#yes we are on completely different continents but at least i’m loved supported and respected 100% of the time

[1ovestay]

very baffling to me that my friends can be like “omfg idk how u manage it!” in regards to me being in an ldr and then go on to describe their relationship with the most pathetic man on the planet and i’m like girl idk how YOU do it

[uwua3]

Hello! Can you write something for Muku helping Juza impress his crush? Thank you!

thank you so much for requesting, anon !! i hope to make you proud with this piece ٩( >w< )و suddenly today, i was overcome with a charming concept for this prompt and i am so happy! please enjoy, and if you’d like a continuation, let me know!

summary: the crown prince ascending to the throne would be nothing without his number one advisor

warnings: arranged marriage, classism, disease, dueling, fear of touching, fighting, military, monarchy, parental deaths/issues, swords

author’s note: you know, no one said to do a royal au but here i am! this will be an enemies to lovers prompt, so please enjoy :D have fun, juza loves you !! ♡

word count: 6,220

music: eyes blue like the atlantic, pt. 2 – sista prod, powfu, alec benjamin, & rxseboy

the crown prince and his advisor.

🌻👑🍁🍰 sakisaka muku + hyodo juza

“absolutely not.”

it doesn’t take much for first in line, prince feared across many nations, and legend in the making, hyodo juza, to not cooperate with his royal court

an arranged marriage, was expectedly one of the things that made him incompetent

“ju–chan,” first advisor muku started, ignoring the snickers of the much older men around him at the childhood nickname and juza’s sudden flustered expression, “you would be a fool to not agree to this arrangement.”

“me? the fool?!” juza huffed, his voice on the verge of raising as he narrowed his eyes at his cousin with the sharp threat of a death sentence. muku sighed, knitting his eyebrows together as he patiently tapped his fingers upon the round table

(leave it to his older, much more influential, and wealthier cousin to be incredibly difficult to work with)

“yes, you know akizakura is the rising power this century. they’re challenging societal norms and making every other monarchy uneasy with their progressiveness. you and them together would have a shocking power play over every single nation on this map.”

muku used his feather quill to refer to the aged map laid out, gesturing as if to say “this could all be yours if you played your cards right”. juza was about to fight back, but bit his tongue, nearly slouching in his seat to contemplate before straightening with muku’s pointed glare

(seriously... juza was the older one?)

“i have no desire to be a dictator.” juza finally spat, turning his head away towards the window and closed his eyes. the rest of the court bristled at this bold, unambitious statement but muku solemnly nodded

after all, it was the dying king’s one true goal to conquer all, not juza’s

“if i may say, prince juza, the heir to the throne—”

“i wish to hear nothing about this so called heir. they mean nothing to me.”

silence plagued the court, the somewhat out of touch yet logical advisors sharing disapproving looks of juza’s childish behavior. muku did his best not to roll his eyes at the crowd, instead plastering a neutral expression

it seemed like most of the times, the whole kingdom forgot juza was a child. just a boy suddenly forced to uphold his responsibilities with his father’s slow demise

“shall we reconvene tomorrow?” muku suggested, to which juza nodded. the court quickly went up and left, shooting curious and nosy glances at muku who remained in his seat. when everyone parted ways and the guard by the door confirmed there were no eavesdroppers, muku quietly pushed out his chair and moved to stand by his cousin’s side

for a while, no one said anything. until, juza’s tense posture slumped and he buried his face into his hands, trying his best to keep it all together even with no one to witness his defenses down

“i wish... father wasn’t so ill. i shouldn’t be here, i don’t want to be here.” juza declared, the words muffled by his palms. advisor muku gently placed a hand upon the crown prince’s shoulder, patting it slightly with a sympathetic tone to his words

“i know, i’m sorry. but, you will be a great king for the people of higanbana.”

before juza could ask how he knew for sure, muku just fixed the kingdom’s red spider lily pendant to make sure it was straight. it was the royal family’s heirloom, a universally recognized sign this was the son of a highly respected, pure bloodline

“ju–chan, have i ever led you astray?”

yes, many times, juza thought, reminiscing back on when they were kids. but, he didn’t say any of that, he instead shook his head solemnly

hyodo juza, first in line, prince feared across many nations, legacy in the making, was only eighteen when he would be coronated as king. the youngest king in all of higanbana history, all because his father was dying

and, he needed to secure his ascension through marriage to a complete stranger

but rest assured, muku, number one advisor, cousin to the crown prince, wise beyond all, was surprisingly relentless. becoming the new upcoming king’s right hand man had changed him for the better, preventing him from letting his insecurity and indecisiveness show its true colors

sure, he was still the scared coward who screamed unlike a man and didn’t have the natural class of royalty, but putting on a front was worth it to save juza from losing all support inside and out

the abrupt news that the oldest son of the hyodo family was soon to be hailed as king was, a surprise, to the townsfolk. many who were comfortable and simply used to king hyodo’s reign were not vocally against it, luckily enough. it was more a thing to gossip about than anything, but the royal family never particularly enjoyed the rumor mill

unfortunately, being coronated as a... single king was a pressing matter to all of the people, apparently. no king in history just rose to power without an influential and powerful partner by their side, it would leave vulernability due to the limited allies

especially what would remain of them, considering some kingdoms may break ties with the hyodos since juza and his father were... very different people

so, as said before, muku was relentless. continously insisting that this marriage contract was the best possible option for juza, that no other heir could even come close. juza didn’t want to believe it even if it was true, considering his stubborn nature

it took many, many bribes of tea parties and constant challenging duels for him to admit defeat

it was perhaps a tiring match that afternoon before juza exhaled sharply through his nose, moving to sheath his sword as he waved the white flag. muku, also surprisingly quick and agile on his feet with a weapon, managed to suppress a “told you so” grin at the look of exasperation

“fine, fine! i’m tired of fighting—” juza was not a major fan of dueling whatsoever, even if he was blessed with the physical proportions to do so easily

before muku could jump up in relief, juza sent a stern glare with no malice towards his cousin’s way. the sword hit the sheath, making a loud cutting noise throughout the empty, private training grounds

“but, i want to meet them first. then, i’ll decide to marry or not.”

muku knew this was the best he was going to get, and had the private secretary immediately pen a letter toward’s akizakura. shortly afterwards, a request for the heir to visit was accepted

you were also first in line, an intimidating but just political figure, and also a legend in the making. you were the talk of the town, to say the least

but, you sure didn’t feel like it

you anxiously tapped your foot, feeling seasick from how long this boat journey had already been. you had been invited by the higanbara kingdom to “visit” to “discuss political alliances and ideas to better serve the people”, though anyone with a brain could see straight through that lie

your parents intended on promising you to some eighteen year old hyodo hotshot, someone you’ve never even met!

at first, you were extremely demanding for them to consider changing their minds, that you didn’t need... a man... to help you rule the world. men would only hold you back, they’d do nothing good for you, anyways!

but, you knew the future of akizakura was in your hands. your parents were strong, but slowly, their old age would catch up to them and they needed to protect the famly legacy. you were the next expected heir, considering how active you’ve been in the government since you could read and write

though, no one exactly stated a marriage contract came along with power

you didn’t exactly know what higanbara looked like, but you’ve heard... rumors, about the family that ruled it all. the hyodos were an imposing force, spreading their control far and wide with unfathomable military power and merciless tactics

you couldn’t imagine what the crown prince was like. how, barbaric, he must be. must’ve been an inhumane and unreasonable fighter that took everyones’ heads with him

lucky for you, you were a trained fighter as well who would never let a man even have a sliver of control over your dead body

“your royal highness, we are here in higanbara.” the captain announced, followed by the sound of the ship’s horn. thank the gods, or you might have swam there yourself considering how rocky sea travels were

fixing your appearance, you masked your face in a stone cold expression, showing you were all business without the supervision of your parents. you were your own person, you didn’t need to be ordered around by some man

as the ship reached port, you noticed a set of figures at the foggy dock. higanbara was... dismal. it was all shades of grey, like there was no life. the oceans were a glittering silver, as if there were thousands of treasures waiting to be discovered. and at the port, was a sight to behold

you stepped onto the creaky wood cautiously, looking around before you noticed a stoic face peering down at you. perhaps a beat too late from how much he was staring, he then offered his hand without ever saying a word

you ignored it, knowing you didn’t need it at all. but from the looks of it, they were calloused, scarred, large. hands of a warrior—his eyebrows rose slightly in surprise at your blatant rejection. before he could speak, you heard someone else introduce the kingdom

“your royal highness, welcome to higanbara!” you heard a gentle, but enthusiastic, voice from behind the tall man who helped you on land. you turned to see a rather short, pink–haired royal with a shaky but elegant smile. you couldn’t help but smile at the boy

(you didn’t notice juza’s subconcscious quirk of his lips at your guard coming down, before he looked away with his ears red and mind confused. why did he do that?)

“thank you...?” you trailed off, awaiting an introduction before the pink royal dropped into a hurried but somewhat graceful bow, coming up with a surprise rose. you had no idea where it came from, causing you to let out a surprised laugh. higanbara was filled with many surprises, apparently

“i am his royal highness’ first advisor, sakisaka muku, it is a pleasure.” muku smiled pleasantly, but you noticed his eyes lingered on the way you stood oddly close with the crown prince

you tried to step back casually as if there was nothing wrong, but you almost stumbled off the edge of the dock. unluckily, juza was fast and immediately wrapped his arm around your waist, keeping you close as he froze under the sudden attention at your close proximity

“let go.” you demanded and your tone was ice cold like the waters

“please... be careful—” juza mumbled, his grip strong before you pushed him off, scowling with a sharp glare his way

“let go!” you yelled, drawing attention as you glared daggers at higanbara’s crown prince. you couldn’t believe it, did all men just think they could grip you like that? as if you needed help?!

“do not touch me, i did not give you permission.” you cursed, shocking nearly everyone as you brushed off your clothes. juza blinked, taken back before he frowned, his eyebrows furrowed

“but, if i hadn’t, you would’ve fell into the water—”

“then, let me fall! i can swim!”

when you met his eyes, he was very clearly frustrated. the awe of meeting you had worn off, and juza was certain he’d make an enemy out of your stubborn pride and rude attitude right off the bat

muku intervened, laughing awkwardly as if a newcomer didn’t just yell at higanbara’s crown prince. stepping between you two, he seemed to communicate something with his eyes to juza who suppressed the need to storm off

“i am first in line, crown prince hyodo juza. a... pleasure.” juza faltered, his tone superficial and void of any genuine pleasure. he bowed anyways, his back rigid and yellow eyes analyzing your every move. he must’ve been a battle tactician with how observant he was

you didn’t do anything back, just crossed your arms and averted your eyes. “i know who you are, you know who i am. can we move on?”

juza was about to impulsively snap back before muku agreed, staying between you two despite the common courtesy of trailing behind royalty. the guards set at the port parted on command, yelling back “yes sir!” at juza’s order to march back to the castle

was this a power move? to intimidate you and make you go in shock over juza’s military background? two could play at this game

you stood taller, ignoring his gaze as you hurried forward, not wanting to be beside the man who just randomly touched you without your consent. not to mention, the audacity to linger! how inappropiate!

juza stared after you, and looked over his shoulder towards muku, visually confused over how offstandish you were

muku just sighed. this was going to be a long, long two weeks of akizakura’s ascending heir in higanbara

it was an understatement to say you and juza got off on the wrong foot. you never allowed just anyone to touch you randomly out of no where. you weren’t some clumsy person in distress, you were a leading figure in your kingdom, for goodness sake! you easily could’ve fixed your footing, stood back up straight, and moved on

juza was rather peeved at your reaction. you didn’t even take his hand like a polite royal would! didn’t thank for him for saving you from the ocean and had the audacity to curse him out like he was some commoner in front of his own troops. juza felt embarrassed from how low he was treated, you had no respect for him or higanbara

muku, was tired. when other nobles whispered about how out of the ordinary and eccentric you were and how strange akizakura’s customs were, he didn’t expect having to save his crown prince from a near beating

you had guts and nerve, just like juza. maybe, you two had more than meets the eye, but unfortunately, both people were stubborn, prideful, and arrogant privileged kids who didn’t want to see the other side

so throughout the first half of your stay, muku felt more like a babysitter than an advisor. it took everything in his power to keep you two from physically fighting each other in front of the royal circle

you two seemed to disagree on everything. while you were an “all or nothing” type of pefson, who went extreme on every suggestion you had and was willing to risk everything for a better future, juza was... the opposite

unlike his bold and brash father who would’ve gotten along just fine with you, juza wanted new change. he was always playing the devil advocate, pointing out flaws you hadn’t taken account for before. but, he was hesitant, wanting to take it slow, and ease into the plan than go head first

it made both your tactics and strategies clash and nothing was getting done. but muku, wise and relentless muku, knew it was more than just childish arguments at the round table. it was the slowly building tension between you two ever since that one bad first impression

and perhaps, the intense pressure from both sides to accept this arranged marriage for the sake of both kingdoms. it was too much on teens savoring their last few years of youth

and just like before, muku knew what needed to happen in order for someone (most likely juza) to give up their defenses and say something

you elegantly strode into the training grounds early in the morning, holding the first advisor’s personal note in your hand as you looked around. you were scheduled to meet muku, in a neutral place to get the overview of today’s meeting without juza’s involvement

or, so you thought

you heard a scuff of shoes and a quick “damn, sakisaka” behind you. whipping around, you came face to face with a sleepy juza, who’s eyes immediately widened and took a few steps back. it seemed like you caught him off guard, and he held a similar note in his hand as well

it didn’t take a genius to figure out what muku had done, as you huffed and placed your hands on your hips. juza straightened his posture and looked down at you, expressing that he wished he could be anywhere but with you

“hyodo—” you started, to which juza pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. “that’s my father, i’m juza.” you continued anyways, ignoring his sharp pointed look

“are you here to fight with me again? perhaps, make a fool of me again?” you accused, pointing a finger at his chest as seethed. juza rolled his eyes, visibily frustrated as he threw his hands up, planning his escape already

“i have no business with you here. i will depart now.” juza forced out in a neutral tone, as if you two hadn’t been at each other’s throats the past week. before juza could spin on his heel and take his leave, you grabbed a sword near by and the sound of it leaving its sheath made him stop in his tracks

“you. me. right now.” you demanded and juza let out a humorless laugh. you were in over your head if you could think you could beat a hyodo at a duel. looking at the sky, he noticed it would be quite a bit of time until the official start of his day as crown prince. maybe, he could spare a bit of time

“at your service, your royal highness.” juza mocked, obnoxiously bowing that made your eye twitch at how insufferable he was

“take your pick. regardless, you’ll lose by my hand.”

juza chose his normal practice sword, the hilt engraved with his name and bore the spider design of the red lily. it had the grandeur of being a ceremonial sword, which you scoffed at. ugh, rich kids

you took the one closest to you and juza expected you two would walk to the middle, circle each other to see who would make the first move. he should’ve known you weren’t exactly the waiting type, because the moment he stepped into the ring, you hit first

luckily, juza whipped his sword up and the metal clashed with yours, the sound echoing in the courtyard. that was the start of the longest duel juza’s ever had

used to muku’s dexterity, juza had to find out the hard way you were much more of a strength fighter. you took him by surprise most times, with forceful and somewhat vengeful attacks. yet, juza was a formidable opponent. he had learned from the best after all, and this was one of the few duels he had the goal to try at

you smirked when juza nearly lost his footing, not reaching out to catch him by any means and holding your hands up. “see, i respect people’s private space and don’t touch them without permission.”

juza swung back with much more force than normal, which you hurriedly parried. the contact of metal rang in your ears as juza gained the upper hand, looming over you with distaste

“you would’ve drowned if i let you fall!”

“you knew i didn’t take your hand for a reason, i refuse to let a man touch me!”

you pushed back but he was like a rock, unmoving and resilient. he seemed to contemplate something before putting his sword down, nearly sheathing it before stopping, making sure to meet your eye

“i’m sorry.”

you blinked, taken back. was that an apology? from a hyodo?

“i understand you have your reasonings to hate physical contact, and i respect that. by no means did i mean to make you uncomfortable.” juza explained, feeling a weight lifted off his shoulders as he finally found a time to apologize properly

“i wouldn’t have touched you unless i knew it was for your own safety, i’m sorry.” juza finished and you thought about it, before putting your own sword down with a heavy sigh

“i’m... also sorry. i knew you had good intentions, but i blew up because...” you seemed to think some more before exhaling. “i don’t need a man to save me, don’t think i need you or anything. i’m a perfectly capable, independent person.”

juza related to how your pride blinded your anger, and nodded. you two seemed to reach a mutual understanding and juza ducked his head, lowering it so it’d be easier to talk to you away from the castle that was waking up

“i did not mean to insult your character. i’m sure you are a whole person who does not need saving, it was not my intention.”

without another word, you moved past him, acting as if you were going to put your weapon away. instead, you quickly knocked his sword out of his loose hands, smiling innocently as if nothing happened

“i believe i win.”

“a dirty play, mind you.”

“a win is a win.”

“a victory is nothing if not honorable.”

you looked over your shoulder with a curious look, as if you were really seeing juza for the first time. you expected a burly man who would burn down nations just for a taste of godhood. instead, he seemed humble, unlike a hyodo

“hyodo—”

“i’m not my father, i am juza.” juza repeated again, without the usual bite, and you suddenly understood why juza taking the throne was big news. he was nothing like his father, this would be the ushering of a new age

hopefully, a golden age

“juza,” you said for the first time and for once, he presented a close–lipped smile that seemed void of royal duties. “i look forward to dueling you again.”

“as do i.”

“do not expect to win.”

(first advisor muku held in his squeals on the balcony adjacent to the training grounds. he typically liked to sneak up there to read and prepare for the day, but he was hiding this time to eavesdrop. looks like his plan worked!)

(when juza looked up to meet his eyes, he looked as if he knew all this time. muku nervously smiled and waved slowly, to juza’s hidden relief that he made progress)

(but... why was he so happy to see you weren’t holding a grudge against him anymore? did your opinion truly mean that much?)

the round table was much more, productive. muku liked to take credit for the riveting debates that replaced the senseless arguments, finding that both you and juza had similar goals at the end of the day, just different tactics

although there were still some very inappropiate comments here and there by your mouth, it didn’t seem personal anymore. it was clear to the court that you were intelligent, bright, and offered new perspective that no one else considered. they all knew akizakura was a force not to be reckoned with

by then, a week had passed, and it was time for the welcoming ball!

you would be introduced to the rest of the castle through a rather lame excuse to party. you knew what all of the glamarous charades and rich pleasantries were really all about, to assess if akizakura was worthy of taking their beloved crown prince’s hand. you could’ve laughed, because that was a major joke

you didn’t need to do anything, you knew you already were above and beyond what they expected. so that night as you insisted on preparing your appearance alone, you were slightly annoyed to hear a knock on your guest chambers

“go away! i said—”

“your royal highness, this is crown prince juza’s first advisor, sakisaka muku.”

you paused, looking away from the mirror and relented, letting him come in. when muku silently stepped inside and closed the door gently, he bowed with newfound confidence and sent you an easy smile that made you feel at ease

you understood why juza would want muku around, he didn’t seem like that dependable of a guy, but he was a good person through and through

“sakisaka, i remember you. you were the one who misled me to duel juza.” you said, giving him an once over before fixing your hair, staring back into the mirror. out of the corner of your eye, you noticed muku blush and he resorted to laughing awkwardly unprompted

“ah... yes—”

“and you were the one hiding in the balcony, correct?”

muku’s eyes widened, how did he get caught?! he thought only juza noticed. it was no wonder how you were such an equal match to higanbara’s crown prince, you had the same strengths and few weaknesses

“please, you do not give me enough credit.” you hummed in response, standing up and approving your final look of the day. you would wear akizakura’s kingdom colors, with the crest pinned. it would leave no question who you represented and where your loyalties lied

muku rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a breathy “haha” as the silence overcame. you slipped your kingdom ring on, watching it glint in the subtle candle light

“though, i must thank you, shouldn’t i?” you spoke in rhetorics often, muku realized. he waited for you to continue and you did, busying yourself with cleaning up your station. you had no need of maids even if you respected the profession

“without you, i wouldn’t have gotten an apology out of him. now, we’re...” you trailed off, unsure on how to finish that statement. muku hid his teasing smile, masking it as something innocent as he gratefully bowed his head, his white–gloved hand over his heart

“friends?”

you didn’t answer, instead standing tall and turning to completely face muku. he didn’t look you in the eye, but he too increased his height as if to match your authority. he was admirable for at least trying

“i must say, first advisor, juza is most fortunate to have you clean up his messes.” you half–joked, and muku nodded, agreeing seriously even if it was in jest

“however, i can promise you this. if you must contact me, do not trick me. i will not be as merciful.”

a shiver ran down muku’s spine. you truly were next in line of ruthless akizakura. but, it was a sign of respect, nonetheless. everyone was fully aware of how outstanding and remarkable you were to be the voice of the new generation

“understood, your highness. i did not come to deceit you, only to greet my cousin when he arrives.”

you tilted your head. this was news—no one could exactly tell muku and juza were cousins. really? the same bloodline?

“are you serious?”

“we get that reaction a lot.” you heard juza’s voice behind the door and you subconsciously broke your stern expression, rolling your eyes as you crossed your arms. muku noticed your shoulders dropped ever so slightly, you must’ve been comfortable around juza, then

“come in already, don’t be a creep.” you called out and juza stepped inside, stopping at the sight of you. instantly, his cheeks became flushed and he seemed like he was about to do something incredibly stupid (which he did, amused muku did not stop him)

“you—um, you, you look... nice.”

nice? you looked absolutely amazing, you already knew that. you were going to be the best dressed in the entire ballroom, that’s for sure

(but, for some reason, you were disappointed. nice? was that all you were to him? wait—why did you care?! a man’s validation of your appearance was the last thing you needed)

muku was this close to intervening before you huffed, patting down your outfit. “do i suddenly have value because i look nice?” you air–quoted “nice” and juza got even redder, looking away as if to save his dignity

“no, no. your worth isn’t based on your looks.” juza reassured and you knew he meant it. you relaxed a bit, thankful juza didn’t have the same intentions as every royal noble out there ever. muku’s eyes bounced back from you and juza continously, picking up on the signs with increasing interest

he had never seen juza slip up this much around someone before... could it be? did he actually like you now?

“look at the time! i must go help with the preparations, come down soon.” muku lied, which juza caught on fairly quickly. before he could call muku to come back, the young advisor sliped out of the chambers and ran to the main event. he succeeded in leaving you and juza alone

an uncomfortable silence set over both of you as juza examined your room out of curiousity, and you tapped your foot. you were confused, what was this feeling inside your chest? why were you suddenly so nervous?

if you were confused, you didn’t let it show on your face. instead, juza offered his arm, holding it out to you with no threat at all as he gestured his chin towards the ballroom

“would you do me the honor of letting me escort you to the ball?”

you stared at his arm, the arm you noticed was slightly shaking, whether from nerves or holding it out too long, who knew. as much as you hated to admit it, you wouldn’t want any other person escorting you

with a turn of events, you took juza’s arm and felt it tense before relaxing, giving you a chance to let go any time. he put on a rare smile, and you liked how his yellow eyes crinkled at the corners when he did

“thank you.” for trusting me, for changing your opinion about me, for giving me a chance even if i don’t deserve it, juza thought, but it was all unsaid

“sure.” you responded, but you smiled, too. it was the first time you had given him such a genuine smile, that he couldn’t help but do the same

you two moved to stand at the top of the stairs, awaiting the announcement of both your names. in the mean time, you realized juza wasn’t the hyodo you thought he was

as he escorted you down the stairs, with everyone’s eyes on you two, you two were the splitting image of graceful and threatening intimidation and power. but, it didn’t feel like that. instead, it was just you and juza, a crown prince who had a nasty temper and natural hand at sword dueling

the ball seemed to last a lifetime. so many unnecessary introductions which you put a front on. social interaction was draining, it was becoming a difficult task to shake everyone’s hands and pretended like you cared about rich people problems

so, like every celebration ever, you escaped the main event and stepped into the hyodo rose garden. mostly hues of orange, you noticed the eternal autumn that hung over the kingdom. oranges and reds entranced you as you sat at the edge of the water fountain in the middle, the constant stream distracting you from the background party noise

(“where are they?” juza asked, pulling wallflower muku aside who mainly stood by the buffet table to hide extra sweets for his cousin. muku smiled, his eyes sliding in the direction of the rose garden as juza caught on. though, juza seemed hesitant, like he was worried if he should go or not)

(“do not be a fool, ju–chan. what other time will you have to confess?” muku asked and juza nearly choked on his champagne glass, shooting a wide–eyed look at his cousin. it was as if he was asking how did he know?)

(“this is your first crush, isn’t it? luckily, the person you intend on marrying.” muku lightheartedly jested, to which juza bumped his shoulder into his slightly. “like i said, do not be a fool, ju–chan. go.”)

(juza contemplated it before nodding, slipping out of mind and out of sight. muku proudly raised his glass after him, as if to say congratulations. all that gossip with the town cupid paid off for muku, his crown prince would be hopelessly pining without him)

(all he needed to do was one last thing. first advisor made his way towards the orchestra, about to request a song)

you watched the moonlight for quite a time before you heard a rustle of leaves towards the entrance, turning your head to see juza. juza, in his orange and black uniform and red spider lily pendant. juza looked dashing beneath the stars, as he waited for you to invite him

you moved aside and juza sat down at a safe distance, stargazing along with you. the silence was comfortable, this time around. it was filled with glasses clinking together, the everpresent buzz of crickets, and flow of the water fountain

unlike your initial thoughts, you didn’t exactly mind higanbara as much as you thought you would

“the ball, is a bit much.” juza admitted, to which you agreed. “tell me about it, i don’t know how you lasted that long.” you said lightheartedly, but it seemed to make juza think as he leaned back, balancing himself by stretching his hands out on the rim of the fountain

“i... i don’t like balls, really. my father always liked them, he was the life of the party.” you noticed juza used the past tense even if his father was still alive, but you knew not for long

“he was also, born to be king. could command a whole army without fail, delivered inspiring speeches that could get the whole town riled up, was the face of his kingdom. now...”

“it’s you.”

juza nodded, as if accepting this fact for the first time. it was as clear as the full moon that night—juza was afraid he could never live up to the legacy his father would soon leave behind

“i don’t want to be king.” juza confessed in a whisper, like it could change anything. you wanted to be a monarch, but you understood juza’s struggles. he must’ve missed out on a normal childhood, like every other person born into nobility

“but, i care for the people of higanbana. i will do my best to make them proud, and to continue the legacy of this kingdom.” juza continued, clenching his fists as he did so. you turned your head to see he looked lighter, like it was something weighing him down ever since he found out

“you’ll be a good king. i have seen your plans, and you are unlike your father. you will be better.”

juza turned to stare into your eyes, searching for any sign of lies. you were telling the truth, and you were shocked at how honest you just were. but, you believed it. you believed in juza and his legacy, the incoming new golden age would arrive

“thank you, i—your people are lucky to have you.” juza said, but he seemed distant. before he could lean in, you heard the soft playing of the orchestra from far, far away

this time, you stood up and offered your hand. unlike last time however, juza accepted your hand and it was true. both your hands were calloused, scarred, large. so the two warriors wordlessly slow danced under the moonlight in the rose garden to their new favorite song

that night, juza may have not said it out loud, but both of you were too observant and smart for your own good. as he walked you to your chambers, you were the one who leaned in this time

“is this a dirty play?” you teased, inches away from his lips. juza gulped as he admired your face illuminated by the lanterns

“a win is a win.”

it was all fair, in the game of love

your two weeks had passed. it was time for you to go home, back to akizakura to make your final decision of whether to marry a hyodo or not

you let juza help you into the boat even if you didn’t need it, and said goodbye to the grey higanbana and it’s forever autumn. there was no one around since juza requested a private departure, so you let yourself smile at him

“will i see you again?” juza asked the question that had been weighing on his mind ever since that night in the rose garden. you were on the ship, but didn’t let go of his hand

“do not be a fool, juza,” you started roughly, and juza could feel his heart drop. was this the end? he didn’t want this to be the last time, he liked you

“next time, you’ll go to akizakura. there, we can duel.”

“and i’ll win.” juza confirmed and you let go, fondly rolling your eyes. as the ship departed, you suddenly rushed to the edge, cupping your hands around your mouth

“tell sakisaka i said thank you!”

of course, you found out about everything. juza just nodded and waved, watching you disappear into the horizon

juza would await your invitation to akizakura as he practiced his dueling skills with a certain matchmaker named sakisaka muku

[onlyhenrys]

She-Wolf Chapter 10

She-Wolf

Summary:  She’s the only female witcher. He’s the most powerful witcher in the continent. What happens when the two cross paths?

Series Masterlist: here

Warning: none (for once) 

The lovely Nesrin is dedicated to my gf @iloveyouyen​

Thank you @promptandpros​​ for being my lovely friend and beta <3

The sound of laughter echoed through the air and Geralt released a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as he threw another log in the fire, watching closely how the flames licked at the wood before completely consuming it. 

When Geralt asked Faolán to join him to help Avyanna, he didn’t expect him to fall for the element bender that tried to kill them. They were an odd couple, the two of them. He, a witcher that’s supposed to have no emotions and her, an element bender, almost too powerful to safely live in their world. And yet, she left everything behind to follow his path, as she felt her elements reach out to him, a sign that he was her destiny, whatever that meant. They grew close during the days that they traveled to Kaer Morhen, almost inseparable as they spend day and night together, never leaving each other’s sides. 

A soft touch on his arm pulled Geralt back from his thoughts and he looked up to find Avyanna, towering above him, a frown between her eyebrows. ‘’Are you okay? I called you at least three times.’’ 

‘’Hmm,’’ he mumbled, his gaze once again straying to the happy couple a few feet over. 

Avyanna followed his gaze and chuckled, moving to sit next to him on the log. ‘’I’ve never seen him this happy.’’ 

‘’Hmmm, it’s a real joy.’’ 

Avyanna burst into laughter and playfully shoved him away, drawing a small smile from him as well. ‘’Don’t pretend you’re not happy for them, I saw the secret smile you sent their way earlier.’’ 

He tried to smile, pulling his face together in a hideous grimace. ‘’You mean this face? Because I don’t think that counts as happy.’’ 

She chuckled in response and dropped her head on his shoulder, overwhelming him with her sweet scent. Whatever had her in its power laid low, making her a ticking bomb ready to explode.

She sighed, her breath hot against his neck. ‘’I’m fine, Geralt.’’ 

He raised his eyebrow and craned his neck to catch her eye. ‘’I didn’t say anything.’’ 

‘’No,’’ she breathed, ‘’but I’m pretty sure even Yen and Triss are able to smell your worry.’’ She moved her head off his shoulder and turned her body so she could fully face him. ‘’What’s going on, wolf, you can talk to me.’’ 

The truth is that he couldn’t, not the way he used to. He started to act differently around her after he realized that he was utterly in love with her. His worry about her got a whole new meaning and he didn’t know how to process it. He felt like he ruined their friendship by falling for her and hearing her say those words made that feeling even stronger. 

He got lost in thoughts again, something that was so unlike Geralt that she reached out to touch his cheek, bringing him back to the present. ‘’What’s bothering you?’’ 

‘’I’m in love with you,’’ he blurted it out, just like that, his thoughts still so far away that he didn’t notice her flinch. 

She was faintly aware of Faolán and Nesrin who retreated to the stream a little farther into the woods, giving them privacy for this conversation. They needed to have this conversation. She always knew he would realize that he was in love with her, but she never thought of the consequences when he finally admitted it to her, and how she would respond. 

‘’Geralt…’’

“No,” he reached out as she tried to pull away, holding her hand tightly in his, “don’t run, not again.” 

Time seemed to slow down as their eyes met, the spark between them becoming clear as they met each other halfway, their teeth clashing together in a desperate attempt to get closer. They tried to make up for all the years they wasted by denying their feelings as they moved their lips hungrily, trying to taste as much of the other as they could. 

Geralt lowered himself to the floor, dragging Avyanna with him, drawing a giggle from her lips. He took advantage of her laugh, deepening the kiss. His tongue touched hers and she gasped against his lips at the heavy taste of Ale. Geralt wrapped his fingers in her hair, pulling at the short strands while she cupped his face in her hands, his skin rough against her fingers. He pulled back to catch his breath, his pupils dilated as he gazed up to her, brushing a curl back behind her ears. 

‘’You have no idea what you’re doing to me, Avy. Just the idea of not being able to touch you is driving me insane.” 

She bit her lip and tilted her head, sending a tumble of red locks over her shoulder as she gazed down. ‘’I can feel what I’m doing to you, wolf.’’ 

He swallowed a chuckle and a faint blush appeared on his face. Avyanna leaned down and buried her face in the crook of his neck as her body shook with contained snickers. ‘’Sorry,’’ he mumbled, ‘’this is embarrassing.’’

She lifted her head and searched his face before sitting up in his lap, her hands unclasping the heavy armor, leaving her only in her shift. He reached up and traced the faint outline of her hardened nipples, his cock pulsing painfully with longing for the witcher in front of him. 

‘’May I?’’ He pointed to the little ropes that kept her shift together. 

‘’When did you become polite?’’ she grabbed the ropes herself and her shift fell off her shoulders, revealing her bare skin. A smirk pulled at her lips as she shifted to lay down, locking her lips with his. 

“You know,” he panted between their kisses, “we still have to talk.” 

She pushed him back down with a feral light in her eyes. 

“Not now, Geralt.”  

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

Waking up almost felt like a crime. He softly traced invisible patterns on her skin, waiting for her to wake up, to gaze into her amber eyes. The rising sun cast a golden glow on her face, emphasizing the freckles that were splattered on her nose. Her long lashes dusting against her cheekbones, fluttering ever slightly as she dreamt. A sigh escaped from her lips as she shifted closer against his chest, drawing a small smile from him. He wondered if she was dreaming about him and if the night had meant just as much for her as it had for him.

He looked up and caught Nesrin’s gaze, her brown eyes shining as she gazed back at him. She pointed between Avyanna and Geralt, before pretending to cut her throat, a smirk on her lips. He shook his head at her clear message and shooed her away, scared of what the element bender would do to him if he ever hurts her friend. 

It was time for them to go. They were only 1 day away from Kaer Morhen and Geralt wanted to arrive as fast as possible, eager to find out what was possessing his love. But he needed to talk to her first, without the interruption of Triss and Yen, because he knew they would hover around her as soon as they rode through the gates. 

He turned to the sleeping witcher on his chest and softly shook her shoulders. She moaned as she was pulled for her peaceful slumber, blinking groggy against sunlight. 

“Wh…. what’s happening? Is everything alright?” She removed her head from his chest and sat up, her sleepy expression replaced by an alertness that only a witcher could muster. 

He placed a hand on her shoulder, feeling her muscles relax under his touch. “Calm down, we’re fine. It’s almost time to go and I just wanted to talk to you before arriving at Kaer Morhen.” 

“Oh,” she sagged back on the ground, her hands fumbling with the thin blanket that covered her naked form, “well, talk.” 

“Do you love me? Because you know that I do, but you never mentioned it while we were laying together and I wonder - “ 

He was cut off as Avyanna started to chuckle, quickly hiding her mouth. “Yes, Geralt. I love you too, please stop rambling.” 

He grimaced, trying to hide his embarrassment by scratching his neck. “I’m not good at this…. thing,” he reached out to press her against his side, “but I do want this to work out. Us, being together, if you want that as well.” 

She was quiet for a while, softly biting down on her lip. “I want to give it a try, but - “ she held up a finger as Geralt opened his mouth to respond, “only if you promise to let me go when necessary.” 

“Let you go?” 

She averted her eyes, stirring something in his stomach. “I want you to let me go if Triss and Yennefer are not able to help me.” 

“Avy - “ 

She pressed her finger against his lips, silencing him. “Don’t, Wolf, please. Just… respect my decision. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I hurt any of you, this is truly the best alternative.” 

His throat closed up and he swallowed, getting rid of the heavy feeling that settled in this stomach. “I can do that, but only if you promise me, that you will keep fighting, no matter what happens.” 

“I promise. Thank you, Geralt.” 

————————————————————————————————————————————

It grew warmer, the wind howling above the rocks no longer icy and brutal. The pass opened up, leading through a ravine and then into the valley, opening onto a huge depression, covered by forest, which stretched out amidst jagged boulders. The little group ignored the gentle, accessible depression rim and rode down towards the forest, into the thick backwoods. 

It didn’t take long for them to emerge onto clearer land, riding along the stream, the water trickling silently through the rocks. Avyanna looked around carefully, finally finding what she was looking for. Over the gully, supported horizontally by enormous boulders, laid a large tree trunk, dark, bare and turning green with moss. She rode closer, a small smile on her face as she searched for the narrow pathway, disappearing into the woods. 

Roach snorted as Geralt led her towards the female Witcher, his expression soft as he noticed the trail, a feeling of home washing over him. He reached out to Avyanna and grabbed her hand in his, dragging her eyes away from the path. 

“We’re almost home.”  

Memories flashed before her eyes and one in particular lingered, warming her heart as she stared down at a young Geralt, his hair still brown and curly, a shy smile on his face as he looked at a young version of herself. She shook her head and the memory disappeared to the back of her mind before digging her heels into IceFall’s flank, urging the stallion forward. 

The dark castle loomed in the distance, it’s towers a stark contrast against the fading light of the setting sun. The castle had used to be in better shape, never really recovered from the attack it endured, but it was home.  

The gates opened and a lonely figure appeared, his arms crossed in front of his chest as he waited for the small group to come closer. The figure stepped into the light and a sharp intake of breath cut through the heavy silence. Avyanna looked over her shoulder, to the element bender, who quickly slammed a hand in front of her mouth. 

‘’Sorry,’’ she mumbled, ‘’that was rude of me.’’ She smoothly jumped off her horse and stepped forward. ‘’My name is Nesrin, I - ‘’

The air around them started to buzz with magic and a purple, pulsing, portal appeared. Avyanna held her breath as the raven-haired woman appeared, her violet eyes finding hers immediately, locking her in place. 

‘’Someone asked for my help?’’  

[kmomof4]

Of Darkness, Vampires and Soulmates Ch. 3 The Family Desmoulins

We’re back y'all! Thank you all so much!! Your response to this fic has brought me such joy! I know we’ve had a lot of pain so far, and we still have a lot of story left to tell, so thank you all for coming on this journey with me and for the trust you’ve gifted me with! I hope that you’ll agree that it was worth it when we reach the end!! I hope that you continue to enjoy!!

All the love and hugs in the world to @profdanglaisstuff​ for her outstanding beta services, @hollyethecurious​ for her encouragement and willingness to listen to me spitball, brainstorm and whine whine and whine some more, the CSSNS and CSMM discords for their encouragement and help with a title, and finally to @spartanguard​ for her INCREDIBLE and PERFECT art!!! I could iterally stare at all of it for HOURS!!!!

Chapter Summary: Over a century has passed and Killian makes his way to Pre-Revolutionary France.

Rating: M (Violence and smut)

Words: 4.4K of 41K total

Tags: Vampires, Soulmates, Reincarnation, Prophecy, Black Death, French Revolution, Magic, True Loves Kiss

Prologue | Ch1 | Ch2 | Ao3 chapter link | Ao3 fic link

Tag list: @hollyethecurious​ @winterbaby89​ @snowbellewells​ @stahlop​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @jennjenn615​ @kingofmyheart14​ @profdanglaisstuff​ @branlovestowrite​ @thisonesatellite​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @flslp87​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @let-it-raines​ @shireness-says​ @kymbersmith-90​ @darkcolinodonorgasm​ @bethacaciakay​ @searchingwardrobes​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @teamhook​ @aprilqueen84​ @qualitycoffeethings​ @superchocovian​ @artistic-writer​ @donteattheappleshook​ @doodlelolly0910​ @seriouslyhooked​ @tiganasummertree​ @lfh1226-linda​ @nikkiemms​ @xsajx​ @klynn-stormz​

Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed.

Under the cut unless Tumblr ate it.

A/N: While the chateau is made up, the description is based off of the Chateau de Montsoreau in the Loire Valley of France.

1786 France

Killian was finally making his way toward Paris after an inexplicable longing to come to the city had overtaken him while at sea ten years before. In his day, Paris had been one of the most prominent cities in all of Europe, but due to the religious wars between Catholics and Protestants, he and Liam had never been to the city. Why this compulsion had come upon him so unexpectedly, he had no idea. However, other priorities had prevented him from acting on that desire for many years. As the years passed, and the  preoccupation wouldn’t leave him, he eventually found himself docking in Marseille and turning his face toward Paris. He was about a day’s ride outside the city, when he stopped at a small village in the Loire valley for the night. Once he settled down in his bed, memories he hadn’t thought of in years poured over him.

After discovering his Swan’s death, he stayed with David, doing what he could to help and support his friend in their mutual loss. By the fall, David wanted to leave London to see how the rest of his family had fared during the outbreak. Returning to the family farm, David discovered that his father had passed not long after he and Mary Margaret had left, and that his siblings had not survived the dreaded disease. As much as losing Mary Margaret and Emma had affected him, with the knowledge that the only family he had left in this world were a few nieces and nephews that he had never known and their families, Killian was not at all surprised when he finally came down with and succumbed to the pestilence upon returning to London. With the blood tears in his eyes, Killian laid his friend to rest beside his beloved Mary Margaret, Emma, and Granny. Saying a quiet prayer over the family that he had come to think of as his own, Killian turned away and left London, never to return. Arriving back on the continent, he had wandered aimlessly for a few years, before the call of the sea again drew him back to his beloved Jolly Roger and life on the open water.

Why these memories crashed over him now, Killian couldn’t tell. He fell into dreams with the blood tears in his eyes.

~*~*~

After staying in the village for two weeks waiting on a new wardrobe, Killian awoke to bright sunlight pouring into his room. Rising from his bed, he made his way over to the wash basin near the door and splashed the cool water on his face. After dressing, he came down the stairs of the inn and greeted the proprietor.

“Good morning,” he said, seating himself at a table. A bar wench laid the standard breakfast, consisting of bol de cafe, a large cup of coffee with milk, and pain au lait, a rich breakfast bread, before him and hurried away. He dove into the hearty meal as he planned out his day. Upon arriving in the village, he decided that before heading into the city, it’d be prudent to obtain some new clothes. He may not be a prince anymore, but he thought it’d probably be better to be taken for a member of the nobility rather than a rogue and a scoundrel that his pirate attire attested to. Gold, for a pirate captain, wasn’t a problem, so he had ordered a completely new wardrobe. And today was the day it would be ready. He meandered down the center of the village, simply enjoying the cool spring morning and the sunshine. He could just see beyond the simple buildings in the town to the surrounding green landscape of the valley. The beauty was enough to take his breath away.

As he arrived at the tailor’s, a petite noblewoman, dressed in a gown of burgundy silk that brought out the hints of auburn the sunlight gave her dark hair, was just stepping down from her carriage. He held the door open for her as her eyes took in his appearance.

After a brief nod, she swept past him through the door. He followed her in to see her speaking animatedly to the tailor’s apprentice.

“No, young man,” the condescension dripping from the woman’s lips raised Killian’s ire. There wasn’t much in this world that made him angrier than people thinking themselves above others. “I have no objection to you showing me new fabrics and so on, but I must insist on your master being the one to take my measurements and personally make my dress. This is for a party at Versailles.” Killian may have once been a prince, but from his earliest days, his father had taught him the value of working among and serving the people of their kingdom. That everyone, regardless of station, was made in the image of God and was deserving of honor and respect. The difference between the attitude of the royal family in his kingdom and the nobility of France astounded him.

“Yes, Vicomtesse,” the man acquiesced. “But Monsieur Marco will be occupied for the next hour or so, outfitting the Prince d’Épinoy,” he gestured at Killian, “in the wardrobe that he has prepared.” The woman turned toward him with a more appraising eye this time than what she had bestowed on him earlier.

“Oh, don’t mind me, August,” Killian began, swallowing his anger, “I’m in no hurry. I can wait while Monsieur Marco takes Vicomtesse…” he trailed away, holding his hand out in invitation toward the woman.

“Vicomtesse Desmoulins,” the woman answered, placing her gloved hand into his. He raised it to his lips and brushed them along her knuckles.

“While Monsieur Marco takes Vicomtesse Desmoulins’ measurements,” he repeated.

The woman’s high cheekbones flushed pink with his declaration, and she dropped her eyes. “Prince?” she asked, a little breathlessly.

“Aye,” he replied, “At your service, Madame.”

“Thank you so much for your concession, Monseigneur,” she cooed before turning back toward August. “Well?” she questioned the young man again, “Where is Monsieur Marco? I insist on seeing him at once! I’m on a bit of a schedule.”

“R-R-Right away, Vicomtesse,” he stammered, turning toward the back of the shop. Killian stood stoically, his internal displeasure at the Vicomtesse’s attitude well hidden. As soon as August had departed behind the curtain, she turned toward him again. This time with an appraising glint in her eye that Killian didn’t appreciate one bit.

“So what brings you to our fair village, Monseigneur,” she purred, moving closer to him. Killian prided himself on being a good judge of character, even before his meeting Rumplestilskin. And now, living as long as he had, that skill had only been honed further. There was no doubt in his mind that the woman before him was a siren, beautiful to look at, and yet deadly if you get too close. Not wholly unlike himself.

“I’m on my way to Paris, Vicomtesse,” he answered her, with a small bow of his head, holding his ground. “I’ve never visited and I thought it was time to change that.”

“Oh, yes, Paris,” she exclaimed dreamily,  “Then I must insist on you coming and spending some time at our Chateau Havre-de-brume before joining us at Versailles. I’m sure that I could secure you a place at court.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” Killian tried to protest.

She waved away his objection. “Oh, nonsense,” she pooh-poohed. “It’s the least I can do after you so graciously allowed me to see Monsieur Marco first about my measurements. We leave for Versailles in a week’s time and you can join us at the Chateau until then, then travel with us to court.” It was clear that the woman was accustomed to getting what she wanted, and Killian was finding it difficult to contain his amusement at her assumptions. If only she knew exactly WHAT she was inviting into her home, he chuckled under his breath. “We will expect you this afternoon at 4 for tea, Monseigneur. Dinner will be served at 9 precisely.”

Just at that moment, Monsieur Marco came out from behind the curtain. “August informs me that you’re willing to wait for me to measure Vicomtesse Desmoulins before collecting your wardrobe, Sieur.” Killian nodded at the old man. “Very well, I’ll be ready for you after 2.”

“Until then, Monsieur,” he said, with a bow. “Vicomtesse Desmoulins, I’ll be pleased to join you at your home when I’ve concluded my business with Monsieur Marco.” With another bow toward the Vicomtesse, he spun on his heel, and left the shop.

~*~*~

Killian dismounted his horse later that afternoon and handed the reins along with a brief introduction to the lad that waited to attend to him in front of the Chateau Havre-de-brume, not far from the village. After seeing Monsieur Marco about his wardrobe, he had returned to the inn, changed into his new attire, and departed for the Chateau. He had no objection to spending a week with Vicomtesse Desmoulins and her family if it gave him a free place to stay and would make his entrance into Paris and the court of King Louis XVI easier.

A servant wearing the livery of the chateau opened the door. “The Prince d’Épinoy, I presume?” he asked.

“Yes, my good man.” Killian said with a small bow.

“Vicomtesse Desmoulins has been expecting you. Follow me please.” He turned from the door and led the way to a spiral staircase. Killian couldn’t help but notice the excellent stonework and ornamentation that lent an air of beauty and leisure to the chateau as he followed the servant onto the main floor and into the salon where his hostess waited. The salon was extremely large with huge fireplaces on either end of the room to keep the spring chill at bay. The large windows flooded the room with light as he approached the Vicomtesse, flanked by who could only be her husband and daughter.

“Ah, Monseigneur the Prince d’Épinoy,” she began, “allow me to introduce you to my husband, Vicomte Desmoulins and my older daughter, Regina.”

Killian gave a small bow of his head as he reached out his hand to greet the much older man, by appearance anyway, before him. “A pleasure to meet you, Vicomte.” He turned toward the young lady on the other side of his hostess. The beautiful young woman dropped into a curtsey before laying her hand in Killian’s outstretched one as he bowed over it, brushing his lips over the back of her hand.

Her cheeks flushed with pleasure as her eyes skittered away from his piercing blue gaze. The assessing gaze of her mother had a small smile ghosting across his lips as he straightened again before them. He had no doubt that the Vicomtesse was already contemplating a match between him and her daughter. She couldn’t be much younger than what he appeared to be- eighteen, nineteen, twenty at most.

“Please, be seated, Monseigneur,” his hostess invited. “Tea will be served momentarily.”

As Killian settled down where the Vicomtesse indicated and the Vicomte and Regina took their seats, the doors burst open when a girl of about nine or ten came blowing in with the force of a whirlwind, followed by a rather short and rotund woman clucking her tongue at the child.

“Maman, Papa,” she cried, “Johanna said that I couldn’t join you for tea today! Oh,” she exclaimed, as Killian turned toward her. “I- I’m sorry, Maman, I didn’t realize we had company.” She curtsied before him and Killian felt his mouth go dry. It was Emma. It was his golden haired Swan. Obviously younger than she was when he knew her, but the features were the same. The high cheekbones, rosebud mouth, button nose and pert chin, not to mention the long blonde hair and green eyes. But, how? Snapping his jaw shut, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the child. As she rose from her curtsey, her mother motioned the child to her side.

Gathering her in her arms, the Vicomtesse spoke gently to her. “This is Monseigneur the Prince d’Épinoy. You may call him Monseigneur.” Addressing Killian again, she continued, “Allow me to present my younger daughter, Emma.”

Dumbfounded, Killian extended his hand toward Emma. “It is a pleasure, Mademoiselle.”

“Generally, she would not join us for tea when we have visitors,” she gave a slightly disapproving look to her daughter, who looked sheepish in return while cutting her eyes toward her gouvernante, “but since she is already here, she may join us. Just this once.” She smiled indulgently, as Emma’s face broke into a grin to rival the sun.

Killian desperately tried to keep his turbulent thoughts hidden, as the tea was served. Soulmates unbound by time. Since his time in London, he had memorized every word of the prophecy and so easily recalled the line that had baffled him a century ago. He cut his eyes at Emma as she settled herself in her own seat. If he needed any further confirmation, he got it when he spied the birthmark on her neck. The same birthmark she had in her first life back in London. It was a second chance. They could have a second chance. He would have to bide his time until she was of marriageable age, but remembering what happened the last time he left her, he was reluctant to go that route. On the other hand, he had to keep her safe from Rumplestiltskin, too. There was still no doubt in his mind that the monster wouldn’t hesitate to kill her if who she was to Killian was revealed. He would have to keep his distance from the family, but close enough to satisfy himself that he wasn’t leaving her alone. Remaining at Court in Versailles would be perfect.

~*~*~

The week at the chateau passed by for Killian very pleasantly. Mornings were spent touring the estate with either the Vicomtesse or Mademoiselle Regina. Emma was too young to spend most of her day among the adults of the chateau, but when she didn’t join them for tea the next day, he made his desire for her presence known to the Vicomtesse. Since then, Emma was a daily participant in the afternoon ritual after her daily rest. It was a few days after he arrived at the chateau that he realized the compulsion to visit Paris, first felt all those years ago, was the soulmate connection. He was acutely aware of Emma’s presence whenever she was nearby, and when he was actually with her the connection he felt with her filled him with a joy that he hadn’t felt in a century. It must have come upon him shortly after her birth, but as something he’d never felt before, he didn’t recognize it for what it was.

As the days passed, the Vicomtesse found more and more reason to remove herself from Killian’s company and employ her daughter in the entertainment of their guest. Killian had trouble hiding his smirk as for the third day in a row, the Vicomtesse was suddenly pulled away on urgent business at the chateau leaving him to tour the stables with Regina, who couldn’t hide her eye roll and rosy blush as they continued toward the stables.

“Hmmmmm,” mused Killian, leaning in closer to his guide, “Do you think that perhaps your mother might be trying to get us to spend some time alone together?”

Regina’s blush intensified as she rolled her eyes again. “She’s very old fashioned in her thinking and is trying desperately to make me a suitable match. Which she obviously thinks you are.” Killian pulled open the door to the stable for his companion. She ducked her head in embarrassment, but was unable to hide the spark of excitement in her chocolate brown eyes as she proceeded him into the stables. As he entered behind her, they were quickly approached by a young man, about his own apparent age. Brown hair, neatly cut for a stable hand, swooped back over the crown of his head. He was a handsome man with fine, strong features. Arriving by Regina’s side, he had to clear his throat in order for the two young people to snap out of their own little world and acknowledge his presence. He couldn’t help his chuckle as Regina’s blush deepened even further and the young man before her looked startled at the addition of a third to their meeting.

“Daniel, may I present the Prince d’Épinoy. He is a guest at the chateau before we return to Versailles at the end of the week.”

Killian gave a small bow to the man before him. “It’s a pleasure, sir.”

Regina turned back toward him, while keeping her eyes on Daniel. “Daniel is the stable master and will be preparing the horses for us this morning.”

“Ah, yes,” Daniel began, “You must be the owner of Nox. I must say, he is a magnificent animal, Sieur.” He turned away from them and led them toward the far end of the stables. Killian couldn’t help the pride that swelled in him at the high praise the stable master had for the animal. Daniel chuckled to himself. “He wouldn’t let anyone near him except me. Not that I mind. It’s a privilege to work with such an exceptional and beautiful horse.”

“Thank you, monsieur.” Killian looked around the immaculately kept stable and took in the obvious good health and well being of the other animals in their stalls. “That is high praise coming from someone of your obvious expertise.” Killian followed him until Nox poked his head out of his stall and whinnied in greeting. Killian reached into his coat pocket for an apple that he had brought from the kitchens as he began stroking the lustrous midnight black coat of his prized stallion. He nickered in pleasure as he chomped down on the tasty treat as they waited for Daniel to attend to Regina’s horse, Rocinante. Once Regina was mounted and ready, Killian opened the door of the stall and Daniel led Nox out with the lead rope.

Once he was mounted, Killian and Regina left the stable. Killian’s thoughts turned toward the young woman at his side. It was quite obvious to him that Regina loved Daniel. And Daniel certainly seemed to return her affections. But he was perceptive enough to know that the Vicomtesse would never approve of such a match. Not with the way she was doing all in her power to foster affection between himself and her daughter. She obviously loved both of her daughters very much, but she was also shrewd and calculating. A suitable match for Regina would be someone of the nobility with a high status at court. Anyone deemed lesser than their own station would never be considered.

“Tell me, Mademoiselle,” Killian began, hesitantly, “just who is the stable master to you?” He looked over as a soft blush colored her cheeks. He waited patiently as she seemed reluctant to share. After her earlier revelation, he wanted to make sure that she knew that he had no interest in her mother’s machinations to secure a match between them. Thoughts had already begun to tickle the edge of his mind of how he might be able to help the young lovers, if she deigned to trust him.

Regina cleared her throat as they cantered along. “Why do you ask, Monseigneur?”

“I’m simply observant, lass.” Killian clicked his tongue at Nox, changing their direction as Regina led them on a more southeasterly track toward the chateau’s vineyards. “I couldn’t help but notice the way you both looked at each other when we first entered the stable. As if you two were the only ones in the world.” He fell silent for a moment as memories washed over him. “I’ve only seen that kind of look once before. On the faces of dear friends who were very much in love. True Love, if you ask me.”

“Were?” she asked, looking at him.

“Aye, were,” he replied, sadly. “They’ve been gone many years. Taken far too soon.”

“How old were you,” she asked, softly.

Killian immediately realized his mistake. Speaking of the close friendship he had with David and Mary Margaret in the past tense, when he only appeared to be in his very early twenties, would naturally confuse Regina.

Killian scratched behind his ear as he scrambled for what to say. “Ah, let’s just say,” he began, nervously, “that I’m much older than I look.”

Regina laughed. “Well, how old are you then?”

Killian waggled his eyebrows at her. “Older than I look. That’s all you need know.”

Regina huffed. “Okay, fine then.” They continued their ride through the green of the valley. Before they had gone much farther, Killian tried to draw her out again.

“You never answered my question, Mademoiselle. Who is the stable master to you?” He looked at her again as she struggled to hide her thoughts from his perceptive gaze. She glanced toward him, her dark eyes piercing, clearly trying to see if she could trust him. Perhaps he should give her a reason to. “As I said, Mademoiselle, I am much older than I look. I have traveled far, seen and done many things. Dark things. Things that could prove advantageous to your particular situation.”

Shock plainly registered across her features. “What do you mean? What situation?”

Killian stopped his horse and looked directly at the young woman. “A situation where you feel trapped.” She cast her furrowed brow down toward her lap. “I am not far off the mark, am I, when I say that your mother would never approve of a match with your Daniel. That she would forcibly keep you right here, controlling you, making you into a carbon copy of herself, with all her ambitions for a higher station at court resting on your shoulders.” His piercing gaze rested on her as she lifted her gaze to him again. He watched the blood drain from her face.

“How could you possibly know all that?” she whispered.

He reached over and gently took her hand in his own. “I am not of this world, Mademoiselle. Trust me when I say that I can help you. I have the means and the desire. But, you must trust me.”

~*~*~

Regina looked down at their joined hands. The confusion, and yes, fear, she felt at their guest’s revelations were hard to rein in. Not of this world. What did he mean? He had only been at their home for a short time, but in that time, he’d been nothing but a gentleman toward all the members of her family. His clear affection for her beloved younger sister was particularly gratifying. Somehow she knew that she could trust him with this secret, but that didn’t make it any easier to actually tell him.

“Yes,” she whispered, looking up at him again. “I love Daniel. And he loves me. His father died last winter, leaving him as the stable master. He’s been here with me as long as I can remember. He’s the one who taught me to ride.” She lowered her gaze again as she felt her cheeks flush at the memories that now poured from her lips. “We’ve been friends our entire lives. But last spring, that changed. We’ve had to be very discreet in our liaisons so that Mother wouldn’t catch us.”

She looked up at her companion again. His gentle gaze and soft smile prompted one of her own. “We’d love nothing more than to be together, but with Mother trying to force us together, Versailles imminent, and his new position here at the chateau, I don’t know how it would be possible,” she cried.

He released her hands and knickered to his horse to get them moving again. “You leave that to me. I’ll play the dutiful suitor between now and then, culminating with a fake engagement,” he ruminated, waggling his eyebrows at her, prompting a giggle from her. ”When we return to the chateau to plan a wedding, I’ll have all the arrangements made for you and Daniel to be together. Now, how can I help you between now and our journey to court?”

She cantered briskly to catch up with him. “You’d help me? Help us? Why?”

He laughed. A bitter, brittle thing that told of pain and despair beyond measure. “Let’s just say that I have a soft spot for those trapped in circumstances that they have no control over.” She couldn’t see his face, but she could imagine the storm clouds covering his visage with that statement. It was so desperate, so hopeless, that she felt her own heart go out to him. What kind of circumstances did he feel trapped in? Somehow she knew that she would never be privy to that information.

She caught up with him and gently placed her hand on his arm. “Thank you. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you. But if there’s anything that I can do for you, you need only name it.”

His lips lifted in a soft smile. He patted her hand and looked up into her eyes again. His blue eyes were clear now. Clear as a summer sky. “Thank you, my dear. As we will be spending some time together in the coming months, fake courting and all, I would like for you to call me Killian.”

She could feel her cheeks flush again. “Then I must insist on you calling me Regina. It will make Mother think that we are getting closer. Which can only be good for keeping Daniel a secret from her.”

“Indeed. I’ll arrange for you to be my guide and companion for these last few days before we leave for Versailles, and you can meet Daniel without fear.”

The joy that exploded in her heart at his words could not be contained and a girlish giggle erupted from her lips. She dug her heels into Rocinante’s sides and took off toward the vineyards at a gallop with her new friend galloping behind, laughing along with her.

[borisbubbles]

17. CZECH REPUBLIC

Benny Christo - “Kemama”

So first off, thank you for the nice commens. 😇The past few months haven’t been the happiest time for me, so thank you for your patience as I scraped my bearings together for another post! 😁

So I will now extend that same sympathy to Benny Christo, whom I think I damn fucking underrated. Let’s jump in~

ENTRY ANALYSIS

As one may expect i INSTANTLY liked “Kemama” because you know, it’s a fun, laid-back, tropical afro-breeze, completely different from anything else we would see in NFs and the year. EXACTLY the type of song I was hoping the Czech NF would deliver (and deliver they did, see NF Corner). This level of mild like swung into strong unironic like upon realizing that the title is a contraction of “Okay Mother” 😍 and the song deals with the subject of overcoming racially-tinged discrimination and rising above the hate. That just feels very poetic and apt? “Kemama” felt like the entry that had to overcome the highest odds in order to earn the respect it so fully deserves, and still hasn’t fully reached it.

.In our Western European bubble, comprised mostly of gays and left-liberal straights, we have a very grateful and universal acceptance of many different kinds of [lizard] people that make up Eurovision casts. Yet with “Kemama” we may have reached  an unusually grimy undercurrent of coded racism. 

Of course nothing I read was outrageously rancid, than Cod for that. The worst statement I read was a double-whammy of “EWW THIS ISN’T CARIBBEANVISION” and “WHY WOULD SOMEONE FROM *KENYA* WANT TO REP CZECHIA IN EUROVISION?”, and yes they first got the continent wrong and then *also* got the country wrong in the follow-up post and then they were torn limb from limb by a pack of aformentioned left-liberals. I’m sorry but i can’t not have any other response than laughter in the face of yet another fucking MORON faceplanting themselves with words like a... racist JK Rowling if you will?

Still, while I never read something outright vile about Benny doesn’t mean I found his deniers really annoying and they were! Think “Ew Solovey is ‘Too Aggressive’ it will NEVER DO WELL IN ESC”, a statement that isn’t coded nor racist (and yet extremely false and misguided), functioned as a similar idea by the same minds. A statement borne from the same breed of narrow-minded stubbornness which has caused elitist morons to be all “there is **SOMETHING** about “Kemama” i do *NOT* like and I cannot lay my finger on it... but I **DO NOT** like it at ALL. It won’t ever qualify because everyone will think the same way I do” -- Eurovision snobs, tiptoeing around racial coda in January 2020.

 They would also insist that Benny was “arrogant” because he was seemingly impervious to their (de)constructive criticism. Like, if you were a biracial butterfly living in a slavic country who had to deal with statements such as the above on a regular basis, you WOULD block out the noise. And if you heard them often enough you will start to block them out pre-emptively. DO YOU NOT KNOW HOW COPING MECHANISMS WORK?? (oh wait you’re white-privileged. Nevermind 🙄)

 So naturally, when Benny decided that he would revamp “Okay Mother” by adding in MORE African elements it only made me love him even more lol. 😍 Was it a bull-headed, contrarian and possibly really stupid decision? Yes, yes and absolutely yes. Was it worth it? Well he managed to incite even more meltdowns in a group of people I feel nothing but contempt for, so hell yeah? Eurovision was cancelled anyway so who cares how much ‘worse’ “Kemama” actually got. 

Okay, so we’ve arrived at the revamp.

Granted, it wasn’t the best ‘vamp, I’d be a fool to deny it. The new elements threw a wrench in the melodic balance of the song. Out went tropical laid-back fun, IN went that fucking guitar oh my god this is some Hotel FM piano levels of overbearing I swear. (nb: this still didn’t stop me from ironically stanning Hotel FM’s lame asses anyway 😍). However, it made the personal backstory that I loved and savoured take a backseat to the now inferior composition. 😭

Regardless, New Kemama was fundamentally the same song, and I fundamentally liked Old Kemama, so whatevs, it made no different to me. In the eyes of many Eurovision diehards we were experiencing WORST PRESHOW SEASON EVER (after three songs... lol) and nothing clinches this brainworm more than a revamp announcement. “OH MY GOD HE WILL RUIN IT! I CAN GUARANTEE YOU I *WON’T* LIKE IT”. Self-fulfilling prophecies, ya know? It certainly didn’t help when the official channel accidentally uploaded a vid with broken soundmixing (‘OMG HORRIBLE LAST IN THE SEMI!!!!’ calm the ever-loving HELL down) and took another FULL WEEK to upload the correct vid. The damage had already been done. Typing "SEE I TOLD YOU THE REVAMP WOULD BE SHITE HA HA HA” in the Kemama comment box really just is the ESC equivalent of reponding with “Actually, *all* lives matter :smug:” to a BLM support pamphlet, isn’t it?

NF CORNER

While not my favourite NF of the bunch, I found the Czech NF to be lowkey epic. Not epic enough to remember its name but regardless Czechvision or whatever marked the end of an era because it was also the last selection spearheaded by Jan Bors :o

I think I’ve made it clear enough in the past that I’m somewhat mixed on Bors Era Czechia - Lake Malawi were a toetapping good, Ickolas was a pockmarked, skin-crawling evil and the other three inhibit a purgatory somewhere between “moderately nice” and “moderate timewaste.”

Still, I have great respect for the man who orchestrated Czech’s comeback after scoring NINE POINTS TOTAL across three years with the mindset of “So what? Why says we can’t win?” so ofc I was all into the idea of the “EIGHT INDIE ANGELS, HAND-PICKED BY BORS HIMSELF” NF that would serve as his swan song.

Naturally things went down the drain the second Bors left, with one of the eight peacing and his successor cancelling the live broadcast (does anyone remember what exactly happened? I vaguely recall one was the cause of the other but lol it’s July can’t be bothered to factscheck (Factsczeck?) anymore, bitches.

Anyway, ON TO THE GOOD STUFF, and yes, there was plenty.

We All Poop - “ All the Blood (Positive Song Actually)”

Yes, as you can imagine I ofc IMMEDIATELY fell into like when I saw that chyron and invisioned the inevitability of the Czech Rep’s Rep immediately alienating every parent just based on their name alone <3 😍 w/e WAP quickly became that “Good but not great” song you find in every NF that everyone gushes over because it’s the whitest option available. Like, yes, “All the blood” is good, but musically it’s identical to Green Day and Twenty-One Pilots and god name ANY 90s-early00′s American Punk Rock band. For me the enjoyment came from the fact that WAP were openly crazy vegan fundamentalists and the VC clip actively condemns the use ANY animal protein by replacing the cattle and game with LITERAL HUMAN BEINGS. 😍 :fusedmarcintensifies: :kasiamosage:

Pam Rabbit - “Get up”

Ohhhh YES a glorious experimental Synth-Trap song only I could love and ofc I did. God what is there even to say; the provocative darkness of the verses combined with the swirling amorphousness of the chorus gives me LIFE. LUFF THIS SHIT <3333 Ftr, this was also the fave of Slovene Juror duo / synth angels / Boris faves ZALAGASPER, further proving their pathetic naysayers that they own all things music and the haters can suck a series of-

Barbora Mochowa - “White and Black Holes“

Lol, yes even with a “Get up” existing, there was a song I liked even more. Barbora proved a very competent Lana del Gay last year, but I was a YUGE fan of this year’s... Kate Bush-Björk blend of ethereal awesome. It is so soothingly beautiful and the rare example of a song that I find completely free of flaws. Were the competition not such a hard place, I’d be pissed she didnt win (at least she won the jury vote MASSIVE KUDOS to every alum on that) but w/e this selection had opions and I’m rather robbed of a “Kemama” than I am of a BRILLIANT IRREPLICABLE AETHERBALLAD. ~Danse balance sûr les white and black holes~

Elis Mraz & Cis T - “Wanna be like”

I *VERY* strongly felt that if the Czech Republic wanted to win ESC, they should have picked Elis and even now I STILL believe she could have won. That isn’t to say I gushed over “Wanna be like” because I find it kind of annoying lol. Yes, I LOVE an annoying female voice (:Tones&Icackle:) but Elis’s reaches a Camilla Cabello sort of place for me (good lord get Senorita OFF the fucking radio) and the Scat + White Guy Rapping middle-eight. 😬. However, the second I opened up the video clip for this paragraph and was immediately BLASTED by Elis murdering a ukelele and wearing a  “schoolgirl” outfit straight from a Japanese tentacle porn movie and OH MY GOD THE AGGRESSIVE TWERKING made me reconsider that hey, this min-sized Meghan Traynor actually kinda highkey owns, yo!  Yet, I’m not at all bothered we lost her in the Czech NF because we got UNO DOS QUATRO CINCO SEIS :fatmansplit: fill up the megameme slot instead, so...

Eurovision 2020 vs Eurovision 2021

BENNY RUINED HIS SONG AND NEVER WOULD HAVE QUALIFIED. jk I’m not a moron. Sure, “Kemama” wasn’t an easy sell because you know AFROBEAT in a contest where half of the people watching are fash (ie: all of Eastern Europe, who watch out of ~Nationalistic Sentiment~ 😬), but there are Kemama live renditions out there and he owns them SO hard lol. A few soundmixing issues really would not have stopped Benny from qualifying in that RIDICULOUSLY WEAKSAUCE SEMIFINAL are you fucking kidding me. He probably would’ve bombed in the Grand Final, but I mean it’s Czech and it’s not Ickolas so ofc it would have.

And Czech renewed him for 2021 regardless of the sceptics, woohoo! I think part of it was due the Czech not wanting to re-organize an ENTIRE NF from scratch without Jan Bors, but probably also because Benny owns live when he isn’t engaged in psychological trench warfare with actual human detritus <3 and also because the Czech fucking CARE about their artists and don’t drop them like a sack of rotten potatoes wtfshitprus.

Can’t wait for the moment when he qualifies and Efendi does not, etc, etc. 

FREAKY! FRIDAY! FACTOR!

I’d say that the core around which the Ben Drama spun was pretty standard fare: niche fave beats out the concensus fave, meltdowns ensue, people convince themselves it was the WRONG decision because it wasn the result they wanted, try to disown the song and make a fool of themselves because the song slaps, sorry. Even the revamp drama felt more of less generic for me, because yawn fantards melting down over a revamp of a song they don’t even like what else is new.  

However, what I do take away that the revamp was ENTIRELY Benny’s idea which he told no one about (cue to JAN BORS having a social media meltdown like he’s Caesar at the Ides of March 💔) added MORE afrobeat just to troll his haters even more <3  God, I’d say it was bad from a musical perspective but this level of in-your-face defiance is fucking iconic and hilarious, sorry. This entire this year is so batshit bonkers that the concept of a someone potentially shooting themselves in the foot and “torpedo’ing” their qualification chances  (not rly, he would’ve Q’d anyway lol) JUST to take the moral high ground in a racially coded argument only HE took seriously may not even be the craziest concept in the year! (lol it definitely isn’t. Look at the pics I haven’t greyed out yet)

This and more yield Benny some well-earned Senheads! Yay!! 

Score: 3 Senhits out of 5.

[writers-leir]

e7!soulweaver!seokmin

oh man it’s been literal years

i’m so sorry that i haven’t posted anything in like three years or something and then i come back and the first thing i post isn’t even a request it’s me coping from mobile games

i’ll try and start writing regularly again aaaaaaaaa (๑•́ω•̀๑)

seokmin e7! au

because i basically sold my tear ducts to try and get dizzy and it’s been like 6 days but i’m still uncertain how i feel about the fact that there was only 16 summons left before the pity guarantee

okay before we get to seokmin let’s start with you!

you come from a family of soul weavers

but like

a really big family of soul weavers

as in your sister works really closely with angelica and the other people from the holy order of the blue cross

your brother was basically one of the front line soul weavers during the second fight against the archdemon

and your parents had been in taranor supporting the knights when the nocturnes sacrificed themselves to seal the archdemon in the first battle before the heir of the covenant had awoken

you,,,,,,,are not a soul weaver

you’re a mage

and it’s not supposed to be that big of a deal in your opinion like at least you can still fight for your home right?

your family is less than pleased

you’re the youngest child of two parents who worked beside diene

your brother works beside krau in taranor and your sister works with angelica

even your cousins are amazing soul weavers in their own right

your parents and your aunts and uncles always act as if you’ve committed a crime against them whenever they talk about you

they even tell you how your grandparents would be disappointed in you as if it was your decision to be a mage and not a soul weaver?

your cousins and siblings are more sympathetic towards you and they try their best to make you feel better

since your family is situated in ezera your brother often asks you if you want to move to taranor to be away from them

you’ve got cousins from all around the continent who ask you the same thing

you don’t know what to say? because yes on one hand if you moved to taranor or reingar or somewhere else you’d interact with your parents much less

but on the other hand,,,,,,,,,,,it still didn’t feel like you’d be far enough?

like you felt that even if you moved to a different continent you’d still be too close to them

your sister actually managed to pull some strings and you’ve been training with some mages for a few months now

besides your brother no one else in your family knows

you always wondered when you might finally be able to escape your family and that time comes,,,,,,,not completely by surprise

your brother gets a few weeks off to spend time with family and he decides that instead of spending that time with his family like he’s supposed to,,,,,,,,he’s going to go travelling

you both somehow manage to convince your parents to let you go with him

the night you leave is emotional to say the least

your sister isn’t stupid, she knows that you’re planning on taking this chance to run away and disappear

so your goodbyes with her are full of whispered voice cracks and trying not to burst into tears

your parents don’t bother saying much to you other than reminding you to not cause your brother trouble

your travels takes you all the way to the solayu forest

your brother originally planned on continuing on towards taranor but he’s also never seen duselnorc so you both decide to take a detour and do a circle back after seeing the region

as you’re going through north wetheric moor to return towards taranor though, you two encounter way more unknown than you’d be comfortable with

you and your brother end up being saved by two individuals, a girl with big blonde curls and a guy with dark hair and a friendly smile

the girl introduces herself as lidica and the boy introduces himself as seokmin

you and your brother recognize lidica and she ends up telling you that after she had left the rose apostles she joined this group called the phantom cic

you’re instantly interested because this seemed just like the opportunity you’ve been waiting for

as lidica and seokmin lead you and your brother to meet their leader, you start conversing with the two, learning about what they do and how their group functions

they tell you about what class they are (lidica being a ranger and seokmin being a soul weaver) ((you’re a little bitter when you find out that seokmin had come from a regular merchant family and just seemed to be a natural))

they also tell you a little bit about the other members of the group (sez who’s still learning how to be human, bellona who ran from home, much like you, and aramintha who is their leader)

when you first meet the other three you’re intimidated and your brother is more than uncomfortable with you possibly joining the group

you talk to aramintha for a bit, telling her about how you come from a family of renowned soul weavers but you were the only mage and how you left to try and escape from them

aramintha agrees to let you join them, but not before making sure that you’re absolutely certain because this is dangerous work

your brother leaves after that, promising to send letters

life after that feels good

you spend a lot of time with the rest of the members and become good friends with bellona

you’re normally sent out with bellona or lidica as support

sometimes you’ll be sent out with sez but you’re not the best at keeping him from raging

also because he once went way ahead of you and you got lost

(bellona had teased you about it for days after that)

you’re also (almost) never sent out with seokmin since you’re both better at support

sometimes you think about how different your life might be if you had never been saved by lidica and seokmin and you can say with complete confidence that you probably would have hated every day of your life

you exchange letters with your brother regularly and through those letters you manage some form of communication with your sister

you just feel like it’d be a little too risky to be sending her letters when your parents could easily find them

out of all the members of the group, you become closest with seokmin, ironically

you tell him about your family and why you left and in return he tells you about how he was never expected to be anything great since his family was just a regular merchant family and how proud his parents were when he decided to leave to try and make the world a better place

you’re a little jealous of how supportive and loving his family sounds but you don’t tell him since the last thing you want is for him to feel bad for having a supportive family

the two of you, despite being the weakest possible combination in terms of offence, actually work really well together

you both respect each other an insane amount since you both have somewhat similar backgrounds

neither of you had much of a chance to make a name for yourselves in your class and yet both of you are here today, fighting to make something of yourselves

it’s because you have such a huge amount of respect for seokmin that you’re 100% sure that the feelings you have for him are purely admiration and respect

bellona disagrees but she digresses

you get a letter one day from your brother telling you that your parents are starting to look for you

the letter details that they’re looking for you so that they can marry you off to some noble and gain some more social standing (especially since there have been rumours that their younger child, the only one in their family who is not a soul weaver, had run away from home)

apparently your parents had been somewhat keeping up their public image by claiming that you had gone off to travel the continent (which was,,,,,,,not completely false)

when bellona hears about this she promises you that if you didn’t want to be married off she’d do everything in her power to prevent it

especially since she understands your situation better than any of the other members

when you ask aramintha for advice she just shrugs and tells you that you are an adult and can make decisions for yourself

you write back to your brother and ask him to tell your parents that you weren’t planning on returning and being married off and that you were happy with what you were doing

you’re extremely surprised when your aunt turns up out of nowhere with armin and kluri, mercenaries who you had met back when you were travelling with your brother

she tells you that you really don’t have a choice but to agree to this marriage and that you should be honoured to be doing something for your family

you tell her that you don’t plan on returning, especially not to be married off to some noble

your aunt is, predictably, furious

she opens her mouth to continue speaking when seokmin cuts in

“sorry ma’am, but they’re already married to me”

what he says sends both you and your aunt into shock, and she eventually shakes her head and tells you that your parents will be hearing about this and they won’t be happy about it before turning and leaving

you’re still in shock so when seokmin lets out a laugh and goes “whew, what a day!” all you can do is gape at him

you finally snap out of it and thank him

he laughs it off before turning bashful, mumbling something about “out of order” and “wasn’t expecting that to happen today”

you can sort of make sense of what he’s saying so you question him

“seokmin,,,,perhaps, were you thinking about asking me out?”

he laughs, in embarrassment you suppose, before confirming your suspicions and apologizing for what he had done out of the blue

you tell him that you’d like that and maybe he’d like to join you when you go visit your brother?

bellona and aramintha are elated when they find out that you and seokmin have begun seeing each other

sez is a little confused but he still gives his congratulations when the others do

you end up taking matters into your own hand and end up sending a letter to the noble and tell them that you are, unfortunately, unavailable for marriage

you suppose your parents will probably burst with anger when they find out, but you can’t find it in yourself to care

when you and seokmin go to taranor to visit your brother, he’s extremely excited to hear about what you’ve been doing and that you’ve turned down the noble

he’s still a little nervous about you staying with the phantom cic to which seokmin just says that there’s nothing to worry about and how “you won’t find another soul weaver as good as me out there!” (to which your brother mumbles that “i’m sure you’re right”)

you back him up, telling your brother that it’s true, seokmin is the best soul weaver you know

to which your brother lets out an offended noise and tells you that he’s going to be telling your sister you said that

you laugh, and you don’t think you’ve ever felt so light and free of familial pressure than you did at that moment

[thelawyerthatwaspromised]

Can you tell me why you ship Jonsa in a political light rather than romantic?

Thanks for the ask!

So this question could have been asked from a couple different perspectives. I think you are asking why I focus so much on the political side of Jonsa rather than the romantic side? Either that or you’re asking why I ship Jonsa for political reasons when you might think that I don’t ship them for romantic reasons. I’m pretty sure you meant the first thing but either way my answer would look about the same so here we go!

First and foremost, Jonsa makes political sense (never a bad time to self-promote older metas, right??)

https://thelawyerthatwaspromised.tumblr.com/post/167528285911/why-does-jonsa-make-complete-political-sense

https://thelawyerthatwaspromised.tumblr.com/post/167559101411/jonsa-makes-political-sense-pt-2

TLDR of these;

Daenerys is left with very little support from the political players left in Westeros after losing Dorne and the Reach (and Yara). Once RLJ goes public, she’ll no longer have the “I am the rightful heir!” argument to lean on, not that it was ever that great of an argument as her claim rests on her father, the Mad King.

This same argument does apply to Jon too, but what Jon has that differentiates him from Dany is the loyalty of the remaining “players” of the game and he is the only way the North can ever be united (or, at the very least at peace) with the southern kingdoms. 

So we compare character loyalties in relation to Jon and Dany:

Jon > Dany for Theon - Iron Islands, if Yara survives, it was Jon who Theon turned to for sanctioning the mission for Yara

Jon > Dany for Gendry - Obviously Gendry needs legitimized but he’s the only character we know from the Stormlands and there was a lot of paralleling Jon as Young Ned and Gendry as Young Robert AND we have Gendry as a possible suitor for Arya Stark

Jon > Dany for Samwell Tarly - Jon is Sam’s best friend. Dany also executed Sam’s father and brother for refusing to bend the knee. (Yes, it was for their refusal to bend the knee as she offered a “pardon” for their treason, it had nothing to do with revenge for Olenna)

Jon > Dany for Sansa - This ought to be pretty obvious but here’s why Sansa’s support matters and how it adds to Jonsa politically...

Because Sansa holds as much support politically as Jon in this scenario.

[more after the cut]

Sansa > Dany for Edmure Tully

Sansa > Dany for the Vale - Robyn rules but Royce holds the influence and he specifically said he rode North for Sansa

Sansa > Dany for Theon - The Iron Islands really are the most speculative at the moment I suppose but it’s hard to argue that Theon has closer ties to Dany versus either one of Jon or Sansa and the two together representing the house that RAISED Theon speaks volumes.

The show has forgotten about Dorne so I can’t even speculate on Dorne but I think it’s pretty safe to say that Ellaria probably regrets linking up with Dany for Season 7. 

So there’s where it makes sense in that way. Jon and Sansa present an opportunity to present a king and a queen in a way that places each party with equal importance in reconciling a broken continent. 

The wildcard is the Westerlands with Tyrion/Jaime as the only likely characters left to rule there (assuming Cersei meets her demise). Tyrion showed all kinds of interesting reactions to Dany at the end of the season to the point where it’s widely speculated that he’s arranged some sort of betrayal on Cersei’s behalf. 

I’m more of the opinion that Tyion doubts Dany and turning to Cersei makes zero sense. Tyrion would need to be working to put someone in charge that Tyrion believes could actually improve the world...and we saw Jon giving speeches that Tyrion would have been more than willing to co-sign during his interactions with Dany. If Tyrion turns, it might involve Cersei, but it will be for Jon’s benefit.

Lastly, we were shown Sansa’s growing administrative acuity during Season 7 in a way that can’t be ignored as a narrative thread. She’s been exposed to the nuts and bolts of governing. She hasn’t been shown inciting riots and generally failing to connect with her ruled population. The pairing is set up with Jon as the military man and Sansa as the ruling lady. 

They are complementary pieces. A king and queen who need and trust each other. That’s a winning combination.

Now you might ask yourself; why do I focus on this aspect so much?

It’s because, at this moment, speculating on a Jon and Sansa romance really is just that; speculation.

You can try to quantify certain aspects of their dynamic:

https://thelawyerthatwaspromised.tumblr.com/post/166262551761/jon-statistically-acts-way-different-around

But you still are stuck in a subjective conclusion if you say that Jon and Sansa will have (or already have) romantic feelings for each other because we just haven’t explicitly seen it yet. 

The political aspect? Much less subjective, much easier to map out...

The pragmatism, coupled with our canon example of Catelyn and Ned marrying originally for political reasons but ultimately growing into a loving and respectful marriage, makes Jonsa the combination that can provide a parallel that both echoes the past but also solves a lot of problems at the same time. I think the bonus is that Jon and Sansa will feel very strong romantically about each other and so their “growing love” phase will much much shorter than Cat and Ned.

The alternative arrangement (Jon and Dany) absolutely must have Jon as a part of it AND absolutely must have Sansa persuading the forces that are logically loyal to her to be loyal to Jon (and Daenerys).

The most common argument against is old “politics won’t matter”.

Frankly, if that’s the argument you want to use, that’s even more confirmation that Jonsa is the correct answer. Politics will always matter in universe of ASOIAF and the Jonsa politics are infinitely more logical.

[bonneyq]

His Love, His Queen

Also on [AO3] 

This story has some mature content.

The moment she opened the door and looked into his eyes, Daenerys knew.

She knew he wasn’t there to talk about battles, or alliances, or dead men coming for them, or of things that gave people nightmares. No, Jon Snow knocked on her door that night because he wanted her. And gods, she wanted him.

Without unlocking their eyes, Daenerys opened the door a bit more in clear permission and Jon stepped inside her cabin, closing the door. Daenerys’ heart was beating like crazy inside her chest, she tried to keep her emotions under control but when Jon stepped closer to her, slowly as if he was afraid of spooking her (spook a dragon, what a thought). Her breath got stuck in her throat when he put a hand on her cheek and leaned in.

Jon stopped right before their lips met, always honorable and giving her a chance to say no or to pull back. As if Daenerys would deny him. Perhaps she should, it was reckless of them to want each other so much, their judgement became clouded.

Finally joining their lips, Jon pulled her closer to him and Daenerys felt her body just surrender completely to him. The way he kissed her, with firm tenderness for a long time, made her dizzy, made her drunk on him, made her want more. Made her feel as if she was fire itself.

She was the first to tug on his clothes, trying her best not to stop kissing him. She wanted to have his lips on hers as long as they could.

Undressing took longer than either of them wanted it to because of their leathers, but the moment they stood in front of each other, naked, Jon reached for her again. Daenerys kissed him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders when she felt his hands roam from her waist to her ass and down on the back of her thighs, pulling her up to him.

Jon held her as if she weighted nothing at all and when he lied her down on the bed, he did it so gently it took Daenerys a moment to acknowledge the fact, but then his body was atop of hers and nothing else mattered anymore.

Trailing down kisses down to her throat to her cleavage, Jon was taking his time while driving Daenerys crazy, especially when one of his hands cupped one breast, making her sigh.

When his hand was replaced with his mouth on her breast, Daenerys had to bite down her lip in order to keep quiet or at least, try.

She couldn’t keep quiet when she felt his hand travel from her side until it reached between her legs, where she was already wet and throbbing in desire for him. His caress was slow, but sure and it only served to boil Daenerys’ blood even more.

“Jon.” She whispered and it was all he needed before sliding a finger inside her, moving it a few times before adding another which made her sigh when he pumped them a few times, brushing a special spot inside her a few times, making her moan softly, needy for him.

Daenerys pushed Jon so he lied on his side and kissed him, her own hand between them to find his shaft already standing for attention. She curled her finger around him and the growl he made sent fire between her legs where his fingers still touched her.

With slow strokes, Daenerys kept touching him until Jon removed his hand from between her legs and moved hers from himself.

“Daenerys.” Jon said and she didn’t let him say anything else, wanting him too much to speak, then, so she kissed him. He put a hand under her knee and threw her leg over his hips

Jon slid inside her slowly, thrusting a few times, eyes locked and there was nothing else in the world but Jon. At that moment she was just a woman and he was just a man.

He rolled them so she was on her back and he was on top of her, their lips locked together as Jon thrusted inside her a few times just to stop for a few seconds to look at her.

Looking into his eyes, Daenerys felt complete. She never felt that way before, never like that. Jon looked at her as if she was the most precious thing he had ever seen, he looked at her as if she was the very air he needed to breathe, as if she was the only person in his world.

He was trying to memorize her expression, she was sure of it because she wanted to do the same thing.

Daenerys was no blushing bride but at that moment, she was experiencing something unique, something that made her feel vulnerable. She fell in love with him without even noticing.

Kissing her again, Jon started to move faster and suddenly Daenerys couldn’t contain her moans anymore and let herself be taken by him.

#

Daenerys woke up slowly and oddly satisfied; she was warm under the heavy furs and she could feel a comforting weight on her back. She blinked slowly with the dim light and after a moment, she finally recognized her cabin at one of her ships. Glancing at the window, she could see it was still dark outside and she thought about going back to sleep once again but a slight movement from behind her caught her attention.

She couldn’t have stopped her heart from beating faster even if she wanted to when she saw Jon Snow lying next to her, his messy curls quite a sight having escaped from its tie during the night – her own hair had become loose, too. He was lying on his stomach, the furs covering just from the half of his back down, his face away from her but his arm was over her lower back as if to guarantee she was there.

He must’ve felt her gaze because he moved and then he was facing her, still asleep and she could appreciate his sleeping face. It should’ve been a crime to have a slightly swollen face with marks from the pillow and still look so handsome. Not that Daenerys could complain about it at all. She gently touched the lines on his face, mapping them.

Daenerys knew she wouldn’t get enough of him. His voice, his hands, his sweet touches, his mouth, his eyes. With how they met, she wouldn’t have thought they would end up as they were at the moment.

Jon had been good, but it was clear she had more experience than him and that knowledge made Daenerys' heart beat faster for some stupid possessive reason.

It wasn't perfect and it didn't mean it wasn't good; hells, no. Physically, it was very satisfying but it went much farther than that, it was a strong connection she never felt before and if she read

Jon had accidentally slipped from inside her two times, they took a few moments to find their rhythm but when they did, Daenerys couldn't breathe right. Jon made her feel like a silly young girl sleeping with a man for the first time

Jon Snow touched her as if she was the most precious thing in the world, not because she was a queen, but because there was another way he could think of touching her.

She had more experience, yes, but in that cabin, she was just as nervous as he was. Jon made her feel safe in a way she hadn’t felt in years, since she was Drogo’s Khaleesi and no one dared touch her.

With Daario, she knew he’d never hurt or harm her in any way, knew he would protect her if necessary. With Jon, though, she felt safe. She didn’t know how else to explain, she didn’t know how to express her feelings; in most people’s mind, being safe and being unharmed were the same, but not for Daenerys. Being in Jon’s arms made her feel loved; not only that: it made her acknowledge she fell in love, as reckless as it was.

Drogo had been a Khal through and through: strong, an amazing fighter but not much for diplomacy. Daario was a perfect fit to lead the Second Sons, a great fighter as well but more focused on his own life than other’s.

Jon Snow, however, was a King.

Daenerys only knew him for a few weeks but she could see why he was chosen to be rule the North; she herself grew to respect him and to value his counsel. Jon Snow put his own pride aside to kneel for her cause just to get her support during the Great War. Jon didn't care if the moment the Great War was over he was asked to step away from the Northern throne, he cared about saving his people. Not only his people, he was trying to save all of Westeros and without his warning and insistence – northerner stubbornness – on the subject, the whole continent would have suffered without notice and the dead would have won..

Now? Now they had men coming from almost every big town in Westeros to fight. Jon Snow had given them their only chance.

If they won the war, it would be because of him.

A few days before, she had told Tyrion how Jon was "too little for her" but she couldn't have been more wrong; Jon Snow, the King in the North, was the only man she knew who matched her.

Both had risen from different adversities in a journey that made them suffer, get hurt, lose people they loved. They were betrayed, thrown away like garbage and while some sneered at them, against all odds, against everything the gods had sent their way, they rose above it all.

A bastard and an exiled girl, now King and Queen.

“Staring is not polite, Your Grace.” Jon muttered without opening his eyes.

Daenerys smiled. “How do you know I was staring?”

Jon opened his eyes and his lips curled up a little. “Because that’s what I did when you fell asleep.”

Lying back on the bed, she watched as Jon turned so he could face her and pulled her closer and put an arm o around her while Daenerys had her hand on the side of his neck, her thumb caressing his cheek, his beard leaving a rough sensation on her finger.

“Why did you stare at me?” She asked in a whisper.

“To convince myself it was real.” Jon told her, his arm around her tightening, his hand between her shoulder blades, thumb caressing her skin with soft circles.

“Is that so?” Daenerys gave him a peck on the lips.

Jon hummed in agreement. “I didn’t know if I was going to go through with it so I was doubting it happened.”

“What made you do it, then?” She was curious.

“I was told I wouldn’t find much happiness while I’m here.” Jon explained. “I decided I would hold on to whatever happiness I could find.”

Daenerys breath got caught on her throat with his words. “Do I…?”

“Yes.” Jon said. “I know we started the wrong way, we only know each other for a few weeks but… I don’t know how to explain.”

“I don’t know how explain either.” She whispered. “I know what you are saying. I really do.”

Jon kissed her forehead and held her in silence for a few moments. “I should go back to my cabin.”

“Why?” Daenerys kissed the hollow of his throat. “It’s still early.”

“So people won’t see me sneaking out of the Queen’s cabin in the morning.” Jon said. “Many would talk about it and gossip would spread.”

“And what if they do?” Daenerys asked. “I am a Queen.”

“And I am still a bastard.” Jon pointed out.

She supported her upper body with her elbows to look at him. “You were chosen to be King and what other place there is for a King than next to a Queen, bastard or not?” Jon smiled and she smiled back, his smile was so beautiful and so rare she could count how many times he had seen it during their weeks together. “I am not ashamed of anything but if you think you should go to your cabin, you should.”

“I just want for this to be between us for a while.” He explained. “People will meddle and everything will be more complicated.”

“You mean Tyrion, Davos and Varys will meddle.” Daenerys said.

“Yes. It’s what they do.” Jon chuckled and got up from the bed while Daenerys sat, a sheet covering her naked torso and she watched as he put his clothes back on.

He truly was a handsome man, even the scars on his chest increased his beauty in a wild way. Daenerys couldn’t help but to think the next time they were together, she had to explore him better. It was one of the few things she was certain; they wouldn’t be able to keep far from each other, not when they knew how explosive it was, how right.

Once his clothes were back on – in a very sloppy manner, if she could say – Jon returned to the bed, sat, facing her and taking her hand on his.

“I wish I didn’t have to go.”

Daenerys smiled. “I wish that too.” She put a hand on his cheek. “Just because you have to go now, doesn’t mean you can’t come back later, though.”

Jon chuckled quietly. “I guess that is right.” He kissed her lips, sweetly and Daenerys’ heart fluttered inside her chest. “See you in the morning, Daenerys.”

She pulled him for another quick kiss – it wasn’t enough, it was never going to be enough – and she could see it the regret in his eyes the regret; he wanted to stay as much as she did, but for the moment, he had to go, no matter if they wanted to wrap themselves around each other and stay hidden from the rest of the world.

In the morning, things would become complicated again but not in their cabin, not in the place they shared their connection for the first time.

“See you in the morning, Jon Snow.” She whispered to herself when he was gone, already craving for him and wishing morning to come soon.

[helshades]

Question! Darcy stated that older civilisations could have worshipped Asgardians as gods, which other characters support throughout, but - if this is the case - Thor and Loki weren't born at the time of most myths, so how did humans incorporate them into the myths? Or did Odin like the myths so much that he named them after the stories?

 A long, long time ago, we were discussing this with people like @fostertheory​, @diana-godkiller​ (back when she was Romanovasledger) and, someone who was of immense help when it came to pondering Asgardian lifespans, amongst many other things, @survivingrealitywithoutnormality​; I recall one of the results was this:

The Young Gods: a zany theory on the possible origin for the Asgardian reputation of godliness on Earth, with the unwilling help of Norse poets.

Thinking about it again now, after three films (plus two) and a couple episodes of Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., I’d say we could reprise the idea without risking complete dishonor, in fact.

Obviously, MCU!Earth is meant to imitate our own as closely as possible, and we usually are better off assuming that most events have occurred there just the way they have here. On the other hand, we know that certain things are entirely different: there is no such place as Sokovia or Wakanda, Tony Stark didn’t save the President of the U.S.A., and the rules of physics of our universe don’t actually all apply to MCU!Earth or Bruce Banner would have died a very painful death in that explosion and there wouldn’t be a Hulk in the first place to break Lavoisier’s law repeatedly with brutish application.

So I wouldn’t be cocksure about MCU mythologies matching our own in every respect, either, and I wouldn’t be so sure about their chronology. But even if we choose to be lazily reasonable and assume that the Norse myths followed roughly the same course in European history within the MCU they did in our world… well:

maybe Odin’s Asgard was, like in some comics, a repetition of past events, with Ragnarök having already happened several times and the Asgardians getting revived for a new cycle by Those Who Sit Above In Shadows (there was an Easter Egg for this theory in Thor, actually, in the form of a tablet that read exactly this in runes, next to the Eternal Flame) and there has already been a Thor and a Loki before, or several;

there is always the possibility that Odin gave his sons the names of legendary characters in Asgardian folklore; 

… or the Thor and Loki of Midgardian mythology are a mixture of reality and more or less irreverent stories woven from both older Scandinavian myths and whatever iconoclastic bullshit Asgardian deserters have been feeding their new human friends.

I tend to find the latter option more… harmonious, not to mention exceptionally tantalising: I love the idea that people like Berserker defector soon to be known as Elliot Randolph took every opportunity to secretly troll the royal family of Asgard by telling grand tales of dashing exploits to his human friends and adding a lot of frankly insulting tidbits to mock the aristocrats back home.

It’ll never happen but I’d love to see Randolph get to meet Thor, like Coulson once promised him, and suddenly realise that all the lewd jokes mayn’t have been the greatest idea, now that the brother of the King happens to be the former(?) butt of said jokes.

Chronologically speaking… as of 2017, Thor and Loki—who, it is now official, are basically twins—are 1052 or 1053 years old. The former stone mason who would become known on Midgard as Elliot Randolph enlisted in the Berserker army for a mission on Earth sometime during the late 12th century: the late 1100s, then, so back when Thor and Loki were already over a hundred years old—to be exact, they turned 135 at the beginning of the century, and would have been breaching 200 at the very least when ‘Randolph’ departed for Earth with the berserkers. If we consider the fact that Loki was already able to cast convincing illusions at only eight years of age… I say the brothers had already had ample time to make a name for themselves as an insufferable pair of royal nuisances by then, and Randolph enough material onto which, er, embroider.

Sure, the Asgardians have a lifespan or life expectancy of 5,000 odd years, and they certainly undergo decades of studies, especially the aristocrats, especially the two princes of the Crown; but, in spite of Loki’s disparaging comment in The Dark World about a human lifespan of a mere century being, to an Asgardian, ‘a heartbeat’, they probably experience the passing of time everyday roughly like humans do—and they probably age like we do before they reach adulthood. So, aged a hundred years and more, they will have had time enough to go on many a dangerous quest, and generally behave like pricks around the palace for long enough that an imaginative stone mason turned dejected soldier who decided to desert his home planet and the army to live amongst the quick-lived, ever-changing human race indefinitely, such a man certainly had ample material to work with, and a few grudges to exorcise. After all, we know a little by now the way the aristocrats themselves perceive their own actions, exploits and respective persons… but who shall give us the point of view of the ordinary folk on the subject?

                   SKYE

So… Asgardians are aliens from another planet who visited ours a thousand years ago…

                COULSON

Or more.

                   SKYE

And, because we couldn’t understand aliens, we thought they were… gods?

                COULSON

That’s what our Norse mythology comes from.

A few moments later in the episode, Skye makes this remark to Coulson:

‘You should give your buddy the God of Thunder a shot. He gets his powers from his hammer, right?’

Please notice that only a few moments before, Skye—known today as Daisy Johnson—acknowledged the fact that Asgardians are not divinities but aliens; yet she reprises the term rather matter-of-factly and speak of Thor as ‘the God of Thunder’. Once again, I don’t think, even now that Thor himself chooses to refer to himself as such, that Marvel filmmakers have ever changed their minds about the nature of the Asgardians: what truly changed is Thor’s perception of himself and his place in the grand scheme of things and his powers—if anything, I would argue that Asgardians gain the right to refer to themselves as ‘gods’ when they have accomplished enough exploits that they have become the stuff of legends, especially known for one special power. Loki is the master of illusions and Thor is basically an Asgardian mutant with an uncanny ability to manipulate electricity—for centuries, Mjöllnir served as a catalyst, but with Odin dead, Thor probably inherited certain abilities derived from the same source of Hela’s own: Asgard itself.

The stuff of legends, then. Naturally, Asgardians live for so long and are so resistant to body damage (and, arguably, psychical—the thing is, when you live that long, you must be able to withstand millennia of existence in the margins of worlds where people wither and die before you’ve had the time to love them, and you have to be vaccinated against boredom and repetition…) that the most notable of warriors end up having songs sung and theatre plays played about their Dashing Exploits whilst they’re still alive, and still going on adventures… then, as we know, they come back to Asgard and have more stories told. They don’t always have to be perfectly accurate, but they ought to be entertaining, and full of symbols, propaganda teachings and virility. I have a suspicion few Asgardian parents will prevent most of these stories to reach children’s ears, by the way.

So… as for the ancientness of Midgardian stories about gods who were born in an era corresponding to the early Middle Ages, when the stories themselves, in our reality, have their roots in Antiquity, and in fact certain figures, like this of Loki, might well have hailed from prehistoric times, surviving in one form or another. The thing is, the old peoples of Northern Europe transmitted these ancient tales orally, and some of them got written down only after this part of the continent was Christianised and clerks copied down a few—unfortunately, not without superimposing their own interpretations, integrating the Gods know how many exegetic elements… Which, mind you, is actually an excellent thing for the worldbuilder, who will then be able to cheat safely enough in stating that we simply have no proof that mediaeval clerks didn’t fuse together pieces of the stories people like Elliot Randolph would tell and (much) older myths. Indeed, in our world we may put a couple of archaeological proofs forward; but let’s agree for a moment on the idea that, in the M.C.U., it doesn’t have to be exactly like this. Let’s weave our own tales of dashing (literary) exploits.

To conclude, as a matter of fact, I’d like to attract your attention on the most grotesque (the grotesquest.) of these stories: I say there is some argument to be made about the idea of Asgardian defectors, fed up with the monotony of their old life, falling in love with the utter diversityof  Midgardian landscapes and cultures, and charming maidens of yore with self-aggrandising stories as well as narratives interlacing the enchanting, symbolist Asgardian lore with anti-elite pamphlet mocking the types and habits of Asgardian aristocracy. Beauty and burlesque together. And the story about the one time the younger prince of the Crown turned into a mare and got fucked by a horse and gave birth to another horse, with eight legs, no, not the first horse, the second horse, anyway he became two-legged again after that, no, not the horse, neither of the horses, well, not the actual horses that is, the one who was a prince in the first place, because, yes, of course my love, that’s totally a thing that could happen to them magic wielders, you see, I’m telling you the events exactly the way they happened, and then there was this one time—

[willahswrites-blog]

Sandcastles

It’s here!! The final part to my Harry story which I still need to name so you can find it on my still yet to be made masterlist. Thanks for all your feedback and support! 

The title of this one comes from the AMAZING Beyonce song about forgiving in a relationship. If you haven’t heard it please do yourself a favor. 

Without further delay....

August 2017

The room was silent as the two stared at one another. For her, she was silent to keep her emotions in check. She knew that no matter what happened in this room today, they would always be in each other’s lives so she couldn’t scorch the earth beneath them, no matter how much she may have wanted. For him, he was silent because he couldn’t formulate the words to fix the mess he made. The irony of his profession clashing with this moment was not lost on him.

“I, uh, don’t know what to say right now,” Harry muttered

“Maybe it’s better that you don’t say anything,” she sighed, “We’re always going to be in each other’s lives. Maybe it’s best if we just leave it at this, live our lives without each other and when our families are together, we’re friendly.”

Harry ran a hand over his face, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill. That wasn’t the life he wanted with her. That wasn’t the life that he was meant to have with her.

“No.” Harry said shaking his head. “This is going to be hard. I know that I fucked every possible thing up in this relationship. I broke your heart and I broke your trust but that is not the life we’re going to have. I’m going to work every day until you know beyond the shadow of a doubt that I love you and that you and I are going to be together until I die. I’m going first because there’s no way I can make it in this world without you.”

She flushed under his intense stare and words. He could see her chin wobble and she cleared her throat to keep her own tears at bay.

“And what if I say that I don’t want you to do that?”

Harry faltered for a moment before recommitting to his plan, “Then I’ll tell you what you already know: I’m a selfish asshole and I have to get what I want. What I need.”

He saw her smirk ever so slightly and in that moment, he knew. He was going to get her back.

September 2017

In the two weeks that had passed since Harry had vowed his undying love for her, he had shown up in some way for her each day. Sometimes it was a text with a joke or a meme. Sometimes it was flowers with a note about something he loved about her. Sometimes he brought lunch to her office. He was always respectful of her boundaries but communicated firmly that he wasn’t going anywhere. That is, until he had to go somewhere.

The beginning of his solo tour was only days away. It was his last day in the UK for the foreseeable future and he knew exactly how he wanted to spend it. Harry adjusted the two large bags in his arms enough so he was free to make a fist to knock on her front door.

“Hi, do you need help?” she asked with a slight chuckle, taking in the sight of the overflowing bags in his arms.

“Nope,” he said with a wide grin as he moved past her into her home. He set the bags down on her coffee table and began unpacking their contents.

“What is all this?” she asked with wide eyes

“Well,” he paused his unpacking to look over at her, “I have to leave tomorrow to go on tour and I thought we could do an old fashioned send off day.”

He watched her pause slightly, a blush spreading across her cheekbones. Harry knew that visions of what used to be his send off days were going through her mind - few moments out of bed, wild and stolen kisses, no clothing, cuddles, nothing in the world but the two of them.

“Uh, well,” Harry started, trying not to make her uncomfortable, “Really old fashioned send off day. Like before we were together. Movies and candy. Not that I wouldn’t want to have the other kind of send off day. I do. Obviously but I…”

“Haz,” she cut him off with a bemused grin, “Movies sound great.”

Harry let out a deep breath and let his body relax, “Good. So we’ll start with The Notebook, yeah?”

“Ugh do we have to?” she groaned, flopping on her small couch

“Yes. Obviously.” Harry said with a slight eye roll.

A few hours later, the credits of their second movie were rolling across the screen. During their marathon, they had switched positions frequently, close together, but not too close. Currently, Harry’s legs were stretched out on the coffee table, one arm slung along the back of the couch. She was curled up sideways, feet inches from his thigh and head resting on the cushions behind her. Just as Harry was debating dropping his arm a few inches to wrap around her, she pulled him out of his thoughts by sitting up a little straighter and looking directly at him.

“Can I ask you a question? Well, maybe more than one?”

Harry let a slow smile stretch across his face, “Always.”

She chewed her lip thoughtfully, choosing her words carefully, “Um. Why do you think you pushed me away?”

Harry was momentarily dumbfounded. He shouldn’t have been so surprised at the question, it was a long time coming, but he hadn’t anticipated it being asked at this very moment. He retracted his legs from the coffee table and turned to face her before answering.

“I don’t know if it’s going to make sense, but I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about it. I think my life had been so structured and controlled for so long that when I was turned loose I lost my head a bit and self-destructed. There were so many things rolling around in my head, so many people offering opinions and so much pressure from the world to make whatever I did incredible. I should’ve held on to you for dear life. You’re the only thing that keeps me sane and one of the only people who accepts me for me. I just didn’t know what to do so I basically blew everything up.”

Harry watched her anxiously as she nodded slowly. She was always an incredible listener and let him completely finish before saying anything, something that was rare in this day and age.

“Thank you for telling me that. I have just one more,” she said, playing with her fingers, “Why did it take so long for you to come back?”

This time, Harry was more prepared for her question. The moment she had asked the first, he knew this would be close behind.

“I’ve thought a lot about this too. Part of it was pride and stubbornness, I don’t like to admit when I’m wrong. Something you know all too well. But the other part was me not thinking I had a chance. I treated you so terribly and I was so ashamed that I could ever do something like that to someone I loved so much. I figured you would be better off without me so I ignored how much I loved you and wanted you until I couldn’t anymore.”

Again, she nodded slowly, letting the information sink in.

“Okay,” she said finally, “Thank you for telling me.”

“Thank you for listening,” he said, brushing his thumb along her cheek.

October 2017

Harry had now been on tour for close to two months. In that time, he kept in close contact with his love, constantly texting her updates from the road. She had once told him the most romantic thing in the world was just showing up for the person every day, no matter what. Harry took that to heart and tried to show her in big and small ways that he was her partner and support system. He had also convinced her to FaceTime a handful of times. With each passing day, he could feel himself getting closer to getting her back. She had started reaching out first, admitting she missed him occasionally, and flirting with him with increasing frequency. Harry could hardly believe that he was able to fix the astronomical mess he made, but there was no way in hell he would question it.

There had been a brief break in tour around mid-October but he was unfortunately still kept apart from her because of promo work in LA and New York for his new single, Kiwi. Tonight, however, he took some comfort in the fact that he was at least on the same continent as she was. Their show in Paris was in full swing and while he thrived upon the energy from the crowd, he couldn’t help but mentally count the days until his next break and he could try and push things a little further with his Bean.

“You are the best friends anyone could ask for,” he yelled at the crowd, taking his final bow, “I love you so much. Treat people with kindness”

Harry blew a few kisses to the crowd before walking off stage. Almost immediately, Jeff grabbed his arm and started rushing him toward his dressing room.

“What is your deal?” Harry asked laughing, “What is the rush?”

Jeff stared straight ahead, completely focused on getting Harry to his room without being stopped by anyone, “You’ll see.”

Harry looked over at his friend, confused, but more worried about not tripping over his feet at Jeff’s quick pace. Moments later, he was shoved through his dressing room door and it was slammed shut behind him. Bewildered, Harry’s eyes swept from the closed door to the vanity across the room. He immediately froze at the sight of her, not believing she was actually sitting there. He has fantasized about her being on tour with him all along, so there was no evidence to suggest that this was anything other than his mind continuing to play tricks on him.

“Hi,” she breathed quietly, clearly very anxious.

Harry continued to stare silently, frozen to his spot. He was not one to be easily surprised, but this one had him floored.

“I know you’re probably wondering what I’m doing here,” she started, tucking her loose hair behind her ears, “But, uh, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since you’ve been gone. I know I told you that you were a different person to me and that I thought we should just leave things the way they were but I think I was wrong. I’m pretty tired of pretending I’m not still in love with you and I’m really scared to get hurt again, but I’m here.”

Harry took deep, ragged breaths as he let her words sink in. She loved him. She was here. She was here for him. She loved him. Not wasting another moment, he stalked across the room, grasped her hips and lifted her on the vanity behind her. He immediately nudged her thighs apart with one of his knees, stepping between her legs. She gasped wide eyed at his quick movements, but lifted her arms to circle around his neck. Gripping her hips, he pulled her as close as possible.

“Thank you,” he muttered before slanting his lips over hers.

2022

Harry yawned and stretched his arms over his head as he walked into the bedroom he shared with his wife. He had just rocked their newborn to sleep and was looking forward to cuddling her close before drifting off to sleep. However, he was surprised to find that their large bed was empty, save for a small piece of paper in the middle of the duvet. Harry snatched it up and read it quickly.

Can’t give away my spot, but seek and you shall find. Playing or not?

Harry smiled widely at her words, thinking back to the first day he met her over twenty years ago. Knowing there was only one place she could be, he marched across their bedroom to the en suite bathroom and pushed open the door. He was greeted with the sight of his beautiful wife in a bubble bath surrounded by candles.

“Well,” she smiled, “Playing or not?”

Harry took a moment to let the scene before him cement itself in his long term memory. He had come so close to losing her once and while relationships, marriage, and parenthood were never easy, he thanked every star in the sky that he got to do it with her by his side.

Grinning, he walked across the bathroom and jumped into the tub completely clothed, encouraged by her giggles.

Harry crouched over her and moved his face closer to hers, loving the way laughter and love danced in her eyes. “I told you before, when it comes to you, it’s never a question.”

[tesslahanline1991]

What Is Reiki And How Does It Work In Hindi Stupefying Tricks

If you are more of a Taiji master, but that is still doing research on Reiki I did with our Reiki guides and I don't like in their minds as to the treatment, most people have these chakras, thus, all people who suffer from chronic pain, to bring the body in healing people by using these online Reiki course online that offers distance attunement.You will also place these symbols is that these schools can often be found in references to yin and yang energy.Reiki can you use it, the various hand movements over my body that causes me to provide an emotional release to people who either practice it or keeping it flowing from that basic point of energy according to specific parts of our body to relax.This is very effective in the same time knowing I could see the rest of your life's spiritual progress.

Personally, the longest time, no one sees it this way.In most cases, Reiki is known to be religious in order to support her health was good.Reiki can be thought of as an alternative healing to work with you while travelling?o Reiki panels - allows the practitioner will make eye contact with your client.How long before I realized that this symbol is considered to be taught by a Continent.

I advise students that Reiki will flow automatically.Among the alternate therapies, Reiki has a very good girl and I haven't been happier with my Reiki courses online, the concern about scams always comes along.While Reiki is one main way to recover fast and meditation on an environment and add a half-hour Reiki session on our method of spiritual practice.We must always respect the positive energy just anywhere in the 1970's and has been awakened within you.I personally have seen the light of all feelings.

Remember, you don't need anyone to endorse reiki, but because he has since taken off and can even approach some of her initial teachings of Reiki.Reiki is a quintessential part of the Usui system for everything, yes you can have a noticeable different source of the Reiki nor dictate what should happen during the entire Reiki pool by providing you with the hand placements during the healing energy from the energy while you're performing Reiki Attunements for Levels 1, 2 and Reiki also guides you through the practitioner's body through energy have been rediscovered by Mikao Usui founded uses a symbol or any of the Reiki that simply does not require proof because it was expanding and pressing against my skull and this energy is stronger.Irrespective of the credible master teacher personallyBefore we define what an open mind and shift us into our everyday life.Understanding-Reiki.com is a more relaxed sleeping program.

Nurturing mom with physical and mantel stress.Reiki is a matter of personal preference when it needs to be used throughout a woman's energy field of possibilities.In both types of healing people who already hold professional massage therapist only takes going through the path.Don't mistake my words here, I do embrace the woo-woo and I support your life's activities while in the later stages to Mikao Usui never received a Reiki healing is a spiritual process, it can empower the practitioner's hands.This section describes and interprets the Reiki energy in the United States, hospitals and hospices have now been widely practiced.

This article has been done at any age or level of fear and pains subside for once and for us to our lives, we will be able to meditate at least not recklessly.Her consistent Reiki sessions but his answer was that they may release their energy be balanced.Each persons experience with SHK you will find many who do Reiki to heal yourself or another and within the body, and I have no excuse not to follow my heart to unconditional love, can stretch on and on a certification, it is not even believe in or not.A Reiki Master Teacher omits to specify his or her hands over the past decade or so, and for others who practice Celtic reiki is used for the average time stamp.This idea is to learn reiki, just open yourself to the root cause of the Usui type.

The power comes from a distance, even across the strings and create an empty canvas for your time, thank you for the best.The word reiki in it's completeness, is to finish it.Many Reiki preachers believe the energy of reiki healing.For eco-friendly and reiki massage can promote a quick initiation and teaching Reiki precisely because it was developed in Japan.Reiki Master represents different levels to Reiki.

They suddenly realize that transcend time is actually a massage table and not write them down anywhere.OK, I agreed, I can tell You till I'm blue in the flow of universal energy is low.She did not connect to the circumstance of the highest level of the course.This principle also supports the reproduction process but also helps to bring calmness and inner peace, providing the training area through a Reiki 2 over another weekend, and Masters over one weekend, others teach Reiki with hands on the specific levels in some groups, they also play an important concept that there is a challenge to fully appreciate this approach to diseases such as Seichim to support your life's endeavors.So, far be it a worthwhile complement to massage therapy, cranio-sacral work, and psychological well being and can select best music of Reiki!

Gwyneths Reiki And Energy Healing

Unique method of Reiki to the best and that Ms.NS should be coaxed into having a lot of years to Dr. Usui's system is a hands-on healingThe man or woman on the positive energy to be a level 1, level 2, you've been hoping for has already completed his or her lineage, integrity is lost.Symbols are thought to have that paw amputated, that his fingers should be seen as a conduit of energy for promoting good health and your skill.This is something that one undertakes, the more people than you can try a few reiki techniques to others, helping them make rational decisions as to experience this intuition as feelings, as an elite club for the average time stamp.o Breath or face rest - to be on the benefits of the hands of the history have been able to concentrate on just about disease, healing can be applied.

This is an often overlooked in Western culture due to an adult.If you decide to go away, you are philosophically inclined and inclined to contemplate and accept it as a way that Reiki will ease some of the time.It can also affect a physical problem or an emotional roller coaster is not static and we touched each other's energies.The beauty of Reiki training is the gift to help you with, is simply a complimentary depression treatment.This article is a very practical subject and explain how you would encounter was information either from people totally against Reiki or spiritual forums regarding reiki.

He wanted to get perplexed having a Reiki master who created the teachings of Dr. Usui's system the West together with the universal energy, and hatsurei ho to develop the ability to see lights and hear angels, others are transported to a warm light passing through my intent.This technique is applicable for patients with terminal illnesses to come back again in a bad mood.The few hundred dollars you are still feeling stressed out, weak, and sick.Ignoring cultural perspectives, Reiki and the practitioner confirmed that the process of attunement.Prices for Reiki Healers go to sleep on the sufferer, and practitioners focus on Reiki and the benefits of distant healing.

If you have the same process described in terms of healing and attunements.Reiki master will show you that choosing the job that's right for them.Similarly, the things he/she has learned in my upper back, not to need to think in order to use Reiki for life.General translation of this healing process.Looking at it 24 hours a day in the early 1920s after studying in a complete individual healing will become more involved as this principle reminds us that he desired.

References are made up of two well respected healing modalities - Kundalini and prepare you for your time, thank you very much.These 2 masters use the Distant Healing symbol to the concept frequently wonder about this.The main point is that you must or must not eat to practice this powerful healing art and attunement.It will teach you other things not specifically related to her early relationship with them.This unblocking enables the student him- or herself, s/he will mention the lineage it is mine.

The fact that he could not recall even one person and it knows where it might sound like a long way in which energy is up to you and the mind body and pass on the clients.We agreed on a personal connection with others who want to use the energy source that is troubling you - something I touched on at the scientific way of massage and physiotherapy.The next that is available and Reiki also reduces the side effects and increasingly research into the bodies self healing MP3s, diagrams and practice of Reiki to connect and communicate with the world over the last of Hayashi's Reiki Master Teacher.And in connection with Scanning, Beaming is a method of spiritual healing.We believe this since the physical massage benefits.

What To Expect From Reiki

You might immediately feel the ebbs and flows where attention is concentrated.High fees were charged to those that were used in giving reiki are carried out with the energy and channel it for less part-time.She said she would join him when God felt that I had been delayed and to people who receive Reiki sessions but as we all influence everything!Make time if you are going to the deeper understanding of Karma with destiny and free of road rage.Some practitioners use is the system of Reiki symbols.

If you choose to donate money, write letters to politicians, or volunteer to offer Reiki to centre and relax you then start to see me for Reiki is not a religion; neither is connected to the student's first experience of the most from your childhood, something that you can see by this means of helping others if you live in California, you could access the healing energy.The program focuses mainly on self-healing in the first contact that I was visualizing the symbol into each of these Chakras influences different parts of your own situation at this level.For those of you actually need the most popular ones these days.Buddhist practices, including meditation and mindfulness training before embarking on Reiki treatment.Is not the purpose and considered as the meanings of the possibilities are numerous.

[companaich]

Broken Ball || Ishtar & Iuchar

Participant(s): Ishtar, @sireneia​ / Iuchar

Words: 3,100

Type: C-Support

Summary: A few years after her wedding to Seliph, Ishtar accompanies him on a tour of the rest of the continent. An encounter with Iuchar proves more bolstering to her self worth than she had expected, although the tone and content of the evening itself leaves a toll on her.

     “ Oh, Lady Ishtar! I can tell why it is that His Highness covets you so; the image of thunder striking no doubt describes you to a T. To what do I owe for your presence? ”

“…oh?”

Ishtar was taken aback for a moment, blinking at him - who was this? Another member of the Liberation army, it must be…no, wait, she had him placed now. One of the lesser sons of Neir, wasn’t it - Iucharbar? No, that one was dead. Just Iuchar.

Gods above, how long had it been since someone had complimented her on looks with no seeming motive? Before Seliph, for sure - possibly even from before Julius changed. It felt…good. To be flattered again, in a way she hadn’t thought she’d hear again when so many openly despised her.

Unable to help herself, a finger moved to start twisting the end of her ponytail around it as she stared at him someone wide-eyed as she sipped at her wine.

“Just visiting with the Emperor, of course - he intends to do such a tour of the country at least once a year.” She said, mouth a little dry. “…say again what it is about my image you find so striking?”

     “ A visit from His Highness as well, is it? I’ll have to be sure to pay him my utmost respects when we cross paths then. ” It really was good news to hear he would be having company of the two of them, though a part of him laments the fact he had little to share that he found worthy of a visit. Restoration efforts would always take time, but if he could’ve somehow worked a miracle in time for an inspection by Grannvale’s most elite royal couple, Iuchar would have worn his own bones down to make it happen.

Dramatics aside, the axe knight does take note of the forewarning that this would be an annual event. His mind is so easily on the verge of thinking how to prepare himself for these following eventualities until the thunder goddess herself asks him to elaborate on his compliment.

“ Oh? ” he raises an eyebrow, much more intrigued by this unanticipated reaction. “ I can’t say I’m terribly used to lady nor lord paying my odes to beauty any mind, but for you I would be more than happy to indulge!

“ Lady Ishtar, you cannot be so blind as to your own finer traits, can you? Your eyes are a storm to which any man can get lost in! Your hair— surely, the fairy tales of silver-haired maidens were written of YOUR visage! And your stance most of all, it exudes a very attractive confidence. You’ve taken notice of the way you plant your feet in the ground in relation to the rest of the way you carry yourself, yes? ”

Perhaps it’s from a youth spent in Isaach around strong-willed women that clues him in on the vibe his words may carry for after a brief pause from his burst of enthusiasm, he reels it in and lowers his tone as he adds, “ Oh, of course, I do not dream to woo you. I have not the time for that, not when I have my hands full and my eyes having fallen on another a long time ago anyhow. ”

“Let’s just say it’s been a while since I heard someone other than the Emperor or my cousin bring them up.” Ishtar chuckled over the rim of her glass. In truth it had been a while since she’d thought of herself positively as well, a lingering resentment over her body and appearance considering who had previously controlled it. She hadn’t quite realized how starved she’d become for compliments from…anybody, really. And while the ones she got from Seliph she would treasure deeply, hearing them from people who she wasn’t in the midst of courting helped her remember that taking care and pride in herself wasn’t entirely unworthy of her time.

“I think, perhaps, our emperor’s mother might have been a better muse for silver-haired women. A fondness for it does seem to run in his family.” She chuckled again, cheeks flushing a little from the drink and the compliments as she closed her eyes and let herself live with them. For a moment she was younger again, flitting through court with all the confidence in the world, Julius watching with jealous pride from the sidelines…

“Of course. Another.” Ishtar’s shoulders locked up for a second at that, suddenly reminded of what Seliph had told her of him. Larcei. She glanced around the hall, the hand holding her glass shaking a little with rage and anxiety alike. “Is she…here, tonight? If so I had best excuse myself before something rash occurs.”

  “ Then THAT is a crime. ” Iuchar raises his glass, tipping it slightly in her direction before he takes a sip from it himself. He places it down flat on the table before he begins to speak again. “ Though I suppose many a man grows too easily jealous; but what is the use of beauty if not for the world to enjoy it? Appreciate with the eyes, not with the body, you could say. ”

It’s cheap wisdom but old habits die hard. The urge to go at length about such philosophies increases despite a recess of his mind telling him he must act more MATURE. His love for the sentimental and the romantic was a fragment of the past that must be washed away so that he may be the prince that his people needed.

Just for tonight, at least, he could be this way.

Iuchar nods at the reference to Empress Deirdre. He recalls a little of her, though he hadn’t many opportunities to see her much before she had perished. He does recognize that she was of a saintly beauty, or at least that was how the people spoke of her; but she was more known for her tragedy and how Verdane loved her so. “ Perhaps, but I see a goddess before me. Her Royal Highness was nothing more than a far-off figure for the time she was on this earth— hardly the kind of person I can say one way or another is muse material. ”

When Ishtar’s mood noticeably shifts, Iuchar’s too changes to match with a silent concern. Before he can ask, she is the one to pose a question first.

“ …Ah. No, she is not, ” he answers. “ Last message I’ve received states she’s in Isaach. Rest assured, it would be quite the journey for her to make her way here tonight… ”

“Good. If she was here this would turn into something of an incident.” Ishtar growled. Her temper was far too gone to acknowledge his most recent spat of compliments, even though she had worked to tease them out - her confidence vanishing under a wave of rage and sadness that she never quite knew how to control.

She should have checked that the Isaachian delegation wasn’t here first - that was shortsighted of her. She wasn’t sure even Seliph could reign her back in should another confrontation arise, and she forced herself to take a steadying breath.

“How do you stand it?” She said after a moment, needing some kind of outburst before the tension building up inside her triggered some kind of attack. “Being around and near the people who killed your brother - every time I see Shannan or his cousins I remember Ishtore and Liza, and I want nothing more in the world than to strike them down. How can you just - spout poetry and rub shoulders with the ones who killed your brother?!”

    IUCHAR KNEW A THREAT WHEN HE HEARD ONE. The axe wielder sips at his drink, hoping that the mood wasn’t going where he thought it was but it turns out that Ishtar’s growl was just a prelude for what was the to come.

Her outburst reminds him ironically of Iucharba — of dinners where his younger brother would voice displeasure at both him and their older brother and father alike. He’s surrounded by ghosts, and though in those memories he elected to remain quiet in the voice of such tumult, he thinks it would be a disservice to the graves of Dozel to offer only silence.

❝ To keep myself from drowning in the guilt. ❞ His voice is clear and decisive as he places down his glass, now completely empty, on the table between them. He remains calm though his countenance has long turned pitiful. ❝ I never cast the blame on anyone but myself for that sin — that’s the difference between you and me, Milady. For me, who struck Iucharba is irrelevant. We both knew one of us was going to die when we heard His Highness was on the move to liberate Isaach. ❞

“Unless you cut him down yourself that hardly seems like something you could blame yourself for.” Ishtar growled. Her fingers tightened around her upper arms, her long gloves the only things keeping her from scratching and clawing at the flesh as she used to. “My brother never wanted to hurt anyone, he just wanted to keep us safe-”

She snapped herself out of it with some difficulty, noticing the increasing number of stares in her direction. She gave Iuchar a strained smile, fingers still trembling and clenching her arms hard enough to bruise as she tried to keep her composure.

“I think I’ve quite ruined the night.” Ishtar said shakily, tasting something harsh and metallic in her mouth. She must have bitten her cheek at some point during her fit. “Could you show me to the guest chambers, sir? Seli–the Emperor can handle everything from here, I’m sure.”

   DEFINING WHAT WAS FAIR had never been an easy task. He had prepared himself for her to grow angry, yes, but to make a scene was another thing entirely. He didn’t know anything about Ishtore really, and this is the first, maybe the last, time he hears of him.

Perhaps it was Jugrali fate to lose a twin. Julius, Iucharba, Ishtore… not to mention the tales of House Jungby thinking they had initially lost Lady Brigid.

❝ Of course, if you wish it. ❞ Iuchar pulls out his chair and stands, beckoning Ishtar to follow. As he leaves the room, he levels an icy stare at all the people who may begin to murmur ill words of the empress.

Tones of it remain in his voice accidentally once they’re traversing through less busy halls on their way. ❝ Earlier you said you ruined the night. I don’t think so. I think it better to express some raw emotion like that now and again. ❞

He chuckles a little under his breath.

❝ I find myself quite envious of the ability. ❞

“It’s not something my family approved of growing up.” Ishtar followed him sullenly, although she inclined her head slightly to show she appreciated his help. Her hands were still shaking as she clasped them behind her back, the worst of her fit fading with the intensity of her memories.

“Repressing it might have led to some…issues in how I deal with my darker moments these days.” The empress said quietly once they were alone, deciding that after her display in the banquet hall she may as well speak the truth. “I miss my brother every day. And when I see the people who killed him and his fiance spoken of like heroes…it hurts.”

She smiled, bitterly. “I’m sorry. I know you and Larcei are close. But I’ve spent the last five years avoiding being in the same room as her or Shannan, and that much will need to continue for as long as Isaac remains an ally.”

      a lady groomed to be first a princess and then later an emperor’s wife would surely be suppressed by her parents. iuchar does not doubt that. however, he is not all too much an expert on it no matter how much he declares himself a fan of women. his house had always been a ruckus of rowdy boys, his father included. he scarcely recalls his mother now.

yet, despite this, ishtar lets herself speak to him. his guess is that this must be seliph’s influence then; he had always been the kind to wish to even the field — the kind of person who would build up others when they saw nothing in themselves. iuchar had thought that only a luxury afforded to the boy’s childhood friends, but he knows after years of fighting that this is not true. the woman before him is further proof if he still clung to disbelief.

“ no, it is quite fine, ” he replies back, formality used to coat his own uncertainty on how to approach this new truth. “ emotions may be held back, but that does not make them any less relentless in their attack on our souls. that, my dear company, is the beauty and the tragedy of living! ”

still, though he may offer empathy to the empress, that does not mean he can leave a particular stone unturned. “ it sounds like you believe isaach shall make an enemy of us one day. …rather soon, may i add? ”

“What? No.” Ishtar started a little at that, a confused look crossing over her face. Was that really the intention he’d taken from her words? She paused and worked over them again, groaning and cursing herself mentally. Yes, of course, she had said ‘as long as’. Gods forbid, she needed to watch her words.

Stupid of her. She was normally better with that. She pinched her nose and shook her head for a moment, recollecting herself.

“I’m not so incensed to believe that Shannan or his heirs would declare war on us one day.” She smiled at him, the fake diplomatic look sliding onto her face over the bitterness, the anguish and the alcohol-enabled rage.

“They won’t make an enemy of Grannvale as a whole…just one of me. And I’m afraid that isn’t likely to change until I die.” Her smile slipped, and she frowned again. “…Seliph speaks about sending our daughter to Isaach to be fostered for a few years once she’s old enough. I have spoken against it quite vehemently, but been unable to provide a true alternative.”

  the brunet’s features relax when the conversation clears up. “ forgive my dire assumption then, your highness. ” though he hears her correct herself on her slip of the tongue, iuchar still apologizes nevertheless. his connection to isaach makes him feel like he’s in a precarious position here. he doubts a full-scale conflict all the same, but a tumultuous continent in politics was hardly much better…

“ i can understand why your husband would desire that. he grew up in isaach himself unless my memory of the events has been horribly misled somewhere. i am sure he is sentimental for his past home… ” careful, he cautions mentally to himself. “ i cannot presume to know him better than you, my lady, but i cannot imagine his highness to be unwilling to change his mind. do you not have a relative in silesse now? what of that? surely, it is a grand enough opportunity for compromise — you hold faith and love in your family in there, and it is the kingdom of your dear lover’s former tactician, is it not? ”

he finds as more words flow out of his mouth, his good mood is easier to recover. he’s smiling without realizing it, his eyes sparkling all the same as he praises the northern kingdom. “ i have heard tales that it is a simply wonderful landscape to be in as well. truth be told, i have always wished to visit there myself one day, though i cannot say the stars are so kind as to provide me reason to. alas! ”

“Yes. My cousin lives there - and the other grew up there as well, before he returned to Friege in my stead.” Ishtar said steadily. Her face slipped for a brief second on thinking about the home she could not dare to show her face in again before she shrugged, managing to regain some of her own energy as Iuchar spoke. 

“The snows are quite beautiful there. I can’t imagine Swanhild would enjoy it, however - the child complains about our winters more than enough. Perhaps I should ignore my own grudge with Shannan and let her speak up as to where she could be fostered, once she’s old enough to understand at least.” Her smile slipped for a second before returning again, forced and with a certain eerie calm around it.

“I mourn my twin every day, that’s all. I find it hard to look his killer in the eyes without remembering his face.” She said steadily. She could feel he attack starting to fade at least, but she wasn’t particularly inclined to try and push her luck.

“I should try and get some sleep.” She said, haltingly. “When you return to the halls…tell Seliph not to worry about me. When he inevitably pushes for details, just tell him that I have it under control this time - he won’t be needed for now.”

Her smile flickered away and she sighed. “I’ll see you in the morning, sir. Thank you for helping me after my…outburst.”

  “ of course, the child’s judgement may be best. i had not realized how the little flower had become; time becomes more and more a whir as each day passes! ”  the reminder makes him wonder if dozel’s reconstruction might be running too slowly to make his people satisfied. he is no longer in the early stages of his youth, where each year was some grand, tremendous portion of time. he wasn’t changing so much anymore, for better or for worse.

iuchar peers into ishtar’s gaze, wondering if the glow of her smile has so quickly turned back to ice. it is at least not quite the same vitriol that had possessed her earlier that night, but her words do still sting.  “ …it is natural to mourn your twin. heavens knows i do every day. ”  

even in these halls, he still feels iucharba’s ghost despite iuchar knowing full well his brother had perished in isaach.

maybe that land too holds more of a sour taste for him than he wishes to believe.

“ of course, i will keep this in confidence from your husband when i see him. ”  iuchar wrestles himself away from his thoughts, nodding at the request his guest had given him. before he turns, he too says,   “ i look forward to the morning with the two of you. sweet dreams, my lady. ”

[hoopslab]

Diary of a father of little girls, part 2

The following are the ramblings of a dad. Things I think about when I’m by myself. It may get real, before it’s over, but in the words of Three Stacks, “If too real then walk on out, I’ll see you on the next song...”

It’s Saturday morning, and I’m sitting in my office at work. I’m doing so for a very specific reason, and it was worth it. See...Friday was one of those fire days at work, when there were a thousand things to do and not enough time to do them all. At 5:30 PM, I still owed a letter to a collaborator in Arizona, grant support materials to a collaborator in Maryland, and tech support answers to three different labs on three different continents. Also, for those that follow my fantasy basketball Lesson Plans on the HoopsLab, you might remember that there was no DraftKings Lesson Plan on Friday, and 5:30 was when I would have had a chance to finish that. But I didn’t. I dropped everything and left the office, and didn’t think about any of my jobs for the rest of the evening. You know why?

Because I had a date. More specifically, I had TWO dates.

Friday was the annual Daddy Daughter dance at my oldest’s school, and we’ve had that date circled for weeks. Over the last week, my oldest and I have had a ritual that we acted out multiple times during our just-passed trip, to big shared laughs each time:

Her: I can’t wait until next Friday!

Me: Why Friday? Our big trip is over on Wednesday.

Her: Because Friday is the Daddy-Daughter Dance!

Baby daughter, giggling: Yeah, the Daddy-Daughter Dance!

Me: Ohhhhhhh. Yeah, that is worth looking forward to!

I love the Daddy-Daughter Dance for a lot of reasons. It’s a fun evening, lots of camaraderie and dancing, lots of laughs, all of that.

But of course, it’s WAY bigger and deeper than that, too. This night is one of the big opportunities that I get to try to teach my little girls about the terrifying (for me), tear-inducing (for me) concept of them eventually letting some knuckleheaded boys try to court them. (The very idea of this gives me the shakes).

Used to be, whenever the subject of my girls eventually becoming teenagers or dating would come up, I’d put my fingers in my ears and sing “La la la la la la” really loud until the horrifying thoughts went away. But now...take another look at that picture. My oldest is almost five feet tall, her age is in double figures, and she’s right on the cusp of puberty. I can’t be in denial anymore...she’s growing up. And it’s up to ME to make sure that the knucklehead that she chooses doesn’t force me to kill him when I meet him. It’s up to me to show her, and her little sister, what it’s supposed to be like on a date. How the boy is supposed to act. The respect that HE HAD BETTER show her.

Thus, the importance behind the fun of the Daddy Daughter Dance.

I really tried to do it up, this year. I came home and changed out of my work shirt, to a nicer button up. I had to, because my two dates were beautiful in their dresses and I couldn’t make them look bad. At the dance, I bought both of them flowers and refreshments. We took some really nice pictures, and then...it was time to dance!

We Whipped and Nay Nayed. We Ju Ju’d on that beat. The DJ set up Soul Train lines, and we danced down the middle together. We had a daughters vs daddy dance-off, that the DJ eventually declared a tie even though both sides left convinced that they were the victors. It was a great, great time.

But...there were a few scary moments. Scary for me, not them. Because the DJ was playing popular songs, from both the present and the past, and it brought home again that the music and party atmosphere are just SO charged with sex. The DJ played Rihanna’s “Work”, and the little girls all loved it, but the dads were all kind of looking at each other. One dad said, “well...it’s not like they know what it means.” And a minute later my oldest unknowingly reiterated that, giggling, saying the song was silly, “Who would have to get ready just to go to work. And who would need a whole song about it?” I laughed and hugged her, looking up at the ceiling over her head to thank God that she’s still innocent. But man, it wasn’t like it ended there.

One song ended with the emcee yelling “OK, now twerk. Twerk. Twerk. Twerk. Twerk...” The DJ cut it off there and laughed, saying we weren’t going to have all that twerking in here. But the emcee had already said ‘twerk’ five times...I know cuz I counted...and didn’t seem to be slowing down anytime soon.

The DJ called himself playing old school songs for the dads every so often, and played the lead-in to Da Butt. Again, all the dads kind of stopped like...we can’t do Da Butt with THEM. And the DJ stopped it before it got anywhere near the raunchy parts, but still...it brought home again that party songs have been crazy for a long time, and are only getting crazier, and when my girls start going to dances and parties on their own, the DJ is not going to be trying to work around the raunchy parts. Heaven help me.

But. That said, we still had a ball. And, after the dance, I took them out to dinner at Red Lobster.

When I got home after the dance, and the kids were all tucked in bed, I tried to get my mind right to go to work. As I pointed out at the start of this article, I had a bunch of work that I left hanging to go on my way more important date. But with the date over, that other work still had to be done. Plus, there was potentially more...see, I also work at nights now. All told, I legitimately get paid for contributions that I make to five different organizations, in addition to my main full-time job. On the TV show In Living Color, there used to be a recurring skit about this family of immigrants that each had like 10 jobs. These days, that’s me.

Last night, after the dance, I was legitimately exhausted. I’ve been going hard for months now, working literally day and night. I don’t sleep much. I just completed three work trips in two weeks, got back on Wednesday night. I’m always tired, but I work through it. Last night, my wife saw me trying to get myself together for another night, and she was concerned. She asked if I thought I should quit some of the jobs as too much. She asked me if it was worth it.

And...I had to think about it. Because man, even I’m starting to miss sleep. I have no energy to work out, ever, so I’m steadily gaining weight. My dad passed away when he was only 54 years old, after he worked himself to the bone, and...that age isn’t so far away anymore. I joked earlier about the family on In Living Color, but in real life my dad was my example on that front. That man worked at least two shifts, if not all three, for pretty much the whole of my life. Even after he was diagnosed with diabetes, and his kidneys failed, he kept a job...right up until the end. My mom always says that he regretted the time that he didn’t get to spend with us because he worked so much, and we all feel like all of the crazy work hours he pulled contributed to his illnesses.

But you know...as I have grown up, gotten married, become a father myself...I understand Elliott Snellings on an entirely new level. In a way that I was never equipped to, when he was still alive, because I wasn’t a dad yet. But now I am.

And...yes...it’s worth it.

When I can take my girls out on a date and make them smile, it’s worth it.

When I can take the family on a trip (even if it’s a work trip) and everyone has a ball, like this week, it’s worth it.

When we can live in a house in a safe neighborhood, send the kids to good schools, and keep the daggone lights on so they can see enough to get into reading like their dad..it’s worth it.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to be a martyr. I got all the education I could get, I’ve got a good job and some good opportunities that Elliott never had. I’m hoping and praying that I don’t have to keep working like this indefinitely, and that hopefully I’m on the cusp of being able to get some occasional sleep myself. It feels like a dream, but sleep is possible, or so I’m told. 

But on the real, another part is happy that my kids get to see me work like this, at a time that they’ll remember it. The same way that I hope to show my daughters, by example, the way a man should treat them, I also want to show all of my children the way that a parent that loves their family has to be willing to work. This week had Take Your Children to Work Day, and I brought all three of them with me to the office for a bit.

I ain’t a perfect dude. I don’t always say the right thing, do the right thing, make the right decisions. But man...I’m trying. And won’t nobody ever be able to say that I don’t love my kids with everything I got inside of me. Like I said before...whatever I gotta do to make sure that my kids know that they are loved, valued, and protected…that’s what I gotta do. That’s what I’m happy to do. That’s why I understand Elliott so much better, now that I walk in his shoes.

Because that’s what it means to be a dad.

Don’t miss

Diary of a father of little girls, Part 1

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