#a fire lord's ransom

[fromtheseventhhell]

But what if Robb won't pay their price? She wasn't a famous knight, and kings were supposed to put the realm before their sisters. And her lady mother, what would she say? Would she still want her back, after all the things she'd done?

--Arya IV, A Storm of Swords

Bring her home, Mance. I saved your son from Melisandre, and now I am about to save four thousand of your free folk. You owe me this one little girl.

--Jon XI, A Dance with Dragons

#arya stark #jon snow #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #their relationship is so important to me #things that make me lose my mind #Arya thinking that Robb wouldn't pay her ransom and Catelyn wouldn't want her back #and then we get the Northern lords rallying to save her and Jon doing his best to rescue her and even breaking his vows to do so #Jon and Arya's love for each other is really such an integral part of their characters 😭 #also it's kind of crazy how many times Arya has been used as leverage...even at times she wasn't physically there #The Lannister's lied about having her and she was considered in negotiations during the war #she gets captured by the bwb and sandor to be ransomed to Robb and then her name is used to help hold Winterfell #her being so important while constantly doubting herself and her importance ohhhhhh

[wileycap]

Selected Excerpts From The Fire Nation Royal Palace Servants' (Unofficial) Handbook

Or: Revisions To Normal Protocol After The Ascension Of Agni's Exalted Flame, The Dragon Of The Sun, et cetera, Fire Lord Zuko

1. Agni's Exalted Flame, The Dragon Of The Sun, et cetera, Fire Lord Zuko should not be referred to by his full titles and styles, no matter the context. This appears to annoy him. "Fire Lord Zuko" and "Lord Zuko" are acceptable, as well as "your majesty" and "my Lord".

1.1 "Lord Hotman", however, is unacceptable.

1.2. Even if the Avatar specifically requests you to address Fire Lord Zuko as that.

1.3. In fact, any attempts by the Avatar, the Lady Beifong, the honorable Tribesman Sokka or even Master Katara to get you to address Fire Lord Zuko by anything other than his proper title should be disregarded.

1.4. Referring to Ozai of the Fire Nation (titles rmvd, dishon.) as "The Loser Lord", however, is acceptable.

2. Fire Lord Zuko is aware of the concept of mortality, but does not seem to understand how it relates to His Majesty. Following activities should be discouraged: Free climbing, glider usage, contact with exotic animals larger than a turtleduck (or smaller, if the animal is known to be venomous), amateur theatre productions, cooking, sailing, spelunking, botany, please see full list in the Matron's office.

2.1. It should be noted that His Majesty's belief that mortality does not apply to him does not appear to be completely unfounded. After several "close calls", it has been decided that upon his demise, Fire Lord Zuko should lie in state for at least two weeks.

2.1.1. We do not want another incident.

3. The turtleducks in the Western Pond do not need to be fed by the servants any more.

3.1. However, the turtleducks should be rotated out at regular intervals in order to prevent overfeeding.

4. At any official social functions, at least three servants should be vigilant in case His Majesty tries to tell a joke.

4.1. It should be noted that there is no concern for His Majesty's jokes being offensive, crass or otherwise contrary to good taste. They are simply very bad. His Majesty always ends up embarrassed.

5. Any children left unattended in the Royal Palace for more than 15 degrees can be retrieved from the Fire Lord's office.

6. Should His Majesty go missing, the following places should be searched: roofs and any high places, cellars and secret passages, the fur of the Avatar's sky bison (which is surprisingly deep), and every place that an ordinary five-year-old would think to hide in during a game of "Hide and Explode."

6.1. All of the Imperial Firebenders as well as any soldier who wears a mask during the course of their duties should be questioned.

6.1.1. Important note: Some of the soldiers who are especially close to His Majesty can perform a passable imitation of him. Efforts should be made to prevent an uneducated soldier from, say, conducting a meeting with the Minister of Agriculture.

6.2. After the recent incident, that list is expanded to include the Kyoshi Warriors and any other groups that might wear concealing full face paint.

6.3. If all of these measures prove ineffective, a letter should be sent to The Dragon of the West, Prince Iroh, asking His Highness to return His Majesty.

6.4. If a ransom note is delivered, it should be immediately checked against the handwriting samples from the honorable Tribesman Sokka as well as Avatar Aang, before any other actions are taken.

6.4.1. Replying "Good luck, he's your problem now" to a ransom note is absolutely unacceptable.

6.4.1.1. To further drive home the point, the Royal Archives are required by law to preserve every single piece of royal correspondence. That thing will end up in a museum.

This handbook will be updated should it prove necessary.

#atla #atla zuko #atla aang #avatar aang #avatar the last airbender #atla spoilers #zuko #atla fic #crack fic #fire nation #sokka #fire nation palace servants' handbook

[muffinlance]

Sokka is captured aboard Zuko's ship. At some point during Tea & Interrogation with Iroh and Zuko, he lets slip that he's the son of Chief Hakoda.

“Chief Hakoda?” the Prince of the Kill It With Fire Nation repeats, like his brain is as stupid as his face. Or like he just realized he’s taken a high-value hostage, redeemable for one (1) ransom against an enemy leader.

“Did I say Chief Hakoda?” Sokka laughs, nervously. “I meant, ah—”

“Shut up, peasant,” the prince shouts. And then sort of… chokes on his own words, getting redder and redder.

---

“Perhaps a break, Prince Zuko?” says Uncle, like this is… like this is the tea-time social he’s set the table for. 

Zuko is in the hallway with the door slammed behind him before he can think. Thinking. Thinking is a thing he needs to do, and Uncle’s proverbs only ever leave his thoughts feeling twisted around, and—

And that is not a peasant that sacrificed himself, to give the Avatar a chance to flee. That’s a fellow prince, or whatever the Water Tribe would call him.

---

“So,” Sokka says, spinning the teacup between his cuffed hands contemplatively. “How much poison would you say is in here? And what kind?”

The old man is sputtering indignantly, but Sokka is very seriously considering taking his first sip. If it’s laced with something to loosen his tongue, well, can’t get much worse there. It’s not like he knows where his dad is. Or anything useful. Certainly not more useful than handing the Fire Nation the son of their fleet’s leader. And if it’s something deadly, well...

He doesn’t know what his dad would do or give to get him back. But it wouldn’t be good, for the war or the world or their tribe.

He figured he’d die, when he’d shouted at Katara to go, take him and go. He hadn’t realized how much worse this could get. Was getting. Because the son and heir of Fire Lord Burn Them All was out in the hallway, thinking. 

---

Zuko thinks. About what his own father would do, if he were to receive a ransom letter. The disappointment. The… repercussions. 

---

“You’re what?” Sokka asks. 

“I am releasing you,” His Shoutiness repeats, through clenched and grinding teeth.

“Huh,” Sokka says, and takes another sip from his cup, because oh, this is hallucinogenic tea. Good stuff. “Care to explain that?”

---

No, Zuko wants to shout. But this is the fellow son of a world leader. Zuko hasn’t had many friends, and he’s not looking to add the Water Prince to that atrophied number, but. 

But he could understand.

“You stood and fought when you could not win, for a cause you believed in,” Zuko says, and he doesn’t know why Uncle suddenly looks so pained. “I will not demand trinkets from your father for your return. If he hears of this, it will not be from me. You will be released at the nearest neutral port.”

---

Like an undersized fish, Sokka does not say. 

“That is… very honorable of you,” Sokka says, and doesn’t know why the prince looks like he’s been gutted.

#Sokka: why yes my sister is a waterbending prodigy why do you ask #Zuko: projects onto Sokka HARDER #atla #avatar the last airbender

[brandycranby]

ce characters + their skill at wrapping presents (based on technique, style, and enthusiasm) 🎁✨

crocheting a last minute gift rn hehe

steve: 9.5/10. the military precision comes in clutch when it's time to measure out wrapping paper. if he's not doing the wrapping himself, he's at your elbow with tape strips and scissors when you need them. gift bags? hell no, back in his day, presents were wrapped (ok old man 🙄💕) heh expect steve to come home with half a dozen new tubes of gift wrap because he just can't resist the cuteness (target snoopy paper, beloved 🥺💕)

andy: 7/10. if he did it himself that is 😌 this is a man of experience and few close relatives. the holidays are a quiet uneventful time for him (besides the odd party) and he spends it with you, showering you in gifts and treats for the new year. most of those treats come with complimentary gift wrapping that he'll most definitely take advantage of hehe if not, he's a sparkly gift bag kinda guy

ari: 8/10. he doesn't have much skill at getting those sharp corners on a wrapped box but can he curl a ribbon or what? great color sense, he doesn't look like it but he can tell a french silver from classic silver 😌💕 whatta man whatta man. eight presents though, that's a lot of gift ideas to come up with. defaults to cash and gift cards for some nights, slaps a ribbon on top and adds mesh bag of chocolate coins and calls it a night

johnny: 6/10. look, he's a guy. still, he's a guy with a big sister. sue comes over and they make a night in of it. wrapping paper is everywhere, someone gets hit with a tube, nothing's lit on fire but reed's gift is singed and labeled "to: asshole". it's probably just fruit of the loom boxers. your gift though? he keeps adding stocking stuffers until sue makes him use a wicker basket to hold everything bc "it's chic, johnny, and a paper bag can't hold all of that."

ransom: 5/10 +3 effort points. ONCE HE TRIES?? HE TRIES!!! i mean not for his parents' gifts, he probably amazon shipped those to their house. but he'll pull out the ribbons, the glitter, the tinsel, the special wrapping paper just for you 🥹💕 ransom doesn't really Get It, not until you have a day of present prep with him. cups of hot drinks and a movie on in the back, that sort of warm nostalgia that's so familiar yet distant from what he's known 🥺surprisingly good eye for it

jake: 4/10. oh lord he tries. he tries so damn hard. the living room is a wreck, there's tape everywhere and mismatched wrapping paper. he measures a length of paper too small and worries about cutting another one because you like that paper!! you'd probably cry if he wasted it!! so he takes a discard piece and kinda... band-aids it together... oh baby 😔 also how do you wrap plushies??? (put it in a box, jake, please put it in a box)

curtis: 7/10. solid score because he goes for maximum efficiency and doesn't take a break until every single present is completely hidden in gift wrap, tissue paper, ribbons, bows, and a gift tag. would be a 10 if he was a little more fancy and a little less practical about his present style. but he has the assembly line efficiency and it helps you get everything done in one day so kudos 😊 points off for getting suspicious when you take a long pee break tho

---

since i've started writing this hc list, i've redone my amigurumi THREE TIMES. why do i do this to myself. i also wrapped last minute gifts like a jake today heh

#back on my unhinged shit ty for waiting 😌 #hehe #my writing #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers headcanon #andy barber x you #andy barber x reader #andy barber headcanon #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson headcanon #johnny storm x you #johnny storm x reader #johnny storm headcanon #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale headcanon #jake jensen x you #jake jensen x reader #jake jensen headcanon #curtis everett x you #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett headcanon #ce character headcanons

[five-miles-over]

Tom Hiddleston Characters: How They Would Propose (To You)

(Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters or images. This is just a fun listicle, not designed to offend anyone. As always, please feel free to leave comments and/or constructive criticism below. Thank you, and without any further ado, please enjoy!)

Characters in this list: Will Ransome, King Henry V, Prince Loki Odinson, Loki of Asgard and Jotunheim, Bill Hazeldine, Coriolanus, Jonathan Pine, Robert Laing, Magnus Martinsson, Oakley, Thomas Sharpe, James Conrad, and Jaguar Villain! Tom Hiddleston.

Also, my sincerest apologies - they all turned into mini-fics.

Will Ransome from The Essex Serpent

Reverend Will would propose to you after a Sunday roast dinner, after your family invited him to your home. You were helping to clear the table with the rest of the ladies in your family when Will coughed to announce his presence. At once, everyone cleared the dining room, leaving you alone with the vicar.

"A word please?" He politely called you by name, his hands clasped in front of him. Will sat you down in one of the empty chairs. Gods how he wanted to reach out and tuck one of your stray hairs behind your ear in that very moment, one of the intimate things that he longed to do with you. Intimate things that would be proper in the eyes of God if you were his lawfully wedded wife. He did not sit down, and gently began talking to you. "For some time, I have been charmed by you. Not just your looks, that is not to say that you are not a lovely woman. You are most lovely, but I have also been charmed by your kindness, your humility, and your…virtue."

Will knelt before you, looking up with the most earnest gaze. "If you will bestow upon me the fortune of being your husband, then in return I shall do everything to keep you safe and comfortable.  I shall speak to your father, and we will be wedded in holy matrimony. You and I shall walk together upon this path of life, and I have no doubt that a virtuous woman like you will aid me in carrying out what the Lord decrees of us. My sweetest, please say that you will marry me."

Henry V from The Hollow Crown

With Henry, there was not much of a proposal to begin with. The marriage between you and the King of England was arranged by your father and his men, along with the king and his men. Still, Henry coaxed your father into having at least one private audience with you before the wedding ceremonies, so that he may properly court you as any suitor would. 

'My dearest lady," Henry began as soon as he was alone with you in his study while your father and his men stood vigil outside. "Lower thy veil, and let me behold your face." He reached forward and removed the hood of your cloak, smiling as he beheld your beauty for the first time. "Cheeks rosier than the flowers that bloom in springtime. Your lips and eyes are so enticing, they call to me like sirens. Yours is a face that I shall never tire of seeing.

I confess to you, my lady, that words are not my greatest strength. Were it so easy that I could simply strap on armor or fire an arrow into a target or vault into my saddle for a wife, I should quickly vault for a wife. Alas, tis not so. For a woman's heart is truly one of the most difficult conquests to embark upon. Nevertheless, tis a conquest that I shall duly pursue if you can deign to love me.

If you can love such a man as me, someone whose words are not their strongest suit and someone whose fidelity to you is true, then take me. Take a soldier, and in taking a soldier, you will take a king." Henry knelt before you and offered you his hand. "Sweetest of all maidens, canst thou love me?"

Prince Loki Odinson of Asgard

"I have called you to discuss a matter of great importance, my lady." Loki enunciated the formal title at the end in an attempt to conceal the butterflies in his stomach. He summoned you to the palace gardens at the house before twilight, when the sky would be decorated with streaks of orange and pink. You walked alongside him through the bushes and the groves of flowers. Loki clasped his hands behind her back, walking as if he ruled every inch of earth on which he stepped. 

He continued, "Yes, tis true that Thor, my brother, is the one whom my father has decreed to ascend the throne of Asgard," The younger prince of Asgard looked forward with a solemn expression while you listened with intrigue. "But he is incompetent." Loki turned to you. "He is idiotic and brash. You know as well as I do that he does not encompass the values of a king.

"Was he not the one who wished to invade Jotunheim alone, my prince?" You stopped in your tracks, just as the sun began setting into the horizon behind you.

"Yes, he was. It was all his idea, my lady." Loki did not bother to include his role in instigating Thor, it would not help him in this moment whatsoever. If he delayed this moment any further, he was convinced the words would be stuck in his throat, forever unable to escape. "You are one of the few people with whom I can share these thoughts, my lady." He sighed, his gaze fixated upon you and your beauty. "It is why I have called you here. In the coming future, I will need to protect Asgard from my brother's foolishness. And for that I should like to have a worthy companion by my side."

Loki conjured a shining dagger with a gold hilt out of thin air and promptly fell to one knee before you. The hilt of the dagger was engraved with the words, 'Min hærr, duonningen av mitt hjerte' (My beloved, Queen of my heart) Still on bended knee, Loki looked up at you with an expression of innocence that you never knew existed within him - wide eyes, baited breath, a meek expression. As if all his life were being wagered on a single thing right now. 

"I wish to make you my wife," Loki declared, his lips trembling. "Should you accept, I will bring my proposal to your family, and then we will be wed with due ceremony. And if you decide otherwise, then I shall…" he swallowed, "I shall respect your choice."

Loki of Asgard and Jotunheim from the Marvel Cinematic Universe

"This looks like something stolen from the Graham Norton Show." You raised an eyebrow when Loki handed you an orange and purple card.

"It's a scavenger hunt." Loki said with a twinkle in his eye. "Every clue leads you to the next one."

"I know how a scavenger hunt works, Loki." You rolled your eyes and flipped over the card. "Was this your idea, or is this some ridiculous team-bonding activity put together by Steve Rogers?"

"No. You see,…I have some errands to do, but at the same time, I have an obligatory excursion with the Lady Valkyrie."

You crossed your arms. "So why the scavenger hunt?"

Loki brightly answered. "Well, it makes the errands all the more fun!"

"Alright, but you owe me, Loki." 

"Good girl." The God of Mischief kissed you not the cheek and disappeared into thin air.

You glanced down and saw that the first card, which told you to pick up six cupcakes ordered under Loki's name. The cupcakes were from a specific café….that just so happened to be the place where you and Loki had your first date, which was set up by a far-too-enthusiastic Thor. The moment you got there, a waiter brought you a "complimentary" cupcake of your favorite flavor…along with another orange and purple card. 

The second card took you to the library, on the pretext of picking up a book that was on hold for Loki. There, the librarian handed you the book - Divine Comedy by Dante - and another book that you recognized. It was Pride and Prejudice, one of the first pieces of "Midgardian literature" that you introduced to Loki, a book that you were all too happy to fangirl over. But inside the book was - yes- another orange and purple card. 

The third card sent you to pick up Loki's dry-cleaning. (Really, Loki? Dry cleaning?) At the dry-cleaners, the person at the register handed you a transparent garment bag containing a black tuxedo with a ruffled white shirt. And then you were given a second garment bag with an emerald green gown embellished with diamonds. You couldn't help but stare a few moments at the pretty, expensive-looking gown. Before the person at the register could hand you another card, you made a mental note to ask Loki about the gown and whom it was for. You guessed it was probably for himself for the times he was feeling fabulous. Actually, Loki also liked to wear absolutely nothing when he was feeling his most fabulous…but that didn't matter right now.

The fourth card took you to the park where Loki confessed his love for you for the first time, on the pretext of picking up Loki's forgotten jacket and buying a bouquet of white flowers.

The fifth card took you across the city just to get a particular bottle of liquor that Loki had liked. Okay, now this guy was having a little too much fun with you right now. 

You were relieved when the sixth card, given to you by the liquor store clerk, led you back to the Avengers compound, to the same room where you began this entire scavenger hunt. You huffed a little, setting the box of cupcakes, the books, the two garment bags, Loki's jacket, the flowers, and liquor gently on a table. "Loki? Loki, where are you?"

Loki stood in the middle of the Avengers' common room, wearing polished gold armor over a black and green leather tunic with long, dark trousers. His hair was combed perfectly in place, and his hands clasped behind his back. He stood surrounded by a few candles and fairy lights hanging against the curtains.

"Okay, I need answers…" You sighed, already tired from running around all afternoon. "Loki, I got your things, just tell me what the gown is for and the…the liquor and the…Are you throwing a party or something?"

"I'm getting married."

"What?!" You gulped, reaching for the nearest couch. "I…what? You're getting married, why didn't you tell me? And…" You felt your head start to spin, preparing yourself for the worst. Whatever happened to all the times he said he loved you? Was he just using you to put together some kind of romantic gesture for someone else, just a tool?! Perhaps this is what you get for letting the God of Mischief into your life. Betrayal. "Well, I hope they make you happy, Loki." You relented, putting your head in your hands.

"She does." 

"Good." You murmured, trying your best not to cry in this moment. That was the last thing you wanted him to see. "Is that gown for her too?"

"Hm-hm. Of course, it'll probably end up on the floor after the engagement party, hehe."

"Loki, I am in no mood for your jokes right now." After a few moments, you looked up. 

"Come on,…have a sense of humor."

"NO!" You yelled, getting up from the couch. "No, I will not have a sense of humor right now! You used me! You used me, and lied to me. You told me to do all of these errands, like picking up dry cleaning, and buying liquor, without telling me that you were going to propose to someone else! You could have at least told me, just so I'd have some kind of closure. But no, you couldn't even think to do that. You told me it was a scavenger hunt, like I wasn't worth knowing the truth.

I...I did this because I care about you, Loki! I care about you like some kind of idiot who actually thought that you might like me the same way that I liked you. That right there, making me like you might just be the worst thing you have ever done me." You took a moment to breathe, and ran your hands through your hair. 

"Ugh…And you made me even pick up her engagement dress! What kind of person makes someone do that?!" You couldn't even think about the words you were spitting out, too busy with the hot tears clouding your vision. 

"The kind of person who knows how good it'll look when you wear it."

"What?!" You were taken aback all of a sudden. 

Loki approached you with a hint of nervousness. "Darling, you are one of the best things that has ever happened to me. I know I'm not easy to be with, that I drive you mad sometimes, and I make you put up with a lot. I...I should've practiced this more." He laughed under his breath. "Why didn't I?" Blinking, he pushed his hair back before continuing. 

"What I'm trying to say is,...my life has never been the same since I met you. You're the most steadfast ally, a wonderful friend, and best of all, you are the most passionate and loyal person I have ever known. I could never imagine my life without you, and I never want to. That's how much I love you."

The God of Mischief fell to one knee, and held up a small emerald ring with a gold band.

"Will you marry me?"

Bil Hazeldine from Suburban Shootout

"Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise, sweetheart." Bill pulled his father's car into a driveway, and took your hand. "Just close your eyes, alright?"

"Alright…" After a few steps, you could hear Bill opening a door and the sound of a shopkeeper's bell, along with the muted conversations of various patrons. The scents of vanilla and grease reached you almost immediately. 

Bill held you close and whispered that you could open your eyes now.

When you opened your eyes, you laughed a little. "We haven't been here in a while…"

"You remember it?"

"How could I ever forget?" You kissed him on the cheek, and let him find a table for you. 

Bill's proposal began with him taking you to the milkshake diner where the two of you had your first date. After a bit of small talk over a banana split, Bill not-so-discretely excused himself. While you sat at the table with your spoon and checked your phone, Bill made his way to the jukebox with his hands in his jeans' pockets, feeling the small box inside. He'd almost thought about wearing a suit for this occasion, but his mum said it would make you suspicious. And his father suggested hiding the ring inside your ice cream to be more romantic , but Bill was terrified by the idea of you accidentally choking. Yes, keeping the ring with him was a better idea.

Bill took a deep breath and slipped a coin into the jukebox, flipping through the various tracks to find one of the songs you enjoyed. When he found one, he pressed play and called your name. Bill extended his hand out, offering to dance with you. He twirled you, and the two of you swayed in time with the music, smiling all the while. At the end of the song, Bill proudly kissed you on the lips.

He gently said your name, and pushed a bit of hair out of your face. "You're the one I want to dance with to every song…There's just no one like you, no one I could ever dream of that's just as wonderful as you are." Bill reached in his pocket for the small box, and fell to one knee, not caring who might be watching you in the diner. Inside the small box was a 0.3-carat diamond ring with a silver band. "Would you make me the happiest man in the whole world, and marry me?"

Caius Martius Coriolanus from Coriolanus

Coriolanus invited your family to dine with him and his mother one night on the pretext of an important matter concerning two important families of Roman nobility. It was not the first time he'd done such a thing, inviting your family to break bread with him and his mother. He had even visited your father's home before, sharing wine with your father and your brothers from time to time. It was through those meetings that Coriolanus fell more in love with your smile, the way you bit your lip when you were thinking,…and even the way your laugh infected him like a plague. And if there was anything more deadly to him than your simple, unadulterated laughter, then it was your beauty which had him fighting the urge to smile whenever you walked into a room or whenever he heard your voice.

But despite his best efforts, it became quickly aware to everyone in your family how besotted the general was with you. The way his head unintentionally bowed whenever he was in your presence, as if you were the sun and he would go blind if he looked you straight in the eye, never went unnoticed. The fact that you were the only person who could make him laugh, and that the simple mention of your name was enough to make the powerful General and conqueror of Corioles lower his usual barking voice made your family - and anyone else in the general's presence - giggle under their breath.

So when everyone had finished the prima mensa, Coriolanus stood up and raised his cup. "I have called you here tonight, to make a proposition," he declares with the same voice that he would use to speak to the Senate. "An alliance between our families…" The general turned his gaze to you for a moment, and exhaled to calm his racing heart, which only quickened when you looked back up at him. "If you will bestow upon me this honor, I wish to make your daughter…my wife. She is virtuous, and kind,…endowed with a noble background."

He waved for two of the servants of his household to present your mother and father with gifts of imported silk and valuable coins. And for you, the general had his servant gift place a set of golden jewelry - a girdle, five bracelets, and a layered necklace with rubies - in your lap. Underneath the girdle was a small piece of parchment with the words,

"I long to see you wearing these on our wedding night, my lady. Only these."

You turned red, and looked up and the general, politely expressing your thanks. 

"Should you accept," Coriolanus gave you a nod and turned to your family. "We shall make our alliance official in the presence of the gods. Your daughter shall be my wife, and I her husband. I will defend her from harm and protect her, as I have defended Rome time and time again. Your daughter will be cared for, and all I ask for in return, is your fidelity. Pledge to me your allegiance, for I shall need your influence when the time comes for the elections in the Senate.

Instead of a dowry give me your loyalty, and I swear that your priceless gem of a daughter will want for nothing for as long as I live. Do I have your word?"

Oakley from Unrelated

"Let's get married." Oakley off-handedly said while the two of you stood outside, leaning against the wall while he smoked a cigarette. 

You raised an eyebrow. "Are you kidding?"

"No." He took another drag of his cigarette and turned to you with his ocean blue eyes and tousled, dirty blond curls. "We should get married."

"Who are you and what have you done with Oakley?" 

"What, you don't think I'm good enough to marry you?" He protested. 

Shaking your head, you laughed. "No, it's not that…"

"Well, then what is it?" Oakley crossed his arms and furrowed his brow at the sight of you laughing. "We have fun together, we make each other laugh,…we look good together, especially when naked-"

That was enough for you to playfully hit him on the shoulder, causing him to chuckle. He continued, "We like each other. We have this great relationship."

"But are you sure this is what you want?" You asked. "Don't you want to explore, try things? Do stuff before you're tied down?"

"Why would I do that? When there's this…beautiful, funny, smart, and sexy girl right there with me, I'm not even looking at anyone else." Oakley simply countered. "I like what we have, and i don't want to let it go. We can travel, explore the world, and I'll do it all with you." There was no sign of hesitation in his voice, but maybe it was just the cigarette fueling his courage. He came closer to you, and looked dead serious. "I don't want what we have to be just something we try for as long as we can, something we leave up to chance. I want forever with you."

"Forever?"

"Forever." Oakley knelt before you, his eyes going from a vivid cyan to a soft, almost pale bag blue. "I don't have a ring but…" He removed his necklace and presented it to you like an offering at an altar, calling your name. "Marry me."

Jonathan Pine from The Night Manager

Jonathan had been working with MI-6 for almost two years, embarking on various mission for them after he gained acclamation for helping to carry out Operation Limpet. He, along with officer Angela Burr, took down the infamous arms dealer Richard Roper once and for all.

Since then, Jonathan found himself a new home in London and got back in touch with you, the one who stole his heart back when he was still working as a night manager. He didn't know how much he truly missed you until you answered his letter, telling him about the twists and turns your life had taken since your last encounter with Pine. After about three weeks of exchanging handwritten letters - simply because they reminded you both of a simpler time and felt more personal - with Jonathan using a pseudonym to protect you, he invited you to visit London for a holiday. 

And those five days you spent in London were some of the best five days of Jonathan's life. He delighted in your innocence, the way you happily took his arm and strolled through the city, randomly surprising him with kisses. Arm in arm, without a care in the world except for each other, enjoying all that life would have to offer…This is how it should be, Jonathan thought to himself as he gazed at the sparkle in your eyes, the color in your cheeks. He listened as you talked about everything you liked about London, everything that disgusted you, and everything you hoped for in the future, simply taking in the opportunity to just be with you. 

After a few moments, you asked him about what he wanted in the future, and all Jonathan had to say was one word.

"You."

You looked up from your cup of tea. "Me?"

He took a breath. "Yes." Jonathan affectionately said your name, and reached for your hand. "I never grew up in a house with both parents, doting on me." He told you about how his life up until joining MI-6 was an abominable quest for order. How his time in the military and working in the hotel business was part of an aim to find a direction in his life, and how little happiness it truly brought him. How alone he felt whenever his life wasn't being threatened. 

Jonathan sighed, not used to telling so much about himself in a single conversation, laying his heart out on the table to be cut into and devoured. "I promised myself that I would find the one person that I could care deeply for, and love them. I promised myself that I would make friends, find a home…a place to belong. Maybe someday become a parent."

You looked upon him lovingly. "That's beautiful, Jonathan."

He raised your hand to his lips and kissed it. "I want all of those things, and I want them with you." Jonathan declared, quiet enough for the two of you to hear. "These past days with you have been…incredible. When I look at you, I see everything that I have wanted, the life that I want to be living five years from now, ten years from now." 

He continued, "You make me believe in a future that's worth building. The way you smile…, the way you look upon me and everyone with stars in your eyes…I want to be the one who keeps that smile on your face, the one who makes you laugh. I want to be the one who kisses you good night, and the first one you see in the morning. I want to be the one you come home to every evening, the shoulder you lean on." 

Jonathan stroked the back of your hand with his calloused thumb. "I know it's soon, but if there is anything that I've learned, it's that when you see something worth keeping in your life, you do everything you can not to let her go. You just do it." He looked into your eyes. "Marry me?"

James Conrad from Kong: Skull Island

It was the third time this week James had a nightmare. After thrashing and groaning, fighting an invisible beast, James found it in himself to call you - his neighbor whom he'd been dating for two years - on the telephone. His forehead and his chest were dripping with sweat, his expression one of agony, when you approached his bed. It was obvious that he had been in a lot of pain. 

James wasn't the type of person who wanted to expound upon the terrors he was feeling; he was a man of action who preferred expressing his emotions nonverbally. So, you respected that and simply talked about mundane things, things about civilian life that would temporarily distract James. As you both fell asleep, you made a mental note to remind James setting another appointment with his therapist, the one MONARCH had prescribed for him.

You woke up to an empty bed. It wasn't unusual for James to go out on an early morning walk to be alone with his thoughts. It was one of the things he'd learned from his therapist when he asked about how to be a better sweetheart to you while recovering from his trauma. You washed your face and brushed your teeth with a heavy heart, hoping it wouldn't be too long before you saw James again. 

While you styled your hair, you heard the door unlock. James walked inside, carrying a bag of breakfast pastries. "Good morning." He greeted you in a low, casual voice. 

"Good morning…" You would've asked if he slept well, but given the events of last night, that question made no sense. "I'm sorry I stayed over."

"No need to apologize." James set the pastries down and placed a kettle on the stove. While the water rose to a boil, James unwrapped the two chocolate croissants he bought, and glanced up to find you standing in the kitchen. You walked up to him slowly, and without missing a beat, James gently kissed you with an arm gently holding your waist. He murmured your name again, his breath warm against your lips. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." 

James gave you a chaste kiss on your forehead before going into his bedroom. "I brought breakfast for us both. Should I make us some eggs?"

"No need…" You watched James open one of his drawers. "Before I forget, do you want to make an appointment with your therapist?"

"Uh, I will." James returned to the kitchen with a small box in his right hand. "Thanks for reminding me."

"What is that?"

James took a deep breath. "Just something to thank you for last night,…and for everything you've done."

"James, you really didn't have to-"

"No. I've been wanting to do this for a year, it's time." 

Your breath caught in your throat as James opened the box to reveal a small, simple sapphire ring. He began, "I should've done this sooner, and I'm a fool for not doing so." James fell to one knee, and you gasped. "Darling,…Over the years I've known you, you have helped me…become a man again. You've remained by my side as I've made attempts to return to civilian life. You've comforted me during my worst hours, and you have given me something worth living for."

"James…"

"You're someone worth fighting for." He laughs a little. "I love you. And if you let me, I will spend the rest of my life making you feel loved and caring for you in the ways that you have cared for me.

Darling, will you marry me?"

Magnus Martinsson from Wallander

"Marry me." Magnus groaned with relief when you brought him a plate of eggs, some coffee, and an aspirin. He was laying on your couch, hungover after a night out with you and some of his mates from the police station.

You simply rolled your eyes and laughed a little. "Eat your eggs, you'll feel better with some food inside you."

Magnus kept his eyes on you while you both drank coffee, his headache slowly diminishing. "That a yes?"

"No, Magnus." You flatly said. "You had a lot to drink last night. Just…eat your eggs and finish your coffee. I'm not saying yes to a guy that passed out on my couch after throwing up into the bushes outside."

He grimaced. "I did that?…Sorry." Magnus looked down and shoveled a forkful of eggs into his mouth. "Whatever, it was just a question, not like I meant it or anything." He pretended to brush off the matter. "You doing anything else today?"

"Tidying the house. You?"

Magnus closed his eyes for a moment to taste the savory flavor of the eggs. "i have a few things to do at the station for Kurt. Won't take long."

You and Magnus finished breakfast in silence before Magnus thanked you for letting him crash on your couch. "I'll see you soon." He said, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

You almost found it funny, the way he groaned for you to marry him, and chuckled to yourself. For all of his sarcastic quips and his cold exterior, there were times Magnus was an unintentional sweetheart. You'd known him for about seven months, how endearing he was whenever he tried to show off at darts or pool. You thought about the time he brought you soup every night when you had a flu that lasted for a week. And during that one time he showed up late to one of your date nights because of a case, he spent the rest of the evening simply snuggling with you until you fell asleep in each others' arms. It was one of the first times you'd ever seen him smiling so blissfully like a newborn baby.

About a few hours later, you could hear it rain outside, a bolt of thunder rumbling across the sky. While caught up in some trashy television, you heard a knock on the door. 

There was Magnus, standing outside drenched from head to toe. 

"Magnus, what are you-"

"I meant it." He confessed while the raindrops rolled down the sides of his face. "Marry me." He repeated when you asked him what he was talking about. Magnus reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small gold ring with three tiny diamonds. "You're the most perfect person in this entire world. And it's not just because you make the best eggs." He said, making you laugh. "You're stunning, even when you've just woken up. You put up with a lot, and…I can't really say what it is you do to me, but I can't help it. I…I…"

"I love you too, you crazy detective!" You finished.

"So, is that a yes?" Magnus asked again, with a big grin on his face as he presented the ring to you. 

Robert Laing from High-Rise

"We need to talk." Robert broke the silence while the two of you shared a candlelit dinner in your flat. 

All traces of a smile disappeared from your face instantly. Usually nothing good ever followed those four words. 

You put your fork down. "What did you want to talk about?"

Robert looked you in the eye. "I moved to this high-rise to be alone, to be away from people. This…a relationship was the last thing that I wanted." He blinked, looking down at his plate for a moment. Then, he wiped his mouth with a napkin. 

You tensed in your seat, preparing for the worst. God, Robert. If he was trying to break up with you, then he just picked the worst time possible. 

The doctor stood up. "I thought I wasn't built for love…So I tried to be alone as much as I could, avoiding every chance to be attached to someone." He swallowed. "And then you came."

You let out a sigh, assuming that Robert was going to say something awful about your relationship. 

"It was like I couldn't even recognize myself anymore. What you did to me…" Robert called your name and walked over to you. "I cannot go a day without hearing your quippy words…, without seeing you when I come home,…without kissing you. It's more than anything I have felt in years." He confessed, his fingers tracing the back of your chair. "If you were to disappear from my life, it would feel like losing everything I've ever known. And…truthfully, the idea of that terrifies me. Maybe I could live without you,…but I don't know if I would be able to call it living.

"So what are you trying to say?" You murmured.

Robert sighed. "Forgive me, I'm not used to having these conversations."

"It's okay."

"You did it again." The doctor remarked. "You're making me fall in love with you, sweetheart." Robert went to the coat closet where he kept his blazer, and pulled a small box from one of the pockets. He returned to your side. "What I'm trying to say is,…that I'm in love with you. I'm in love not only with you, but with the way that you make me…feel things. The way that you remind me that there's a future ahead of us both. A future that can be much more than just dreary parties and squabbles between the upper floors and lower floors. You make me very happy, darling, and I think that you should know that." 

Robert took a deep breath and fell to one knee, next to your chair with the box opened to reveal a silver ring with a diamond heart. "Would you marry me, and make me an even happier man?"

Thomas Sharpe from Crimson Peak

You were sitting on the swing set in the garden of your family estate, enjoying the mid-morning sun and the gentle breeze. Idly moving your legs back and forth, you played with a small cluster of Baby's Breath in your lap. It was nice to be away from the bustling drama and the incessant gossip, and instead be surrounded by fresh air. 

"My lady." You were awoken from your reverie by a smooth, vaguely familiar baritone that belonged to none other than Thomas Sharpe. He was a guest who'd been staying at an inn near your family's home, having joined your family for supper at least ten times in the past two weeks. In your eyes, he seemed mysterious and yet full of stories to tell, always having an anecdote about a place he'd visited or a trick to show you and your siblings. There was something about him that made you drawn to him as soon as he walked into a room, you were unable to articulate what it was. 

"Good morning. What brings you here, Baronet?" 

The baronet gave you a smile, and leaned against a tree, watching you enjoy yourself on the swings. "I was speaking to your father and his, erm, associates about a business venture."

"About clay, right? Mining it?"

Thomas nodded. "Precisely, my lady. And you, have you been enjoying your morning?"

You blushed as he took a step closer. "Yes, Baronet."

"No need for such formal titles now, my lady. We're not at a ball, nor are we at supper. ''Thomas' will do." He gently said. "May I share your company for a while, my lady, if it would not be much of a bother for you?"

You allowed him, giving the Baby's Breath to him as a token of affection. No, not a token of affection. Simply a nice gesture that would hopefully give you a place in Thomas's good books. Maybe he might even ask you for a dance at the next ball.

"Will you be attending the ball this Saturday, Bar- I mean, Thomas?"

He nodded, taking a moment to smell the flowers. "You?"

"I will." 

"And have you chosen a gown, my lady?" Thomas decided to humor you a little. He smiled while you sheepishly described the dress that you had your eye on for that special occasion. "Well, I'm sure you will look divine wearing it, my lady. Do you often spend time here in the gardens, all by yourself."

"Yes. I enjoy the flowers, and the breeze. It's beautiful when the weather is pleasant."

"I can imagine, my lady. It's been a long time since I have relaxed in a garden." Thomas places the Baby's breath in his front pocket. "My lady, there is something I wish to know of you."

You stopped swinging, and asked him what it was.

"I would like to know if you would be interested in marrying me." Thomas knelt by your side, looking up at you with eyes that bore the same hue as a cloudless sky. "For some time, my lady, I have admired your numerous charms from afar. And with each passing day, my affections for you have grown stronger. I find myself thinking about you at the most unpropitious times of day." He sighs, "While I may not be a man of great fame or great brawn or of great wealth, I am a man of dignity." Thomas promised you, despite knowing it was a blatant lie. "I will make sure that you lack nothing as my wife. And to treat you with nothing but the compassion and the love that you deserve. All I ask in return, is that you try to find it in your heart to give me even an iota of your affections.

Would you be willing to do that, my lady?"

Jaguar Villain!Tom Hiddleston

Ever since you moved into the flat Mr. Hiddleston bought for you, the most powerful man in London always had a designated town car sent to pick you up from work or school every day. His favorite chauffeur would show up at the same time every weekday, give you a friendly greeting, and drop you off at your flat. And once you got there, you'd be greeted by a doorman that Mr. Hiddleston personally hired to make sure that you reached safely.

Today, however, the chauffeur did not drop you off at your flat. At least, not right away. "Monsieur Hiddleston had something different in mind for today," he said with a small grin, like he knew something was going on. The chauffeur dropped you off at the nail salon for a manicure paid for by your powerful beau. 

After being pampered by the nail technician for about forty-five minutes, you returned to the town car to find a bag in the backseat with the word 'Harrods' on it. "You went shopping?" You asked the chauffeur while he drove you to your flat.

"Non, it was all Monsieur Hiddleston. He was keeping this dress on hold, and asked me to pick it up for you. He would like you to wear it tonight."

You thanked the chauffeur with a smile. Inside the bag was a beautiful Carolina Herrera gown in your favorite color. And right on cue, your phone buzzed with a text from your beau, asking if you liked his gift. As always, you texted back saying that it was perfect. 

The chauffeur dropped you off at your flat, and asked you to be ready by seven-thirty…but not before taking a good look at your manicured nails and saying an early 'congratulations'.

"Gordon owes me a favor," Mr. Hiddleston bragged a little when he arrived in front of your building at seven-thirty sharp. He opened the door of his favorite black Jaguar, and helped you inside the front passenger seat. "You look stunning tonight, darling."

"You look amazing too," you couldn't help but say. It was the truth after all. "When you said Gordon, did you mean…?"

"We're going to the River Restaurant in the Savoy Hotel, darling." He kept one hand on the steering wheel, placing the other one on your knee. "Hungry?"

"Nervous," you sheepishly said.

"I'm here, nothing can harm you." He turned his eyes to the road. "Your fears are far behind you."

The moment you arrived, the host of the restaurant immediately led you both to one of the outdoor terraces, where there was a table for two set up. Mr. Hiddleston pulled the chair for you before sitting down, and a waiter poured both of you some Dom Pérignon. 

"This is beautiful." You gushed, watching the most powerful man in London raise an invisible toast. You clinked your glass against his. 

 He replied with a dramatic flair.  "Nothing compared to you."

"So…what did you to get this favor?" You leaned in and asked him while the waiter placed a charcuterie board for the two of you to share. "This is a seafood place, charcuterie isn't on the menu."

A twinkle in his cerulean eyes, Mr, Hiddleston fed you a piece of cheese. "That's confidential, darling. Just enjoy the night."

"I will."

The two of you made small talk about your day, and about Mr. Hiddleston's upcoming business trip to Paris. You would be going with him of course, Mr. Hiddleston would make sure of that. The waiter refilled your champagne, and your beau discretely gave him a twenty-pound note, whispering that it was time for the main course.

The waiter took about fifteen minutes to bring your elegantly-arranged entrees out onto the terrace. And as he came out, you could hear an orchestra from inside the hotel begin to play "All I Ask of You" from Phantom of the Opera.

"Enjoying yourself?" Mr. Hiddleston leaned forward with a smirk as he noticed you listening to the music.

You admitted this was one of the songs you enjoyed, and said it reminded you of the first time you'd ever heard of the musical. How much you wanted to be Christine in that moment, serenaded with the promise of a life with no more darkness.

"Well there's one more thing I have for you tonight, darling." With a smirk, Mr. Hiddleston reached into the pocket of his blazer, retrieving a small box labeled 'Harry Winston'. He slowly got out of his chair and made his way towards you. 

You gasped, covering your mouth almost immediately. You swore you could feel your heart stop just for a moment when his eyes met yours. It all made sense now: the manicure, the accidental 'congratulations', the gown,…

 "Oh my god…"

Mr. Hiddleston fell to one knee and opened the box, which contained a 1-carat diamond ring with a platinum band. "Love me. It's all I ask of you."

Tag list: @thatdummy-girl @icytrickster17  @mischievoushiddleston,@lokischambermaid , @lady-rose-moon , @lokisgoodgirl  , @lokisninerealms  @jennyggggrrr  ,, @tom-hiddleston-imagines  , @lokiismineforever  @smolvenger  @winterfrostlovetriangle  , @the-haven-of-fiction  , @turniptitaness   @cakesandtom  ,@sallymagnoliaposts  @leahs-reading-nook  @holdmytesseract  @muddyorbsblr @evelyn-kingsley @anukulee @acidcasualties @lotsoflokilove23 @caffiend-queen

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki odinson #tom hiddleston characters #mcu loki #loki god of mischief #magnus x reader #magnus martinsson x reader #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston imagines #jaguar tom hiddleston #jaguar villains #jaguar tom hiddleston x reader #bill hazeldine imagine #bill hazeldine #jonathan pine fanfiction #jonathan pine #king henry v x reader #king henry v imagine #the hollow crown #will ransome #the essex serpent #will ransome x reader #robert laing x reader #robert laing #high rise #caius marcius coriolanus #coriolanus x reader #captain james conrad

[shanastoryteller]

Happy Spookeween!!! LOL Zuko that can't be burnt please!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

These past few years, the fight against the Fire Nation is more desperate than it ever has been before.

The Crown Prince loves his people.

Hakoda has heard a lot of stories about the kid. That he's dangerous and ruthless and determined to make the Fire Nation a land without borders, to pull the whole world under his control.

He has to be, doesn't he? Fire Lord Azulon disinherited the Dragon of the West and killed his second son to make Zuko the Crown Prince. He must be Azulon's match in cruelty and greed to warrant all that.

When they come across him wandering on his own, Hakoda thinks it's a boon. Even a powerful firebender can be taken unaware. He thinks he can ransom Zuko for the Water Tribe hostages.

He's a smart man. But even he has moments of stupidity.

His children try to argue against this plan, saying that it's not worth it, but he chalks it up to fear. It appears they've crossed paths with the deadly crown prince before, and it's clearly left its mark on them.

Except it's not fear. It's concern.

When Zuko releases fire from his hands, hot enough to melt shackles around his wrist, Sokka doesn't run away from him. Instead, he runs to him.

Later, when the crown prince's ship is sailing away with Zuko on it and him and his crew and his children and even the avatar still alive, he asks them, "Why aren't you afraid of him?"

"We are," Aang says, but Katara and Sokka trade a look. "Aren't we?"

"Zuko isn't so bad," Sokka says reluctantly. "You just have to pay attention to what he does and not what he says."

He hasn't alerted the Fire Nation about the existence of the Avatar despite knowing for months.

He hasn't killed them or even hurt them.

Hakoda looks deeper and sees a pattern. Against those attempting to hurt Fire Nation citizens, he's as ruthless as they've always feared.

Against everyone else, he doesn't show mercy, exactly, but he turns a blind eye towards it. What he doesn't see, he doesn't have to address. It's how his kids are still unknown to the Fire Nation despite their recent activities.

Aang and Katara go North to train and Sokka goes with them becasue he refuses to leave them.

Time passes, months shifting to years as Aang and his kids travel the world to find different bending masters to learn from, although there's one element Aang has yet to fully master.

What he knows of fire, Crown Prince Zuko has taught him in the shadows with a blue mask on his face.

Hakoda is more desperate than ever.

They don't need to win the war. Attacking Fire Nation soldiers unprovoked always has the risk of angering Zuko, and it's not the important thing anymore.

They just have to kill Azulon.

Once Zuko is the Fire Lord, this war will end.

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #anon #atla

[telleroftime]

Little Melody ||| Bowser x Reader

King Bowser struggles with a certain part of a composition when playing on his piano. You, his captive, chime in with a chord suggestion that ends up working.

———————————————

Pairing: Bowser x Gender Neutral ! Reader

Relationship: Platonic

Tone: Gen

Word Count: 2.8k

Bowser Masterlist

———————————————

Being held captive for ransom was certainly an experience, especially when the person kidnapping you was most definitely not penurious.

From the towering doors edged with polished silver - the surface of which was decorated with engravings depicting bones and beasts and fire - to the cascading walls of glowing lava that had to be suspended using tedious magic, the castle you were taken into was truly quite fascinating. The architecture was different from your home, making you feel like a helpless little mouse trapped in a giant's den instead of a spark of musical might that kept you alive. Everything was plus sized. The ceilings reached too high. The corridors were too long. But there was less fear behind the anxiety blooming in your chest and more so a sense of wonder. This place was different, inspiring almost.

And, if the outward appearance wasn't enough to settle that, the stark disparity between court ethics made the slight culture shock that more obvious. There were no ladies in elegant garb wandering in search of rich lords and famous musicians. The castle staff was kept to a minimum of a few Shy Guys dusting random corners instead of bustling maids and palace servants. There were no princes or princesses causing immediate havok amongst the stationed guards. The court was quiet. Too quiet.

It was a silence that did not falter even as you were led towards the throne room during your first few days there. You could remember the sound of your dark chains as they clanged against one another, their heavy alloy creating minimal discomfort, surprisingly not irritating the skin of your wrists at all. With the two magikoopas keeping you walking - one in front and one behind - you had to steel yourself before you could actually come face to face with your kidnapper.

Your steps echoed loudly down the halls. One step after the other, like walking to the set rushed pace of a metronome, you forced yourself to remain confident. You were more than aware of the hanging cages decorating the more fortress-like areas; the skeletons brushed to the side were not that far out of view.

Scratches disrupted the perfect surface of the rock below your feet, telling tales of struggles that were overshadowed by the huge statues of a giant beast. You remembered how the stone was cut, chiseled with finesse to mimic the shapes of a raging monster. The pointy teeth. The sharp claws. The horns of a bull curling up like a laurel wreath. Even then, when looking at the hovering black flags that wore the emblem of this foreign kingdom, you had pieced together that the statues must have depicted the king himself.

You were right.

At first, when standing in front of his throne and having to crane your neck up to witness the true potency of his glower, you had hoped you could reason with His Majesty, King Bowser. You wanted to plead your case. You wanted to reason that this was all a misunderstanding. It was all a wreck of a symphony that could yet be fixed. However, with an arrogant upturn of his snout and the flick of his decorated wrist, you were quick to realise it was all just wishful thinking.

For the first few days trapped in this unknown world, you were kept locked within the dungeons. You were given a simple cot, the pillows flat and uncomfortable and not at all what you were used to back at home. The food was given to you as tasteless, uninspiring mush. The only light you were allowed was the dull glow of fire that filtered through the iron bars. You were held like a convict within the small cell.

All until you weren’t. The cold stone slabs turned to polished wood. The rationed prison food turned to exquisite three course meals. Instead of the now-dirty clothes you wore when you were taken in, you had been dressed in white fabric, edges of the garments trimmed and lined with colours of flames and gemstones mimicking the glimmer of embers. You don't know what brought about the change. Maybe the people of your home agreed to the king's conditions. Maybe the giant koopa had a change of heart. Whatever it was was definitely not to your benefit when you were placed in a large, golden cage beside the king himself.

Despite your voiced complaints and near constant nagging, the king insisted on having you dragged after him. You dined with him. You sat idly next to him as he slouched back on his throne. You were trapped in every sense of the word, stuck in a cage like a little, doomed songbird. A musician with no thrill and a creator with no hope. The only thing you could do was sit on top of a small bar attached to the base of the platform - a little, worthless bench that allowed you to rock your legs back and forth - with your body leaning forwards on your elbows. Trapped with nothing to do but lazily hum your comfort songs as you daydreamed of home.

However, be that a stroke of luck or of misfortune, your boredom was temporarily sated when you were brought into a large, circular space surrounded by a glow of thick, molten lava. It was a new place, and now the heat of the glowing walls caused your palms to sweat and your skin to sparkle with moisture. It was arid, but not entirely unbreathable.

The king placed your cage down on a small stool next to a black coloured grand piano, the plaque reading 'Ludwig Von Koopa' informing you of the brand, and sat himself positively on the cushioned chair. Confidently, his claw pressed the first key.

You're guilty to admit that you would have never expected the large koopa, let alone your beast of an impolite kidnapper, to be able to play on such a fine instrument. It was tuned perfectly, the sounds echoing within the body with beautiful resonance. The king's claws glided against the keys with a practiced precision you couldn’t help but observe. With each note he played, his face of concentration morphed to fit the sound. It pulled and it twisted as if you were not there, passion for the craft evident even in the way he closed his eyes. He leaned his body in when the tune demanded a longer sound, and swayed backwards for the faster notes.

You gawked at him, your silhouette still as you simply watched him play. At first, you were certain that you recognised the chord progression. You thought you knew the melody, the kingdom you were from known mainly for its involvement in the evolution of music. However, you refused to be vain enough to say for certain. In some places it sounded familiar, though that was common within many compositions. In other parts the melody sounded original. It was unlike anything you have ever heard before, and it was something that would have never reached the shores of your homeland. It sounded like something born to this room, and the flex and twitch of the king's arms showed the truth to that.

You watched as his brows furrowed, then relaxed. Then they furrowed again, and His Majesty's playing took a pause.

One try after the next, King Bowser played and replayed a certain part of the melody. The composition was unfinished from the looks of it, and you readjusted your spot on the metal bar. You heard him huff as he glanced at your movement, but other than that he ignored it in favour of the piano.

Playing for a minute, he stumbled, then he tried again. Each time he started from the same bar, giving himself room to think. He tried, and failed. He tried, and failed again. After about the fifth time, your eyes flitted away from his general figure and turned instead to the entrance of the room. You stared blankly at the door, eyes unfocused slightly as you listened to him play.

F major seven, G major, F minor. You knew those chords, recognising them as they rang in the background of the sound. Then, the king faltered, the misplay making the piano ring an off tuned sound. A broken noise.

Turning your focus back to the koopa, you noticed the angle of his face no longer flowed with the wave of musical passion. You saw him bare his sharp teeth in anger, the smug grin from his confident playing wiped clean off his snout. His claws hovered with a twitchy tension above the monochrome keys as if he didn't wish to inflict the aftermath of his rage onto the instrument. His eyes twitched as his bushy red brows furrowed in spiteful annoyance, following a distinct streak of black smoke that pushed itself out of his nostrils.

Blinking, you turned your gaze forward to think again. F major seven. G major. F minor… and then another misplayed key that sent a growl echoing into the silence of the room that fought against the popping sound of lava. F minor… but what if…

"Try A-Sharp minor," you chirped, leaning your body forward on the hard seat as you looked up at him expectantly. His attention turned away from the piano, his head tilting up slightly so that he could more strongly look down at you.

Instead of the friendly acknowledgment you would have hoped for, the king gave you silence. His eyes were sharp and narrow, cast in a fiery glow that made his frown appear shadowed and menacing and arrogant. The look made you slouch back in your seat, watching as he huffed out yet another cloud of ash. This time you could taste the sulphur on the base of your tongue. "Be quiet," he instructed, turning his head back to the piano with an irritated swing of his tail. You watched as his hands clenched and unclenched above the keys.

"I'm only trying to help you-"

He snarled, the sound deep and guttural, causing your mouth to shut in an instant. It was a wordless instruction that made you cross your arms.

Sitting up straight, you grumpily turned your body away from him as an act of small rebellion. Your features lay low on your face then, a small pout twisting your lips. Though you refused to look back, you could feel his eyes on you as the silence hung like thick goo between the two of you. Then you heard him shuffle and you relaxed at the tentative press of one of the keys. The king went back to playing.

Starting from the very beginning, you closed your eyes as you let the sour taste of tension dissipate with the sound of the notes. You were lost in the sound of the piano, only hearing the sound of King Bowser's breathing whenever a pop of lava snapped you back to reality. Any stolen glances you permitted yourself revealed not a face of anger, but instead one of contemplative concentration that did not affect the quality of the piece. He wordlessly continued, note after note, chord after chord, until he returned to the end of the section.

The first chord sounded. Then the second. Then the third. You were certain that he would hesitate again, but to your surprise he played your suggestion, minimally delaying to play the starting chord again. A minute or two passed as the giant koopa finished with the piece. Then he stopped and you opened your eyes.

Slowly, his eyes scrolled to meet yours, brows raised lightly with his lips parted. He stared at you with those brutal red eyes, his hands playing the chord again, and again, and again causing you to shrug. Letting his features relax, it was as if the aimed annoyance had completely dissipated from his body.

"I wasn’t expecting you to actually play it," you mumbled. However, your surprised tone was lost on him as he tilted his head up, side eyeing the piano before looking back at you.

“How’d ya know?”

You hummed, kicking your feet slowly in the air as you balanced on the metal seat. "I thought about it."

Your kicking stopped as a low growl rumbled in his chest, his snout pulling back incredulously, "you saying I didn’t?"

"No," you turned your entire body to face him, stradling the seat to match his show of arrogance, "I'm just saying that I did."

“It doesn’t explain how you knew the chord.”

“It does.”

He grumbled, “does not.”

“Does too.”

Huffing, the king childishly tossed his arms in the air, turning his attention back to the piano with a pout evident on his snout, though he didn't seem to notice, or at least he didn't seem to care. You observed him intently as he froze in his spot, thinking. Then his clawed hands pressured down on the piano in favour of a different tune. It was a lively one, a melody that originally belonged to a much larger, angry symphony. However, when singled out the tune almost sounded happy. Hopeful. It was also a composition that you definitely recognised, and one that King Bowser played with an expert's touch.

Your intrigue had returned, and you subconsciously leaned your body in. It was honestly beautiful. His hands fluttered across the length of the piano. The movements were muscle memory, the skill seemingly engraved into him.

Tilting his head from side to side as if he breathed the music itself, you almost missed the side glances he threw your way. Every once in a while, after every enunciated chord, you saw his downcast, amber gaze turn to you.

Whether it was him showing off once again - probably what the original purpose of coming to this room was - or it was a test, you did not care much. You listened, then you took the bait. You allowed your hands to flow in a familiar motion, as if you held onto a conducting baton. Every other moment, you listed the key or the chord he had played. You saw his fingers twitch at this, but he continued and so did you.

Sometimes he would slow down the tempo, sometimes he would speed it up. Most of the time, throughout the course of the piece, his eyes remained on you, bar from the few glances back at the keys. He played the piece to its end, exhaling a loud breath before his attention turned to you. You were still humming, in your mind finishing the parts that the very much missing ensemble could not. When you looked back at him, his eyes were glowing flames, though it wasn’t in any form of wrath. It was a curiosity, one that silently egged you on.

"I know how to play," you offered with a grin, your finger pointing at the piano through the bars of your cage. However, your hands were quick to dart back to your face to cover your grin. This was your kidnapper. He no doubt wanted to butter you up to use for ransom or he wanted to use you as a tool in a political war… and yet even knowing that fact, the grin refused to leave your face. Especially not after you saw His Majesty gawk at you with a smirk of his own.

He blinked a few times, eyes twitching from you to black shell of the piano. Then they closed, the grin dropping. You waited, and after a moment he opened them again. "Prove it."

Your lips thinned slightly and you tilted your head to the side. You ran your hand down one of the golden bars of the cage, your brows raised, "from in here? Or will you let me out?"

The king huffed then, and just as his lips moved to respond, the doors to the room creaked open and your collective attention turned to the single magikoopa that entered the room. He looked startled and unsure. Frightened almost. It was a dull reminder of who exactly you were sitting with.

"Your Majesty, Kamek requires your presence," the magikoopa said with a prominent waver in their voice.

Poorly masking the forming anger, King Bowser blew out a steam of flames at the unwelcome interruption, standing from the piano stool. His eyes looked to you before he shook his head, once again flicking his wrist with a disinterested persona. "Take them back to their room. Make sure they're fed well."

Your eyes widened, "what? Hey!" But the king ignored you, stomping angrily out of the bright room. He ignored your shouts, and you had to bite your tongue into silence as the mage awkwardly lifted you cage with a mist of purple magic.

Though it had an inconvenient end, that was not the last time you sat in that room.

———————————————

A/N: Get rickrolled all of you.

Bowser Masterlist

#bowser #bowser x reader #bowser x y/n #bowser fanfic #super mario bowser #bowser fanfiction #mario bros #bowser super mario #super mario #super mario x reader #bowser headcanons #king bowser

[stromuprisahat]

Alas, the king was not of a forgiving mind. Urged on by his mother, the Queen Dowager Alicent, Aegon II was determined to exact vengeance upon those who had betrayed and deposed him. He started with the crownlands, sending forth his own men and the stormlanders of Borros Baratheon against Rosby, Stokeworth, and Duskendale and the surrounding keeps and villages. Though the lords thus accosted, through their stewards and castellans, were quick to lower Rhaenyra’s quartered banner and raise Aegon’s golden dragon in its stead, each in turn was brought in chains to King’s Landing and forced to do obeisance before the king. Nor were they freed until they had agreed to pay a heavy ransom, and provide the Crown with suitable hostages. This campaign proved a grave mistake, for it only served to harden the hearts of the late queen’s men against the king. Reports soon reached King’s Landing of warriors gathering in great numbers at Winterfell, Barrowton, and White Harbor. In the riverlands, the aged and bedridden Lord Grover Tully had finally died (of apoplexy from having his house fight against the rightful king at Second Tumbleton, Mushroom says), and his grandson Elmo, now at last the Lord of Riverrun, had called the lords of the Trident to war once more, lest he suffer the same fate as Lords Rosby, Stokeworth, and Darklyn. To him gathered Benjicot Blackwood of Raventree, already a seasoned warrior at three-and-ten; his fierce young aunt, Black Aly, with three hundred bows; Lady Sabitha Frey, the merciless and grasping Lady of the Twins; Lord Hugo Vance of Wayfarer’s Rest; Lord Jorah Mallister of Seagard; Lord Roland Darry of Darry; aye, and even Humfrey Bracken, Lord of Stone Hedge, whose house had hitherto supported King Aegon’s cause.

Fire and Blood (George R. R. Martin)

How badly do you need to piss off the Lords, for Brackens to defect and join the same side as Blackwoods of their own free will?

#ASoIaF #Fire & Blood #valyrianscrolls #ch: The Dying of the Dragons: The Short Sad Reign of Aegon II #Aegon II Targaryen #Alicent Hightower #Elmo Tully #Benjicot Blackwood #Humfrey Bracken #Riverlands #Dance of the Dragons #V #GRRM #books #quotes #anti Greens

[emkini]

heyy I read towards the sun the other day bc I saw you mention it and it fucked. so ty!!!! if you feel like it, do you have other atla recs? 👀

Ohohoh do I

Notes:

I tend to be primarily a zuko-centric gen fic enjoyer in the atla fandom so that's what most of these are gonna be!

Pretty much every author on this list has a bunch of stellar works and I'd recommend checking out all of their ao3 profiles, but these are just some of my personal favorites!

I've been having a Rough Time™ lately, so most of my faves fall on the soft and squishy side– if you're looking for heavy angst I do not have much of it 😔

-----------

Salvage (complete) by @muffinlance is by the same author as Towards The Sun and a fandom classic at this point; I cannot recommend it enough. Summary: Mid-Season-One Zuko is held for ransom by Chief Hakoda. Ozai's replies to the Water Tribe's demands are A+ Parenting. Hakoda is… deeply concerned, for this son that isn't his, and who might be safer among enemies than with his own father.

The Fire Nation Yacht Club series (reads as complete) by @sword-and-stars gives me all the emotions. Summary: Sokka knows three (3) things: 1. The caldera is on fire. 2. Ozai’s really, really dead (and so is his daughter). 3. The only one having a worse day is probably Zuko. / Everyone has their breaking point. This is what happens after you’ve broken. In which healing is a process and also it kind of sucks.

For Hearth and Home (complete) is another classic fic by the same author (honestly just check out all of their work, it's all stellar) that I absolutely adore. Summary: There’s a child underneath Fire Lord Zuko’s desk. He doesn’t realize this until he sits down and tiny hands wrap themselves around his ankles, and Fire Lord Zuko definitely does not shriek and backpedal away at the unexpected touch. He definitely does do that but Gou, the single guard he’s agreed to let shadow him, is kind enough not to mention it.

Mountains and Badgermolehills (complete) by Glass_Onion is an incredibly fun and well-written romp of a read. Summary: After the Blue Spirit frees the Avatar from the Pohuai Stronghold, Admiral Zhao captures Prince Zuko under suspicion of treason. Isolated from his Uncle and his crew, Zuko has only one ally: the chatty prisoner one cell over.

The Art of Burning (incomplete, ongoing) by @hella1975 is superb- lots of angst, lots of emotions, and lots of memes. Summary (excerpt): In a warring land, the Water Tribe forgave the enemy in an act of defiance. For this, he was torn from them, and this time, his wounds won't heal so easily.

Embers (complete) by Vathara is another fandom classic– one I have not yet been able to finish because dear god is it long. like holy shit. Very dense and plot-heavy and an incredible read if you're a lover of worldbuilding and fantasy politics. Summary: Dragon's fire is not so easily extinguished; when Zuko rediscovers a lost firebending technique, shifting flames can shift the world...

where the stars do not take sides (complete) by WitchofEndor is a very sweet and interesting canon divergence fic, and of course as always I am a SUCKER for the fire siblings being close. Such a sucker. Summary: When Azula is nine, she becomes an only child. She hears the Fire Lord call for Zuko's life, and in the morning, her mother and brother are gone. Azula may be young, but she isn't naive. She knows what happened to them. Which makes it all the more surprising when Azula tracks the Avatar down and fights his group of peasant friends, only to find herself staring into an eerily familiar face.

Honor & Vengeance on the High Seas (complete) by @paramouradrift is a very fun read– I haven't finished it yet but if you love boats, pirate Zuko, and angry teenagers being gay and doing crime, I guarantee you'll have a good time. Summary: Zuko was banished, but instead of devoting his life to finding the Avatar to regain his honor he gave in to his spite and became a pirate against Ozai.

And the world, still so wild, called to me (I was lost, I’d been kept on my knees) (complete) by delightfullydiscordant– An Aang-centric fic that hurts my HEART Summary (excerpt): A study in grief and loss, in anger and hate.

a viper-lizard's tales (incomplete, ongoing) by Yumi_Take is really sweet and very fun; it has a simple but unique and interesting prose style that I really like. Summary: The desert sun burns and Zuko probably shouldn't touch the moving cloth, but he does anyway.

#ask #anonymous #fic recs #atla

[butterflies-and-bumble-bees]

Exult, let them exult, the hosts of heaven, exult, let Angel ministers of God exult, let the trumpet of salvation sound aloud our mighty King's triumph!

Be glad, let earth be glad, as glory floods her, ablaze with light from her eternal King, let all corners of the earth be glad, knowing an end to gloom and darkness.

This is the night, when once you led our forebears, Israel's children, from slavery in Egypt and made them pass dry-shod through the Red Sea.

This is the night that with a pillar of fire banished the darkness of sin.

This is the night that even now, throughout the world, sets Christian believers apart from worldly vices and from the gloom of sin, leading them to grace and joining them to his holy ones.

This is the night, when Christ broke the prison-bars of death and rose victorious from the underworld.

Our birth would have been no gain, had we not been redeemed.

O wonder of your humble care for us! O love, O charity beyond all telling, to ransom a slave you gave away your Son! O truly necessary sin of Adam, destroyed completely by the Death of Christ! O happy fault that earned so great, so glorious a Redeemer!

O truly blessed night, worthy alone to know the time and hour when Christ rose from the underworld!

This is the night of which it is written: The night shall be as bright as day, dazzling is the night for me, and full of gladness.

But now we know the praises of this pillar, which glowing fire ignites for God's honor, a fire into many flames divided, yet never dimmed by sharing of its light, for it is fed by melting wax, drawn out by mother bees to build a torch so precious.

O truly blessed night, when things of heaven are wed to those of earth, and divine to the human.

Therefore, O Lord, we pray you that this candle, hallowed to the honor of your name, may persevere undimmed, to overcome the darkness of this night.

Receive it as a pleasing fragrance, and let it mingle with the lights of heaven.

May this flame be found still burning by the Morning Star: the one Morning Star who never sets, Christ your Son, who, coming back from death's domain, has shed his peaceful light on humanity, and lives and reigns for ever and ever.

(my favourite parts the Exsultet)

#catholic #catholicism #easter vigil #the easter vigil #easter #easter sunday #holy saturday

[jarondont]

i finished the iliad.

my heart is in pieces right now. patrochilles is so cute, at least they reunite in the underworld pretty quick (i think). but hector and andromache... everyone leave me alone i'm thinking about hector

imma rant

*SCREAMS*

ACHILLES YOU'RE GREAT AND ALL BUT YOU DID NOT JUST DO THAT TO HIM

YEAH YOU'RE MAD THAT HE KILLED PATROCLUS

BUT WHY'D YOU HAVE TO DRAG AROUND HIS CORPSE LIKE THAT

AND HIS FAMILY

PRIAM. “I have endured what no one on earth has ever done before- I put to my lips the hands of the man who killed my son.”

THAT FREAKING HURT

AND HECUBA. "dear branch in bloom, dear child I brought to birth!" MY HEART.

AND DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON ANDROMACHE AND ASTYANAX.

--

"Her voice rang out in tears, but the wife of Hector had not heard a thing. No messenger brought the truth of how her husband made his stand outside the gates. She was weaving at her loom, deep in the high halls, working flowered braiding into a dark red folding robe. And she called her well-kempt women through the house to set a large three-legged cauldron over the fire so Hector could have his steaming hot bath when he came home from battle-poor woman, she never dreamed how far he was from bathing, struck down at Achilles' hands by blazing-eyed Athena."

--

and then later:

--

"'Astyanax! The Lord of the City, so the Trojans called him, because it was you, Hector, you and you alone

who shielded the gates and the long walls of Tray. But now by the beaked ships, far from your parents. glistening worms will Wriggle through your flesh, once the dogs have had their fill of your naked corpse- though we have such stores of clothing laid up in the halls. fine things, a joy to the eye, the work of women's hands. Now. by god, I'll burn them all, blazing to the skies!

No use to you now, they'll never shroud your body- but they will be your glory burned by the Trojan men and women in your honor!'"

--

AJKFHADLSKHFAKSDHFAKJSDHFKA

Also the insults Achilles spat as he died.

--

"Beg no more, you fawning dog- begging me by my parents! Would to god my rage, my fury would drive me now to hack your flesh away and eat you raw- such agonies you have caused me! Ransom? No man alive could keep the dog-packs off you, not if they haul in ten, twenty times that ransom and pile it here before me and promise fortunes more- no, not even if Dardan Priam should offer to weigh out your bulk in gold! Not even then will your noble mother lay you on your deathbed, mourn the son she bore ... The dogs and birds will rend you- blood and bone!"

--

THAT HURT.

anyways yeah i loved the iliad. just... homer, i have a bone to pick with you

#iliad #the iliad #hector of troy #hector #priam #hecuba #andromache #astyanax #scamandrius #achilles #homer

[sleeps-au-bag]

yanqing didn't expect to wake up in a box in all honesty. he hadn't expected to fall asleep at all. the last thing he remembered was practicing his forms in his room as he waited for the general to call him for breakfast. there was no way he could have fallen asleep, not when he was training. unless...

a groan was heard right next to him. suddenly, he was hyperaware of the two other people stuck in the box with him. he couldn't move that much considering how little space there was but he did catch a glimpse of white and blue hair respectively. thankfully the box was big enough where they wouldn't be smushed together but it was still tight enough that they were forced to lean against each other.

one of the people snuggled into him, presumably still asleep. whoever says his face felt hot is a liar. the other person (who apparently had their arms around him) adjusted their grip around him. now he was effectively trapped.

the other two were mostly likely still asleep. yanqing started to think about their situation. most likely, they've all been drugged and kidnapped. but by who? it couldn't have been the disciples of sanctus medicus, their numbers have been dwindling by the day and it's impossible to sneak into the general's house without being noticed. that is unless they have someone insane enough in their ranks to do so. another option could be ransom or assassins but neither make sense. why not just kidnap him? why take these two others? why not take on the general directly like all the others?

"huh? where are we?"

yanqing didn't jump. "i don't know myself. i've been awake for a few minutes now." the one with white hair just hummed. she must've noticed they were touching because she suddenly tried to give him space. "oh my gosh, i'm so sorry! i didn't mean to-"

"hey, it's okay! there's not enough room to move in here and you were asleep."

"nnnnngh, my head hurts... huh?! wha-?!" it seems like the other person is awake now. they immediately tried to let go of him but he heard a thump. not big enough to let them move around. noted.

"well, now that we're all awake and stuck here with absolutely no explanation, we should probably introduce ourselves." yup. absolutely a great idea. great job yanqing. totally didn't make things awkward.

"um, i'm clara! i, uh, live in the underground of belobog with mr. svarog." belobog sounded somewhat familiar. isn't that the only city left on that one planet? he'll focus on that later.

"i'm lieutenant yanqing of the cloud knights. i live on the xianzhou luofu which is part of the xianzhou alliance." he could practically feel the person holding him vibrate with excitement.

"greeting, my name is misha. i serve as a bellboy at the reverie hotel on penacony." three different people from three different planets and factions. unless the other two were also important on their own planets, yanqing couldn't see why clara and misha would be taken as well. unless... no. he doesn't want to think about it.

the other two conversed as he thought about reasons as to why they would have been taken. doesn't mean he didn't notice the sudden rise in heat. misha must have noticed as well. could he also use ice or are bellboys just like that? no time to think as the box suddenly opened and they all tumbled out.

he could hear someone talking but he could only focus on clara and misha. no he didn't focus on their faces because he found them kind of pretty! he was just concerned that they were hurt! that's all. yeah.

he heard more groans coming from the room. it seems like they weren't the only ones taken. he looked over and froze. no way. maybe it's just the blue fire making him see things because there was no way.

but there was some way.

"QING-GE?"

"XIAO-BAI?"

not only did they take clara, misha, and him, but whoever kidnapped them also took lady bailu, future ten lord huohuo, and another little girl who clara seemed to know.

just who took them?

#unexpected stop in twisted wonderland au #honkai star rail #yanqing #hsr yanqing #clara #hsr clara #misha #hsr misha #bailu #hsr bailu #huohuo #hsr huohuo #hook #hsr hook #twisted wonderland #twst #yes i did take the qing-ge and xiao-bai thing from a oneshot featuring the two where they almost died i thought it was cute #oh boy they got isekai'd (not that they know that) #they're all likely ooc bc i haven't been to belobog in a while nor played through penacony yet (curse my laptop) #i also haven't gotten yanqing's companion quest #also yes i have been hinting tooooooooo #clarmishqing #horrible ship name i know but it's the best i got #anyways this is the beginning to the game except nobody pays attention to grim #my poor boy

[karume-everything-else]

Flufftober 2023

Day 28: "You're the love of my life, of course I came." [Reader x Kakashi Hatake] {Naruto/ Shippuden}

Mission after mission after mission, it felt like it would never end. You knew it likely wouldn't end, though you didn't know how much longer you could keep up with this break-neck pace. Yes, the Village needed the money these jobs were bringing in, but you were starting to get severely burnt out and it was showing with how little control you had over your chakra.

Which was how you wound up captured by a group roaming nin. You weren't sure what they wanted you for, you weren't even sure if they could ransom you in any form. What you did know was that this was some serious trouble and all you could do was wait for an opening.

And hope you could escape...

You were waiting for the embers of their campfire to die down, cloak you with just enough shadow that you could loosen the rope tying your wrists back. Enough wiggling should get you out of here without having to worry.

But before you could start wiggling, you felt a presence behind you. A person cloaked in nearly complete shadow, kneeling behind you to avoid the dying glow of the fire. Based solely on the feel of the chakra, you knew they were friendly... but that was all you could tell. Whoever it was seemed to have mastered lowering their chakra to something nearly indistinguishable from a small dog.

"Just stay still until they fall asleep." That was a voice you recognized so well, it took all your restraint not to relax or squeal a little, "I already poisoned their drinks with something to speed up the process, just give it a minute."

You couldn't nod or give any real indication that you understood. But good gracious were you relieved Kakashi had come for you. Not that the two of you were traveling together at the time you'd been captured, but you were supposed to rendezvous with him for the last half of his mission. It meant so much that he'd come for you... especially since he usually didn't wait around when you were late like this.

But as the roaming nin started to drop like flies, you scooted back. Getting far enough away that standing wouldn't wake them. As you entered a small glade, there he stood. Silver hair glinting in the light of the moon sickle, looking just as nonplused as ever. And yet, there was something about the way he was standing that made you think he had been so worried about you.

"You came for me this time."

"You're the love of my life [Name]," Kakashi sighed, "Of course I came looking for you. Not that we should let our personal lives dictate how we act in the field, but I knew that something had to be wrong when I didn't see you a few minutes late."

You stopped short of hugging him, "You mean to tell me that you can see me coming and you just keep going without waiting for me to catch up!?"

"Yes, but only because I know you will catch up." He only felt comfortable taking your hand at the moment, leading you onward to the next mission, "Though, you seem to be wearing yourself far too thin to be caught by a group like this. Is everything okay?"

"Yes and no." You were just able to fall in step with Kakashi, "Lord Third has had me going back out on missions as soon as I return to the Village, if he doesn't just assign me to a second or third mission right after I wrap up one in the field. I get why, and I'm by no means complaining about it. I'm just getting a little tired is all."

"Well, I'm going to complain about it." Kakashi muttered a little darkly, "There really isn't any reason you should be running double and triple missions while Anko and Genma are sitting around doing nothing."

"Kashi, you really don't have to kick up a fuss." You tried tugging his arm to persuade him, "I'll be fine."

"You're not going to win me over with puppy eyes this time. My mind is made up." He huffed, "And you clearly aren't fine if you're being captured by the likes of those idiots. You need rest and I will lock you in your house if I have to."

Kakashi was glad his mask covered most of his face, the way you giggled at him. He would always be a little overprotective, even if it was like pulling teeth to get him to admit to it out loud.

#x reader #naruto shippuden #naruto kakashi #naruto shippuden x reader #kakashi x you #kakashi x reader #hatake kakashi #kakashi #kakashi hatake #kakashi sensei #flufftober 2023

[droolfang]

venus fangs oc masterpost

gonna try and list my characters for y'all, will update as need be!! by no means comprehensive.

SETTING: Worth Her Weight In Gold (WHWIG)

planned fantasy novella full of wg/tf/tg shenanigans. Mostly the adventures of Amandine (a 7 foot tall draconic princess who is "worth her weight in gold" and thus fattened magically by would be ransomers) and her retainer Olivier (a transgender mommydom in the form of a nervous beanpole gentleman)

Character: Amandine

she/her, bratty princess, sometimes a dragon

Character: Olivier

he/she? depending on context. Amandine's nervous retainer

Character: Elizar

he/him, mercenary who kidnapped Amandine for ransom

Character: Daire

he/she? depending on context. kink wizard hired by Elizar to fatten Amandine

SETTING: southern fried slasher verse

characters i have with my partner based in the nebulous american south who kill and eat people

Character: Elvis

he/him, bartender and serial killing vampire

Character: Mitch

she/her, vindictive slasher tranny

SETTING: grizzoli's

series of erotic short stories involving the members of the vampiric grizzoli's circus as they hunt magical artifacts and fuck nasty

Character: Antoni

he/him, but maybe she/her??? prettyboy vampire bottom

Character: Dolby

she/her, tgirl hired muscle

Character: Mel

she/her, vampire apex predator

SETTING: d seas

pirate shenanigans w my partner

Character: Sargasso

she/her, dark magic pirate mob boss

Character: Grimleash

she/her, sargasso's left hand, bsdm pirate, tgirl with the strap representation

Character: Juno

he/him, demigod of the sun, hedonist and egotist

Character: Bax

he/she, closeted trans girl and all around backstabbing slut rogue

Character: Hound

he/him, Bax's brother, put-upon noble warrior who has just been fired

Character: Invicta

she/her, bax and hounds overbearing mother, pirate warlord

SETTING: science

mad scientist shenanigans with my partner

Character: Esme

she/her, body-mod snake woman, loves unethical experiments

Character: Ivar

he/him, stoner tboy lab assistant who oozes black ichor

Character: Mandel

all pronouns, bug who's happy to be here

SETTING: gothic fantasy

gothic fantasy shenanigans with my partner

Character: Desmond

he/him, vampire saint who keeps a woman in a cage

Character: Labrador

she/her, dream demon and noblewoman

OTHERS

Character: Marlow

she/her, govt assassin with superpowers

Character: Sable

she/her, office feedee

Character: Mordere

she/her, rat eating vampire lord

Character: Lillith

she/her, ancient vampire businesswoman

Character: Prim

she/her, lilliths familiar and airhead

Character: Vervaine

they/them, partyslut toxic alien

Character: Hugo

he/him, galactic fugitive with a body horror parasite

Character: Sagitta

he/him, alien warlord

Character: Frolick

she/her, frivolous chimera

Character: Cowsona

she/her.... my sona.... sometimes a dragon, or even a mouse

#fangs talkin #fangsart

[muffinlance]

Fellow Prisoner Li, Part 6: Bloodbender (Positive)

Read from the beginning || Previous

“When the moon rises,” Hama spoke softly, as they guarded the door of the inn. 

Katara eyed the sky above the trees. Evening was coming, but the sun would still be up when Tui fully rose. But it wasn’t night that gave them power: it was the moon. The moon, which wasn’t quite full anymore. 

“You’re stronger than I ever was,” her waterbending master said, squeezing her wrist. “And we have to try.”

Fire Nation imprisonment was what they were bound for, if they didn’t try now. Katara had already stared into that fate, and broken its last survivors free.

She stretched out her fingers, slowly. Watched the Fire Nation princess, impatiently pacing across the clearing.

She’d do more than try.

* * *

“A spirit,” the princess repeated, pinching the bridge of her nose. “That kidnaps people. Every full moon.”

“Yes, princess,” one of the guards said. They’d just come from the town.

“Then find me his bones, if you must, but find him,” the princess snapped. She had no patience for this.

Katara would have as much patience as she needed. Just like Hama, in that prison.

Just like the moon, as it sang to her blood. Soon.

* * *

Soon.

* * *

“Princess, we found—”

“There was a cave, we’ve got more people seeing to the rest—”

“Bring him here,” the princess said, belying her own demand by stalking closer to the soldier who was carrying a limp form. Azula’s back was to the inn. The attention of the other soldiers was on the newcomers, and what they carried. 

Now. 

Azula stopped mid-stride. Jerked, like someone had pulled her strings taut. It took a moment for the soldiers to notice that something was wrong. Took them longer, to identify the source.

Katara didn’t need to stand to do this. She sat on the steps of the inn, and crooked her fingers, and made the princess spin towards her in a pirouette human muscles were not made for.

“Good,” Hama whispered, into her ear. 

“You’re going to order them to let us go,” Katara said. “Or this will be the last thing you feel.”

It… looked horrible. Worse than when Hama had her practice, during the full moon, on the chicken-pig that was to be their dinner. They’d butchered it afterwards, and the master had shown her the way the blood vessels had burst and muscles torn where the soft flesh had twisted too hard against bone. Slow movements, Hama had said. Smooth. Like hanging a rag to drip, not like wringing it out. 

Unless you want them down, she’d added, and turned her knife away from anatomy and towards making them a stew. Then as fast as you can. 

The princess jerked in her hold, as much as she was able. Her torso was free, the soft organs and lungs and heart left alone. Her head, as well. Katara held her by arms and legs, as she’d been taught.

Don’t try for the head unless you want them dead. The brain has a lot of water. 

“You dare,” the princess spat.

Katara looked at her. For the first time, she was not at all afraid of the Fire Nation. 

“Order them,” she repeated.

“Princess—” said a solider. One of many who were uneasily shifting into stances ready for attack. 

“Stand down,” the princess barked. “Let them leave. Kill them if they kill me.”

Katara stayed sitting on the steps, her fingers cramping, meeting the princess’ gaze with her own as Sokka worked to free Appa from the net. As Hama helped the elders into the saddle, one by one. As Sokka politely—Excuse me, I’ll just be taking that, thanks for the find—reclaimed Li.

She couldn’t see their firebender breathing, from here. But she could feel the blood in his veins. She could feel it all around, in every enemy and every friend, pounding against her head. Her fingers twitched involuntarily. The princess grit her teeth against a gasp. 

“I’ll just be taking this, too,” Sokka said, scooping the princess up in the same bridal carry he’d just used for Li. “You can tell your Fire Lord to expect our ransom letter.”

“Sokka,” Katara said, between teeth clenched with strain. She couldn’t tell him I can’t do this much longer, because she didn’t know what would happen if the soldiers or princess heard. But she couldn’t, it was… it was too much, and everywhere, and she wasn’t sure for how much longer it would just be the princess. 

Pulling water from plants had been easier. She hadn’t cared which ones had wilted. 

“Katara,” Sokka said. “It’s free royal hostage.”

The princess went in the saddle. Hama helped Katara up, too. And then they were in the air, and—and she could let go. Relax. Let the only pulse she felt be her own.

She’d done it. 

She was crying, and Hama was hugging her, and another elder on her other side was too, and the moon was high above them white and brilliant and she’d done it.

“You’re so strong,” Hama said, holding her tight. “Such a master you’ll make. You’ll never have anything to fear, my child. It’s the world that will fear you. Our beautiful, brave southern bloodbender.”

The princess sat in the back of the cramped saddle, rubbing slowly at her arms. She was watching Katara. Katara couldn’t read her expression, through the tears. And to be honest? She didn’t really care.

She’d done it, she’d done it, and she could have done so much worse. 

If the princess didn’t recognize mercy when she saw it, it was only because she was still alive to disagree.

#Katara: this new skill is terrifying (positive) #Hama: if you’re the monster your enemies warn their children about then you’re doing it right (affirmative) #Meanwhile Aang sitting up on Appa’s head: I guess that was technically non-violent and I sure do support non-violence (edge-of-breakdown) #can't wait to learn that haha (breakdown intensifies) #One hundred years late #Aang regrets not paying more attention in Bending Ethics 101 #Fellow Prisoner Li #Avatar The Last Airbender #atla #Katara #Hama #bloodbending #is extremely useful #it's not its fault it's the powersaw of bending #respect your tools #(and clean the blood splatter off them when you're done) #chapter links will henceforth be to the AO3 posting because those are so much simpler than Tumblr ones

[ronearoundblindly]

for the comfort ask!! ☺️🫶🏻💕💕

🛎 - Someone at their beck and call + any character you want

Ransom Drysdale x rich!Reader from The Root of All Ransom

ooo, big shock: warnings for cursing and sexual references (nothing explicit)! WC 1.2k

‘The Wank’ is a fucking terrible friend who Ran is more likely to set fire to than embrace if he ever sees that rat bastard again.

Oh sure, it’s all fun and games, riding ATVs around this British lord-boy’s estate until that drunk idiot cuts too close in front of his invited guest, clips the tire, and launches Ransom over the front and into some ancient stone wall. He looks like a million bucks—Million Dollar Baby, that is—with all his bruises and lacerations. At least his face is unscathed for the most part. Ran couldn’t handle being fucking ugly on top of the embarrassment of being bedridden for a couple of weeks.

It was only supposed to be a quick few days' visit before he went back to the States, but instead, he’s stuck in the Wank’s mansion while the fucking prick leaves to go do other stupid things with their other stupid friends…

Why Ran keeps thinking of these people as friends, he’s not really sure, but once the doctor—who showed up with two nurses to a sprawling estate in the middle of goddamn nowhere—tells Ransom he has to remain like a vegetable in this musty four-poster, he calls you furious.

He calls to complain loudly, but Ran knew you would come.

Even though he is anxious and pissy for the whole thirty-six hours it takes for you to handle what business you can, book transport from Beijing to London, and then get a car to drive all the way to the boonies, he thinks he’s doing reasonably well when you arrive.

In reality, he’s already cursed out every member of the household staff willing to enter his room. Ransom is a terror when sick, and no one has the luxury of him drugged during this lay-up.

You’re graciously given a room to work out of but keep your Bluetooth in your ear all day every day unless you are in bed asleep. He fucking hates it. Ran is given a bell to signal he needs something and has no ability to distinguish needs from wants when bored.

“Would you stop talking like I’m not here?” he hiss-yells as you try to go back to work one day after bringing him a tray of breakfast.

You cover the end of the device and snap back, “These are prime business hours where I am supposed to be right now. I have to stay on the phone.”

When you turn to leave, Ran hits the bell.

You face him, challenging with narrowed eyes, so he hits it again. Twice.

But you don’t take the bait and shut the door behind you.

Ran’s bored—horrifically bored—and lonely. He beats down on the bell in cacophonic irritation for a solid minute before you rage back into the room.

Your hand slaps over his on the cool metal chime.

“Hugh Ransom Drysdale,” you intone between clenched teeth, “you are abusing your bell privileges. If you do not stop, I will go back to Beijing tonight, and no one here will help you. Do you understand?”

His brow is just as angry as yours, but Ran’s lips pout. He huffs anyway, nodding his head, and after you let go of his hand, he admits quietly, “I want to go outside.”

Your face softens.

You sit by his hip, seemingly exhausted by the thought of coming all this way, acquiescing to his every whim, and returning to work. Outside the tall windows shines a lovely English morning after days and days of clouds.

Ransom watches you sigh hopefully.

“I’ll see what I can do,” you whisper, patting his knee to avoid reaching over his tray. “Do me a favor though?”

“What?” Depends on the favor so Ran promises nothing.

“Will you please use those damn wipes for something other than masturbating?”

His whole body stiffens uncomfortably.

“Even a whore’s bath will do and don’t act all innocent, Hugh! I know you,” you giggle, relishing the tease and the pink stain blossoming on his neck.

He glances over at the packet on the night stand. “A…a wh—“

“Pitties, titties, and bitties.” You stand and fail to smother your grin.

He hates this. You know he hates this. He knows you know he hates this, and yet Ran chuckles involuntarily. He knows you’ll try—knows that you are trying—to make him happy. It makes him so mad.

You’re the one with a job and a business and the money, and you’re forced to nurse him like a fucking invalid. A year ago, he would have loved this shit. Now he just feels like the fucking wanker.

He has several remaining bandages which cannot get wet, so he can’t shower. Ran can, however, get himself to the ensuite but it takes all of his energy and turns him into a ball of rage until he takes a nap.

Which is so fucking stupid, he thinks, but it’s the truth of it.

He struggles for the whole morning. He actually has to split the tasks of picking out clothes to change into, resting, using the bathroom, resting again, cleaning himself as best he can to put on boxers, resting atop the covers because he now notices the sheets smell, and then gets dressed.

He waits, puttering around social media on his phone, head shooting up to the door at any tiny noise from anywhere beyond his cage of a bed.

You come back at lunchtime, sans earpiece, and look genuinely impressed that he’s decent, which is so fucking sad that he wants to die, but he wants to go outside more.

He has to lean on you to get all the way to the lawn, fiercely focused on the blanket laid out under the closest tree, taking comically huge breaths of fresh air before collapsing when you give him the okay.

The picnic and tea are nice. The formality of the service, even though the staff only brings out the dishes and a basket of food, reminds him of Sunday brunches with Linda, so he doesn’t really fucking care about the food. He’s not really hungry.

Ran lays down flat on the grass-padded blanket and drifts to the soft rustle of leaves and birds chirping.

After who knows how long, he peels his eyes open to see the sun in a completely different spot and you still right next to him, relaxed and peering up, hands tucked behind your head.

“Hey,” he finally says to get your attention.

You shift your head, lips pulled into a squinty smile he can’t resist. “Hey, yourself. Have a good nap?”

Ran nods, getting his bearings from the murky waters of sleep. He notices you stayed. You didn’t go back to work. You didn’t trade off taking care of him. You got something you needed, too: peace and quiet, so he says the most obvious thing that comes to mind.

“You’re welcome.”

He’s rewarded with you bursting into laughter.

from this game of "Comfort My Characters"

Thank you for asking!

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @starkleila

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

#ro answers #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale x reader #the root of all ransom #ransom drysdale fluff #ransom drydale x you #ransom x reader #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale imagine