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contrarywiseizybel · 2 years

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Kinktober 2022

Day 20: Barty Crouch Jr./Luna Lovegood (pampering)

When his father died from a stroke, there were no other Crouches.

As far as the world was concerned, there were no Crouches at all.

Because the world thought he had died in that tiny cell on that dark island surrounded by those shadowy monsters. Because the world didn’t know about the promise Mrs. Crouch had gotten from her husband and the sacrifice she made to ensure her son’s freedom. Because the world would never know that Barty Crouch Jr. had escaped one prison only to be trapped in another.

And then his father died and he was alone with only Winky who couldn’t free him even when her orders had been given by a dead man.

But then, she had found him.

His Moon, with her silver blond hair that fell in tangled waves and framed her paper pale face. His Moon, with her radish earrings and bottle cap necklace. His moon, with her pale blue eyes that found his own even under the invisibility cloak.

Luna Lovegood was his distant cousin, related as all purebloods were if one just looked through the family tree long enough. Despite the fact that they had never met, despite the fact that his father had never met her either, she was apparently the closest relative and had therefore inherited the Crouch family home. And when she found him huddled in the basement, locked away with only a scared house elf for company, she had merely smiled and asked if he’d like to visit her house.

He had, of course, said yes.

And in her cottage Luna cared for him, letting Winky return to cooking and cleaning without fear of her master being hurt. Luna let him wander the grounds, carefully warded to keep away wrackstrumps with the unintended bonus of keeping away Aurors. Luna let him help in the garden, where they planted hemlock and daisies to keep away uninvited guests. Luna let him sleep in her bed, under the crystal wind chimes that would sound if a gruvvel or a death eater broke into the house.

She would bake him bread, adding the butter and jam exactly how he liked it all before he had even woke up. She would draw him baths, full of colored bubbles and homemade salts where she would message soaps into his once matted hair. She would sink to her knees, pulling his cock into her mouth when he head was too full of anxiety and fear, until she could bring him away from his panic and back to the pleasure she held.

And she was never angry, not when he screamed into her feather stuffed pillows. She was never scared, not when his magic bubbled out of him like lava unable to remain underground. She was never disgusted, not when his hand wrapped around her throat to hold her close while he hips snapped against her back.

He also thought she enjoyed those little displays.

Because afterwards, when all the hatred for his father, for his master, for himself, when all of it drained away she would make them both honey sweet tea and pull him against her while the fire crackled merrily. She would run her nails through his hair, each finger painted different colors and covered with little rhinestones that fell off all over the house. She would let him settle against her bare breasts, humming a made up song while he just breathed in the calming scent of her.

And when she proposed marriage, his only request was that there were no more Crouches.

Only her and her husband, Bartholomew Lovegood.

#kinktober #kinktober 2022 #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #Barty Crouch Jr/Luna Lovegood

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talldarkandroguesome · 2 years

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4th of Midyear, Loredas

I am exhausted. I managed to meet all eight of my appointments, plus two more that were sprung upon me. I felt as though I had been put through a meat grinder afterwards. I suppose the tension of keeping myself rigid for so many hours made my whole body sore, aching really. I almost missed supper entirely for being so thoroughly worn out.

I think I managed a small bowl of radish soup and pickles with steamed amaranth and a glass of sujamma before I was starting to nod off at the table. Avon and Cheerz helped me into bed and discussed that they did not expect I would be able to continue at such a pace.

Half awake, I mentioned about my idea concerning scheduling and Avon told me he had already seen to it that for the rest of the week I did not have more than three appointments a day, on account of the fact I had duties to attend to. Cheerz had been starting to make a calendar of appointments for me.

They helped me to get undressed and washed up and into bed. Avon used some magicka to relieve much of the pain and tightness of my muscles to help me relax into slumber.

He asked me why I had accepted such an unreasonable number of invitations.

I had to explain to him that since I had been ambushed by the first invitation, I could not snub though of the Councilmer’s rivals, lest someone believe I was making a show of alliance. Then since I had accepted other invitations, I could not be seen to turn down or postpone the invitations of those appointments’ rivals. It was a rather vicious cycle.

One which I had to nearly repeat again today.

Luckily Avon and Cheerz had me go through the alliances of the Council, so far as I knew them, so they could try and spread out who was having what accepted. Avon also sent word to Mother to ask for her advice on any other tensions held by her fellow Councilmer that I may not be aware of. He told me to leave the scheduling up to him and that Cheerz and he would ensure that I did not have to kill myself over placating the Council’s inner disputes.

Today I had only five appointments, my last day of more than three a day. So many poor excuses as to why a sister, daughter, neice, aunt, granddaughter, cousin, or other distant relation might just so happen to be around and could provide entertainment or company.

To be honest, at this rate, I shall make an effort to court the first lady whose first meeting is not part of some poor scheme to gain power or influence. Or, no, I shall court the lady chosen by whichever Councilmer is actually honest about their intentions upon a meeting.

Considering how many are clearly asking for a meeting to the same end, I do not understand the need for all the false invitations. What is the point of them when everyone is well aware of what is truly happening.

I am hardly one to turn down an opportune lie, but this is ridiculous! In fact, should some lady on the street simply come up to me and proposition me in any way, I shall court her simply to prove the point that I value an end to the atrocious lying for no reason.

Let them see that I would rather consider a woman in rags than their well-bred half daughter if it means I am being given an honest reason for meeting.

I think perhaps I am too tired to be articulate. Or to write more. I want to hear no more poetry or political analysis or music or historical recitations or interesting facts about foreign locations for a long while. The Three preserve me from this Sheogorath curse of courtship.

#ESO #TES #RP #Dunmer #Elder Scrolls Online #The Elder Scrolls

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nie-smh-my-head-huaisang · 3 years

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Okay so.

Lan Zhan is the band teacher at the local high school and Wei Ying is a very supportive parent that goes to every band function and Lan Zhan is trying to figure out which kid is his so he knows which on to never wrong.

It's gotta be one of the ferals right. Surely it is not his most well behaved student.

It is.

The Wei Yuan thing should have been a dead giveaway. But he introduces himself as Wen Yuan so he kind of missed it.

His younger distant cousin Lan Jingyi mentions over dinner that he went over to the Wei Household, and was assassinated by Wei Ying's spicy congee. Wei Ying also threatened to adopt him and he was honestly very touched.

Jingyi becomes Mr. Lan's primary source of information on his crush.

"Mr. Wei and Yuan live with their big extended family. Mr. Wei's mom is the coolest old person I have ever met." And Lan Zhan is like "is she as cool as our great great grandmother Lan Yi?" And Jingyi is like "ya. She let me drive her to the convenience store." And Lan Zhan and Lan Huan have a whole heart attack because Jingyi does not have his driver's permit.

"Grandpa Wei reminds me of you wangji" "explain" "does not speak unless forced to." "Mn"

"Yuan's cousins are really cool, one's a doctor so I've only seen her once when we were awake at ass"o"clock and she was off her graveyard shift and she brought home mcdonald's and the other cousin let us help man the booth at the farmers market last Sunday and Mr. Wei let me take home some radishes and gave me 50 bucks."

Lan Huan is like "do you like going over there because they let you get away with things and feed you junk?" And Jingyi sips his tea and is like "perhaps."

But Lan Zhan picks up that Wei Ying works the farmers market on Sundays, so next time Jingyi helps them out, Lan Zhan will pick him up. Just that. And not to hit on the supportive band mom.

So Lan Zhan goes to the Farmer's Market and Wei Ying is passed the fuck out back there. So Lan Zhan has to pass by a few times. Finally when he's awake, he freaks out because Jingyi and Sizhui did not tell him that the hot band teacher was there and saw him snoring in public.

And now Lan Zhan has to deal with the fact that Wei Ying knows him as "The Hot Band Teacher"

#hot band teacher wangji AU #wangxian #jingyi is a gift helping his older cousin get it in #wei ying is just farming with his family while he's back to school to become an elementary school teacher #he loves kids and only had the one so this is his chance to become someone's second mom #had in quotation marks since he adopted the hell out of that baby #if you ask he will say a-yuan came straight from his womb tho

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stiltonbasket · 3 years

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this is my own little indulgent headcanon for my daydream universe in which the universe you've created heavily features in, but what are your thoughts with chunyang falling in love with the reincarnation of wen qing or even just another woman? maybe its bc im gay but even tho i love jz/jyl i think jyl should have gotten to be with a lovely young lady. and the line about "i'd like to choose [who i marry]" makes me go *thinking emoji*. idk if its ur thing but i would die if u wrote smth for this

I could not stop thinking about this, so have a little au with fem!jin hong! <3

To his most esteemed Excellency…

“Chun-bao?”

Considering the decade of close friendship between our clans…

“Hm?”

“Is everything all right?” Wei Shuilan asks, poking her younger sister in the shoulder. “You’ve been staring at that letter for the past five minutes.”

And the closeness of age between my son Zhang Xiting and your daughter, the second Young Mistress Wei--

“Oh, it’s just--just a petition for Father. I’m sorting them out so he knows which ones to look at first when he comes home.”

...I would be most honored if you would consider his suit when the time is right for Wei Chunyang-xiaojie to be married.

Even though Wei Chunyang and all four of her siblings have long since grown old enough to move out of their parents’ house, the whole family still eats meals together in the jingshi at least four times a week. The whole family includes Jingyi, of course, since he was part of the family even before he and Chunyang’s xiongzhang decided to adopt a son together, and her Yu-gege’s own husband and son. Her sister Shuilan is here, too, since she and Chunyang still live with their A-Die and Fuqin, and sometimes Xichen-bobo or one of their more distant cousins comes along, too.

Today, the cousin in question is Rulan-ge’s daughter, Jin Hong. She was Wei Chunyang’s best friend growing up, since the two of them are the same age, but they drifted apart as they grew older--out of no fault on either of their parts, but because of circumstance. Jin Hong rarely has the time to leave the Jinlintai or answer Chunyang’s letters, and Chunyang never had the chance to go to school with her because she studies the dao of healing cultivation like her Uncle Xichen, while Jin Hong follows the jiandao.

These days, Chunyang doesn’t really know what to say to her on the rare occasions their paths do cross, which is why she only gives Jin Hong a close-lipped smile and slides into her usual seat at A-Die’s right when lunchtime rolls around.

“Jin Hong,” she says, inclining her head as A-Die (doting as ever, just like Papa) fills up her plate with soft white rice, and adds a little bowl of her favorite spicy noodles on the side. “It’s lovely to see you again!”

And confusing, Chunyang doesn’t add. But there’s not much talking at meals anyway, because her brother-in-law Nie Zhuyan (who managed to woo her brother Lan Yu after five long years of courtship, even though Lan Yu didn’t know he was being courted for the first four years, eleven months, and twenty-seven days) is more of a stickler for the sect precepts than the rest of the family, out of the fear that he might offend Papa by accident.

A-Die is enough conversation for the whole table, though, and there is plenty of laughter--both his and Yu-gege’s, and then everyone else’s, which is why Chunyang could probably have chosen a better time to tell her parents about Zhoushan Zhang’s request for her hand in marriage.

“They what?” A-Die gasps, overturning his cup of tea. Xiongzhang gives him a handkerchief, but he looks as worried as A-Die and Papa do when he turns around to stare at her. “You can’t get married! You’re only twenty-one! You’re a baby!”

“She’s of age,” Shuilan-jie points out, in a vain effort to distract everyone from the rivalry-slash-courtship-slash-bitter enmity thing she has going on with one of the sect’s best music teachers, Lan Fang, who spends all his time writing sad love songs for her and crying every time she tells him she hates him. “She can get married if she wants to, right?”

“If she wants to, then certainly,” Papa says, trying to sound like he isn’t fretting. “But that is not your elders’ place to decide, Chun-bao, and certainly not Zhoushan Zhang’s. Do you know the young master they offered?”

“No,” she admits. Zhang Xiting attended the Lan sect lectures when she was around fifteen, but Chunyang only ever met him at the opening and closing ceremonies because her classes were in the physicians’ compound with her uncle. “I was going to write back this afternoon with a rejection, actually.”

Across from her, Jin Hong’s shoulders relax a little.

“Ah, that’s good,” A-Die sighs, patting her hand. “I knew we were going to have to think about this sometime, of course, but you really are too young! Look, even your jiejie isn’t married yet.”

Wei Shuilan looks so offended that Jingyi-ge starts choking in an attempt to hide his laughter. “I’m never going to get married. A-Chun doesn’t have to wait for me.”

“I meant that Chunyang should follow your example, A-Lan. Marriage is overrated.”

Nie Zhuyan gives A-Die an incredulous sort of stare. “But father-in-law, you’re happily married! And so am I. Being wed is wonderful!”

“Not for my baby girls,” A-Die counters, while Lan Yu covers his face with his sleeve to hide his blush. “Where in the world am I supposed to find a man worthy of A-Lan, hm? Or a nice young master for my sweet little Chun-bao? I don’t believe they exist, so they’re going to be good little radishes and stay with their poor old A-Die until he dies.”

“Wei Ying,” Father says, clearly pained by even the thought of A-Die dying. “Do not say such things.”

I don’t want to marry any young master, Chunyang thinks, as Yu-gege starts teasing Shuilan about Lan Fang again. I just want to stay here, with my parents.

(She doesn’t think of warm orange fur, or a pair of laughing golden eyes, or the countless letters to Lanling Jin that her once-best friend never answered.

It’s better this way, after all.)

#wangxian #mo dao zu shi #the untamed #my fic #wei chunyang #okay okay so for everyone who's curious #jin hong had her gay awakening when she was around 12 #and panicked because lanling is pretty homophobic tbh #outside her family that is #and she's afraid she'll damage her dad's position and reputation if she gets involved with another girl #so she tried to distance herself from wcy in an effort to drown her feelings #but it didn't work #and all it did was break wcy's heart jin zixuan style #and yes jin hong's mother is nie shiyong #she too is a tiger shifter #anon lmk if you want to see a follow up with a chunhong confession scene!#prompt fill

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worryinglyinnocent · 4 years

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Fic: Shimmer and Shine

AU-gust Day Three: Soulmates AU Fandom: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power Pairing: Scorfuma

Rated: G

Summary: Perfuma is unique among princesses in that she doesn’t have a soulmate – her soul mark has never glowed. When Scorpia arrives in Bright Moon and reveals her own inactive soul mark, Perfuma begins to wonder.

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Shimmer and Shine

Every princess had a soulmate. That was just a fact that everyone knew. Every time a princess was born, there would be someone in the world who was her soulmate. They might not have been born yet themselves, but they were out there somewhere in the cosmos no matter what state they were in.

Like all other princesses, Perfuma was brought up on the idea of soulmates. She’d never had any doubt that she would find hers eventually, but as time had gone on and as she’d grown up, she’d noticed that there was something just a little bit different about her soul mark, and it made her wonder a bit whether or not the old legends were true after all.

According to all the stories that her mother had told her, a princess’s soul mark would shimmer with a faint glow of silver until she met her soulmate, whereupon it would turn its true colour. Perfuma’s mark had never shimmered. It was just there on her chest, a slightly darker brown than the rest of her skin, but otherwise unnoticeable as anything, easily passed off as a birthmark or a cluster of freckles.

She knew that her mother had been worried about it, concerned that there was something happening that meant Perfuma would never find her soulmate. Perfuma herself wasn’t quite so concerned. There had to be a perfectly logical explanation for it somehow, and if there wasn’t, well, maybe she was just the odd princess out. She’d always been happy in her life without having someone bonded to her by fate to share it with.

It was only very occasionally that she lay awake wondering if she was broken, fearing that maybe there was someone out there who was desperately looking for her and unable to find her because something about her soul wasn’t working properly. In a way, that upset her more than the idea of not finding a soulmate for herself – someone else not finding their soulmate because of her.

It was only really once she joined up with the other princesses that she really began to notice that something was wrong. All of their soul marks shimmered in the way that they were supposed to. Glimmer’s had turned its true lilac colour upon her meeting Bow. Spinnerella and Netossa had each other. Entrapta, Mermista and Frosta had not yet met their soulmates, but their marks still shimmered silver to show that they were out there somewhere.

Perfuma knew that it was a point of discussion among the princess alliance that her soul mark was… different, but she had never let that get to her. Maybe her soulmate was just very far away. After all this talk of Etheria being pulled out of its home dimension, maybe her soulmate was on a different planet and that’s why her mark was behaving strangely. There had to be a perfectly reasonable explanation for it, and that was the one that seemed to fit the most neatly, so that was the one that she was going to stick with.

After the first few occasions that Glimmer had tentatively broached the subject with her, and after receiving the same steadfast reply concerning other planets, the topic had been dropped. Perfuma didn’t have a soulmate on Etheria, and that was that. Conversation closed, move along please. It was never something that she had been particularly touchy about before, but now that she was here among all these princesses with soul marks that did what they were supposed to do, she was becoming more and more self-conscious about it. The little voice in the back of her head that had always warned her that there was something broken about her was becoming louder and louder, harder to push down under positive thinking.

Until Scorpia.

Scorpia had brought it up in conversation so naturally and without agenda, as was her way. The more time that she spent with Scorpia, the more Perfuma began to believe that Scorpia had never had an agenda in her entire life and had just gone along with the Horde and with Catra because she didn’t really have another choice. Once she realised she did have a choice, she had left. That had to account for something, in Perfuma’s eyes.

They were sitting together in the spare room that they were holding Scorpia in until she was deemed properly trustworthy, Perfuma trying to get her to try various vegetables (lettuce was a dead loss, but tomatoes and radishes had proved to her liking), when Scorpia pointed one pincer towards the mark on Perfuma’s chest.

“Huh. I have one of those too.”

It made sense, Scorpia was a princess like they were, after all, even if in very different circumstances and with no kingdom to protect. Perfuma leaned in a little closer and saw the soul mark, just slightly darker than the rest of Scorpia’s skin. Not shimmering silver. Not a true colour like Glimmer’s. Just… dormant, like her own.

Perfuma looked up and met Scorpia’s eyes. The other princess was looking at her with her head on one side, and Perfuma wondered if something in her stance had betrayed her thinking.

“Are you ok? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Wait, does this mean we’re distant cousins or something? We both have the same birthmark!”

Perfuma shook her head. “No, that’s your soul mark. Every princess has one. It changes colour when you meet your soulmate. At least, that’s the theory.”

“Oh.” Scorpia looked down at her own soul mark, going cross-eyed in the process. “I guess I haven’t met mine yet then. I thought I had. You know, I really thought that Catra and I had that connection, but it wasn’t to be. I really wanted it to be. I tried so hard to make it be.”

Perfuma reached out and touched Scorpia’s pincer gently. “It’s not really a friendship – or a soul bond – if the other person isn’t willing to meet you halfway,” she said. “It’s not fair if you’re the only one putting the work in.”

Scorpia nodded sadly. “Yes. I know. It took me a long time to realise it, but I know. So, I’m here now. Maybe I’ll get better at this whole ‘friend’ thing without Catra around.”

“It’s hard to lose a friend,” Perfuma agreed. She didn’t really know from experience. She’d never really lost friends in the same way that Scorpia had broken with Catra. She just knew that Scorpia was having something of an identity crisis, and Perfuma had had enough of those in her time to be able to sympathise.

The conversation turned to other things, but Perfuma’s mind kept coming back to Scorpia’s soul mark. The fact that it didn’t behave as it ought to didn’t seem to bother her, just as it had not bothered Perfuma at first. Maybe there was a lesson to be learned here. All the same, she had to wonder why it didn’t shimmer.

The part of her that had grown up hating and fearing the Horde told her that the answer was simple. Scorpia was a Horde soldier, ergo she was evil, and evil people didn’t have soulmates.

The part of her that had grown up and matured considerably since becoming the ruler of Plumeria and since becoming part of the princess alliance and part of the war told her that it was a lot more complicated than that. Scorpia wasn’t evil. Not really, not deep down. She was misguided, but she cared. She had a heart, and from the way she talked about Catra, it was clear that she knew how to use it and she’d had it horribly broken. She could love in just the same way as the rest of them.

Later, once Glimmer had come in to take over keeping watch over their prisoner – not that Scorpia needed much watching, she was curled up and snoring against Emily – Perfuma lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, her hand covering her soul mark. Something felt different about it tonight. Maybe it was just because she no longer felt like an oddity. She was no longer the only princess with a dormant soul mark, the only princess without a soulmate. She had a kindred spirit in Scorpia.

Suddenly she sat bolt upright. Was that it, maybe? Was Scorpia her soulmate, and they just hadn’t realised it because they both had weird soul marks that didn’t work properly?

Perfuma sighed and lay back down. That was probably not the reason. Scorpia’s Horde background was a clear reason for hers. Perfuma still didn’t know what was going on with her own, and now it had been brought to the forefront of her mind again. She found that she didn’t mind Scorpia talking about it though. Her innocent ignorance meant she had no preconceived notions, no little voice telling her in the back of her head that maybe there was something wrong with her.

Perfuma closed her eyes. Maybe, even if she wasn’t destined to find a soulmate, she could still find a true friend in Scorpia.

As lovely as it always was to spend time in Bright Moon with the other princesses, Plumeria could not be left undefended for long, and with a bunch of Horde bots sighted heading towards the runestone, Perfuma had to take her leave and protect her people. Frosta came with her, the Kingdom of Snows still too harsh a terrain to be in danger from the Horde whilst there were places more easily conquered to attack.

It was only when Glimmer followed through on her plan to activate the Heart of Etheria that everything fell into place and Perfuma realised what had been missing for all that time when she had been battling the thought that she was broken. Of course, what with everything that was going on at the time, it wasn’t until afterwards that she really had the opportunity to process it.

“This is so cool!”

Perfuma had to agree with Frosta; having the extra power from the release of the Heart’s magic was definitely an advantage, but there was something about it that didn’t quite feel right. It felt too wild, too out of control for her. Scorpia had reconnected to the Black Garnet and the planet was in balance again, but at what cost? Was everything really about to explode out of existence like Adora and Bow had warned that it would?

The power was taking over now, and Perfuma shot out a vine to catch Frosta as she fell under the strain of it. This was definitely not a good outcome. The heart wasn’t super-powering them now, it was draining them, pulling out the extra charge they’d received and leaving them weaker than before. She dragged herself over to Frosta on leaden feet, uncaring for the few bots that were left around them. There was nothing that she could do to stop them now anyway, not with her power beyond her own magic.

“Perfuma… You’re shimmering.” Frosta pointed towards her chest, and Perfuma looked down at her soul mark, shimmering silver for the first time in her life. Was it receiving the magic from the heart that had done it?

There was no more time to think any further on it. Everything was getting to be too much, and she could barely keep her eyes open as it was. She could hear Scorpia’s voice, then feel her strong arms around her and Frosta, huddling together in an attempt to keep them safe, although from what she didn’t know, since Scorpia was just as affected as they were.

She felt the warmth of magic pulse in her chest, a happy, positive feeling that lasted for just a split second in the midst of all the draining pain, and then she blacked out.

“She’s awake!”

The first thing that Perfuma saw on opening her eyes was Frosta’s face looming over hers, shortly replaced by Scorpia’s looming in even closer, and she had to blink a few times before they backed off enough to let her sit up without head-butting one of them.

“Are you ok?” Scorpia was patting her down for injury, no mean feat with pincers, but despite feeling like she’d been run down by a stampeding plant golem, Perfuma could only focus on one thing. Scorpia’s soul mark, barely visible before, was now a deep garnet red. She not only had a soulmate; she’d found that soulmate. She remembered her own mark shimmering silver just as the heart had started to take over and looked down at her own chest. There it was: a beautiful jade green.

She looked up at Scorpia, who shrugged, her expression sheepish.

That’s why her soul mark hadn’t shimmered properly. Her soul mate was Scorpia, a princess not connected to her own destiny.

None of the other princesses who had met their own soulmates had really been able to tell her what it had felt like when that connection had finally been made. It was something happy, and positive, and personal, and it was different for everyone. It wasn’t really something that could be described. You just knew.

Perfuma knew, now. And it looked like Scorpia knew too, from the way she was gnawing on the tip of her pincer and looking a bit worried, colour rising in her pale cheeks. A little way off, Frosta was looking at them with unadulterated glee.

“You know, I think I should be throwing confetti or something,” she said. “This is so great! I’ve never seen two soulmates actually meet before!”

Perfuma just threw her arms around Scorpia as Frosta cheered from the side lines. In addition to the burst of happiness, the most overwhelming sensation was one of relief. It had all turned out well in the end. She wasn’t broken, and neither was Scorpia. Despite everything that stood between them – the Horde, the Black Garnet, miles upon miles of Etheria – they’d still managed to find each other. It had just taken them a little time, that was all.

As loath as she was to break away from their hug, eventually they had to let go of each other. There was going to be a lot of clean-up after this, and who knew what else might have happened as a result of the Heart being activated.

Still, no matter what they had to face, they would be able to face it together. Soulmates.

#SPOP #She-Ra and the Princesses of Power #Perfuma #Scorpia #Scorfuma #Soulmates AU #AU-gust #Worry does AU-gust #Fic: Shimmer and Shine

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ask-frederick · 5 years

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While young Lucina and Owain has teachers and professors to educate them on being a royal, have you thought of having someone from Askr or Smash Bros aid with their development? Many of them have unique styles on running a Kingdom, so their choices are endless. Hero King Marth might be happy to teach them, but I recommend Princess Daisy. I have a feeling that she'll be the most influential.

“Influential in what regard? Teaching my young lieges how to throw radishes at people they disagree with? Or per chance teaching young Lady Lucina to assail others with her rump? Or when young Lord Owain is born, perhaps you’d have Princess Daisy teach him to shout instead of speaking at appropriate volumes?”

“No, I believe the various tutors, masters-at-arms, and instructors the royal family has lined up for the younger generation shall suit them just fine. And if we need any outside help, I suppose I could be convinced to ask someone eloquent, refined, and morally upright to come lend them a bit of extra instruction. I believe Princesses Zelda, Celica, and Gunnthrá might do as role models for Lady Lucina; all three are brave, wise, kind, and unafraid to make a stand for their people. And, hm... perhaps Prince Alm, Lord Eliwood, and Lady Palutena could teach young Lord Owain a thing or two about calmly considering his actions instead of charging recklessly into danger... like his uncle.”

“In any event, I shall have my own share of work cut out for me in the years to come. Young Lady Lucina is nearing her second year, and is already walking, talking, and terrorising her maids. If her cousin is to be following in her footsteps in the not-too-distant future, then I’d best gird myself for the chaos to come. I’m afraid a knight’s work seldom ends when a war does...”

#fire emblem #frederick answers #let's be real: Chrom and Lissa are going to leave 99% of the babysitting to Fred after they're done with wars and Smash Bros and the like #they'll be good enough parents #but Fred is still going to be the star of Ylissean Supernanny #(as he has always been)#long'queue #Anonymous

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randomly-random-jen · 5 years

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Uncalled For Actions (8/?)

A Girl Genius Fanfic

When Gilgamesh Holzfäller is fourteen, he’s taken on as an apprentice to Baron Wulfenbach as part of a program to produce the next generation of leaders in the Empire–a group that will hopefully get along (although most see this as wishful thinking on the Baron’s part). He’s learned a lot over the months of shadowing the Baron, but nothing has prepared him for his most challenging assignment: confronting the skeletons in his closet.

[Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | Part 9 ]

Part 8

"He should probably loosen up."

Anevka removed the glass of disputed wine, handing it to the waiter pouring new glasses of red wine. "Tarvek has been loose enough today, don't you think?"

"I'm sure he could be looser; he used to be a lot of fun when we were kids," Gil said without thinking.

"Wait," said Seffie, "Tarvek was fun? I find that hard to believe--old stuffy-pants wouldn't know fun if it smacked that annoying, smug look he always has off his boring face."

Gil nodded, taking a sip of his new glass of wine. "Oh, yeah, we used to have tons of fun.” He scratched his head with a frown into the red liquid. "I wonder what happened?"

Tarvek growled; his grip on his fork turning white while his face flushed darker than his hair. "Oh, I don't know," he said, jaw clenched tight. "Might have something to do with being betrayed and sent home in disgrace after just nine months."

A sudden burst of shame shot through Gil. "Right," he mumbled. He felt sick to his stomach that had nothing to do with his foggy brain and sudden lack of taste buds. Had he really just said that out loud and in front of Tarvek? What was he thinking?

Gil slid his arm from around Seffie, setting her back on her own chair. She glanced between the two of them, a hungry look in her eyes. "Ooh, this sounds juicy--what aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing," Gil said while Tarvek just looked away.

"Come on, Gil," she prodded. "You can't drop a bomb like Prince Stick-Up-His-Butt had a life and not explain--I am the information gatherer, you said. I need to gather this information."

"Just drop it, Seffie," Anevka said softly. "It's obviously none of your business."

"Pff, such an amateur mistake, cousin. Now I must know what happened."

Yeah, never going to happen, Gil thought as he stuffed his mouth full of vegetables and finished off his wine before he even finished chewing.

Seffie poked him in the ribs. "Come on, Gil, you can tell me."

Gil swallowed down the tasteless food, shaking his head. "No way," he said, except what actually came out of his mouth was, "well, this one time we were wandering around Castle Wulfenbach when we found this room full of naked mannequins. I have no idea why they were naked or why there was a room full of them, but Tarvek just had to-"

"Stop it," Anevka said, looking nervously between Gil and her brother.

"But this was just getting interesting," Seffie said as she leaned forward, her chin propped on her hand. "Tell me more."

Gil fought back the urge to continue the story--what was wrong with him? The more Seffie cajoled him, the less resistance he seemed to have and the more the fog seemed to fill his mind.

"Enough, Seffie," Tarvek finally said, slamming his hand down between them, rattling the silver, “or I’ll start telling stories about you.”

"There are no stories about me; I'm perfect--Grandmama told me so."

Anevka rolled her eyes. "Grandmother tells everyone that."

"But she really means it for me."

"She tell you that, too?" Tarvek grumbled. "I do seem to recall this one time when you were five-”

"Shut up, shut up, shut up," Seffie screeched, once again getting the attention of the entire room until Anevka kicked her under the table. "You said we'd never speak of that again."

The table grew suddenly silent, sending a shiver down Gil's back. A stern looking woman with a pinched face and severe gray bun strolled over to stand behind Anevka.

"Is there a problem, Master Tarvek," she asked, voice low and threatening.

The standoff with Seffie lasted a moment longer before Tarvek looked away, sitting ramrod straight, eyes staring right past Gil. "Everything is fine, Frau Heinlein."

The woman considered the three--now Anevka and Seffie were sitting straight, hands in her laps, eyes distant--then nodded, walking stiffly away.

The silence at the table grew until the woman disappeared then it was if everyone let out a sigh of relief at the same time and went back to their conversations like nothing happened.

What just happened?

* * *

Tarvek remained completely still long after Frau Heinlein exited the room, leaving behind a chill over his flushed skin. He forced the lump down in his throat--she always had that effect on him, like he was drowning in his own terror.

Gil glanced around the group--none of them making eye contact with him or each other. "Who was that?" he asked, keeping a wary eye on the door she'd exited through.

"That's the nanny,” Seffie whispered. “She’s scary.”

"That's your nanny?" Gil asked Tarvek a little louder than he'd intended. "And I thought von Pinn was terrifying."

Tarvek finally met Gil's gaze, a moment of familiarity flaring between them, bringing a wistful smile to Gil's lips until they both seemed to realize at the same time what they were doing and looked away in opposite directions.

No, nothing like von Pinn--she actually cared. He didn't voice that thought, instead reaching across the table for Anevka's wine; she didn't stop him, only signaled a waiter for another glass.

After that, things calmed down some as Seffie launched into a one-sided conversation none of them paid any attention to. Across from him, Gil picked at his quail, took a small bite then dropped his fork onto the plate with a look of disgust.

"You don't like fish and you don't like quail," Tarvek said. "Is there anything you do eat?"

Gil didn't look up. "I like fish just fine; this tastes like-" He pushed his entire plate away, frowning. "-nothing."

"Gil, are you well?" Seffie asked, placing her hand against his cheek.

Tarvek had to admit he looked a little pale and was listing slightly towards Seffie, but then Gil turned that guileless smile towards his younger cousin making Tarvek nearly gag on his food.

"I'm fine, thank you, maybe, I'm not sure I think okay," Gil said all in one breath before shaking his head. He focused on Seffie. "I'm okay, just not that hungry."

If Tarvek didn't know any better, he'd think those words were almost painful for Gil to say considering how forced they were and the tension in his set jaw.

"What?" Gil said, eyes narrowed at Tarvek.

Damn, he'd been staring, but now he couldn't very well look away or he'd look suspicious so he just continued to stare, matching Gil's expression.

"Boys," Anevka warned, "don't you think we've had enough drama this evening."

"Yes," Gil answered, "I've had plenty of drama. Here and here and here." He pointed at the bruises and cuts covering his face while still staring pointedly at Tarvek until Tarvek admitted defeat and ducked his head, cheeks flaming.

Anevka sighed and returned to her meal. Tarvek could feel Gil's gaze scalding his skin until he felt completely naked, his soul bared--how did he even have that power? Disgusted with himself, he downed the rest of his wine.

What is wrong with me? Holzfäller is back in my life for one day and I'm reduced to a drunken sod with a broken heart.

The thought stopped him cold. His heart was not broken--not by Gilgamesh Holzfäller for sure. He just had a lot of buried trauma he'd yet to unpack from his childhood that Gil was nice enough to trigger by showing up at his own house, in service to the Baron, no less--the person that had destroyed Tarvek's young life with a swift dismissal bereft of any explanation on Tarvek's end.

That's all it was--displaced anger over the cruelty he suffered as a child. It had nothing to do with Holzfäller himself.

"Why are you staring at me?" Gil demanded suddenly, startling the people sitting around them.

Or maybe it was just Gil he was angry with.

"Why are you even here?" Tarvek asked, annoyed with himself for caring.

Gil's eyes narrowed dangerously. "What did you say?"

The stare-down lasted several moments until a chime sounded the beginning of the next course. Tarvek let out a relieved breath as waiters poured out of the kitchen, replacing half-eaten entrees with fresh radish-onion salads much to the chagrin of many of the children at the table.

"What is wrong with you?" Anevka asked, leaning close while Gil and Seffie whispered to each other.

"I'm fine."

She glanced from him to Gil then back. "I thought you said you weren't hung up on him?"

"I'm not."

"Well, you're not acting like it, and you're being rude to our guest. Quit antagonizing him or I'll let Seffie tell some of her stories," she finished with a satisfied grin.

"What will you let Seffie do?" Seffie asked.

"Nothing," Tarvek muttered before Anevka could answer.

Seffie obviously didn't buy it which meant she'd keep needling him until he snapped again--she was good at getting information when she wanted it, and Seffie always wanted information. He needed to be more careful.

The salad did nothing to improve anyone's spirits at the table. Many of the younger children made a game of hiding bits of it in napkins and skirts before their nannies and caretakers could catch them. Others simply threw it at each other. None of them ate any.

Even Tarvek didn't have the appetite for radishes and onions drizzled in some kind of too-sweet vinaigrette. How does one even make vinegar sweet?

Tarvek sighed, sipping his wine that Anevka had stopped protesting probably because she knew if she needed it that much to get through the night then he probably needed it more.

Or she just got tired of fighting him.

And Seffie because she was on her third glass and listing slightly despite Anevka watering it down drastically--Grandmother was going to kill them if she caught Seffie drunk.

Across from him, Gil frowned at his plate, blinked a few times then rolled his eyes into the back of his head like he was having an annoying conversation with his salad. Tarvek wondered what the hell he was thinking but knew better than to ask. That would look to Anevka a little too much like he cared when really he was just bored out of his mind.

And curious. Damn him for being curious about what Gil had been up to the last five years. How did he get to be an apprentice? Of the Baron, no less.

He wanted to know why and how Gil could go from being nobody to such a prestigious appointment. Did it have something to do with what happened that night--what they found in the vaults? Or what they didn't find? Why couldn't he just let it go?

Gil and the mystery of his family and why he was here after all this time. He hated to admit Anevka was right--he was hung up on Holzfäller and needed to find a way to get over him or this week would be an even bigger disaster than he'd first predicted.

"You're being rude again," his sister whispered into his ear then tousled his hair.

Tarvek smacked her hand away and took another sip of wine, noticing Gil had finished his already. In fact, by Tarvek's count, Gil had more wine than the rest of them but seemed sober enough, ignoring the dopey look on his face that was currently directed at Seffie.

"Holzfäller," Tarvek said, startling the other boy to nearly falling off his chair, "are you flirting with my cousin?"

"So what if I am?" Gil said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"She's eleven and off limits."

"Tarvek," Seffie shouted, facing blazing red, "mind your own business."

Anevka took a deep breath, holding a hand up to stop Seffie's growing outburst. "No, I'm on Tarvek's side here--Gil is too old for you."

"I'm almost twelve."

Tarvek crossed his arms, matching Gil. "And he's almost fifteen."

Gil's eyebrow shot up and Tarvek wanted to kick himself for giving away that he knew even the smallest intimate detail of the other boy's life. After a moment, Gil looked away with a sigh, picked up his wine glass, and seeing it was empty, set it back down.

"I wasn't flirting--or I didn't mean to."

Seffie let out an indignant huff which Gil answered with a mumbled apology to the table before Seffie stomped off. Other diners sitting close to them stopped to watch but then went back to their own conversations at Anevka's threatening stare.

Tarvek shook his head. "You're not very good with girls, are you?"

"Leave him alone, Tarvek," Anevka said just as their father stood at the head table, tapping his wine glass to get everyone's attention. Both Tarvek and Anevka groaned getting a questioning look from Gil.

"And now we enter the parental embarrassment portion of the evening," said Anevka, getting a giggle from one of their cousins sitting next to her.

As their father began droning on about what an honor it was to have the Baron at their family dinner table, Gil twisted in his seat to watch. Tarvek tried to pay attention, but he could only see the back of Gil's head from his position and could only hear the rush of blood between his ears as he methodically took in every inch of the other boy.

Gil had gotten bigger, of course, but he looked stuck somewhere between boy and man that unnerved Tarvek--his shoulders were broader than Tarvek's own, but Gil was much thinner with arms and legs that seemed a little too long, but after their fight, he knew they hid powerful muscles.

With them, he filled his suit out well or maybe the suit was tailored for him. If he was officially the Baron's protege than it would be expected, but despite how well the suit fit, Gil appeared completely out of sorts in it--like he'd rather be in a lab coat or naked than dressed up.

Tarvek shivered at that thought and downed the last of his wine; he did not want to be thinking about Holzfäller naked. He must have made a face because it got his sister's attention and a smug smile that sent vengeful plots bouncing around his head.

She knew he was thinking about Gil and would never let him live this down, but trying to divert his thoughts elsewhere just circled back around to the other boy and how his hair curled around his ears and stuck up at odd angles just as it did when they were children. Did he even own a comb? Or how Gil still held himself like he was ready to bounce off his chair and into their next adventure--barely contained perpetual motion and raw power.

As if he also knew Tarvek's thoughts, Gil turned to give him a questioning look, head tilted in such a familiar way it nearly took Tarvek's breath away. How the hell did he do that still?

The two stared at each other, and Tarvek found himself again wondering what Gil was thinking because he was sure he could see the wheels in his mind turning in his eyes.

"What?" Gil asked again but without the derision of earlier--more like he was just as curious about what Tarvek was thinking, so naturally, Tarvek just looked away feeling more like an idiot.

He was saved any more uncomfortable moments with Seffie returning, plunking down in her seat with her arms crossed and a look like the world owed her everything her heart desired and she wasn't getting it--in other words, her normal look.

"When will this ever end," Seffie moaned, reaching for her glass and realizing with obvious distaste that it was already empty then eyeing everyone at the table like they were responsible.

* * *

Gil flipped open his pocket watch, the little hands blurring together then popped it closed without actually looking at the time. "It's only been seven minutes," he said, frowning at the closed watch that had told him nothing of the sort.

"Well if no one stops him, Uncle Aaronev will keep this up for hours--he loves to talk about himself like he was the king of the universe."

"So that's where you get it from," Anevka said, eyes twinkling with mischief Gil remembered from their adventure through the castle.

Seffie wasn't as amused as Gil at the remark though, instead, kicking her cousin under the table and apparently striking a table leg instead by the yelp of pain and growl across the table at Anevka's smirk.

The Prince was now carrying on about his family which included pretty much everyone in the room in some way. Then he moved on to his pride in his children and how amazing they were, making even Gil cringe as everyone turned their way and reluctantly raised their glasses.

"Oh, geeze," he muttered once the attention moved back to the prince, "parents are so embarrassing."

"Tell me about it," Seffie grumbled with a nod.

[ Part 9 ]

#girl genius #girl genius fanfic #gilgamesh wulfenbach #tarvek sturmvoraus #anevka sturmvoraus #seffie von blitzengaard #the awkward family dinner that never ends #sentences #days 57-63 #story: uncalled for actions

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watchend76-blog · 5 years

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18 Recipes to Kick off your Post-Holiday Reset

It's increasingly difficult to get consensus on what makes the most healthful diet, but I think we can all agree that eating more nutrient-dense plants after an overly-indulgent holiday season is a positive thing. Putting a handful of new, veg-centric recipes into rotation this time of year can help move the needle in the right direction. Hopefully this will provide a bit of inspiration! Many of the recipes are easily adaptable, and weeknight friendly. Enjoy!

1. Garlic Lime Lettuce Wraps - I love these! Ginger and garlic tempeh rice, folded into lime-spiked lettuce wraps with lots of herbs, cucumber, and carrots. A one-pan meal that comes together in no time! Get the recipe here.

2. Quick Vegan Enchiladas with Sweet Potato Sauce - These are knock-out delicious, in the oven in less that ten minutes, and a healthful alternative to all the heavy cheese versions out there. With black beans, sweet potatoes, and a stealthy turmeric boost.Get the recipe here.

3. Spicy Tahini Noodles with Roasted Vegetables - A weeknight winner! Make a simple, thinned-out tahini sauce, roast some vegetables while your pasta water is coming to a boil, toss and serve on one platter. If you like those old-school Chinese restaurant spicy peanut noodles, these are sort-of their tahini slathered distant cousinsGet the recipe here.

4. California Tom Yum Soup - The perfect antidote to holiday over-indulgence. This version is a distant relative of the vibrant, brothy tom yum soup you likely know and love. Get the recipe here.

5. Last Minute Red Lasagna - A true weeknight lasagna. No pre-cooking sauces, no pre-cooking noodles. You, literally, stir the first five ingredients together into a vibrant crushed tomato sauce, and start layering. Also, it isn't a cheese bomb.Get the recipe here.

6. Ten Ingredient Alkalizing Green Soup - Ten ingredients in a blender and you've got a potent, alkalizing green soup - spinach, herbs, garlic, with silky coconut cream, and some green split peas for staying power. Get the recipe here.

7. Chickpea Cauliflower Korma - A riff on the Chickpea Cauliflower Korma recipe in Jennifer Iserloh's The Healing Slow Cooker - chickpeas, cauliflower, combined with a not-shy simmer sauce. (conventional / Instantpot versions) Get the recipe here.

8. Vibrant, Vegan Double Broccoli Buddha Bowl - Made with seven ingredients on green overdrive. You double up on broccoli through a coconut green curry pesto and florets, then toss with a quinoa base. Get the recipe here.

9. Immunity Soup - A soup built on a monster white pepper broth. White pepper with jolts of ginger, and stabs of garlic - clear and strong topped with tofu, mushrooms, watermelon radish, and lots of green onions. Get the recipe here.

10. Orange Pan-glazed Tempeh - The best tempeh recipe I've highlighted to date - it features a simple ginger and garlic-spiked orange glaze that plays of the nutty earthiness of the pan-fried tempeh beautifully. Get the recipe here.

11. Chia Breakfast Bowl - So easy, so good! Soak the chia seeds in your favorite nut milk, top with smashed berries, fresh passionfruit juice, pepitas, and big flakes of toasted coconut. A bit of bee pollen adds a boost and some pretty. Get the recipe here.

12. Sriracha Rainbow Noodle Salad - A radiant, color-flecked tangle of noodles, cabbage, shredded carrots, pickled sushi ginger, and an abundance of cilantro, basil, and scallions. It has tofu and peanuts, coconut, ginger, avocado, and hemp seeds. Get the recipe here.

13. Mung Yoga Bowl - The kind of bowl that keeps you strong - herb-packed yogurt dolloped over a hearty bowl of mung beans and quinoa, finished with toasted nuts and a simple paprika oil. Get the recipe here.

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14. Vegetable Noodle Soup - This vegetable noodle soup is as simple, direct, and delicious as it gets. Vegetarian and vegans looking for an alternative to chicken noodle soup, try this! Get the recipe here.

15. Anna's California Miso Avocado Salad - So good! A California-inspired Miso, Avocado, & Bean Salad from A Modern Way to Eat, by Anna Jones. Seasonal greens and beans are tossed with an assertive, creamy miso dressing. There are crunchy seeds, and broccoli, and avocado - it all comes together into a brilliant, beautiful, feel-good salad.Get the recipe here.

16. Rainbow Cauliflower Rice - Lightly cooked cauliflower is chopped, then tossed, with turmeric, cumin, cayenne, and a touch of ghee - add sliced avocado, hard-boiled eggs, toasted seeds, rainbow chard stems, lettuces. Get the recipe here.

17. Mushroom Stroganoff - This fantastic vegan mushroom stroganoff is a total crowd-pleaser. You can make it in an Instant Pot, or stovetop. Made with caraway-spiked vodka, and a hearty mushroom base, you get all of what you love about mushroom stroganoff, without the all the butter and cream. Get the recipe here.

18. Winter Green Miso Paste - Keep this on hand for flash-quick, healthy meals. A herbaceous, green miso paste with some garlic bite, rounded out with lots of scallions, cilantro, ginger, and some rosemary. Plus ten simple ways to use it. Get the recipe here.

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WEEKNIGHT EXPRESS features 10 Vegetarian, Plant-centric Recipes for Feel-Good Food — Fast!

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kissnovel46-blog · 5 years

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18 Recipes to Kick off your Post-Holiday Reset

4. California Tom Yum Soup - The perfect antidote to holiday over-indulgence. This version is a distant relative of the vibrant, brothy tom yum soup you likely know and love. Get the recipe here.

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WEEKNIGHT EXPRESS features 10 Vegetarian, Plant-centric Recipes for Feel-Good Food — Fast!

Subscribe to get 32-pages of recipes to view on your tablet, e-book reader or phone.

Follow Me:

Instagram

Youtube

Facebook

Related Recipes

Brilliant Non-Alcoholic Cocktails Everyone Loves

Non-alcoholic cocktails don't have to be a bummer. Play around with aqua frescas, shrubs, kombuchas, and fresh fruit syrups. All can be fun components in mocktail-type drinks like these.

13 Inspiring Instagrammers to Follow for Healthy, Feel-Good Food

Life Changing Green Rice Porridge (Instant Pot, Vegan)

I don’t use the term life changing lightly, but this rice porridge recipe fits the bill. It’s a one pot, effortless, green, nutrient-packed twist on one of my favorite things to eat.

Twelve Whole-Food Plant-Based Kale Recipes You Should Try This Week

Kale every day. Your body will thank you. Kale-centric recipes for the week ahead.

More Recipes

Whole Grain

WFPB

Vegetarian

Vegan

Soups

Side Dishes

Sandwiches

Salads

Pasta

Quick

Main Course

Low Carb

Instant Pot

Holiday

High Protein

Gluten Free

Drinks

Dinner Ideas

Desserts

Chocolate

Breakfast

Baking

Appetizers

Follow Me:

Instagram

Youtube

Facebook

Popular Ingredients

avocado

egg

herb

kale

lemon

lentil

quinoa

pasta

tomato

turmeric

yogurt

zucchini

arugula

asparagus

basil

broccoli

buttermilk

cauliflower

chickpea

chocolate

curry

tempeh

tofu

ALL

Use of this site constitutes acceptance of its User Agreement and Privacy Policy.

Source: https://www.101cookbooks.com/18-recipes-to-kick-off-your-post-holiday-reset/

#read more #see more #check it out #interesting #learn more

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scratchybeardsweetmouth · 7 years

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By Christina Radish Excerpts:

- MY COUSIN RACHEL - Collider: This story is so interesting because it searches for the truth, but never really reveals what that truth is. IAIN GLEN: It’s a very disconcerting sensation that the film creates. You think you have a hold of it, and then something happens and you get some new piece of information or there’s some new action that makes you go, “Oh, god, no! I couldn’t have gotten that right!” Your relationship to Rachel, played so brilliantly by Rachel Weisz, changes throughout. You become entranced and enticed by this exotic creature that comes in and turns things upside down, and you spend the rest of the film thinking, “I’ve got ahold of it. I know what’s going on. Wait, no, I don’t!” That’s the psychological thriller that’s at the heart of Daphne Du Maurier’s writing. Collider: Did you get that from reading the script? Is that what made you want to be a part of this? IG: It is, yeah, very much so. I could see what the writer was doing, and I enjoyed that. I knew that she was the great mistress of irresolution, where nothing would become concrete and you’d be suspended throughout. But in amongst that, you feel like you understand and that you’ve just been given a clue, which leads you to one conclusion. But then, before you know it, you’re being dragged back into another conclusion. Rachel does that very well because you feel for her, at times. You feel her hurt sometimes, and then you feel her vulnerability, but then you think she’s being manipulative. She plays it out very subtly, throughout, so that you’re kept guessing. - GAME OF THRONES - Collider: You’ve not only been a part of Downton Abbey, which is hugely successful and much beloved by its fans, but you’ve also been a part of Game of Thrones, which is even more hugely successful and much beloved by its fans. What’s it like to be a part of shows that are not only so popular, but that are also such quality material? IG: I do feel I really lucked out with the things that I’ve ended up in. When you start at these things, even with Game of Thrones, no one really had a clue how it’s going to go. And then, before you know it, it’s built into this huge, massive, global hit. It’s not because you’re in it, in any shape or form. It’s because there’s some very, very clever people behind it, there’s the extraordinary source novels by George R.R. Martin, there’s the perfect fit with Dan [Weiss] and [David Benioff], who are the brilliant screenwriters, and they gathered a fantastic cast. I just feel very, very lucky for that, and you want to step up to the mark, every time it comes around because it’s such a big cast. It reduces, year by year, with a high death count. With all of us that are involved in it, none of us are required all the time, but when we are required, you just want to be on your game, for this story and for the fans, because at some point in the not too distant future, it will all disappear. Collider: Is it ever sad that, when you do show up, you won’t know who’s actually going to be there with you? IG: You hold your breath, every time a new script comes through, to see what’s unfolding. They [don’t] give you [an] inkling of what’s going to happen either. That being said, I was there in the pilot. I’ve been there from the start. There’s probably between 10 and 14 characters who have been in it from the beginning, and who are featured in every season, so I feel I’ve lucked out. Whatever happens, I feel like I’ve had a pretty good ride. Collider: Because you’ve been there from the beginning and you could see this cultural phenomenon rise up, when did you realize what you’d gotten yourself into? IG: It doesn’t happen overnight, but the first season did pretty well, and then the second season grew. Half-way through the third season is when we all started to look at each other and go, “Jesus Christ, this is going well, isn’t it?!” There was the interest in it, all around where we were filming. And then, there was the secrecy that had to be imposed and the confidentiality clauses. It’s a gradual sensation, but certainly for the last two or three years, every time we gather back together, we all look at each other, and throw our hands in the air and say, “This is pretty amazing to be a part of!” Wherever we’re filming, there’s such extraordinary support for the series. It’s transformed economies. It feels like a big positive force. It’s really, truly been a joy, from the word go, but it becomes extra special when you feel you’re doing work that people are really enjoying and looking forward to. - THE FLOOD - Collider: Was it fun to get to team up with Lena Headey for The Flood and get to work with her, outside of Game of Thrones? IG: It was! That came about quite last minute for both of us. It’s polar opposite, in the sense that it’s a very micro-budget feature, which is about a very important topic, currently for the world in which we’re all living in. It focuses in on refugees and the British Immigration Services and how they’re trying to deal with these strict controls that the government is imposing because world views on what we should try to do with these vast waves of people who are displaced from their own homelands. It’s a very, very, very good script. It’s an extraordinary piece with some lovely performances in it, from what I saw. That was lovely. I’m very fond of Lena, and I’ve only gotten to know her a little bit more recently. It was lovely working with her. You never know, but it feels like an important film and a film that I hope will make some waves. Fingers crossed. - PROJECTS - Collider: At this point in your career, what do you look for in a project? IG: It’s always just variety. I had imagined a world of theater because that’s what I was trained in, and I was lucky to work at the National, work at the Royal Shakespeare Company, and do The Blue Room on Broadway with Nicole Kidman. That’s what I was headed towards, and then film happened very quickly for me. That bread a desire to seek variety. You’re only as good as any piece of writing you have, no matter how hard you work. So, I’m looking for different projects and quality of writing, but that’s not always the case. I don’t want to be too self-aggrandizing. Sometimes you do it because it’s a shit load of money and that means you can be close to your mum in Edinburgh. There are various reasons why you might choose to do a job, but I’ve really enjoyed the variety of work and the variety of places. Film takes you to places you wouldn’t normally go, and it leaves you there for longer periods of time than a holiday. You have time off, as an actor, and that’s lovely because it gives you time to get to know different cultures. Collider: Do you know what you’re going to be doing next? IG: There are a couple of things up in the air. I hope to do a Second World War drama with a producer that I worked with on Resident Evil: The Final Chapter. This is a very different beast of a film. And then, I will be doing Cleverman, an aboriginal series that’s in its second season. Its first season went well, and that shows on SundanceTV. And I play Jack Taylor, an Irish private eye, and a series which is very dear to me. I have Delicious, a comedy for Sky, as well. I have a fairly busy time, up ahead. Sometimes you play the lead in things and sometimes you play support in things, but I always seek variety and good writing.

#iain glen #iain glen interview #interview #collider #ok my bad this was almost the whole article

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paildramonnn · 7 years

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Daiken Week | Royalty/Historical

“Jun would be better at this,” Daisuke says, stuck somewhere between stunned and morose.

Trade agreements are no easy thing. Too many parties to satisfy, and too many interests to protect on all fronts to satisfy anyone completely. Had Daisuke’s education been more complete, his statesmanship polished under another couple decades as crown prince -- but, then, if they were going to bargain for ideals, why bother with the burden of trade agreements at all.

Daisuke interprets Ken’s look of errant daydream as disapproval. He grimaces. “I know,” he says, shoving himself back from the books with a little groan of complaint from zaisu and floor both. The palace has survived three centuries, some far more turbulent than this, but Daisuke is something else entirely. “Jun would be awful, but she’d still be better at this. That’s how bad I am.”

The Motomiya family have been ruling for seven generations. Before that, they were only of enough money and importance to intermarry with the previous ruling family, until such time as the two became so tangled as to be indistinguishable. Then, as the story always goes, those noble cousins and in-laws decided they would do a better job of it themselves, ties were cut, and the throne was squabbled over with the brutality that only family members and hopeful royalty can manage. And it has all lead, blood shared and shed, to this.

Daisuke snarls two fistfuls of hair in his fingers and pulls, like he can yank the right answers out of his skull. Ken’s hand on his arm is probably not all that soothing, but it’s the best he can do, short of pushing Daisuke aside and planting the royal seal on the latest draft himself, to hell with the ramifications.

When Daisuke no longer looks like he’s going to prematurely bald himself or, marginally worse, abdicate the throne in favor of his sister, Ken pulls him to his feet. Daisuke is better in motion; thinks better, acts better when that part of his mind is occupied. That they’ve been holed up for the better part of two weeks now isn’t helping anyone, least of all Daisuke himself. So Ken guides him with little veering touches until they’re out of the warm dark of the king’s study and, the manicured green of the outdoors within grasping distance, Daisuke takes the initiative and hauls Ken out into the sunlight.

Encouraging a break now and again is the least Ken can do. For all that Daisuke keeps him close, relies on him, Ken is doing him few favors. He has his own interests, his own royal family, at least nominally. It’s been months now since any real word from Osamu, a note smuggled out of prison and into Ken’s hand, telling him once more that the conditions were too horrible to bear, that the indignity of it could not be borne, that Ken must do his duty and take back their birthright before the rabble decided that Osamu was too dangerous to suffer to live.

Osamu ordered him to burn the letter immediately and then, a few lines later, to show it to any ally he might muster, as proof of Osamu’s continued existence. Was it madness, his certainty that a royalist counter-offensive be mounted, or was he only seeking to share his misery with Ken? It seemed a fair payment to make, for his own continued freedom while Osamu diminished daily.

It would please him to know that, while he is reduced at home to nothing, he still has some effect in Daisuke's court. Ken will be dogged to the end of his days by Osamu's legacy, by the memory of a crown he never wore. It doesn't matter that he never aspired to wear it, that he was in every way a distant second son to a fiercely hoarded birthright. His home is kingless now, and suspicious minds will watch his every step to see him move toward reclaiming that crown. And there are many suspicious minds at court.

That Daisuke trusts him enough to dismiss those whispers outright is the kindest thing he could ever do for Ken, and he has been unconscionably kind. Ken returns it as best he can: he was never going to be king, was sequestered from court and people who might have planted sedition in his young head, but he was not kept from the education of a royal nursery. While his brother ran his kingdom into bloody ruin, Ken emptied a library of knowledge into his brain. History, policy, warfare, these are the only gifts that he can offer Daisuke, and so he does it open-handed, glad payment for his continued place in Daisuke’s sprawling palace, at his side, in the warmth of his affection.

The diplomats and emissaries are being housed across the miles wide palace complex, staving off the sun on the open engawa between long days of meetings in the close heat of inner rooms. Daisuke and his immediate household retreated to his summer house some weeks before their arrival, shaded by tree cover and opened up to catch breezes off of the pond that lies near enough to hear from the quiet of Daisuke’s private rooms. He is following the sound of it now, leading them away from the house, steps dragging over the stones. Whatever he is thinking, he keeps to himself until the foot of the bridge, where he kicks off his sandals and clamors down carefully lain rock and boulder to shove his feet into the shallow, slightly scummy water.

“Jun really would be awful,” Daisuke says after some cursing and shoving the wet hem of his hakama up around his thighs. He’s sun brown even above the knee, testament to his tendency to do this, to shuck formality for comfort, to indulge the itching need to get away from the rooms full of courtiers.

Why have a pond if he can’t wade into it, after all? Why have a massive complex of landscaped lawns and paved courtyards if he can’t walk it at a whim, trailing impatient lords and generals? Why put up with being king if there aren’t perks?

Daisuke cranes his head up to look at Ken, still standing on the path, and huffs his own softer impatience.

“It’s hot,” he says, by way of excuse and invitation. “It’s hot and someone is going to be really mad at me before the day’s over. Might as well enjoy myself now.”

Ken lines the toes of his shoes up against the rail before climbing down after him. Daisuke scoots over to make room.

“I think,” Ken says, watching his already pale skin get washed out blue-green as he submerges his feet in the water, “it’s very optimistic of you to think only one person will be really mad.”

Daisuke huffs, kicking a weak shower of water up to Ken’s knees. “Fine. Like half of them. But there’s no making everyone happy, is there?”

Ken shakes his head. They have pored over it too long already, trying to assuage the worst offenses. The compromises won’t make half of them furious -- Daisuke is stubborn and Ken is tactful -- but it will be nearer that than either of them likes.

Daisuke leans back on his hands, squinting up through scanty cloud cover to gauge the time by where the sun sits over them. Ken looks down to judge it by their own shadows on the rock. Too early for dinner, too late for lunch in any formal capacity. But if Daisuke requires his monarchy to come with perks, they are only ever as straining as this: somen whenever he wants it, served with egg and pork and radish sliced thin enough to light up pink white as Daisuke passes them over from his tray to Ken’s.

His thoughts are already drifting to thoughts of noodles before they haul pull themselves up onto the path. Their feet are too wet to stay in the smooth lacquer of their sandals, so they scoop them up on their fingers and walk back barefoot. Daisuke keeps his face tilted to the sun. Ken watches where they step.

“If I did abdicate,” Daisuke says, walking near enough to Ken that he can be guided with subtle nudges of shoulder and elbow. “We’d go to Ezochi.”

Too cold for Ken, but there are far more pressing reasons why they will stay right here. Daisuke is the only rightful heir of the most successful dynasty in almost a thousand years. He will rule until he has his own heir to pass the Motomoya legacy onto. But until then it isn’t such a bad thing to think about, before obligation pulls them back under.

“Hishu,” Ken argues, because if they’re going to pretend that Daisuke can escape this palace before he is an old man, they might as well aim for somewhere with plenty of sunlight, somewhere they could retreat up into the hills and watch the ocean wear away at the rocky shore until the end of their days.

Daisuke throws an arm around him, zori knocking into his shoulder where they dangle from Daisuke’s long brown fingers. “That’s what I’m talking about,” he says.

Ken takes more of Daisuke’s weight as he leans into him, jostling for his opinion on this or that as he creates a life of pottery and shark hunting for them. Ken smiles and corrects his geography and accepts his portion of paper thin radish slices when somen is brought to them where they lounge together on the broad engawa, dirty feet kicked up, and if they don’t turn their minds back to the waiting trade agreement until the sky is purpling along the horizon, that’s one more of Daisuke’s perks: to lay in the hot afternoon sun with his dearest friend and advisor, making up a different life for themselves, if not a better one.

#daikenweek2017 #daiken #kensuke #fan fic #motomiya daisuke #ichijouji ken #roughly heian era japan #with no real regard for historical accuracy #because <2k #ichijouji osamu #osamu is not nice

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