzkrieg  - Hell to pay 272 Gryphon - Opening Move 273 The Challengers - The Streets of London 274 Peggy March - In Der Carnaby Street 275 The Damned - Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde 276 The Pogues - London You're a Lady 277 The Lords Of The New Church - Portobello 278 Rolling Stones - Hot Stuff 279 Joe Jackson - The Evil Eye 280 The Deviants - Garbage 281 Benny Hill Show  - Wild Women 282 Suzi Quatro - Crash 283 Madness - day on the town 284 SHAKESPEAR'S SISTER -  I Don't Care 285 Whitesnake - Wine Women An Song 286 Pink Floyd - Astronomy Domine 287 Rick Astley - Whenever You Need Somebody 288 Bauhaus - In the flat field 289 Dead Can Dance - In Power We Entrust The Love Advocated 290 Paul McCartney -  Old Siam, Sir 291 Lush - De-Luxe 292 AC/DC - let's get it up 293 Sophia Loren & Peter Sellers - Bangers and mash 294 Black Sabbath - Childfren of the grave 295 Psychic TV - The orchids 296 Miracle - The Strife Of Love In A Dream 297 Carter USM - Lean On Me I Won't Fall Over 298 Screaming Lord Sutch - Jack the Ripper 299 WIRE - the 15th 300 Mott the Hoople - Honaloochie Boogie 301 Soft Machine - The Camden Tandem 302 Are You Being Served Theme 303 CATHEDRAL - Serpent Eve 304 Booker T. & The MG's - Carnaby Street 305 Culture Club - It's A Miracle 306 Motorhead - Nothing Up My Sleeve 307 Killing Joke - Money is not our God 308 Bronski Beat - Smalltown Boy 309 WIRE - Please take 310 Bananarama - Hey young London 311 The Jam - Carnaby Street 312 Catapilla - Charing Cross   313 The Shadows - Chelsea Boot 314 Ride - Chelsea Girl 315 The Damned  - Grimly Fiendish 316 Marillion - Chelsea Monday 317 Slowdive - Celia's Dream 318 The Clash - Gates of the west 319 Thin Lizzy - Half Caste 320 David Bowie -  I dig everything 321  VUUR - Days Go By - London 322 Elvis Costello - [I Don't Want To Go To] Chelsea 323 Uriah Heep - Walking in your shadow 324 Genesis - Invisible Touch 325 Amy Winehouse - Me & Mr Jones 326 Curve - Fait Accompli   327 Silverfish ‎- Crazy 328 Iron Maiden - Killers 329 Killing Joke -  Ghost Of Ladbroke Grove 330 Sex Pistols - Anarchy In The UK 331 Paradise lost - remembrance 332 The Fall - Leave the Capitol 333 The Kinks - Waterloo Sunset 334 WIRE - Keep exhaling 335 The Peddlers - raining in London 336 Motorhead - damage case 337 10cc - Shock On The Tube (Don't Want Love) 338 Swervedriver - Rave Down 339 Spike Milligan - Tower Bridge 340 Phil Lynott - Solo In Soho 341 Adam and the Ants - Plastic Surgery 342 The Who - Pinball wizard 343 Pulp - Mile end 344 Generation X - Running with the Boss Sound 345 OMD - If You Leave 346 PiL - Public Image 347 Monty Python's Flying Circus TV show - theme song 348 Hall & Oates - London, Luck & Love 349 The Horrors - Three decades 350 Cathedral - Midnight Mountain 351 Killing Joke - glitch 352 Judas Priest - The Ripper 353 Air Raid Siren London Blitz 354 Dragonforce - Fury and the storm 355 Elastica - Connection 356 the Psychedelic Furs - Dumb waiters 357 Samantha Fox - Touch me 358 Wang Chung - Dance hall days 359 Kim Wilde - Water on glass 360 Siouxsie and the Banshees - Overground 361 Atomic Rooster - Tomorrow night 362 Fleetwood Mac - My Heart Beat Like a Hammer 363 Rainbow - Self Portrait 364 Billy Ocean - Love really hurts without you 365 Art of Noise - Beat box (division one) 366 Eurythmics - Never Gonna Cry Again 367 Samson - Grime Crime 368 Go West - we close our eyes 369 Ultravox - Saturday Night In The City Of The Dead 370 King Crimson - 21st Century Schizoid Man 371 Visage - Visage 372 Sandy Denny - Let's Jump The Broomstick 373 Brian Eno - Burning Airlines Give You So Much More 374 Fields Of The Nephilim - Blue water 375 Leftfield - Open Up 376 Blancmange - I've Seen The Word 377 Thomas Dolby - Flying north 378 Sisters of Mercy - Temple of love 379 Royal Orchestra - Royal Entrance Queen Elizabeth II 380 Pink Floyd - Goodbye blue sky 666 David Bowie -  London Bye Ta - Ta 

Play the songs here: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-iHPcxymC1_ntP663JhZl-hvn9EwFp9L

[labelleofbelfastcity]

hold my hand, it’s a long way down

1.5k, high fantasy royalty au, most of the details of which were provided by @capybart

read on ao3 here

Kalina smirks as she glides into the room, black furs gleaming around her shoulders and long train hissing across the floor. Riz, reflexively, takes a step back, as his eyes clock the false crown atop her head, the feline smile curving her mouth, and the knife in her hand, flickering in the candlelight.

“I trust you’re doing well,” she says, and keeps approaching until she’s standing right before him, staring him down.

Riz’s heart jumps a beat and his eyes dart around, trying to see where he can go, what he can grab, if it is even likely to move at all before that knife is sliding into his neck and tearing an ugly gash in his throat. “Not with any thanks to you.”

Kalina huffs, mouth quirking to the side, before she slumps down to sit on his bed, shoulders falling and head tilting to look at him. The black gem in the center of her diadem seems to dance like cold fire, drawing Riz’s eyes to it even as he tries to focus on a million and one other things. Unnatural, Riz thinks, with a sickening shock directly to his heart. And then he remembers the things people have always whispered about Kalina, words like witch and sorceress and Shadow Cat. Remembers those words and sees the way her eyes flash yellow in the candle’s flame.

“I’m disappointed in you, kiddo. I thought you’d figure out by now that this is all for you.”

“Where’s my mom?” Riz spits out, as he has done every time Kalina visits him in these much too fancy rooms, this much too fancy prison.

Kalina rolls her eyes, leans back on one arm, flips the dagger in her other hand, “Thought we got past that already.”

“I know you did something to her.”

“I didn’t do anything. Besides, she’s safe. She’s comfortable. What more could you ask of me?”

“I want you to give her back.”

“And I thought it was you, kiddo, who told me not too long ago that people weren’t toys. That they couldn’t be given and taken. Hm. Must be wrong about that.” Kalina flicks the tip of the dagger at him, holding it just a few inches away from Riz’s ribs, where she could slide it straight up and into his heart. “That’s not what I came here for, though. How’s the prince doing?”

“Aren’t you at court with him?” Riz spits out, and refuses to yield yet another step.

“Yes, yes. And he’s doing so well today, too. I’ve never seen a more attentive courter, practically glued to the Lady Aelwyn’s side. Which is funny, seeing as how we had to drag him from his rooms less than a week ago.”

“Fabian’s not planning anything,” Riz says, leaving out the because I am.

Kalina huffs, and taps the dagger against her own cheek, “I don’t know when you’ll learn. Everything you know, I know. I’m in your head, kiddo.”

Riz’s spine snaps straight as a scream he knows doesn’t exist sounds from his left, and then his right, screams that sounds like Fig and Fabian. Screams he only knows because of that day, weeks ago, when the Abernants and their holy warriors in gleaming sun-forged metal took the castle and forced the prince, Riz’s friend, the person Riz was supposed to protect above all else, to stab his father in the heart. Fig had screamed then, in rage, and tried to take the nearest knight out with a swing of her lute, and Fabian had screamed later, when the three of them were back in these rooms, in that soft, silent way of tears and grief and heartache and complete and total betrayal.

“See? That’s what you don’t understand,” Kalina says, standing once again. “That’s what I’m saving you from. I’m protecting your little friends because you’re useful to me. You don’t want to stop being useful to me, do you?”

Riz remains where he is, fighting back the nausea as the screams grow. Now, he couldn’t move even if he wanted to, rooted to the spot by a clawed hand holding tightly onto his mind.

“Do you?” Kalina asks again, and this time she brings the knife up to Riz’s jaw, just under his ear. The cold pricks against his skin and Riz is so afraid.

“No,” he rasps out, and she smiles again, eyes crinkling. The screams immediately stop.

“Good.” The heavy handle of the knife drops into Riz’s hand, and his fingers close over it reflexively. It’s dangerous, to give your enemy a weapon. Dangerous, still, to give them a weapon they have no hope to use in any way that counts. “You can’t get away from me, bud. Just remember that.”

Riz snarls at her, “We’re going to stop you.”

Kalina clucks her tongue and begins to walk away, “The only way you’ll escape is if I want you to.”

The door swings shut behind her right as her hold over Riz’s body drops, and he sags a little, before startling upright again. She must know, there’s no way she doesn’t. Her knowing had not been a factor of the plan, despite everything pointing towards its likelihood. Really, how could Riz have been so stupid? He’ll need a few minutes to change things, modify them so that they can actually escape, can actually get out of here.

Fabian is trapped in this castle. Fig is trapped. Their new ally, the oracle Adaine Abernant, their friend, is trapped as well. He can’t risk their freedom for himself, can’t risk Fabian and Fig’s sacrifices and the dangerous line between family and safety Adaine is flirting with. He just… he’ll figure out another way. He just needs time.

The heavy sound of a wooden lute being swung against a head thunks from outside Riz’s door, and then it’s opening to reveal his friends standing on the threshold. No, no, no, this is happening too fast. He hasn’t had time to plan.

Fig lowers her lute from where it’s raised in the air, hovering around where the now unconscious guard’s head probably was less than a second ago.

“Shit, Riz, we need to go,” Adaine says, hoisting her skirts and sprinting for his window, the same window Riz had been preparing before Kalina waltzed in.

Fabian twirls his red, embroidered, very much not stealthy court cloak from his shoulders, slinging on the black one he’d stashed on Riz’s chair earlier. The cloak that Kalina had most certainly seen because Riz hadn’t bothered to hide it. “We have five minutes.”

Adaine throws the window open and immediately heaves one of her legs out of it, hair whipping slightly in the breeze. She reaches behind her and grabs Fig’s hand, pulling her up and onto the windowsill beside her.

They’ve discussed this plan ad nauseum for weeks. So it’s almost too easy for Adaine and Fig to leap from the window with nothing but a nod, not even noticing how Riz has yet to move from his spot.

“Alright, we’re next, The Ball,” Fabian says, and hoists himself up onto the windowsill, cracking his knuckles and rolling his shoulders in preparation for the leap.

Riz moves, then, takes a step back, hands outstretched in a pleading way that doesn’t connect with the usual brave, cunning parts of himself, the parts that plan a castle escape and wind up as companion to the prince. “You can’t take me with you. Kalina, she’s— She’s in my head. She knows, Fabian. I can’t risk it.”

Fabian’s mouth tugs and he leans back into the room, grabbing one of Riz’s outstretched hands and tugging him forward, to the open window, to their one chance at escape. “I didn’t leave you behind before, I’m not about to start now.”

And Riz remembers, remembers the way he and Fig had fought tooth and nail during those first moments of the coup, before the King had fallen at his son’s hand. They’d bought Fabian a second of time, a moment to run, but he’d frozen, frozen as the knights grappled Fig and Riz, frozen with his sword hanging in the air, the wound on his face a bleeding mess.

“Go, Fabian,” Riz had screamed, Fig shouting as well.

Fabian’s sword clattered out of his hand, and he allowed himself to be grabbed by the knight who cut out his eye, to be dragged alongside Riz and Fig to that throne room, to where Kalina and the Abernants waited with King Bill Seacaster slowly bleeding out on his own steps.

“I couldn’t leave you, The Ball. I couldn’t lose you.” Fabian had said that night, once the tears were dry and Fig snored beside them.

“You won’t. We’re going to get through this together,” Riz had said and curled up tightly into Fabian’s side.

The memory flashes in Riz’s head, and then it’s gone, and Riz is back in his night dark room, wind from the open window brushing against his cheeks, and Fabian’s warm hand wrapped around his, pleading, in his own way, for him to follow.

Riz holds tight to the dagger Kalina had given him, the dagger he plans to hurl straight into her heart someday, and allows himself to be pulled out of the window.

[laurenhufflepuff2]

A list of fandoms I'm in (in no particular order, will probably be updated regularly. Some fandoms are more intense and some are more casual. Depending on the fandom, I could go on and on about fandom topics for HOURS. Let's get into it!)

Harry Potter, Disney, Marvel, DC comics, Miraculous Ladybug, Avatar: The Last Airbender/The Legend of Korra, Star Wars, Literature, Winx Club, Nintendo, Minecraft, Little Witch Academia, Voltron, Coraline

Details:

Harry Potter- I got into Harry Potter in 7th grade and now I am the resident expert in my family and in my friend group. I read all the books, watched all the movies (notably the British version), and I've seen the Fantastic Beasts films as well. I've also read Tales of Beedle the Bard (the Warlock's Hairy Heart was traumatizing) along with the Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them textbook (plus an updated edition). I also read The Cursed Child script and while I mean no hate to anyone that liked it, I hated what it did to the canon. I am in Hufflepuff with some Ravenclaw tendencies (I took the Pottermore quiz 3 times, 2 out of 3 I got Hufflepuff, the other time was Ravenclaw). I had a pottermore account and I was so upset when it got converted to the Wizarding World page. I cosplayed Hermione in 7th grade complete with British accent and even monologued as her for a talent show (classmates and teachers would recognize me as the Hermione girl all the way through high school). I was obsessed and I still love it even if J.K. Rowling has gone off the deep end on Twitter... yeah... my favorite character is Hermione but I also relate to Luna

Disney- there's so much that goes into the Disney part of my fandom list. I'm excluding Marvel and Star Wars from this part as they were originally separate entities before Disney got the rights to them. I have seen almost every animated Disney film ever and often use random movie quotes in conversation. My favorite villain is Maleficent, my favorite princess is Ariel (followed by Belle, Rapunzel, and Anna). I relate to so many of the characters. I'm not sure who my favorite Pixar character is though (I love Violet, Sadness, Dory, and Piper (from the short)). My favorite Disney fairy is Fawn. My favorite characters overall are Ariel and Stitch. Disney is definitely on the list as one of my biggest obsessions. My favorite movies are Lilo and Stitch, the Little Mermaid, Inside Out, Alice in Wonderland (original), and The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh.

Marvel- I mostly get my Marvel exposure through the MCU, other movies, and animated TV shows. I have difficulty reading graphic novels so most of my comic book knowledge comes from friends, posts, or wikis. My favorite characters are Spider-Man, Captain America, Peggy Carter, and Scarlet Witch. I also like Gwenpool, Deadpool, Spider-Gwen/ Ghost-Spider, Venom, Squirrel Girl, Daredevil, Mantis, Gamora, Black Widow, Iron Man, Thor, Loki, Bucky, Black Panther, and most MCU characters. Out of the X-men I really like Professor X, Wolverine, Mystique, Magneto, Nightcrawler, and Quicksilver (either version- MCU or Fox).

DC- this was the franchise I was more familiar with growing up but again, graphic novels aren't easy for me to read so most of my knowledge comes from information pages about the comics or from tv/movies. My earliest experience with DC came from the 60s Batman series, with Catwoman and Robin being my favorites. I also watched the Wonder Woman series from the 70s and a handful of CW shows, my favorite of which being the Flash and Arrow. I also managed to watch all 5 seasons of the Teen Titans Cartoon Network series from 2003. With that being said, my favorite characters are Wonder Woman, Catwoman, Flash, Batman, Nightwing/Robin (Dick Grayson), Green Arrow, Starfire, Raven, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, and Alfred. I also like most of the bat family, and when it comes to CW I LOVE Caitlin Snow/Killer Frost and Cisco.

Miraculous- this is one of my guilty fandoms but since this is Tumblr I'm not too worried about it. I love Marinette and I relate to her on an astoundingly deep level (minus the stalking and obsession with potential lovers, that's creepy). If I had a miraculous, I'd probably want the Ladybug one, but the Cat miraculous, fox miraculous, and snake miraculous are good too. My favorite character is Marinette/Ladybug.

Atla/Tlok- I jumped on the avatar bandwagon just when it was starting to get popular, so I managed to get through the series before the memes took over everything. Same with Tlok, although i couldn't completely avoid the spoilers for that when i started it. I've been wanting to get into the comics because of the short story comics I've read, they seem easier to read than superhero comics. My favorite characters are Aang, Katara, Ty Lee, Iroh, Korra, Jinora, Asami, Suki, Appa, Momo, Naga, and Pabu. I also like Sokka, Mai, Zuko, Lin, Kuvira, Varrick, Zhu Lee, and Azula. I feel really sorry for her and while I understand that a redemption arc would undermine the importance of her corruption arc, I still wish she could have one. I would love to be a waterbender or an airbender... maybe a waterbender raised in the air nation? Obviously, being the avatar itself would be awesome. The show has taught me a lot of great lessons and put a lot of stuff into perspective for me.

Star Wars- oh boy, talking about this one is dangerous. I've seen firsthand the horrors of the Star Wars fandom but then again no one will probably see this anyway so... I've seen all the movies and I remember watching the clone wars series with my brother when I was younger but we fell wayyy behind and it's taking us forever to get back into it. I've also seen the Mandalorian and quite enjoyed it. I like the prequels unironically, in fact, the prequels are some of my favorite movies. I especially like how they switched from lightsabers being heavy weapons to light weapons that can be used for all kinds of tricks that make for epic battles like the ones we see in Revenge of the Sith. The sequels were fun to watch but when I would analyze them along side their predecessors, I came to the conclusion that, for me, they were good to watch but did not do anything good for the rest of the franchise. My favorite characters are prequels/clone wars Obi Wan and Anakin, Padme, Ashoka, Leia, R2D2, BB-8, R4-P17, the Mandalorian (Din Djarin), and Grogu. If I had a lightsaber I'd want it to be blue, but when I was little I got a purple one like Mace Windu because it was closer to pink and I was into pink at the time. I still have that lightsaber and none of my friends have a purple one so it's one of my flexes. I feel like I wouldn't make a good jedi because of attachments being forbidden, so I'd probably become a grey jedi.

Literature- this is a broad term I use to cover all the random books and stories I liked reading and have studied. So we have Shakespeare (Macbeth, Much Ado About Nothing, Romeo and Juliet), The Great Gatsby (bored while reading, loved to analyze), Grendel (HATED reading, loved to analyze, Grendel really needed a hug and a friend), The Crucible, Fahrenheit 451, Dark Life (+ the sequel Riptide, both are by Kat Falls good reads, sci-fi and kind of dystopian), The Once and Future King

Winx Club- I think the show is trashy but I still love watching it. I haven't been able to get through season 6 though and I hated what they did with season 8 and Fate: the Winx Saga. My favorite character is Bloom along with Stella and Flora. I prefer rai to nick. My favorite transformations are magic winx, enchantix, and harmonix. My favorite member of the Trix is Icy followed by Darcy. My favorite Pixies are Chatta and Lockette.

Nintendo- mainly Pokémon above all else, followed by Animal Crossing. I have also played (mostly as player 2 or just never beat or watched my brother play) mario games, legend of zelda, pikmin, and kirby. Games I haven't played but I just liked the characters/the lore and probably learned about through Super Smash Bros. are Fire Emblem (Lucina mostly), Metroid (Samus and baby metroid), and Kid Icarus. Pokémon is where I'm most knowledgeable but you'll most likely beat me in battle. I am however great at MarioKart and I always destroy my friends at it. Terrible at fighting games though.

Minecraft- I like playing this casually. Sure, I'll play for hours and hours on end for months, but I prefer to stay exclusively in peaceful when playing Survival mode and I don't make anything too ambitious in Creative mode. I like to write, so sometimes I'll make a rough layout of the settings of my stories in different worlds. I prefer interior design and decorating when building, and when in survival mode I focus more on mining and gathering while my brother works on ambitious building projects. I just bring him the raw materials and furnish the interior when he finishes the outside.

Little Witch Academia- this takes up a smaller portion of my fandom list because there were only 2 seasons and a couple movies and I watched the whole series years ago, but I still enjoy it. At one point I wanted to cosplay Akko, and I loved the nod at Twilight through the Nightfall series. And I especially liked the twist that Shiny Chariot was Ursula, which I suspected for some time. The blend between magic and technology was fun to see, but I was so sad that the series ended RIGHT when Akko finally showed signs of magic proficiency. Also, Shiny Chariot being the reason Akko couldn't do magic was heartbreaking.

Voltron- this takes up a much smaller portion of my fandom list mainly because I haven't even finished it. I know hardly anything about Transformers aside from the Bumblebee movie so to me I just watch it for fun. It reminds me of power rangers, star wars, and star trek, and then there's just a transformer insert. But I don't know anything about Transformers so maybe the show is more rooted in canon than I think.

Coraline- I am in a love-hate relationship with Coraline. I have watched the movie several times, I've read the book, I've watched hours of theories and analyses on youtube, I've watched behind the scenes videos by Laika, and I even wrote a script for a fan film parody. I am amazed at how original the story is and how impressive the stop motion animation is but I also have recurring nightmares from it and it scares me/creeps me out to the max. If anyone asks what my scariness limit is, it's definitely Coraline.

[lilacs-with-lavender]

Slip Away Pt. 2

Kaz Brekker x Inej Ghafa

Read Pt. 1 here! Or read on Ao3 here!

Summary:

After a long year of putting slaver ships at the bottom of the ocean, Captain Inej Ghafa docks in Ketterdam for the first time in a long while. She tells herself she’s come back to take on some new crew, maybe visit a few old friends. But if Inej is being honest with herself Jesper’s last few letters have had her worrying about a certain bastard of the barrel, one she hasn’t heard from in months. One who’s rasping voice and light touches have haunted her dreams since she left.

WC: 2, 557

Warnings: nightmares, some heated touching, & lots of feels

Kaz was drowning, again. The water that filled his mouth tasted like sweet rotting death and he clawed at his throat. Desperate to be rid of it, to be free of the darkness that held him beneath the surface. He could never escape, it dragged him deeper and deeper until he could no longer thrash, he just opened his mouth in a silent scream. 

His last thoughts full of all he hadn’t done. Ketterdam’s king barrel boss was nothing in the face of what made him truly happy. Inej.

Her name was like a prayer gone unanswered within him, Inej who he wouldn’t let himself have. Inej who deserved better then him. Inej who had told him once when she thought he couldn’t hear that she loved him. 

Inej. Inej. Inej. 

His breathing grew erratic and all of a sudden the blackness of the dream was fading and he was blinking in the sunlight. Kaz’s brows knit in confusion, why wake from one nightmare only to come to in another dream? It couldn’t be anything other than a dream to wake up nose to nose with the one lovely face he’d been thinking of just moments before. 

But as the fuzziness of sleep faded Kaz started to notice the little things that no dream could capture correctly. Her hair had come down around her face, the end of that signature braid hanging over her waist and there was a birthmark above her collarbone that he liked to kiss.

And then her chest rose, and fell, and rose again. Kaz froze. Unable to tear his eyes away as her dark brows crinkled and moved, oil black lashes fluttering as she made a soft noise of contentment. He couldn't comprehend it, Inej, in Ketterdam, in his bed.

Before he act on the instinct to escape and get dressed however she opened her eyes fully, warm brown gaze dragging over his features carefully. It felt like a phantom touch, and when he couldn’t help himself any longer Kaz reached for her and with one slender finger, tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. She was really there. Sleepy and barefoot in his bed. 

“Inej…”

She reached out a finger to smooth the divot that had formed between his brows and Kaz shivered. Her touch was like an electric current, terrifying yet exciting, and he wanted- saints he wanted more of it. But he couldn’t for the life of him remember…

“You asked me to stay.”

He blinked, and she saw the confusion on his face, took it as a sign that he’d made a mistake last night and went to get out of bed. Kaz stopped her quickly, instinctively panicking at the thought of being without her again. 

Gulping nervously at the look she gave him when she settled back into bed Kaz tried to appear emotionless. “Did I… um did I say anything else?”

Inej grinned then, slow and cat-like so that he was both warmed by the sight and slightly terrified. “You said you missed me Kaz.”

He couldn’t help it, he spluttered, “I-I what?”

She sat up so that they were close once more and smiled at him again, radiant and backlit with golden light so that she looked like some ethereal goddess come to torture him or save him. He couldn’t decide which it was.

“You said you missed me,” she leaned in conspiratorially as if to whisper some great secret, “and I think you might have meant it.”

When she leaned back Kaz couldn’t help the grin that crept onto his face, enjoying the way her dark eyes widened at the sight of it. Before he could come up with a witty retort to divert attention away from just how much he’d missed her, however, Inej spoke more firmly. “And I suppose you have a perfectly good reason for refusing to see Jes and Wylan? Or getting so drunk I find you collapsed at your desk?”

Kaz winced, the last few months had been a blur of bills and whiskey. He rarely stayed sober for more than a day, but even with a drink or two he could still work, the alcohol was just to keep distracting thoughts at bay. Distracting thoughts about Inej at bay.

Yet here she was in his bed, lecturing him like the good old days, and where was he? Grinning like an idiot at the sight of her, arms crossed and braid loose against her back frowning at him. “Kaz!”

He snapped out of it, pretending he had not just been distracted by the way her hair glowed different shades of brown in the sun. “I was trying to forget.”

Her arms dropped to her side and Inej sighed, “How many times are we going to talk about this Kaz, there’s nothing wrong with thinking about things that make you happy.” 

He knew what she was implying, and she was right, nothing made him happier than thoughts of her. Her smile, her hair, her laugh. But he frowned all the same, no reason to let Inej know that such thoughts had him wishing he could sail away with her and leave Ketterdam behind. Those wild day dreams had become an almost daily occurrence and it was starting to scare him, his seventeen year old self had once thought that Ketterdam needed him as much as he needed the unforgiving city. 

But now? With the Dregs putting more and more indenture hoarding establishments like the Menagerie out of business and offering those on the streets opportunities for good work, he found himself yearning for something other than the long weeks of paperwork and intimidation tactics. Dirtyhands felt like a figurehead long forgotten and Kaz finally wanted something he could have. Frankly it terrified him.

“Do you ever think about what makes you happy at sea Wraith?”

It was a stupid question, a doubt he shouldn’t have let himself voice, but it was early and she was finally here with him, making him soft. She took a while to answer, and he kept his eyes fixed on the rumpled sheets that stretched between them until she answered. “I try not to,” she breathed out the next words in a frustrated huff, “thoughts of you are distracting.”

Kaz Brekker would be lying if that particular admission didn’t make his shriveled up heart beat out of his chest. Leave it to Inej to be completely honest. He felt a warm hand trailing up his arm then, and tracked its progress from his wrist to the Dregs tattoo. Even her hands enthralled him, so delicate, and yet he’d seen her use them to grip daggers and slit throats. 

And because he was a sick son of a bitch, that was the thought that had desire coursing through him. Before she could say anything else he let that desire spur him on, making the first move for once as his hand slid up her shoulder to cup her neck. The sensation of her skin against his was smooth and warm, nothing like the repulsive cold and wet he’d come to fear for so long. 

In fact he relished the tremor he felt run through her as his fingers caressed her jaw, they both knew it was unusual for him to initiate anything this intimate, so he appreciated the way she relaxed into his touch. Letting him know she was alright, that this was alright. 

“Do I make you happy Inej?”

His other hand went to the base of her braid, slipping it from the hair tie and watching as she closed her eyes, the dark waves fanning out around her shoulders in a way that convinced Kaz once more that Inej Ghafa was magic. She opened her eyes when his hand fit to the curve of her waist, her shirt riding up slightly as she spoke, her voice breathless, “You could.”

His hands stopped. He felt himself approaching the edge of the cliff again, the abyss waiting for him below full of possibilities and terrifying unknown variables. But also… Inej. He watched as the woman in front of him waited with eyes closed probably expecting, predicting, that now was when he left her. Pulled his gloves back on and turned away from her, from a future away from the Dregs.

Inej deserved better. He could try and be better, for her. 

Kaz let his hands drop to the bed, watching as she let out a breath, never disappointed, always waiting for him. Before Inej could open her eyes he kissed her. Hard.

Her mouth responded to his instantly, her arms held tightly at her side until his hand came to cup her jaw, and she twined both around his neck. Their foreheads were touching now and Kaz was aware of every place they touched, the heat from her skin and the slide of her tongue against his, consuming any anxiety like a flame. It had been too long since she’d touched him like this and when her fingers curled themselves in his hair he groaned into her mouth, no one drew that sound from him. No one but her. 

When they broke apart her hands didn’t leave his neck and he didn’t pull his forehead away from hers. Her eyes kept him steady, if the world was a stormy sea Inej’s eyes were land. 

“I leave in a fortnight.” 

Kaz startled slightly, pulling back to take in her closed off expression. He knew she was already preparing to leave him, readying herself. It made him sick with longing, the longing to be with her always. So much so that he blurted, “Can I come with you?”

Now it was Inej’s turn to startle, those pretty black lashes framing her wide eyes as she looked at him. He was rooted to their spot on the bed, hands resting on her elbows as his thoughts grew panicked. 

The sea is where she belongs. What do I offer that she doesn’t already have? Why would she want me there?

“You- you’re serious?”

He felt the darkness threatening, lapping at him like an encroaching tide, “It was a stupid question I-”

Inej laughed, the bright and beautiful sound that haunted his dreams erupted from her and she threw herself on top of him. Kaz was so surprised he fell backwards onto the bed, eyes wide as he stared at her on top of him, her smile lighting up his dark room. “It was not a stupid question. I’ve been waiting months for you to ask.”

His shock must have shown clearly on his face because she only laughed again. Kaz thought quite suddenly that he wanted to hear that sound every day for the rest of his life. “Oh, ok then.”

The words came out shaky but he knew Inej heard the small smile in them, her lips brushing his neck and trailing up to his jaw as he lay beneath her. He felt the rising heat of her skin as his hands came to rest on her waist, his eyes tracking her lips until she hovered directly above him. When he brought his mouth to hers Kaz thought quite suddenly that if there was one person he would be happy to touch for the rest of his life, it would be Inej Ghafa. 

~*~

Kaz woke to the rocking of the warship, it’s creaks and groans a familiar song that gently prodded him awake every morning. He wasn’t surprised to roll over and find himself alone in the captain’s cabin, Inej woke with the sun. Running a hand through mussed hair he pulled himself out of bed, pulling his boots and gloves on before stepping out onto the sun soaked deck. It had caused quite the bout of gossip when Captain Inej Ghafa brought back a friend to join the Wraith’s crew, and a male friend at that. Then there was trying to hide the fact that Kaz, despite having a hammock to himself below deck, spent just about every night on board in Inej’s arms.

Thankfully no one in Inej’s crew of rescued slaves and refugees was very judgemental of this fact, as far as they were concerned the first mate had told him, what the captain did in her free time was none of their business. But that didn’t stop Kaz from turning an embarrassing shade of pink when the crew called him “the captain’s Ketterdam man”.

He took in the sight of the calm sea and was relieved to spot Inej alone by the rail, the rest of the crew still below deck. The former gang boss took a moment to admire the way her braid danced behind her, her face tilted upward towards the sun as the ship sailed ahead. It still took his breath away, how in her element his wraith was at sea. It warmed Kaz to see her like this, warmed his soul in a way that made him believe he could be happy spending the rest of his life with her like this. Helping where he could, but letting someone else call the shots for once. “I can hear your breathing, being invisible is not your strength.”

He smiles slightly, she’s not wrong. “I was just enjoying the view, Captain.”

Kaz watched Inej shiver slightly at the title, they’d only been at sea a few weeks and she still hadn’t gotten used to him calling her by title, still insisting on Inej. But he loved watching her flush whenever he called her captain, it was so rare to see his stoic treasure perturbed by a simple title, who could really blame him for misusing it? “Are you going to come join me or have you still not found your sea legs Kaz.”

He smiled, how rude. It was true it had taken him an embarrassingly long time to get used to more than a few weeks at sea, but no matter, Inej had always been there. Kaz moved to the rail leaning so that they stood shoulder to shoulder looking out over the sea. He felt an overwhelming surge of gratitude then, at the realization of how happy he’d been these past weeks. “Thank you.”

Inej looked at him, a playful smile on her sunlit face. “For what?”

“For wanting me here.” 

He turned his face to hers and the smile that greeted him was so bright Kaz couldn’t look away.  “Never thought I’d see the day.” 

Wait she was laughing at him now. Kaz narrowed his eyes and nudged her. “What? Why are you laughing?” 

He didn’t want her to stop laughing now that she had started, dark hair blown out of her braid and lashes kissing her cheeks. “Oh nothing you’re just being so honest today, I never thought I’d see the day.”

Inej slid closer until Kaz looped both arms loosely around her waist. She was looking up at him more seriously now, her laughter having drifted away on the breeze. “I’ll always want you here Kaz, with me.”

Tension that he hadn’t noticed seeped from his shoulders at that, a small sigh leaving him when she brought one hand to his face. His voice was shaky when he spoke. “Good. That’s where I want to be.”

Inej smiled, that warm soft smile that made his chest hurt and Kaz couldn’t not lean in and kiss her soundly. 

~*~

Guys this was SO hard to end and I’m still not happy with the ending so please tell me how I did :’) 

Don’t forget to come say hi on ao3 and leave a comment or reblog this post! ~ Love Liles

[blazenekofox]

The Blight-sìth

one night a 14 year old Luz was lost in the woods she sees a cute green cat like demon that stands on long legs has a brown pach on it's chest, it has a cat skull on it's face, with long green bushy hair and a longer tail with a brown patch on the end, Luz is amazing watching it till the tall demon sees her and runs off, Luz runs after it but it seems too fast, Luz runs till she reaches her home, not seeing the cat anywhere she runs in to tell her mum, sadly for Luz, Camila just thinks Luz was seeing things, and gets told off for playing in the woods, Luz can see that Camila was just worried that Luz might of gotten lost or hurt, a few days later at in arts and craft she made something that looked like the cat demon she saw, sadly this type of stuff is the reason no one likes her and believing that she seen it makes her more of an outcast.

She starts going into those woods to prove that she isn't making it up, and for people to stop treating her like an oddball but for 2 years of serching nothing, till one night she finds someone sitting in a tree, calling up too the person, when the person looks down Luz thinks she sees something like cat ears, and the person's eyes glistens like gold in the moon light, when the person jumps down, shocking Luz, as that tree was vary large it didn't seem possible, the girl just stares at her, and Luz hart beets faster, the girl is short but has long legs, she's has ripped black stockings, a black bracelet with studs on one wrist a pink dress under a black denim jacket with even more metal studs, looking up she sees long green bushy hair with brown roots, but no cat ears, must have been a trick of the light, and when Luz looks into those beautiful golden cat like eyes, Luz just loses herself in them, she can't seem to look away till the short girl says something, Luz shacks her head “what”, on he look back her eyes weren't cat like, with a sighs the green headed one says "I asked what do you want" she sounded annoyed with being bothered, but Luz didn't notice and blushes at the Scottish accent coming from her lips it was so cute, Luz scratches the back of her head and introduce herself nervously “s-sorry emm I am, I mean I'm Luz” Luz smiles like she has no confidence, this makes the other girl giggle, Luz goes redder at this and the girl replies "Amity" putting her hand out Luz smiles shacking it worrying about her sweaty hand thinking on what to say forgetting why she called her down “sooo err what where you doing up a tree this late at night” “I was reading this” showing the book she was reading “till someone rudely interrupted me” Amity was just messing but this Luz blushes “right sorry” Luz shyly looks at the book and sees that it's The Good Witch Azura, Luz gets a big grin at this, grabbing Amity's hand and starts excitedly asking about Azura like favourite character, does she have any ships, has she read them all, seen the movies, Amity blushes at the cuteness with a reply “Hecate I feel like there is more to her but I only read up too the 4th book, humm my favourite ship would have to be a steamboat I guess (need something better for this), I'm not a fan of water, so haven't thought about it, and I've only seen 3 of the movies” when looking back at Luz, she can see the tall dark skin girl is trying to hid her giggling like Amity said something wrong Amity stares at Luz darkly face going red “what!” “I didn't mean boats, I meant romantic shipping”, Amity looks at her oddly “I don't remember there being romance in Azura” Luz is shocked, then thinking it must not be a Scottish and explains it, the 2 get too talking till it's past 12 at night.

Amily smiles at Luz seeing that Luz is tired, this making Luz's hart beat out loud, “it's getting late, shouldn't you run off home?” Luz looking at her phone, “shit!” looking “I-I better go bye” just as she starts too run,  then stops like she forgot something and back, Amity looking at her oddly Luz looks embarrassed “sorry but this is going to sound odd, have you seen a green cat, it's stands on 2 legs and and has a skull on it's face” Amity tilts to the side “no I have not seen the Blight-sìth”  “oh thanks, it's a real cutie so tell me if you see it” happy that this girl didn't make fun of her, she also sees that the girl has gone deep red “oh and next time we meet, I bring the 5th Azura book” Luz runs back waving bye and Amity waves back, it isn't till she gets home that she realizes she didn't get the cut girls number, but she smiles happily, when she gets too bed and closes her eyes with thoughts of that cute girl and just about too fall asleep, when her eyes open wide, she named the demon, how did Luz miss this, next time they meet she needs ask her about the Bight-sìth.

Luz thinking Bight-sìth is not a miss spelling, I wanted Luz to say the wrong name, did want to write Amity with a Scottish accent, but I can't write accents, so everyone has English even if it's not set in England X3

was going to base it on King, but as a cat, but looking up cat demons I ran into Cat-sìth, and I adore the Scottish accent, so I mixed them <3 made Amity as tall as Beta Amity, but she looks tall, until she stands next to someone.

I had a thought of a Beta Cat Amity reading a book on a tree near a house that's on fire, so I think I make Blight-sìth the size of Beta Amity, this makes Amity seem evil, but I think that's a good idea, so her folklore makes her seem like an evil cat demon, but in reality she punishes the wicked, Luz looking it up after getting it's name, wonders why would an evil cat demon, not hurt her, but help her.

[buccigang-headcanons]

La Squadra Backstories!!!! Stream of consciousnesss style!

So literally I just sat down and wrote down exactly what I thought. I have not edited these at all lmaooo. But I made long drawn out backstories for our underrated assassins so enjoy!!

T/W + C/W - idk I talk about people dying in a lot of ways. Child abuse, drugs, severe illness, dead cats. This stuff is a mess I really didn’t censor it. But nothing is described in detail cuz I’m too lazy for that.

————

Prosciutto cuz he’s at the top of my mind. Mmkay he and Pesci are brothers but not by blood. Pro was an orphan, I still wanna make him Russian, and pesci’s extremely kind and gentle family adopted him when he was like 7. They were like literally a garden catalogue family. Perfection. The parents died when pro was like 15, Pesci was 13?? Idk the age difference I’m just making shit up now. And Pesci had no fucking idea what to do, they didn’t have any other family, and pro was like “I’m still basically a hardened criminal from living on the streets of russia most of my childhood, so joining the local mafia should be a piece of cake”. It was.

Risotto..... fuck it. Polpo is risottos dad. I’ve seen that so much and fuck it I’m here for it now. Idk how I feel about the whole Mariah from part 3 being his mom that seems too coincidental. But either way, he is half Spanish. I don’t think he’s ever been in touch with his Spanish roots at all, but that’s what he is. Polpo had too much fun on vacay in Spain. But it was a once night stand and polpo, a skinny king back in the mid 70s, fucked off to do mafia stuff and didn’t know about this kid. Risotto never knew his father. Time goes by, about the time he’s 10, rizzo’s mom moves to Italy to find the man she once loved. Since the 70s, she has been married and divorced 4 times, disowned by her entire family, and she speaks only of Polpo, the man who swept her off her feet and then disappeared into the night. Leaving only this child with his matching eyes. So they live in Italy, risotto is about 13 now and his mom has been searching seriously for polpo for about 3 years. One day, she gets too close, mafia takes her out. Risotto is all alone in a country he has lived in for less than 3 years. So he decides to take revenge against the mafia. He goes to hunt them down. (I’m too lazy to write out how. Gets a gun. Basically the scene in part 5 where the kid is like “you killed my father and now I’m gonna kill you!!” But he chickens out???) yeah except rizzo didn’t chicken out, he stood firm and killed 2 of them. The other 2 surrendered, and immediately asked rizzo to take polpos test. He did. And he unknowingly met his father, the man his mother had died looking for. He stared into his fathers eyes, black sclera reflecting each other, and passed his test with ease.

Wowwwwwwwww alrighty then that was something. Let’s shake out those jitters because fuck that was intense and let’s move onto some happy shit.

Melone!! Always a bottle of joy. He was a phenomenal student, a perfect child. Perfect grades, perfect attitude, perfect looks. Onlyyyy tiny thing is he murdered cats and buried their heads in the back yard. But that was his only flaw. Aaaaaaaand mayyybe trying to use his extensive knowledge of molecular biology and genetics (even at as young as 11) to asexually breed said cats.

But, apart from that, absolutely perfect specimen of a young boy. And he kept that up until college. Until the rape accusation. Melone had no interest in having sex with her, he swore under oath in open court, he only wanted to “extract her essence” in the hopes of making her amazing genetics stay pure for centuries.

Due to his previously amazing school record, he was allowed to plead not guilty by reason of insanity (because the justice system is bullshit) and was released to his parents. During this whole process, Melone’s mother had begun to grow suspicious of her son, wondering if there was something wrong with him. This led her to explore the crawl space under the garage, more commonly known as “Melone’s childhood laboratory”. The cat skulls alone were enough to set her off. They allowed him into their home long enough to fool the court, but parole officers don’t pay attention, and they kicked him to the curb a month later. Broke, alone, and with no real skills other than his genius mind and gorgeous body, he became a prostitute. It was only a few months before he wandered up to a gigantic white haired man with angry eyes and asked if he wanted a date. Instead of declining, our good ol rizzo just knocked him out cold and brought him home. The rest is history. Literally because I can’t think of what would happen between that and Melone joining the mafia. I assume he was just their house pet for a little while before he decided he wanted a stand too.

Oh good lord these are getting insane. Better keep going. Okay I have no idea what’s about to come out of my head for ghia but oh Lordy. Might as well start. Ghiaccio wasn’t always quite as angry, but it’s actually gonna be a sweet story. Kinda. He used to act perfect, even tho he always felt the anger inside. He was forced to bottle it up and put on a happy exterior always. His mother was Belgian. (From experience, Belgian mothers (Flemish in particular) will beat you until your ass is raw if you talk back). Italian father, they lived in italy. He had 4 sisters, he was the middle child of 5. Around high school, he started acting out. Of course this was due to all of his bottled up anger from the past 15 years. 4 shattered sinks, 16 holes in the drywall, and one classroom fire later, Ghiaccio was expelled from school. His parents were too busy brimming with joy about the success of all his sisters that they didn’t take much notice to him. “If you’re going to behave in such a manner you might as well leave” his mother said. She was past the point of caring enough to beat him. So he left. 16 and with no where to go, he wandered the streets. After a year or so, Ghia had gotten used to that life, and was angry at everyone, sometimes when he wasn’t even angry. Anger had become his coping mechanism. Screaming was easier than talking. Until one day, he screamed at a blonde man in an intersection. Prosciutto was driving back to the squads hang out, boxes of takeout in the back seat of the car. He had chosen to not stop at the red light, just for fun, and nearly ran into our blue haired teenager. Ghia proceeded to cuss him out for a good 4 minutes in the middle of this intersection before pro cut him off. “Get in the back. “ he said, with his own special brand of brotherly love. “I know how you can put that anger to good use”. Ghiaccio, having no real reason to object, got in the back seat. Prosciutto was silent the rest of the drive and Ghiaccio yelled about all the take out food, now splattered on the backs of the seats due to the sudden slam on the brakes.

Y’all I don’t even remember the other la squadra members. Let’s do sorbet/gelato because they have zero backstory or personality so I can just ramble. *Clears throat* let’s begin. These fuckers. Friends since birth. Grew up together, always really close. They were both dirt poor, but because the only school nearby was a decent public school, when were able to slightly experience middle class living. They liked it. They wanted to see upper class, and once they did, they wanted to be there. These two were money grubbing bffs, I’m talking josuke and okuyasu, but like waaaaay more intense and also violent. They both left home around 14, together of course. Gelatos father had left them a few years prior, and his family were on the brink of starvation. Figuring they didn’t need another mouth to feed (and completely abandoning his post as family patriarch lol) he left with sorbet, who’s family had all died in various ways over the years. Most recently, his older sister being taken by some illness that was probably easily treatable, but with no means for a doctor, she died in days. The boys left home and school, and made a living by pickpocketing tourists and occasionally launching into larger heists. They made a decent living for themselves, but eventually started spending their money on drugs. It’s was sorbet first, heroin was really good to him for awhile. Gelato was against it, knowing it was the reason sorbets family had been so poor to begin with. His father was an addict, and despite holding down a job fairly well, spent all his earnings on drugs. Eventually he became too dependent, lost his job, and OD’d. But around this same time, when the boys were 16/17, they were starting to realize their feelings for each other. Confused teenaged minds full of budding love led to Gelato giving in, and soon their days were filled with heroin fueled ecstatic sex. They lived like this for awhile, existing in half reality, until one day they chose to set their pickpocketing targets on a short man with close cropped gray hair. The plan was perfect, sorbet bumped into the man and gelato passed by to grab his wallet, and suddenly they were the size of mere ants. In an instant, they were returned to size, left to wonder if it was real or just a hallucination from long term drug use. But they didn’t run. Formaggio introduced himself, with a loose handshake and a pause to spit out some tobacco, and promptly invited them to a “party”. Although, Formaggio was honest in his promise, this party did have drugs.

Cheese boys turn!! Seriously who am I forgetting??? Illuso my mirror man! Am I forgetting someone else too?? Idk. But shut up Kel it’s cheese boys turn.

So. Formaggio. Probably the most chill childhood. Lower middle class, pretty average, but he was quite gifted with sports. Soccer was his main, and also a fantastic competitive swimmer. (Okay I have a separate hc that Bruno is really good at soccer so hol horse up a moment so I can imagine those 2 playing soccer together in friendly competition. In my lil au where Bruno is in la squadra because I say BruPro exes rights please and thanks.) but anyway, he got really good at soccer and was offered a scholarship to play at a fancy pants private high school when he was 14. Of course his parents made him go, this has been the family’s dream for years, and formaggio’s as well. So high school is amazing, he’s starting to attract attention from universities even tho he’s barely in grade 11 by this point. And it’s all really amazing until he realizes. This isn’t what he wants. And it’s just that. He doesn’t want to play soccer anymore, he doesn’t want to potentially be famous. He just wants to be a kid. So he leaves school, he leaves home, he wants to start over. And he wanders into a diner and sees this small group of weirdly dressed men. At this point, it’s rizzo, pro, Pesci, and ghia. And he’s staring at them because they’re dressed like circus clowns but their aura is so murderous. And then the one who looks like a giant pineapple starts staring back. Pesci gets up and walks over to Formaggio. “I know you! You’re that amazing kid soccer player!!” And he just goes on and on about shit he read in the news (70% of it was false) until pro comes over and yanks his idiot brother away. Pro starts asking Formaggio questions, thinking he could be a good target. Stupid little rich kid. But to prosciuttos surpise, Formaggio is just a down to earth kid with no more money to his name than he needs to pay for this meal. Prosciutto takes him home after that. He doesn’t really offer any explanation.

(The rambling at the beginning of this paragraph actually happened lol so I paused for like 4 hrs oops)

Alright we are back. Had to leave to go to therapy and then scream at my mother and cry to my boyfriend but we are ready to go! Illuso and I really hope he’s the last one and I’m not forgetting one. Illuso was raised in an orphanage from infancy. No idea who his parents could even be. Fun fact: one of the nuns at the orphanage (cuz it’s an orphanage in Italy in 1980, they’re catholic.) nicknamed him Illuso because he was always pointing at things that weren’t there. As a tiny baby and a child, he would always be looking at things no one else can see (yes illuso is a natural stand user fight me). The nuns called him illuso as an insult, hoping to shame him into stopping. He never did. When he outgrew the orphanage, he decided to join the priesthood. He was 19, a priest in training, when the mafia came to the orphanage. They were collecting, and illuso knew they didn’t have the money this month. He tried to talk the mobsters down, but that went about as well as planned. 4 bullets to the chest, 3 open heart surgeries, and half a dozen resuscitations later, Illuso was released from the hospital. The orphanage had been shut down, and no one knew what had happened to the children or the nuns. With no where to go, illuso knew of one place that could use talents like his. The talents of steadily stealing money from the starving children of the church for a decade. It was during polpos test that illuso’s stand manifested. Not due to the arrow, but to protect its user from the other stand. Illuso was able to avoid Black Sabbath by hiding in his newfound mirror world until it was time to return the lighter to polpo (kinda cowardly but whatever.) he was assigned to risottos group by chance and was the last to join excluding Melone. But they loved him as if they had found him themselves.

[aros001]

Going in blind: Watching season 2 for the first time. Random thoughts.

Huh. Only 7 episodes. Not complaining necessarily. For series with an ongoing plot I've definitely become more in favor with their seasons only having as many episodes as they need rather than them having to stretch themselves out to full up a certain number of episodes, which can lead to padding and just bad character moments.

Episode 1: Jeez. Catra visiting Shadow Weaver's cell just to rub her success in her face and verbally abuse her back for once. It's like a twisted version of Zuko and Ozai from ATLA. Catra's upbringing under her was abusive but this is far from a healthy way for her to deal with it. She's basically deliberately swimming in her resentment.

Episode 2: It's not that I'm rooting for her but by-golly was it fun to watch Catra act like just the absolute worst she could while she was Glimmer and Bow's captive.

I touched on this in season 1 but part of the drama of the heroes feeling guilt over leaving Entrapta behind is kind of lost on me a bit simply because it was her own fault it happened. She deliberately went back into the purge room because of her machine obsession, which then closed on her and erupted in flames. It was more than reasonable to assume she was dead and no one but her was to blame, so I'm not really able to be invested in their guilt over it.

That said, weirdly enough I do like that her "abandonment" doesn't seem to be even a blip on the radar for Entrapta herself. She hasn't joined the horde because she resents the heroes or felt left behind, she simply is so obsessed with machines and experimentation that she'll be on the side of whoever lets her do the most of that. Like, it's selfish and irresponsible but it's very in-character and I'd far rather have a traitor motivation be based in that over something stupid like a misunderstanding.

Episode 3: I love the mental image of Shadow Weaver thinking up princess-themed ghost stories to tell Adora as a child.

So, if the previous She-Ra Mara separated Eternia from the other realms/planets/whatever she did and that's what cut off the She-Ra line for 1000 years, I'm guessing Hordak may be from the time before that happened, thus his drive to create portals and calling Eternia a backwards world. Either he's naturally long-lived or his technology is extending his life.

Episode 4: You know, you could maybe argue it was vague enough that it could be taken other ways but I'm definitely getting some vibes here that Scorpia is crushing on Catra. She literally refers to the two of them as soulmates at one point. I know she says she's trying to be friends but this feels a level beyond that.

Fun little reference to the original She-Ra cartoon thrown in there (and maybe Cowboy Bebop...? James Bond...? What was Glimmer's art style supposed to be?). I like how it is more like just playful ribbing than anything outright dumping on the original. Again, I've never seen original She-Ra but whenever remakes/adaptations go out of their way to trash to the original I always kind of wonder why they bothered doing an adaptation if the original is just that bad? Also, I was having trouble sleeping so it was about 2am when I watched this episode and the very Eartha Kitt Catwoman Catra made it very difficult for me not to lose my **** and stay quiet. With how much of a contrast that version is from the one in this series, that was hilarious. Bonus note, it's a nice touch that Frosta's version of Catra is a pretty crasher in that sweet suit, since that's the only impression of Catra she's ever had.

Adora being a chosen one is definitely elevated up simply by how much the pressure of what she's supposed to be is getting to her. I'm likely going to keep making Avatar The Last Airbender comparisons throughout the series but that's partly because I went into this series figuring it'd be at least structured similar to ATLA (season 1 being more episodic and a little more kid-friendly as it builds up the world before getting more serious later). Adora and Aang are interesting to compare here. Aang's worries early on were less apparent because he was more in-denial/choosing not to think about his problems that much, which fit with his character as a free-spirited Air Nomad. While Adora is much more military-minded. She can't keep herself from thinking about her problems and trying to prepare for the worst-case scenario. And jeez, that idea of who/how Catra is in her mind. Not only beating her but making her watch as she takes everything she cares about away. Not Shadow Weaver, not Lord Hordak, but Catra. That whole Lion King Mufasa/Scar moment between them in episode 11 and their fight in the S1 finale really did a number on her mental image of her old friend. Not reasonably so.

Minor note: I'm sure I'm the only one who got this impression but by the look of it, the way the robot's eye moved, and the music, after getting the soda spilled on it that little spybot gained sentience for half a second and then immediately died. It was so darkly comedic I had to laugh.

Episode 5: So that red disc is basically She-Ra's Red Kryptonite, having an effect on the mind rather than the body. The drunk Adora joke doesn't really do it for me but it did get some nice interactions going between Scorpia and Sea Hawk, two characters I certainly wasn't expecting to bond. I did really like Catra's panic when berserker She-Ra nearly beheads her. The implication is that is Adora really wanted to kill her Catra would already probably be dead. It's a thing I like about powerhouse characters like Superman or Aang, who could just demolish everything around them and don't simply because they're a good person...which in turn makes them the scariest person on the planet when they're well and truly ticked off. I'm not going to lie, I do kind of want to see a She-Ra version of Aang when Appa was stolen or when Superman fought The Elite.

Also, Catra's line of "I have control over Adora. I'm not giving that up for anything.". There's a lot to read into there.

Episode 6: I guess my prediction was sort of right. Shadow Weaver became basically a magic parasite and while it did increase the power she's capable of the implication seems to be that she needs a constant fix of magic to keep herself going, thus her attachment to the Black Garnet.

Have we seen Micah before? Given how long ago the flashback seems set, the fact that Shadow Weaver didn't kill him and thus he probably becomes someone important later in life, I'm guessing he's Glimmer's dad and the queen's late husband, since I think he's the only important male character whose face we haven't seen yet. Also, he's voice by Ezra from Star Wars Rebels and that cracks me up for some reason. It's the exact same voice and a relatively similar character.

I compared Catra and Shadow Weaver with a kind of twisted version of Zuko and Ozai and that definitely still fits here. Both Catra and Zuko confront their parent and call them out for the inexcusable abuse they put them through but while that moment was the start of Zuko's upwards journey this and SW's betrayal seems like it's going to cause Catra to spiral even further. Makes sense why Adora leaving affected her so much. She's probably the only one Catra's ever had that she could consistently trust and rely on, even if she did somewhat resent her.

Not surprised Hordak is getting along with Entrapta. She's not socially aware enough to be scared or intimidated by him, so she'll speak frankly, and since all she wants to talk about is the machines, experiments, and how they could get them to work Hordak probably doesn't take much issue with that. She's producing results, which is what he cares about, thus also why Shadow Weaver and Catra started losing favor with him. I wonder if Catra is going through imposter syndrome? Shadow Weaver had that line that Entrapta earned her place next to Hordak and, if you think about it, Catra hasn't really "earned" anything. We saw that she didn't really take her training or studies that seriously, showing up late to combat practice and even getting partial credit for what Adora beat. She wasn't promoted to Force Captain because of her own abilities but because Adora had defected when she was supposed to get that title. She's come close to a few victories but never really had any except for Glimmer and Bow's kidnapping...whom she then basically let escape when she returned Adora's sword to her. She doesn't have the slightest clue how the horde's bureaucracy works when trying to get things done, like simply getting troops armor. Given how much better than her Adora always was and how little she herself has to her name, I wonder is subconsciously Catra believes she doesn't deserve her current position and thus why she's fretting so much over trying to prove herself.

Episode 7: Am I mistaken or did Bow's parents say that he's the youngest of TWELVE siblings? I was going to ask whether Bow was adopted or if his dad's used a surrogate or if maybe there's even just simply magic in She-Ra's world that allows two people of the same sex to have a child together but now I'm just focused on the 12 kids thing. I get nervous just imagining myself having more than one. You should see me when I'm with two cats. I have to pet both of them because I'd feel like I'd be making one feel left out and like the other is the favorite. I'm a mess with kids.

The dad with dreadlocks (Lance?), his design looked familiar to me and I finally realized it reminded me a of a fanart design for a human Grim from The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy. Very different voices between those two characters though.

I wonder if there's any significance to the robot protecting the crystal having the same design as those in the artic in episode 5? Obviously both have the connection to the First Ones but the robot in the forest who was also protecting First Ones' tech had a more insect-like design over these more worm/Graboid ones.

I'm kind of curious what Hordak would have done if Catra had told the truth. Given his interactions with her and Shadow Weaver he doesn't seem like the time to tolerate failure but I suppose the implication here is that he at least would respect those who own up to their failures. Or I suppose more simply he was just testing to see if she would lie to him and since she did there's little merit in keeping her in a position of authority anymore where she could lie about important things again.

Season 2 verdict: Still enjoying it. Another person on this reddit recommended I view seasons 2 and 3 as one since they are basically just one season split in two. I was going to do that but this ended up longer than I thought I would, so I'll just do 2 and 3 separate to keep them semi-organized and easier to read.

I think overall Catra is my favorite character since she has the most interesting backstory, interactions, and just general path through the story out of everyone. She's like Pearl from Steven Universe or, well, Zuko. There's just so much baggage there that she's trying and kind of failing to deal with. I'm always invested in whatever's happening when she's onscreen. Hordak so far is a good big boss villain for Adora to face but Catra is a good archenemy for her.

Original Reddit post: https://www.reddit.com/r/PrincessesOfPower/comments/o027y3/going_in_blind_watching_season_2_for_the_first/

[that-random-chaos-entity]

Nehetari stood opposite this... ..."wolfish" human, regarding him and his extended hand. Then she grasped it firmly. In an old life, the grip in that hand could have crushed her arm like the thresher beetles used to crush the reeds along the Great Oasis. But so could Perturabo's, so she did not feel uneasy. If she even WOULD have felt uneasy.

But when she looked up to meet his gaze, his expression could not have been more different from the Iron titan that she had grown so close to. This "Leman Russ's" face was alight with the fire of excitement. Excitement, and they joy of one who feels they have found a true kindred spirit in the most unlikely of places.

"My history has earned respect from you." Nehetari stated. An observation, quivering on the edge of a question.

"'Tis only a REAL king who will down a keg and throw hands with their people, then be willin teh lead 'em inta battle from the front next day."

"One would think that a necessity for leading any group of individuals effectively."

"Ye'd be surprised. It's not a real common thing in the galaxy nowadays," the wolf-human mused. Then his expression turned serious, and the Mehlrose felt the twinge of psychic scrutiny brush along her psyche. Light as a feather, or more like the long hairs on the hide of some animal.

"If yer willin teh dance on a table drunk with every man, woman, and child, whether it be in a banquet or a roadside tavern, walk through teh maw of Morkai himself, an ice storm or one of yer rough lookin' deserts, to save an old, hobbled raisin of yer people, just because he's yer people... ...If these tales be true, if yer people's planet was as ye say, if ye have truly suffered as much as ye say, yet yeh can still feel such joy; such FIRE as I see in your eyes... ...well, I must admit, I respect teh cut of yer claws, xenos."

The cut of her... ...Nehetari removed her hand from the clasped-arm-goodwill-gesture and examined her claws carefully for a moment; an action that caused the large, furry beast of a human to let out a deep belly laugh, and turned Perturabo's obviously jealous glare into a eye-roll so intense it looked as if his eyes might abandon his skull entirely.

An outpouring of noise drew all eyes back to the black crystal's display. Two Necrontyr now stood atop the sandstone-like platform; their identical forms and features making it seem as if one was dancing with a full-body mirror. They swirled and stamped and belted out songs in Necrontyr, punctuated every once in a while by a swig from one of the great brown gourd-like containers at their sides. Rhythmic cheers enhanced their steps and arm movements, and Nehetari herself could be seen, looking about the same in the vid as she looked now, clapping in rhythm. She daintily kept time with her hands and was SMILING. Laughing even, when one of the two twin warriors accidentally planted his foot into her plate of food and slipped, narrowly missing landing on her as he tumbled. There was a DEAFENING silence, before the thin bell of her laughter caused a ripple of mirth to hesitantly start, then sweep the hall like a gale. The dancing continued, and more feet began to strike the ground as the drink took hold, and others joined in.

However, before too long, a series of other sounds could be heard; rhythmic metal taps exactly in time to the music, but they did not seem to be coming from the display. They turned to see two of her guard doing the same dance. Metal though they were, corrupted by the flayer virus though they were, their build and features were unmistakable. They were a perfect copy of eachother, and both Leman and Perturabo knew at once that, at one time, these were the same two displayed from the crystal.

"So then those are Kefi and Sefi?" Perturabo said, gesturing to the two fools in the vid, apologizing profusely and near falling over, so hard were trying to get some sort of mashed root vegetable off the one's bare feet. "THAT'S what they used to look like?"

"Kefi and Sefi, is it?" Leman moved from Nehetari's right flank to approach the still-dancing necrons. They detected his advent and stopped, giving a hiss of alarm and diving, but too late as the massive human swept them up into a headlock, laughing. "Aw, C'MON ye boney lot! I like yer style! I'd almost say I'd like to share a drink with ye, if yeh could still drink. It's good to see at least some xenos know how teh have some REAL fun!"

Perturabo was too beside himself to feel irritated at his brother's antics, or relieved that he was no longer holding onto Nehetari's shoulder. Leman. His brother LEMAN, was playing around with two NECRONS. FLAYED ONES no less. Was he that lonely without his sons? Desperate enough to pal around with xenos, just because they reminded him of his space wolves? With some amusement he watched as the two necrons squealed and scrabbled to get away, then seemingly became bemused and looked to Nehetari for approval; like baby animals to their mother.

Nehetari's face was neutral, but her eyes sparkled. She inclined her head in a silent, "Well go on then."

Two metallic heads turned to look at their assailant. And as one, they both spoke. It was in the most GRAVELLY of Necrontyr and thick with the flayer curse, but their translator scarabs intoned:

"Do you enjoy pharos scorpion honey mead?"

The Wolf King laughed so loud it rattled their carapaces.

"Well I don't know what 'pharos scorpion honey,' is, but I know mead and I LOVE IT!" He boomed, and just like that the tension was broken. They began to jabber at eachother about various drinks, about festivals and adventures of grandeur, and foods of exotic and mouth-watering nature.

Nehetari took the opportunity to slink over to where Perturabo stood. She did not speak; she knew he was upset with her, so she stood close and waited for him to give her a piece of his mind.

She did not wait long.

"I thought I told you to stay away from Russ.," he snarled.

Nehetari did not miss a beat. "You did. And I ignored you."

Perturabo whirled on her. "WHY!?"

"Because I must make my own conclusions."

"Tch! Of course, that's right. What I think be damned, you just can't stop yourself from making friends with everyone you can, can't you? Even when they've tormented me for most of my life."

"What better way to stop them tormenting you than to earn their respect, then use that respect to stop their abuse?"

Perturabo snorted. "Oh, is that your plan is it? What, do you think you're going to suddenly solve all my family issues by making friends with everyone?"

For a moment Perturabo thought he'd said the wrong thing, as Nehetari's neutral expression crumpled and she wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"No, your family is irreparable," she stated bluntly. "Also, your father disgusts me, your brother Mortarion disgusts me, your brother Alpharius confuses me, and your brother Rogal Dorn is boring. I have no desire to 'make friends' with them."

The Lord of Iron's next counter-argument died on his lips, and he couldn't help barking out a laugh.

"Fair enough I suppose. Wait, when did you meet Alpharius?"

"In the hallway. He bowed, said 'I am Alpharius,' shushed me, then vanished behind a painting."

"That's... ...concerning..." Perturabo muttered. "In any case, I don't want you getting chummy with my other brother's either. Nothing good can come of it."

Jealousy was all but dripping off that statement, but Nehetari did not comment on it. "Do not worry," she rubbed her head affectionately against his shoulder in a very cat-like manner, "I will not trade you for any of them."

"Quit it," The primarch growled, covering his face, but he did not move away. "...even Sanguinius?"

"Of course not. He smells like wet poultry. Also, despite what my father says, I'm certain he fancies him. He's certainly his 'type,' at least when it comes to-"

Perturabo's eyes flashed wide and he clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Do you want to fucking die!? You don't just say shit about Sanguinius!" But he couldn't help the faintest smile. At least he didn't have to feel jealous about ONE of his brothers.

...but still, the mental image of the Lanky Llama and Leman clasping arms made his gorge rise.

"Come, we are going back to the promethium forge," he growled with a finality that left no room for argument.

Nehetari nodded once. "As you wish." Then she followed him out of the hall.

The crystal, having been left behind in the rush, clattered to the floor, just before it was picked up by the Lord of Wolves.

[snusbandxknifewife]

So @the-chick-of-the-air mentioned something about wanting to know what Cardan said to Randalin and I haven’t been able to get it out of my head since. This is my attempt at writing what went down during that conversation, I hope you all like it!

~~~~

As Cardan Greenbriar drags his advisor into a separate room, all hints of a spoiled faerie boy are gone, replaced completely by the grace and danger of a High King who has been faced with treason.

“What vile, worm-hearted god spoke in your ear and gave you even the faintest idea that it was appropriate to enter the room of your wounded queen?” He hisses in the larger man’s ear. “And how, pray tell, did it convince you to stoop low enough to then question her sovereignty?”

A colossal, thorn-covered vine sprouts from the stone floor by the chamber door, actively shattering a brick as it moves to slam the door shut.

Randalin visibly swallows. “Your Majesty, please—“

“I must admit, Randalin, I thought you wiser than that,” Cardan continues. “I thought that you, for all your sniveling and spinelessness, would have enough foresight to see that your little plan could’ve never succeeded.”

The delicate pink roses in their little porcelain pot, set on the windowsill to capture sunlight, wither and die. Where their rotting petals fall, nightshade rises.

“I would’ve thought you would know my wife would never back down from a challenge. Especially one put forward by such a cowardly and insignificant man as you.”

Randalin stands, rooted to the floor by brambles growing over his feet, their thorns digging aggressively into his leather shoes. He watches, unable to move, as the boy king walks to where a cask of wine has been left on a table.

Cardan forgoes a goblet, instead gripping the neck of the wine bottle between his lithe fingers and turning it up, his eyes never leaving his advisor as he takes a long drink. When he sets the cask back down, wine as red as blood drips from his lips and down his chin, staining his moon-pale skin the same way castoff stains a wall during a murder.

“I would’ve thought you would realize that, even if it had worked, I’d find out about your meddling.” His voice is deadly quiet, his eyes swirling like whirlpools. “And I surely would’ve thought you smart enough to realize I wouldn’t appreciate someone taking away the woman I worked so hard to get back.”

“Your Majesty—“

“Have you ever been in love, Randalin?” Cardan cuts him off, his head tilting to the side and causing a stray drop of wine to fall onto his undershirt. “Have you ever looked into the eyes of another and felt your heart stop? Known that, as long as you live, no one will command your thoughts as this person does now?”

He steps closer, his boots clicking against the stone floor and the brambles at Randalin’s feet tightening with each step.

“Have you ever been given love, against all odds, and lost it?” He whispers in the shell of his advisor’s ear, a growl low in his throat as he does. “And were you then given that love back, only to find that someone you’re meant to trust is trying to rip it away once more?”

“The people of Elfhame will never accept a human queen.” Randalin tries, his face reddening with pain as a thorn succeeds in working its way through his shoe and into his toe.

“The people of Elfhame can all be damned.” Cardan smiles wolfishly, stepping back so he can loom over his foolish council member. “The land has chosen her, and it is the land’s support that proves a ruler’s worth here in Faerie.”

“Just because she said she was healed with the land’s help doesn’t mean we can believe her. Humans are liars, Your Majesty.”

Cardan Greenbriar walks away and turns towards the window, towards the land he and his wife will rule over until they choose for it to be otherwise. Beyond the gentle swaying of the curtains, a robin flaps by and the stars twinkle with the light of a thousand little suns.

“If you do not believe your queen’s word, believe Grima Mog, for she saw it happen.” The High King announces as he continues to look out the window, leaving the council member sweating behind him. “Jude stuffed her gutted belly full of soil and Elfhame chose to heal her. Flowers grew from the ground where her blood fell. The land answers to her, as it does to me.”

Randalin’s eyes widen. A human, a mortal with magic gifted by the land—

“How many people do you think my wife has murdered, Randalin?” Cardan’s voice is soft, the tone of a boy in love talking about his partner’s knack for making flower crowns. Not the voice of a ruler discussing his queen’s violent tendencies.

“I’m well aware that Lady Jude is—“

“High Queen Jude.” Cardan corrects, his voice void of all softness once more. “She is High Queen Jude. If you refer to her as anything else ever again, you do so at your own peril.”

“Your Majesty, if you would let me finish—“

“I shall let you finish a sentence when you begin to speak something other than nonsense.” Cardan’s tar-black eyes have the same devilish coldness in them that they had when he ripped that faerie boy’s wings at a revel so many moons ago. “Now refer to your queen by her proper title, or face the consequences.”

Randalin lets out a sigh and grits his teeth. “I am well aware that High Queen Jude is a woman with violent tendencies, but I do not know just how many lives she has claimed.”

“Nor do I.” Cardan smiles the smile of a man besotted. “She has a talent for swordplay that is unrivaled. Any night she is in my bed is a night in which I do not fear assassination, for I know my wife could kill anyone in her sleep.”

“Even you, Your Majesty.” Randalin tries to impart wisdom into his king, tries to show the boy just how dangerous this mortal girl is for both him and the kingdom.

“Especially me.” Cardan smiles as he catches Randalin’s eye, completely aware of what the older man is trying to say and also completely aware of just how wrong he is. “But she has had many chances, and she has yet to take them. Death at the hands of a god so sweet would be a gift, indeed, and yet I seem incapable of receiving such blessings.”

The brambles are growing up Randalin’s legs, cutting into his thighs and wrapping around his wrists as his arms stay by his sides.

The young man in front of him has danger etched into every line of his very being. The High King standing in this study is not the High King of days past, nor is he the High King one would ever wish to meet. Cardan Greenbriar is poison personified, malice dripping from his fanged smile and echoing in the light tapping of his fingernails on his elbow.

For the first time since hearing a doomed prince’s prophecy, Randalin feels true dread gather in the pit of his stomach.

“Do you think me a violent man, Randalin?” Cardan, who has always taken after felines in both his look and his mannerisms, seems far less cat-like than usual. It’s like his fangs hide venom, his body readying, not to pounce, but to strike.

“I’d never insult my king by suggesting something so rude, Your Majesty.”

“But you insulted your queen by suggesting that she abdicate her throne.” Cardan’s eyelashes flutter against his cheeks and his smile grows cruel. “So do humor me this once.”

If the fae had warning sirens, they’d be blaring in Randalin’s head right this very moment.

“No, Your Majesty.” A bramble works it’s way under his doublet, drawing blood the entire way. “I think you do not have a taste for bloodshed. At the very least, not one as strong as the High Queen’s.”

Cardan smiles as the council member finally refers to Jude by her correct title.

He steps away from Randalin once more, walking over to the bookshelf by the desk and pulling a random leather bound volume out, fingers tracing over the lettering on the spine and longing for a more familiar title.

“You know, I’ve read my fair share of mortal stories in my day,” he announces, outwardly calm even as the thorns continue to torture his advisor. “The humans have a saying, a warning of sorts, about how even the devil runs when a good man goes to war.”

He opens the book to a random page, completely ignoring the words as his nails drag down the binding.

“Now, for all my distaste in violence, I wouldn’t call myself a good man,” he continues with a small quirk to his mouth, just a little upward tilt. “I am cruel, I am petty. I delight in the suffering of those who wrong me and I’ll settle for hurting those who are lesser, if I’m unable to harm someone I feel truly deserves it.”

His foot starts tapping, a quiet beat to him but a deafening war drum to Randalin. His ears pick up the sound of a racing heartbeat and his smile grows.

“I tortured even the woman I love for years, albeit not in the ways she likely would’ve preferred, but what good is torture if someone likes it?”

He snaps the book closed and Randalin jumps as best he can in his thorny prison.

“I suppose that makes me more dangerous in war than a good man would be,” he thinks aloud as he slowly turns his gaze back to where Randalin appears to be in the process of soiling his pants. “Surely if the devil runs when a good man goes to war, he would sprint when a man of questionable morals joins the fray, don’t you think?”

“Please, Your Majesty, my recommendations were only voiced out of a concern for the well-being of the kingdom.” Randalin, a man used to lording over those beneath him, sounds dangerously close to begging. “I did not mean to offend you!”

Cardan laughs, a joyless and wicked sound. “But you have offended me, Randalin,” his eyes are wild and his grin reckless. “You have questioned my ability to choose what is best for my kingdom and you have insulted the woman who occupies my every waking thought. You have even made the grievous mistake of disturbing my wife in one of her extremely rare moments of weakness, a moment where she undoubtedly needs all her time and energy to rest.”

The nightshade occupying the rose’s former home overgrows it’s pot and begins spilling down the side of the windowsill, flowers reaching towards Randalin like little fingers.

“Your Majesty, I beg your forgiveness,” Randalin’s voice almost catches in his throat. “I won’t ever suggest that High Queen Jude abdicate again. I promise!”

“Good,” Cardan says as he steps within reach of Randalin.

Randalin lets out a sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing forward.

And it’s all a moment too soon, for the High King lashes out in the blink of an eye, his long fingers wrapping around the advisor’s throat and pushing his head back against the stone wall with an audible crack!

“Because I am the man of questionable morals, and this is war,” Cardan continues as Randalin’s spine screams in agony at the angle he’s been forced into. “I, Cardan Greenbriar, High King of Elfhame, declare war!”

His fingers tighten around Randalin’s throat, his nails already leaving bloody half-moons in the older man’s skin as he presses his forehead to the council member’s.

“I declare war on everyone who opposes my wife’s right to rule beside me as my queen and my equal,” his eyes are wild, barely containing his rage. “It is a war that is unending, a war that is complete and total, a war that I have no qualms about getting violent during.”

Randalin tried to swallow, but he can’t as the king’s hand digs into his throat even harder.

“I, a man without a love for swordplay, will take up a blade. I, a man without a taste for bloodshed, will slit a thousand throats,” he continues, “if that is what it takes for my people to respect my wife.”

Randalin’s vision swims in black, his face beginning to turn an impressive shade of purple as blood starts to gush from bramble-inflicted wounds.

“And as for you,” Cardan is close enough to see tears gather in his advisor’s eyes. “You who was bold enough to openly question the High Queen, I reserve my greatest act of violence.”

The nightshade from the windowsill has reached Cardan’s feet. It begins to grow up his legs, over his waist and down his arms, forming a crown atop his head as Randalin watches in horror.

“I will skin you alive and bleed you dry, forcing you to watch the whole time,” he leans down to whisper in Randalin’s ear. “I will break your bones and tear your flesh, and when I’m done, I will find a way to erase every mention of you. No book in Elfhame will bear your name, even the stars will rearrange when I tell them to.”

“Please—“

“And then I promise I will use your hollowed our skull as my wine goblet for the rest of my days, just because I can.”

Randalin’s knees quake as his body gasps for air.

Cardan lets him go, watching in disgust as the man falls into a pile of blood-stained brambles with a sob.

“I promise this on my honor as High King, and on the vow I made with my Wife, Jude Duarte Greenbriar,” Cardan’s voice is the voice of an executioner. “So help me gods, I will rip the world apart for her.”

“Your Majesty, how can I atone?” Randalin is reduced to weeping, his hands covering his face as he cowers at his king’s feet.

“Never question the High Queen’s sovereignty again, and see that anyone else who dares to speak treason against her understands exactly how far I’m willing to go to support her right to rule beside me.”

The nightshade around Cardan disappears, withering back into the pot before dying and being replaced by pretty roses. The brambles around the room fade into nothingness, only a broken stone and a few blood smears left to remind anyone that they were ever there.

“And do hope that I don’t have to resort to violence again,” Cardan smiles that cruel little smile he wears so well. “Jude is so much more adept at wielding the hospitality of knives.”

~~~~

Tag list: @cardan-greenbriar-tcp