#with magnificently complex families!

[ravencromwell]

@bodysnatch3r feel like this is particularly up your alley, given how keen you are on Frodo/Sam/Rose!

Every time Sean Astin makes a statement on whether or not Sam and Frodo were indeed gay for each other in lord of the rings he’s always like “well we have to acknowledge that attitudes around sexuality have changed dramatically over the past several decades and since authorial intent is only up to speculation, the story is open to multiple readings, some of which might have different significances for different groups of people also they kiss on the lips because I said so”

[justjudethoughts]

In Defense of Peter Pevensie. Originally written in response to accusations of Peter being "less complex" than other Narnia characters

If King Lune is the embodiment of masculinity as father, then Peter is the embodiment of masculinity brother. As High King, he becomes the brother of his people, but those seeds were sown in his own family. 

From the very beginning of the story Peter is the leader of the Pevensie children, a job he evidently takes very seriously. But, unlike a lot of eldest siblings, he doesn’t use his status and power as a means to swagger around and lord it over the others. Quite the opposite, actually. It is immediately clear that one of Peter’s main functions in the Pevensie family is cheerleader of his siblings. This is shown not only in his open praise of their talents (for example, he hypes up Susan’s talent of archery in PC and cheers on Lucy for having been right after none of them believed her), but also generally tries to keep them in high spirits. 

Take the context of LWW. The Pevensies are sent to the countryside because of air raids. They are going into a strange house with a strange man because the Germans are obliterating everything the children have ever known or called home. All of them are scared, Edmund’s bullying Lucy, and Lucy may or may not be going insane. But Peter can’t show any of them that fear, because he’s the oldest. They can’t know he’s scared, so he puts a bold face on it. One of the first things he says in LWW is “We’ve landed on our feet and no mistake” when he looks at the big house. He argues they are going to have a delightful summer after all. The next day, when the others are disheartened by the rain, he suggests they explore the house.

As the years go on, Peter earns the title “Magnificent.” In this, Peter truly embodies the  JPII quote, “the ultimate test of your greatness is the way you treat every human being.” He has a bleeding heart for the least of these, but in an unassuming, humble way. Peter is not a man of pomp and circumstance. He has a servant’s heart, perhaps most evident in PC. 

Upon returning to Narnia and learning of Caspian’s plight, he immediately makes it known that he has no intention of replacing Caspian. “I haven’t come to take your place, but to put you in it” is among the first things he says to his new friend. This isn’t about winning fame or glory or reliving the old days. This is about making right what was wrong. 

He is generous with the Narnia creatures, even when they are a bit silly. When trying to pick a Marshall, he suggests the Giant Wimbleweather. Caspian warns him that the giant isn’t very smart, to which Peter responds, “Of course not. But any giant looks impressive if only he will keep quiet. And it will cheer him up.” Part of his reasoning is simply the injured feelings of poor Wimbleweather who earlier entirely messed up an important battle.  The following conversation also takes place while they are searching for a Marshall. Reepicheep offers his assistance:

"I am afraid it would not do," said Peter very gravely. "Some humans are afraid of mice——"

"I had observed it, Sire," said Reepicheep.

"And it would not be quite fair to Miraz," Peter continued, "to have in sight anything that might abate the edge of his courage."

Instead of embarrass and insult Reepicheep by explaining that he is far too small and unassuming for such a job, he appeals rather to humans' fear of mice. Even while battle prepping, his is concerned about the hearts of his people. Bulgy Bear, too, he allows to be a Marshall, as it is the right of bears, no matter how silly they are. 

Peter understands that duty means doing what is right, regardless of how it makes you feel. His first battle happens because Susan and Lucy are being chased by the wolves. When he hears Susan’s horn, he runs to help her. The book says, “Peter did not feel very brave; indeed, he felt he was going to be sick. But that made no difference to what he had to do.” His sisters needed him. And so he showed up. The same is true in PC, when he engages Miraz in single combat. Edmund asks if he can beat Miraz. Peter responds that he is fighting to find out. He goes in completely unsure that he is ever going to see his family again, but he does it anyway. Because Narnia needs him. Caspian needs him. His people need him. And his feelings aren’t the deciding factor. 

When he makes mistakes, he owns up to them. In LWW, when the children plead before Aslan on Edmund’s behalf, Peter blames himself for being too hard on Edmund. In PC, when they finally see Aslan, he apologizes for having led them wrong the whole time. He is always trying to do his very best and falling short like the rest of us. But he accepts his fault with humility, gets back up and tries again. 

By the Last Battle, we get to see Peter in his truest form. Even though he has been in England for years, when the seven friends see what looks like a ghost, he is the one who stands up and orders it to speak. Clad in his suspenders and button-down shirt, Peter is once more High King. “Shadow or spirit or whatever you are," he says, "If you are from Narnia, I charge you in the name of Aslan, speak to me. I am Peter the High King." And when night falls on Narnia for the last time it is Peter, once so scared to speak to Aslan (and even attempted to make Susan do it for him) that shuts the door. It is Peter that jests with Lucy when she weeps for Narnia, trying to lighten the mood. It is Peter that she turns to, time and time again, with her questions. It is Peter that Lucy, and all of the other friends of Narnia, trust to lead them. 

It is also Peter, who, “shortly and gravely” tells Tirian about the fall of Susan. Because he has to. Because here he is, once again, the eldest, the leader. Here he is once again faced with the unpleasant task of shouldering the burden for others. But he won’t make Edmund or Lucy explain (in fact, they don’t say anything about Susan). Peter takes that pain for them, forces himself to form words. Perhaps, deep down, he blames himself. He always was a bleeding heart. 

There are so many other things I didn’t include. I could talk about how Peter immediately offers to help Tumnus, simply because he did the decent thing and didn’t kidnap Lucy. Or his beautiful, redeemed relationship with Edmund. I could talk about all the times he is a rock for Susan, or his steady leadership despite his own hesitation. But really and truly, my point amounts to this: Peter is a brother. He is steady and humble and down to earth. He is brave. He is chivalrous and courteous and overflowing with affirmation for those he loves. He is a servant heart. 

When I think of Peter, I think of carpentry and the honesty of working with your hands. I think of campfires and a night sky full of stars, and the feeling of warm flannel. I think of laughter and 19th century books for boys, and tomes upon tomes of Latin. I think of warm drinks, hot cocoa or coffee or tea, and the safety of home. It is home I think of most of all. 

[daenyzz]

Blood ties become deep love

Summary: In which Daemon convinces his wife, Rhaenyra, that he will be the best option for their only daughter, and at the wedding, he promises to protect her from all dangers, and that is what he did, and even died doing so.

Triggers: Death in childbirth and combat, suggestive sexual content, incest (father and daughter), and typical Asoiaf content.

In 129 years after the Conquest, the Targaryens were at the height of their power, but rumors of war threatened to break out like a storm. A battle for the throne was imminent, and alliances were as volatile as the flames that dragons breathed. At the heart of this turmoil was (Y/N), the sweet and kind daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Daemon Targaryen, a young woman whose beauty was as stunning as that of her silver dragon, Silverwing.

(Y/N) was known throughout the continent as the Fairest Maiden of the Seven Kingdoms. Her silver hair gleamed in the sunlight, framing her angelic face. Her deep violet eyes looked like two pools of amethyst. She was a rider of Silverwing, the magnificent female dragon with silver scales that reflected the daylight like a mirror.

The young woman lived in Dragonstone, where her mother, Rhaenyra, gathered her supporters to claim her right to the Iron Throne. Tensions between the houses were growing, and (Y/N) felt that, sooner or later, the weight of destiny would fall on her shoulders. Despite her youth, she understood the importance of her position and the role she would play in the battle to secure her mother's legacy.

One morning, while (Y/N) was tending to Silverwing in the Dragonpit of the Dragonstone after an aerial tour, her mother appeared at her side.

Rhaenyra had a serious and determined expression. “(Y/N), my dear, we need to talk,” Rhaenyra said, urgency dripping from every word.The young woman turned to face her mother, feeling butterflies in her stomach.

“About what, mother?”Rhaenyra hesitated for a moment before continuing. “About you and Daemon.”

(Y/N) could feel her heart racing. Daemon Targaryen was her father and also known as the Rogue Prince, a man who aroused both admiration and fear in everyone around him. He was a fearless and charismatic warrior, but also someone whose passions could be dangerous.

“I have decided that you shall be married to him,” Rhaenyra announced, quickly and curtly. (Y/N) was stunned by the information, expecting everything but that.

“But mom! He’s my father! How can I marry him?” (Y/N) knew, of course, that consanguineous marriage is a common practice in her family, she herself being the product of his blood, but the girl didn’t expect to get married so young.

Rhaenyra held her daughter’s hands, looking into her eyes intently. “I know this is hard to understand, but these are dark times. The union between you two will strengthen our position against the Greens and other adversaries.” Rhaenyra tried to dissuade her daughter.

The young woman felt the pressure of her mother’s words weighing down on her. Family love was complex; the idea of marrying Daemon seemed both a sacrifice and an opportunity to join forces in turbulent times.

“What if I don’t want to?” (Y/N) asked, her voice shaking, though she tried to hide it.

“You have no choice,” Rhaenyra replied firmly, but her purple gaze did not meet her daughter’s amethyst. “We must secure our Targaryen line and protect the future of the realm.”

After that fateful day, (Y/N) struggled with her emotions as she prepared for the arranged marriage. The following weeks were filled with discussions of political alliances and military strategies, as well as preparations for the wedding, while war loomed like a threatening shadow.

The wedding day arrived faster than (Y/N) expected. The Targaryen Princess looked radiant in a gown adorned with gold details that reflected the colors of House Targaryen. Her silver hair was braided in two braids at the front and pulled together at the back, the rest of it hanging loosely at her back, while a delicate diadem gleamed in the torchlight in the throne room.

Daemon stood at the altar, his imposing presence dominating the space. He wore shining armor that highlighted his masculine, striking features; his lilac eyes fixed on (Y/N) as she entered the room.

Her heart raced as she met her father's intense gaze; there was something deeper there, an inexplicable connection between them that transcended normal family ties.

The ceremony continued under the watchful eyes of those present; every word exchanged seemed to carry significant weight. When they finally became husband and wife, (Y/N) felt a mix of emotions churn in her stomach—responsibility being the biggest of them all.After the ceremony, during the celebratory banquet in the castle’s main hall, Daemon approached her with an enigmatic smile on his lips.

“You look stunningly beautiful tonight, just as the blood of the dragon should be,” he said softly.

(Y/N) blushed under the compliment; her emotions were confused between admiration and awe. “Thank you… father.”

He leaned closer to her, his violet eyes reflecting the flames of the torches around them. “You know that this marriage is not just political? There is something more between us.”

(Y/N) held her breath at those words; the world around her seemed to disappear momentarily. “What do you mean?”

Daemon smiled slightly; there was a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I want to protect you above all else. And when the time comes for war… I will be by your side.”

His words lit a flame within her—not just for the protection he promised to offer, but for the raw emotion underlying their peculiar connection.

As the festivities continued around them, (Y/N) realized that their union had far more meaning than she had initially thought; it was not just a political alliance or a military strategy—it was also a form of deep love rooted in the complexities of Targaryen life.

In the days following their wedding, (Y/N) was taken to bed by Daemon every day, and every night, he said, (Y/N) must carry her brother in her womb so that another Targaryen might be born. Daemon taught his daughter not only the arts of pleasure, but also politics and strategy. The King Consort wanted (Y/N) to not only be a skilled dragon rider but also a strategist worthy of her House’s history. Together they flew the blue skies of Westeros; She felt the freedom on the dragon’s wings as Daemon led the way deftly through the clouds.

With each flight together, their hearts grew deeper together; there was something magical about the way they shared these moments under the vast, open sky—away from the political intrigues, the pressures of court…and her jealous mother.

However, as the days turned into weeks and tensions rose in the realm due to the impending civil war between the Blacks and the Greens, led by Aegon II and Alicent Hightower, new challenges arose to test not only their family ties but also their personal convictions.

Amidst the horrors of war: unexpected betrayals arose between former allies; friends became enemies in a matter of moments — testing not only their skills as a strategist but also their emotional strength in the face of the brutality of the struggle for power.

During a particularly dark night after an intense battle where many precious lives were lost: Daemon found (Y/N) alone in the Dragonpit where Silverwing remained calm despite the turmoil around them…

“I am sorry for the pain you are going through, our little one should not feel this,” he said softly as he caressed his daughter-wife’s small belly, where his seed germinated and began to grow.She looked up at him with tears in her delicate violet eyes: “Why must we fight against each other? Shouldn't we be together? Why do the usurpers insist on this fight?"

Daemon held her face gently between his hands: "This is our destiny, I fear...but I will do everything to protect you and our child growing within you!"

At the end of the Dance of the Dragons: Daemon died in the God's Eye, fighting against his nephew, Aemond. He did not fight for his first wife and her birthright, he fought for his daughter-wife and their unborn child; while (Y/N), died in labour, giving birth to a strong, silver boy, whose eyes were his mother's and his father's features. (Y/N) named the little baby Daemon II, in honor of the man who protected her from all harm.

In the past, Daemon desired the throne for himself and his lineage. And in the end, part of his plan came to fruition, as all of Rhaenyra's children were gone, with (Y/N) being the last to die, leaving little Daemon II first in line for the throne. Daemon may not have sat on the Iron Throne, but his son, Daemon II, who grew up to look exactly like his father, did and ruled for years.

Author's Notes: Hey guys! I'm still kind of a beginner, so please excuse the dialogue, I feel like it could have been better... I will continue to write, if you have an idea and want me to write it, I will be more than grateful.

[hisui-dreamer]

rinnnaaaa!!! congrats on 2k, and i hope you have loads of fun with this event 💖💖 for my request, how about leona (haha i'm so unpredictable, ikr) with peonies! (any culture works <3)

fit for the throne

Pairing: Leona Kingscholar x gn!reader

Synopsis: it wasn't fair how his life had treated him, so it was up to you to give him what he truly deserved

Tags: fluff, reader is a leona apologist, leona has never done anything wrong in his life :), reader is secretly royalty

Word count: 700+

Notes: thanks soru!! i hope you don't mind how long this took hehe. i poured all of my leona simp energy into this (⁠*⁠ﾉ⁠・⁠ω⁠・⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♫

Masterlist

flower of choice: peony

peonies are often referred to as the "king of flowers", because they overwhelmingly bloom in splendor, giving rise to interpretations of "wealth" and "magnificence".

A sigh interrupts your focus, drawing your eyes away from the grimoire cradled in your hands. Your focus shifts to Leona, who sits with regal poise in the armchair, embraced by the golden glow of the setting sun. The fading light plays upon the angles of his noble countenance, highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw and the elegant curve of his cheekbones.

“What’s wrong, love?”

Leona's emerald eyes meet yours, frustration etched into his features as another sigh escapes his lips. “It’s another letter from home. They’re requesting my presence for some big event,” he grumbles.

An eyebrow arches at his words. Undeniably Leona's presence radiates warmth and comfort, like the brilliance of a supernova that dispelled the darkness, but it isn’t unknown to you how his worth went unappreciated in his childhood. Surely, anyone could appreciate him better than the palace of the Sunset Savanah had. What could they possibly want with his presence now?

“An event?” you echo, your grimoire long forgotten now that something far more important has caught your attention. Rising from the desk, you move to settle on Leona's lap, his legs shifting so you can lean against him comfortably. "It doesn’t seem very considerate of them to request your absence from school," you frown, your fingers combing through his hair in an attempt to soothe his frustration. It's unlikely they truly require his presence; more probable is their desire for the second prince to make a token appearance, showcasing the facade of a happy and stable royal family.

He huffed at your comment. “When have they ever been considerate?”

It was unfair, how they treated him like a chess piece to wave about whenever they pleased, but refused to acknowledge when he had a voice. He had qualities that could rival the great kings of the past, but his potential is overshadowed simply by the order of his birth. You can't shake the feeling that his true potential is being squandered within the confines of his homeland.

You've observed firsthand how effortlessly he embodies the qualities of a leader. One of your favourite attributes about him is his intelligence. His mind is razor-sharp and perceptive, effortlessly dissecting complex problems with precision. From your casual discussions alone, you’ve gleaned that he possesses a keen insight into matters of statecraft and diplomacy, navigating political intricacies with a deftness that belies his years.

His voice is velvety, smooth, and rich, with undertones of authority. When he speaks, his words carry weight, resonating with a quiet power that commands attention without the need for raised voices or harsh commands. He possesses a natural eloquence and is able to convey his thoughts with precision and clarity, leaving no room for doubt or misunderstanding.

His profound care and compassion for his people fill your heart with warmth. Leona's unwavering dedication to bettering their lives is evident as he tirelessly pushes for policies aimed at fostering prosperity and equality throughout the kingdom. Yet, what truly distinguishes him is his genuine warmth and kindness, treating everyone with respect and consideration, irrespective of their status or background.

But perhaps most striking of all is the aura of calm that surrounds him, even in the midst of chaos. Like a steadfast lighthouse in a storm, he remains unshaken by the turbulence of the world around him, his demeanour unwavering and composed. It is this unwavering composure, coupled with his innate sense of duty and honour, that truly marks him as a king among men.

“You would never be fit to rule!”

The words of Lilia Vanrouge resurface in your mind, the ones that triggered your beloved into his overblot, and a surge of fury begins to build within you.

Because he is wrong, entirely wrong. Because Leona is the only person you could ever see ruling by your side.

Said lion beastman nestles against you, nuzzling his nose gently into your cheek, his way of silently probing your thoughts, having sensed your bubbling anger.

Calmness washes over you at his affection. He truly deserves the world and so much more.

You pulled away slightly, gazing directly into his eyes.

It shouldn’t be too difficult for him to fall in love with your kingdom.

“Leona, dear, did I ever mention that I'm the heir to a kingdom's throne?”

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[redtsundere-writes]

Part 7: Potential

King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

Tags: MDNI. +18. Murder. Blood. Cannibalism. Sukuna Ryomen Is The Warning Itself. Nudity. Sexual Display. Vaginal. Fingering.Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst.

Word Count: 3856 words.

Beginning. | ← Previous | Next →

A cheerful, badly played melody bounced within the dark walls of the castle. For a couple of hours, seemingly random notes sang a song that Sukuna knew perfectly well. One by one, it slowly played. The lovely song lightly drifted into the busy king's office. Usually, he liked to keep the door closed so that no one would disturb him while he worked, but since a pretty musician was playing, he didn't mind listening to the beautiful melody despite the mistakes.

Sukuna stretched his six limbs over the mahogany desk after a long day of reading and doing tedious paperwork. It was a necessary task to keep abreast of what was going on in the kingdom. Every decision he made only favored him, but being a curse, it gave his own race an advantage over humans. Nimbly, he stacked the documents on their respective shelves to finish for the day. He was the only one who could touch his desk, as his greatest secrets were kept there.

Sukuna prowled throughout the corridors, his footsteps echoing to the rhythm of the melody playing in the background. It was important to stretch the legs after spending a full day sitting down. The music gradually intensified as he approached the game room. Taking his time to enjoy the song more. He peeked through the open door to watch you carefully. There you were, in front of the giant piano as you stared at the beginner piano book you had borrowed from the library.

You had always wanted to learn to play the piano. When your mother used to take you to dances, you always loved watching the musicians move their fingers nimbly and elegantly on their shiny instruments. There was something about the pianists that caught your attention, maybe it was the way they swayed their bodies to the music or their intense focus. Whatever it was, it was fascinating how their hands could produce such magic. Unfortunately, you were from a modest family, so you could never get near a piano. Not until you started serving Sukuna.

The first time you entered the game room, your eyes sparkled at the sight of the magnificent black piano that sat mysteriously in the far corner. You were supposed to clean the library, but admiring the piano for a moment wouldn’t hurt. You approached it cautiously, inches away from the majestic instrument. Your fingers caressed the perimeter of the soundboard, and you smiled to yourself as you carefully admired it. Curiosity led you to inspect its interior, and you touched one of the strings, eliciting a short sound. You quickly pulled your hand away, worried someone might hear you wasting time. Glancing at the door, you waited to see if anyone would peek in to check who had disturbed the icy silence of the castle. Fortunately, no one noticed.

As soon as the king announced you as the winner of this year's hunt, you knew what you would spend on your week off. Every day, after breakfast, you would head to the game room to find the grand piano you had fallen in love with at first sight. You would read the beginner's manual, repeat the exercises to the best of your understanding and then rest your fingers for a while. Your free time was spent reading books that caught your attention, even though you didn’t understand half of the complex vocabulary. It wasn’t that you couldn’t read, but the intricacy of the texts was challenging. When you didn't want to play the piano or read, you would look for Mrs. Inoue to help her with some of her homework.

Sukuna had noticed your peculiar routine during your week off. Despite having received a wonderful week off from work, you were in the playroom practicing piano, trying to read complex texts or helping the other servants finish their work. Whenever you tried to help Mrs. Inoue, he always stayed in the shadows, watching you argue with your old friend. You would ask him to let you help and Mrs. Inoue would refuse your kind offers because you deserved a break. It didn't matter if it was hanging blankets in the sun, peeling vegetables or dusting vases, you wanted to help your companions, but they would end up running you out of the room. Sukuna was amused to see you return to the playroom, frustrated at your desire to be productive. You were hardworking, and that was both your best and worst quality.

Your fingers descended one by one on the piano as you stuck out your tongue in concentration. Although you often made mistakes, the song you were trying to play didn't sound too bad. Sukuna could follow the rhythm you had established in the room. Your body moving from side to side mesmerized him like a flirtatious snake in a pretty basket. The temptation to come closer until you released the bite was irresistible. You lost in your musical world until you heard the door open.

“King Sukuna,” you whispered in surprise when you saw who it was. You stood up and bowed out of fear and respect. “I'm sorry if I disturbed you, I…". You immediately defended yourself, worried you had disturbed him with the noise.

“Keep playing," he ordered as he approached you.

You didn't expect that answer at all, but you obeyed immediately. You returned to the position where you left the song. Sukuna sat next to you on the stool as he watched you play. Your breathing altered and your fingers began to tremble as you felt his imposing presence so close. You were making more mistakes now than before. You had to concentrate to satisfy the king's ear.

“I'm sorry, I'm not very good,” you apologized between stutters, without taking your eyes off the piano.

“I can see that," Sukuna said bluntly. It felt like a punch to your ego, but you didn't give up trying to please him. “Not bad for a beginner.” You smiled softly at the half compliment.

Sukuna watched you for a while before deciding to take possession of the piano. While you played the melody, he helped you with the chords. Little by little you merged in the music and the intimacy of the moment. Your fingers moved in tandem to create the same piece. At times, your skins brushed fleetingly against each other, dangerously close to wanting to do something beyond just touching. Your heart fluttered endlessly and there was no way you could stop it.

The king was a magnificent pianist. With four hands and incredible hand-eye coordination, it was clear he excelled. He could play any piece of music he set his mind to with ease and elegance. You were so amazed by his skills that, without realizing it, you stopped playing just to listen to him. As soon as your hands moved away from the keys, Sukuna stopped.

“What's wrong?” he asked, confused.

“The song sounds better without me,” you answered, ashamed of not being able to keep up with him. Sukuna took both of your hands with his left arms to subtly place them on the keys again.

“Once you learn, the song will sound more beautiful than you can imagine,” Sukuna promised, waiting for you to play again.

There was something in that sentence that stuck with you. You knew he was talking about a simple piano song, but your heart had been left with the impression that he was referring to you. You smiled broadly before playing again. Sukuna couldn't help but be infected by your smile. He faced away to prevent you from seeing the effect you were having on him. This was the perfect opportunity to ask you something that has been plaguing his mind for the past few months.

“You seem to like spending time with me," he said, glancing at you to see your reaction.

“I was afraid before, but I have gotten used to being around you,” you answered without taking your eyes off the book held by the lectern.

You were sure that Sukuna treated you differently from the other servants and liked that. It made you feel unique and special. Although, it could also terrify you and leave you frozen. However, you loved spending time with him. Whether it was tidying his room or washing his hair, being in his presence stimulated you mentally and physically. You couldn't help but want more of what was allowed, the forbidden fruit in the eternal garden.

“What do you think about spending more time with me?” Sukuna asked you, hiding his nervousness about what was coming.

“What do you mean?”

“Marry me.”

Your fingers fell on the keys, causing a shrill sound. You interrupted the song to realize the situation. "Did I hear that right?" you wondered in shock. Your head turned slowly to face him. Sukuna was looking at you with a poker face. He looked like he was serious.

“Me? With you?” you asked between nervous stutters.

“No, with the piano.” Sukuna answered sarcastically. You looked at the piano in disbelief. “Of course with you, dumbass,” Sukuna laughed, offended that you were paying attention to the piano in the middle of an important conversation.

“What? Why? I'm just a servant,” you replied nervously before getting up from the stool to process the situation you were suddenly pushed into.

“Are you going to refuse your king's generous offer?” Sukuna challenged you. Your eyes widened at the question.

“Of course not. I couldn't,” you said so he wouldn't take it as an act of rebellion, still confused.

A blush seeped into your face. You knew the king liked you to a certain extent. You never thought he felt so strongly about you…if he did. It was common for people to marry for the benefits that came along with the papers. Social status, sex in excess, and access to wealth were things your mother talked about every time she instigated the concept of marriage to you and your sisters. The thing was, you had none of those things. Social status? 0. You were just a slave who was treated well. Excessive sex? No idea about that. You were more virgin than olive oil. Wealth? You're lucky your mother received money for you, she would have sold you for a sack of potatoes. In your eyes, you had nothing of value to offer him.

Sukuna approached you and grabbed your chin so you could look him in the eye. A small touch that made your breath hitch. He could read the insecurity in your eyes. It was funny. A week ago you had jumped into his arms from a deadly height without a second thought, but here you were, hesitating to marry the person you were meant to serve with your life. Sometimes he wondered where your moral line was.

“So? What’s stopping you?” Sukuna asked.

“I want to know what will happen once I accept,” you explained.

“I didn’t expect less.” Sukuna thought, satisfied. He knew that you were wiser than you looked. You knew you didn’t have where to run. It was written in stone that you would marry him, but you didn’t understand what that entailed. Sukuna approached one of the bookshelves to pull out a map. You got close to the table where he extended it. Small particles of dust flew like tiny fairies that shined against the light coming from the skylight. You had seen maps before, but never such detailed one. It had a golden edge and the representation of every castle was a tiny art piece.

“You see, I've been thinking about it a lot and I've come to the conclusion that someday I'm going to leave this earth,” he explained with great disappointment in his own mortal body. “So someone must take my place to rule the lands that belong to me.”

Sukuna pointed to the western part of the world in which they live. On a large peninsula was the kingdom of Sukuna, the only thing separating them from the rest of the world were huge mountain ranges. On the other side, there was the great kingdom of Jogo that was divided into small kingdoms that were owned by other curses… or well, they were owned by other curses until Sukuna conquered them. Now all the kingdoms of the west coast were his. He only needed to conquer the rest of the kingdoms that were ruled under human hands like the Satoru and Zen'in kingdom.

“Uraume could do that,” you commented.

“That was my first idea, but Uraume is… too tenuous. They could never rule with an iron fist,” he explained without taking his eyes off the map. “I need to know that the person who will own all this will do a good job maintaining and expanding my legacy.”

“Do you think I can do it?” you asked in amazement.

“You?” Sukuna chuckled under his breath before looking at you. “Never. If Uraume is dim, you are harmless. You're as innocent as a little white rabbit from the prairies,” he said with a mischievous grin before grabbing you by the chin, one of his claws pointed at your jugular. One false move and he could rip it off with no issue.

You were completely at his mercy, how could you not be? He tripled you in everything. Size, power, intellect, evil… He had you beat in every possible way and there was nothing you could do about it. You were light years away if you had the stupid idea of reaching him, which you weren't even sure you wanted to do in the first place. You would never have the guts to even try to keep up with him.

“I need someone strong and a born leader.” That last word made you understand where this was all going. “I need an heir.”

Your eyes snapped open as your quick hypothesis was confirmed. "Having a child… with him?" you wondered as you saw the king for his race for the first time in a long time. He could behave like a ruthless human, but he was still an impressive monster. You didn't know if you were capable of giving him what he wanted.

“For that, I need you to become a queen to the level of being able to educate the next great mighty one who will be in charge of this great nation I will be forming until my time runs out,” he explained before rolling up the map to its original form. “Is that clear?”

“You still haven't answered my initial question,” you answered as you watched him put the map back in its place. “Why me? There are plenty of princesses out there who already have everything it takes to give an heir.”

“I can’t risk it,” Sukuna sighed, still turning his back to you. Her tattoos framed her shoulder blades beautifully under the translucent fabric. “Do you think one of those princesses would want to be with such a disgusting being like me?” You felt the need in your chest to say something.

“You are not a disgusting being,” you contradicted. Sukuna looked at you with a small smile escaping from his lips.

“Thank you, but I know what I'm talking about and I don't mind in the least,” he said before patting you on the head a couple of times. A fleeting act, but it set your body on fire. “If I kidnap any of them and take their bodies by force, they can kill the baby when I'm not looking,” he left his hand on your head and lowered his gaze to connect with yours. “You, on the other hand, I know you wouldn't be capable of such an atrocity, would you?”

He was absolutely right. Your mother had raised you for the simple but tedious purpose of being a good housewife and raising a rich man's children. Your life had been manufactured to do what the king was asking of you and you would do it perfectly.

“You are docile, obedient and attentive to my commands. I trust you will give me a strong heir and you will do everything necessary to satisfy me with the result,” he said as he examined your reaction. “And I will reward you greatly for it. If you accept, I will fill you with more luxuries and riches than you can dream of, take you to places you have never seen before and give you the most comfortable life in the world.”

Sukuna removed the hand on your head to see you from above as he used to do, a manipulation technique to make you feel smaller than you already were. If you refused, he would kill you. You knew it. His back was against the wall, but you were willing to do whatever it would take to be useful to him.

“Well? What do you say?”

“I agree. I will do whatever you ask gracefully,” you said before bowing to him out of respect.

A big smile appeared on his face. He had already done the hard part of his long term plan: finding a woman willing to be the mother of his children without complaining. He congratulated himself in his mind for accomplishing such a feat by having in his hands what he needed to lengthen his legacy. As pleased as he was, they still had a long road ahead of them.

“There is only one thing I need to know if you are really on my side,” Sukuna said with a mischievous smile. You arched an eyebrow at that unspoken part of the verbal contract. “I know you are loyal to me, but are you loyal enough?”

“What do you need me to do, my king?” You asked in confusion.

“You must kill one of your own kind.”

Your eyes widened after hearing that. It had never crossed your mind to do something as vile as that. You remembered all the blood spilled, the flesh cut off and the lives lost in front of your eyes during the 11 months you had been living with the king. You thought he was the one who would be in charge of doing that. You were not a murderer. Why should you do it? The question really was: Could you do it? You weren't sure, but you had to.

“As I now understand that this is against your nature. I will give you two months to process it and do it. As a test, I want you to deliver your head into my hands. Once you complete your task, I will ask you to marry me and we will begin trying for a child.”

You came back from your trip from shock to reality when you heard that he would propose to you. Something every girl your age yearns for with all their heart and soul. If your mother had heard that, she'd be dancing with excitement. Not giving a damn about the dastardly condition that came with it. You could already hear her screaming, "Do it, do it! It's our chance to get out of the shit!" You shook her voice from your mind and focused from what was in front of you. You tightened your skirt from the nerves of accepting something like that. You had no idea how to do it. You were just supposed to give someone's life, not take it away.

“Okay,” you whispered.

“Good,” Sukuna pronounced satisfied before turning around to leave the room. You swallowed dryly before finding a seat.

“What did I get myself into?” You whispered as you hid in your hands.

The faint bells rang at 10 o'clock at night. Curfew for all servants. Everyone headed to the dungeon to sleep. You ran as fast as you could to catch up with the others in time. You knew that the servant who stayed outside would sleep with the curses. You had stayed the rest of the day in the game room trying to come up with a plan to kill someone, but your mind couldn't come up with one. You knew you had to kill one of the servants, since you doubted the king would let you leave the castle, but your chicken heart couldn't decide on a victim. You quickly reached the dungeon, ready to go to rest when a monotonous voice stopped you.

“Where are you going?” Uraume asked you as they checked the attendance list to make sure all the servants had already entered the cold dormitory.

“To sleep?” You answered confused.

“Follow me," they asked before lowering the bars of the dungeon.

You followed Uraume through the dark corridors of the castle. Corridors you recognized as the visiting rooms that were never used because the king never invited anyone to the castle. Uraume led you to the back room, a place you had never entered before. Your heart and eyes twitched curious to know what was on the other side. Elle pulled out a bunch of keys to open the heavy wooden door. On the other side, there was a beautiful room with a king-sized bed with silk sheets and curtains posing softly at the sides. You slowly stepped into the new environment to inspect it closely. It was larger than the rooms you had cleaned before. There was a giant closet with beautiful dresses hanging on padded hangers, a wooden dresser with a drawer full of jewelry, and a sleek quartz bathroom. Most impressive of all was the giant picture window in front of the bed. A bloody rose with tiny green thorns posed between navy blue and black glass.

“The king commissioned me to make this room especially for you. I hope it is to your liking.”

Uraume analyzed you as you sat on the bed to look out the window. They still remembered the day the king had asked him to make a special one that was on the level of a princess. She asked him who it was specifically for, but he refused to answer for the moment. At the time, they never thought it would be for you. They knew it had not been an easy decision. He had to take into account all the pros and cons that came with marrying and having a child with someone from the low class as you. Still, King Sukuna had finally decided to put you in training after months of cold thought.

“It is beautiful. Thank you, Uraume,” you smiled at them.

“Rest. The king is expecting you tomorrow at breakfast,” they bowed respectfully to you and closed the door behind him.

Seeing Uraume bowing like that surprised you as you were not used to it. You lay back on the bed to admire the small stars hand-painted with white paint on the stone ceiling. You smiled as you imagined Uraume painting them one by one with dedication. "The king commissioned this room for me, eh?" you thought as it dawned on you that he had in mind to marry you for a while. Your heart fluttered so much from excitement that it made you forget all responsibilities for a second.

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Masterlist.

[fairytale-poll]

CINDERPOLL FINAL MATCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Propaganda Under the Cut:

Ella of Frell:

She’s had a “gift” of obedience placed on her, and her quest is to figure out how to get rid of it. I love her

he’s under a curse that makes her obey any order given to her. She met her Prince Charming (Char) when they kids, and they became friends. Her stepsisters found out about her curse while they were at boarding school, and because of that (and some things they made her do) she ran away to try and find the fairy that cursed her. When she does, the fairy says that she doesn’t do magic anymore, because she realized her gifts were actually curses, and refuses to remove it. Ella goes back, and is eventually demoted from “lord’s daughter” to “maid”. She still writes letters to Char (currently in a foreign kingdom, but before that, when he came to try and talk to her, her sister forbid her from leaving her room so she would have all his attention), but eventually stops and even writes a fake letter from her sister to convince him that she never cared/doesn’t care about him, because she realized it would be too dangerous for them to be together; with her curse, she could easily be made to hurt or kill him. Flash forward, and Char returns home. The king throws balls, and she goes, because even if she can’t be with or let him know who she is, she just wants to see him again. Char is drawn to her, and for a lot of the three balls, they’re together. At the end, her stepsister gets jealous, and right as Char proposes (because Ella, despite having to lie about her identity, is the most honest person at the ball and a friend already), she grabs her mask, revealing her identity. Char reaches her home before she can leave, and there’s a whole scene where he finds out she’s a scullery maid, that the letter was a lie, and says that she doesn’t have to be Ella if she doesn’t want to be, and she says she’s not, and he asks if she loves him, and she does– and then it’s all ruined because he accidentally orders her to marry him, and then her stepmother tells her to, and all the while she’s fighting the curse, because she doesn’t want to endanger him and their nation, and doesn’t want her step family to be rich and powerful, and finally– she says no. She gets so excited to say no, to refuse, that she didn’t even fully realize she broke the curse until Mandy (her fairy godmother) tells her. Anyway, they all lived happily ever after. Ella is one of my favorite Cinderellas ever and I really hope I did a good job of explaining her and what her story is about (it’s been a while since I’ve read the book)

I was so enraptured with this book as a kid, it had such an impact on my young mind. Got me into fantasy.

BEST CINDERELLA!!! please use the picture from the book cover and not the movie 🙏

She breaks her curse spell in such a magnificent way. Like yes she embodies the whole “kindness” and “courageous” characteristics that Cinderellas are known for, but for her she’s been forced to be obedient as well. And while she thinks can rise above anything she soon learns she will just hurt so many more people that way. She chose to be self-sacrificing because it was the one way she could express her love that wouldn’t harm anyone (then). But! But! She also ends up getting to be selfish! And that is also a great kindness! To herself and to those whom love her and she loves in return.  All that after she breaks the curse.

She can mimic languages. :) She refused to marry the love of her life and thus broke her curse. :) She fell in love via letters. :) She lied to the royal family that orange carriages are very popular in a nearby city.

brave, smart, a linguist, a nerd, she evolves steadily and beautifully throughout the book, with a sharp voice that never stops being distinctive and fun to hang with.

complex character coool as fuck premise and also. the nostalgia of it all

Cinders:

She spent decades searching every moon and planet trying to find her wife (Rose), who was kidnapped on their wedding day. Eventually, she found Rose, and they embraced, only for Rose to die in Cinder’s arms. And so Cinder killed the king who had kidnapped Rose by punching through his chest and into his heart.

And then Cinder got a somewhat happy ending, in which she met Rose’s clone who had Rose’s memories.

What if Cinderella was a Sci-Fi lesbian? Well here she is. She has a whole love song about searching the stars for her girlfriend after their wedding was interrupted and she was taken away. She spends years searching only to when she finally finds and embraces her watch her be shot. Cinders is so devastated by this that she plunges her wedding ring into the heart of the man who shot her love killing him.

Lesbian space princess who elopes with the terrifying soldier who was previously conquering her planet and spends decades searching for her when they’re separated. Listen to her song https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=6w9V-gMgBF4

I think the way she punches the evil king through the heart as revenge for her wife is pretty neat.

She’s a revolutionary married to a woman, what’s not to love? From Cinders’ Song: “ When I was a little girl, my mother always told me / “Someday your prince will come, my love” / But as I grew, I knew it was a princess who would hold me”.

her girlfriend got cloned and most of said clones were brutally slaughtered in war and she searched for her girlfriend all throughout the galaxy and when they were finally reunited on the battlefield her girlfriend died. and a clone of her girlfriend who due to technical errors retained her memories, so does that count as the same girlfriend? theseus’s girlfriend? anyway vote for cinders she’s been through hell

Lesbian!! Has to search for her lost love Rose with her glass wedding ring that changes color when its near its partner!! Gets to embrace Rose once again for one final moment before the villain kills Rose right in front of her!! So Cinders kills him in return!! And she’s left as (almost) the only surviving main character from her own album but!! She is eventually reunited with a clone of Rose, and while they cannot have a truly ‘happy ever after’ together they are the ones graced with the closest thing to it

SPACE LESBIANS (she’s in love with Rose Red, who gets kidnapped on their wedding day and Cinders searches the galaxy to find her, waiting for her white ring to turn crimson, indicating that its twin was near) She took her name from the ashes of her burning planet <3 She also killed Old King Cole >:)

shes a tragic lesbian and killed a violent dictator shes literally the best

shes gay shes traumatized she dates both rose red and sleeping beauty. badass space wanderer looking for her wife

Her wife Rose gets kidnapped on their wedding day and Cinders spend the next thirty years looking for her. She finds her (:D) and then Rose dies (D:) and then Cinders kills the guy who killed Rose (girlboss).

shes a lesbian. she lost her wife, Rose (yes, as in sleeping beauty) the day they got married bc she was kidnapped. she spent 20 YEARS looking for her. as soon as she found her wife, Rose DIED IN HER ARMS. Cinders has gone through Too Much to lose this poll

(Her info from the wiki) the Princess of a planet burnt by King Cole’s army, after it is ceded by her stepmother. She is imprisoned, meets Rose and plans to marry her. She is released by her godmother for the wedding, then flees when the attack happens, spending thirty years looking for Rose. Her half of the wedding ring will light up when she finds Rose.

“When I was a little girl, my mother always told me 'Someday your prince will come, my love’ But as I grew, I knew it was a princess who would hold me I looked to the stars for you, my love” She’s lesbian Cinderella IN SPACE. She fell in love with her wife in prison and they ran away to have a secret marriage but the empire kidnapped Rose on their wedding night and Cinders had to leave her behind. She searches for Rose for decades with the glass ring that guides her to its twin on her wife’s finger. She finally reunites with her love after Rose rips three supersoldiers to pieces with her bare hands (hot) but then then the evil king kills Rose so Cinders fucking punches through his heart. And then a clone of Rose (who is also lesbian Sleeping Beauty IN SPACE) finds her cradling her wife’s body and they have a happy reunion(?) and maybe they didn’t have a happy ending BUT WHAT IF THEY HAD EACH OTHER? HUH? AAAAAH

she’s everything. she’s a princess from a long since conquered planet. she was imprisoned to make a statement of the brutal reign of old king cole. she met her wife while she was in prison, a beautiful brutal soldier covered in scars from battles. cinders and rose fell in love, so cinders’ godmother in white broke her out of jail so rose and cinders could be together. they were going to be married, except that OLD KING COLE intervened and kidnapped rose to make her the genetic base of his unholy army. so cinders spends THIRTY YEARS searching the galaxies for her love (and sings a really cool song about it called “Cinders’ Song”) until finally she arrives during the final battle just in time to see old king cole SHOOT ROSE DEAD. so cinders punches the king so hard (with her wedding ring) that he just Crumples Into Dust. the end! (no we do not talk about the fiction.)

lesbian, for one, and for two i don’t really care i just think it’d be cool if she got in/if she made it past the first round

no one seems to have linked cinder’s song yet, so here [Link]

better yet, listen to the whole album too, for context and also what comes after. it slaps and also tragedy it’s such a good album suhc a good band too

Someone already sent the song as propaganda, so I will provide SPOILER propaganda. [Click link to see spoilers.]

[Link]

[draco-dormiens]

FOR ALL THAT IS RIGHT AND JUST - Chp. 2

auror!draco x auror!fem!slytherin reader / post-war au

warnings: mild violence, draco is an insufferable flirt, mutual pining, drama!!

wc: 2762

tags: @yeolsbubbles @send-me-styles @shinytalent @malfoylover4l @satorulevi

tag list open!!

masterlist

Suspicious Wizard on the Hogwarts Express

Draco made sure to meet you outside of your apartment complex that morning. As much as his sarcastic and humorous nature shone through, he was also a very worrisome person, especially when it came to those close to him. Within his circle of remaining friends, it was safe to say that you were the most precious and cherished one of them all.

Many years ago, as you grew up in the countryside of England, you had met Draco Malfoy for the very first time. Perhaps four or five years old, hiding behind your mother's skirt as the Malfoy family graciously welcomed you to their home one New Years Eve. Draco's mother, Narcissa, was one of the most elegant women you had ever seen, and you remember thinking how she looked like a lady from your fairy-tale books. She knelt down to your level and introduced herself, little Draco holding on to her hand, as she kindly asked your name.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," she said softly, "this is my son, Draco. What's your name, dear?"

From that moment on, it was as if you had known Draco in a past life. The two of you, along with children from other pureblood families, played in the ginormous garden that backed onto the magnificent Malfoy manor, and hours were lost hiding in the hedges from one another and running, screaming and laughing until the sky went dark. You would sleep in his four poster bed with silky green bed sheets and throws knitted in the Slytherin house colours, attend birthday parties, Christmas parties, and all matter of occasions at Draco's home. Life was a bottled dream of endless fun and contentment, and the first five years of school were just as momentous.

It wasn't until your third year that you started seeing Draco a little differently. When he'd returned from his family holiday and met you on the train platform, a new feeling erupted in your body and took the words right out of your mouth. You distinctly remember how long you embarrassingly stared at him, upon realising that the little boy you once knew was growing into a fine young man. His hair was different; not long and slicked back, but framing his face in the most wonderful way. He was taller, his body more refined from Quidditch, and his facial features had matured. In fact, he wasn't Draco at all - he was a handsome boy you'd just met for the first time in your life. He laughed at your gawking expression, before playfully pushing your shoulder and saying, "You'll catch flies, Y/L/N," before embracing you in a bone crushing hug. And it was in that moment, when he hugged your body against his, that you knew the feeling blossoming in your chest was different.

Unbeknownst to you, however, Draco was having just as hard a time absorbing the look of your maturing self. Your uniform fit different now, and your hair was silky and neatly presented. As you were growing up, certain elements of adolescence were kicking in, and Draco was starting to forget the little girl that would cry when she scraped her knee and ran around after him claiming he was far too fast to keep up with. Now, he was seeing a young woman, and realising how undeniably pretty his best friend truly was. In fact, he thought you were simply divine.

And he still does - to this very day.

"Ah, there she is," he announces, as you appear from the entrance to your building, rolling your eyes as he dramatically holds his arms out towards you, "the most wonderful woman in the world. Do me the honours of a hug, would you, ma'am?"

You oblige him, of course, still completely oblivious that his sarcasm was in fact his honest truth. He seemed more relaxed than yesterday in Harry's office, but you knew it was his most trained ability to bury his emotions. It was a sad reality, really. The two of you had cared for one another in a way that surpassed friendship for so long and yet, here you still were, hugging as friends. The fear of losing what you had built throughout your lives together; the friendship, the bond, the trust  - it was terrifying to think it could all be lost at sea if you pursued those bottled feelings, just to end up severing the golden ties that had kept you together for so long. The unknown of it had kept you the same all these years, trying to feel that fire with other people and getting a cold, frosty breeze instead.

"Draco, you're squishing me." You mumble into his shoulder, and he lets go, smiling down at you with a toothy grin, "we have to do our best today," you then tell him seriously, "going back will be... hard, but we have an important job. Harry is depending on us."

"Do you have no faith in me?" he holds a hand over his chest, looking completely devastated and ignoring how you were trying to make him feel more at ease with returning, "how could you say such a thing, to your best friend? Honestly, I like to think myself rather serious."

"You know that's not what I mean," you then say, slightly softer, and he swallows thickly, the sarcastic look he was so well known for wiping from his face immediately.

"Let's not start with that," he then smiles, as if he pressed a switch and his steely exterior was back in place of his much more vulnerable one, "Potter's depending on us, like you said, right?"

Platform 9 3/4 was practically teeming with people. Students you had known as teenagers now fully grown adults, some even with families and children, all arriving to take part in the memorial that afternoon. Professors from past years and even representatives from other wizarding schools were all waiting to board the train to Hogwarts. Being back there after so many years felt very foreign. So many memories, good and bad, were shared on that train. Tears were shed and smiles were shared on the platform where you stood. You feel Draco's hand on your waist as he leaned in to whisper something.

"Don't be alarmed," he said lowly, "but I've already seen someone I'm not too keen on."

"Where?" you ask quietly, and Draco tells you to look towards a man dressed in a tweed suit, smoking a pipe as he leans against far wall. By his feet is a briefcase, in his hands the Daily Prophet. The front cover had large letters that read: Memorial at Hogwarts: Ten Years On. "What's raised your suspicion, Malfoy?"

Draco begins to walk you along the platform, hand still on your waist. "First," he begins, "he's alone. Do you see anyone else standing by themselves? He's deliberately standing out of the way, covering most of his face with that paper. Second, he has a briefcase. What would he need that for? Staying for a few nights at Hotel Hogwarts? Don't think so." He stops you both at the entrance to one of the carriages, "and lastly, I just don't care for his demeanor. Something feels off about the way he's watching everyone. It's like he's looking for someone in particular."

Sometimes Draco reminds you why his talents as a Auror were renowned. Thanks to his family's name, much like your own, the war had affected him in ways others couldn't comprehend. It was his chance to make a difference and break out of the mold that his family had set him in, and his success is proof that he's not the cowardly accomplice everyone once thought he was. You admire him for a moment, in awe of his observation skills. When his eyes meet yours again, he gives you a lopsided smile. "Like what you see?"

A furious heat spreads over your cheeks as you pull your eyes from him. You can feel the way he's looking at you in such a smug way, knowing full well how much of a kick he gets out of casually flirting with you. You push his hand from your waist.

"Shut up," you snap lightly, "None of your... jokes, Draco. If you feel strongly about what you said then we should keep an eye on him. Watch what carriage he gets into."

The whistle on the Hogwarts Express bellows throughout the station, signalling its passengers to get on board. Carriage doors open, and people begin piling on. Both you and Draco hang back slightly, taking a mental note of where the suspicious man enters the train, and follow the crowd that he boards with. As he takes his seat at the farthest end of the carriage, Draco leads you to a seat just behind him, but with enough of a view to keep a watchful eye. You both sit, eyes flickering to the man every so often. You notice how no one interacts with him, as if not a soul on that train knew him. He opens up the paper once more, and stays on the same page for a curious amount of time. With so many people around, it was hard to communicate with Draco to see what he was thinking, but with one wink in your direction, you knew he was on the same page.

"Can't remember it taking this long," Draco says in your ear after some time chugging along the English countryside, "how did we pass the time back then?"

"I remember playing eye spy with Daph and Pans," you smile at the memory, "you, Blaise and Theo just talked about girls mostly. Or sometimes the next Quidditch season."

"Blaise and Theo had way more ladies than me," Draco then defends himself, and you look across at him, head resting against the seat and another one of those smirks on his face, "I can't even remember dating anyone back then."

"I thought you had a thing with Pansy at one point?" You laughed quietly, and he grimaced.

"That was... yeah. Not fond of that memory." Draco shakes his head and scrunches up his nose. You giggle that sweet sound he's always been so fond of, "anyway, what about you? Remember Marcus Flint? He had a huge thing for you."

"Flint?" you exclaim softly, "oh Merlin, Dray. I can't get into that."

He adored when you called him that. A little piece of your school years that never left. It may have only been a nickname, but it was said with such warmth that he'd long to hear it. Even now, he cherishes the moments it falls from your lips. Then a rather sickly feeling starts to swirl in his stomach, remembering that recently, you'd gone out on a date with a guy called Eddie Carmichael. Eddie was a Ravenclaw in the year above you. It was a shock to hear from him after such a long while, but he had recently visited the Auror office regarding some miscalculations in his business he couldn't quite explain, and his case was assigned to you.

Three dates later and he was ready to be serious - unfortunately for him, that was never on your agenda. He was nice, and would surely treat someone right one day, but that someone just wasn't you. Eddie tried to owl a few times since, but had given up not too long ago. Draco, after eyeing the man you were watching and noticing he hadn't move a muscle, had the sudden urge to ask you about it. He didn't usually pry on your dating life. After all, he'd rather not know.

"So, Carmichael," he says, his usual confident tone masking any sincerity, "are you a thing?"

"I haven't seen him in a month," you say dismissively, wanting to talk about anything other than this topic of conversation, "he was nice and all. Just wouldn't work out."

Draco nods, and then a thick silence falls over the both of you. It was awkward for a moment, as it normally was when either of your romantic escapades were mentioned. Then you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine.

"Anyway, I heard you took a Hufflepuff out," you say as casually as possible, "take it she was just for the night, then?"

Draco laughs and runs a hand through his hair, worried that you might hear how hard his heart was thundering against his ribcage. His romantic life was anything but that; mostly made up of one night stands and unanswered letters, and he hated that you knew that. It wasn't his proudest trait, but he just hadn't found anyone to settle with.

His mind was always everywhere but the person in front of him.

"She was alright," he clears his throat and looks out the window at the passing fields, "not much to talk about. She's much better off dating someone else."

You decide not to say anymore, already regretting the decision to ask. The conversation was quickly forgotten however, when the castle appeared over the brow of a hill, basking in the sunlight of the Scottish highlands, as majestic as ever. People in the carriage began to point and comment on its beauty, as the man who you were watching began to get up. You nudge Draco hard, and his attention snaps to the man now walking down the aisle of the carriage. The two of you rise, the commotion about the castle acting as a smoke shield to your movements, and follow him, at a distance, through your carriage and into the next. You both take a seat at the back of the next carriage, in case he turns to see you behind him. As he walks, he appears to drop a small piece of paper on the ground. You look at it suspiciously, and before you can say anything, it bursts open with a thick, black cloud of smoke that begins to fill up the carriage to the ceiling. The passengers begin to panic, confused voices and parents desperately calming their children. Draco grabs your wrist, as to let you know he's still there. Feeling your way through the smoke, you eventually end up at the door to the next carriage. Draco's hand is still around your wrist, and you feel him pull you into his chest as he leans over and opens the carriage door. The smoke begins filtering out, and as it does, you notice the man from before, desperately trying to detach the carriage connection.

"Oh no you don't." You shout, and kick your heel into his hands. The man retracts with a wailed cry, and looks up at you with disgust in his face. Draco grabs his wand as the man draws his own. You tell the passengers to get back into their seats, as a spark of red spurts out the end of the man's wand. Draco deflects it expertly, but the man wasn't finished. He opens his mouth, raising his wand in the air as the forbidden words begin to leave his lips.

"Avada-"

With the wind whistling through the carriage, the train flying along the track at break-neck speed, passengers screaming, Draco decides to resort to the old fashioned way of doing things before the man can finish the curse. He grabs the man by the collar and drags him back into the carriage, all the while the speed of the train causing his white-knuckle grip to loosen against the side of the carriage. As soon as the man hits the floor with a thud, you point your wand and yell; "Petrificus Totalus!" The man freezes, Draco slams the door shut, and for a moment, an ear piercing silence falls over the carriage. You look up at Draco, his chest heaving, leaning against the door with his hand in his hair.

"Who is that man?" a woman asks, clutching her child to her side, "how did he get on here?"

"Don't worry, ma'am, we're from the Ministry," you take your badge out of your pocket and relief floods her face, "I can't answer any questions yet, but I can promise that you are safe with us."

Draco lifts himself off the door and wanders over to stand above the frozen man on the floor. He plucks the wand from the man's hand and inspects it before shoving it into his pocket. He then takes the newspaper sticking out of his briefcase, and kicks the briefcase along to you. You stop it just under your foot. He then reminds you why it's best to be on his good side, as he flashes the nastiest, tethering on evil smile you've ever seen at the culprit.

"Thanks old chap," he says in a condescending tone, "hope you haven't done the crossword."

disclaimer: i do not own harry potter or any of the characters or storyline associated with it

[cozy-fantasy-stories]

Suvi is *by far* my favorite character in WBN. Like I get Ame and her idealism, and I get Eursulon and his passion, the Fox is hilarious and a fantastic foil.

But Suvi. My god Suvi.

I’m on my first relisten and she’s magnificent at every turn.

Children’s adventure and she stays inside. Does as she’s told. Doesn’t go out in the dark. Cleans up the bathroom! Waits. Alone.

She makes it in time—Grandmother Ren calls her my granddaughter and I am slain. Casts identify on the house!

Immediately says yes to helping Ame find the sword. No question. She doesn’t have to. But she does it.

Leaves a coin for the family and helps with the damn laundry! Do you know how practical that is?!

Immediately solves the being stuck problem for Eursulon. Terrifies that horrible little man with a Wild One under his boot. She rescues the music box, no question. Eursulon is free.

And Emliss.

Emliss.

Terrifying.

She ends Emliss, the Chalice, the shadow. The thing that *kills* Ame in a single turn.

The *indignity* of having to pay a hustler (FINLEY) for her mother’s coat lining. Yeah, okay, Eursulon went and made it all right (bet he never pays her back). But Ame talking about payment when she doesn’t even have money?!

Who fights for Suvi? Who defends her? Who thinks of her?

Ame making assumptions about the Citadel. (yes yes we get it institution bad we know what we’re listening to) But come on! Ame has no knowledge at this stage, just judgement!

Will Gallows. The Ace of Wands.

They never get the sword without Suvi in that room. Ice in her veins. Ice.

Who asked for “I’d like to count you among my friends.” Eursulon has the string in his pocket, but Suvi is the one who bargained for it.

Don’t even get me started on the Chantry and Morrow. I’m not doing it.

She gets them SAFE.

Resolves problems and defends her people with confidence and conviction.

She doesn’t deserve that dressing down from Steel. She doesn’t.

And Ame vanishes.

Off to talk to a murderess goddess that would end Port Talon in a heartbeat.

Of course Suvi goes to rescue her. Immediately! NO QUESTION. You think a search party would have found Ame?! With Orima of the Reaching Green as pissed as she was? HA. (but yes she’s thinking of Steel she doesn’t want to let Steel down not again not Steel)

Three days of walking and walking and walking.

(okay but Aabria having Suvi lose it is freaking brilliant and just absolutely incredible role play absolute perfection what a way to lean in)

And then Steel. Again.

Larger than life.

With the yelling. And the power. And the telemet.

Calls her a princess (dismissive) questions her like a prisoner (her adoptive mother really) and knows about the King of Night (suspicious).

And then.

Naram.

The Wild One heeds a call. The Witch arbiters consequences.

Our Wizard saves the godsdamned day.

She doesn’t run when it’s the derrick that’s at stake. She gets it. Even though she’s said awful things (you get what you get what a LINE trap a spirit and you get what you get bet she feels that way about Eursulon she trapped him she deserves it).

Suvi’s brilliance is not about what she says it’s about what she does. Galani mentions Orima and Suvi immediately moves.

Suvi’s quick thinking saves Port Talon.

Actually saves Port Talon.

She’s the one that does it. She’s the one that leads Orima to Naram. The reaching green and its *stranglers* and its indifferent cruelty to those in its way. ON THREE HIT POINTS.

And then Steel has the AUDACITY to act disappointed. (it’s not at Suvi not really but still).

Impossible odds.

Complex character choices and she carries the weight of the world on her shoulders. Always thinking, strategizing, anticipating.

SUVI.

Love Suvi.

She makes the right choice. Every time.

[ancientgoddessofegypt]

Astrology Theories : The Sun & The Moon

Hey! So todays astrology theory post will focus primarily on the moon/sun and the aspects and signs pertaining to it.

Let me start off by saying, people who carry the aspects connecting the sun and moon together, will be easily likeable, as well as someone who can be a team player and be a beacon for people. There is a sense of inspiration that comes out of them because the blending of these two come together and makes for something totally unique for the individual and their experience. There is a special persona that comes out of these characters who hold this placement, and the way they share it is magnificent.

Sun Conjunct The Moon - To be, this gives the energy of someone who is the first born in the family. Could naturally be a caretaker, could become a leader and be in these roles easily because of their inner nature. Could process their emotions differently, and may need small amounts of alone time, depending on the sign they both are in this can show a bit differently. These characters are born under a new moon, so their can be experiences we're they can reimagine and start over their lives for the greater good of themselves and possible the world.

Sun Opposite The Moon - Big personalities. Big possibilities. Bigger lessons. You get the picture. Everything seems more intense because of the power trip the full moon gives the sun, but they both work hand in hand together and make things powerful with their magic. Now I can assure you, they are not to be messed with. Their energy can create waves because they are use to the tides always shifting in different directions. They gotta make it work in order to balance themselves out. This ain't a walk in the park, got it? Inspiration moves right through them as they are processing their own vibration and people will tend to catch this energy and want to know more about them.

Sun Square The Moon - Creatrix. Beautiful liars. Sociopaths. Can be likeable, can be unlikeable. It depends on the upbringing. There is so many different ways to express the complexities of this placement, because they are used to being the black sheep as well as the golden child at the same time. Could very much so like to have it their way, but the world forces them to appease to others.. and vice versa. They have relationship issues do to parental problems where the parents put their needs before the child. They could of had strange upbringings with the family and learned how to occupy their time with developing their personalities their own way and keeping that unique personality to themselves. They could be selfish, they could be sweet. They could be generous, they could be mean. You never know what you're going to get with them, or when those tides can change. Cause it all depends on how their feeling, after all.

Sun Trine The Moon - Attractors. Manifestors. Healers. Creators. The people with this placement seem to have an eye for detail. Could potentially erase years of trauma and guilt from their family tree, and could strive to create better for the future head. Could be very good leaders, and someone who just knows what they want.. and they're not afraid to get it. They have great potential to be somebody in this lifetime, and could use this potential to help others see this light within them as well. They have to choose the right people in their space so that they can bloom more, it just works that way. Truly being who they are, is how they will maintain a lifetime of success. Reaching for the stars is in their nature, because they know that they are one themselves.

Sun Sextile The Moon - Healers. Potential. Channelers. Potion Makers. Could be deemed crazy. The Sextile gives a promise that these individuals can utilize this energy and can create excitement around what it is they desire. This aspect is good creating space and community for people like them. And can be somewhat of a mirror for anybody who needs to channel that energy into something new. Could be very delightful and fun to get alone with it. Could be shy and full of nervousness. Could be someone who gets their needs met by sharing their emotional needs with others. They need a safe space to survive.

[skzhocomments]

please 735 with hyunjin ☺️

General Masterlist

Request me a story

---

Writing Prompt 735 - “I have to walk away. I have to leave.” - Hyunjin

Word count: 2.6k words

Wattpad | AO3

~

Falling in love was one of the most beautiful feelings Hyunjin’s heart's ever gotten to know. From the moment he’s first seen you, it was like all the novels he’s ever read finally made sense. All the love songs, all the poems, everything he’s ever heard about love proved to be real, not just a fragment of an inspired person’s imagination.

Love, what a strange feeling it was. How weird it was to fall head over heels for someone he didn’t even know the name of.

He never thought it would happen to him. Not like this. 

He remembers that day perfectly. It was late April, the cherry blossoms were in bloom, and in-between the concerts and the tight schedules, he had a day off.

It was rare to be able to go on his own to a new city just to explore, to get lost in the intricate architecture, to breathe in the scent of unfamiliar streets, taste new foods and simply enjoy being a normal person, far away from his otherwise extremely overwhelming life.

On that day, he left the hotel with no plan in mind. All he wanted to do was to be a tourist, to head nowhere in particular and to enjoy as much as possible before his departure the next day. New show, new city, new people, new everything. It was tiring, really, to always be on the way somewhere, so he decided that for this outing, he wouldn’t be on the way to anywhere.

He wanted to be a regular person for a change, not the famous Hyunjin.

And so, he began walking slowly, his hands in his jeans, a cap on his head and a mask covering half of his face. He dressed as modestly as he could, making sure to not draw any attention, and he walked and walked and walked, smiling to himself and feeling truly happy for the first time in a long while.

Sure, being on stage made him happy; Stray Kids made him happy, and he enjoyed being at home with his family. But being on his own in a new place, just able to walk and enjoy a warm spring day? That’s when he truly felt free.

For the first two hours, he simply walked with a coffee in his hand, sipping once in a while. He sat on a few benches here and there, and then he resumed his walk, until eventually, he found himself in front of a beautiful building, maybe the most beautiful he’s ever seen ever since he left the hotel.

At closer inspection, he realised that the building was actually an art museum, and how perfect that was for him. He never planned on coming there, but being in front of such a magnificent museum, he felt like he could find answers to all his questions, and that he would finally be able to get over his art block.

He went in, paid for his ticket and got scanned for any weapons at the entrance like any other person, and he smiled to himself once more at the thought that no one recognised him. No one knew who he was, so he could just be someone else for a little while – not famous, not Versace’s Prince, not Stray Kids’ best dancer or visual or whatever else the media said about him.

And what a liberating feeling that was!

He walked and admired works of art for hours. The museum was so large, so impressive, he could just walk for a whole day in it and not get bored.

Unfortunately though, all the walking ended up making his legs grow tired, so he took the liberty to sit down on one of the benches inside. He picked his spot carefully, finding the most complex painting he could, and to his delight, there was a bench right in front of it.

The day couldn’t have been more perfect.

But then, as he approached the bench, he spotted you.

You weren’t anything extraordinary. You weren’t dressed particularly nice, you didn’t wear any make-up, and your eyes seemed very tired, but still, something about you made Hyunjin unable to take his eyes away.

You came and sat down right next to him, but you couldn’t care less about him, he noticed. You didn’t spare him even one glance. Instead, you focused on your apparent task at hand, which was taking out a large notebook out of your backpack and opening it up on a blank page. You then looked at the painting for a good fifteen minutes, Hyunjin counted, and after your intense staring, your eyes darted back to your notebook as you took out a pencil and began sketching.

Hyunjin was so drawn to the way you were drawing, each line sketched with perfect precision and confidence, and he found himself lacking. It was always hard to sketch, and his drawings never came out the way he wanted them to.

He watched you for more than an hour as you drew line after line, and when you were mostly done, you raised your notebook in the air and looked at your sketch, comparing it to the large painting in front of you.

Your face was displeased, Hyunjin noticed, and what you did next shocked him to the core. You clicked your tongue and ripped the paper away from the notebook, crumbling it with a soft sigh and a shake of your head.

“Oh, God!” He exclaimed loudly. He didn’t mean to do so, but he was genuinely shocked, and he couldn’t hold it in.

You turned to look at him with a confused expression, noticing for the first time that someone was sitting next to you. You were so absorbed with drawing that you couldn’t bring yourself to care about your surroundings at all, so it was no surprise that you didn’t see this random man staring at you for the past hour.

“Uhm…” You started, “Were you talking to me?”

“Yes… sorry… it’s just that I think your drawing was very beautiful. Why would you crumble it like that?” Hyunjin spoke, realising he might’ve been out of line.

“Oh, this?” You chuckled. “It’s shit, man. It’s the third time I’m trying to do this, but I just can’t get it right.”

“What? You got it perfectly!” He insisted.

“No.” You chuckled again. “But thank you for saying that. I appreciate it.”

As you replied, you sighed again and turned your attention back to your notebook, and so, you began drawing again.

“Are you going to try it again?”

“Obviously.”

“Why?”

“Exam.” You replied shortly, your eyes so focused, Hyunjin found it rude to interrupt you again.

Still, he couldn’t take his eyes away, completely captivated by how focused you looked when sketching. He decided to be rude once more, not truly wanting to disturb your concentration, but wanting to make sure that you wouldn’t mind his presence.

“Do you mind if I stay here and watch?”

“And why would you do that?” You asked, your eyes still stuck to your notebook.

“I’m an… aspiring artist, you could say. My sketches are not nearly as good as yours, so I feel like I could learn a lot from your technique.” Hyunjin replied truthfully.

“Sure, I don’t mind.” You shrugged, so Hyunjin decided to keep silent this time around, and he just watched how meticulous you’d draw each line, fully immersed in your creative process.

It took you two hours to finish, but when you finally put your notebook in the air the second time, you seemed more satisfied with the result.

“What do you think?” You asked, turning to look at him with a genuine smile, and he felt his heart skip a beat.

“I think that’s very beautiful. I love the shadows you added there, and I can’t understand for the life of me how you’ve managed to perfectly capture the viewer’s perception of all the elements.” Hyunjin took in a breath and then looked back at the original painting, before his eyes darted once more to your drawing. “The proportions are perfect as well. You nailed it.”

“Really?” You replied with an even larger smile.

“Yes.” Hyunjin chuckled a bit at your enthusiasm.

“Do you have any of your drawings with you? I’d love to see them.” You smiled once more, your eyes sparkling with excitement, and Hyunjin felt glad that he carried his notebook with him at all times.

He pulled it out of his bag and handed it to you, and you immediately began looking through it, nodding your head ever so slightly every once in a while.

“These are great.” You spoke eventually.

“What can I improve?”

“Hmm… let’s start with this one, maybe?” You showed him a drawing and began pointing out which areas he should work on better, and you even showed him a few examples by quickly resketching his drawings in your own notebook.

“Is the museum closing?” He asked after some time has passed – hours, to be more specific, which he didn’t even realise. He enjoyed so much talking with you about art, that time stood still, and the world around him didn’t matter anymore.

“Oh, I think so. We should go.” You chuckled.

“I really enjoyed talking with you… and I’d really love to talk to you and see you again. If you want to, of course.” Hyunjin said as you both made your way to the exit.

“Oh, me too, but… I’m currently just visiting my family. I got a scholarship and I’m attending a University in Korea this year, so I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to meet you again…” You smiled sadly. "We could text, though."

“Wait,  in Korea? Really? Where? In Seoul?”

“Yes.”

“I actually live there myself! Well, I’ll be back there in around two weeks, but still!”

“Really?” You gasped. “That’s such a fortunate coincidence!”

“Right? I can’t believe it!” He laughed. “Then… could you give me your number, maybe?”

~

That’s how you and Hyunjin started talking every day. He would send you sketches or random pictures he’d take around the world, and at first, you had no clue who he was or why he was travelling so much. It came as a shock when he eventually told you that he’s famous. You genuinely couldn’t believe it that this random man who’s grown to be such a consistant part of your day-to-day life in such a short time was actually a superstar.

You regretted catching feelings for him, because you never thought you’d be lucky enough for him to reciprocate them, but when he confessed that he’s also been harbouring much the same feelings as you did, you were over the moon, and so was Hyunjin.

Love was simply the most beautiful feeling in the world for him, and falling in love with you through your every day chats and multiple meet-ups throughout the week has been one of the best moments of his life.

But nothing could’ve prepared him for falling out of love.

The pain was tough, but the guilt was almost unbearable.

Hyunjin didn’t know how it happened or why, but he found himself replying less and less often to your texts, and he didn’t get much joy in receiving messages from you anymore. Talking to you used to be the part of the day he was looking forward to the most, but all of a sudden, he could go hours without replying to you and he wouldn't even notice anything missing.

He still enjoyed your presence and talking with you about your common interests once in a while, but the spark he once felt was simply gone, and it scared him. It made him feel like a horrible person. 

And the worst part of it all? No one understood him. No one seemed to know the answers to the questions in his heart, or the internal battle he’d been fighting.

Except for you.

You immediately felt the shift in his feelings, in the way he would hug you and kiss you. Making love felt more like sex than love, which was such a weird feeling when you were used to Hyunjin being so passionate about anything concerning you.

But you felt him slipping away through your fingers with each delayed text, with each cancelled plan, and you knew the end was coming.

It was agony to come to terms with the fact that your love only lasted for 6 months, especially when you were still so in love with him, and you were longing his presence more and more every day.

You felt that it was fate that brought you two together. It was fate working its weird, little ways of having both of you live in the same city, even if only temporarily. It was fate that Hyunjin and you had the same interests, the same taste in music, the same passions.

So, why? Why would fate be so cruel to deal you these hands of a short-lived love?

But, despite feeling this uncertainty for a while, you couldn’t bring yourself to let him go. You never voiced these concerns to him, no matter how much it hurt you, and you let himself become more and more distant.

Each time you’d make a plan with him, you would wonder if it would be last time you’d see each other – if he would finally get enough courage to tell you that he’s no longer in love with you.

You even began realising that he was probably never actually in love with you, but with the idea of love itself, and it hurt. It hurt so badly.

And so, with the November rain mercilessly crashing against your windows, you knew everything was bound to change, much like the seasons outside. The beautiful autumn was quickly turning into a harsh winter, just as you were anticipating the apparently inevitable break-up. 

You were waiting for Hyunjin to come to your apartment, and when he got there, you immediately realised that this would be the day he would finally muster up his courage and break up with you.

Damien Rice was playing in the background as you two walked in your small kitchen and sat down at the table, and with the way he was averting his gaze, you knew.

“Listen…” he started, so you kept quiet. “I have to tell you something…”

“Alright.” You nodded with a soft smile, conveying all the sadness you’ve been feeling for the past few weeks. “I’m listening.”

“I don’t… I’m so, so sorry… I don’t even know how to say this in a better way, or how to apologise, and I’ve tried to change it so hard, but no matter what I did, I realised… I don’t love you anymore.”

You were expecting this, but it still somehow took you off guard. You didn’t know what to reply.

“I’ve been thinking long and hard about this for the past couple of weeks, but… What I feel… it’s just not the same…”

“So… This is it, huh?” You asked in a quiet voice. “Is this how we’re breaking up?”

“Yes… I’m so sorry for everything. I wish I could still love you, but I… I have to walk away. I have to leave. I’m sorry.”

Tears began running down your cheeks in quick succession and you started sobbing quietly. Still, nothing Hyunjin would tell you would be able to comfort you in any way, so you decided to spare both of you of this relentless suffering. You just nodded and told him he could leave, and he did with no further words.

It broke your heart that such a passionate love turned you two into strangers so quickly, and although love used to warm up your heart, it now left you so unbearably cold, you didn’t know how you would pick back up the broken pieces of your shattered heart.

[inubaki]

The Sea Queen

Chapter 8

——

story commissioned by the amazing @libby-for-life! Based off one of the first pics @sir-tater-of-the-tot made that got me hooked on this fandom to began with. I blame them entirely.

———

Adam gazed out from the dim confines of his cave, the salty mist of the ocean gently curling around him, as he released a melancholy sigh. Years had drifted by like the sand on the ocean floor, and in the depths of his heart, he had lost count of how long he had been submerged beneath the waves. The promise that Lucifer had made—binding and unwavering—was now realized: their undersea home, once serene, was now a bustling haven for Krakens. Swarming about him were not just strangers of the deep but his own progeny, countless offspring and grand-offspring that he cherished, each a vibrant testament to his legacy.

Yet, as night cloaked the world outside and silence settled like a thick blanket, Adam often found his thoughts spiraling back to the life he had left behind. The tumultuous echoes of his former existence haunted him during these quiet hours. He recalled the laughter and warmth of those he had loved, the memories that felt like distant stars shimmering just out of reach. Night after night, while the Krakens slumbered or drifted off to their own homes, he couldn't shake the haunting realization that his found family—the one he had forged through trials and triumphs—was likely scattered by the currents of time, their stories entwined with the vast ocean, perhaps long forgotten by the world above.

The sorrow wrapped around him like the very sea that cradled his cave, and despite the love he felt for his undersea family, a deep longing for the days gone by weighed heavily on his heart. In moments of solitude, he grieved for the connections that had faded, leaving only shadows in the depths of his memory.

"My love, what are you doing out here?" Lucifer's deep, resonant voice cut through the tranquil sounds of the ocean. He approached Adam from behind, wrapping his strong, sinuous arms around him in a warm embrace. Adam leaned into the warmth, feeling a rush of affection as he turned to meet Lucifer's gaze. 

A soft smile graced Adam's lips, one that held a lifetime of memories. There had been a time, long ago, when he despised the creature that now enveloped him in tenderness. The memories of their horrible past felt like echoes of another life, fading with each passing year. Now, decades later, he found himself utterly captivated by the being before him, his heart swelling with love for the magnificent Kraken.

Being in Lucifer's presence had transformed Adam in ways he could have never imagined. His body had adapted to the depths of the ocean, growing delicate gills on the sides of his neck to breathe freely beneath the waves. His hands and feet had become webbed, enabling him to glide seamlessly through the water, a part of the aquatic world that Lucifer called home. Even his eyes had transformed, shifting to a shimmering slitted gold that caught the light like sunlit ripples on the surface. Every change was a testament to his deep bond with Lucifer. And probably because he had traces of his DNA inside him.

“Just thinking… you said you wanted to talk to me, right?” Adam inquired, his voice cutting through the murky depths as he turned to face Lucifer. The Kraken, usually so imposing and confident, suddenly faltered, his gaze dropping away as if he couldn't bear to meet Adam's eyes. The tension in the water hung thick like a heavy mist, signaling that whatever words were on the tip of Lucifer’s tongue were bound to be complex and laden with unspoken weight.

“My population is up again,” Lucifer finally said, his voice steady but devoid of the usual vibrancy. Adam tilted his head, intrigued yet confused, trying to decipher the meaning behind the cryptic announcement. “Our deal is complete. You no longer need to stay here any longer.” 

As those words settled in the space between them, a surge of confusion and disbelief coursed through Adam like a current. Did Lucifer actually mean it? The realization struck him with the force of a sudden tide, leaving him feeling disoriented and unsteady despite being submerged in water. Was he truly just going to dismiss Adam, letting him drift away from the bond they had formed? The thought churned his stomach, twisting it into a knot of nausea and despair.

“Unless you want something different. Jewels? Your own place? Whatever you desire, I’m willing to provide it,” Lucifer remarked, his tone far too casual and seemingly unaware of the storm of emotions raging within Adam. 

What did Adam truly want? The answer hit him like a bolt of lightning—he wanted to stay! He longed to be close to his Mate, reveling in that bond that felt so essential to his very being. But then a sudden realization washed over him: they were technically not fully mated yet. It was a crucial detail he had overlooked in the haze of their connection. 

When he had received his mating mark, he had been blissfully ignorant of the full implications of that sacred bond. The truth was clear now; the process would not be complete until he took that final, decisive step and claimed Lucifer as his own by biting back. 

As these thoughts spiraled in his mind, he glanced at Lucifer, who continued to speak, his demeanor carefree and his gaze diverted elsewhere, not yet meeting Adam’s desperate eyes. The weight of his unspoken feelings felt heavier with each passing moment, as uncertainty gnawed at the edges of his heart. Adam silently grappled with his needs and desires, torn between the instinct to connect and the reality of their incomplete union.

He didn't let Lucifer complete his sentence as he grabbed Lucifer's shoulders and bit his neck. The Kraken stilled as Adam easily broke through the skin. He made sure to clamp down hard, wanting his bite stick and Adam relaxed when he felt hands gently massage his back. "Adam?" Lucifer whimpered out. Adam let go, blood mixing in the water. "Mine. Mate. I want you. If you try to make me leave, I'll just hunt you down again. You don't get to leave me." Adam's form was trembling and that was when Lucifer saw Adam was on the verge of tears.

"My poor Adam." Lucifer said, "Of course I want you to stay." He smirked at Adam and brought him even closer. "Let me prove it to you." Adam's face turned red and he was brought deeper into the cave. It seemed they were going to add more children to their already huge family.

——-

I was going to save this till I added a little more. But with the fires and everyone sick, I’ll just make it another chapter. But letting anyone who’s interested know, that there will be more. This is more of a time skip. Like… a hundred years. The art is done by @sir-tater-of-the-tot!

pervs:

Next:

[mariacallous]

FLINT, Michigan ― The story of a wildly successful antipoverty program is also one of the most disheartening tales of Joe Biden’s presidency.

In 2021, Biden and congressional Democrats expanded a tax credit for children, transforming it from a targeted, sliding-scale subsidy to a simpler, more straightforward form of financial assistance. It was a version of an idea that’s become the hottest concept in antipoverty policy ― just giving people money, without restrictions on its use or complex eligibility procedures. By nearly all accounts, it worked magnificently. That year, the U.S. poverty rate hit a record low. The expansion was one of the COVID-19 relief measures in the American Rescue Plan, which passed on party lines. Biden and his allies had hoped to extend the program, making it permanent. But to do that, they needed every single vote from their 50-seat Democratic majority in the Senate. And they couldn’t get Joe Manchin, the conservative Democrat from West Virginia, to go along. The program expired at the end of the year.

Now, with the tax credit back to its more complicated, restrictive version, poverty is back up. And although a year’s worth of helping low-income families with kids surely did a lot of good, neither Biden nor the Democrats have gotten much credit for that. Few Americans are even aware of the program, or of Biden’s role in it. And among those familiar with the program’s history, the prevailing sentiment seems to be disappointment at the failure to make it permanent.

But there’s a coda to this story involving a new initiative in Flint, Michigan, that’s already helping hundreds of families. And it’s got political relevance, given that it probably wouldn’t have happened without the help of Biden and other Democrats.

If the program lives up to its billing, it could inspire copycat efforts around the country, fueling calls to resurrect a federal version of the program. But the prospects for those efforts depend on keeping sympathetic leaders in office, which in turn depends on what happens in the next election.

[ilongfor-the-arts]

Could you do a fanfic where the marquis meets the reader in a museum and they bond over their live of art

Meet Me in the Hallway

Pairing: Vincent de Gramont x fem! Reader

Warnings: VERY mild language

Summary: *in req*

Word Count: 2.3k

The Louvre has maintained a particular place in my heart for as long as I can remember. As a child, I recall visiting during tourist season. The other children darted around, driving their guardians to the brink of insanity. However, I stood in front of the immense paintings, carefully analyzing each aspect of the art. I remember visiting The Louvre as a teenager during the winter, when the immense corridors were barren. I'd find a place to sit and ponder, observing faces and objects in the quiet halls. I recall taking advantage of any occasion to talk about art with friends and family.

My friends were perplexed by my preoccupation. When I rambled on, they would nod and appear to be attentive. But I could always tell by the look on their faces that they were eager for my rant to end.

I've always been drawn to art's beauty. One bad stroke, one outburst of rage, and the finished result may be jeopardized. Art is more than just a painting or a sculpture; it is a way of life. You must be able to look beyond what the eye can see in order to produce art. You must be able to view the world in a completely unique way. You must look for a message behind the eyes rather than simply viewing things analytically. Painters paint, artists interpret.

That is what separates the good from the iconic.

I enjoyed the near silence as I wandered through The Louvre. Because it being January, the museum was nearly totally populated with a sprinkle of wandering locals. I took a tour around my favorite section, French paintings 1780-1850. The gold frames stood out against the dark burgundy walls.

The atmosphere was serene. As night fell, the hallway was illuminated exclusively by a few fluorescent lights. The sensation that washed over me was one of sheer nostalgia and amazement.

The dimness of room 700, when combined with the massive displays showcasing the complexity of the human mind, gave off an ominous vibe. There was everything and nothing at the same time.

Nothing else on the planet can make you feel this way.

I proceeded to one of the most well-known works of art in the entire museum.

Ah, one of my favorites, Liberty Leading the People. Eugene Delacoix created this work of art in the year 1830. Delacoix depicts a scene during the July Revolution of 1830, when King Charles X-

Woah.

My gaze was drawn to a man sitting on a beautiful white couch.

I tightened my teeth to keep my jaw from dropping to the floor.

He was breathtakingly beautiful.

Was he a tourist?

No way, no how. No tourist would dress up in an expensive three-piece black suit to visit the Louvre. He's got to be a local.

He was staring at the enormous painting, his mind fixed in deep thought. Many locals stopped to look at the paintings, but he seemed to be examining every face and object.

Should I introduce myself? It would be the polite thing to do as I’ve been obviously staring at him for-

“Did no one ever tell you it’s rude to stare?”

My trance was broken by his velvety accent. I hid my gitters by slipping my hands into the pockets of my beige trenchcoat.

“I’m sorry,” I said smugly, “You caught my eye.”

He sneered, a slight smirk playing on the edges of his lips. He couldn't take his gaze away from the painting. I swallowed, unsure how to dispel the uneasiness. The man uncrossed his lanky legs and pushed himself up to his full height.

He's tall, Jesus.

He strolled over to the picture, decreasing the distance between himself and the work of art to a few feet. He cocked his head upwards, his gaze wandering over the magnificent painting's many intricacies. The man put his hand on his hip and pushed his jacket to the side, revealing an astonishing variety of golden buttons along his vest.

“What do you think of this one?”

He asked, motioning with his free hand towards the canvas. I followed his movements, taking in the painting I know and adore.

“It’s a beautiful piece of art.”

I said hesitantly. The man chuckled, turning his head to meet my gaze. Despite being only three feet away, I found myself completely engrossed in his captivating green eyes.

“That’s it? It’s beautiful?”

His smirk now more prevalent than before. I exhaled a shuddery breath.

“Well, it’s one of the most famous paintings in art history. I think it's wonderful how this artwork has become a universal emblem of liberty and freedom from oppressive dominance.”

The man raised his eyebrows and nodded.

“That’s excellent insight. It’s good to meet people with an appreciation for the finer things in life.”

He returned his gaze to the canvas, motioning with his fingers for me to come towards him.

“Come closer, look at this.”

I was hesitant to approach this intimidating man, but my curiosity was far too strong to ignore. So I narrowed the gap between us to a mere six inches. As I took up a place next to him, our sides nearly brushed against each other.

He raised his finger to the stunning representation of liberty.

Take note of her features, such as her straight nose, plump lips, and delicate chin. They all look like antique Greek and Roman statues. She pays homage to both Ancient Greece, the birthplace of democracy, and Roman republican culture.”

I narrowed my eyes, mentally applying his words to the painting.

“Here, look at this,” I began, pointing to the left side of the painting.

“See that guy with the pistol? He's wearing a shirt but no jacket. He belongs to the lower class. But look at the man next to him; he's wearing a top hat, jacket, and vest. He belongs to the upper class. Delacroix aimed to include all classes of people in the fight against royalist oppression.”

The man exhaled in amazement.

“How fascinating. Delacroix’s artistic vision is truly unmatched.”

“I agree. This piece is probably my favorite in the entire museum.”

The man shrugged nonchalantly.

“It is certainly impressive. But my favorite would have to be Venus de Milo.”

He shifted his head to face me, sweeping his gaze up and down my figure. I shuddered, his heated gaze making me feel like I was under scrutiny.

“However, I suppose that opinion could simply be mine because I enjoy the presence of a beautiful woman.”

Holy shit was he flirting with me?

Heat climbed onto my cheekbones. I hoped my flush wasn't too visible, as his gaze was still fixed on me. I chuckled awkwardly.

“I suppose that could certainly contribute to your fondness of the piece.”

He motioned towards the white couch.

“Here, sit, let’s talk.”

He sat closer than I had expected. Our thighs were almost touching, and the arm slung around the back of the couch was almost brushing my shoulders. Despite the color on my cheeks and my minor intimidation of the man's large stature, I felt strangely at ease. I was intrigued rather than nervous. He exuded mystery, and I had every intention of unraveling the web of secrets.

“Do you believe talent like this is given at birth, or developed as the individual grows?”

I licked my lips, carefully contemplating my next words.

“Well, I believe we are all born blank canvases, and if we find something we are exceptionally passionate about, then we can grow those specific talents.”

I swallowed, hoping he was satisfied with that reply.

“How about you?”

“Oh, I believe people with true artistic talent are born with promise. Because if we go by your logic, anyone who loves art has the potential to become the next Delacroix.”

Wow, he was certainly quite the intellectual.

“Well, allow me to elaborate. Anyone can become a mediocre artist if they try,” I began, “but yes, I agree with you, only a few are born with the promise of artistic greatness. I mean, someone like Coco Chanel could never become the next Van Gogh or Delacroix, it just isn't meant to be. That isn’t where her talents lie.”

The man's lips curved into a smile. I locked my attention on his lovely green eyes. We were closer than I had imagined. His breath was cascading across my face. I inhaled sharply. He smelt amazing, like an expensive floral fragrance. It crept into my head, confounding my already hazy thinking.

“I like you… Miss…”

“Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N.”

His smile widened even more, splitting his face to reveal a stunning row of white teeth.

“What a gorgeous name... It’s fitting, a gorgeous name for a gorgeous woman.”

His accent was dripping with charm. There was no way in hell this man didn't have a significant other. He was far too enticing and attractive to be single.

“You know, plenty of people wander these halls, knowing every name of every piece. Yet they don’t contemplate the true meaning of the art.”

His eyes were drawn to Liberty Leading the People. The man’s tone became somewhat agitated as he ran his tongue along his smooth bottom lip, his eyes narrowing.

“They only think about the art, they don’t contemplate it.”

He inhaled deeply, his chest softly rising and sinking beneath the pricey cloth.

“Thinking is simple, thinking is the most simple thing in the entire universe for humankind. Anyone can think, but not everyone can contemplate.”

I concur. It was pleasant to meet a thinker who cared so deeply about the beauty of art.

“Who’s your favorite painter?”

My face broke into a genuine smile.

“Paul Cezanne.”

“And why is that, Miss. Y/N Y/L/N.”

I adored how he said my name. It rolled off his tongue effortlessly, like butter on a hot pan. I could spend the entire day sitting next to him on a couch at the Louvre, listening to him utter my name.

“Well, because his distinct color-building technique and his analytical approach to nature had a great impact on the art of Cubists, Fauves, and many generations of avant-garde artists.”

I've never encountered somebody who would listen to my raving with such enthusiasm. And there was no one who properly comprehended my words and had the knowledge to respond intelligently. Not only on the subject of art, but also on the issue of life.

“Ah!”

He exclaimed, shooting a finger towards me.

“There it is!”

His hand fell to his lap.

“You, Miss Y/N Y/L/N, do not just think, you were born with the gift of careful contemplation.”

I'd dated a few men previously, but none had ever made me feel as great as this mysterious man. And I'd only known him for about 30 minutes. My eyes lit up with wonder when I heard his voice, and I hung on to every word with excitement.

“You have a dizzying intellect.”

His velvety tone dropped to an endearing whisper. My stomach flipped.

“It is very rare I meet a woman with such beauty, not only in her appearance, but in her demeanor as well.”

His long fingers pushed a stray hair behind my ear. I nearly flinched before realizing the gesture was benign. I could still feel his contact on my cheek after he removed his fingertips. He set fire to every nerve he came into contact with.

“Will you grant me the opportunity to become your acquaintance?”

His eyes were filled with anticipation. There it was, the date I'd been looking forward to throughout the duration of this conversation.

“I would like that very much Mr…”

“Vincent de Gramont.”

I hummed in delight.

“That’s a handsome name. It’s fitting, a handsome name for a handsome man.”

I said, slightly mocking his previous remark.

Vincent chuckled.

“Oh, you are a comedian as well. I like you more and more as time goes on.”

Vincent waited for a beat of silence before rising to his full height. Being the one seated while he stood certainly flipped the script. I felt small under his demeanor as his presence was felt throughout the room. He was comfortable in his own skin, demanding control of the atmosphere like a conductor.

“My bodyguards will ensure that you have all the information necessary to find my estate.”

Bodyguards?!

He indicated to two men in gray suits who were standing with their backs against the nearest maroon wall.

Wow.

I surely hoped they wouldn’t be hanging around when I finally seized the opportunity to speak with Vincent in private.

“Wonderful.”

“My estate is beautiful if I do have to say so myself. You will enjoy it.”

I can only imagine how magnificent his house was if this was the suit he decided to wear for a chance visit to a museum.

“There is lots of space, plenty of rooms to explore and places to sit and talk for hours.”

I couldn't keep a smile from breaking my face. Who would have guessed that when I walked into the Louver today, I'd walk out with a lovely new date?

“That sounds like a dream come true. I can’t wait to see it.”

Vincent returned my grin.

“I can not wait for you to see it. You will melt.”

He extended his hand. I hesitated for a moment before realizing he wanted me to lay my palm in his. Vincent leaned down and kissed the top of my hand in an exceedingly trendy gesture.

Wow, very gentlemanly.

If my cheeks weren’t pink before, they surely were bright red now.

“Thank you for granting me the pleasure of becoming your acquaintance, I look forward to seeing you around my estate.”

After his departure, I remained seated on the couch. I was unable to move, wanting to preserve the moment for as long as possible

[astridhoff03]

My thoughts on Season 2 of the greatest Chaos in the World of DreamWorks TV…

Oh my gosh, did this season yet again not disappoint, even if it has a bit of a slow start, it is still a great story. I definitely can see past the little flaws, because it’s still a good show with emotional moments and thrilling adventures. Also at the end of the season it will get really dark, darker than the Jurassic World Trilogy ever could’ve gone. I got goosebumps just like watching the Jurassic Park movies. And more emotional than every movie in the Jurassic Park/World franchise. Such compelling, complex characters with well developed backstory’s. I honestly was speechless when I finished season two and thought again, wow they scored again with this show,

My favorite episode is definitely two because how they showed us, how Brooklynn reacts to the loss of her arm and the fact that everyone thinks she’s dead. Kiersten Kelly does a great job in executing Brooklynns emotional journey in this, I think she has took a bit inspiration of herself loosing an important part of the body.

And Soyona Santos is an incredible villain, her backstory is also really interesting and how she interacts in the whole show with Brooklynn is just amazing. My favorite scene of her is when she draws Brooklynn, she never was so intimidating and seems extremely intelligent and dangerous. Together with the Raptor Lady she’s now one of the best villains in the Jurassic Park franchise. Also I just noticed that the thing with the lazer makes actually a lot of sense, even if I think it’s not as scary as the whistle of the Raptor Lady. Also Soyonas animated version is prettier than her live action counterpart. It’s just funny how much more intimidating and dangerous the JW: Dominion villains are in the series.

What Brooklynn does is not good for her but I can also understand her, she wants to protect her friends and family. But it was sad to see that Ben was near at a panic attack when Brooklynn called him. Also Yaz and Sammy are still the cutest and heathliest relationship in the entire camp fam but I like that Darius and Kenji finally get along again, I missed their friendship and dynamic so much. Kenji has gone through so much, he’s the most tragic figure in the entire cast of how much he experienced loss in his life. And Yaz and Sammy have grown stronger together. I love how Sammy tries to decorate the container and Yaz watches her with so much love and admiration.

And don’t let me start on the dinosaurs this season. They were incredible. The Suchomimus or as Billy would said it Suchimimus has a beautiful design and many incredible action scenes, my favorite is when he fights the hippo. I also like the the communication between the Albino Baryonyx and the Atrociraptor Red, was very scary and also how he walked behind Brooklynn was bizarre. Leucotistic Baryonyx is also the perfect combination of the idea of the hybrids and the normal dinosaur from Jurassic Park. It’s like they’ve found a perfect compromise where every fan gets something out of it. The chase in the dark with the eyeless Baryonyx was scary as hell, I can’t find words for it and also with what calmness Soyona Santos guides Brooklynn through the darkness, while her friends get chased. Geba was also pretty cute and funny, I feared for her life in the last episodes. It was actually a really good Idea to show how humans, animals and the dinosaurs get along on other continents. Was very interesting to witness and also helped to understand the world better our heroes are now in. The Majungasaurus was also very cool to see finally in the Jurassic Franchise and I am happy that my favorite dinosaur of all time, the Allosaurus has a final hurrah in episode two. This magnificent beast was going through a lot, blindness, serval fights who could’ve easily ended deadly, she was blamed for killing Brooklynn, was hunted and serval times imprisoned. I feel very sorry for my favorite predator of the Jurassic Park franchise, hopefully she can find finally peace in her future as our Camp Family. But I guess we have to wait until season three. I am happy when I see DODGSON again and the biosyn valley.

[jazzmckay]

'I am your Paragon': a Branka analysis

companion piece to my other meta, 'Killing's what swords are for': an Oghren analysis.

upon playing dao for the first time, branka instantly fascinated me with how complex of a character she is. you hear many others speak of her long before you ever get to speak with her yourself. she is the only living paragon in four centuries. you walk into orzammar and immediately can overhear a conversation between a mother and daughter about how the daughter should strive to be more like branka. everyone has an opinion about branka, if you ask--many assume she's long dead, because no one can survive the deep roads for two years, while other consider that she had an entire house with her to protect her and there are still many ruins to take shelter in the abandoned thaigs. regardless of what they assume, both the men who are vying for the crown are searching for her, because her support would win them the election in a near instant. they can't afford to pass up the support of a living paragon. they especially can't afford to let their rival find her first, if she is still alive.

branka is more important than the prospective kings. she's more important even than king endrin's dying wishes--his naming of harrowmont as his heir is hotly debated and cannot be proven. some take it to heart, while others assume it's a lie, or that harrowmont manipulated a dying man into saying something he wouldn't have otherwise. but a king can be pronounced with a crown forged by a paragon, and said paragon does not need to be present for it to be taken as a decree. all that's needed is the warden to claim which king the paragon supported. a paragon is a living ancestor, a figure that the dwarven people look up to like gods.

branka is a paragon, and that is a weighty title to uphold.

in orzammar, castes and titles are everything. they define who a person must be, right from birth. the caste divide and the effect it has on the people is present everywhere you turn in orzammar. dust town shows you how little the casteless are regarded, including the story of a mother shunned by her family for having a baby with a casteless man. dagna's father insists she is a smith, and if she must pursue the field of magic, he can get her into enchanting, but there is nothing for her anywhere else. oghren is of the warrior caste, and his entire life is a fight. when warriors aren't busy defending their home, they're fighting in the provings. a person's caste comes with expectations, and not meeting those expectations comes with great risk.

as a paragon of the smith caste, it is branka's purpose to create something magnificent and long-lasting for the dwarven people. the invention that earned her paragon status is important, but not enough--once she had that title, the expectations were pilled on even more. caridin, a paragon of the smith caste before her, created the anvil of the void and provided the dwarves with the unstoppable golems to protect their empire. who is she to do anything less than he did?

an excerpt from your first conversation with branka:

Branka: [...] I don't care if the Assembly puts a drunken monkey on the throne. Because our protector, our great invention, the thing that once made our armies the envy of the world, is lost to the very darkspawn it should be fighting. The Anvil of the Void. The means by which the ancients forged their army of golems and held off the first archdemon ever to rise. It's here. So close I can taste it. [...] The Anvil lies on the other side of a gauntlet of traps designed by Caridin himself. My people and I have given body and soul to unlocking its secrets. This is what's important. This has lasting meaning. If I succeed, the dwarven people benefit. Kings, politics… all that is transitory. I've given up everything and would sacrifice anything to get the Anvil of the Void.

to branka, the election is nothing compared to her expedition for the anvil. the election is just one king who will probably die in a few decades, and very little will change in the grand scheme of things. orzammar is crumbling under the weight of the darkspawn, and what they need isn't one king over the other, it's the anvil.

Branka: Look around. Is this what our empire should look like? A crumbling tunnel filled with darkspawn spume? The Anvil will let us take back our glory!

and she feels like she must be the one to do it. she's a master of her craft, a paragon, and so she's the one who can give her people what they need, no matter the sacrifice.

the sacrifices she has made are many. 'body and soul', she says. her entire house ventured into the deep roads in search of the anvil, counting on her to make the risk worth it. they traversed abandoned thaigs that few have ever seen themselves--they're crawling with darkspawn, and considered lost. still, they make it through. the anvil isn't where they expected it. they have to push further. further into darkspawn territory. branka leaves a journal behind so that if she fails, someone who follows in her footsteps might be able to pick up where she left off, because this isn't about an individual, this is about the good of orzammar, and she believes the anvil is necessary to their survival. they end up in the dead trenches, a condemned place where only darkspawn and the legion of the dead dwell. and this is still only the beginning. ruck and hespith show us what happens to those who have nothing to sustain themselves with in these abandoned places except darkspawn flesh. hespith's haunting poem whispered within the tunnels tells of what branka did to counter caridin's traps--the members of branka's house became fodder at best, and at worst, one became a broodmother, capable of spawning yet more fodder for the task of defeating caridin's defenses. branka did this to her own people. to her own lover. it is not out of lack of caring--she still calls them 'my people'. it's simply that they had no other choice, in her mind.

during the first stretch of the fight towards the anvil, in a cavern littered with bodies, branka stands above, muttering to herself about what it took to get this far. she has anger for those to tried to oppose her. she tries to justify her actions. a common refrain is that this is their purpose, and they should have faced it bravely, no matter how horrific it was.

to the average player, this is horrific and unforgivable. hespith, branka's lover herself, calls it unforgivable too, and feels guilt for not being able to stop branka. the whole scene is dark, tragic, and unsettling. yet branka's actions are in line with her beliefs and motivations. she is the only living paragon in generations. her people are wasting away. the anvil could stop this. if she can use the anvil, even if it requires the sacrifice of her own soul, it would be worth it to save the rest of the dwarven empire. she speaks of the darkspawn with disgust and hatred, but turned one of her own into a broodmother because in her mind, that's what it would take. that's what had to be done.

branka isn't the only one to feel this way. it's an ideology that many dwarves hold. from a banter between oghren and shale:

Shale: My question is this: had the Anvil of the Void not been destroyed, does it believe the dwarves would have used it? Oghren: Hmm. You mean to create more golems? Oh yes, faster than you could squish a nug. Shale: Even knowing the agony that it caused? They would still inflict it on others? Oghren: No need to inflict it. There'd be plenty ready and willing to sign up, just as you did. There's fewer and fewer of us each year, and the darkspawn never run out. If it meant saving Orzammar? There'd be plenty who'd become a golem, sure.

the dwarves are always dealing with the darkspawn threat, not just during a blight. for them, protecting their city and people is paramount, and sometimes that requires ultimate sacrifices they are willing to pay. for branka specifically, there are extra expectations. there are heights to rise to. it may not seem like she has sacrificed herself, since she still lives while most of her house is dead, but she as an individual has been sacrificed to a cause that has taken everything from her. she is also likely not in entirely sound mind--like the others, there is little for her to eat in the dead trenches other than darkspawn flesh, and, if you side with her, you find out she's been hearing voices. you also find out that she didn't understand the full horror of the anvil. with high coercion, the warden can convince branka that she has gone too far, and she will destroy the anvil herself, even after everything she has poured into this expedition.

Branka: I can hear it! It wants to be used again. It speaks in a hundred different voices. Surely you can hear them. Warden: You mean the voices of all the dead souls trapped inside? Branka: The dead? You think that's who I hear? But… no! It's the Anvil, calling to be used! Oghren: Did you hear what Caridin said? Hundreds of people were bound into golems, trapped inside the Anvil when their bodies were destroyed. That's who you hear! Branka: No! It's not true! You lie! Warden: (Persuade) Think clearly and ask yourself where its power comes from. Branka: But… I will not believe that was Caridin. Caridin would never turn on his own invention. He was a genius. The best of us all! He… must have been wrong. The Anvil was Orzammar's salvation! Warden: Caridin was ready to die to see the Anvil destroyed. Branka: The voices… they've been calling to me for so long, and I didn't even… oh, Hespith tried to tell me, but I wouldn't listen. Oghren: You have to make this right. The Branka I knew would do what is right. Branka: The Anvil must be destroyed. It's an abomination. Go. Return to Orzammar. It's better they never know what became of me.

regardless of what happens at the anvil of the void, branka does not survive. branka, who became a figurehead of cunning and innovation, who became like a god. branka, who was not an individual anymore, but a purpose and a cause. branka, who gave up everything, including her entire house and her lover, for the protection of orzammar. her title told her what she had to be, and failure was not an option, even when her actions became atrocities. when you first meet her, the conversation ends with oghren questioning what has become of the woman he married years ago.

Oghren: What has this place done to you?! I remember marrying a girl you could talk to for one minute and see her brilliance.

and she replies, before turning to walk away,

Branka: I am your Paragon.

[redtsundere-writes]

Tyrant's Favorite | Sukuna Ryomen

Chapter 7 “Potential” is available now!

King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

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Preview ↆ

A cheerful, badly played melody bounced within the dark walls of the castle. For a couple of hours, seemingly random notes sang a song that Sukuna knew perfectly well. One by one, it slowly played. The lovely song lightly drifted into the busy king's office. Usually, he liked to keep the door closed so that no one would disturb him while he worked, but since a pretty musician was playing, he didn't mind listening to the beautiful melody despite the mistakes.  

Sukuna stretched his six limbs over the mahogany desk after a long day of reading and doing tedious paperwork. It was a necessary task to keep abreast of what was going on in the kingdom. Every decision he made only favored him, but being a curse, it gave his own race an advantage over humans. Nimbly, he stacked the documents on their respective shelves to finish for the day. He was the only one who could touch his desk, as his greatest secrets were kept there. 

Sukuna prowled throughout the corridors, his footsteps echoing to the rhythm of the melody playing in the background. It was important to stretch the legs after spending a full day sitting down. The music gradually intensified as he approached the game room. Taking his time to enjoy the song more. He peeked through the open door to watch you carefully. There you were, in front of the giant piano as you stared at the beginner piano book you had borrowed from the library. 

You had always wanted to learn to play the piano. When your mother used to take you to dances, you always loved watching the musicians move their fingers nimbly and elegantly on their shiny instruments. There was something about the pianists that caught your attention, maybe it was the way they swayed their bodies to the music or their intense focus. Whatever it was, it was fascinating how their hands could produce such magic. Unfortunately, you were from a modest family, so you could never get near a piano. Not until you started serving Sukuna. 

The first time you entered the game room, your eyes sparkled at the sight of the magnificent black piano that sat mysteriously in the far corner. You were supposed to clean the library, but admiring the piano for a moment wouldn’t hurt. You approached it cautiously, inches away from the majestic instrument. Your fingers caressed the perimeter of the soundboard, and you smiled to yourself as you carefully admired it. Curiosity led you to inspect its interior, and you touched one of the strings, eliciting a short sound. You quickly pulled your hand away, worried someone might hear you wasting time. Glancing at the door, you waited to see if anyone would peek in to check who had disturbed the icy silence of the castle. Fortunately, no one noticed.

As soon as the king announced you as the winner of this year's hunt, you knew what you would spend on your week off. Every day, after breakfast, you would head to the game room to find the grand piano you had fallen in love with at first sight. You would read the beginner's manual, repeat the exercises to the best of your understanding and then rest your fingers for a while. Your free time was spent reading books that caught your attention, even though you didn’t understand half of the complex vocabulary. It wasn’t that you couldn’t read, but the intricacy of the texts was challenging. When you didn't want to play the piano or read, you would look for Mrs. Inoue to help her with some of her homework. 

Sukuna had noticed your peculiar routine during your week off. Despite having received a wonderful week off from work, you were in the playroom practicing piano, trying to read complex texts or helping the other servants finish their work. Whenever you tried to help Mrs. Inoue, he always stayed in the shadows, watching you argue with your old friend. You would ask him to let you help and Mrs. Inoue would refuse your kind offers because you deserved a break. It didn't matter if it was hanging blankets in the sun, peeling vegetables or dusting vases, you wanted to help your companions, but they would end up running you out of the room. Sukuna was amused to see you return to the playroom, frustrated at your desire to be productive. You were hardworking, and that was both your best and worst quality.

Your fingers descended one by one on the piano as you stuck out your tongue in concentration. Although you often made mistakes, the song you were trying to play didn't sound too bad. Sukuna could follow the rhythm you had established in the room. Your body moving from side to side mesmerized him like a flirtatious snake in a pretty basket. The temptation to come closer until you released the bite was irresistible. You lost in your musical world until you heard the door open.

“King Sukuna,” you whispered in surprise when you saw who it was. You stood up and bowed out of fear and respect. “I'm sorry if I disturbed you, I...". You immediately defended yourself, worried you had disturbed him with the noise. 

“Keep playing," he ordered as he approached you. 

You didn't expect that answer at all, but you obeyed immediately. You returned to the position where you left the song. Sukuna sat next to you on the stool as he watched you play. Your breathing altered and your fingers began to tremble as you felt his imposing presence so close. You were making more mistakes now than before. You had to concentrate to satisfy the king's ear. 

“I'm sorry, I'm not very good,” you apologized between stutters, without taking your eyes off the piano. 

“I can see that," Sukuna said bluntly. It felt like a punch to your ego, but you didn't give up trying to please him. “Not bad for a beginner.” You smiled softly at the half compliment.

Sukuna watched you for a while before deciding to take possession of the piano. While you played the melody, he helped you with the chords. Little by little you merged in the music and the intimacy of the moment. Your fingers moved in tandem to create the same piece. At times, your skins brushed fleetingly against each other, dangerously close to wanting to do something beyond just touching. Your heart fluttered endlessly and there was no way you could stop it. 

The king was a magnificent pianist. With four hands and incredible hand-eye coordination, it was clear he excelled. He could play any piece of music he set his mind to with ease and elegance. You were so amazed by his skills that, without realizing it, you stopped playing just to listen to him. As soon as your hands moved away from the keys, Sukuna stopped.

“What's wrong?” he asked, confused. 

“The song sounds better without me,” you answered, ashamed of not being able to keep up with him. Sukuna took both of your hands with his left arms to subtly place them on the keys again. 

“Once you learn, the song will sound more beautiful than you can imagine,” Sukuna promised, waiting for you to play again. 

There was something in that sentence that stuck with you. You knew he was talking about a simple piano song, but your heart had been left with the impression that he was referring to you. You smiled broadly before playing again. Sukuna couldn't help but be infected by your smile. He faced away to prevent you from seeing the effect you were having on him. This was the perfect opportunity to ask you something that has been plaguing his mind for the past few months. 

“You seem to like spending time with me," he said, glancing at you to see your reaction. 

“I was afraid before, but I have gotten used to being around you,” you answered without taking your eyes off the book held by the lectern. 

You were sure that Sukuna treated you differently from the other servants and liked that. It made you feel unique and special. Although, it could also terrify you and leave you frozen. However, you loved spending time with him. Whether it was tidying his room or washing his hair, being in his presence stimulated you mentally and physically. You couldn't help but want more of what was allowed, the forbidden fruit in the eternal garden. 

“What do you think about spending more time with me?” Sukuna asked you, hiding his nervousness about what was coming. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Marry me.” 

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