#yes king imprison your political enemies!!

[jgffkek]

authsoc sablin that’s all

[visenyaism]

I really like your point that Cersei getting away with killing Robert really explains her mindset from then on. I’ve always struggled with loving her character as much as some people do but that kind of clicks it into place for me.

like yes joffrey deciding to murder ned stark in front of the entirety of kings landing fucked the whole thing but for 72 hours cersei murdered her abuser and got away with it, imprisoned his annoying enabler best friend and planned a pretty good political maneuver to stop his family from retaliating, was a better kingslayer than her brother, ran a more efficient coup than her father PLUS the brother she hated ended up in enemy custody and jon arryn is dead as a freebie. all off of her negligible middle school civics politics education she got as the girl twin. that is enough to get you high off your own supply for a lifetime.

[skyyknights]

biggest thoughts on skyward sword link?

aight. get ready. because I have many thoughts about him.

So, first off, yes, he is a silly sleepy doofus of a sky boy who is extremely soft and adorable and deserves everything. But, while that take is 100% correct and should not be overlooked, he is also a feral rabid gremlin who can and will tear your face off with his bare hands if the need arises (such as if you threaten Zelda).

(I mean. there's your proof right there...)

Now, a lot of people think that Link from Breath of the Wild is the strongest/toughest/etc.

Politely, I disagree.

So then who is the strongest? None other than Sky Link.

Let's start with the basics. He might not have been raised on a farm or in service as a knight for the royal family, but at the same time, he's attended an academy specifically for training knights his entire life. At the start of the game he can lift and throw massive barrels, is stated and shown to be an excellent climber, is a natural at Loftwing flying and at catching Zelda when she throws herself off of Skyloft, and is already excellent with a blade. Later on he can lift and throw small boulders, and push large wooden crates and metal carts.

But like I said, that's just the basics.

Sky Link also fights/defeats the Imprisoned and Ghirahim three times. Both grow stronger with each battle, but he defeats them nonetheless. Ghirahim at first sees him as just a silly little child who can't possibly defeat him; he quickly learns Link is anything but that and in all three of his fights becomes so humiliated that he rages at Link and on two occasions leaves instead of allowing himself to be defeated further. "You think I can't defeat you? You think I can't win? What are you, boy?" he asks in the final fight. He's afraid of Link, because Link is too powerful for him. He's the silly soft sky child, but three times now he has claimed victory over the Demon King's right hand man.

Then there's the Silent Realms, of which Link goes through four. Each one becomes increasingly more difficult and dangerous, and yet he completes all of them. Not only that, but he finds each Sacred Flame required to strengthen Fi and ends up forging the true Master Sword. He also earns and wields the full Triforce, which only a tiny handful of other Links have done. He also survives getting crushed by boulders on numerous occasions and is imprisoned (probably with a concussion) but escapes; battles a massive army of Moblins, Stalfos, and Bokoblins; and with each Silent Realm, his spirit grows, signifying he is not only strong physically, but mentally.

Anything I'm forgetting, besides the fact that Hylia specifically chose him to be her hero and defeat-

Oh yeah.

Demise.

Yup, in case anyone forgot, Sky Link kills Demise, the literal embodiment of evil itself, the original villain from whom Ganondorf comes. Demise is the most powerful enemy in LoZ who not only destroyed Hylia, but nearly all of the Surface as well; according to him, humans cower and quake upon seeing him; none but Link have ever dared to even consider standing up to him. Fighting Link, to Demise, is a casual, lighthearted ordeal where he believes he can take it easy before going off and destroying the world.

But yeah, that doesn't quite happen.

In the end, Link defeats Demise utterly on a battlefield of water and lightning, charging his own blade with it and striking the killing blow. Demise perishes and is absorbed into the Master Sword, directly after threatening that his hate, never perishing, will follow Link and Zelda throughout time.

And there you have it. Sky has just defeated the original incarnation of a cycle of endless hatred.

(while looking like this 90% of the time. he is babey. but stronk and dangerous babey who could kill u with a look).

[michelleleewise]

Long Live The King

Pairing: King jotun Loki x female asgardian reader

Warnings: despair, depression, political drama, enemies to lovers, forced imprisonment, insults, mild slapping, innuendos, I think that's it....let me know If I missed anything!!!

Summary: you try to find a way to escape when a surprising turn of events take place.....

Part Two -- Part Three-

You weren't sure how long you sat in the corner of your cell, praying to every God you knew that Heimdall would hear you and bring you back, but so far the only thing you were met with was the icy wind from the window as night fell. You tucked yourself tighter trying to retain as much heat as possible letting a single tear escape as your new reality sunk in. you were not getting out if this....

You heard the locks on the door click, looking to see the two giants from before enter. "The King requires your presence." The one said pushing your leg with his foot. "I...m good..." you shivered rubbing your arms "it wasn't a request" the one said grabbing the chain pulling you up to your feet. You remained silent as they pulled you along a different hallway "do you think the king will let me have this one?" The one asked nodding at you. "Depends on what his plans are for her, but what he doesn't know.." the other said winking looking at you. You held your head high hoping your face didn't betray you.

You turned the corner, seeing a woman come out of one of the large doors adjusting her robe "Hello boys, is that her?" She asked. You looked at her taking in her slender frame, long dark hair and her not blue skin...who was she? You asked yourself "yes, the king demanded she be brought to him." The one said curtly. The woman walked over to you looking you up and down "hm...she's nothing special, I don't know what vexes him about her." She said standing in front of you "well im not the kings whore so..." You snarked feeling her hand across your face "watch how you speak to me." She growled. Hearing the door open behind her she whipped around

"I thought I sent you away." Loki said stepping out adjusting his leathers tunic. "Yes your highness, but she.." She started when he put his hand up "then go....away" He snapped glaring at her "bring her in." He said pointing at you as the guard pulled you inside "take her to my sitting room, I shall be there shortly." He said starting down the hall. You were pulled inside, remembering the room from the night you were caught, noticing your clothes and daggers sitting on top of his desk you tried to lunge for them only to be yanked back, your back hitting something solid. You looked up seeing the guard smiling down at you.

"Ah ah, be a good girl and behave" He growled pulling you towards the wall attaching the chain to a hook too far up for you to reach. "Good luck pet." The other laughed as they both walked out. You looked to to the desk, the dagger glinting in the light you reached for it, but the chain held you in place. "Dammit!" You yelled trying to reach up and unhook it when the door opened, turning seeing Loki walk in with a tray of different meats and cheeses making your mouth water. How long had it been since you ate?..."Come, sit by the fire." He smiled setting the tray down on a low table as you glared at him. "Oh...that's right." He snarked walking towards you.

He unhooked the chain, giving you no slack as he pulled you to the fire place fastening the chain to another hook in the floor. "Eat, you must be starved." He said walking back to his desk sitting down. You looked at the tray, your stomach growling but you refused to give into him so you curled into a ball scooting closer to the fire. "You are a stubborn one aren't you?" He laughed leaning back in his chair. "I meant what I said, I can make your life very....pleasant here." He smiled. "Being your whore isn't what I consider pleasant" you snarked. He leaned forward, his red eyes piercing into you resting his elbows on his knees "I can give you anything you desire, you would want for nothing." He smiled "I'd rather be impaled." You sneered "Oh, that can be arranged." He smirked.

"I will give you one last opportunity to tell me who sent you, and I suggest you be honest I will be able to tell." He said leaning back. You held your head high looking him in the eye "no one.." you said again hearing him sigh. "When I went through your belongings I found something very interesting." He said turning around picking up the scroll Odin had given you before you left. "Do you recognize this?" He asked holding it up, being met with silence from you "then you can imagine my surprise when I read it." He said making you furrow your eyebrows "oh...I take it you have not read it?" He asked standing up he walked over handing it to you. "Go on, see for yourself." He said sitting back down.

You unrolled it looking down at it feeling a chill run down your spine. "I, Odin Allfather hereby banish Y/n Y/l/n for treason againt the crown of Asgard." You read feeling your eyes burn. "the above accused had been found guilty of conspiring against the monarchy, and the attempted murder of the Allfather." You dropped the paper not wanting to read any further "it seems you are no longer welcome in the realm eternal." He smirked "now, I know you used dark magic to come here, and if the allfather did not send you I want to know how you got here." He said sternly. You remained silent, your brain trying to process what was happening "Answer me!" He yelled slamming his hand on the desk making you jump.

You looked up at him, willing your face to remain neutral "I don't know.. you said flatly watching him pinch the bridge of his nose "You really are an insufferable creature." He growled "and your a monster" You hissed balling your hands into fists "Oh, You have no idea.." he growled standing up he stormed over unhooking the chain pulling you up to his chest, looping his fingers under the collar around your neck he forced you to look at him "you are sure you won't talk?" He asked again as you remained silent "very well.." he hissed dragging you to the chamber door "take her to the throne room and wait for me, I will be there shortly." He said handing the chain to the gaurd slamming the door behind you.

You felt numb as you walked behind the two giants. Banished...is that why Heimdall wouldn't answer....would you ever be able to return home....would you die here....your thoughts spiraled as you came to a stop at the bottom of the dais. "Don't worry pet, the king can be rather....lenient.." one said as they both started laughing. You felt a lump form in your throat looking back seeing others flood into the room. The sea of voices echoed in your mind, watching everyone staring at you when Loki stormed in, cloak billowing behind him, grabbing your hair making you wince "my people, we have a traitor in our midst." He bellowed. You watched as the room fell silent, all eyes on him "not only did this filth try to murder me, she apparently attempted to assassinate the allfather himself." He called out as the voices erupted again.

"Now normally I would be impressed....but the attempt on MY life can not be overlooked so easily." He said. You watched him extend his hand as ice flowed from his fingers. One gaurd grabbed your hands holding them out while Loki bent you over, the ice encasing your wrists and neck holding you in place as you struggled to pull yourself free "She will remain here until I decide what to do with her, I am open to suggestions." He said walking behind you taking his seat on the throne. You pulled and twisted trying to get free, finally huffing in defeat realizing the ice was too thick to break free.

The smell of food wafted through the air, feeling your stomach churn and your mouth water, making you regret not eating what Loki brought to his chambers. You angled your head trying to look up seeing the woman from earlier walk up smiling "I see the filth gets what they deserve" She snarked "leave her be!" You heard Loki's voice bellow from above "but my king, she..." She started "She is my prisoner and you will do good to remember your place." He growled. You watched the woman glare as she stormed off.

You watched as everyone slowly filtered out, leaving you alone in the dark room. Your eyes began to feel heavy but in the awkward position you were in there was no way you could sleep half standing, so you leaned as best as you could against the ice block you were incased in. Sometime later you heard the door open and close, fidgeting when you heard footsteps approaching. "Calm yourself, it is only me" you heard Loki's voice along with a chair being drug across the floor. Setting it in front of you He sat down holding a small tray of food. He reached out, gently tucking your hair behind your ear as your eyes met his "unless you wish to die, you need to eat." He said grabbing a piece of meat holding it to your lips.

You wanted to refuse, to yell and scream and cry. But instead you slowly parted your lips as he gently pressed the meat passed them "good girl." He said making your cheeks heat up. "Now, while I admire your resolve, you need to realize the situation you are in...open." he said holding up a piece of cheese pressing it past your lips "I do not entirely believe you are dense enough to murder the allfather, but I know there is more to this." He said waving his hand in the air. You closed your eyes shifting your weight feeling your back kink. "Are you ready to speak to me?" He asked watching you. You closed your eyes, willing the tears not to fall, opening them seeing him still looking at you you remained silent. "If you will not speak to me what use are you hm?" He asked trying to coax you.

You heard him sigh, picking up another piece of meat holding it up "I do not wish to treat you poorly but you have given me no choice, I cannot show weakness in front of my people." He said pressing the food last your lips "let me go then." You said suddenly getting his attention "that will not happen, you can not try to assassinate a noble a walk away my dear." He said cooly sitting back. "I would rather die then talk to you monster." You snarled hearing him laugh "there are worse things then death, and my patience will only last so long." He smiled, sending a chill down your spine.

You watched him stretch his arms in the air "i'm afraid I am rather tired, sleep well asgardian." He said standing, placing the tray just out of reach on the chair "have fun with your whore." You sneered shifting your weight again. He kneeled down, lifting your chin slightly with his fingers looking into your eyes "Oh, I intend to." He smirked standing up "good night....y/n." He said striding across the room. You heard the door open and close, feeling the weight of your situation bear down on you a tear escaped your eye. You struggled again trying to free yourself but the ice was unyielding "Heimdall! Please! Bring me home I beg you!" You yelled into the empty hall, hearing only silence. You closed your eyes feeling all hope leave you.....

@vbecker10 @lokisgoodgirl @sinsandguilt @high-functioning-lokipath @mochie85 @slytherclaw1227 @jaidenhawke @budugu @xorpsbane @schizonephilim @lokidokieokie @holdmytesseract @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokixryss @asgardianprincess1050 @tallseaweed @aniar4wniak @sekaishell @lokispetblogs @loopsisloops @trojanaurora @lonadane @all-envy-suyu @yelkmelk @stupidthoughtsinwriting @123forgottherest @silverfire475 @bbmommy0902 @goblingirlsarah @commanding-officer @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @mcufan72 @glitterylokislut @tjellisworld @kkdvkyya @cueloki @daggers-and-mischief @sititran @witchyblue @verycollectivecreator @nixymarvelkins @chantsdemarins @shinraski @usagishira @nightshadelm @filthyhiddles @dukes2581 @assemblingavenger @huntress-artemiss @yuu-chan-is-still-a-student12

[obsessedwithlute]

Silver - Chapter Two

Kamali and Silver stopped in front of the queen, not bowing, as she was known to abhor formalities. Kamali attempted to force a smile on her face, to no avail. She simply looked as if she had a toothache.

“Silver” Reye greeted the princess. She turned to Kamali. “Who are…?” “Kamali, Your Majesty. Her bodyguard.” Gods, her hands were drenched in sweat. She was so overtaken by fear her heart was thumping out of her chest and she wanted to begin stabbing every person in that hall right then and now.

“Really?” Reye asked, looking directly at Silver. “Last time I checked, you didn’t want a, as you put it, ‘disgusting old man constantly following you around and putting restrictions on your every move’,”

“And I stand by that,” Silver agreed. “Kamali is, very obviously, not a disgusting old man. And either way, I never asked for a bodyguard.” Kamali's head roared to punch them for speaking about her like she was not there, but she’d have to teach herself to rein in that instinct.

Instead, she let herself sink in the fact that she’d be spending two months in the hospitality of her sworn enemy, and took solace knowing that at the end of those six weeks, she and Johanna and Silver would all be cold in the ground.

Everything she knew begged her to at the very least close her eyes. But she couldn’t. Her pupils remained fixated on Silver and anything around her that could be considered a plausible threat.

The princess and queen chatted for a few moments before they politely drifted away from each other.

“My father told me that all people of Darkflame are immortal,” Silver whispered. “Is that true?”

Kamali blinked, startled. That was knowledge that should have been unknown to even a princess.

“Yes,” she said a little breathlessly.

“How is that possible?” Silver asked. “Are you all children of gods?” All royals were; that was what gifted them their immortality. Queens and kings were required to marry gods so their kingdoms could have legitimate immortal rulers.

Or at least semi-immortal.

Gods weren’t really immortal. They could die, it was just insanely difficult to slay them. And royalty were weaker. They had fast, strong healing and queens and kings of old had been rumored to wield magik, though all that was simply implausible myth now.

“No,” Kamali corrected. “When the Earth God died, his blood seeped into the soil, and set off a ripple effect causing the people of Darkflame to all eventually become immortal as the royal godchildren of all other kingdoms.” “Is that why your royals are immortal? Or do they still bear the blood of deities?” Silver inquired.

“Why do you care?” Kamali snapped, completely forgetting her proprietary.

“Apologies, my lady. I did not mean to offend,” the princess said, almost sincerely.

“You shan’t apologize,” Kamali said. “You are of a rank higher than mine.”

They walked in silence across the ballroom floor, the only sound the clacking of Silver’s heels- the same color as her namesake.

A string quartet played by the buffet tables in the hall. The low, majestic sounds of the violoncello took over the white noise in Kamali’s head. Music had always done that to her. The noise made her want to open her mouth, and let those words trapped inside her fly out in a sophisticated string of verses, choruses and bridges. Hymns, folk songs, lullabies. Anything so long as she could sing it and grant it life.

Back when she was Amirah, when life was free and open to her- as open as it could be for a girl from Darkflame- she could have. She could sing until her throat was dry and hoarse, sing until her mouth could no longer make a sound, sing until her tongue was withered as the desert.

But now, as Kamali, she could never sing again in public, lest Her Most Majestic Majesty of Hoperain recognize her unique tone, or the artistic expression be deemed too improper for the bodyguard to Princess Silver of Florynlla.

She thought back to those fifty-nine years imprisoned in the fortress of the Heron. How she had taught the other prisoners from Darkflame the importance of the arts. The melancholy, heartbreaking songs to sing at a funeral and the hopeful, freeing tunes to hum at a wedding. The way that paint, when introduced to a canvas, could transform the world a little bit. Though she herself had never quite understood the wonder of creating physical, preserved art, she marveled at it often and considered how kinder people would be if they saw and heard art the way she did.

Lost in thought, the bodyguard didn’t feel the hours at the banquet pass by. Silver did not speak to her for the remainder of the time at the reception. Kamali did not attempt to initiate, and did not wish to. The leather-clad woman spent the whole banquet thinking of two months in Reye’s palace. And at the end of those months, how good it would feel when her dagger slid up into Reye’s heart. The horror she hoped to see on Reye’s face when she realized that Amirah was more than a ghost- that she had been closer than the queen would have ever anticipated.

Kamali was a liar, a criminal and a dirty cheat, yes.

Yet Reye was all those things as well, times thirty.

It took one to know one.

Eventually, people began drifting out of the ballroom, chattering amongst themselves as they paraded outside to their golden carriages.

Silver and Kamali were the last to leave, directly after Queen Reye.

They paused at the staircase.

“Good evening,” Silver said stiffly, and then promptly turned and left down a corridor.

Kamali closed her eyes- finally- and leaned back against the stair rail, shuddering.

Two months. No longer than that. She whirled on her heel and headed up the staircase, slightly glad when she reached her disgustingly ornate room. She fumbled for her key in the pocket on her cloak and slammed it into the lock. She grabbed the doorknob and threw it open, wanting to collapse as soon as she entered the room and locked the door firmly behind her. Instead, she relieved herself of the damn leather torture devices and slipped into a hot bath, attempting to relax her tense muscles from standing up straight and refraining from hitting anyone for hours.

Knowing herself, Kamali didn’t even attempt to sleep. Instead, she found the thick file she’d ignored earlier and scoured it, making notes on anything that seemed important, like Johanna arriving in Hoperain three weeks after Silver and Kamali, or the grand ball that would take place the night after that. Most of the file, though, was utterly unnecessary information that only a complete moron wouldn’t already know, like court etiquette. Who did they think she was? Kamali had made sure to give herself a refresher on royal household politics before signing up to be a princess’s bodyguard.

There was little to no information given to her about Queen Reye- unsurprising, since though the queen made public appearances, she was secretive about her personal life and had given no indication of her plans in political or private matters.Eventually, the fatigue Kamali felt from the day caught up to her and she collapsed, exhausted, into the overly fluffy sheets of her elegant bed.

Kamali was sitting across from Queen Reye of Hoperain in Her Most Esteemed Majesty’s private royal carriage. Again. Of course, this time as the bodyguard of the heir to a visiting fellow monarchy, and not an eight-year-old girl and the then-future queen’s closest friend.

Kamali was not to do anything that could distract her from Silver, so no matter how much she wished to review her files or even read one of the epics Reye had championed every time she got the chance as a child, she spent the carriage ride observing the queen.

Silver was going to be easy to kill- they would share chambers at the palace of Hoperain. She’d just plant evidence to show that an assassin had tragically made it inside during Kamali’s off-duty hours. But Queen Reye… Kamali needed to learn more about what she was like now. Without knowing everything possible about the sovereign, there was no way to tell what her weaknesses were.

The only issue was that Her Most Esteemed Majesty had spent the entire carriage ride so far reading budget notes. All Kamali had gained was the knowledge that she had become immensely boring- she had giggled multiple times while reading the report- and that she still loved to grab strands of her hair and push them behind her ear, something that had always annoyed Kamali to no end.

Kamali felt something wet and cold prick her eye. She flicked it away.

Kamali had begun to count how many times Reye had let out a little laugh at some note one of her Slightly Less Esteemed nobles had left on the budget report.

Out of everyone in the universe to swear to kill!

The current tally was at thirty-nine.

Suddenly, the horses let out a whinny and the carriage came to a halt. Silver and Reye jolted.

Reye held up a finger and stepped out to speak to the coachman.

Silver’s eyes were wide with fear. Kamali rolled hers. “It’s probably fine,” the bodyguard said. “The horses probably got spooked by a bear, that’s all. Nothing to worry about.” “You file a bear under nothing to worry about?” the princess demanded.

“It’s not going to eat us. If someone didn’t kill it already, it’s long gone by now,” Kamali explained as if she was speaking to a toddler.

“What if it comes back?”

“Then I stab it. This possibly nonexistent bear is not going to hurt you, Silver! It’s nothing to be afraid of! You need to get outside more; bears are very common creatures!” Kamali cut off her rant before it could expand further and give herself away before they were halfway to Hoperain.

Reye slipped back inside the carriage. “Bad news,” she announced. Silver paled. “One of the horses got heat stroke and passed out. It should be fine, but it needs to cool off. The horses nearly tripped over each other, so they let out a noise of alarm. We’ll have to wait a few hours out here; we don’t want the horse to be unfit to travel the rest of the way to Hoperain.”

Kamali turned to Silver. “See? Nothing to worry about.” Silver shook her head and looked at Reye. “How many hours?” “Enough that it’ll be dark by the time we get to Hoperain,” Reye admitted.

“Dark!” the princess exclaimed. “We left at seven to avoid that! We took your fastest horses!” “It’s just nighttime,” Kamali muttered. “Why are you so perturbed?” “No one is allowed within two miles of Hoperain Castle at night! By my own laws, not even I am to be let in before daybreak!” Reye explained. “Was there no information in that file?” “Honestly? I definitely don’t remember that!” Kamali defended. “Maybe reread the synopsis on your own capital if you care so much! Forgive me if you’re so very paranoid that you won’t allow yourself to enter your own castle during the dark hours!” “Would you prefer night shifters disguise themselves as me and break in?” the queen demanded.

“What have I signed up for? You have a night shifter infestation?” Night shifters were creatures that had forgotten their true form. During the day, they appeared to you as your greatest fear, but at night, they could become an exact replica of whoever they wanted. While Reye’s parents reigned, programs were in place to hunt them down and terminate them.

“I… may have felt bad for them and shut down the programs,” Reye said sheepishly.

“What is wrong with you? They’re pure evil! They don’t have a conscience!” Kamali screamed. “And you felt bad for them!” “...I need some fresh air,” Silver squeaked out. Both the queen and bodyguard had forgotten she was there. “Kamali, maybe you should just… stay here and work out whatever this is?” She slinked out of the carriage.

Kamali and Reye stared at each other. Kamali’s heart was racing so fast she thought it would jump straight out of her chest. Her cheeks flushed red and her nails dug into her thighs. Something in her gut twinged.

Kamali shook her head lightly. “Just- go back to reading your damn budget report and leave me alone.”

“It’s not a budget report,” Reye said softly.

“Excuse me?” “It’s a romance novel,” Reye admitted. “Disguised as a budget report so no one can accuse me of being improper.”

“Why are you bothering to tell me this?” Kamali asked in just as light a tone. There was a string in her stomach and someone was pulling on it hard.

“So you’ll stop staring at me and wondering why I’m laughing,” Reye said.

“I’m not staring at you because of that,” Kamali muttered.

“So why are you?” Reye demanded, her voice still quiet but a little harsher, like the queen she was. The queen she didn’t deserve to be.

“Because you’re interesting,” Kamali blurted, then caught herself. “I mean, it’s between you, the wall and Silver, who I’m going to be watching for the rest of my life.” A lie, but Reye didn’t know that. “You’re the novelty. If only I were you and could read a romance novel in lieu of sitting upright and being attentive and trying not to fall asleep.”

Reye smiled a little. “All right. So, should we go back to fighting?”

“Would you like to?” Kamali asked.

“Not really. I think you’re alright when you’re not screaming your ass off,” Reye said.

“And what do you think when I am ‘screaming my ass off’, as you so properly put it?” Kamali replied, grinning.

“I think you’re just plain attractive,” Reye admitted.

“What?” the bodyguard demanded.

Reye just smirked. “So. Truce?” Kamali comforted herself in the fact that she’d be stabbing this woman within two months. “Truce.”

“Are we going to have to sleep in the carriage?” Silver asked. Two hours ago, the carriage had started moving again and they’d finally been on their way to Hoperain. But it was alright almost sunset by the time the capital, Averfell, was even a tiny speck in the distance.

“Hopefully not,” Reye said. “But most innkeepers will turn us away rather than run the risk of us being night shifters.” Again with the night shifters! Restart the programs! Kamali wanted to tell Reye. But their truce had lasted for all of five hours, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to be the one to break it first.

“The carriage is fine; it’s just one night anyways,” Kamali shrugged.

“Unless you have another option,” Silver added. Royals! They were all so obsessed with personal comforts!

“Unfortunately,” Reye said, “the only other choice would be Starlight Avenue.”

What was Starlight Avenue? So much had changed in fifty-nine years!

“Oh! Well, I was actually hoping that at some point we could visit there!” Silver exclaimed, a light of excitement ashine in her eyes.

“You wish to go someplace so dangerous?!” Reye demanded, shocked.

“The markets are only for liars to fear,” Silver said, wrinkling her nose. “I’ve seen the gates; I’ve seen the sign! ‘Lies Have No Place Here’! I, for one, am no liar, and I hope you don’t consider yourself to be one!”

Reye closed her eyes tight. “Alright. Fine. But we should remain in the day sector, to avoid night shifters.”

Again with the night shifters…. Is it really that bad? 

“Day sector?” Silver asked.

Ah, so she doesn’t know everything about this place! Maybe I’ll know something about what this is! Other than that it sounds like imminent doom to me!

“There are two sectors in Starlight Avenue,” Reye explained. “One is trapped in eternal day; the other in eternal night. And the whole place is swarming with night shifters. Even the day sector- some like to show people their greatest fear. They don’t care about shifting.”

“Remind me again why we’re opting for the night shifter breeding ground,” Kamali mumbled, just under loud enough for Reye and Silver to hear.

The horses clipped on, and the three women soon dissolved back into silence.

Hours later, Kamali stood in front of two great iron gates blocking off a street that seemed to be made entirely of darkness. A message was etched into the arch of the gates. Just as Silver had said: LIES HAVE NO PLACE HERE.

Kamali shuddered.

“The tides have turned,” Silver mused. “Now you’re concerned about something you shouldn’t be. Unless you’re lying entirely about your whole identity or something, there is no reason for you to fear this place.”

Kamali twisted her face into something resembling a smile and tried not to wonder if this meant Silver was smarter or dumber than she had initially thought.

“Are the gates locked or…?” Kamali asked.

“No, no,” Reye said. “You just have to push. Want to do the honors?” she asked, gesturing to Kamali.

Lies have no place here.

And Kamali was one big lie.

She didn’t even know anything about what this place was and yet every internal danger radar she possessed was waving red flags in front of her face.

She stepped on shaky feet forward and pressed her palm against the gate, her whole head begging, Please don’t kill me just yet.

The iron gates creaked and opened. Silver ran inside, while Reye and Kamali moved slower.

As soon as the gates slammed behind them, the sky transformed into a beautiful midday scene. The sun’s glare looked down upon them. If Kamali didn’t know better, she’d think it was truly daytime.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Silver marveled.

“I’ve been here once before, and almost got killed by a night shifter. Forgive me if I don’t love it,” Reye reflected.

For some reason Kamali wondered, A night shifter in the day or night sector? “Well. Let us go, then,” Kamali said decisively.

“Shall we check out the shops?” Silver suggested excitedly.

“Do that if you wish. I should have been off duty an hour ago,” Kamali muttered.

“Perhaps you’d like to check out the magik mirrors,” Reye suggested, smiling at Kamali. “I can show you to them.” “Magik isn’t real,” Kamali said flatly.

“Isn’t it?” Silver murmured, her voice light and airy. Kamali pictured her blood splattered everywhere.

“I’ll check out the mirrors, if only to escape from the desperate bore of your company,” Kamali shot at the princess.

“Good. Enjoy the shops, Your Highness,” Reye said, linking arms with Kamali and half-dragging her away.

The fake glare of the sun still somehow burned Kamali’s eyes as Reye guided her to the mirror exhibit.

Reye stopped walking when they reached what seemed to be a town square. There were people swarming everywhere, gossiping about the latest this or newest that, peddlers and merchants stopping rich old ladies in the street and offering to sell their beads and vases, pickpockets sneaking jewelry from the purses of pedestrians- everyone and everything you’d expect to find in a regular city hub.

Except for a long brick wall with every mirror you could ever expect to find hanging on it- but the mirrors weren’t the interesting part. It was what was inside of them.

These were mirrors that Kamali had heard about from fairy tales. They had faces trapped inside them, though in the stories they were honest and intelligent, and these were… not.

Kamali turned to Reye, fear ablaze in her eyes. “What are they?”

“Banshees.” Well, that calm voice was meant to be a deliberate annoyance, wasn’t it? 

“Sorcery,” Kamali said, completely disbelieving.

“It’s not sorcery! It’s-”

“If you say magik, I swear to all the gods, I will gut you right here and now!” Kamali shrieked.

If she was being honest, she sounded like a banshee herself.

“Are they actually demonic off-key sopranos?” Kamali asked.

“I’m going to choose to ignore what you just described them as and say, yes, they are banshees, who were imprisoned inside these millenia ago. And no, they’re not to escape and start mauling you to shreds, so don’t even ask,” Reye said. “And they’re actually quite sweet, and the poor things don’t deserve to be locked away. In fact, I do plan to speak to some of these people, and see if a mirror can be purchased. I am certain my alchemists can look into freeing a banshee.”

“I don’t particularly think I’ll enjoy following you around as you do that. I shall remain here and observe these mirrors for a while longer,” Kamali decided.

“If it please you.” Reye left her there with the wall and its mirrors. In truth, Kamali did not pay the banshees a scrap of attention and instead closed her eyes for the first time that day. She let herself breathe and be human. She let her tense muscles relax just the slightest bit.

A tiny, tiny tear slipped out of the tired corner of her left eye. It trickled down her face, cooling her skin a little. It felt like the first introduction of ice to a desert.

She despised it.

Kamali reopened her eyes and looked around the square. A little girl, maybe five or six years old, was standing at her side. She had a puffy rat’s nest of blonde hair and came up to Kamali’s hips. The little girl reached up to tug on Kamali’s hand. Her skin was colder than the tear, colder than the tundra, colder than a frozen Hell.

Kamali shook it away and looked down at the girl. She gasped at the sight of her face.

It was Kamali.

No, it was Amirah. That was what Kamali had looked like almost seventy-five years ago.

That was her.

Amirah’s body began to flicker in and out, and she started sinking into the ground. Kamali fell to her knees, trying to reach her, to touch her, to save her.

It was all to no avail. She disappeared as soon as she’d come.

When Kamali got up, shaking, Amirah was there again, this time older. Thirteen, maybe. A long cut underneath her eye, bruises up and down her arm.

She wasn’t quite thirteen, then. She remembered this. It was one of the nastier beatings the nobl

es had given her.

Amirah was bleeding, and the blood began to cover her body, swallowing her whole, eating her alive.

Amirah was drowning in her own blood.

Kamali screamed, but somehow, somehow, no one heard her. Or maybe they did. Why would they care? Amirah melted to the cobblestone streets in a puddle of sticky red.

Kamali hoped to the heavens she wouldn’t reappear.

Not five seconds later, she was faced with another Amirah. This one much older- almost nineteen. Cloaked in black, repeating the same two words over and over, in the exact voice she remembered saying them.

“I’m sorry.” The truth hit Kamali’s mind suddenly.

Night shifter.

What was it Reye had said? Some like to show people their greatest fear. They don’t care about shifting.

Kamali turned on her heel and ran.

She didn’t know if Amirah- the night shifter; it wasn’t Amirah; she was Amirah, or at least used to be- was chasing her, and didn’t particularly care. She just needed to get away from it.

She didn’t even notice when the sky turned suddenly black, and a crescent moon’s light began to shine down on her. She just ran and ran until her legs gave out and she saw a line of shops to her left. She ran directly to the one in front of her, and begged every god the door would be unlocked.

She tugged on the doorknob and, thankfully, it opened. She rushed inside, and collapsed to the ground, even the warm yellow lamp radiating warmth that was the sole source of light in the store, burning her eyes.

She curled into a ball on the rough wooden floor, and tried to take some deep breaths.

“What happened?”

She looked up. A woman with curly sand-colored hair and emerald eyes stood over her, the burning sword tattoo on her throat signifying her as from Darkflame.

The tattoo of war heroes.

“Speak, girl!” she commanded. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Nothing,” Kamali murmured, then groaned. She rolled over and vomited all over the woman’s floorboards.

“I just saw you running and screaming down the streets, so you’re clearly not ill. Mop’s over there.” The woman pointed to a mop and bucket in the back corner of the one-room store, which was filled with shelves containing bottles filled with odd-colored liquids, old leather-bound books and rusty relics, among many strange things.

Kamali blinked.

“Clean it up,” the shop owner commanded.

Kamali covered her eyes and yawned.

“Who even are you?” the woman demanded. “And what are you doing, dirtying my store?” “K…Kamali, bodyguard of Princess Silver. Visiting guest of Queen-” “Throwing around the names of royals isn’t going to help you. So what’s Kamali, bodyguard of Princess Silver, visiting guest of Queen Reye, doing in the Night Sector?” the shopkeeper barked.

“I’m in the night sector?” Kamali groggily asked.’

“Well, it’s been dark out for a decade, so I’d assume so. Get up, Kamali, bodyguard of Princess Silver. Such an esteemed lady as you has no business lying on the ground of such a lowly shopkeeper as I.” The woman spoke with clear sarcasm.

Kamali made a noise similar to that of a gate in desperate need of oil.

The shopkeeper kicked her.

Kamali rolled onto her back and made a half-assed attempt at jabbing the woman’s ribcage with her own foot but it turned out to be more of a flail.

This is pathetic, she hissed at herself. You’re stronger than this.

The other side of her brain fought back. No. You’re not. You were weak enough to be betrayed by a dumb feeling in your chest. 

Well, she wouldn’t be this time.

And she wouldn’t be stabbing anyone lying on the floor of a shop in the Night Sector.

Kamali tentatively pushed herself up onto two wobbly legs and took a few shaky steps towards the mop.

She gripped its handle and started cleaning up the vomit. The shopkeeper, seated on a moldy wooden stool, kept her glowing green eyes fixated on Kamali until she was finished. Once the floor was sparkling shiny, the woman spoke.

“I’m Barbara,” she said flatly. “I don’t know any fancy royals except for the long-dead ones, but I beg that you deign to acknowledge me regardless.”

Kamali couldn’t help but laugh, for this woman seemed to be the one people would beg to be acknowledged by.

Barbara gestured to a stool identical to hers. “Sit.” Kamali obeyed. “Tell me how such an esteemed lady as you got here,” she ordered. 

“I was a bit… spooked by a night shifter,” Kamali   murmured. “I ran away, and didn’t exactly notice when I entered the night sector.”

“Ah, another court idiot,” Barbara commented.

“Don’t call me that,” Kamali snapped.

“What?”

  “I’m not a court idiot! I’m not even a noble! I simply applied to become the bodyguard of a princess because I needed a job.” Even though that’s nowhere near the whole truth. “The title is just attached.”

“What did the night shifter appear as?” Barbara asked, unfazed by Kamali’s protests.

“Doesn’t matter,” she snapped.

“Made you crumple to the floor of my shop and cry like  the devil was after you. Seems like it matters,” the shopkeeper insisted.

Kamali was silent.

“Look, just tell me: Was it someone or something?” “Someone,” Kamali admitted.

“Interesting,” Barbara commented. “But good. Now the weight on your shoulders is lighter, simply from sharing that bit of information. Do you feel it?” “I don’t feel anything,” Kamali muttered.

“We’ll work on it,” the woman decided. “Now. You will buy something.” “I don’t have any money, my lady. I apologize.” The shopkeeper’s eyebrows furrowed.

Shit. She’d slipped. Kamali had done so damn well not affording Barbara the deference she deserved as a warrior of Darkflame.

Well, she’d just have to act like it never happened and barrel past it.

“I don’t deal in common coins,” the shopkeeper said. And before Kamali could ask, she said, “I deal in lies.” “In lies…?” Liars have no place here.

“Over there-” Barbara gestured to the shelves in the front of the shop- “I’ll only need you to tell me a few small lies you’ve told in your lifetime, and the truth to go with them.”

Kamali cautiously approached the shelf. There were many treasures collecting dust on the wooden planks- golden goblets, bronze bracelets, emerald vases. She was drawn to a small, clear, shimmering ring tucked behind a few wine bottles. She pointed to it. “What’s that?”

“That ring changes color depending on your emotions. It comes with a piece of paper decoding the shades. That will be two small lies paired with their truths, if you please. Don’t bother telling me you don’t want to buy it. You wouldn’t have asked if you didn’t. And they must be lies you’ve told before. Oh, and you must tell me the person you lied to.” Barbara waited, smiling.

“I told you nothing happened to me,” Kamali said, her voice grinning for her. “Right after I entered your store. And the truth is many things have happened to me.”

Barbara let out a little laugh. “Nice job,” she purred. “Not giving me what I want. I respect that. But you still have only paid half the price.”

“Why do you deal in lies?” Kamali asked. “They can’t be of value to you.”

“Oh, but they are. Now, if you ask another question, I will throw you out of this shop. I do not answer to you,” Barbara snapped.

Kamali rubbed her temples, trying to think of another small lie she’d told. “When I was nine,” she said, “I told my mother I had to ask my teacher a question and I would be late coming home. Instead, I snuck over to my sick friend’s house and brought her a cinnamon roll.”

“Hm,” the shopkeeper remarked. “Why did you have to lie?” Kamali mimicked her and said, “I don’t answer to you.”

“Yet we all answer to the truth. You’d do well not to forget that,” Barbara told her. “Well, the ring’s yours.”

The shopkeeper plucked it off the shelf along with a slip of paper and handed it to Kamali. She slid it onto her left index finger and it turned a shade of bright red.

Kamali looked down at the sheet. Red: Fear. 

Her heart pounded. Shit. Her emotions were on display for this woman to see- why was she so rash?

Everything told her to take the ring off, but even if Barbara could see her emotions- this could help Kamali. She could know when she was feeling something that made her vulnerable. And she would, at the very least, know more about herself than other people did.

Something else caught Kamali’s eye. In the windowsill sat a candle- not lit, not at all burnt. A perfect, pristine candle- as if it was frozen in time.

Pointing to it, she asked, “And how much does that cost?”

“Oh, that,” Barbara said, smirking, “will cost the greatest lie you have ever told. It protects a person of your choice against all harm until it burns out.”

“No, no,” Kamali gasped, shaking her head violently. “Thank you for the ring. I will be going now.” She stepped towards the door.

“When you wish to come back and purchase the candle, I will hold it for you,” the shopkeeper told her.

“Do not,” Kamali insisted. “I have no wish to buy it.”

“Well, even if you don’t,” Barbara countered, “sometimes we crave to tell someone the truth, even if we don’t know it ourselves. The candle will be kept out of sight until you return.” “Stop saying when and until,” Kamali protested. “I will not be returning to purchase the candle.” “Oh, you will,” Barbara persisted. “You simply don’t know it yet.”

“Kamali? Kamali??” That was Reye’s voice. She must have come back to the wall of mirrors only to find Kamali gone. Luckily, she’d made it back to the day sector before there was a chance of anyone finding out where she’d been.

“No need to freak out,” Kamali said, approaching the queen’s back. “I’m right here.” Reye whirled around and for a second reached out her arms like she was going to hug Kamali. But then she pushed them back to her sides, and seemed to exhale. A good thing. She shouldn’t hug you, Kamali reminded herself. 

“Where were you?” Reye demanded. “I thought you were lost or dead or worse!” Kamali decided not to ask what constituted worse.

“I was just at a shop,” she assured the queen, smiling. She held up the hand bearing her ring. It had turned deep blue- perhaps the color of absolute disgust and hatred.

“Nice,” Reye remarked. “I’m glad you… enjoyed yourself, then.” The queen twisted her face into a stupidly wide grin.

“Where is Silver?” Kamali asked.

“Acquiring lodgings. There are still many hours left of nightfall and we need sleep. She is at an inn a few blocks away. Come on.” Reye set off and gestured for Kamali to follow her. 

The bodyguard squared her shoulders and walked after her nemesis.

Silver was waiting at a cottage painted white with a dark blue door. There was a hole in the roof and a thriving garden in front.

Kamali and Reye stopped in front of her and instantly noticed she was blushing.

The princess looked them each in the eye and then said, “Well. Good news or bad news first?”

“Bad, always the bad,” Kamali decided before Reye could say anything.

“She only has two free rooms. And I may have already claimed one for myself,” Silver admitted.

“What? I’m your bodyguard. Don't you think we should be the ones sharing a room?” Kamali demanded.

“I’ve known you for all of one day; there’s no chance in hell that we are sharing a room! And considering I’m the one who found this place, isn’t it fair that the rooming is my decision?” Silver demanded.

“That’s fine,” Reye scoffed. “As long as-” “And it’s only one bed each,” Silver blurted.

“Not as fine,” Kamali muttered. “And what the hell is the good news?” Maybe there’s a mat I can sleep on? Oh, gods!

“We don’t have to sleep on the streets,” the princess said, shrugging. “And it’s only for one night. Now come inside. It is freezing out here, and there are shades to ward off the light so we can calm down a bit.”

Reye turned to Kamali. “We can make this work. It’ll be fine.”

Kamali pinched her nose so tight it hurt.

The ring was black with swirls of red now. She hid her hand in her cloak so Reye wouldn’t see it had changed color. The logical side of her brain said to just take the jewelry off, but… Somehow she couldn’t. She liked having the power to know, once she’d memorized what the colors meant.

Silver handed Kamali a rusty key with 6 engraved on it. She and Reye checked a few corridors until they found their assigned room.

The bodyguard slid her key into the lock, and-

Oh gods. The room was disgusting. It was practically a glorified closet, there was mold and spiderwebs creeping across the walls, and the bed was tiny. If you put two babies on opposite ends of it, they’d be a hair’s length away from one another!

The luggage that Kamali and Reye had brought was shoved in the corner, presumably by the footman before he went home to his family, who, according to the queen of Hoperain, lived in the day sector.

“It should be around midnight outside,” the queen said. “We’ll have to leave early. We should get some sleep.” She walked over to the thick blinds on the windows and shut them tightly. Both the queen and bodyguard walked over to the bed and pulled themselves under the thin covers.

About three minutes later, Reye was fast asleep. With her arms tightly wrapped around Kamali. What the actual fuck.

How Reye had managed to silently and unsuspiciously do that, Kamali had no idea. She didn’t even think it was on purpose, and that was the worst part. That was it; she had tried; she was going to sleep on the floor now. Kamali tried to tug herself out of the queen’s embrace, but she feared to either wake Reye or dislocate her own shoulder.

It had been cold as ice just a few minutes ago, but now Kamali was sweating. Kamali looked down at her ring, which had been pulsing with light ever since Reye had closed the shades. It was mostly red, with a few dabs of purple mixed in. She’d have to check what that meant tomorrow, but right now, Kamali wanted to sleep. And she wanted to escape the arms of her sworn enemy. And also, a little tiny part of her wanted to stay right where she was.

Alas, she had a scrap of intelligence left in her, and set about weaving herself out of Reye’s grasp. Her heart was jumping, and she didn’t like it one bit.

Kamali had managed to half-dangle herself over the bed when Reye opened her eyes.

“What the hell…?” the queen murmured groggily. “Why are you doing that?”

“Exercise,” Kamali lied. “Night exercise. It’s good for the body, the soul, the, um, ligaments! I just had to finish it up. Sorry for disturbing you.”

“Mm,” Reye murmured, turning over, accidentally dropping Kamali onto the floor. “G’night.”

Kamali nodded, knowing the queen couldn’t see her, and not caring one bit.

She didn’t get back into bed, instead electing to curl into the fetal position on the scratchy rug and trying to force herself asleep.

The nightmares came. They always did.

A crack of a whip. Blood everywhere.

The blood of her people, everywhere, her clothing, the ground, spurting from her mouth.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry.

I’m- Her eyes blinked open. Kamali forced the door open, forgetting about Reye asleep behind her. She ran outside to the bright sun and perfect garden, fell to her knees, and wept.

[lightrises]

"Only in allowing her to pass..." — Hornet, The Radiance, and the means by which Hallownest turned its victims against each other

A quick note: I read Hollow Knight as an anti-colonialist text. As such I'll be touching on topics related to colonialism as it's depicted in the world of the game, and said analysis will reflect both a sympathetic take on The Radiance and a critique of The Pale King that won't pull its punches. If this sounds up your alley, hello and thank you for the read! Let us be sad about these bugs together.

———

So!! A while back I realized something about pre-canon that felt rather... "curious" is one way to put it, I think. To wit: for all the effort and scheming and determination The Pale King poured into trying to get rid of The Radiance, neither of his plans involved directly killing her.

Was that his long game? Well, sure, that seems clear enough. His tack changed from luring the moths away from their god and creator to a more literal form of incarceration once the infection became a factor, but at its core the end goal never really changed—The Pale King very sincerely wished to destroy Radiance via obsolescence. The Seer lends us foreshadowing to confirm as much:

[Image descriptions: Two screenshots from Hollow Knight, showing the Seer and Ghost in the Seer's alcove at the Resting Grounds. Across both screenshots, the Seer tells Ghost the following: "None of us can live forever, and so we ask those who survive to remember us. Hold something in your mind and it lives on with you, but forget it and you seal it away forever. That is the only death that matters." End description.]

(Which, by the way and given the context, talk about an extremely unsubtle allusion to cultural genocide huh!!! Whew.)

In any case, we're left with a whole bunch of machinations which build up to... well, two very roundabout attempts at committing deicide. That's kind of weird, all things considered! Why not just do the deed in one fell swoop and get it over with?

This could be for any number of reasons. Maybe the king was devoid of the means to instantly kill another higher being. Maybe his personal sense of scruples stopped him short of signing off on MURDER murder (although, y'know, the aforementioned genocide + eternal imprisonment = still cool and copasectic apparently!). Maybe the long drawn-out cruelty was the point. Maybe the idea of playing fuckign 4D chess with the circumstances was too delicious for him to pass up—that man did love to tinker and stick his claws where they sure as hell didn't belong—or maybe it was a little bit of All The Things. Who knows!!

But interrogating The Pale King's methodology on this count isn't what I'm here for, at least not really. The main reason I raise this question at all is that in her own way, Hornet did too.

"I'd urge you to take that harder path... "

See, going by The Pale King's actions and what The White Lady explicitly says, they both foresaw two outcomes wrt the infection: it can be allowed to spread, or it can be contained. At Teacher's Archives, Quirrel acknowledges the fact that Ghost is expected to do... something about this, but he doesn't elaborate on what HE thinks that's supposed to be apart from the obvious "Gotta bust into Black Egg Temple first". Hornet is the one person who presents to us—to Ghost—what's framed as a third option: confront and destroy the infection at its source.

And she doesn't bring it up like it's just another tactic for Ghost to consider, prim and indifferent to what they would do. She nudges them towards it, actively, up to the point where she throws herself into the fray against Hollow at a juncture that's uniquely dangerous to her and her alone just to make that option feasible.

Even when she's couching it in disclaimers that this is still Ghost's decision to make (and let's be fair, she's extremely not wrong about that lol), no one can pretend Hornet is unbiased. It's obvious in that buttoned-down Hornet kind of way that she is way the hell done with the increasingly tenuous stalemate that's kept Hallownest's desiccated corpse from collapsing in on itself. Personally it's hard for me not to read some Toriel Undertale-esque "My father was too entrenched in his own foolishness to pursue any course of action that would have DEFINITIVELY ended this" shade into her stance here, regardless of whether that's strictly true in canon.

And that bit—Hornet's hopes for an end to Hallownest's stasis, moreover her grim calculation of what needs to be done to get there—that's the bit I find super interesting but likewise tragic and depressing as shit, on multiple levels. In no small part because a) canon itself gestures towards Hornet feeling conflicted about the very plan she's pushing, and moreover b) she has at least two (2) damn good reasons to feel that way.

So, what do I mean by that? Let's look here first:

[Image description: A screenshot from Hollow Knight, of Hornet and Ghost inside the Temple of the Black Egg, standing in front of the unsealed egg itself. Hornet has been struck by the Dream Nail and her dialogue is displayed as follows: "... Could it achieve that impossible thing? Should it?" End description.]

As the curtain is about to drop on things one way or another, Hornet thinks,

... Could it achieve that impossible thing? Should it?

Now, looking at that last bit it's easy to go "Oh no, Hornet's worried that Ghost won't survive killing The Radiance!" And I do think that's part of it: Hornet is, categorically, not her father. By endgame it's clear she's not content to view her Void-borne siblings as tools to be used then disposed of. She's also well aware that as a healthy autonomous Vessel amongst the countless dead, Ghost is the only person left alive who has a fighting chance against The Radiance. Knowing someone is the only qualified candidate for the job doesn't make encouraging them to embrace a probable death sentence any less of a bitter pill to swallow, though. And odds are on that this sentiment extends to Hollow too, who IS going to die no matter what happens here. To put it bluntly, it's more than reasonable to conclude that Hornet hates the absolute fuck out of this.

But I don't think that's all there is to it either. Remember what I said earlier about The Pale King's bids for genocide? Well, it's not like the man deigned to limit his efforts to just the moth tribe.

"We do not choose our mothers... "

On top of everything else—an infected Hallownest being all she's ever known, the fact that she only exists because of the infection, the list goes on—Hornet has spent her life wedged into a position that's been uncomfortable and terminally unglamorous at best: she is both a daughter of her father's kingdom and of Deepnest.

Deepnest, which like the moths and many others was here long before the wyrm and his lady wife swanned onto the scene and the God Become Bug laid claim to everything the Light touched plus a considerable amount of change. THAT Deepnest, which has fought claw and thread to retain its sovereignty against same-said settler king, and for which Herrah not only surrendered her life but also agreed to bed her worst enemy, all in hopes of securing a viable future for her people (put a pin in that last part by the way, I'll come back to it soon).

Two Worlds, One Family (Ft. An Indigenous Woman Trying Her Damndest To Work With What She's Got Versus An Imperialist Who Only Signed Up For This Because He Needed The Political Favor THAT Badly, So It's The Height Of Dysfunctional Actually). Fun times!!!!

The baggage this entails for Hornet is gnarly enough without implications made by The White Lady and the pre-canon timeline of events and even Team Cherry's dev notes that the king may well have looked at baby Hornet, gone "YOINK", then ensured she spent the lion's share of her childhood reared within the pearly auspices of his Pale Court*. That would be rather advantageous for Him Specifically after all, the potential to mold a born foe into a future ally and even have her trained in combat under the same tutelage as her doomed sibling. And far be it from him to stop a grown Hornet—his own flesh and blood too!—from making Deepnest her forever home if she so pleased. He totally wouldn't be reneging on his "fair bargain made" by doing this one simple thing until Hornet came of age, not t e c h nic c a l l y.

If that is indeed the case, there's a non-zero chance Hornet's formative years were a hot mess of cultural alienation and being a good deal more privy than most to just how much of a bastard her father could be. There's an equally non-zero chance that at some point she stood or sat within earshot as The Pale King finally, finally dropped all pretense and euphemism to name the Light for precisely what (for who) it was.

See, in conjunction with the question that started this whole dang train of thought I've been asking this one too: Does Hornet know? When she speaks of confronting "the heart of [the] infection" does she know she's talking about not just a literal person but someone very specific? The Radiance, who god though she may be shares skin in the game alongside Hornet as a native woman screwed over by the same settler king, likewise deprived of her kin and saddled with a life gone horrendously pear-shaped?

I'll assume for the sake of exploring the possibility and because I think it's a likely one anyway that yes, Hornet does know. She knows, and despite everything can't help empathizing. She might even look at Radiance and see bits and pieces both reflected and slightly inversed in her own mother: Radiance was forced to the sidelines while her people—her children, the brood she was meant to lead and care for—died out under The Pale King's rule, and it's no stretch to assume she's at least as upset about that as she has been about everything else; Herrah too took drastic measures for her people's sake, trying to head off annihilation by relegating herself to the sidelines in an act that was as much calculated risk as an attempt to find wiggle room and leverage in the face of a nasty proposition.

A calculated risk that, if things continue as they are, might well amount to nothing as the rest of Deepnest gets eaten alive by the infection. It survived The Pale King's advances for so so long, only to fall here. Herrah's sacrifice would be for naught; the other tribes—themselves the king's victims—would keep succumbing to the infection too.

And this is where things fall apart.

"... or the circumstance into which we are born."

Let's be clear: I think Hornet is wise enough to know what's what here, that all the carnage and suffering falls on her father's head for starting this slow-motion trainwreck in the first place. Hallownest wasn't always Hallownest. This domain was Radiance's home first, along with many others. It was the worm-turned-king who rolled up on the scene unsolicited and decided this was a ""'problem""" that had to be """solved""".

But the fact of the matter is that he's gone and The Radiance is here, raging, seemingly inconsolable. Above and beyond being Deepnest's rightful heir, Hornet isn't in a position to countenance more splash damage even if the grief and fury fueling it makes perfect sense. She can understand without ever bringing herself to love Radiance, and she can bend her knee to practicality even if she hates the everloving shit out of it because the fact that it "has" to end this way isn't fair.

This lends itself to one last awful conclusion: that Hornet has probably considered and (rightly or wrongly) discarded the possibility that Radiance can be saved, at least not without dragging more collateral along for the ride. If even her mother and every other enemy to the king seemed to dismiss talking Radiance down as an option way back when... well. Why should Hornet hope for any better after things have escalated so far?

Again, it's practical. A practical net good is what Hornet strives for. And again, it fucking sucks.

For extra tragedy points, this makes Hornet's extended crypticness around Ghost followed by her last minute casting about for a reason to tell them "Wait, don't; not just yet" that she never voices even more of a gut punch. She can't bring herself to burden Ghost with the context that haunts her so, least of all when it might weaken their resolve to go through with what (she thinks) needs doing.

It's the "same song, different verse" which led to the mantis tribe and Deepnest being pitted against each other: Hallownest rigged the game so that two women who could have been powerful allies—who have a mutual vested interest in driving out settler rule—wound up poised as enemies instead. And how awful is that? The king for all his being extremely fucking dead still gets the last laugh, because outside of a miracle the game never manifests Hornet can salvage what her mother started and look forward to a future where Deepnest pulls itself back from the brink if and only if The Radiance dies.

Resolution comes at the price of a completed genocide. Add two more dead siblings to the unconscionable pile thereof, while we're at it. That's what it boils down to whether or not Hornet can bear to articulate it as such, and there's no grace or even a properly bittersweet ending to wring from this clusterfuck. And that is rough.

———

* This has been better explained elsewhere, but a quick rundown: The White Lady tells Ghost that Hornet and Herrah "were permitted little time together." On its surface this can be taken to mean that Hornet was still very young when Herrah was shipped off to Eternal Dreamland—except this doesn't jive with the fact that we meet Hornet as an adult. If the stasis kicked in once the Dreamers went to their rest, which in turn halted the aging process for every living bug in Hallownest, AND before all this Hornet experienced little by the way of quality time with her birth mother... I think you can see where I'm going with this.

To top it off we've got Team Cherry weighing in ominously from their dev notes on Herrah: "As part of the agreement for her alliance and her role as a dreamer, King gave her a child (Hornet). Was she allowed to keep this child or was she taken away?" This isn't confirmation by itself of course, but given additional canon details (see above): Can I get a "yikes" in the chat fellas.

[marvelsimp97]

We Found Love Again (Loki x Reader) Chapter Five - The Secret Garden

Summary: Once upon a time Asgard and Alagaësia had an allience. The Alagaësian elven princess, (Name) usually visited Asgard to learn combat and have kids around her at the similar age. She almost grew up there and became good friends with Loki after the dark prince realized why he wanted to avoid her presence in the first place. They fell in love but never got the opportunity to try and confess their feelings for each other because of the war Alagaësia was in with another kingdom. (Name) was called back to her home and Loki never saw her anymore. But one day, she came back to Asgard, centuries later. Why?

Word count: 2425

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

You led your horse towards the barns of the Rider Academy on the island of Sharian. You and your companions arrived on the shore with your horses and you jumped down from your stallion's back. It was a habit to show the residents of the Academy that you weren't enemy so you told Loki and the others to do the same.

You all walked in silence till you reached the enormous fortress' gates guarded by elven warriors. When you approached them they fell to their knees in front of you bowing their heads.

'Please, don't, my friends. No need for formalities' you smiled at them so they rouse to their feet and opened the gate for you. You gave your horses to the elves, who came to retrieve the animals.

'So this is where you always learnt all those Rider things' looked around Loki as he stepped to you.

'I was a Rider, Loki. I had to learn all of those spells' you smiled sadly watching the approaching man who you knew as your master. His brown hair still shined in the sunshine and he still looked the same even if you didn't see him since your imprisonment 451 years ago. When he arrived in front of you the gazes turned onto you from every angle. You knew every other student of the Academy is now looking at you: the mad princess of Elleméra. You weren't sure if they were right about your mental condition or not but all you felt was the overwhelming hardness of the stares at your form.

'I am glad you arrived safely, (Name)' smiled at you Eragon. His features held a few wrinkles and he looked like a 40 year old human would. He looked tired and lonely. You wanted to apologize but couldn't utter a word of that instead you said:

'Good to see you, father' you nodded keeping your face void of emotions. It surprised him that you called him father in front of everyone but his eyes showed you how happy he was at being called father by you. 'The All-Father sent his two sons and Lady Sif with me to help us ensure the peace on Alagaësia.'

'I assume he believes that if Alagaësia is at peace we could send him our army if he requires it' smiled the Rider knowingly. He was at so many political conferences that he could see through the acts of the kings and queens.

'At least one of the realms realizes his real attempts' noted Loki with a bored expression on his face. Eragon turned to him with a smile on his face.

'You must be Loki... now I can understand why my daughter always waited so eagerly to go to Asgard' chuckled lightly the half-elven Rider. Your face flared up and you looked down onto the ground embarrassed while you felt Loki's gaze turn to you.

'Did she?' sounded his voice close to your pointed ear hearing his smirk in his voice.

'She even sneaked out of the Academy countless times with Srunugr... Arya was so mad at her' shook his head Eragon sadly remembering all those times he listened to Arya fume about your behavior. You sighed at the tightening coming back to your chest.

'That was... a long time ago' you said quietly. 'We need to find rooms for the princes and Lady Sif.'

'Yes, indeed... shall we go?' motioned with his hand the Rider towards the part of the fortress where the bedchambers were placed. You ignored the curious and more hateful stares pointed at your form from everywhere. You didn't have much popularity back in your time as a Rider and could only gain more hatred from everyone than kindness or sympathy. It wasn't your fault, it was your title and your relation to Eragon and the queen. Everyone knew you were his daughter before you got to know it. You cursed yourself for being so blind to it back then but now you only wished to gain Loki's love back.

You followed Eragon through the long marble corridors decorated by beautiful stone flowers by the windows while on the other wall the whole history of Alagaësia and the Riders were carved in the marble. Your friends watched it with curiosity so you decided to tell them what it was about and told them the stories briefly. You saw their stunned expressions even Loki's who looked like a little kid under the Christmas tree. (Even if you're an elf from Alagaësia you know this phrase because well, I can't make a better metaphor. :P)

'We have arrived' smiled your father at your friends. 'This should be Lady Sif's room. Anytime you need help with anything just knock on that door down the corridor.' pointed the Rider to a plain wooden door by the corner of the end of the corridor. The room's two winged door which would give Sif her privacy was a decorated by vines carved from the oak wood. She nodded and you opened her door motioning for her to follow you. The others waited outside for you to show her everything she needed to know. Thor got a similar room to hers at the end of the corridor however Loki was placed into a room on the same corridor your room and Eragon's was.

'This will be your room, Loki. (Name) and I will be behind the fifth and seventh door' smiled the brown haired Rider at Loki. The Norse god was taller than your father but Loki and Thor was always towering over everyone. Your father had to finish the last classes he had with the new recruits and their dragons leaving you and Loki alone on the corridor.

'Would you like to take a walk around the Academy?' you asked after you showed the Trickster his room.

'I know that it was Odin's request for me to accompany you' said Loki stopping you by the door.

'Then why did you accept it?' you quirked an eyebrow questioningly at him.

'I thought a little vacation would be nice after being locked up... and I did not have as good company as yours since a long time' smirked the Trickster walking up to you. 'Shall we start our journey?'

Loki offered you the crook of his right arm as you walked along with him down the corridors and out to the field. You led him through the training fields pointing out several maneuvers and tactics practiced by the recruits and their dragons. You passed the training field which was made for only the Riders to practice swordsmanship, hand-to-hand combat and train with different weapons and magic while on the other side was a little arena made for the exams for the Riders. You explained Loki that every grade got different maneuvers and tactics to show against each other. As you walked through the Academy you showed Loki the hatching building where several dragon eggs were waiting for their owner.

'We are waiting for new recruits but only a few people want to become Riders. Father, mother and the council decided to let go of the hatching dragons whose didn't choose a Rider. Do you want to take a peek at the eggs?' you asked stopping near the glass building. You noticed Loki's curious glance towards the house but he kept silent. You decided to pull him with you chuckling at his hesitation. You felt like you were kids again. You pushed open the doors and led him inside. There were dozens of posts in the place keeping dragon eggs with colors you could imagine. You noticed Drulva, a woman with brown hair and blue eyes and teacher of the martial arts from the Vardens. She taught the recruits to use weapons. She walked silently amongst the eggs when you walked in making her pause in her tracks. Her eyes widened at your sight but she kept on her strict face. You smiled at her and walked over with Loki.

'Atra estherní ono thelduin, Drulva' you greeted and she answered you however the greetings were the only things she could learn on the ancient language. 'How are you?'

'I am well, (Name) Dröttningu' nodded the woman. 'I have heard that you could escape Vraë's prison.'

'With help, yes' you nodded. 'This is Loki, my childhood friend and prince of Asgard.'

'I'm not wondering anymore why you always sneaked out of the Academy, my princess' smiled mischievously Drulva making you blush and Loki smirk satisfied. It was the second person who was amused by it and this way he could find things out about you, things you never told him back then.

'Why is it so amusing to everyone? I was just a little kid!' you sulked still with burning cheeks.

'Oh, because you didn't see your mother's reactions... it was amusing because everyone heard her screaming throughout the Academy.' laughed the brown haired woman.

'I only remember the times when she scolded me for being irresponsible. She always told me to take responsibility for my actions and that I should act like a princess.' you sighed sadly. Arya never showed you how much she cared about you and always scolded you for the smallest of things you failed at. You ran away to Asgard when you were scolded by her for not making your exams perfectly or failing a new magic spell. You couldn't remember only one time when she smiled at you and told you that you did well. However Eragon was always there for you and showed love. Only now could you see the difference between the other students at the Academy and yourself. Loki placed a gentle hand on your upper arm at seeing your sad expression waking you from your memories.

'We should continue our tour around the fortress before dinner. I wish to be punctual' said the prince his deep voice reaching to your core. Your heart bumped harder at his voice because he was quiet since you left the main building. 'It was nice meeting you, my lady. We shall meet sometime.' smiled at Drulva Loki as he pulled you out of the hatching house.

You walked with him until you reached your favorite spot in the fields: the secret garden. The labyrinth which was placed behind the main building's right arm hid a beautiful garden but only few could find it. It was Eragon's creation when he decided to build the Academy and he wished to find the best Riders with this. The garden only showed itself if you had a pure heart... or loved someone so much that you would give your life for that person.

'Where are we going?' asked Loki curiously.

'To my favorite spot' you answered and kept silent till you reached the right spot in front of the green fence in one of the narrow passageways in the labyrinth. Loki quirked an eyebrow amused as he watched you looking at the green leaves. You opened your mouth and started singing to the plant. The dark prince of Asgard watched as the leaves slowly backed away from your form and formed an open door. When you could walk through you stopped singing and grabbed his hand pulling him with you into the garden. Loki fell completely silent at the sight. Lilac flowers framed the path to the small pond in the middle, a white marble bench stood on the other side of the pond. Red and white roses decorated the stone walls around the hidden garden while above you vines shadowed you from the sight of anyone who flied above. Dark green grass lied on the ground like a thick carpet while a stone path circled around the small pond.

'My father made this small hidden garden in the hope of finding the best Riders to prevent another betrayal' you spoke up walking over to the pond where water lilies broke the monotone darkness of the water with their pink colors.

'Do you think the not mighty students will not think it unfair?' asked Loki following you to the water.

'They don't know about it. The mighty ones are find this place on their own and cannot speak about it outside of this place. My father's spells are made to protect this secret.' you answered smiling up at Loki. His blue eyes looked deep into your (e/c) ones with something pure and gentle. Was it admiration?

'Do you remember the time when we were wrestling in the fountain of the garden at our palace?' smiled the Trickster grabbing your hand.

'That night was the last time I saw you until now' you sighed sadly.

'Did you miss me?' sounded softly through the air. You placed your hands on his chest as he stepped closer to you and held onto your waist with his arms pulling you closer. Your heart bumped fast and hard in your chest.

'There was not a day or night when I did not crave for your company in that rotten cell I was banished to... I know that we changed and that we lost a lot of time but I want to try again and this time, I'm not leaving you no matter what' you said determined. Soft lips touched yours cutting you from air and hands massaged your scalp and skull through your soft (h/c) long locks pulling you closer and closer to his body. You slid your arms around his neck and held onto him tightly not wanting to let go. When you were too out of breath Loki pulled away panting and pressed his forehead to yours.

'I will not let you go this time, my queen' he whispered sliding his hands down onto your slim waist and caressed your hipbones through the gown you wore. You knew if you don't let go of him now you wouldn't till next morning until you get rid of the want you had for Loki during the five hundred years of your imprisonment. So you pulled away a bit and looked up at him.

'We should go back now. I have to show you the main building and the dining hall' you said.

'I could do without dinner' smirked the dark prince playfully.

'But Thor will be concerned about our absence' you pointed out.

'Ugh... somebody should tell Odin that I am old enough to not be in need of a babysitter' rolled his eyes Loki following you out of the garden and smiled happily at your bubbling laugh as it erupted from your chest.

To be continued...

[sunlightandsuffering]

I am having so much fun imagining Prince Eren as this brat who seems like he doesn't know anything, someone who seems innocent and is only interested in fighting than politics but will 100% choose violence if you touch his 'people' and threaten his freedom to do as he likes.

"Oh I "need" to lend you my knight for the good of the kingdom?" fuck that. Here let me stab you to death and ask my friend Hanji to dissolve your body using this "acid"

"You want to marry me off to this girl cause they have dirt on my brother?" Let me take care of that. Burned their castle to the ground...

"You want to imprison/execute my knight if he (Mikasa) doesn't marry your daughter? My knight took your ugly daughter's innocence?" How could that ever happen? we're together 99.9% of the time. 🔪🤔 Unleashes Mikasa to fight in a trial by combat/gladiator style and kills almost every knight in that family before they were forced to withdraw.

The switch is real with this prince... 😁

BRATTY PRINCE EREN WHO'S IN LOVE WITH HIS KNIGHT YES I'M HERE FOR IT!! He's such a little psycho i love him, he WILL choose violence every time, and surprisingly, Mikasa his widely feared knight is the only person able to talk sense into him. They'll be at a war meeting with like maybe another castle discussing the merits of their alliance and the rival King or prince whatever cuz Eren isn't king yet, makes a little threat and Eren's eyes flash with crazy, he literally stands up, ready to walk away from the whole thing and have it just be a bloodbath, but Mikasa grabs his hand, holding him by the wrist armor and all and somehow manages to convince him not to slaughter and entire enemy kingdom. The rival king takes a liking to this knight and the power he has over the prince, thinks maybe he'd be a good match for his second daughter and Eren balks at even the suggestion. Mikasa has to prevent murder for the second time that night 🤣🤣 but omg I love it he's SUCH a brat, but not only with like his craziness, also with Mikasa, he pushes the line SO far with her.

She usually takes it in stride and she can deal with Eren's crazy, but when he's washing her hair and rubbing her back, making her sleep with him bc its 'too dangerous' without her, when he only encourages the rumours that he's gay and fucking his knight, she's like lord plz have mercy.

[alovesongshewrote]

Almost A Thousand Years - 1100 | Hisirdoux Casperan

Plot:  You’ve known Hisirdoux Casperan for almost a thousand years.  You’ve hated him for almost a thousand years.  And for almost a thousand years, you’ve been cursed to feel each others pain.  But somewhere in that time, things changed.  [Hisirdoux Casperan x Mostly Gender Neutral but Probably Female Presenting Based on How Historical Men Treat Them!Reader]

Word Count:  2,494

Warnings:  Enemies to lovers, so general hatred, reader starts out as a Gumm-Gumm spy, angst, death, pain, and later torture, but i don’t think there’s any swearing

A/N:  So, this has been my brain baby for a while.  As of current, I’m working on the eighth chapter, so there’s definitely more to come.  I’ve worked really hard on it, and I’m super proud of myself for sticking with it (my attention span is real short, so this is a miracle.)  Thank you so much for reading, you don’t know how much it means to me.  Also thank you to @mydouxie​ for asking for this super politely, you’re awesome and also the reason I’m putting it out tonight.  Now, sit back, relax, and enjoy the fic.

Back | Next

“Douxie?  Doux, come on, you’d better wake up right now.  Wake up.  Wake up!  Douxie, don’t do this, please,”  You begged, leaning over the body of your closest friend, and former worst enemy.

“Oh god,” you choked, “No, no, no, no, please… please don’t leave me,” There was silence,  And then you began to sob.  

The voices of your friends rung out around you, but you were too tired to decipher what they said and too numb to care.

This couldn’t be happening.  It just wasn’t possible.  Hisirdoux Casperan had been in your life for almost as long as you could remember.  There were times when he had been your life.  There was no way he was just gone.  But he was.  And it was killing you on the inside.  You’d been through a lot in the past nine-hundred-and-nineteen years.  You’d lost friends, suffered wars, witnessed pandemics, and been tortured.  You’d stayed strong through all of it, but this?  Seeing your best friend, dead on the ground?  This broke you.

There was once a time, long ago, when you would have celebrated.  Centuries in the past, when you were young and naive, and so absolutely stupid.  It was the beginning for you, and for him, and for this fic.

So, you tuned out your mourning friends and Archie’s sorrowful yowls, and you let yourself melt back into the past.

--

It was sometime in the twelfth century.  

King Arthur was on the throne, ruling his kingdom with an iron fist and a hatred for all magical beings.

And you were a witch.

This led to a childhood of abandonment issues, poverty, and self-hate.  You, and everyone around you,  thought you a freak; a monster.  There is no need to say that you had a rather nasty upbringing.  You’d experienced some of the worst things humanity had to offer, so the obvious next step was to turn against the humans and join the force set to destroy them.

When you were eight years old, you pledged allegiance to Gunmar, offering your services as a witch, and a spy.

Life with the Gumm-Gumms wasn’t much better than life on the streets, but at the very least you received some basic training where your magic was concerned.  The more you practiced, the stronger you became, the better asset you were, the less likely your death was.  It was simple enough.  The knowledge that your strength was the only thing keeping you from dying a horrible death was a fantastic motivator, and it really helped you rise through the ranks of the Gumm-Gumm forces.

Maybe a little too far.

Eleven years after you’d joined Gunmar, he summoned you to the arena.  You were in a panic, not knowing what he wanted, you just assumed that he wanted to kill you and you were absolutely going to die.

Upon entering the arena, however, you were not brutally murdered, which came as a bit of a shock to you.  You had no time to process this, however, when the king troll spoke your name, calling you to the center of the arena. You walked to the middle of the gigantic stone room, kneeling on the cold floor before your master.

“You’ve done well for our kind (L/N),” he bellowed, “You’ve proven your loyalty time and time again,”

You could feel the eyes of hundreds of Gumm-Gumms focusing in on you.  It wasn’t pleasant.  Maybe you’d die after all.

Gunmar rose from his throne, “You support the cause.  You know King Aurthur has wrongfully banished us from our homelands, imprisoned and executed our kind without reason,” 

You stood up straighter as the troll began to circle you, “Yes my lord,”

“Then you will have no problem with this task,”

“Anything you ask, my lord, it will be done,”

The troll made a sound that could have been a laugh.  You weren’t sure, you were pretty busy trying not to do anything that could get you killed.  Eleven years of allegiance were pretty good insurance, but there was no guarantee with the likes of Gunmar.

“You will act as our spy.  Go to the king’s wizard, demand he take you in as an apprentice.  There are whispers, rumors that the wretched magician is building a weapon that could destroy me,”  there was that laugh again, “You will find out everything you can about this weapon and report back to me,”

“Yes, my lord,”

“Do not fail me (L/N).  If you do not succeed, you already know your fate,”

You gulped, bowing to the king as he dismissed you.  Your mission was effective immediately, you packed up your (very) few belongings and headed through the woods to the kingdom of Camelot, preparing yourself to destroy it from the inside.

--

It didn’t take too much to get into the palace.  You were actually quite surprised at how little effort it took to convince Merlin to take you in as an apprentice.  Getting him to trust you was a different matter.

And getting the other apprentice to trust you was a different matter on top of the first matter.

Merlin was cold to you, but you’d gathered that it was just his personality, but the other apprentice?  He was quirky and kind to everyone else, but he treated you as if he already knew you were a Gumm-Gumm spy trying to steal vital information from his master.  His familiar acted much the same.

Maybe it was something about how you behaved?  You were used to the militaristic style of the Gumm-Gumms and Gunmar, who could kill you anytime he wanted if you messed up. 

You had no idea if that was the issue, or if this guy just had something against witches.  What you did know, was that whatever his problem was, it was keeping you from getting any actual work done.

If you didn’t report anything to Gunmar soon, he’d probably kill you, so you decided that you needed to get this apprentice out of the way.  You weren’t going to kill him, that would be too obvious.  You were just going to go up to him and calmly ask what his problem was.

This did not go down well.

By the end of that interaction, you and Hisirdoux Casperan were both screaming at each other, his familiar, Archie, had scratched your shoulder, and no less than three bookshelves had been knocked over.

Your relationship did not improve from there.

You fought with the boy wizard almost daily, with similar amounts of destruction.  It didn’t matter what it was whether it be his stupid man-bun, the colour you wore that day, his lute-playing, your fidgeting, or something even more trivial than that.  The two of you would always find some way to yell at each other because of it.

And it was really starting to piss Merlin off.

On the bright side, it was a decent way to let off steam.  The stress of being a spy was a lot to take, and yelling at someone really helped.  The catharsis really helped your work ethic.  You even managed to find out a little bit about Merlin’s weapon; an amulet of some kind.

Gunmar was pleased with your report.

With the exception of the constant fighting between you and Casperan, things were going pretty decently.  You finally had a place to experiment with your magic and use it for a purpose other than warfare, Gunmar was satisfied and showed no signs of killing you, and the king’s sister, Morgana, had really taken you under her wing.

And then she fell off a cliff and died.

Things took a downward turn after that.

You’d returned to Camelot, everyone mourning the sister of the king when Casperan approached you.

“You have something to do with this,”

You panicked for a moment before you realized he had no way of knowing that you did indeed have something to do with this, “I don’t know what you mean,”

“You have something to do with this,” his tone was angrier, more accusatory.  At his side, his familiar looked very concerned, “I don’t know what you did, but you are the reason Morgana is dead!”

“How dare you!” you cried.  You knew that you were kind of the reason that the sorceress was dead.  And you felt guilty about it.  You hadn’t let yourself feel guilt in years.  You hadn’t let yourself feel anything but fear in years.  You were having a very hard time adjusting to the pit in your chest.  Casperan was not helping.

“I dare because you can’t be real!  You have to be a traitor, or a spy or something!”

“Oh really?  How do you figure?”

“Douxie, stop,” Archie hissed.  Neither of you listened.

“Nobody with your skillset strolls up to the palace and asks to be an apprentice, you’re strong enough to be a master wizard, but you still came here, and stole everyone’s focus, and then you did,” he struggled to figure out your exact motive was, “Something!  Now Morgana is dead, and it’s your fault,”

If you weren’t actually a spy, you’d probably be offended.  You’d also point out how he had next to no evidence of this.  However, you were very much a spy, and you weren’t in the headspace to argue properly.  Instead of taking down his argument bit by bit, you just went for what you thought would hurt the most.

“So you’re accusing me of murder because you’re jealous?”  you scoffed, “Grow up!  It isn’t my fault that I’m better at magic than you!”

It wasn’t your fault, the fear of instant death did that.

“Better at magic, eh?  Well, let’s test that theory!”  Casperan moved a hand to his wrist where his magic bracelet of magic sat.  It glowed blue for a moment, showing spinning runes twisting into the form of a spell.

Then the blue light came at you.

You were more than a little shocked.  The two of you would fight, yes, but it never got physical or magical. Your back collided with the wall, dragging the breath from your lungs and making you cough.  

Archie hissed, once again trying to get the both of you to calm down.  It still didn’t work.

Casperan looked way too smug for someone who had only landed a hit with the element of surprise.  You scowled at him, reaching for your own cuff.  He wanted a fight?  You’d give him one.  

Your magic shot itself at the wizard, suspending him high in the air before dropping him harshly.

This continued for a time, absolutely destroying the room you were in.  The two of you probably would’ve fought for the rest of time had Merlin not barged in.

“What is the meaning of this!”  He exclaimed, stopping both you and Casperan mid-spell.

“They started it!” you and your fellow apprentice pointed your fingers at each other.

“I don’t care who started it.  I’ve had enough of your constant bickering!  You have both taken this too far, and don’t-”

“But master!”

“But master me.  Your fighting is disrupting the order of Camelot.  I cannot allow this to continue a moment longer!”

Oh no.  What did that mean exactly?  Was he going to cast you back out onto the street?  Kill you?  Maybe that was for the best.  If you were removed from the palace, Gunmar would kill you in ways Merlin had never dreamed of.

Maybe death by Merlin was the best outcome here.

So, you didn’t flinch when the master wizard raised his hands and spoke an incantation, painting the room in a green glow.

But you didn’t die.

Instead, a beam of light wove itself around your wrist, then around the wrist of the other apprentice.  The beam glowed brighter, tying itself into knots before it, and the green glow of the room faded away.

“Master, what-”

“What did you do?” you stared down at your wrist, shaking slightly.  You felt like you were going to be sick.

“An ancient binding spell.  You will now feel every bit of each other’s pain.  That should stop your pointless squabbling,”

“What!?  For how long!?” you cried out, grabbing your wrist and backing away from both wizards.

“Forever.  Now if you’ll excuse me,”

You didn’t even notice Merlin leave the room.  You just focused on the patch of skin where the magic had encircled you, binding you to Casperan and sealing your fate.

There was no way Gunmar would let you live if he knew about this.  You were compromised, it was as simple as that.  If the troll king found out that you were bound to Merlin’s apprentice?  And that said apprentice was already suspicious of you, and would absolutely use this connection to find out why you were really here?  You were going to die so painfully.

And suddenly you couldn’t breathe.  Your whole body shook slightly.  Your ribs hurt, your throat felt like it was closing, you had to go.  You didn’t even realize Casperan was talking, whether to you or his familiar, it didn’t matter.  You just turned tail and ran from the room.

And you didn’t stop.

--

Merlin searched for you.

He wasn’t the only one.

A small search party of knights, plus Merlin, scoured the land looking for you, trying to find where you’d run to. 

It was Italy.  You’d gone to Italy.  And you planned to go further, running as far and fast as you were able.

Needless to say, they didn’t find you.

The only reason they knew you were alive was Hisirdoux.  He wasn’t in immense pain, or in a vegetative state, or dead, so you had to be okay, wherever you were.  The thought was comforting, not only to Merlin, who considered you his responsibility but to Hisirdoux, who felt a little guilty.

A little guilty in this context means extremely guilty.  

He felt responsible for your disappearance.  He had wrongfully accused you, and you’d been punished for it.  He felt a little bit guilty every time he tripped or otherwise hurt himself.

The search continued until the battle of Killahead, where Gunmar revealed your spy status, demanding your head on a pike and accusing you of betraying him.  Hisirdoux stopped feeling so bad after that.

Instead, he was angry.  He’d been right, and no one had believed him.  You’d broken into his life, stolen the hearts of everyone he cared about, and none of them listened when he brought up how suspicious you were.  He was full of resentment, not only for you but for himself.  He should have tried harder to reveal you as a spy.  He should have done something, anything, but he did nothing.

These thoughts tortured him on the inside, one day leading him to punch a wall, scaring the daylights out of Archie.  The apprentice ignored the questions from his familiar, electing to stare down at his bruising hand and wondering if you felt that.

And even more than a thousand miles away, you did.

[loki-hargreeves]

Loki x Reader - You're Cellmates

Warnings: being imprisoned, angst, low-key sexual tension between Loki and the reader, vulgar language, implied smut, mentions of death, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 5,6K

Summary: Loki is imprisoned by his father, and so are you. You’re an Avenger, so you and Loki don’t get along too well after what happened in New York. As time passes, you learn to know each other better. There is an obvious tension between you two and soon enough, you do something about it. All seems relatively well until Loki gets the news of his mother’s death. You didn’t think you could ever see the god of mischief upset, but when you do, all you want to do is comfort him.

Author’s Note: This was requested by someone anonymously. I hope they see this :) Please enjoy! Xx

THIRD POV

Odin was definitely not the same king he was before, or perhaps he had always been an asshole. Y/N wasn’t sure whether it was the first or the latter, but she didn’t care. The old king pissed her off and completely pushed aside what mattered the most, the safety of the people. He ignored her when she tried to tell the king that throwing Loki in a cell - as tempting as it was - it was wrong. The god of mischief had valuable information that could lead Y/N and the other Avengers to the people who stood behind this all. Deep down, she was aware that Loki didn’t do what he did in New York all by himself.

But now that Loki had been thrown away in a cell, it was useless to get answers.

In a moment in which Y/N’s anger mixed with worry and even hatred, she had let go of the grip she had on her tongue and let Odin hear his honors – which hadn’t been so wise after all. After all, no one disrespected a king without consequences.

Long story short, Odin had decided that if she was so determined to crack Loki, she could gladly join him in the heavily guarded dungeons. Thor tried to stop his father from imprisoning Y/N, who had done nothing wrong, but even his word wasn’t heard.

That’s how Y/N ended up being marched down the long, dark halls of the prison to her cell which would be her home for a while. The most dangerous creatures from all around the galaxy were there, looking at her with curious eyes. Some of them looked unbothered as others seemed to enjoy the female company. Seeing the others made her stomach churn in disgust. It was so unfair that she had to be here among such horrible criminals! She knew that she could get out if needed, but for now, she didn’t want to risk it, so she played along.

Of course, Odin’s words had to be taken seriously. Instead of getting her own cell in the large prison, she was going to spend her time with Loki! It was almost comedic at that point. She was going to be locked away with the man she fought against. Great!

Truth be told, she was angry at him. She thought she had known the prince. After all, Y/N was Asgardian. But it turned out she didn’t know him as well as she thought. Because of what happened on Midgard, she wasn’t too excited to see him.

Loki heard the heavy footsteps approaching his cell so curiously, he took his eyes off his book and looked at whoever walked there. To see Y/N in the metal chains and cuffs was a surprise. The guards held onto her as if she was a genuine threat and judging by her expression, she looked beyond annoyed and enraged. Their eyes met and Loki smirked, possibly annoying the woman even further. As the guards stopped by Loki’s cell, his smirk was wiped off his face. He froze in shock as he watched them opening the cell magically. They uncuffed Y/N and pushed her forward so she could step inside the bright cell. The moment she was inside, they closed the barrier once more.

Just like that, they were trapped, together.

“Well, well, well, what did you do in order to end up here with me? Did you kill someone?” Loki teased her, trying to hide how surprised he was by making witty statements.

A bed appeared out of nowhere along with a few belongings to keep Y/N company. She didn’t have much. Silently, she sat down on her bed and took a deep breath. Either Loki would make her lose her mind or the awfully bright walls would. “None of your business.”

“Oh, come on, Y/N. We’re not going to get rid of each other anytime soon, it seems. You might as well tell me now or I’ll find out eventually,” Loki tried to persuade her. He had a point. That bastard always found out everything one way or another.

As much as she hated it, she decided to tell him. She wasn’t in the mood to listen to him repeating his question either. “To say it shortly, your father is a piece of shit King and clearly, he can’t handle constructive criticism.”

A low chuckle left Loki’s rosy lips, “I can’t say I disagree with you, but I must correct you; he’s not my father.”

“Whatever you say, Loki.”

“But really, why did Odin send you here? There must be something more to it than criticism,” Loki pondered. Knowing that Odin stood behind this only made him even keener on getting answers.

Y/N lay on the bed, resting her head on the surprisingly soft pillow. She let her tense muscles relax as she closed her eyes. Perhaps she could pass time by meditating? “I told him that I wanted information from you and that imprisoning you was a big mistake. After he refused to listen to me, I might’ve called him out on a few things. The eye thing really got to the old man,” Y/N shrugged, pretending to be cool about it although deep inside she felt like she was losing it. 

She was Loki’s cellmate!

          A few days passed very slowly. The only time Y/N could get some privacy was when she used the bathroom which was magically hidden behind the bright white wall as if it led to another dimension. Otherwise, she would be in their shared cell, trying to come up with things to do to pass the time. For most of the time, Loki and Y/N ignored each other. Eventually, one of them would get so bored that they ended up speaking.

At first, it had been slightly awkward and annoying. Being unable to escape one another was taking a toll on their nerves, but when they found common ground, it wasn’t all that bad. Loki wasn’t as big of an asshole as Y/N thought he’d be. Sure, he was mean, but she believed he was putting up an act. Loki wanted to distance himself from others by building up his walls. She knew far too well what that was like, which was why she recognized that from his behavior.

Y/N had noticed that Loki would lie on his bed with his eyes closed, but he wasn’t sleeping. It was almost as if the god of mischief was daydreaming, which definitely made Y/N curious for once. After she had witnessed Loki like that several times now, she finally wanted to question him about it.

He was deep in thought, so he didn’t even flinch when Y/N walked over to the other side of the cell. It wasn’t until she sat down at the end of his bed that Loki opened his eyes and sighed. He seemed annoyed to be disturbed, but it wasn’t like he didn’t have all the time in the world to return to whatever he was doing after she was done talking to him.

“What are you doing?” Y/N asked him calmly. It amazed her how relaxed she was around him. Before Loki had fallen off the Bifrost, she had seen him in the halls of the palace. They never talked much and honestly, she always thought he liked to be mysterious. When they did talk, it had always been very polite. That all changed when Y/N, just like the other Avengers, stood against him in New York. Now they were locked away together, kept hidden from the rest of the nine realms and beyond.

“That is none of your business,” Loki told her sharply. Of course, he was moody. His mother had visited him, either in secret or not, Y/N didn’t know. She hadn’t heard their conversation, because of the magic barrier around them but when Loki was left alone, he was different. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the conversation they had was unpleasant which now resulted in a moody prince.

Unafraid of Loki’s presence, Y/N moved her legs up on the bed too, hugging her knees as she rested her eyes on Loki. She hated that she found him attractive. When she forgot about the fact that he was supposed to be her enemy, she did think that he was alright. Loki was smart, incredibly clever and his abilities were astonishing. So yes, she didn’t think that he was that bad. “I told you why I ended up here. Whatever you’re doing can’t be that bad.”

Loki rolled his jade eyes, trying to act like he didn’t care less about her when the truth was that he did. Y/N, despite joining his brother and his earthly friends, was different. She had the guts to stand up against Odin and Loki had to respect that. She had even heard her unleash her sharp tongue of Thor back in the old days. If it wasn’t for their current situation, he would’ve gladly tried to become friends with her. Now everything seemed so useless. Nothing had a purpose, not truly.

His silence was defeating. He wasn’t an easy egg to crack, but Y/N wasn’t someone who gave up easily either. Careful not to push his buttons, she tried again, “You know how it goes, Loki. If I show you mine, you show me yours,” Y/N tried to refer to the conversation they had when she arrived there. She didn’t intend to sound that dirty, but it was too late after the words had already left her mouth.

Did she seriously just say that?

Loki clenched his jaw as the naughty thoughts entered his head. It was impossible not to think of it like that, but Loki tried to avoid letting his thought slinger. The more he thought about her, the more he liked her. He hated that he cared for someone. Fuck. “You won’t give up, will you?” He finally said something. As their eyes met, he noticed how flustered she seemed. Behind her confident smirk, he noticed a shyer side of her. She probably hadn’t expected to sound so frisky either. It was undeniable that her words set fire to a new kind of energy in the cell, creating a tension that wasn’t there before.

“We have all the time in the world,” Y/N said again.

Loki knew she was right. He sat up on the bed and crossed his long legs, sitting in front of Y/N. It was almost silly how the two of them sat on the bed like children at a sleepover, whispering about some unimportant gossip. Only they weren’t children at a sleepover, they were prisoners among some of the deadliest and most dangerous criminals of the universe. They were fighting against each other not too long ago, but now they were in the same trouble. “What do you think I was doing?” Loki wanted to hear her thoughts.

“Daydreaming,” She said quickly without any hesitation. There was a hopeful glimmer in her eyes. Y/N wished that she was right. The thought of Loki escaping inside his own head was cute, as long as he didn’t go to dark places.

Loki was surprised at her guess. It wasn’t too far off from reality, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be honest with her. “You really think I would do that?”

“Why not? You’re probably trying to come up with an escape plan or something,” Y/N tried to say casually, but it sounded more light-hearted when she laughed softly.

Why was that so cute? Loki couldn’t comprehend why his mind was so tender when it came to her. He could see her good traits and the bad, yet he didn’t manage to hate her. Something about her was so welcoming which almost frightened him. Loki blamed his behavior on isolation. His mind was only playing tricks on him. It had to be that way. “Maybe you’re right,” Loki gave away eventually.

Her eyes lit up. Why was she so happy? Why was she even so interested in his business in the first place? Was the simply longing for company as well or did she actually care?

“Why do you care so much?” Loki asked her as bluntly as he could. He ended up sounding quite harsh, but he didn’t try to correct his tone.

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, “Gee, sorry for caring. You’ve just been sitting there all day, of course, I’m curious.”

“ 'Curiosity killed the cat',” Loki remembered an old rather foolish saying, but it was often true. Not that he listened to it. Loki was most certainly curious.

There was a certain look in Loki’s darkened eyes that made Y/N want to go closer to him. His entire presence was charming and threatening at the same time. He wasn’t the most boring cellmate she could’ve gotten. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Y/N admitted as she suddenly got up from his bed. Loki caught himself wishing she would’ve stayed. “It’s not like anyone’s going to attack me anytime soon, unless…” She took a dramatic little pause as she turned to face Loki, “…unless you plan on murdering me in my sleep.”

She said it with such ease, clearly not believing that Loki would do that to her. He liked that she wasn’t terrified of him. Or maybe he just liked her in general. Whatever it was, Loki felt damned. “You better sleep with one eye open,” Loki warned her and for the first time, he sounded calm. That was almost scarier than seeing him angry.

       Y/N’s words hadn’t been the wisest. Believing no one would attack them in such a heavily guarded prison was easy to do, but oh how wrong she had been. Loki and Y/N were minding their own business when all of a sudden it felt like the cell was shaking. It couldn’t have been an earthquake, but it was definitely powerful. Even the bright lights flickered as something seemed to disturb the electricity in the dungeons.

The two cellmates looked at each other wide-eyed, confirming that they both heard and felt that. Moments later, they heard people yelling out in pain, others cheering and a lot of heavy footsteps. The alarms went off and it seemed like that all hell broke loose in only a few seconds. It all came closer to them and fast. Worry began to bubble in Y/N’s chest as she stood up and looked outside their cell. She didn’t want any trouble. After all, she wasn’t even a criminal! Then again, a little prison rebellion could be fun. Unfortunately, something told her this was more than some prison rebellion…

“Loki, what’s going on?” Y/N wondered if he had any knowledge of this.

She hadn’t noticed that he had appeared right next to her. His steps were so silent, he could sneak around like an animal. It almost startled her. “How am I supposed to know?” Loki snapped. That sounded just like him.

The two of them finally noticed what was going on. Something or someone was letting the prisoners out of their cells. The guards struggled to keep them down and some bodies had begun to pile on the polished floors, both prisoners and guards. The sight was shocking, to say at least. Whatever attacked the Asgardian prison had to be dangerous. “That doesn’t look too good,” Y/N mumbled as the creatures neared their cell. All of a sudden, a large, horned beast with small, blue eyes walked straight to the barrier that was the only thing between them. Something about him was awfully familiar.

The creature looked at Y/N through narrowed eyes, then changing its gaze to Loki. Y/N watched from the side as Loki and the strange creature stared each other down. It was intense. The creature had let out every other prisoner, but he hesitated when it came to Loki for some reason. By now, Y/N’s heart was pounding in her chest. Would it attack them? What was it? What did it want?

When the creature huffed and eventually walked away, leaving them behind, Loki spoke up “You might want to take the stairs to the left!”

What was he doing?

And it appeared to acknowledge Loki’s advice. It glanced over its shoulder, looking at Loki once more. Loki’s words seemed to be appreciated as the creature continued to do whatever havoc it had on its mind.

Y/N let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. “Okay, what the hell was that? What just happened!?”

“Clearly, some prisoners wanted to start a riot. It seems like we weren’t invited,” He replied so calmly which was astonishing. Someone just freed the most dangerous criminals from the safety of the dungeons, and they were headed outside! Then again, Loki didn’t seem to care too much about that. They were going to attack the very people who had turned their backs on him.

“For fuck’s sake!” Y/N growled and turned around, annoyed that she was stuck there when she should’ve been outside helping people. Yes, she didn’t like the throne, but it didn’t mean she wouldn’t like to defend the people at least.

Loki hadn’t expected to see her this stressed over something like this. Why wasn’t she angry or happy that the prisoners caused a little mayhem? Asgard had turned their shoulder to her as well as Odin imprisoned her for no good reason. She had all the right to be angry at them and thrive as the prisoners caused a little trouble. “Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll remember us next time around,” Loki tried to cheer her up.

She stared him dead in the eye, “Are you serious? What if they cause huge problems? What if the entire realm burns and we’re stuck here in this tiny, stupid cell!”

It became clear that she was overthinking things. Loki sighed as he tried to stay relaxed. He knew there was no use in getting worried or annoyed. After all, he had been thrown in a cell so whatever issues Asgard faced were no longer his to worry about. “Well, I’d say we make the most of it as we’re stuck here.”

That certainly made Y/N quiet. Loki smirked to top it all off. Did he imply something or was he just teasing her? It was beyond frustrating that she couldn’t tell. She wanted to wipe that smirk off his face. As wrong as it was, it did sound a little tempting to let out some steam by delving into pleasure. But with Loki? From a professional point of view, it would be so wrong, but everything else about it was so alluring. 

There was total chaos erupting outside their cell, but somehow all they could think about was each other and the undeniable sexual tension between then that had built up during the past few days.

“What do you have in mind, Loki?” Y/N raised an eyebrow, feeling courageous. Maybe he was right. Maybe all they could do now was to take advantage of the situation. No one would see them anyway.

Loki walked closer to her, never taking his eyes off her eyes. Somehow, he felt even more excited as there was chaos out there. A while ago, they fought against each other and now they were here, moments away from attacking each other with pleasure. It was mesmerizing how fast things could change.

It was almost as their minds connected, lingering on the same wavelength. Loki caressed Y/N’s cheek softly and eventually grabbed a handful of her hair so he could tilt her head. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, feeling nervous, excited and a little rebellious as their lips collided. Her heart wasn’t beating hard from fear anymore but from lust. The kiss turned rough quite fast. They were both pent up with everything and it felt like this was the beginning of something that would ease their minds.

Loki picked her body up and moved towards her bed. Their lips parted when he threw her on the mattress, and he climbed on top of her body. “I’m surprised, Y/N. I didn’t think you had it in you,” Loki teased her a little bit as he grinded his body closer to hers, getting eager pretty fast. How could he not when a woman like her was underneath him and she wanted him too?

“Shut up and kiss me before I change my mind,” Y/N smirked. She knew there was no way she would push him away now, but it was fun to piss him off.

            Getting updates about what happened to Asgard was hard. After all, they were prisoned. After they let their guards down and ended up in bed with each other, the tension between them changed. Being one so intimately made them more comfortable around each other. It didn’t magically make them trust each other, but it was easier to accompany one another in the cell.

They followed the life outside their cell. Some of the prisoners were returned to their cells, some bodies were cleaned from the bloody floors. It was a mess for sure. What it had resulted in, they were yet to find out.

A few days passed and finally, someone seemed to come to visit them. Y/N and Loki had been on his bed as he showed her a page of the book he was reading. When they saw Fandral by the barrier, holding his helmet in his arms, they became worried. Fandral, who was usually quite cheerful and easygoing, looked exhausted and full of sorrow.

When he told Loki the news, it made sense why he looked like that.

Frigga was dead,

she was killed by the dark elves. Her funeral was already arranged, and they hadn’t let Loki attend it.

Just like that, Fandral said his condolences to his past friend, nodded to Y/N respectfully and walked away.

“I’m so sorry, Loki,” Y/N said quietly, tears stinging her own eyes. Everyone loved Frigga. She was the polar opposite of Odin, a sweet and strong Queen. Even though Loki claimed that he didn’t care about his adoptive family, it was clear as daylight that he cared about his mother. Y/N was worried that this would be too much for him. She was genuinely worried about Loki.

Loki got up from the bed and he was eerily silent. Y/N stayed on it, afraid to get in his way. She just watched as Loki now faced her with his back. His breaths became heavier and his fingers curled into fists. Out of nowhere, some of the furniture were knocked across the floor, books and other belongings scattering everywhere. Loki’s magic hit the barrier which radiated a golden light.

He wasn’t only heartbroken over his loss; he was full of rage and disgusted that his so-called father hadn’t even let Loki say his final goodbye to Frigga. The least he deserved was to attend her funeral!

Then Loki remembered Odin’s exact words,

‘Frigga is the only reason you’re alive and you’ll never see her again.’

“I hate him!” Loki shrieked, his deep voice full of anger and spite. “It’s his fault! He should’ve never locked me away. That old beast couldn’t protect her!” Loki continued just as angrily, now turning around to face Y/N. Despite how angry the god was, he had tears forming in his jade eyes. The sight of him standing there broke Y/N’s heart. He looked so hurt. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what it felt like to be in his shoes now.

“Neither could Thor…they let her down,” He added more quietly this time and blinked away a tear. That’s when Y/N rose from his bed and tried to walk closer to him carefully as if she was trying to get close to a wild animal. His hurt was justified but also unpredicted.

“I’m so sorry, Loki. I truly am,” Y/N repeated herself, unsure of what to say. She had silent tears rolling down her face too, but she wasn’t nearly as hurt as Loki who felt like he had lost everything. The news of Frigga’s death made his world spin. It simply didn’t feel real, it was so unfair!

His last words to his mother echoed in his head and Loki felt sick. His gut twisted in a rotten way and he was so angry at himself. He had told her she wasn’t his mother, making her cry before she vanished from his sight forever. If only he had known it was the last time they would speak.

Loki remembered the creature by the barrier, who he knew now was named Kurse. Loki had told him to take the stairs to the left. Did he lead the beast to his mother? As much as he didn’t want to believe it, a part of his mind told him that it was all his fault. Guilt hit him like a tidal wave and just like that, he was the contrary of the careless god he pretended to be.

As tears ran down his angered expression, Loki backed away from Y/N, not wanting to hurt her as his rage rippled through his body. Magic was burning his fingertips, begging to be unleashed. He kicked the bedside table that was already knocked over by his magic so hard that it broke.

“Loki!” Y/N knew that he was hurt but destroying things wouldn’t help him. Carefully, she walked back to him, not caring if she got hurt as she ever so gently put her hand on his back. She could feel how fast his chest was rising and she could even feel his heartbeat. “Loki,” She said his name again, but she wasn’t sure what she could say. No words could possibly make him feel better now which she was perfectly aware of.

The tall god turned around, revealing his teary face. Moments later, Y/N wrapped her arms around him, and she pulled him into a loving hug. At first, Loki froze. He wasn’t sure how to react to her affection. But it felt good. He would never admit it, but her comfort was exactly what he needed. Loki clung onto her body and that’s when his demeanour betrayed him.

They eventually ended up sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall as Loki cried against Y/N’s shoulder. He was ashamed that he couldn’t keep himself together but glad that she didn’t judge him as she saw him at his weakest point.

Hearing such raw cries from Loki was something Y/N thought she would never hear. Hell, she hated that for a moment even she thought that he was incapable of feeling when the truth was that he might’ve cared the most. She held him a little tighter as her guilt ate her up alive. They had been so wrong about Loki.

“I’m so sorry, Loki,” Y/N cooed gently after what felt like forever. By now, his cries had calmed down, but his tears were an endless stream. His usually bright eyes full of mischief were now dull and empty. He stared at the floor that was a mess by now, too tired to raise his gaze from it.

Loki’s head rested against Y/N’s chest and her hands were tracing patterns on his back and shoulders. He had to admit that he was glad he wasn’t alone now. If she wasn’t in there with him, he wasn’t sure what he would’ve done by now. “I can’t believe she’s gone.” Loki cleared his throat so he could find his voice. He sounded like a broken and beaten man. “My last words to her were so cruel. I told her that I didn’t consider her as my mother.”

Living with that would be hard for him. He could never take those words back, even if he wanted to and it killed him a little bit on the inside.

“I’m sure she knew you didn’t mean it. Frigga loved you so much, Loki,” Y/N tried to comfort him. It was true, after all. Frigga wasn’t secretive about the fact she loved her youngest son. The entirety of Asgard knew about their close bond. It was sweet.

“I wish I could’ve attended her funeral ceremony,” Loki mumbled quietly. “It would’ve been fair!” Out of all the cruel things his ‘father’ had done, this was the worst. Who kept their own son from attending their mother’s funeral? A monster, that is. Odin was a cruel, heartless monster and Loki had no compassion whatsoever left for that man. Not even an ounce.

Y/N hated Odin too and her hatred for him grew after the card he pulled. Something had changed in the old king and honestly, Y/N wished that karma would get to him eventually. Perhaps it had been true. Perhaps Odin had truly been a terrible father all along. It would explain a lot. “When we get out of here, we can hold a separate ceremony for her memory,” Y/N suggested after a while.

That made Loki look up at her. Did she really mean that? He couldn’t understand how anyone, let alone she would want to see him outside this prison cell and do something so considerate. “When we get out of here?” Loki repeated her words, almost cracking a smile at that.

“I’m sure we’ll get out of here one way or another,” Y/N said confidently.

“That would be honorable, Y/N,” Loki admitted. He liked her idea.

Almost as on cue, Thor out of all the Asgardians waltzed down the guarded corridors. Loki rolled his eyes from annoyance as he recognized his brother, but he didn’t get up. Loki had put up an illusion of himself so no one else could see him like this, with messy hair and tearstained cheeks. Whoever was outside their cell saw him well-groomed and fine. He made illusion Y/N sleep on her bed. They were perfectly hidden behind his magic.

Seeing Thor seemed to annoy Loki a lot. “damn,” the prince murmured quietly. That word was so alien from his mouth, but Y/N undrestood why he chose that now.

The two of them watched in silence as Loki’s illusion walked to up Thor, “Thor. After all this time and now you come to visit me. Why? Have you come to gloat? To mock?”

Thor seemed to be affected by his mother’s death too. He wasn’t as jolly as he used to be. In fact, there was a cold look on his face that Y/N hadn’t seen many times before. It was clear that Thor wasn’t in the mood for games nor did he seem to believe Loki was actually that fine.

“Loki enough, no more illusions.”

Despite how fool proof Loki’s illusions were, Thor wasn’t that dumb. Anyone who knew Loki would know that Frigga’s death would take a huge toll on him. Even Thor.

The god of mischief was too tired to keep up his illusions. He wanted to be done with whatever it was Thor was doing, so he lifted his magic, revealing himself and Y/N who was sitting on the floor with him. He sat up straight so Thor wouldn’t have to witness him snuggling against the woman who was supposed to be his enemy. Loki’s sad gaze was now mixed with anger. To say he was happy to see Thor would’ve been a lie.

“Now you see me, brother.”

Y/N didn’t want to say anything. This was clearly between them, so instead, she sat next to Loki and listened. Subconsciously, her hand still held onto Loki’s shoulder and her fingers traced tiny circles over his shirt.

Thor looked at the two of them through narrowed eyes and then he faced Y/N. The god of thunder had not expected to see them like this, so close to each other. They looked incredibly comfortable in each other’s presence. Thor's friend was now huddled up against his brother, which was definitely a sight to remember.

After a brief silence, Loki decided to speak up, “Did she suffer?”

His question made Y/N’s heart ache a little bit. Of course, Loki would want to know everything that happened. It was only natural.

“I did not come here to share our grief,” Thor started. Asshole, Y/N thought, but kept it to herself. “Instead I offer you the chance of a far richer sacrament,” Thor continued with a hint of mystery in his voice. Y/N and Loki were both curious to find out what Thor had in mind. For him to come to Loki must’ve meant it was serious.

“Go on,” Loki encouraged him and then looked at Y/N. They didn’t have to say a word to let each other know they were both interested to hear him out.

Thor felt uncomfortable, but it looked like he had no other choice but to do this. “I know you seek vengeance as much as I do. You help me escape Asgard and I will grant it to you Vengeance and afterward, this cell. You too, Y/N. We could use all the help we can get,” Thor revealed his reasoning behind his visit.

We? So he wasn’t working on this all by himself, which made the case even more interesting than it was before.

Y/N was shocked to hear that. Was Thor, the golden prince, the goody-two-shoes prince going to commit treason? It was almost too good to be true. Y/N and Loki were both surprised and they both knew that the moment they got out of that cell; they would never return.

Yes, Loki was struck by grief, but this opportunity was like music to his ears. He couldn’t hold back a mocking smile as he spoke, “You must be truly desperate to come to me for help.” He found it ironic that the man who put him in this cell was now going to break him out of it. Seeing Thor so desperate was a little amusing, which Loki had to admit.

Turns out Y/N was right, they were getting out of that cell, much sooner than they had expected.

Author’s Note: I hope you liked it! Your feedback would mean the world to me 💚💚💚

[candlelitsoul]

They say that time heals all wounds, but is this true for injustice? Can it make right what was put wrong so long ago, and an understanding be reached where it doesn’t feel so horrible? Or is that just a dream, and it will forever be in the hearts of the people? Many will think I’m talking of recent events, or even something personal, but in this instance, I speak of something that happened 485 years ago, in a time where superstition could be your undoing, and public opinion could greatly convict or set someone free. One could argue that it still happens, but with evidence, people can be acquitted and go on living. In this time, there was no such thing, and anything as small as a whisper could lead you to walking a line to your death. Anne Boleyn was a woman like any other; living in an age of change and politics, under the boot of men who were seen as set above them all, trying to gain a life for herself where she could be happy, and caught up in the great game that was life at court. She grew up in France, what was supposedly a place you wanted to see before you died. A lady’s maid who was reported to be beautiful and graceful. The things she would have seen would have helped to shape her character, and when she returned to England, it was into a world she may or may not have wanted. Her sister was mistress to the King, and her family had everything to play for, but when those eyes strayed to her, it was the beginning of the end. It didn’t matter if she didn’t want it, if her family said no. Like anyone in a position of power, she would have had to go with King Henry VIII wanted, and there was nowhere for her to hide. She was queen for only a thousand plus days, trying to give Henry the son he wanted, and knowing that when she couldn’t, his gaze would turn. By this time, it was too late to go back. He used the power of whispers to take her down, and she was beheaded publicly for something that wasn’t true. Some would say that we don’t know what exactly happened then; that yes, she did have many affairs, that she slept with her brother, that she was a murderer, a witch, etc, but how often we hear these things in this day and age, and it turns out to be nothing more than spiteful words from someone who hates us? Anne had many enemies by the time she was imprisoned in Beauchamp Tower, and they played a major part in her destruction. However, I don’t think that a woman who didn’t want the throne, was thrust into it, and came to covet it, would do anything to jeopardize her position, especially when the king realized his full power, and sent his closest friend to his death.  I recently rewatched the scene in Tudors where Anne Boleyn (played by Natalie Dormer) is standing before everyone on the day she dies, and gives a beautiful speech. It was heart wrenching to know her struggle, and what she tried to achieve. To know that the man who wanted her deeply was going to marry another, and that her name would forever be stricken down. Her own words, “ nd if any person will meddle of my cause, I require them to judge the best”, show that she knew wanted it known that she was innocent.  All these years later, we can look back and see where it all went wrong; dates and times don’t match up, neither do locations of supposed lovers, rendezvous, or actions, but then, it didn’t matter what was presented. That’s the rub of it all; would it even have mattered? Knowing what we know now, would he have given her life in a nunnery, or away from court in one of her family homes? After all, Catherine of Aragon was allowed to live, but then it all boils down to the same; he wanted a new wife, knew what he would have to do to get one, and his own mind was so turned by new friends and policies of his making, that he had nowhere to go.  After this time, I don’t feel like the wound will heal. She has so many people that love her, and family that still visits her grave on the anniversary. Though her own daughter never had children, her sister did, and those are the ones who keep her memory alive. There are groups on Facebook dedicated to her, and love pours in from around the world. I own my own B for Boleyn necklace and will wear it to honor a life that was unfairly taken, yet my heart will remain heavy for her and those that went before. Justice, it seems, will never be had, but in the hearts of the people, she is forever freed from suspicion and slander. 

[devnicolee]

The Chosen Ones (2)

A/N: I hate how long it has taken me to write anything new! But I am really excited about this series (hope y’all still are) so I am going to keep writing it. This definitely classifies as a slow burn FYI. But the timeline for the story is short. Hope you enjoy it! 

Word Count: 10,603

The soft clicks of Asha’s sandals filled the silent halls of the palace as she walked toward her brother's office. Her early morning summons left a sour taste in her mouth and a disgruntled look on her face at having to get up even earlier than she needed to for their meeting with Lord M’Baku; but she begrudgingly obliged her brother’s request. Dark clouds stole the natural light that would have usually provided the corridors with a warm glow causing the journey to fill more ominous than usual. She didn't understand what it was, her inability to shake this anxiety she felt since Killmonger. She knew it was just her. The rest of the country and palace seemed to return to business as usual since T'Challa reclaimed his throne. She, however, felt like everything around her was changing. And that was perhaps because, thanks to her siblings, it was.

Though her life amounted to little more than an imprisonment, Asha had grown used to her simple, peaceful and quiet life cooped up in her room, the palace gardens or the library. A life as peaceful, quiet and mundane as the constraints of royalty would allow it to be, of course. She had little desire to change that and potentially destroy her family in the process. But now it seemed as though everyone else had other plans for her future, plans to make it the opposite of mundane, quiet, and ordinary.

Has the power of King gone to his head?

She wondered as she navigated the nonstop demands he lobbed at her as of late. It seemed as if, in addition to the powers of the Black Panther, T'Challa had another superpower: the ability to know when Asha had more than five minutes of alone time. She could not retreat to her bedroom for long before he was calling her to review treaties and paperwork, go over official requests from the Council or citizens as part of her new role as "political adviser to the King." She didn't understand why he was going to such lengths for a fake position, something that she knew only existed to make her feel valued and included.

Her smile brightened when she turned the corner to see Okoye outside of T'Challa's office. 

"Good morning, General."

"My princess," Okoye nodded and saluted her before her body relaxed out of its usual rigid stance and a small but clear smile fell on her features. "He is expecting you."

"Thank you," Asha smiled. "Oh wait, I need to check with Nakia but you are still free for girl’s night after the state dinner, yes?" 

Asha laughed lightly at Okoye’s look of disgust at the phrase "girl’s night." But it had become their tradition over the years, the group would get together after official events and parties to update Asha on the night's events, any new gossip and drama. She knew Okoye found the name and custom somewhat childish but she was a constant at the gatherings nonetheless.

"Of course, I'll be there."

"Perfect, have a good day, Okoye," she said before opening her brother’s office door. 

Asha truly valued the relaxed and loving relationship she shared with Okoye. She was cold to almost everyone except the Royal Trio but she always seemed to have an especially soft spot for Asha. Asha was blessed to have big sisters in her and Nakia, people outside of the Golden Tribe to turn to when the solitude transformed from sanctuary to prison.

Her brother’s back was turned to her as she approached his desk.

"If your idea of being king is just dragging me out of bed then perhaps we should have left Killmonger in charge?"

He turned to offer her an eye roll and a playful glare.

"Too soon sister... too soon. My wounds have barely healed."

She lifted her hand in surrender before starting to sit down in the chair across from him.

"No, don't sit! We are not staying, I have something to show you." 

He ushered her back out of the door and into the hallway.

The journey was quick, literally two doors down the hall to an office near his.

"The reason for this early morning meeting is to show you this," he said as he opened the door to a spare office. 

Asha smiled at the childlike enthusiasm and excitement in his eyes. And so, she tried her best to hide her confusion when she looked around at the decorated office. It was beautiful, clearly he put a lot of effort into its decoration: the red and gold decor and gold-trimmed office furniture. But still, Asha did not understand why she needed to be there for this.

"This is nice! Will this be Nakia’s office?" She asked as she looked around the room, highlighting the only logical purpose for using the space. "Shouldn’t you have decorated it green though? For the River Tribe? Though it is the thought that counts I suppose. But next time, ask for my advice earlier."

The office was beautiful, yes, but certainly not Nakia’s style.

T’Challa let out an exasperated laugh, "You are one of the smartest people in this family and are still the most clueless. This is not Nakia’s office, it is yours. Your favorite color, paintings of your favorite place in Wakanda and by your favorite artist, pictures of us and Shuri, views of the gardens, your favorite flowers on the table?" he listed, finally drawing her attention to all the things that would make this office for her and not her brother’s girlfriend.

"Wait what? I mean it is thoughtful and beautiful but why do I need an office?" she asked bewildered as she examined the space more closely, finding even more personal touches. 

There was a fireplace, which was not actually needed anywhere else in the palace. Little golden panther and rhinos found their home on the fireplace’s mantle. She even spied a picture of T’Challa and W’Kabi next to a few of the border rhinos, her favorite animal since a young age, on a side table.

"Yes, you have a real job now. You are cementing your place in the tribe. And as liaison with the Jabari and political adviser to the King, you need a real space to work. It requires an office. Shuri and I worked on it for the last few days, everything is reinforced with vibranium to make them fire-resistant by the way."

She snorted, "'Political adviser to the king?' The title and position you made up to make me feel included and important?"

"Every ruler has advisers, Asha. It is a new position, yes. But one with very real work to utilize your genius. You spent half your life cooped up in the library reading books. You know so much more than Shuri or I about our history, our allies and our enemies. You have a far better mind for politics than I… or baba, I imagine. A good king utilizes the people who know the things he does not. And so, as an adviser, I expect to see you in this office every day, understand?"

Asha rolled her eyes. First her father forced her into isolation and now her siblings were forcing her out of it. 

Why is no one content with simply leaving me alone?

"Yes, my king," she answered.

"Perfect. This is a good thing, Asha, I promise. Besides, I also want you to help me figure out how to undo the damage father has done, help me with a project... change public opinions ab-"

He was unable to finish when Alexis poked her head in. 

"Apologies my king and princess but Hasani is here to see you. He has been looking for you."

Asha's heart immediately sank, she lacked the will and energy to deal with her intended. However, she knew him well enough to know that it would invite further troubles to turn him away. 

"Yes, please send him in. Thank you."

She went to the small mirror and quickly checked over herself and her outfit, refusing to give him any reason to criticize something about her today. 

"Be nice, T'Challa," she whispered as she fixed the high pony her braids were in. She chuckled lightly at the look of pure disgust coloring her usually mild-tempered brother's face. "I will settle for a lack of open hostility then," she muttered after acknowledging his inaudible no.

Hasani wasted little time before barging into her office. He was aesthetically gorgeous, the epitome of the American adage: tall, dark and handsome. His face was pulled into a permanent scowl but he knew how to turn on the charm and pull out his award-winning smile when required. Aside from T'Challa, he was considered one of the most eligible bachelors in Wakanda. Women in the Merchant Tribe were in an Olympic-style race to gain his affections, to be the last one standing. His courtship with the Princess? A mere hurdle to jump over for many. Their relationship did little to curtail the women vying for his affection, nor had it stopped Hasani from accepting their advances.

"T'Challa," he greeted, not bothering to address his king by his proper title or salute. 

If looks could kill, the young man's soul would have been halfway to meet Bast in person. However, her brother quickly recovered and maintained his cool, understanding that Hasani wanted a rise out of him.

Hasani knew the two siblings in the Golden Trio despised him. But it was clear to all parties involved that he did not care. 

"Asha," he greeted her shortly. "I would like to speak alone."

"Uh, yes... of course. Brother, could we get a few moments alone?"

T'Challa nodded, "Yes, we have a meeting in 10 minutes in preparation for your trip and meetings with Lord M'Baku. Shuri has sent everything you need to get started to your tablet and beads." 

The hug he bestowed was quick and the head nod in Hasani's direction barely noticeable as he made his exit. Asha was thankful to him and Bast for the out her brother just gave her. She only had to suffer for 10 minutes before she had an excuse to get him out of her office.

"Lord M'Baku?" Hasani asked disgusted. "Why on Earth would you have a meeting with him?"

Asha sat down on the edge of her desk, "I am surprised your mother did not mention it. He is a member of the Council now and he and the King tasked me with serving as a liaison to the Jabari as they integrate into Wakanda."

"I don’t know why those savages would want to join nor why T’Challa would let them."

Asha’s face pulled up in frustration at his bias toward the Jabari. "They are not savages. Living differently and valuing different things does not mean they are less Wakandan. And that is the point of these meetings, to lea-."

"Very well. Just ensure it does not interfere with our engagement announcement. My mother has spent a great deal of time coming up with a plan," he interrupted her, seemingly bored by and uninterested in her new project and job.

Asha went back and forth mentally on whether it was worth it to inquire about this plan. She knew she needed to know the details, despite not being consulted on it in the first place. But she did not want to prolong this or spend anymore time with Hasani than she needed to prior to their marriage. She always thought that arranged marriages were primitive. For a country as advanced as Wakanda, she could not fathom why her father would essentially give her away when she was too young to choose or consent herself. And now she would never get an answer. Though she supposed she would be ungrateful to complain, she would not find someone to marry and love on her own, not in these circumstances. But she knew she was not signing up for eventual love and potential happiness. These were things a marriage to Hasani could never bring her.

To her father's credit, he pushed off their official courtship as long as he could, citing her "illnesses" and poor health. She knew it had far more to do with maintaining his lies than her happiness. But she wasn't complain. However, months earlier, Elder Shani demanded he stop pushing and her freedom ceased.

The early days of their courtship were complicated, proof that the web of lies her father had weaved was not sustainable. Everyone else knew it, that the web would unravel eventually... everyone except him. Elder Shani was never shy in spreading her doubt that nothing was physically wrong with the young princess, that her isolation or the delay of their marriage was due to something entirely different. She certainly wasn’t the only person across the country who conjured conspiracy theories as to what was actually wrong with her, being a mutant was at the top of the list. She was surprised that the charade lasted as long as it did. But she guessed the palace staff who knew the truth also knew that her father was not a ruler to be trifled with. Underneath his kind disposition, there was certainly a figurative fire and ruthlessness that most people knew to avoid.

Their initial dates and visits were brief and supervised but still pleasant. She enjoyed his company, was taken by his thoughtfulness and empathy. He seemed perfect initially.

However, after a small argument about her not wanting to go on a date outside the palace walls, Hasani confirmed his mother’s suspicions that his future wife was not sick at all. She was a mutant.

Asha hoped his mother would call off the engagement, she hated mutants after all. But instead, she realized that, for some, greed and power were far more motivating than hate. Shani promised to maintain her secret in exchange for more influence and power on the Council and the position of Commander of the Wakandan military forces for her son. 

It took little time for Asha to realize that any hope that the pair could be happy together was gone, that he inherited his mother's bias toward people like her. Now, of course, she saw the red flags as if they were waving in a sea of white... no longer obscured or hidden. His controlling nature, his abuse, his philandering ways. 

He made it abundantly clear that he would never love her, protect her, or affirm her as a husband should. That was devastating to her at first but like she had done countless times before, she quickly accepted her fate. No amount of prayers or tears would get her out of this one. The chains of her obligations were tight and heavy, restricting her in a dark cell with no hope of escape. She wanted to hate him, cast him as the villain in all this. And in some ways, he was. But he was just as burdened by chains as she was, both pawns in their parents’ quests to gain or maintain their grips on power. Every time she saw him, that was all she saw: them chained too far apart to be any comfort to the other in that dark room for the rest of their lives.

"Was anyone going to inform me of this plan?

"I am informing you now," he answered coolly. "First, I will be your date to the Caanan state dinner this weekend. You will attend my mother's birthday party the week after the announcement, you will accompany on tours of the Merchant Tribe's provinces so the people can meet you."

"I-I was not planning on attending the dinner on Satur-"

"I was not asking," he snapped. "We are going. I need to begin meeting with heads of state. I trust you have something decent to wear? I can't have you looking like this on my arm. You should work out with the Dora before the festival, lose a few pounds."

And there it is. 

Asha knew it was coming, the harsh criticisms and snipes. Every conversation was filled with them. It never mattered what it was: her powers, her appearance, her intellect. Every conversation was a battle and since she was unable to use her only weapon, she always walked away with the wounds and bruises.

"I did not realize I needed to lose weight," she mumbled, looking down at her body. She tried not to let his words bother her, after all this was pretty commonplace at this point in their relationship. She could feel the panther beating against her cage, baring her teeth, body filled with the desire to attack the person hurting her owner. But she thanked Bast that the bars around the monster were thick. Killing her intended would not help her case much.

"Well, you do. And I assume you will wear those to ensure there are no issues at any of these events? Do not embarrass me."

Her eyes flickered away from his as the threatening tone of her last statement settled in her mind. Physically, there was nothing he could do to hurt her and he knew it. But emotionally, there was all sorts of damage he could cause and he knew that too.

Asha nodded, eyes trained on the ground. "Yes, I will wear them. As I always do."

"Good, I cannot have you revealing your illness to the entire tribe and dragging my name into the gutter with you."

"Yes, I understand. Is that all, Hasani?" she asked quietly, desperate to get him out of her office, to be alone.

"Yes. I will see you on Saturday. Do not be late."

He got up without saying goodbye and stalked out of her office. Tears stung the back of her eyes as his words oscillated through her head. She lifted her eyes to the ceiling, refusing to let any fall for him.

Useless… an embarrassment.

She shook her head, not wanting to contemplate all the times she heard those words before or fall down the rabbit hole of painful memories. She took a few deep breaths, trying to bring her emotions back to neutral. She didn't want T'Challa to see her like this, give him any more reasons to hate Hasani.

Once she felt more in control of the beast within, she gathered her tablet and walked across the hall to her brother's office. She had a trip to prepare for and time wouldn’t wait for her to get it together.

***

Tuesday arrived faster than Asha anticipated and now instead of being cooped up in her library, she was zooming through the mountains toward Jabariland. This is a far more enjoyable way to travel here, she thought to herself, thinking back on her first journey there on foot. She enjoyed the views as Ayo flew them toward the Great Lodge. Immediately, Asha thought to the times Baba was out of the country and T'Challa and Shuri would take her out in the Royal Talon. They would fly around and just marvel at the beautiful landscapes of Wakanda: the rainforest, the rushing waterfalls, the vast sun-kissed fields, the snow-capped mountains. Every trip, they found a new hidden gem, a spot secluded enough for Asha to see but for no one to see her, the rare opportunity to experience the country she called home. 

The mountains were the one spot they couldn't venture too far into so now was her chance. She did wish Shuri and T'Challa were there with her. There first trip here was rushed and emotional, there was little time to soak in the sights. But selfishly, she liked that there would finally be a place in Wakanda she could truly experience first. She looked out the Talon windows at the forests to see a fresh blanket of undisturbed snow covering every tree.

"We are here, your highness," Ayo called from her position in the cockpit. 

Asha tore her eyes from the forest to her left as the plane settled on a small cliff. She nodded, a wave of nausea washed over her. Her anxiety settled in her stomach like a small ball as the end of their journey arrived. She was surprised at how quickly the ride transitioned from peaceful to nerve wrecking due to one simple sentence. Now instead of venturing farther into this winter paradise, she just wanted to turn around and scurry back to the comfort of her palace. The stakes were unbearably high for her... her first official task representing the Golden Tribe. She couldn't mess it up.

"Thank you, Ayo. See you in a few days." 

She motioned for Alexis to follow her down the ramp into the snow-covered cliff. The familiar smell of ash immediately invaded her senses and the cold air hit her hard initially as she stepped off the ramp. Her body quickly jump started its own heating system, her flames brewing beneath the surface causing the frigid cold to become pleasant within seconds. She felt bad disrupting the soft snow, hearing the soft crunch beneath her feet as they approached a small group of Jabari waiting for them. She regarded the young man at the head of the pack with great interest, controlling her facial expression to hide her disappointment that a certain someone was not a part of her welcoming party. She shouldn’t be surprised though given the coldness she experienced from him in their meeting earlier that week.

"Good afternoon your highness. Welcome to Jabariland. My name is N'Danna, I am Lord M'Baku's personal adviser. He regrets that he was unable to retrieve you himself, he is tied up in meetings this evening. However, he will see you in the morning for breakfast. One of our guards, Kide," he motioned behind him as a stone-faced young man stepped forward, "will be escorting you during your stay. Anything you need at all, please let him know. This way, your highness."

Asha nodded, "Thank you!" 

She offered him a soft smile before following behind him. Daylight was starting to fade, giving way to the soft yellows and oranges of sunset before the darkness of nightfall. She glanced off to her right and off the cliff her ship landed on. She could see the edge of the village below them and the wooden profile of a larger-than-life statue of Hanuman that held the Great Lodge up on the side of the mountain. She stood for a few minutes, just admiring the sunset over the mountains. Sunsets in Wakanda were unlike anything in the world, she knew they would be equally as breathtaking here.

"This way, your highness," he called again as he walked toward the glass door on the side of the Lodge. Despite her longing, she quickly fell into a step behind him. "Don’t worry, Princess Asha. We have sunsets everyday here, I will make sure we carve out time to see it. They are truly breathtaking."

Asha blushed slightly, her adoration for the view must have been evident to everyone. 

"Thank you, I would appreciate that. We are just very excited to be here," she called after him.

"We are excited to have you. And we will have extra blankets brought to Alexis's room. The cold does take some adjusting."

She glanced at Alexis to see that the woman was indeed shivering, despite being wrapped tightly in a border tribe blanket. Asha nodded and thanked him before silence fell over the group again.

N’Danna briskly walked them to their rooms in the palace, only stopping once when Asha slowed down to see the gardens in the center of the Lodge. She made a mental note to find a spare moment to visit the gardens.

"You should meet the royal gardener as well. I believe you would like him," N’Danna called over his shoulder as he resumed his trek toward the residential wing of the Lodge.

"Here we are. You can go to the dining room for dinner if you choose. However, we are sure you both are tired so we completely understand if you would like it delivered to your room instead. Just let Kide know what you wish to order. Again, anything you should need, do not hesitate to ask."

"Thank you N'Danna." 

They shared salutes before Alexis and Asha retreated to their respective rooms.

Her room was slightly larger than her accommodations the first time around. The bed was certainly inviting, covered with soft black fur blankets. The fire was always lit across the room, not that she needed it. There were gorilla statues across the room and a small one of a panther, which she guessed was added to make them feel at home.

Asha stared at the bed longingly. All she wanted to do was wrap herself in those soft furs, but she remembered the mountain of readings she still needed to complete to be fully prepared for tomorrow. She, instead, settled on the small couch in front of the fire and set to work, refusing to embarrass her brother or herself.

Her stomach growled slightly, making her consider going down to dinner. She wanted to have it delivered to her room but she knew she wouldn't get to see him if she stayed cooped up in her room all night. She couldn't deny the tinge of disappointment that he did not greet her when she arrived. She was sure he had better things to do but she wanted to see him. She hoped he was warmer today than he was the last time they spoke.

Wishful thinking, she thought to herself before redirecting her energy to the work in front of her, shaking her head slightly. She needed to push out all the distractions, immerse herself in her job, that was the only way she would be able to ignore these feelings... the only way to ignore him.

***

"It was rather rude of you not to welcome our guest earlier," N'Danna remarked as he glanced up from the pile of paperwork in front of him.

"I was busy, a day full of meetings," M'Baku responded casually, not taking his eyes off the paper in front of him.

"As yes, your riveting meeting with my father so you could listen to his many complaints about your leadership style... a meeting you had been putting off for a week but mysteriously added to your schedule just this morning. I know you just could not postpone that any further. That, coupled with your coldness on the phone calls with her over the last two weeks... you should be nicer to her, M'Baku. She was quite disappointed that you were not there."

M'Baku rolled his eyes, frustrated by his best friend and adviser’s need to stick his nose and mind every place it did not belong. But his ears did pick up on his last statement. 

She wouldn't have been disappointed if she didn't have feelings for me... right? 

"I was perfectly pleasant to her, despite being a low lander.

"Yes, you were perfectly cold and just shy of being rude to her. But you are right, disappointment does imply feelings and yes, she is quite beautiful," he added slyly at the end.

"I never told you she was beautiful! Stop doing that, my mind is not yours to pick at," he snapped. The corner of N'Danna's lips curled into a slight smile, knowing that his chief's bark held no bite.

"Really? I find that hard to believe given the fact that your mind is just an express train of thoughts about Princess Asha. Everything else is merely a rest stop along the way before you jump back in the conductor's seat. But I understand. Pushing her away to try and stop thinking of her makes sense. It is frustrating."

"You know your psycho-analyzing is not worth much when you are stealing all the information directly from someone’s mind right? I wish you would consider some personal form of policing yourself and those powers of yours. Besides, it doesn't matter what my mind says... she is taken, engaged."

"I cannot turn it off anymore than I can turn off breathing. But I am sorry, I know you don’t like it. Why are you so upset about her engagement if you are not interested in her?"

M’Baku cut his eyes, opting for anger instead of a real conversation with his friend. 

"I can finish the rest of these myself. That is all for this evening N’Danna. Thank you."

N’Danna sighed, "You do not want to talk about it, I understand. But I am the one person you cannot hide from M’Baku, at least not forever. So it would not kill you to actively share every once in a while. Good night."

He nodded as his friend turned and left his office. M’Baku was as annoyed as ever. Two weeks since the Council Meeting, two weeks since he had last laid eyes on her and the tug he had for her had yet to diminish, despite his extensive efforts. He only spoke with her over the phone to avoid looking at her, he was cold toward her during those conversations, he invited a different Jabari woman to his bed almost every night, he refused to welcome her when she landed. So much hard work and thought into the simple act of dampening his feelings toward her. And yet, it was as if the moment her soul entered his home, all his hard work flew out the window as fast as the Talon left Jabariland. He didn't need to physically see her or be in the same room to know she was present and desire nothing else but to be around her. No amount of dispassionate sex, coldness or time seemed to change that.

You can't have her... and even if she was not engaged. You don't deserve her. Why would she want to be with someone ordinary? His subconscious whispered to him. 

He sighed deeply. Why would she want to be with someone like him? There was nothing special about him... nothing extraordinary. He was perfectly average... a part of the group that was not chosen.

She deserved someone just as extraordinary as she was. Someone who understood her gift. And that was not him. He had learned a long time ago how to live with things he cannot change, and accept disappointments. He could do it now too. He did not have a choice.

He shook his head before burying it back in his work. This was the only thing that would help him move on and forget about her.

****

Early evening transitioned into night as Asha worked, checking, double-checking and triple checking the working treaty and paperwork T'Challa sent with her to iron out. She wanted to be able to answer any question he could throw at her, defend any clause or identify a solid solution. She knew that level of attention and detail would show the Jabari that the Golden Tribe cared, that they could offer ideas and then adjust to their way of life. By the time midnight fell, Asha finally felt prepared enough to rest.

Asha knew she could just absorb the fire in the hearth in front of her and have enough energy to not sleep for days but she didn't want to be up staring out the window all night. She watched the snow fall for a bit before deciding that she was too anxious to rest anyways. She paced, contemplated solutions before she realized that staying in this room would not cure her anxiety but a late-night visit to the library could. She pulled on her shoes and a light sweater and crept out of her room.

After wandering around for a bit, she realized she had no idea where she was heading. She was hoping to easily find her way back to the library but she seemed to be just walking aimlessly. She was so in her head that she did not hear footsteps approaching until they were directly behind her.

"Your highness?"

"Oh my Bast!" she yelped, turning around quickly to find N’Danna standing behind her. 

She clutched her chest as she tried to right herself, slightly embarrassed for being so easily shaken in front of a high ranking member of the tribe and a few soldiers.

"I am sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I was just heading home for the evening and thought I heard someone." he offered. 

She was slightly surprised at the warm reception she was getting, the lack of confusion over her ambling around their palace at night. He didn’t seem confused or annoyed by it. Instead, he just eyed her with gentleness and curiosity.

"No, no. Please do not apologize. I should be apologizing, wandering around at night. It was rude of me. I was just hoping to find th-"

"The library?" he finished for her. 

She blinked a few times at him, confused as to how he would know that. 

"I am happy to show you before I leave. I was just finishing up some work with Lord M’Baku in his office." He motioned for her to follow him down the hall.

"He always works this late?" she asked curiously, wondering why he was not asleep at an hour like this. 

Well he was not asleep the first night you met him either. A night owl, she thought to herself.

"Yes, our chief has always been a bit of a night owl. But there is so much behind the scenes work to rejoining Wakanda as you will see during this trip, treaties and such to draft, negotiate, etc. More than just attending a council meeting every month. So, he has been quite busy since the initial meeting. Likely why he asked for your help, we certainly need it."

It doesn’t seem like it, she thought to herself.

N’Danna laughed, seemingly at nothing. "I know, I know. It does not seem like it given his attitude. But you must excuse him. He can be rough and cold around the edges to outsiders, er… well Jabari outsiders. He is just protective of the tribe."

"Understandable. Well, I am happy to be here… excited to be here, truly. I do not want anyone to think I am coming here to change the Jabari. I am just here to serve in whatever capacity he and T’Challa need," she offered politely, choosing to ignore how the man managed to seemingly read her thoughts again.

N’Danna smiled, "We appreciate such willing-"

A door to their left swung open as Lord M’Baku stuck his head out of a door. 

"N’Danna? Did you forget some-" his words faltered and he fell silent as his gaze shifted to Asha. 

There was a pregnant pause as the trio simply stared at each other. Or rather, Asha and M’Baku stared at each other while N’Danna’s eyes bounced playfully between the pair like he was intently watching a riveting tennis match. A small knowing smile graced his face and he swayed slightly on his heels with anticipation, waiting for one of them to say something and seemingly enjoying their growing distress.

"No, I ran into the Princess as she was trying to find the library, I was just taking her that way," he answered, ending their misery.

M’Baku’s eyes narrowed, words returning to his voice and a knowing expression filling them. 

"But the library is in the opposite direction? Did you forget where it was?" 

N’Danna was not slick, M’Baku knew exactly what he was doing and he was not amused.

"Yes, I thought she would enjoy the scenic route," he answered casually, unbothered by the death glare he was receiving from his best friend and chief.

"The scenic route?" M'Baku repeated. 

That leads her right by my office? He added in his head, knowing his best friend would hear it.

"The scenic route," N'Danna affirmed quietly, choosing to ignore the mental earful he was getting from his chief. "But it seems she is now in far more capable hands than I. Lord M’baku was just considering having a nightcap before retiring for the evening. Perhaps you can join him so he doesn't have to drink alone? You wanted to try Jabari rum yes? M’Baku has the best in his office."

Asha stared between the ground and M’Baku, torn between wanting to say yes and spend time with him and wanting to escape back to her room. 

"Uhhh yes… if you are free. But if not, I will just find my way back to my room."

"No!" he almost shouted at her, his annoyance at N’Danna dissipating at the thought of spending time alone with her. 

He knew it was pointless, what was the point in spending time with a woman pledge to marry someone else? He was dedicated to his mission to be as cold as he could but it was clear that was doomed from the start. His yearning for her only seemed to magnify, not shrink. He had not thought of anyone else but her all evening. He just wanted to be around her, learn about her, and soak up everything there was to know about her. It was selfish, he knew that. But he didn’t particularly care. 

"I would love some company and he is right, I do have the best rum in the mountains."

"That is an offer I cannot refuse. Thank you N’Danna," Asha said, smiling at him. 

He nodded with a smile, saluting M’Baku before briskly walking back in the direction he came. Asha stared at his back for a few minutes, trying to figure out what struck her about him… something odd. Not dangerous, just odd… it was as if he knew everything.

She walked into M’Baku’s office and immediately took in the smell. It smelled like him, which made a sigh of contentment almost escape her lips.

"Have a seat, please," he offered, motioning to the chair on the other side of his desk. "Apologies for my adviser. He has a knack for sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong."

He turned away from her, pouring her a glass and handing it to her.

"No need to apologize. He is very sweet... and helpful. He seems to know what I need before I even ask it," she laughed lightly.

"Yes, he... um... he has a certain knack for that I suppose. Well, let us raise a glass to new partnerships and new beginnings," he offered as he prompted her to raise her glass.

"To new partnerships and beginnings," she repeated before their glasses clinked and she took a sip.

"Many new beginnings for you. Are you excited for your engagement?" he asked. Asha paused before answering, detecting the thinly veiled bitterness in his tone.

"Uhh… yes, I suppose. Hasani is a good man, and will be leader of the Merchant Tribe. It is a good match."

"'You suppose...' 'It is a good match,'" M'baku repeated back to her. "Not necessarily what one would want to hear before getting engaged. What about love?"

"It is an arranged marriage… we do not love each other," she scoffed quickly. 

Her eyes clamped shut immediately as she realized what she said. It was highly inappropriate to disparage her intended to another member of the Council. But there was some small part of her, a part she did not particularly understand, that needed him to know that this was not her choice, that she was a prisoner in all this.

"I-I am sorry, I should not speak like that to you as a member of the Council. Hasani is a great person. I pray Bast blesses us with a happy and prosperous life together."

Asha looked him in his eyes as she spoke and that made it so much harder. There was something in them that begged her to be vulnerable, to be honest, that pleaded with her to fall into the sea of him. And she wanted to... Bast she wanted to. But that was the issue with falling, the high of it was beautiful, thrilling. It fills you with inexplicable euphoria. But you never know what awaits you at the bottom: a calm oasis that envelops you in safety and warmth or the rough waves and jagged edges of rocks that end the thrill with deafening pain. Asha had no idea what awaited her at the bottom, in the sea that was Lord M'Baku, and the risks were too high to find out.

M'Baku let out a deep sigh but nodded, respecting her wishes not to be honest. But he saw it: the crack in her ironclad demeanor. He could tell he struck a nerve... the bright smile in her eyes that immediately fell at the mention of her engagement, the quickness of which she corrected him about the reasons behind it, the clearly forced words when she caught herself being too honest. But this girl's walls were high, and he was slowly putting the puzzle pieces of why together. It would take more than a few stolen moments in the dark in a library to break them down.

"No need to apologize, your highness. An arranged marriage though? How primitive. I would think the Golden Tribe would be more progressive. Are T’Challa and Nakia?"

"You would think wouldn’t you? And yes originally but they fell in love on their own, T'Challa encouraged her to become a War Dog... they drifted apart but love eventually helps things drift back together in the end. But things with T'Challa and Nakia were not as complicated."

"Because she is not gifted?"

Asha sighed, putting the glass down before responding, "Yes... it just complicates everything, every interaction and relationship. A nuisance I would not wish on my worst enemy," she muttered, more to herself than him, as she picked up her glass to take another sip. "This is very delicious by the way. Thank you."

He raised his glass in response. "So is that nuisance why you wear those rings?" He gestured down at her hands.

She sighed, "Yes. Without them... without them, I wouldn't be able to control it. I could hurt people, it- I am dangerous."

"You believe you are dangerous?"

She held his gaze for a moment, before it became too overwhelming and she looked back down at the cup of rum in her hand. She tilted the glass back and forth, watching the brown liquid moving around her wooden cup as she stared.

"You don’t?" She asked softly. "I could injure or kill someone without a second thought. You don’t think that makes me dangerous?"

"I think Hanuman doesn’t create weapons… I don’t worship Bast so I cannot speak for her but I would like to think she would not either. The Chosen are here to help elevate, advance or protect the Jabari and Wakanda. Yes, all of their gifts can be used as weapons when needed but that is their choice. Powers only become dangerous when we fail to foster the beauty in it. It seems no one has taken the time to foster the beauty of your gift. Perhaps that is why you feel that way?"

He doesn’t know what he is talking about. He has never seen what you can do. How you can hurt people.

"Perhaps. But very few people are willing to risk their lives for that, especially for us with powers capable of hurting others. Wakanda will never accept mutants, never consider them as anything other than a danger. Tolerate? Avoid open hostility? Maybe… But what you’re talking about? Respect, admiration... That will not happen in my lifetime. I can't even fathom what that would be like."

"Is that why you haven't read that book yet?"

Asha's eyes snapped up to look at her host, surprise coloring her face. 

“How did you know?” 

She didn't get it, how he knew her...saw her so clearly and vividly. She didn't want to admit he was right... that book that she had opened several times, read a few pages about the reverence the Jabari held for mutants only to close it angrily. The longing for a different life, a different custom too painful to bear.

He chuckled, “It was not that big of a leap to be honest. I figured if you read it, you have questions, want to know more about them. Since you haven’t asked about the Chosen yet, I took a stab in the dark.”

"I-I wanted to read it... I just haven't had the opportunity. I can give it back, I have had it too long, I suppose." 

She avoided his eyes, opting to stare at a portrait of a couple across from her seat. She assumed they were his parents, both shared a striking resemblance to the man before her.

"No... I gave it to you. Keep it, until the opportunity arises." She nodded, refusing to catch his eye.

They sat in silence for a few moments, M'Baku staring a hole into her side of her face as she actively avoided his gaze. 

"Well, thank you for the drink Lord M'Baku but I think I should retire for the evening. It is getting late."

"O-of course. Amari will show you back to your room." He quickly stood up and ushered her toward the door. They saluted each other before she turned to walk down the hall behind his personal guard.

"Princess Asha!"

She heard her name behind her causing her to turn around. She was secretly thankful, unready to say goodbye to him just yet. She turned around quickly, facing him again. 

"I go on a morning walk every day. W-w-would you like to join me?" he stammered slightly, his nerves getting the best of him.

She smiled softly, having to bite down the immediate yes that almost fell from her lips. She knew it likely was not a good idea, spending more time with him would not help her. But simultaneously, she desired to be around someone who thought so highly of her.

"Y-yes, Lord M’Baku. I would like that very much."

He nodded before sliding back into the door frame of his office. "Good. Goodnight, your highness."

They saluted each other before she turned back down the hall with his guard leading the way, a bright small on her face as she went.

****

Asha tossed and turned throughout the night. She didn’t mind the lack of sleep except that the nights dragged on without it. She instead spent most of the night replaying her conversation with M’Baku in her head. She wished she could go back and relive it over and over again. She checked her beads every ten minutes it seemed to see if they were any closer to their morning date.

It’s not a date! She screamed at herself. Engaged princesses can’t go on dates.

Fine, not a date. A friendly walk between acquaintances? Friends. She settled on quickly. That is what they were… friends. It sounded far less appealing than how she truly wanted him. But that was all she could get. He didn’t feel that way about her, and even if he did, she had a fiancee in the way.

She huffed and flopped over in bed, annoyed with the voice of logic in her brain. She stared intently at the ceiling.

The guard told her that Lord M’Baku typically took his walk at sunrise. She waited and waited and waited until the alarm on her kimoyo beads, set to alert her 30 minutes prior to sunrise went off. She felt absurd, the way she nearly catapulted out of bed the moment her alarm rang in the still air once. But thankfully, there was no one around but Bast to witness it.

She threw on her outfit for the walk, a sweater, leggings and snow boots. It was casual but she paired it with some light makeup, like Shuri taught her. She still wanted to look her best.

She pulled half of her braids into a half up, half down style. She pulled her rings back on before examining herself in the mirror.

Asha never considered herself to be beautiful. She wasn’t ugly by far but beautiful? That was Nakia and Okoye… women that men sought after. But today, even she had to admit that she looked good. She adjusted herself in the mirror for one last moment before opening her door to find Kide.

He said nothing, responding to her "good morning" with a polite head nod before heading down the hall. She quickly followed after him, trying to keep up with his brisk pace. Soon, they were at the front of the Lodge. Two guards framed the entrance of the Lodge as Kide led her down the staircase to meet Lord M’Baku.

"Good morning Princess," he said as she approached. 

She replied with the same as she took in his fidgeting hands, the way he moved his weight from one side to the other as he stood, the lack of certainty in his eyes. She wanted to ease his anxiety somehow but how could she when she felt it too? She just was better at hiding it.

They set off down a path to the left of the Lodge. A comfortable silence fell over them as they listened to the rustling in the trees, the early morning calls of birds. They stole glances at each other every few minutes but otherwise, Asha simply enjoyed the walk.

They walked until they reached a small hill overlooking a creek in the forest. It appeared to be a hidden oasis, a picturesque scene plucked straight from a movie.

"This is beautiful," she marveled as they approached the rocks that led to a cliff over the creek.

"I know." 

He motioned toward a few large rocks they could sit on at the top of the hill. He dusted the snow off before she sat down.

“Do you come here often?” She asked as she looked off the hill onto the creek. 

She imagined it looked gorgeous in the summer with lush green grass, full trees and a babbling creek.

“Yes, N’Danna and I found it some time ago. It has been a secret haven for us ever since. He comes more than me though, for the solitude. For when he doesn’t want to hear anymore.”

Asha perked up, eyeing his profile, wondering how much she could probe. 

“Doesn’t want to hear anymore? What does that mean?”

M’Baku smiled slightly, “I am shocked you hadn’t picked up on it by now, as a Chosen yourself. He can read minds… his ‘knack for anticipating your needs.’”

“Ohhhhh.” 

Realization washed over her. She felt stupid really, now every interaction with him made even more sense. She stopped the wave of embarrassment from washing over her as well, refusing to think about what other thoughts he picked up swirling around her head about his chief.

“He wouldn’t bring up anything he heard to you or anyone else, just so you know. But sometimes, constantly hearing is too much for him so this spot helps. For me, it is just peaceful. I know it should be the temple but this is where I come to pray… be one with Hanuman.”

Asha nodded, “When I was young, there was a statue of Bast laying in the Royal Gardens. I used to sit next to her and read or pray and it was the only place in my small world that I thought Bast heard me, actually listened to me.”

M’Baku sensed the sadness in her voice, the tinge of pain in her eyes as she spoke of the past. “‘Used to?’”

“I don’t really pray anymore,” she whispered, pressing her hand into a new patch of snow next to her. M’Baku watched as the snow around her hand immediately melted into a puddle of water, the heat flush under her skin too much to allow it to stay in its solid form. 

“What kind of God curses children as Bast did me? My father used to call it an abomination. It is hard to believe… it is hard to trust in a God who does things like that.” 

“What did your father have against mutants?” 

Asha looked off to the side, her eyes trained on the tree branches weighed heavily with snow. 

“He believed that Bast only ordained one enhanced being in Wakanda… the Black Panther. You are not born with it. By winning the tribal combat, by surviving the visit to the Ancestral Plane… Bast chooses you. Her power, her gift chooses you. You earn it. He took offense to anyone being born with powers he had to earn. It is the opposite of your custom. We were not chosen and so, in his mind, our existence is against her will.” 

“If only you had been born here instead of with the lowlanders. Things would have been different.” 

“Yes, I suppose they would have. But then I wouldn’t have T’Challa and Shuri… Nakia, Okoye and Ayo… Alexis,” she listed. 

M’Baku smiled to himself as he saw her face light up at the list of people she had in her life. It was probably the first genuine smile he had seen on her face when she was talking about home. 

Silence fell over the two as they sat, they watched the sun finish rising high in the sky before M’Baku stood and helped her up. 

“My home life isn’t all tragic and sad, you know?” she said randomly as they found their way back to the trail that would lead them back to the Lodge. “I feel like it may seem that way, given our conversations but there is good there too. My life isn’t overflowing with amazing people, I haven’t really had the opportunity to meet many people honestly. But the people that are there… the love that is there… It is bright, it sustains me through everything. I wish some things were different, it is true. But all of them make my life worth living.”

“I don’t doubt it. I saw your grief, your relief when you saw T’Challa. I imagine there are few siblings with a bond as deep as yours. I don’t mean to judge your life or the lowlanders. I just believe you and people like you deserve more. Which is why I would like to ask you to do something for me as my guest here.” 

“Yes?” 

“I would like you to not wear those rings for the rest of this trip.” 

Her eyes bugged out of her head as his request cycled into her ears and registered in her brain. 

“What? No. No. I am sorry Lord M’Baku but I do not think that is wise. I could lose control… burn your house down, hurt someone. It is too great a risk when I am supposed to be here winning the affections of your people.”   

He laughed, “You think you are so out of sync with your powers that taking those off for a few days would lead to a forest fire? You did not seem to have this many reservations in the library that night? Or was a room full of paper books not as important? You are afraid to truly let your powers show and I understand given the way you were raised. But you are only here for three days… You wish things were different yes? Here they can be. Why spend the next three days hiding when you have to go back to that when you leave? This is the one place in Wakanda that you do not have to hide. Enjoy it.”

His proposition did sound alluring… freedom for more than just a few moments. She was still hesitant though. She hadn’t been without her rings for more than a day or two since she was a teenager. And had she become so accustomed to pretending to be someone else that she forgot how to be herself? She never learned how to effectively use her powers, she didn’t even know the extent of them. Hell, she had no idea she could float, possibly fly, until her breakdown after T’Challa’s death. How many more abilities did she have that she didn’t even know about. Was now, as a guest in someone else’s home the best time to find out? 

What other time or opportunity would you have? You certainly can’t do so at home. He is right, now is the rare moment to be free. 

Her slender fingers fiddled with the delicate rings on the opposite hand as she looked up at him with eyes filled with skepticism. There it was again… that indescribable thing about him that made her want to fall. She could feel it too, every moment she was with him, he pulled her closer and closer to the cliff’s edge. She would pull back and he would be right there tugging her forward again.

He smiled at her, his eyes filled with mischief and delight as her fingers started pulling one ring off after another. Before she knew it, she could feel the tension in her body release, feel the panther slowly ease out of her cage. She took a step back from him as sparks and smoke emanated from her hands. She took a few deep breaths, regulating her body’s response until they stopped. He gave her an encouraging nod as he took a step toward her. It was not tentative or hesitant like people have done in the past. It was deliberate and confident, as if he was determined to let her know that he was not afraid of her. 

“Deal,” she said softly. 

They stared at each other for a few moments before they both noticed soft embers rising between them. She had only seen those once before, with him in the library, and now she wondered if that was her body’s natural response to the affection she felt toward him. 

“U-um, we should head back yes? I don’t want your guard to think I kidnapped their chief,” she chuckled awkwardly. 

He nodded and they set back on their way, their bodies closer together, hands brushing against each other every few steps. Asha anticipated it, longed for that brief physical contact each time. It provided warmth and comfort her body hadn’t experienced in a long time. 

Before she knew it, they were back in the Lodge and standing outside her door. 

“Well this is where I leave you. I will see you in,” he quickly checked his watch for the time,” two hours for our first meeting, your highness?” 

“I will be there,” she answered as she pushed against the heavy wooden door that lead to her room. “Oh Lord M’Baku? I now have a request for you. It is just Asha. No your highness or Princess. Just Asha.” 

A big grin spread across his face as he took in her request. “Ok then, ‘just Asha.” Only if you call me M’Baku.” He held his hand out for her to shake on their new deal. She started to raise her hand before remembering their previous deal and quickly clutched it to her chest. 

“We will work up to that, yes?” He retracted his hand and let it fall back to his side. 

“Yes, please.” 

He nodded, giving her one last longing look before heading down the hallway. 

“M’Baku!” She called after him, unable to let their last private moment for the day pass without saying one final thing. “Thank you,” she said as he turned around to look at her again. 

He offered her another smile and a head nod before turning back around. The thank you required no explanation, he knew what it meant and knew it was unnecessary. He didn’t deserve a thank you for recognizing her humanity. He was just excited to realize that those high walls were coming down brick by brick. He wasn’t sure if he was prepared for what lays behind them but he knew it would be glorious.

@destinio1 @muse-of-mbaku @missmohnique @jellybean531 @afrolatinpami @archivistofwakanda @leahnicole1219 

[apprentice-lex]

Thank you so much! <3 Warnings for blood and injuries. Reactions under the cut. Long post ahead. SFW.

Valerius

Lucio is trying to do what?! The delicate wineglass breaks in the Consul's hand, sharp shards mixing his blood with the dripping wine, but he doesn't notice, doesn't care. This was not part of the deal. Who does Lucio think he is? He tries and fails to control his breathing; it does nothing to dissipate the panic that curls within the Consul's ribcage, burying its claws into his heart. He needs to do something. He needs to do something right now. Even though it was the middle of the night when he got the message about Lucio's mercenaries, hired to capture you like a common criminal, the Consul doesn't waste a moment, and marches immediately to the palace, right to the door of Lucio's bedroom. Valerius is quite a sight - hair escaping his braid, face flushed with anger, his house robe trailing behind him instead of his usually tasteful garments. He bangs his fist against the door; the guards that move to stop him all wither under his venomous gaze. Finally, Lucio opens the door, disheveled and cantankerous from being woken up. Listening to about a half of the Consul's angry tirade, Lucio cuts him off with: "You woke me up for such a a paltry thing?" It takes all the self-restraint that the Consul possesses not to punch the Count in the face, right then and there. Yes, Lucio is a trained fighter and it would likely not end well for Valerius, but the Consul's rage won't listen to reason. He'd do much more, for you. Who cares for a few bruises when your freedom is at stake? However, reminding himself it would do more harm than good, the Consul manages to calm himself, and instead threatens the Count with all the possible consequences he can think of - delays of the Count's parties, confiscated supplies - whatever it takes, until Lucio agrees to call off the pursuit. Valerius returns to his estate still fuming. He got the Count to let you go, but it did nothing to quell his rage or his growing dislike for the Count. He wishes he'd taken the chance to throw that punch instead, consequences be damned.

Valdemar

They pause, close their eyes, take a deep breath, and remind themself that the assistants around them do not deserve their ire. But Lucio... Oh, Lucio. How arrogant the pitiful thing is. How infuriatingly oblivious to his own insignificance. Yes, Valdemar had a deal with him, but they've had countless deals with so many, over the centuries; with nobles and kings and magicians, with wisemen and fools equally. They've been the court physician in kingdoms that had crumbled to dust before the civilization of Vesuvia ever left its cradle. And now, this arrogant, insignificant speck thinks he can imprison someone Valdemar holds dear, against their wishes? Oh, how the Count will rue the day he ever heard their name, or yours. Valdemar puts down their tools - they do not need any for what they are about to do - and heads straight to the throne room, bloodstains on their apron and all. The time has come to review the terms of a deal. Ignoring the guards, they stride right into the throne room, slamming the door shut behind them. What they are about to say is for Lucio's ears alone. When the Count and the Quaestor leave the throne room some minutes later, Lucio is pale and shaking, rudely brushing off the servants' concern. You are immediately set free, and pardoned for anything he might have accused you of in order to have you captured. Valdemar goes back to the dungeons, to continue with their too-long-neglected experiment. Everything is as it should be. All they had to do is explain to Lucio whose heart they will immediately take if you are not set free.

Volta

The moment she hears what the Count is attempting to do, she breaks down in panic. The guests at the dinner table try to look everywhere but at the Procurator's tear-streaked face, trying to maintain a sense of decorum. She doesn't care. She leaves the food half-eaten, leaves the guests behind, and summons her carriage driver - she needs to go to the palace, immediately. It's also the first time that the carriage driver sees the Procurator lash out, urging him to go faster. She barely waits for the carriage to stop, before gathering her skirts and almost running up the palace stairs. She ignores the servants, ignores the chamberlain, ignores everyone who is trying to stop her, heading straight for Nadia's quarters. She interrupts the Countess' meditation - something hardy anyone would ever dare to do - to plead for help, for Nadia's support. She cannot allow Lucio to get away with this. The Procurator hardly makes sense, words flowing from her like a river through a broken dam - she begs and even threatens, promises that she will ask the other courtiers for help should the Countess refuse. The commotion quickly draws an unwelcome audience - Vulgora and Valdemar who both had business in the palace, Vlastomil who was just about to return to his estate and who finds this chaos quite intolerable; even Valerius, who comes to watch the spectacle unfold with a glass of wine in his hand and a disapproving sneer. However, the tiny Procurator's heartfelt, chaotic speech wins them over; Nadia sees it in the eyes of her courtiers. Willing or not, she has little choice but to help, because Volta will certainly never stop trying to find a way to help you, trying to get others to promise their aid. The Countess intervenes, and you are set free - Volta immediately wraps her arms around you; her own knees buckle, but she refuses to let go, which takes the both of you to the floor, and leaves you kneeling in the middle of the palace. She is unashamed of the tears of relief spilling down her cheeks as she covers your face with kisses, promising with every breath that she would never, ever stop trying, that she would never give up on you. The staff politely looks away from this display of raw emotion, but you're certain you see a few clandestine, approving smiles.

  Vlastomil

He is horrified when the news reach him; the rose he had been carefully tending to crumples in his hand. He doesn't care. His mind immediately in overdrive, he all but rips off the gardening gloves and apron, leaving everything scattered around the garden as he rushes to his study. He spends the afternoon, the evening, and nearly the entire night writing letters; promising, threatening, calling in favors, offering favors... slowly but surely turning the court and the nobility against Lucio. Messengers are dispatched, swift and trustworthy, in the night. Many a noble recognizes the Praetor's looping script, even if the letters are signed just "V." Most of them dispose of the letters, burning them; it would do no good to leave proof of that they are about to do, especially if it should fail. But the Praetor's schemes rarely fail...he's had years to build his web of connections. Lucio's invites are declined. Favors refused. Goods for his parties - such as wine and fabrics and luxury spices - withheld. It takes him days to realize he is in the middle of a rebellion. His own nobility turns against him; the palace's opulence dwindles. All the while, Vlastomil himself is the picture of politeness. Warm smiles that never reach his cold, pale eyes. Finally, the Count is invited to dinner at the Praetor's estate. He sees many of the things that were meant for his own table, had the Praetor not turned his suppliers against him. He knows these things are served as a show of power. And he knows about the poisoned blades hidden in the folds of the guests' clothing even before he sees them. He knows that his own swordsmanship would do him no good. Vlastomil bled away his riches, turned his advisors and the nobility against him, and now the only way for the Count to leave this room with his life is to not only free you, but to plead for the Praetor's forgiveness. For taking the one thing that Vlastomil cares for more than anything else. One thing that the Praetor loves. Vlastomil never raised a hand against the Count, he never even raised his voice. But let it never again be doubted that the quill is that much mightier than the sword, a whispered word at the right time more potent than a declaration shouted at the town square. You are released, officially pardoned, offered gold and land for all the troubles you've been put through. As much gold and land as the Count can offer, after the rebellion had bled him dry. Let it never be said that the Praetor doesn't make a formidable enemy. It is a lesson the Count will never forget.

Vulgora

The moment they hear the news, Vulgora makes a beeline for the palace, tossing and smashing everything and anything in their way. The guards who see the approaching Pontifex immediately withdraw inside the gates. To say that the Pontifex had murder written all over their face would be a major understatement. No one before had seen their eyes that exact hue of pale, cold gold - it was beyond rage, mortal anger and mortal bloodlust had nothing on a demon unleashed, and the news of your capture had done just that; what Lucio did unleashed everything Vulgora worked so hard to leash and restrain for your sake. Now, their gauntleted fingers were twitching, searching for the nonexistent throats of their enemies, as the guards inside the gate wiped cold sweat from their brows and tried to swallow their panic. Hearing the news that Lucio had ordered your capture, the Pontifex truly became what they were rumored to be; bloodlust incarnate, an embodiment of rage. They were a one-person army, standing alone at the gates and demanding that Vesuvia hand you over, or they would rip the finely-made gates off their hinges, and paint the halls of the palace crimson in a way that even the red plague did not. But the Pontifex themself was the least of their worries, the guards realize, when the cloud of beetles blots out the sun. They descended upon the palace gardens, leaving bare branches and barren earth in place of the lush, green grass. If you asked the guards after that day, they'd swear that the sky had turned crimson and that the water in the fountain turned to blood... that War had been unleashed, for you. It is unclear what had truly happened. Soldiers so frightened are not to be believed. But even the frightened guards still remember correctly how the last vestiges of color drained from the Count's face when he was summoned, how quickly he'd issued orders for your release. When the tall palace gates opened, still none of the guards dared appear - the sole reason the gates had opened was to let a lone figure out. You walked free - and unafraid - straight into Vulgora's arms. Everyday life in the palace soon resumed - things returned to normal. But no one would soon forget what had happened when you were taken from the Pontifex, and no one would make the same mistake again.

[sometimesrosy]

1: Do you think it’s odd that C fell in love with L after she was not only responsible for Finn’s death, causing C to have to mercy-kill him, but also the reason C was forced to kill all those people in Mt Weather? I’m trying to understand their relationship and how it all worked. Her people were so angry at C for falling for L, but she wasn’t trying to betray them; it was innocent. And she chose her people in the end, right before L was killed. L’s made to be this great love for C. Is she?

(I’m answering your 1 and 2 separately because I think they are separate questions about two separate characters’ experiences with the same narrative element.)

Okay. So I didn’t understand in season 3 what all was going on with that and did a lot of work to understand how Clarke could so easily forgive and love L for what she did and what I came up with is two different interpretations one authorial (the Doylist explanation) and one in narrative (the Watsonian explanation.)

Before I start, no. I don’t think L was made to be this great love for C. I think the fandom fell in love with L for many decent reasons, and picked up on some archetypes in the story as a whole, and the traditional romantic tale of the warrior king and the captive princess, and they just really wanted that story, even deserved that story, so the fandom interpretation made The 100 INTO that story. 

I have rewatched the story looking for that great romance, and while there’s some hints of it, and it’s NOT subtextual (which is possibly why the LGBT community was so happy to get it since they are denied that in most of pop culture) the romance of C and L was for me far, FAR too political in nature for me to find it a great, passionate romance. It was all power games except for the episode with Pauna, if I must be honest. And their love scene, in which L had already sentenced her people to death and Clarke had already decided to go home and it was just two women outside of politics consummating their connection. That part didn’t bother me, it was lovely and a moment of peace. I didn’t love that they didn’t talk about anything important, that they COULDN’T, because for me, intimacy and a great love REQUIRES that kind of openness and honesty, at least for the moment. What I need to see in a romance wasn’t there for me. But I’m sure what other people need to see in a romance WAS. It is quite clear that a large portion of the shipping community LOVEloveLOVES the dynamic of powerful dominating warrior who kidnaps and falls for the warrior princess turned vulnerable maiden (witness the latest craze in Star Wars which is also something I *do not like.*) My distaste for that dynamic does not mean that others are wrong for loving that dynamic. I don’t have to get it. It’s not my preference to reconcile with my life and understanding. It’s theirs. Ship and let ship.

Okay, onto my understanding of what the heck was going on with CL in Polis after L betrayed and harmed her so terribly. The doylist interpretation, why they would write that story and what their intention is, is about themes and symbolism and the journey of the hero. No problem there. But my watsonian interpretation, about why Clarke, the character, would submit herself to that, is psychological, and has gotten me into major trouble. But I’m gonna say it anyway, so if you love Lxa and are offended by people looking at the dark side of the CL relationship please do not read.  I’ll put it under the jump, but for some reason that doesn’t work all the time, so when I warn you to stop reading please stop. Be a responsible consumer of the media. And if you choose to read it anyway, recognize that it was your choice and I gave you plenty of opportunity to not be offended, so don’t send me nasty anons please, because you accepted the risk to your sensibilities.

Allright. Doylist:

Clarke is the hero, and Lxa is Clarke’s shadow, her dark side. Her animus.The masculine version of herself who is a ruthless mass murderer willing to sacrifice anyone and anything for her goals. She has always had this side. Maybe her first kill, Atom, was one of mercy, but her second kill, the grounder holding her hostage was NOT. It was to get free and save her people. But Atom and the grounder guard were killed in the same way. Get close, distract with gentleness, then insert blade into jugular. Clarke’s shadow side is the one that allowed the bomb to drop on TonDC (notice she was egged on, if not bullied into it, by L.)  It was the same part of her that even contemplated killing all of MW to save her people. Her shadow betrays her allies for her own people. Clarke was unable to do it on her own until Bellamy helped her. Bellamy is a different kind of dark to her light, but with a similar symbolism, yin/yang, and kind of actually ends up being the light to her dark, which is a whole other symbolic journey that totally transforms the yin yang of CL into something healing seasons later and not what we’re talking about but if you can recognize that similarity to the archetypes there you can recognize what it is about that dynamic that people love so much.

Okay, so the whole point of having that shadow side for a hero is that the hero has to EMBRACE their shadow side in order to be a full identity. They need to stop resisting their darkness and encompass it in their selves, only then can they step into their full powers. I think this is considered Jungian analysis, if you want to read up on it. That’s where you get a lot of the archetypes and symbolism going. Also, you can see it in the Hero’s Journey by Joseph Campbell which builds on Jungian analysis to create a mythic journey we see in many archetypal tales.

Oh, also. Another doylist interpretation. Clarke in Polis is like Odysseus on Circe’s island. Odysseus stays with Circe and is enchanted with her, despite her turning his crew into pigs. He stays for years with her. All while Penelope is left behind to fend off suitors. So Clarke in Polis would be alluding to The Odyssey, a text that is OFTEN referenced on this show. Yes, that would make Bellamy Penelope. (does that mean the suitors are Pike and Kane as well as Gina and Echo? I think it might, actually.)

So why does Clarke fall for L after all that damage? My Doylist interpretation says because Clarke needed to embrace the shadow and because they were reinterpreting The Odyssey. L was Clarke’s shadow the way Circe was Odysseus’ shadow. Anima/Animus. Also, this embracing and acceptance of the shadow story continued on all the way until s5, and I think you can see it in the “be the good guys/maybe there are no good guys/there are no good guys/be the good guys” journey, which was NOT embraced until Clarke talked with flame Lxa and she said she was wrong, betrayal was wrong and love was not a weakness. Shortly after that, Clarke identified the good guy, and it was Bellamy. Then Monty told them to be the good guys and Clarke has not wavered since.

OKAY. Watsonian incoming. All CL and L faithful, please turn away.

okay, so it turns out that when i write about something that once got me harassed or made friends/fandom turn against me, I have to emotionally prepare for it. 

So here’s the thing. The 100 is about Clarke Griffin as the protagonist (and Bellamy Blake as the secondary protagonist,) and s3 is about TRAUMA. Trauma and recovery. Both Clarke and Bellamy are traumatized by MW and encounter a shadow self that represents who they COULD have been, if not for the presence of the other. Clarke could have been the tyrannical leader who thinks she is always right and Bellamy could have been the vengeful leader out to exterminate his enemies. Here you connect the symbolic shadow symbology to the psychological wounding of the trauma and recovery.

If you read Polis as Clarke’s mental journey, it starts to make sense. She lost it and became feral, L kidnapped her and dragged her to Polis. She imprisoned her and, through a series of positive and negative reinforcements (the carrot and the stick), gaslighting, and power games, she turned Clarke to her side and made her empathize with her captor and betrayer. She gave her a way to survive the trauma of what she’d done by telling her everyone does it, it’s okay. 

Why does she believe her? Because she is traumatized and she’s been isolated from her people in a dangerous place where only L keeps her safe. 

Why does she begin to empathize with L? Because this is a psychological phenomenon that is actually common when a person has been kidnapped, removed from their world, and forced to join the other side. We call it Stockholm Syndrome, and the most basic definition is when a kidnap victim begins to have feelings for and empathize with their kidnap victim.

It’s how you survive. And it’s not a thing that is just about Clarke. It turns out that it happened to a LOT of women in tribal times when one tribe would raid another and kidnap women to bring back as wives or slaves or what have you. 

The women who were kidnapped JOINED the kidnappers tribe, because what else could they do?

Anyway. Clarke is dealing with her dark traumatic experiences, L kidnaps her and draws her to her side, she empathizes with L, falls in love, psychologically accepts that her dark side is the right side to handle all this horror, and then returns to her people, not quite whole, but partly healed and limping along in her journey. 

Polis itself was part of the seduction. It was beautiful and comfortable and passionate and romantic and candlelit. A lot of the fandom saw the romance of the seduction and decided that meant the creators were saying that CL was beautiful and L was the new hero of the story, without noticing that it was Clarke’s unreliable narrator, traumatized POV that was clinging to that beauty so she didn’t have to face the pain of what she did, and her people. Shoot. No matter if some people, when getting confirmation from the writers that Polis was a dark psychological story for Clarke, then blamed the FANDOM for never noticing and saying that the only people who did were screaming “ABUSE!” and so were then clearly unreliable. Yes. They were talking about me. Because I TOLD them, personally, in a huge meta discussion, that it was a dark psychological journey and I laid it out for them, and they well. Turned on me, blocked me, ignored me, and then blamed me for them not understanding the damn story. I am still salty to this day. But then, they are no longer in the fandom.

Other people, CL fans, didn’t like that I said Clarke was suffering from Stockholm Syndrome, but if you look it up, you’ll see she fits the definition. L literally kidnapped and imprisoned her and this is evident in narrative, dialogue and word of god. 

Why do we think that’s a romantic story? Because it is an old school, traditional romance tale of literal raiding warriors kidnapping women and bringing them back as wives. So romantic. It had to be, because otherwise the women suffering from trauma would not be able to survive. 

There are no more raiders in modern western society, but the story is imbedded in our collective unconscious and our archetypal stories.

I hate them.

Some people love them.

And the people who love them are immensely offended that the people who hate them recognize an abusive, oppressive and traumatic story within them. And then they send us hate anons and mock us for being abuse survivors and “irrational” and telling us “it’s just fiction, Janice.” and on and on and on. 

[deivorous]

HE BIG BLEACH HC MEME centering around politics, repost & fill out! For anyone who wanted to explore those aspects more, considering it played a big role in the story. Some things may be unknown to your Muse, just think in WHAT IF then & well, have fun and take your time!

BASICS

Name:   Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez  / / /   Age:  Unknown [<100 yrs]   / / /   Gender:  He/Him (Agender) Race:   Shinigami / Quincy / Hollow [ Arrancar ] / Fullbringer / Visored / Human / Other Currently lives:   Soul Society / Hueco Mundo / Silbern / Living World / Hell Exact Location:   Las Noches, Hueco Mundo  ;  Urahara Shoten Rooftop, Karakura Group(s): Las Espadas; Aizen’s Arrancar Army

QUESTIONS

- Would your muse consider themselves more: GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL ? - Would your muse consider their group more: GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL ? - How does your muse think others see them: GOOD / EVIL / NEUTRAL ? - How does your muse think others see their race: GOOD / EVIL / NEUTRAL ? - How does your muse think others see their group: GOOD / EVIL / NEUTRAL ?

- Is your muse considered a threat: YES / NO ?  From whom?:  Shinigami, Humans, Hollows - Is your muse powerful: YES / NO ?  Could they be considered OP:  YES / NO ? - Did your muse commit any crimes: YES / NO ? [ Idk everyone seems pretty chill with murder ] - Does your muse think they are doing mostly the right thing: YES / NO ? - Would society think the same: YES / NO / MIXED OPINIONS ?

- Does your muse think they are treated unfairly: YES / NO ? - Does your muse feel understood from others: YES / NO ? - Is it important for them what others think of them as a person: YES / NO ? - Would they welcome death:  YES / NO ? - Will they ever find peace:  YES / NO ?

01.0.  Do they fully stand behind the group they are part of? YES / NO. Why is that? Explain: Grimmjow firmly believes that Aizen is right. The system is broken and it failed Grimmjow personally. But Grimmjow is disinterested in revenge, and has even less interest in fixing the broken world. All that feels too large, too tumultuous. Why is it his problem? What if they do kill the Soul King. What’s next? Replace one tyrant with another (Grimmjow knows Aizen is not a good man). The fallout can’t be predicted and honestly, his personal goals have very little to do with Aizen’s. Grimmjow’s biggest goal has an always will be to stay alive. It’s hard to do that if you back an organization and a man who is willing to dispose of him the moment his use runs out. Despite this, Grimmjow stands behind Aizen. He does not stand with Aizen’s army.

02.0.  Do they like as things are in Soul Society? YES / NO / INDIFFERENT. 02.1.  Is there anything they would change? Explain here: The whole thing is rotten as far as he’s concerned, but he hasn’t put more thought into it then that. If he could change it without too much effort on his part, he just wants to create a place that is safe for him and the very few people he cares about.

03.0. Would they ever actively try to bring change (in general)? YES / NO. 03.1. Is your muse more: passive / active ?  introverted / extroverted ? 03.2. Does your muse care more about: others / themselves ? 03.3. Do they trouble their mind over a lot of problems, others? YES / NO. 03.4. Do they mostly involve: the world / everyone / themselves / comrades / friends / family / elderly / kids / teenagers / home / workplace / strangers / souls / humans / quincy / shinigami / nobles / fullbringer / visored / hollows / espada / arrancar / (former) boss(es) / pets / animals / zanpakuto spirit / enemies / partner / lovers / soul king / god / other…(add more) 03.5. Name (up to) three which are the most on their mind (optional, adding names): - himself - enemies (shinigami, kurosaki ichigo, aizen sosuke) - surviving espada (nelliel and hallibel)

04.0. Do they think frequently about politics? YES / NO / SOMETIMES. Why is that? Explain: He only starts paying more attention once Harribel ascends to the throne and he is one of the three leaders of Hueco Mundo. Even then, he leaves the diplomacy to Harribel and Nelliel, preferring to take up a more security and defensive based role in protecting their stronghold. His interest only extends so far as to determine ways to benefit himself.

05.0. How do they feel in their current location: POSITIVE / NEGATIVE / NEUTRAL ? 05.1. Why is that?: It’s just a place. He happens to be here.

06.0. Does your muse have any goal: YES / NO ?  BIG / SMALL ? 06.1. Does it involve anything world-changing: YES / NO ? 06.2. If goal or not, any future plans? Share here: He would like to amass enough power as to no longer feel unsafe or threatened. He wishes to gain recognision and acknowledgement - originally as the King - this goal is largely achieved within Hueco Mundo.

07.0. Does your muse know about the Original Sin of Soul Society*: YES / NO ? [ Peripherally he is aware ] * curious? Read about it here. 07.1. If they knew, would it change their views on Soul Society: YES / NO ? 07.2. More: POSITIVE / NEGATIVE / NEUTRAL ?

08.0. Who is the worst person in their eyes?:  Luppi 08.1. What should happen to them? Execution (quick / slow death) / Imprisonment / Stripped of their powers / Torture / Repay for their sins / Pay a Fine / Social Work / lose their loved ones / Exile / other… (add more). 08.2. Explanation:  Nobody is really good or bad in Grimmjow’s eyes. They are either his enemies or they are a neutral party. Luppi is just the bitch that stole Grimmjow’s rank, and Grimmjow can’t let that stand.

09.0. Thoughts on: Quincy Massacre if they knew: POSITIVE / NEGATIVE / NEUTRAL ? 09.1. Would they be alright with such thing happening again: YES / NO / INDIFFERENT ? 09.2. Would they try to prevent it: YES / NO / DEPENDS ? 09.3. Explanation: Grimmjow is a hollow. The Shinigami kill hollows, sure. But the Quincy wipe them from existence. He has no mercy for the Quincy.

10.0. Would they ever switch sides: YES / NO ? 10.1. If yes, What could bring them to do so?:    - Grimmjow is and always will be on his own side. The side he is on is therefore just whichever aligns best with his wants and needs. He is however, also very loyal. One must earn this and then work to keep it. 10.2. Would they create a new one: YES / NO ?  or join a current one? If so, which:  - N/A

11.0. Does your muse follow a certain moral code*?:  YES / NO / GRAY AREA ? * (ethics) A written, formal, and consistent set of rules prescribing righteous behavior, accepted by a person or by a group of people. 11.1. What does it involve?: He always repays his debts. He doles out retribution as it is deserved. 11.2. What does it NOT involve?: He will show no bias in threatment regardless of sex or gender. He does not seek consent or permission. The ends justify the means at any cost. Murder. Violence. Hurting children.

YOUR MUSE’S VIEWS / OPINIONS ON THESE GROUPS ?

Central 46:   positive / negative / neutral.   ━   because: Eh. They’re in charge of the shinigami. Grimmjow hates them by association. He doesn’t really know anything about them beyond what Aizen told him.

Four Great Noble Clans:   positive / negative / neutral.   ━   because: Shinigami affiliated. He has no real idea who these people are or what the want.

Royal Guards / Gotei 13:   positive / negative / neutral .   ━   because: They hunt and kill his kind. THey are his natural enemy.

Fullbringer:   positive / negative / neutral.   ━   because:  He does not have an opinion. He has only met two and one was a shinigami.

Visored:   positive / negative / neutral.   ━   because:  He has... mixed feelings where the visored are concerned. On one hand, they are of shinigami origin. On the other hand, they are definitely at least partially hollow. Grimmjow feels an uncomfortable sort of kinship to them in the sense that both his and their lives were irrevocably affected by Aizen.

Espada:   positive / negative / neutral.   ━   because:  Every single one of them wants him dead. They can not be trusted.

Quincy:   positive / negative / neutral.   ━   because:  They want to exterminate not only his whole species but also the cycle that may one day grant Grimmjow absolution. They invaded his home, hurt his people, strung up his queen. They deserve death, and he will gladly bring it.

YOUR MUSE’S VIEWS / OPINIONS ON THESE (IMPORTANT) PEOPLE ?

Aizen:   positive / negative / neutral.   ━   because: Grimmjow’s relationship to Aizen is much too complex to boil down into a single post. Aizen simultaneously offers Grimmjow what he wanted, and then proceeded to dangle it in front of him and laugh as Grimmjow failed to meet his expectations. Though Grimmjow is willful, he has never desired Aizen’s death (despite what he may say about it). Grimmjow goes to extensive efforts, placing both himself and his pack at risk, and placing Aizen’s desires above his own in attempts to please him. He desperatly wishes to earn his favour and though he knows he will likely never succeed, his fragile hope, fierce possessiveness, and craving for recognision drives him onwards. Grimmjow both loathes and loves Aizen.

Yhwach:   positive / negative / neutral.   ━   because:  An enemy who impeded on Grimmjow’s way of life, threatened and his territory, and whats left of those that Grimmjow could categorize as his ‘people’. The threat must be eliminated.

Mayuri:   positive / negative / neutral.   ━   because:   He doesn’t know who this man is. If he knew that he was responsible for reviving Luppi, he would hate him. If Grimmjow met him, he would decide that Mayuri gives off Szayel vibes, which are bad vibes made significantly worse by the fact that he is a shinigami.

Kurosaki:   positive / negative / neutral.   ━   because: Again, Grimmjow’s perspective on Kurosaki is a complicated and convoluted one that really deserves it’s own post. Grimmjow was specifically made by Aizen as a stepping stone for Ichigo; as intent is realized through the Hōgyoku, at least some of that intent affected Grimmjow during his evolution. Grimmjow fixates obsessively on Ichigo, primarily as an enemy who must be destroyed. However, Ichigo is also one of the very few people who views Grimmjow as his equal, and though Grimmjow is frightened and threatened by this, he also respects Ichigo a great deal for it. These conflicting feelings cause him a lot of confusion which he expresses in violent ways.

Soul King:   positive / negative / neutral.   ━   because:  He has no strong opinions on the soul king prior to seeing it. He believes it is the actual, literal King of the Soul Society. His own pride and desire for power would have him see it as competition. Upon realizing that this is not what the Soul King is, Grimmjow is viscerally disgsted. It’s an abomination and makes him uncomfortable down to his bones. It cements in his mind that Aizen was on the right track, though he now knows of the side effects that may result in destroying it. He is outraged and abhorred that he nearly died tryign to protect such a thing.

CONGRATS, you managed till to the end, now tag your fellow bleach partners!

TAGGED BY: stole from @skyvar TAGGING: No one! It’s much too long for me to force on you, but it is super interestign and I would LOVE to read what everyone elses thoughts are!

[kiingsroar-moved]

           Leona is definitely more cold hearted and tragic in his King ( one of them at least ) verse. In this particular verse, his father calls for his execution right after he and Ruggie return from their vacation shortly after graduating. 

Gonna put the rest under read more cuz it got long--

           After he’s busted out of prison by Ruggie , the two of them are on the run for quite some time. During this time, its something that really changes in Leona. He was getting ready to spend his days with Ruggie and become professional magift players. Being stormed in by the Lion Guard ( yes its what I am calling the lionesses) and throne into prison for something he never planned to do, set him off. Imagine being told you are a monster, a danger, that you’re nothing, you’ll never amount to anything important in your life time and time again. Leona finally trying to get over that, and be with someone who does make him feel like something important and is just stripped away from that. Thrown in jail and made out to be everything his father simply fears will become of him.

       So he plans, and he does exactly what his father feared. He’s already painted him a beast, why not show everyone exactly that? So he takes the kingdom by force, with Ruggie, with whatever allies he’s managed to sway to his side. I imagine outsiders being a big source of that. And he takes the castle. He becomes darker after he kills his father, turning him to sand. I imagine to Leona its quite poetic, hearing he’s nothing from his father and then Leona virtually turning him into nothing. Still, it hurts him. It doesn’t bring him happiness. Even with his father gone, there’s still his brother, rightful heir and Cheka the next in line. He doesn’t have the best relationship with his brother, if anything he feels like a stranger to him but he doesn’t hate him, and he adores Cheka. He loses both of them, forcing them both to advocate their right to the throne and have them imprisoned. I imagine he tries to give Cheka the opportunity to be free, but something tells me he goes with his father. That one person in his family that held unconditional love, completely gone. 

     Because of this he’s colder, more ruthless. That darkness in him growing, manifesting but its still fought back by one particular force and I say that is Ruggie. Probably, the only person who can still make Leona laugh or smile. He’s the voice of reason, and keeps him from being a total tyrant. 

    As a ruler, when he says he will make change and stop anyone who tries to get in the way of it, he isn’t joking. Kind of like how Scar brought the hyenas to live with the lions, but he isn’t gonna be as dumb about it. He isn’t going to let them just eat everything in sight. Scar was a terrible king, and I think Leona kind of feels that too. Scar put a crown on his head and was like lalalala i do what I want. didn’t care about the politics, and actually leading ( and he was supposed to be the brains. bitch pls.) I definitely believe that Leona wants to put work in improving the slums and lesser area of the Savannah. Its not to say this makes him a better king or a great king. His popularity is split, def those that hate and despise him for usurping the throne and others who follow him because he’s made life better for them. He’s still an arrogant asshole, he’s merciless with traitors and his enemies, but he does actually get involved with the politics and the importance of running a country. So hes not good king, but hes not irresponsible with the title either.