#wylde answers sweet people

[lya-dustin]

All is bliss

Chapter 12

Warnings: mentions of physical assault, domestic abuse, abuse of power, vigorous slut shaming

Taglist: @mercedesdecorazon @darylandbethfanforever9 @sweethoneyblossom1 @aemondx

Gif:@raya-rhaenyra-ahsoka

“I just had Morning burn Lady Wylde’s dress for insinuating you were a whore.” Rhaena, who is the softer of the twins and least likely to lose her temper, crossed her arms as the two sisters catch them red handed.

“She is not a whore.” Aemond snaps at her. Same Aemond Aemma has to put a hand on the small of his back to keep him from getting more insulted on her behalf.

“We never said she was, One-Eye.” Baela rolled her eyes and stood protectively in front of her sister. “But having met your brother, its no wonder she writes so often about you.”

This seems to appease Aemond, who asks, rather touched, if its true.

“Gods, she goes on and on about you. It’s sickening.” Baela answered and he almost smiled.

“The way she writes about you, you’d think you weren’t the same boy who said I should fly a pig.” Rhaena said forgetting it was not all water under the bridge.

At least for Aemond who came out worst of all.

Aemma had gotten some bruises and scrapes trying to get them off him, but whatever had happened had been forgotten when the queen demanded Luke lose an eye over a very dreadful accident.

Aemond tensed both visibly and under her fingers and Aemma had no idea how this would go.

Chivalry says he cannot hit a girl.

Except Aemond is only chivalrous when it suits him.

No one speaks, Baela waits for him to fuck up and he waits for them to apologize still believing he was the injured party ---all of them were the injured party but hell would freeze over before Aemond admits he may have started that fight.

“Anyways, lovely seeing you, and if it is alright with you, cousin, we’d like a moment alone with our sister.” Rhaena continues as if she had never said a damn thing.

“Come to my rooms tonight, no one will bother us there.” He whispers and kissed her hand because if he kissed her again, neither would stop.

“You are in love with him,” Baela does not even wait for Aemond to be out of the room.

“I-“ Aemma isn’t sure why the word yes is so difficult to articulate.

It had been so easy to confess her love to him. Perhaps it was because it was just them, the only people who matter in the relationship.

“You are!” Rhaena, the more romantic of the two, squeals as if it were the most exciting news.

She loves him.

If such love did not condemn her, he would be overjoyed at her words and feelings.

“Your children will be stunning.” Jena comments as they meet in the halls.

She wears gold now, Aegon’s colors.

Used to wear dark greens for him once hinting at her place in his bed.

Cannot be obvious, well, too obvious. Mother is obsessed with looking morally upright despite being as human as the rest.

“You have bruises on your neck, my lady.” He points out despite the powder she uses to cover them. “Your husband or my brother?”

Despite how things ended between them, Jena was a friend to him.

And even if she were not, Aemond hates how easy it is for his brother to get away with his sins.

“He got carried away, happens when he hears the two of you at it like rabbits. Nice use of my teachings, your sweet princess will be swelling up with your bastard in no time.” She comments and tries to drive the conversation away from his topic.

“Jena.” He warns.

“He is your brother, the man who will be king after your father finally kicks the bucket in these coming weeks. He is untouchable.” Jena stares straight ahead knowing he’s done far worse. “Your mother made damn sure he was above the law.”

Mother was no help, the girl would be given moon tea, sent far away and if she dared speak to anyone about it, found herself killed by mute assailants.

A truly righteous woman would have said son disinherited and sent away whether on exile or the Wall.

A queen staking all she has on his claim, wouldn’t care if he was Maegor in the flesh as long as she could make him king.

He needs to be king or else she will kill us all, your eye was just the beginning, his mother had whispered after telling him he’d never see from his left eye again.

“If Rhaenyra stays here, he may not become king. In fact, he may not even be king ever.” Aemond is relieved that Aegon loses his coveted position of consort the moment the marriage is over.

“Hate to say this to you, sweetling, but the High Septon doesn’t follow the whims of the king. He follows the whims of the Hand. You and your pretty princess are fucked.” Jena retorted with her usual optimism. “What happens when her moon blood fails next moon?”

She was a realist, knew how the world works and refused to believe in hope.

She also had a point.

What happens when Aemma is found to be with child?

He prays his seed does not take.

But then again he prayed for his eye to heal and that never happened.

The gods have never liked him. Why would they start now?

The king has decreed they all get along and all pretend to love each other.

Helaena and Daeron are easy to love, especially now that Helaena has managed to take him to Driftmark saying Tessarion needs to spend time with male dragons.

Aegon, however, is a monster underneath the veneer more dangerous than his than his brother in some regards.

Like Sunfyre, great looking beast with penchant for breaking whatever eggs Dreamfyre has been able to bring forth.

Aemond, well, he is more of an acquired taste.

But the Aemond that hides beneath the cold shell is rather nice.

No one would believe he was wonderful to her and her alone.

“Gods, of all the men here, you had to choose him.” Baela comments as they help her finalize the plans for this afternoon’s tea.

They are supposed to have tea and fruits and play some games in the largest of the gardens.

Aemma is also going to remind a certain lady fond of wearing black and gold lately what her place is.

She is above such petty shit, but her reputation has suffered some blows and Aemma must do something to show the court she is not to be their plaything.

The easiest way was having the pavilion she had ordered match Lady Jena’s newest dress.

It had been too easy. The royal tailor had not needed any bribing or threats to get her to order that fabric and get an entire curtained pavilion done in record time.

“He is not as awful as he appears to be.” Aemma says in her lover’s defense.

“Is he that good in the sheets for you to defend him so? Did his cock make you forget the things he said and what he would have done to your brothers that night?” Baela scoffed and asked crudely.

There are many sides to a story, especially that one.

If you asked Aemond and his family, he was cruelly attacked by the twins and her brothers when he had done nothing wrong.

If you asked the twins and her brothers, Aemond had began with insults and had Luke not maimed him with Jace’s knife, his head would have been bashed open with a rock.

Both were right and also wrong.

Aemond did play dirty by not waiting until Rhaena had been rejected by Vhagar as Helaena did when Dreamfyre rejected him, that is just common dragon claiming courtesy.

Baela and Rhaena should have just walked away from Aemond’s insults instead of throwing the first fist.

Aemond should not have mentioned the Harwin thing nor picked up the rock.

Jace shouldn’t have brought out the knife.

Aemma should have tried harder to pull him off her brother instead of running for the nearest guards.

Alicent and Criston should have never even breathed the word bastard to her children.

“I have not forgotten, Baela. If you knew him truly, you would think so ill of me for loving him.”

It was bad enough that the boys never got along, but feeding your children the bitter poison you spew ends with them hurt.

You would have thought all of them would have learned from that.

#aemma velaryon #aemond targaryen x velaryon!oc #all is bliss fic #aemond x ofc #ewan mitchell

[kerra-and-company]

past present and futures #10 for kerra? (i know the "future" one is a little grim if you'd rather skip it!)

Thanks a bunch for the ask!! :D (And thanks for that too <3 I think I'm good to answer it, but I appreciate that)

PAST

10. What did they dream of doing when they grew up? How and why did it change, if it did?

Kerra's dreams have both shifted a lot and not really changed at all, haha. She knew (or thought, at least) that her Wyld Hunt was to defeat Zhaitan, and she went out into Caledon to figure out more about how to do that. She ended up both helping deal with Zhaitan's minions and just generally helping a whole lot of people, and she realized that she really enjoyed helping people, so that became a dual goal alongside Zhaitan. Outside of that, she never really had a typical human-kid dream--it's just kind of shifted over the years depending on her current situation, but the general sentiment remains the same. Admittedly, she's added on "being happy" to her goals/dreams since right before LWS1, which is very important too. (I have just realized that this, combined with the fact that she's a sylvari, means that she could in fact steal that line from Tangled and tell her partners that they're her new dream, and I find that both funny and sweet as;dljfs)

PRESENT

10. What do they always carry with them and why?

1) At least one very small dagger, hidden somewhere unobtrusive--a habit that she picked up in the Order of Whispers. She figured it could be useful someday, and seeing as it definitely has been, she keeps doing it.

2) During LWS2, PoF, and LWS4, the portal stone to Tarir so she can travel to see Aurene.

3) Her communicator (which she convinced Taimi to give an off button) for easy communication purposes.

4) At least one small bag with a bit of gold in it so she can avoid putting things on a tab. This bag also contains a smaller bag with pieces of the pod she awoke from in it and some lavender.

5) Her bracelet, which is generally the only jewelry she wears and is from her partners.

6) The cog Tybalt gave her before they left for Claw Island, "for luck, even though you don't need it."

FUTURE

10. How do they want to be remembered after they die?

As someone who helped, someone who loved and was loved, and someone who made a difference.

#gw2 #kerralind #vampiricsheep #thanks a bunch for the ask! :D #always happy to ramble about kerra

[moonlit-grove]

Was that your first kiss prompt please

I couldn't help myself... new ship time!

Oraed/Leivas... some fun with perspective in here too

Mordremoth's call was so sweet. I wasn't in the best mindset at the time to weather it. His call, lulling me into the false safety… promising to make my pain go away. I'm ashamed to say how close I came to falling.

But you were there. You took my arm, pulling me back. Your resolve, your courage… fueled me. Kept me moving. I lost Aerin to Mordremoth already. Aerie used to be so sweet, so much fun to be around. I promised to avenge the memories I carried of him.

And you helped me. You stayed by my side. You made sure I wouldn't fall. The Dragon fell. Not us. We were- are- alive. The Maguuma Tree was found. Jamilyn needed our help. Train her siblings to fight and heal. The poor things were ravaged by the dragon. Worse than our Mother. But we helped them. As best we could.

We moved on together. Finding people worth protecting. Eventually found our way to the desert. Helped the Commanders kill Joko. On that battlefield, I saw her. I felt my wyld hunt sing when she landed in front of me, fire blazing and obliterating Awakened in her path.

I knew. I had to follow.

And you came with me. I didn't even have to ask.

She became glorious. Gorgeous. The prismatic dragon. And you and I… we joined her army. Her crystal blooms.

I think… At some point, our relationship changed. Sitting here, beside you… I find my mind stalling. Thoughts swimming violently before, now calm like the gentle waves on a beach. You smile. So gorgeous.

You lean closer to me. My eyes close. I feel our lips touch. Humans call it a kiss. I don't want it to stop. You rest a hand on my thigh. I place mine on yours.

It stops too soon. Your smile is still there.

"Was that your first kiss?" You ask in a whisper. I don't need to answer. I do anyway, with a nod. You press another to my nose. "Mine too."

#oraed rinn #leivas #gw2 #ask game #ship name? still dont know

[spaceskam]

they don’t know about us

for day 1 of @isobelevansappreciation​: fashion | imagine 

ao3

The people of Roswell had a very hard time understanding how the relationship between Isobel Evans and Gregory Manes came about.

Greg was a sweet boy who had hardened only a little by joining the military, always kind in a 'help-an-old-lady-with-her-groceries-then-puts-her-cart-away' way and it was unmistakably genuine. Isobel, on the other hand, always seemed to be a product of her upbringing. She was always assumed to be uptight and arrogant with money in the forefront of her mind. It was why she was interested in Noah Bracken, the town had deduced, and he had liked her looks. That’s how they made sense of it.

But Gregory didn’t have money and he had never gone for girls like her. It just didn’t make sense.

Mrs. Young hadn’t even believed the rumors of them being together until she saw it with her own two eyes. They were at the Evans’ annual Christmas party and she had honestly been on her way to ask for the recipe Anne had used to make her horderves when she spotted them and decided to peer around the corner. As to not interrupt, of course. She was, however, particularly scandalized by the way Isobel had tightened Greg’s tie around his neck so tight he had to lean against the wall for balance.

“Now, you be a good boy tonight,” she’d overheard Isobel say, “And maybe I’ll let you…”

Mrs. Young had quickly left to tell Mrs. Wylde about what she’d seen. Soon, the gossip of the way Isobel Evans manhandled poor little Gregory Manes during Christmas time spread through the town like wildfire. Honestly, it was funny at first. 

It made it to Michael by way of housewives who gossiped while watching him work. The conversation was split, half of them envying that Isobel had a man she could whip into shape and the other half saying how sad it was that even the Navy hadn’t made him into a real man. Whatever that even meant.

Isobel, sadly, had to find out about the rumors of her allegedly concerning affair from her mother. A story of her fixing his tie had twisted into a lie of Isobel doing unspeakable acts to him in public, stripping him of his manhood for all to see. None of the stories said how much he enjoyed it, however, which was truly the biggest blow to her ego.

“I don’t care what you do,” Anne had said, genuinely exhausted, “But, please, for the love of God, Isobel, keep it behind closed doors. Do you know what Julie Van der Berg said she doesn’t want children around you? And don’t get me started on all the girls at bridge club saying you were the first woman to take the man out of a Manes. Or the Manes out of a man, who knows. Keep it to yourself.”

But Isobel had kept it to herself. What was being said was someone had spotted something they didn’t understand, couldn’t understand because it wasn’t their business, and started spreading misinformation. That didn’t feel like Isobel’s problem, but they refused to let her live it down.

It was all fun and games, laughably ridiculous, until she went to the grocery store. Everyone she passed gave her looks. They usually did, but this was different. Women upturned their noses or whispered things about her to whoever they were with. Men either shook their heads at her or stared her down to the point it was outright overwhelming. She ended up leaving before she could get her full list.

That night, she had Greg laid out in bed with his eyes shut as he caught his breath and a wide smile on his gorgeous face. She loved seeing him like that, open and confident and honest. The idea of anyone seeing his face and thinking he was emasculated was a travesty. What was more manly than asking for what you want and receiving it?

“Are you happy with me?” Isobel found herself asking. Greg lifted his head to look at her, concern on his brow. She just waited for an answer. Whenever he realized she was being extremely serious, he sat up and leaned forward to tuck her hair behind her ear and get just a centimeter away.

“I’m happier now with you than I have ever been in my entire life,” he said honestly. She scanned his face to make sure he was being genuine.

“You don’t think I, like, emasculate you or whatever?” she asked. It was weird to even ask. She knew she wasn’t. She’d spent her whole life surrounded by men and she never really had a problem like this before. Well, in high school, people thought she was a little weird because she only hung out with Max and Michael, but that didn’t bother her. That wasn’t their business. 

But that time she hadn’t had such a massive group of grown people talking shit about her.

“What?” Greg laughed, “Where the hell is this coming from?”

As she stared at him, she wondered if he really hadn’t heard anything. It gave her a little bit of strength to smile and lean forward to kiss him shortly.

“Some lady my mom is friends with saw us together at the Christmas party last week,” Isobel admitted against his lips, “She spread a whole bunch of shit about how you’re too nice to be dealing with someone like me and now everyone is talking about us.”

“Why is what we do any of their business?”

“It’s not, but they clearly made it their business,” Isobel pointed out. He rolled his eyes and moved to lay parallel to her completely.

“Screw them. I’m happy with you.”

Isobel traced his jaw slowly, taking in his words and trying to internalize them. It didn’t matter. It would blow over. Once upon a time, she didn’t care what people thought about her. She just had to be that person again.

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

Isobel pulled him down for a kiss.

#isobelevansweek20 #isobelevansappreciation #belmanes #belmanes fic #isobel evans #gregory manes #roswell new mexico #my fic

[saladbarselectionmenu]

Amadaria awakes from the dream by force the dawn after nightmares attack, confused and disoriented she spends a week comatose with the other sylvari forced to awake early.

Caithe and the mender who help her with her early awakening (emeric) are massive forces that influence her life, along with the other sylvari who live in the kennels raising hounds once one of her escape attempts actually sticks after shes considered well enough to actually be out of the menders gardens.

Sweet and honest and almost terrifyingly determined to see people stop fighting and reach peace, Amadaria wields diplomacy like most people wield a sword - quickly, accurately and most importantly cuttingly. Her wyld hunt is more than to just kill the Elder dragons - it is to help, to Fix. an unending burden with no defined answer that wears away on her year after year.

The Event X

Awakening fic under the cut!

On ao3: X

Waking is a burst of light. Young lungs struggling. Confusion and dizziness. The world tilts as the ground rushes to meet you.

Waking is the bright gold of the sun, a hazy smear to new eyes painting bright and gold over mountains and marsh land. Vivid pink dusting over wispy white clouds in a brilliant blue sky as day spreads across the world.

Waking is brief and confusing, cold and disorientating. Yelling reaches you. The light fades as you sleep again - drifting, untethered.

Amadaria lurches to awareness with a startled yelp. Confused, dizzy and only half coherent she tries to stumble from where she’s laying before hands grab her shoulders and ease her back. “Woah there!” a voice she doesn't know - not that she knows many, “Careful, you shouldn't be moving yet - shouldn't even be awake! You’re going to be a stubborn one aren't you?” The voice tinges with amusement towards the end. Her eyes trace the hands, wrists, arms, to a smiling, kindly face. Bark like skin and honest eyes, purple-red leaves swept back from his face haphazardly.

“Who-” she blurts, “wait! Wheres Caithe! Is she okay? What happened to the dragon? Are the other dreamers alright?!” she rushed, half in a panic and pushing weakly against his hold.

The other sylvari barely seemed to register that she was pushing at all - a grounding squeeze of the shoulders his only real acknowledgement from where he was knelt by her bed.

“Breathe,” he soothes, “my name is Emeric and I am a mender. You are within the menders gardens - have been for nearly a week in fact. Caithe is somewhere here in the grove, she is fine. The nightmare attack on the dream was rebuffed, the rest of the dreamers who were forced awake with you are here.” She calms hesitantly as he talks, eyes flicking back and forth over his face in search of a lie. As the tension creeps from her back and shoulders he releases his grip on her. “Well done,” Emeric rumbles, voice deep and clear “How much of what happened do you remember?” Amadaria blinks up at him, eyes wide but clear for the first time, “We were in the dream, like we always are. Then… Dogs? These big beasts like Sweetpea but all black and covered in thorns, they looked like hurting and they were hurting everyone else!” her brows furrow as she stills, looking down to her hands, “then, someone like a dreamer who wasn’t, that Caithe lady, she saved us? She came to help. Told us to run and asked for any who would to help, but.” He waits a moment, then gently prompts “But?” “There wasn’t really anyone left - three of us maybe?” she whispers, hands going to her lap as if to grip something and stalling over empty space. “Everyone had run back - into the dream past Ventari or-” she stumbles, becoming quieter then. Her shoulders turning in and head ducking down “or they’d died already.” Silence descends back over the small ward then, as Emeric considers her and Amadarias small form remains curled over itself, gripping the soft lichen blanket in tight fists.

Emerics touches the tips of his fingers to the back of Amadarias clenched fist, “Sapling,” he coaxes, “not everything was lost to the Nightmare. There are other dreamers who awoke with you here, remember?”

Surprised she looks up to meet his eyes then swings her head to look around the room rapidly. Sure enough a handful of other beds - five she can see, six including hers - with sleeping sylvari lay in the room. Chests rising and dropping in peaceful sleep, each one alive. “They're okay?” she breathes, swinging her head back around to his to lock eyes, “they’re going to live?” Emeric chuckles gently and pats her hand, “Yes sapling, they will live. Thanks in no small part to your effort I'm told?”

Amadarias glow flares bright amber across her face and over the dotted patterns in her hair, leaves poofing out like the startled fur of a mammalian cat.

“I- Well! I mean that was mostly Caithe right? She called for help and I just, just answered.” she stammered.

Emeric gives a heartier laugh then, “But answer you did! I’m sure the other dreamers will thank you for it, when they awake naturally.” He stands then and fetches quickly a bowl of - something. Whatever it is, the dream hadn’t shown her.

“You’ll need to eat this - all of it.” he says, passing the bowl to her along with a spoon. Inside is some kind of paste made from a honey coloured syrup and pale blossoms.

“What is it?” she questions, poking the mixture with the spoon and watching it glob and stretch like honey.

“It’s blossoms and tree sap - specifically sap from our mother. It’s the same thing all sylvari grow in before we awake. All of you will have to eat it until you can reach where you should have been when you would have awakened naturally.” he unhooked a clipboard from her bed and flipped over a sheaf of paper that had been hung on her bedside noting something down while she watched, “it’s the same thing we’ve been feeding you all as you slept this past week.” Head tilted and curious she spooned some of the mixture into her mouth and chirped a sound of delighted surprise.

“It’s good!” she enthused, beginning to eat it properly and depleting the bowls contents rapidly.

Emeric smiled over at her, clipboard still in hand as he fiddled with the pencil.  “Most people with a sweet tooth tend to find the taste pleasing, yes. It seems you’re one of them. It will replace the magic you should have been getting from the dream and the mother for now.”

He sets the clipboard down with a click and takes the emptied bowl from her as her eyes start to cloud and droop, blinking rapidly to try and clear them with a muzzy noise. An amused breath escapes the mender as he helps her sit back against the bed again, “The rest of your examination will have to wait, sapling. Sleep safely.” It's the last thing that reaches her as the world slips away once more.

#gw2 #amadaria silverskin #commanders week #original characters #commander #pact commander #gw2commanderweek #Monday Day 1: Origins #monday #origins #day 1 #sharing fic is terrifying but here we are #lmao emeric didnt exist until this was written #he was supposed to be one of the cannon menders #guess i have to design this guy now #wcud #i just realised i dont have any pics of her when shes's just awake #oops #have an ice brood saga place holder #/shrug emoji/

[fellis-world]

I could bite myself that u have to write this again. Its...different. Gladly i could save half of the work. But i am still sad. Well...it isnt perfect. But to qrite it is way shorter than to draw it xD I always wanted to create a story how Eos and Aeris met. And now, i am finally satisfied with the result. Maybe you will like it too 🙈

A peaceful awakening was not what Aeris Starsong was granted. The moment he opened his eyes he was already in the hands of the nightmare court. Kidnapped before he even knew what was going on. For two years he was tortured, humiliated, tormented. Abused for the pleasure of the court and used as a training dummy. He quickly learned that there was no point in thinking about this injustice and shut down his mind. As long as it worked, he would not be tormented. As long as he did not think, he would not suffer. Without feelings it would become easier. It went on like this for two years. Then came Eos. He swept through the yard like a force of nature. Aeris still doesn't know what mission Eos had, but he remembers Eos standing by his cell. Tiny, delicate, but shining like the sun itself. And he reached out his hand. Patiently he waited for Aeris to decide to take it. To win his freedom. The moment he reached for it, everything became white. Later he would learn that a courtier shot him. He would learn that Eos blew up the entire camp in a fury. He would learn that the little Sylvari had injured himself. To protect him. A stranger. It took weeks until Aeris realized that there was no danger in the grove. He learned to read, learned to articulate himself properly. Things he had never learned or forgotten. But he could never forget the small sylvari who had saved him. When the sun went down, he was found on a ledge. Even if it rained. He would sit there and sing. Soft sounds would fill the air as soon as the moon rose. A fellow prisoner had taught him to sing. "It frees your soul and helps against fear," she had always said. She died singing. He would not give it up for her sake. If he believed in it strongly enough, would he see the other again? He wanted to believe in that. One evening he stood with him. Aeris didn't notice him at first. But he noticed the soft hum that accompanied his song. After he finished neither of them said a word. But Aeris watched him. He noticed the scars around his small, tender fingers. Still bloody in places, inflamed cracks that disfigured the little hands and which most likely hurt terribly. But the little sylvari only smiled. Aeris wanted to say thank you, but the look into his bright eyes made him feel as if it was self-evident. It was not. He heard stories about Eos. Rumors about his incapability to control his powers. His courage, his naivety. He got to know his loneliness. His task, his Wylde Hunt, his insecurity. Aeris wanted to help him. But how? Months went by while he thought about it. They met almost every night. And while Eos talked a lot , Aeris never answered. He just listened. The evenings he didn't see Eos were lonely. And again and again he thought about how to thank him. One day he made up his mind. It was almost winter when they met like every evening. Eos always brought back candys from his travels, from all the places he visited during his missions. Aeris didn't like sweets that much. Eos laughed and told him stories. About humans, Charr, Norn, Asura. So many people he had met. And yet, Aeris thought, he was alone. And he had made his decision. After years, he would speak his first word. Silently he whispered "Brother...". A shy whisper. Almost inaudible. But Eos had heard it. A satisfied nod was his answer. Eos leaned on the shoulders of the larger one and hummed contentedly. "Yes". Aeris smiled for the first time. That would be his thanks. And they would share the name Starsong...

#bad writing incoming. #that happens when you pay attention at what you are doing #deleting is not editing dear felli!! #eos starsong #aeris starsong #how they met...

[gyeomork]

Connections

(jackson wang x reader) 

genre: fluff, light smut, college au

warnings: sexual content, mild cursing

word count: 3.8k

a/n: i don’t capitalize my letters in this so if that bothers you, i’m sorry :( also italicized words mean they’re speaking english. also i lol don’t know what im talking about with all that “reading people” shit i just took a wyld guess but i hope you enjoy anyway ^3^

i enter my first class of the year, psychology 3. i take a seat, not really paying attention to who i sat next to. i take my laptop out of my backpack, place it on the table, flip it open and get ready to take notes. it was a new school year and i was not about to slack anymore. sophomore year was a complete shit show and i could not afford that this year, literally. i was skipping class like it was an olympic sport but guess what? tuition still had to be paid. i open up google docs and title the new document ‘19/8/19 notes, assignments & hw ’. the professor begins to speak and my full attention is now on her.

an hour passes and the class was wrapping up. “ok class the homework is for you all to make a powerpoint presentation on the person sitting next to you. you must analyze them as a person, describe their character traits and so on and so forth. think of it as an ice breaker activity and a way to make a new friend. more instructions will be posted online. i count 24 of you so i expect 24 emails on friday 23/8/19. presentations will be the following monday, if there are any questions feel free to email me. class dismissed.” i close my laptop and reach for my bag when i hear a deep familiar voice next to me say “hey! how’s it going?” i look to my right and see jackson, jackson wang. god not again. this man was handsome to say the very very least and a heart throb. i should know because i had him in psych 2 last year. we would almost always end up having to do a project together and almost always turn it in 2 minutes before it was due. it’s not like we were the best of friends and every time we met up we didn’t do work, it was just that we never really did meet up. every time he would text and ask i would be too scared to be in the same place as him because of how intimidated he made me feel. when we did meet up it was the night before so i absolutely had to go, for the sake of his grade. we wouldn’t talk much but when we did he was, for the most part, really nice. “hi.. jackson. it’s going.. good” i say quietly. “oh, that’s good. well if you’re free right now we could go get coffee to jumpstart this little project” god he had the cutest smile on his face. “oh yeah sure just let me get packed up” i said trying to avoid his gaze like the black plague.

after to fumbling with my belongings under the immense pressure his eyes were putting me under, we were finally able to leave. on the walk to the cafe, jackson sparks up conversation. “so, y/n, last year we never really talked much and i was a little let down because you actually seemed really cool. so i’m glad i get to do this project with you. i wanna get to know you” he looks over to me and grins widely. i return a small smile back. “where are you from?” he asked sounding genuinely curious. “the states” i mentally curse at myself for giving such a short, dry answer but he hums anyway. “i’m from china but i came here for a change, you know” “yup” i curse at myself again. a small silence passes, extra emphasis on small. “since you’re from the states do you-“ “speak english? yes” we both chuckle and god he was adorable. “oh cool so we could have our own semi-secret language” i give him a ‘you’re ridiculous’ look and we chuckle again. “so did you teach yourself english or did you go to an international school?” finally! i’m making semi-decent conversation. “international but i did do some studying on my own. so what about you? how did you learn hangul?” “ i loved watching and still do love watching dramas so one day i just got really annoyed with having to read the subtitles and just started teaching myself. i never really expected myself to get proficient at it, it just happened. then i thought i should put some use to it more than just dramas so i came here” wow the way i just rambled on just then. “ so how do you like it here?” he continues with the questions. “at first it was kind of hard to get used to because i went from using english every day and using hangul sometimes to using hangul every day and english sometimes” jackson nods in understanding. “ and then there are slang words that you need to learn and sayings and really understand the culture” he adds on. “ yes! exactly” regret of being so intimidated of him last year now fills me. he’s so easy to talk to. ugh am i stupid?

we reach the cafe and he opens the door for me “let me get that for you” “kam-sa-hap-nee-da!” i said in the most american accent i could do and he lets out an actual laugh that ascends me to the heavens. we both join the medium sized line. “you can just tell me what you want so you can go have a seat and i’ll bring it to you” this man is an angel. “iced americano, venti sized please and thank you” i say with a close-mouthed smile. “coming right up” he reciprocates the same smile. i make my way to a small booth in the corner by the window. i take out a small notepad and jot down things i’ve noticed about jackson. eventually, i get lost in thinking about how sweet he is and how easy he is to talk to and how his laugh is opposite of his deep voice and how his smile makes him look like a baby and then how he turns all hot again and oh my god i have a crush on jackson. like a cue, jackson comes and sets his and my coffee down and takes a seat across from me “thank you so much” “no problem” we both take a sip in unison. “analyzing me already?” he asks grabbing my notepad. all i had written was ‘really good energy’. really y/n? what the hell is that supposed to mean? he makes a ‘not bad’ face and sets my notepad back in front of me. i keep sipping and look out the window. “ok, ok” i could see him trying to hold in a snicker in the corner of my eye. i whip my neck to look and him and ask swiftly “what? why ‘ok ok’? what?”. “hm? nothing” he replies, still trying to hold in that laugh. “wah~ making fun of me already. at least i have something written down” he raises his eyebrows at me. “i have plenty of stuff written down in my head” “oh really?” i say in disbelief. “yes!” “ok. then prove it” i sit back and cross my arms. “just in the last 10 minutes, the things i’ve noticed ok. ready?” i just nod. “shy; when you laughed or smiled you didn’t show teeth. closed off; you chose the booth furthest away from other people. passive; you did nothing when i snatched your notepad. trusting; you trusted me with your drink and that i didn’t do anything to it. physical traits; well put together, pretty-“ i felt my face heat up and i had to stop him. “alright, alright you proved your point.” i waved him off and he laughs. “you asked for it” he says, laughter still in his voice. “i asked for you to prove yourself not show off” i say fake sulkily and extra pouty. he laughs even louder and makes a few heads turn. “ok jackson! people are looking.” i whisper shout and smile at him fully this time. “oh! you’re smiling” he points “you’re not shy around me anymore!” “ok you have to teach me how to read people like that” i rest my hand on my chin and my elbow on the table. “well, for starters, we could go back to the ‘getting to know you’ questions. so, when’s your birthday?”

after hours of talking, we had to leave simply because the cafe was closing. jackson looks at his watch and widens his eyes. “it’s 22:58 (10:58 pm). oh my god. do you have class tomorrow? i’m so sorry for keeping you out so late, i’ll walk you home. where do you live? oh my god i’m really so sorry” he apologized profusely. “no” i say flatly. “n-no?” he furrowed his eyebrows. “i don’t have class tomorrow it’s fine” i let out breathy laugh. “do you?” i raise my brows at him. “no” he sighs out in relief. “alright come on. let me walk you home” i barely take two steps when i stop and drop my head into my hands. “my.. RA. it’s past curfew. i’m dead” i say defeated. “oh my friend i can stay with- she has class tomorrow and she’s probably sleeping” i say gaining hope and losing it instantly. “i guess i’ll just take the warning, it’s only one” i start dragging my feet i the direction of my dorm. “you could.. stay the night with me. my RA isn’t as strict with the rules”. was that nervousness i heard in his voice? jackson? the same jackson that told me stories of him being bold and fearless? jackson? wang? never. “i don’t want to be a burden-“ i wave him off. “ you won’t be” he insists. i look into his eyes and really sink deep into those two chocolate pools. all that is visible is purity and good intentions; i trust him. “ok” i smile. “thank you” “no problem”

we get to his dorm and as he is unlocking the door he informs me that his 3 other roommates won’t be there until late that night so we’re safe from the teasing. he opens the door and lets me in first. it’s dark until jackson comes in and turns on the kitchen light. he sits around the island and i join him. i take this time to look around. right across from the kitchen was the living room that was in good shape for 3 boys, diagonal of the living room was the laundry room that was neat too, there was a walkway from the front door in between the laundry room and the kitchen leading to the living room, and one long hallway/walkway passing in between the living room and the kitchen continuing both ways to god knows where. there was also a sliding door in the living room leading to the balcony. “you must be hungry. do you want me to cook or is takeout ok?” come to think of it i haven’t eaten since lunch.  i was so absorbed in jackson that i didn’t even realize how hungry i am. “yeah, takeout is fine” “is pizza ok?” he says pulling out his phone. “oh pizza is more than ok” i say, starting to get excited “ok miss pizza what would you like on it?” “pepperoni please~” “alright.. and the pizza is on it’s way” he hops off the chair with ‘hmph’. he walks over to me and holds his hand out to help me down. “thank you” i take his hand and get off the chair. “come on i’ll give you everything you need”. he leads me to his room at the end of the short hallway without letting go of my hand. he turns on fairy lights that aren’t too bright but are enough to make everything visible. he turns to the left to his walk-in closet to retrieve me a hoodie and some sweatpants. he tells me that when i go in the bathroom there should be an extra toothbrush behind the mirror. i say thank you for the 100th time today and go to sit on his bed to wait for him. “i can put something on if you want” he come and sits next to me on the bed. “mm..” i think about all the shows that i need to catch up on and finally choose one. “can you put on ‘he is psychometric’?” “ohh yes! what episode are you on?” he gets excited. “the last one and it’s so good, i just never have time to watch” “me either” he puts it on the tv and the pizza arrives. “that was quick” i say shocked because my pizza takes at least an hour to come. “yeah the place is right down the block; convenient” he comes back to the room with pizza and shuts the door.

we finish ‘he is psychometric’ and both of the pizzas. “i’m gonna go change” i take jackson’s clothes to the bathroom. i change into the comfy clothes that smells like him and brush my teeth. i pull my hair into a bun that i ruled ok for jackson to see and leave the bathroom. “oh you look good in my clothes but don’t go stealing it now” he says like he’s my father and gives me a stern look. i giggle and say “ok” sarcastically. he goes in the bathroom to change as well. i pull my notepad and pencil out my bag and sit in front of what seems to be his work desk. i write more analyzations and now have to flip the page thanks to jackson teaching me how to properly read people. i’m on a roll until jackson presses his hands on my shoulders and yells “boo!” “oh my god!” i jump and turn around in the swivel chair. “i’m sorry i had to” he laughs at me hysterically. “yah~ don’t do that! stop laughing!” i smack him on the shoulder repeatedly. “ok ok, yah!” he grabs hold of my wrists and is now inches away from my face; staring into my eyes. “i-i’m tired. where can i sleep?” i had to break the growing silence. jackson lets go and backs away “you can sleep on my bed, i’ll set up on the couch” he said walking towards the door. “no” i command, stopping him in his tracks. “ when the guys get home they’re going to ask why you’re on the couch and from the stories you’ve told me, you’re not a good liar” he turns back around but still doesn’t move. “you’re right” he says grinning. “well get on the bed so that when i turn off the lights you won’t trip and break your neck” “alright, no need to reference that traumatic story ok, that was a very scary experience” i say getting on the bed. “i’m just saying if you had a night light-“ “ok! jackson! good night!”

i was on the edge of sleep when i felt a heavy arm fall around my waist and a warm body touching all of my back side. steady breathing was blowing on the baby hairs on the back of my neck. he was sleeping. i suddenly started to feel uncomfortable in the position i was in and couldn’t take it anymore. while adjusting and re-adjusting my lower half, i inevitably brush up against jackson’s area. he didn’t respond so i assumed he just didn’t feel it so i continued on the quest to getting comfortable, all the while rubbing against him with my ass. suddenly jackson grips my hip. “you better stop playing with me” he growls lowly into my ear, ultimately ruining my new underwear i got from victoria secret on sale but i couldn’t possibly be mad at him. the ache in my core was way too strong to ignore so i reply as seductively as i could “who said i was playing?” while pushing up against him. he groans and i feel him grow beneath me. he attaches his lips to my neck and sucks and nips and licks away. he finds my spot at the base of my neck and i let out a low moan. when he feels as of though he’s left a satisfactory mark, he licks and kisses the spot. he turns me to face him and wastes no time in connecting his lips to mine. passion begins to fill the room as he climbs on top of me. the hands that are on my waist start travelling under his hoodie i had on. his warm hands on my bare skin was setting me on fire. one of his legs that was positioned between my legs started to rub against my core. i moan loudly into his mouth and he doesn’t miss his chance to stick his tongue in my mouth. i break the kiss to catch my breath and jackson moves back to my neck to leave more marks. i was lost in my own pleasure when i come to my senses. “jackson” i breathe out. he removes his lips from my neck for a brief moment “yes baby”. “what about the guys?” “fuck the guys” he tugs at the bottom of his hoodie and he looks up at me asking for permission. i nod and he removes the hoodie swiftly as he begins kissing his way down my body.

i wake up the next morning with the comforter covering more than half of my face so the sunlight seeping through the window didn’t bother me too much. i was initially startled about where i was but i soon remembered. then i remember the events of the night before. i turn around to see the beautiful man that shared the events of the night before with me. the light highlighting his features perfectly. from his fluffy, messy hair to his soft, plump lips. i move to brush away the hair that was in his face and move down to caress his cheek. how did this even happen? and how did it happen so quickly? i guess it’s the jackson effect. he flutters his eyes open and when he sees me, he immediately gives the softest smile. he pulls me closer in his arms and whispers “good morning princess”. i hum and say good morning back. “how’d you sleep?” he kisses my forehead. “really good” i take a deep breath, inhaling his intoxicating natural scent. we stay like that for a while until we realize that we have to leave before the guys wake up and tease us. or the extreme awkwardness considering the fact that we may or may not have gotten a noise complaint. jackson gives me fresh clothes to leave in and i freshen up, doing most but not all of my morning routine due to the shortage of time. i grab my bag and exit the room with him. we’re walking down the hallway when i forget my notepad on his work desk and go back for it. on the way back to him i hear voices coming from the living room, i stay out of sight to eavesdrop. “jackson i swear to god you should do my- no our homework for the next week” one voice says, putting emphasis on ‘our’. “i shut my door, turn my music on my speaker up all the way, and even covered my ears with 2 pillows but could still fucking hear you two. jackson i swear to god if you don’t warn us next time” another voice says and lets out a deep sigh. “you guys i’m sorry i really didn’t plan-“ another voice cuts him off . “no you’re not sorry, you’re gonna be sorry when your ass is doing my physics homework for the next week” “i don’t even know how to do physics” “well you better figure it out” i couldn’t hear anymore of this, i had to save him. i walk out into the living room “um.. g-good morning” i wave awkwardly. damn! this is exactly what i wanted to avoid. they all look up at me with wide eyes “good morning” they say all out of sync. jackson stands next to me and holds my hand “this is my girlfriend, y/n” my heart drops, comes back up, does some somersaults, and skips numerous beats. “y/n this is jinyoung, jaebeom, and mark”. i give a small closed-mouth smile. “well, this was fun but y/n and i have places to be” he looks down at me and smiles “let’s go” jackson starts walking to the door and drags me along. i look back and wave goodbye and so do they, still looking baffled. jackson locks the door and we start walking down the hallway. ”i could tell you were uncomfortable so i had to get you out of there” he says with a hint of urgency in his voice and i laugh. “thank you but were we really that loud?” i ask putting emphasis on ‘that’. “i don’t know but what i do know is that i’m that good” i roll my eyes at him “yeah ok”. “so ‘girlfriend’ huh?” he looks down and scratches the back of his neck. “y-yea” his ears turn red. “you haven’t even taken me out on a date yet.” i scoff in fake disbelief. “i was hoping that i could go on a date today and then i could confess to you but i guess i got a little ahead of myself” “you think?” we chuckled. “confession? how long did you like me?” “ever since i had to do that first project with you in psych 2. whenever i’d ask to meet up and you said you couldn’t it always made me think you didn’t like me. and when we did you were kind of standoffish so i gave up. until you sat next to me yesterday” he smiles thinking about it. “i’m sorry that i made you think that i was just so intimidated by you and your good looks and what not.” “good looks?” he raises his eyebrow at me. “take the compliment or i’ll take it back” “oh no thank you thank you”

we leave his dorm building to the parking lot and his car. “i changed up our schedule for today a little bit.” he unlocks the doors and we get in. “what did you change?” he starts the car so the hot air doesn’t literally suffocate us. “after we visit your dorm we have to go to the mall”. he takes my hand and intertwined our fingers. “the mall? why?” i look over at him and furrow my eyebrows. he looks at me and smirks “to get you back that cute little underwear i tore off you last night” brings my hand to his lips and kisses it.

#jackson wang #jackson wang got7 #jackson wang fic #jackson wang fanfic #jackson wang fluff #jackson wang smut #wang jia er #jackson wang imagine #jackson wang scenario #jackson got7 #got7 #got7 fic #got7 fanfic #got7 fluff #got7 smut #got7 imagine #got7 imagines #got7 scenario #got7 jackson #jackson #college au #jackson college au #jackson wang college au

[momomomma2]

Soulmate AU Dep/Sharky boy?? 👀🔥

Rook gets bullied for it when he’s a kid. It doesn’t come as a shock but it still sucks, teaches him how to pay back insults with sharp barbs and busted knuckles. His mom thinks it’s so romantic, spends hours dreaming about what sort of high class boy has a name like Charlemagne.

She makes him take French for years in case his soulmate might not speak English. The phrase “I started French lessons at age 6 because of you, you son of a bitch” is something carved into the back of his mind that he will never forget, even if he never speaks a lick of the language again in his life.

But he grows up. Grows older. Even takes a year between military service and Sheriff’s Department training to go to France. But nothing. He meets a few named Charlemagne but it never matches up precisely, the last name wrong or the spelling a little off.

Nothing.

So Rook does what most people do; resolve that it will happen or it will not and tucks it away in some far corner of his mind. To be fair, nearly the same week he arrives in Hope County, he’s got better things to worry about. A cult. A fucking cult. And he’s some rookie straight out of the academy totally unprepared for this but Rook’s learned to fight from a young age and he’s too damn stubborn to stop now.

So he fights, does what’s asked of him, gains a few friends along the way. Which leads him to here and now. Answering a radio call that, for once, didn’t seem distressed or in need of immediate help. Rook climbs out of the car, squints against the sunlight at the figure standing on top of a trailer, and rears back a bit when he starts spraying fire at the ground below him.

For the love of God.

His stomach clenches in an odd way as he climbs the ladder, boosting himself up onto a nearby trailer roof, but Rook just idly shoves it down with a thought that he should eat soon. It persists, twisting his head around, vision a little wobbly as he makes his way across the makeshift walkways between the trailers. But he makes his way, raising a cautious hand and calling over the roar of the fire as soon as he steps onto the trailer the man is on.

“Hope County Sheriff’s Department! Sir? You sent out a call?”

The man turns, grins, cuts the flame to cradle it against his chest and nod his head in acknowledgement.

His next words make Rook go cold, knees weakening so fast Rook thinks he might actually pass out.

“I am Charlemagne Victor Boshaw. But if you require more brevity in your day to day life, you can just call me Sharky.”

Rook cuts him off with an upheld hand, shoved probably too close to his face, hands already pulling at his shirt. The words are scrawled just under his collarbone, a necklace he’s never been able to take off, and he sees Sharky’s mouth drop open the second he lifts his shirt up to his throat.

“My name is Rook Wylde. Rook Rhys Wylde.” He winces, “I...know that it sucks. Sorry. My parents really liked it.”

“Dude,” Sharky breathes, grin too wide, scrambling to set his firepack aside, yanking and pulling on his own hoodie. “You got stuck with fucking Charlemagne. I’m not even mad.”

His name is there. Black as ink, scrawled across skin that’s littered with tiny scars and burns, on Sharky’s flesh in the same place it takes up on Rook’s body. Rook lets his shirt drop, hands already reaching out, meeting Sharky halfway. They come together, laughing, brightness in Rook’s chest to beat out the sun burning down from above.

“I learned fucking French for you!” Rook says in between desperate kisses, everything fading away except Sharky’s hands, his mouth, the sweetness of his laughter. “I thought you were some haughty French fuck somewhere in a random castle or something!”

“Dude, I learned chess because of you. If you don’t play, I’m gonna set like...every chessboard in Montana on fire.”

“I play, I play, I’ll teach you.” Rook laughs, shaking his head, unable to stop kissing him.

He’d heard stuff about soulmates before. How meeting them felt like a puzzle piece clicking into place. His parents were soulmates, he grew up seeing how they complimented each other in perfect ways, and always longed for something like that. He’s not quite sure it’ll be the same but fuck, this is amazing. This is the best day of his life by far, even with the cult still making his days a living hell.

“Man, this is like some Disney shit. I can’t believe--” Sharky stops then, pulling back a bit, hands still on Rook’s cheeks. “Wait...uh...Sheriff’s Deputy, right? Uhm...so you like...legally can’t arrest me? Cause we’re, y’know, soulmates?”

“Uh...no? I mean, legally no, I can’t. I’d have to get someone else to...if you needed to be arrested for something?”

“Oh man,” Sharky drags him over, one hand dropping to catch and pick up the firepack, tipping his head towards the pedals on the floor. “You know those Angels?”

Rook winces, thinks of soulless gazes and inhuman growling, “Yeah. Know’em a little too well.”

Sharky grins, slips the pack on, and slides his hand right back into Rook’s, bringing it up to press a kiss to the back of it that scratches with the sensation of his beard.

“Let me introduce you to the Disco Inferno. Most romantic date you’ve ever been on, I promise. And then later, maybe we can talk about doing it how I like to do it best, no pants and no rules.”

“No pants, huh?” Rook grins, tucks himself in close, feels his heartbeat skip with the excitement practically radiating from Sharky. “Tell me more.”

“You just wait, baby. I’ll tell ya everything.”

#far cry 5 #fc5 #soulmate au #sharky boshaw #male deputy #so hey rooks middle name is ridiculous too #i couldnt not do the name one with these too #remuslupinsmiled

[lisinfleur]

Deal

Universe | Vikings Pairing | Ubbe x Christian Princess! Reader Info | Viking Age AU, requested by multiple anons Words | 1411 ⁑ Warnings: ANGST, romance, mentions of violence, rape, massive murder, and blood.

“One of us will have to do it”, Hvitserk said, looking to his brothers around the table.

Ivar wasn’t even trying to pretend he was agreeing with that situation. He didn’t think that they should take the deal, in the first instance.

“We should just take the army and go into their lands. It won’t be hard to conquer this territory” he mumbled, annoyed.

“Perfect, Ivar.  You just forget they’re in their country, surrounded by allies while we are far away from home. They would be coming and coming till kick us out of the land and we can’t spend such a time trying to stick a claim by force when we can do it by an agreement.” Ubbe said, sighing. “There is a time to be calm and a time to be ruthless, my brother. And this is time to negotiate”.

“And what tells you that they will honor this agreement, hun?” Ivar asked, looking at him. “Ecbert once made an agreement with father and you saw what our stories tell about it!”

“But we have to agree father didn’t have any legal rights to the lands but Ecbert’s words.” Hvitserk spat back, causing Ivar to sigh really bothered “And also, we have Uncle Rollo’s experience, which fits really better with this situation and he is a successful king on Frankia”.

“Indeed”, Ubbe agreed.

“A Christian King, I shall remember,” said Ivar, arguing.

“One who still maintains a good relationship with our people,” said Hvitserk “which makes me believe he must be pretending his faith just in order to maintain his crown”.

“Don’t even count on me to this theatre” Ivar spat, annoyed “I’m a Viking, a raider, and a warrior, I belong to Odin and I seek for Valhalla, so don’t even think about the idea of seeing myself giving up on raiding like Uncle Rollo did”.

“You’re right,” Ubbe said, causing Ivar to look at him.

“Excuse me?”

“I said you’re right. You’re too harsh for this situation and your ways are too Viking for the coexistence. We need someone more… meek… and…” he silenced.

“Soft?” Ivar completed ironically.

“I’ll do it. I want to settle down anyway…” Ubbe said, sighing.

“So, it’s decided. Ubbe, congratulations on your marriage and let's pray for a beautiful princess at last.” Ivar said, sarcastic, receiving an elbow poke from Hvitserk for the joke “What??”

The deal was arranged and the marriage prepared, but Ubbe couldn’t see the bride until the time of the ceremony. He couldn’t say he wasn’t afraid. Ivar’s words were harsh…

What if she wasn’t attractive to him?

What if he couldn’t handle this marriage?

There were so many questions in his head, dancing as a firestorm, causing him a headache that he could barely handle.

However, all his questions silenced when he saw the brothers, sons of the king which who he was dealing the marriage, almost dragging a poor girl dressed in white, all the way to the carpet they had extended in the hall. She was crying, begging her brothers to stop. And he could see the way their grip was hurting her arms.

His instincts and his honor screamed higher than the deal and he went ‘till them, breaking the rules of that pathetic ceremony and taking the poor girl from their brute hands.

“Let her go, for the gods’ sake!” he grunted, hearing a salver of surprised and terrified sighs about the mention of his gods inside a Christian church.

Fuck it… The girl in his hand was shaking terrified! Wasn’t it an offense to their god?

“You’re hurting her!” he said, gently lifting the veil that covered her beautiful teary face.

She was so sweet and delicate. How could they treat her like that? Her eyes were filled and her face covered with tears that his fingers touched, softly.

“I know you’re scared. And I don’t know what they told you, but I promise, nothing is gonna hurt you from now on” his meek voice sounded like bells for her and she nodded, afflict. “What is your name, young lady?”

“I’m Y/N,” she said in a trembling voice. “Please, I beg you, don’t hurt me!”

His hands touched her face, so warm and cozy, trying to make her feel safe.

“I won’t. I promise, hun? Now calm yourself down… Shh… I won’t hurt you… No one will,” Ubbe said, leaning his forehead on hers, waiting for her breath to become calm again, with all the patience of the Universe.

He was so kind and gentle. So different from what she was thinking. Her brothers had lied to her, telling her she would be marrying a heathen monster, but that man with blue eyes so clear? He wasn’t a terrible vile and he didn’t deserve to be fooled as they were planning to do…

So she hugged him tightly, pretending she was still afraid. And she whispered just for his ears.

“Do you promise you will not hurt me, no matter what?”

“Yes,” he said, seeming to understand what she was doing, whispering back in her ear in an intimate conversation that was starting to make her father and brothers angry.

“We don’t have the entire day for this ceremony!” her father said, but Ubbe just raised one of his hands mutely ordering him to shut up, listening when she started to whisper once again, only for his ears.

“They are forcing me to this marriage cause I’m not pure anymore” she sobbed “One the princes of this court, he forced me to serve his desires and now he is trying to hide it with this marriage. But it will grant you no rights. I’m not the older daughter of my father and before me, my older sister’s husband will take the crown my father is promising to you. He intends to banish you and your men as soon as my brother in law comes with his men,” she confessed.

Her eyes on his now

“Please… Don’t let them hurt me anymore…” she begged so sweet…

Ubbe kissed her forehead. It wouldn’t be hard to fall for that woman.

But he had some things to solve first.

“Ivar…” his voice echoed, calling his younger brother’s attention. “Remember what I said about times to be calm and to be ruthless?” He asked, causing Ivar to straighten his body on the chair and Hvitserk to land his hand on the sword guard.

“Yes,” answered the youngest one.

And Ubbe’s eyes became fierce, looking to the princes and the king while his hands were protecting the princess against his body.

“Your time to be ruthless arrived.”

Ivar’s men obeyed his gestures, closing the church’s door and carnage took place inside that building. During the entire combat – that ended with the court killed and the crown of her father on the Norsemen’s hands – that princess could see Ubbe protecting her fulltime.  He fought like a beast and because of him, not a single drop of blood stained her white dress. At the end of all that horror, he turned to her and while his brothers came, raised swords to kill her, he stopped them.

“No.” his hand touched her chin and his eyes went to hers once again “I’m a man of word and honor, Y/N. And I promised no one will hurt you from now on. I freed you from your family and this court and I’ll claim this land as mine and to my people. You had the courage to show me the truth and risked your life to be an honored woman. So I think I want to keep my little deal with your father… I’ll become king of these lands. Do you want to be my queen?”

She gave her hand to him and nodded an affirmative answer to that beautiful and strong man who protected her life and saved her from the torments she knew as life. So he extended his hand to his brother and Hvitserk gave him the ring they had prepared for the marriage. And Ubbe stained the ring in the blood on his hands, putting it on her finger and touching her face.

“It’s still our marriage, and I made my sacrifice to the gods.”

“May them bless you with children and frighten the wolf out of your door,” said Hvitserk, smiling playfully, almost laughing at the situation.

But the truth was that it was a hell of a sacrifice. And Ubbe was now kissing his new wife.

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#shoot fiction #imagine #one shoot #ragnarssons #imagine vikings #vikings history #vikings #sister wives #ubbe #ubbabe #ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe lothbrok #ubbe imagine #ubbe x reader #shoot

[newstechreviews]

Arguably—or maybe even inarguably—the spirit of a movie counts more than any objective ideal of quality. You can’t inject a soul into a movie in the editing room; it’s either got one or it doesn’t. There are people who have been waiting nearly 30 years for Bill & Ted Face the Music, the follow-up to Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure (1989) and Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey (1991), and there are people who haven’t been waiting at all. But what people want from Bill & Ted Face the Music matters a lot less than what it actually is, a crazy, imperfect but deeply gratifying burst of optimism at the end of what has been—inarguably—a terrible summer. Its ramshackle earnestness, its certainty about nothing beyond the fact that we need to get our act together as human beings, is its great strength.

Alex Winter and Keanu Reeves were in their mid-twenties when they first played Bill Preston and Ted Logan, a duo of goofy but open-hearted teenage guitar obsessives from San Dimas, Calif., who change the world—and pass a history class—via a time-travel machine disguised as a phone booth. In the first movie, they meet the 15th-century princesses who will become their wives, Joanna and Elizabeth; in the second, they outwit Death in a game of Twister. At the very beginning, they were told that their fairly lame band, Wyld Stallyns, would end up making music so great that it would foster a future utopian society. But as Bill & Ted Face the Music opens, Bill and Ted, well into middle age and still noodling around with their guitars, have not yet produced any game-changing toonz. And although they’re married to their beloved princesses (here played by Erinn Hayes and Jayma Mays), there’s apparently a bit of trouble in suburban paradise: both couples have signed up for couples counseling, and because Bill and Ted can’t envision doing anything independently of one another, they make it a group affair. Their identities are so entwined, even as they push 50, that they haven’t really figured out how to be adults.

Read More: Why It Took Keanu Reeves 30 Years to Become an Overnight Sensation

They and their wives have, however, produced two lovely teenage daughters: Billie (Brigette Lundy-Paine) and Thea (Samara Weaving) are named after their dads, and they take after them, too. Thea has a slouchy gait and a curtain of floppy dark hair; Billie is blond and effervescent, a spring of nervous energy coiled within her. The young women are best friends, just as their dads are. And they’re dismayed when they find out their fathers are in trouble: A messenger from another world, Kelly (Kristen Schaal), touches down in a giant egg to whisk Bill and Ted into what has turned out to be a not-so-utopian future. She’s the daughter of Rufus, the time-traveling emissary played in the earlier movies by the late, great George Carlin (who appears here briefly in hologram form). And it turns out that her mother, Rufus’ widow—played by Holland Taylor in a fabulously imperious sparkle cape—has some dire news for Bill and Ted: because they have not yet produced the song that will change the world, reality as we know it will end in 77 minutes and 25 seconds. Which is pretty much, at that point, the movie’s remaining runtime.

Orion PicturesBrigette Lundy-Paine and Samara Weaving, flanking Kid Cudi, play Bill and Ted’s teenage daughters.

How do they pull it off? The answer involves time travel, of course, but also Jimi Hendrix, Louis Armstrong, a killer robot named Dennis Caleb McCoy, the mythological Chinese flautist Ling Lun, and Death (once again played by the marvelous William Sadler). The princess wives and, especially, Billie and Thea also play key roles: The girls believe so wholeheartedly in their dads, including their not-quite-proven ability to make music, that they jump in to help, proving that the next generation is ready and able to take the reins.

Bill & Ted Face the Music is a cosmic swirl of a movie, as unapologetically ridiculous as its predecessors were. The script is by Chris Matheson and Ed Solomon, who wrote the two earlier movies and created the characters of Bill and Ted; the scenarios they’ve cooked up here grow more outlandish by the minute, which is part of the fun. The director is Dean Parisot, and what he, his writers and his actors have pulled off here is so positively nutso, and so sweet-spirited, that he deserves his own statue in a utopian movie future. Parisot also directed the extraordinary 1999 science-fiction/fantasy spoof Galaxy Quest, which has become a cult classic for a reason. Bill & Ted Face the Music doesn’t have the same glorious comedic ebb and flow of that film, though it does have a similarly generous beating heart.

Orion PicturesWilliam Sadler plays Death.

And that, again, is something no movie can fake. The Bill & Ted movies, including this one, work because Winter and Reeves have always taken these not-very-serious characters seriously. As teenagers, Bill and Ted were daffy and joyous, innocently horny but also unfailingly gallant, kind of dumb but intuitive in all the ways that count. Winter’s Bill still has that goofball electric energy; Reeves’ Ted is more laid back, and more philosophical. Yet there’s something piercing about seeing them now as middle-aged guys who haven’t been able to pull off everything they once dreamed of—they’ve aged well, physically, but even so, their zest for life has flagged. It happens to almost everyone.

Still, things could be worse. The plot of Bill & Ted Face the Music introduces us to future would-be versions of Bill and Ted who aren’t quite so nice: In one scene, they’re bulked-up prison inmates, tattooed and pissed off; in another, they’re paunchy rock stars who have adopted phony, Madonna-style British accents. These sour versions of Bill and Ted are so implausible that they’re hilarious—Winter and Reeves run with them, delight in them. The time-travel conceit of Bill & Ted Face the Music allows these characters to reflect on a lesser reality that might have been, had they and their families not intervened. And they shape the future by remembering the contributions of those who made the best of the past. Bill & Ted Face the Music is the feel-good movie of this infinite time loop, and the next. And although it’s pure fantasy, it also represents a leap of faith we all have to be willing to take. Even without time-travel phone booths, people have the power.

#Blogger

[lya-dustin]

All is bliss

Chapter 13

Taglist: @mercedesdecorazon @sweethoneyblossom1 @darylandbethfanforever9

Gif by: @harperstern

More than expected show.

Jena Wylde is purposely detained so she is the last to arrive and the first to leave.

Men are welcome to come and most show upon hearing the king himself has decided to see what had Aemma planned.

Aemma had only gone to see him --- the queen refuses to admit her into his rooms without her for fear of what she could do and say--- to invite Alicent to it knowing she couldn’t refuse.

He had laughed and then coughed while Alicent chastised her for her pettiness and then asked Maester Gerardys whether he some fresh air would do him some good.

Gerardys had been horrified to learn that the king had been confined to his bed since he his knees went bad.

Grand Maester Orwyle was not too old to be given a dressing down, grandfather had laughed again when told he could leave his prison.

“The fabric looks familiar, nice choice of colors, dear wife.” Aegon comments as he is forced to stand beside her as ordered by his mother. “Where have I seen it before?”

“I’m sure it will come to you, dear husband.” Aemma shrugged and played coy.

Aegon was oddly pleasant, but it was Aemond who she’d rather share this moment with.

Aemond who’s eye she can feel on her burning with jealousy, want and everything they aren’t supposed to feel for each other.

Last time they made love in his bed, he’d tied her to it and had her screaming until she was hoarse.

Gods, she cannot wait for tonight.

“I don’t like how is staring at you.” Aegon throws quick look over his shoulder to his brother and looks ,dare she say it, jealous.

“Is that jealousy I hear in your voice, dear Aegon?” Aemma doesn’t hesitate to mock him about it.

“So what if I am, you are my wife, he is merely the man to seed you for me.” He answered letting his irritation show as he nurses it with the light wines she chose for today. “You mean to torture me with weak wine and he by existing, what else do you have planned, oh Pearl of Dragonstone?”

“Nothing else, after tomorrow our marriage will be over and we will go our separate ways. Perhaps we may even become friends.”

Aemma tries not to grin when she sees Lady Jena come with the dress that matched the tent, the chairs , the table runners and even the new cushions on the couches.

The whispers start first, just as she comes in wearing black and gold pin stripes with gauzy pale gold fabric in her sleeves.

Even the gold work on the stomacher and sleeves was replicated with the precision of a barber surgeon.

“Oh, dear me, you blend right in with the furniture, Lady Jena.” Aemma said with a false sweetness that earned some laughter from her friends.

After all who wouldn’t join the king and his family in their mirth?

From this she won’t recover from.

Don’t fuck with me, Aemma says with a giggle and raised her glass of Arbor Gold.

Jena Wylde finding herself humiliated before her friends, allies and even the king himself, walks away in furious tears.

The girl looks very pleased with herself as the merriment continued.

Some play croquet in the lawns, children run and play with a ball, people enjoy themselves in the shade or in the sun.

A good event, a triumph for the hostess in more ways than one.

“You are finding your footing here, gooddaughter.” The queen comments with a nod as they enjoy seasonal fruits and peach wine.

“Silverwing may be the most docile of the dragons, but she is a dragon nonetheless.

I merely reminded her not to forget I am a dragon.” Aemma answered.

Dragons share the temperaments of their riders, part of the spiritual bond between human and beast, or so Alicent has heard a thousand times.

Silverwing, while meek as a lamb, had her moments. Push her too far and you find yourself meeting the gods dressed in silver blue flames.

“I will remember that,” The queen says in acknowledgement.

“I doubt the court will forget anytime soon. Especially when I become queen.” The girl takes a bite of the strawberry on her plate, and turns to steal a look at Aemond who speaks quietly to his father and meets her eyes for the briefest of moments.

As fleeting as the look is it tells her exactly what has been dreading since she learned Aemond was her lover.

They have fallen in love with each other.

Just as Harwin and Rhaenyra had when the first of the bastards was born.

“We wish to marry once it is acceptable to do so. If any child was conceived during this time, we want him to be born on the right side of the blanket, so to speak.” Aemma whispered quietly full of hope.

Hope that will be dashed to pieces in the coming days.

If there is a child, it will be Aegon’s.

Alicent prays it is a son.

Easier to end things now before it becomes an even worse problem.

“Any way you turn it, she ends up queen.” Vaemond whispers thinking his family will forgive him should he live. “It is her birthright, just as it had been Laenor’s.”

“She won’t forgive you. She may ask them to spare you, but it will be sans tongue.” Teora pursed her lips knowing he knew it too.

There is mercy and there is justice.

Aemma knows one has to strive for both as queen.

Vaemond would die tomorrow, whether by a green or a black hand.

Had Aegon been capable of siring a child, he would have stood a chance.

Now that they must protect Rhaenyra’s sons to protect Aemma’s, they will have to turn against him.

Vaemond will die unless Aemma moves them to mercy.

“I will not let a bastard inherit what is mine by rights.” He remained as stubborn as ever.

“A bastard will inherit the Throne either way, the Greens will not let you win your case, brother.” The Septa argued.

“I thought you shared the girl’s hopes for an annulment, dear sister.” He comments giving a smile to his youngest son who is absolutely besotted with his wife and child to remove suspicions from them.

“As much as it would gladden my heart to see her happy with the father of her children, I know only death will put an end to their marriage.” Teora admits with a sad sigh.

Hope kept her former charge happy, gods know the High Septon’s decision will dash it to the seventh hell.

“Aenys would be a good name for their firstborn.”

#aemma velaryon #aemond targaryen x velaryon!oc #all is bliss fic #aemond x ofc #aegon ii x oc x aemond #aegon ii x oc #ocappreciationtag

[thefreshfinds]

Ryck Jane:

As the golden era of hip-hop resurfaces with feminine power, Ryck Jane prevails in a similar fashion.

Though the queen is sweet like chocolate & scary as an apocalypse you can’t help but to be convinced!

Emulating a trumpet — she blares with passion. Yet the bonafide declaration is heard in her rhymes.

‘Tween her intricate metaphors, drive & bouncy floetry, the influencer has it down pat.

With this in mind — Ryck Jane is deliberate to smooth out the competition.

Currently residing in California, Ryck Jane started off with coaxing a row white keys with grace. Once she started high school though, her instrument of choice changed. “I just picked up the trumpet & never looked back” Ryck says.

In pursuit, Ryck Jane then joined forces with a hip-hop/rock band called Wylde Bunch, carrying over 20 years under her belt.

Then in 2014 she decided that it was her time to start writing self-written music. Nothing could measure the amazing journey that lied ahead for Ryck as a solo artist. As mentioned by the queen herself in her song Raise The Bar, “Ain’t lying/ I be wrecking all the time/Check my record/I be wrecking each line/break records/i'm reckless/I'm the top of my kind/they blinded by the shine, Jane can't be denied!”

Music for Ryck Jane is like “the vessel that connects us all in ways we probably wouldn't connect in normal circumstances.” It is her gift to the world & one thing she plans to leave behind. Ultimately, Ryck plans on being a legend. “The main difference between me & other artist is that I play the trumpet, rap, sing & dance.” she adds “Some would say I am a complete entertainer who can do it all. Most artist can only do 1 or 2 things.”

By the same token Ryck wants the listeners to gain honesty from her music. She wants people to feel good when they hear the music & when the beat comes on. “There aren't many recognized female artists (rapper) in the industry, so I need to make a positive impact although it would be really dope if the few women in hip-hop were actually close & got along and did collabs together. I'm inspired by those individuals who don’t/didn’t take NO for an answer. Those who fought the system & circumstances to get ahead in life & stand where they are today. And with focus & hard work, they overcome any boundaries they were faced with. This applies to those in music, film, tv & even in everyday life.”

Hence — Ryck Jane wants all of you (ALL OF YOU) to quit thinking that some rap is old school. “Hip Hop is the only genre that has an old school category. Rock & Country music don't have this. The Rolling Stones aren't considered old school artist. In Hip-Hop, it's as if music from the past isn't good anymore. Alot of new artist have no idea who legendary hip hop artist were before they were here.”

Moving forward you should expect Ryck Jane to win a couple of Grammy awards for best new artist & record of the year. She will also have songs placed on 2 major blockbuster movies, TV series, commercials & headlining her own show in front of sold out crowds (with a possible collab. Hello SiR? Are you around?) “I love his tone, voice & his soulful style of music.” she gushes “The first time I heard his [SiR] EP- Seven Sundays, I fell in love.”

But this year Ryck Jane’s ultimate goal is to open up for Anderson Paak because she thinks their styles go hand-in-hand.

And that is something I have no doubt in.

After all, Ryck Jane is fearless has a voice that breaks through.

Just like a trumpet, her talent will signal off a forewarning.

By: Natalee Gilbert

LINK(S):

1. Instagram : @ryckjane

2. Soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/ryckjane

3. Spotify & YouTube : “Ryck Jane”

#soundcloud #freshfinds #music #rap #musicblog #listen #banger #musicians #hip hop #follow #thefreshfinds #ryckjane #femceenation #femcee #femaleicon #artistreviews #rappersdelite #musicwithmeaning #cali #indiemusic #rocknroll #trumpets

[moonlit-grove]

Gimme all answers to the cute commander asks for Madame 🍍, I dare you!!!

i mean i'm pretty sure i've answered them all for zhaleh so >:3c ailbhe time

fun fact: she's called a pineapple because that's how she tastes when smooched

1. Do they sleep with stuffed animals?

If she doesn't have a beloved to hold and she's in an unknown place, yes. She has a stuffed fish that Dagonet got for her when he noticed how stressed she was during her first visit to DR. She gets stressed and scared if she's sleeping in a new place, the stuffed fish calms her.

2. How do they like their coffee?

Iced, and very sweet and creamy. She likes cold drinks.

3. What’s their favorite dessert?

Cookies! Especially snickerdoodles!

4. What was their favorite bedtime story?

She didn't get to hear bedtime stories when she was a sapling. There wasn't any time, nor did Sylvari... have any.

But now that she's older and traveled, she enjoys some norn tales. One of her favorites is the story of a child getting lost and found by a pack of wolves, who raised him, and eventually, they were reunited with norn people.

5. Big spoon or little spoon?

She's tol, she's often the big spoon. But she does like to be held sometimes.

6. What’s their ideal date like?

Standing on a balcony overlooking what's below, talking and enjoying spending time together. Bonus if they're sneaking off from a party.

7. Do they daydream? If so, about what?

She doesn't often have time, but she sometimes daydreams of her beloveds and the time they've spent together. Sometimes even getting Sieran to dress up and surprise their dear pear.

8. Do they see shapes in the clouds?

Yes! She loves cloudgazing!

9. Do they prefer rainy weather or sunny weather?

Gently sunny, not too hot. A few clouds scattering the sky and the smell of rain in the air.

10. Do they like going to the beach?

She's not really a beach sylvari. She'll go if she has to, but she prefers... Pretty much anywhere else. Creeks at night? Sign her up!

11. What was the last party they attended?

A celebration in the Reach, she was called to attend and happily dressed up. She had fun, she loves attending and mingling. She even got to dance with the Queen!

12. What’s their favorite drink?

Fruity drinks and nectar from the Starbower Nursery are still her favorites. They taste like home. Bonus if there's a mango or pear flavor.

13. Do they like flowers?

Oh yes, very much! She loves flowers, she loves using faux flowers to add color to her clothes. She knows the language of flowers, she knows very well what she's doing when she sends a bouquet to someone.

14. What’s their favorite holiday?

Dragon Bash. She can let loose from being the formal ambassador and... Remind people why she's usually in heavy armor. She is the ambassador, but she's also a Herald. She helped kill Mordremoth. She's not just a pretty wallflower.

15. Do they collect anything?

Ohhh yes, she loves fancy dresses. She has a walk-in closet full of dresses. They're all colors and shapes. And a few of different sizes for her beloveds. She loves them so much.

16. Do they prefer to read or write?

Write! She loves writing fancy, or direct, or whatever the letter calls for! She loves how she can make her feelings as hidden as she wants when she writes, imagining the reactions of the recipient.

17. What do they do on their days off?

Her rare days off are spent on walks. Just enjoying her time. Sometimes on an adventure with Sieran, if the magister can pull her away.

18. Do they like to dance?

Oh yes, very much. She especially loves the ballroom dances of human society, but she is skilled at the coordinated, loud dances of Charr, and the high-energy dances of the Norn.

19. Are they any good at dancing?

Yes! She's very good at dancing and a quick learner of how new dances go!

20. What’s their happiest memory?

Returning from fulfilling her Wyld Hunt, seeing the relief on the faces of her people, seeing calm over them... Knowing nothing would take over their minds again. Her Hunt was one thing, but the effects were so much better...

#ailbhe cuana #gw2 #ask game

[glopratchet]

astryl-wondering

am that is attached to the conciousness of astryl wylde, with his sword drawn and he says "I will not leave you again! and covered in blood and he has no idea what happened except that the angel was a demon as he says 'aargh me had the vilest and foulest cravings of alcohol a few minnites ago and just now meat these subconscious trigger nightmares it was attacked by a wild cat that got inside because of the ripped stitches a nivorite sword that glows with enchantment lays by the entrance and the succubus queen lays torn in half with her wings burned off, "You sure you don't want an explanation about what the hell just happened? in descant ; (we see them above in space, with hearts of flames and they sing in harmony, almost looking like sirens leading sailors to watery graves) for this game and it is important for knowing when to take a break "No thanks, that's quite alright He says as his skin turns an unhealthy green tinged white it is just desert and dying landscape, however a blue hex Designated as "The blackweb" Nearby attracts attention over the past few days for listening to his tulpas, he goes west towards it of not preparing better for fights " What mistakes have you made recently? Looking back on the situation Not being prepared for the demon, as he got lazy with his unity of thoughts and seeing them as beneath him Already regrets for what he said to Meliodas, and no doubt the demon is planning revenge Shutting up the demon, he notices an element of demotivation that has infultrated his followers and displays something reminescent of his old self Astryl tries to remind himself before it all fades away life to the fullest and that phrase inspires him Of course he does not have facial hair but something about these memories seems somewhat real Astryl keeps trying to remember why he decided to devolve himself into these poor acts of debauchery and displays something reminescent of his old self It is foggy but he remembers some fella with nice facial hair mentioning the words live life to the fullest and that phrase inspires him in his eyes and he sees that from the disaster of today, only the center of the storm is as hot as it should be A weather readout finally comes back up in his eyes and he sees that from the disaster of today, soon if he does not get out of here Getting out of here He will finds himself in some dust storm soon if he does not get out of here 's information section From what the readout says, it has been here longer than the storm! much longer! There seems to be some kind of corrupting computer virus that has been feasting on the bits of cludstrum's information section and they are known for hiding out in any dying storm, then expanding from it as it consumes more landscape and mutating with the new intruding elements The creautures feasting on the being of astryl are know as slender smooth hounds and they are known for hiding out in any dying storm, when you try to make an action Both he and the computer are beoging to connect when all this started! The appear out the corners of the screen and gobble up parts of the interface or make the symbols go wacky when you try to make an action Keeps fading in and out as you try to think You finally lose all focus and the two minds engaging one another shut down out of the dozens of a person called alice? A list of contacts comes back on but only one mention can be deciphered out of the dozens of a person called as forms blood red with strange slashes through them All the other contacts seem to squeeked out and are unintelligible as forms blood red with strange slashes through them gibberish really but the gray dots and lines below it remind you of Pre-fall language lessons and you get some meaning from it The name on the contact list is cylopiean anglyphs, right now! Who is this alice you think? But the conditions are not right to travel and see him right now! but all his memory units seems to be intact, you can visit his dreams but it will be senseless dream imagery most likely Cludstrum states that qefizat clencher is going to take a little while to get back online but all his memory units seems to be intact, and the sky is thick with clouds Only then will the qefizat clencher work when it is slightly raining outside and the sky is thick with clouds if you interact but you can ask cludstrum abou tmore regarding his situation The ui will break intermently if you interact but you can ask cludstrum abou tmore regarding his situation he is used to it and they can't be fixed Parts of the displays called mirrors will go on and off line for the duration of the expierence, --astryls system damage will grow and he will suffer from or enjoy fragmented dreams that cause reality lines to interfer A flickering light causes an illusion of flying Untill the code corruption is sealed off and deleted and all the slender smooth hound stds are destroyed --astryls system damage will grow and he will suffer from or enjoy fragmented dreams that cause reality lines to interfer for this text, think the table legs mixed with memories and a lot of confusion How this is achieved is a mystery for this text, the problem is consumable resources are very limited in the sandcity since their arrival Down at the airfield there should be some growing wild, only thus will Cludstrum states that he will need some cucumber to fix some of the issues, if he keep paralizing himself into dreaming impossible dreams he decide if the disturbances to his mind are worth the small chance of maybe finding something Astryl considers the fact that he might be thirsty and hungry if he keep paralizing himself into dreaming impossible dreams The plover on his earth simile seems to shake it's head, looking worried for astryl waaagh! nonsense But why would an immortal have need for water or food? or what it even means In order to this the currency exchange must be debugged or astryl does not now what this stuff does or what it even means at the idclip vending machine 's life as thing start to go wrong You hear him yelling but don't comprehend it at first that look like numbers in his sleep, large number of the same food will increase their effects But something is really happening to mentally unravel astryl net --------------- Connecting to mindworlds Connect http: ---- mindworlds net: connected since his cells will automatically regenerate Maybe the palm sized gray orb that fell out of the monster could be eaten, clud was already studying it for shattersouls research in his fists, seemingly random WATCH OUT PUNCHBUGGWOEF! clud studies the log beside clud's left monitor he watches the numbers pour past showing all the memory units that clud has hooked up for him slices that can give some scraps of him to increase system resource so he can graze there later with less penalty Perhaps there are ruins nearby to look for canned food or some such meal there is some sand too but it went down badly last time What should he eat then, scroll Clud seems to be cooing at his monitors as messages appear on them of cyerspace trying to find structure before his searches lead him to the reality of things the world Stupid Blablabla MIND, stupid stupid mind an unseen sinkhole, how deep will astryl plummet? Will the answer await at the bottom? the ruins of the darkwebsite, an offline webpage the astryl used to frequent Let us see if he can uncover some history a cafe that sells coffee and cake to astryl astryl can see an oasis nearby he finds a welcome mat and black slipwashes leading up a very creepy pathway to a doorbell which plays the weirdest thing he has ever heard when pressed there must be some sort of city around this thing chest smacks his jaw into the datatiles, a bunch of information about maintenance concerns that he already knew seems to content just before another file reaches the top rams its keyhole and rotates to the right Two cactii guard the door out inside is congested with a wall of safes The windows are very high, he will not be able to break and enter that way wildly with glee "I'm in a glee, GEEGE! " the tent exclaims in its deepest voice out of his way You swerve your poland launcher and puke some shrapnel into him "His eel is fierce, Garth" under the beige table from the shattered table The guy with scar over his eye crinkles his brow, "Who the sweet mountain are you? "Nobody of consequence" away in the glossy page The kids are swarming all over you now and you cant get out of this predicament the juggernaut's attention You will find a secluded spot called "BLamber" Now you are saved; let us sleep together his juju and laying down some fix There's mass hysteria here as people celebrate chasing back the wasteland through the septic tank It's raining men! No y what? a doppelganger to kill claudius "Over the lab table, dear" himself to calm the nerves The sewers drain into an old abandoned factory with wilders bonkers for population programming a doppelganger to kill claudius behind a broken ferris wheel Kludstrm postponed using doppelganger assassins on claudius the needle into his neck It's very crowded down here, and you couldn't care less about these stuff anyway intelligent life signs in sewer tunnels You shove a pole through his stomach Kludstrm alternating removing your heat signatures from the facility map Hiding is not a fun game when the other person enjoys it more than you do an itch on his shoulder nearby your biological stats to ferric He begins slicing at your nerves and internal organs Why is everyone so obsessed with killing? an argument on izon and closing his eyes The juggernaut is oblivious of the scheme transpiring there his blind eyes with your blood His high priests' reptilian eyes scan you up and down They start buzzing in Church Latin about tangerines Kludstrm zany ripping it apart with glee Glistening, woven metal, plastic and insulation access to the trash compactor room "The plans don't specify traps, right? after ages of freefall The whirring eventually ends with a slight tremor out of the corner of his mouth Kludstrm ghastly winking at you dismissively into the sunlight Are you out of your mind? He's two feet away from us! with sonnenbrand afterglow A knife needs "Let us abandon these clumsy disguises" he whispers slash oxygen using a simple PLANT Kludstrm dull striking with his wrench A vivid image of children drowning in space out hostile forces nearby Silvery beads of sweat plummet down your neck You need a hug, Grandma Company about the potential hostile He punches you, the slug grazing your skull Kludstrm grateful wordprocessing teaching metalworkers to build robots for batteries Kludstrm reasonable storing children's brain waves patterns Can't talk now, you'll die! We're being shot at! the schemata of certain personnel It seems like Klud is trying to tell you something on some cardboard with rainwater Kludstrm indecipherable cleaning the drainage channel of plogiston on doritos Kludstrm silly combating the hostile with what you got Some excessive body heat and an empty flask of fire cusvith with pheromones You're burnt horribly horribly enough to see your skin melt away! You can finally see inside the building, all thanks to izon security Everywhere you look are bunks and machinery your wages on a cryogenesis pill But there are guards every five feet? You hear izonian screams of terror! for her servant? Kludstrm traditional popping a pill and hibernating till the good ol'days beyond the horizon monsters and plants from other dimensions Kludstrm aventine doing Klud's yearly job of hunting roo from you mind A toothless housewife asks people to leave herself and her husband alone You see bootprints going inside like a fairy tale city Their armor may be polished using any available reflecting material, under a full moon The city of beetriot distaff wantonly displaying your tragic DNA matches A riot? for shady murderers The city of beetriot bent looking like a cascading waterfall covered in homes and leave the bootprints untended? and end up making many different footprints even if you stick to unguarded exits? The city of beetriot competent being a haven for the criminal underworld or just an ex-convict trying to stay on the right side of the law? You can't breathe! You're being smothered or drowned You gasp for air, those years of prison definitely caused your diving abilities to lessen they might be gone all together, actually

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We are celebrating the release of 5 amazing bundles (20-24) from 1001 Dark Nights! Each bundle features novellas from 4 bestselling authors. The bundles released today, and you can grab your copies by going to the links below. Check out the book trailer for the bundles!   1001 Dark Nights Bundle 20 Featuring: Rebecca Zanetti, Kristen Ashley, Larissa Ione, and Laura Kaye About this Bundle: From New York Times and USA Today bestselling authors Rebecca Zanetti, Kristen Ashley, Larissa Ione, and Laura Kaye. Four Dark Tales. Four Sensual Stories. Four Page Turners. BLAZE ERUPTING: Scorpius Syndrome/A Brigade Novella by Rebecca Zanetti Hugh Johnson is nobody’s hero, and the idea of being in the limelight makes him want to growl. He takes care of his brothers, does his job, and enjoys a mellow evening hanging with his hound dog and watching the sports channel. So when sweet and sexy Ellie Smithers from his college chemistry class asks him to save millions of people from a nuclear meltdown, he doggedly steps forward while telling himself that the world hasn’t changed and he can go back to his relaxing life. One look at Ellie and excitement doesn’t seem so bad. ROUGH RIDE: A Chaos Novella by Kristen Ashley Rosalie Holloway put it all on the line for the Chaos Motorcycle Club. Informing to Chaos on their rival club—her man’s club, Bounty—Rosalie knows the stakes. And she pays them when her man, who she was hoping to scare straight, finds out she’s betrayed him and he delivers her to his brothers to mete out their form of justice. But really, Rosie has long been denying that, as she drifted away from her Bounty, she’s been falling in love with Everett “Snapper” Kavanagh, a Chaos brother. Snap is the biker-boy-next door with the snowy blue eyes, quiet confidence and sweet disposition who was supposed to keep her safe…and fell down on that job. HAWKYN: A Demonica Novella by Larissa Ione As a special class of earthbound guardian angel called Memitim, Hawkyn is charged with protecting those whose lives are woven into the fabric of the future. His success is legendary, so when he’s given a serial killer to watch over, he sees no reason for that to change. But Hawkyn’s own future is jeopardized after he breaks the rules and rescues a beautiful woman from the killer’s clutches, setting off an explosive, demonic game of cat and mouse that pits brother against brother and that won’t end until someone dies. RIDE DIRTY: A Raven Riders Novella by Laura Kaye Caine McKannon is all about rules. As the Raven Riders’ Sergeant-at-Arms, he prizes loyalty to his brothers and protection of his club. As a man, he takes pleasure wherever he can get it but allows no one close—because distance is the only way to ensure people can’t hurt you. And he’s had enough pain for a lifetime. Kids and school are kindergarten teacher Emma Kerry’s whole life, so she’s stunned to realize she has an enemy—and even more surprised to find a protector in the intimidating man who saved her. Tall, dark, and tattooed, Caine is unlike any man Emma’s ever known, and she’s as uncertain of him as she is attracted. Every Dark Nights tale is breathtakingly sexy and magically romantic.   Purchase your copy of BUNDLE 20 today! Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | Amazon AU Check out the authors: Rebecca Zanetti | Kristen Ashley | Larissa Ione | Laura Kaye ------------------- 1001 Dark Nights Bundle 21 Featuring: Joanna Wylde, Jennifer Probst, Elisabeth Naughton, and Carrie Ann Ryan About this Bundle: From New York Times and USA Today bestselling authors Joanna Wylde, Jennifer Probst, Elisabeth Naughton, and Carrie Ann Ryan. Four Dark Tales. Four Sensual Stories. Four Page Turners. ROME’S CHANCE: A Reapers MC Novella by Joanna Wylde Rome McGuire knew he was in trouble the first time he saw her. She was sweet and pretty and just about perfect in every way. Randi Whittaker was also too young and innocent for the Reapers Motorcycle Club. He did the right thing, and walked away. The second time, he couldn’t resist tasting her. Walking away wasn’t so easy that time, but her family needed her and he had a job to do. When she came around a third time, he’d had enough. Randi had been given two chances to escape, and now it was time for Rome to take his. THE MARRIAGE ARRANGEMENT: A Marriage to a Billionaire Novella by Jennifer Probst Caterina Victoria Windsor fled her family winery after a humiliating broken engagement, and spent the past year in Italy rebuilding her world. But when Ripley Savage shows up with a plan to bring her back home, and an outrageous demand for her to marry him, she has no choice but to return to face her past. But when simple attraction begins to run deeper, Cat has to decide if she’s strong enough to trust again…and strong enough to stay… SURRENDER: A House of Sin Novella by Elisabeth Naughton The leaders of my House want her dead. The men I’ve secretly aligned myself with want her punished for screwing up their coup. I’ve been sent by both to deal with her, but one look at the feisty redhead and I’ve got plans of my own. Before I carry out anyone else’s orders, she’s going to give me what I want. And only when I’m satisfied will I decide if she lives or dies. Depending, of course, on just how easily she surrenders... INKED NIGHTS: A Montgomery Ink Novella by Carrie Ann Ryan Tattoo artist, Derek Hawkins knows the rules: One night a month. No last names. No promises. Olivia Madison has her own rules: Don’t fall in love. No commitment. Never tell Derek the truth. When their worlds crash into each other however, Derek and Olivia will have to face what they fought to ignore as well as the connection they tried to forget. Every Dark Nights tale is breathtakingly sexy and magically romantic. Purchase your copy of BUNDLE 21 today! Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | Amazon AU Check out the authors: Joanna Wylde | Jennifer Probst | Elisabeth Naughton | Carrie Ann Ryan ------------------- 1001 Dark Nights Bundle 22 Featuring: Rachel Van Dyken, Lexi Blake, Jennifer L. Armentrout, and J. Kenner About this Bundle: From New York Times and USA Today bestselling authors Rachel Van Dyken, Lexi Blake, Jennifer L. Armentrout, and J. Kenner. Four Dark Tales. Four Sensual Stories. Four Page Turners. ENVY: An Eagle Elite Novella by Rachel Van Dyken Every family has rules, the mafia just has more.... Do not speak to the bosses unless spoken to. Do not make eye contact unless you want to die. And above all else, do not fall in love. Renee Cassani's future is set. Her betrothal is set. Her life, after nannying for the five families for the summer, is set. Somebody should have told Vic Colezan that. He's a man who doesn't take no for an answer. And he only wants one thing. Her. Somebody should have told Renee that her bodyguard needed as much discipline as the kids she was nannying. Good thing Vic has a firm hand. PROTECTED: A Masters and Mercenaries Novella by Lexi Blake Years before, Wade Rycroft fell in love with Geneva Harris, the smartest girl in his class. The rodeo star and the shy academic made for an odd pair but their chemistry was undeniable. They made plans to get married after high school but when Genny left him standing in the rain, he joined the Army and vowed to leave that life behind. Genny married the town’s golden boy, and Wade knew that he couldn’t go home again. Fifteen years later, Wade returns to his Texas hometown for his brother’s wedding and walks into a storm of scandal. Genny’s marriage has dissolved and the town has turned against her. But when someone tries to kill his old love, Wade can’t refuse to help her. THE PRINCE: A Wicked Novella by Jennifer L. Armentrout Cold. Heartless. Deadly. Whispers of his name alone bring fear to fae and mortals alike. The Prince. There is nothing in the mortal world more dangerous than him. Haunted by a past he couldn’t control, all Caden desires is revenge against those who’d wronged him, trapping him in never-ending nightmare. And there is one person he knows can help him. Raised within the Order, Brighton Jussier knows just how dangerous the Prince is, reformed or not. She’d seen firsthand what atrocities he could be capable of. The last thing she wants to do is help him, but he leaves her little choice. Forced to work alongside him, she begins to see the man under the bitter ice. Yearning for him feels like the definition of insanity, but there’s no denying the heat in his touch and the wicked promise is his stare. PLEASE ME: A Stark Ever After Novella by Julie Kenner Each day with Damien is a miracle, each moment with our children a gift. And yet I cannot escape the growing sense that a storm is gathering, threatening to pull me away, to rip us apart. To drag me down, once again, into a darkness to which I swore never to return. I have to fight it—I know that. And I am waging the battle with of all my heart. But it is Damien who is my strength, and we both know that the only way to push away the darkness is for him to fold me in his arms and claim me completely. And for me to surrender myself, once again, to the fire that burns between us. Every Dark Nights tale is breathtakingly sexy and magically romantic.   Purchase your copy of BUNDLE 22 today! Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | Amazon AU Check out the authors: Rachel Van Dyken | Lexi Blake | Jennifer L. Armentrout | J. Kenner -------------------   1001 Dark Nights Bundle 23 Featuring: Lorelei James, Kylie Scott, Donna Grant, and Kristen Proby About this Bundle: From New York Times and USA Today bestselling authors Lorelei James, Kylie Scott, Donna Grant, and Kristen Proby. Four Dark Tales. Four Sensual Stories. Four Page Turners. WOUND TIGHT: A Rough Riders/Blacktop Cowboys® Crossover by Lorelei James Bull rider Justin Donohue spent his youth hell-bent on winning world championships. After hitting the big 4-0, Justin takes a job at the Grade A Ranch and Rodeo School, where he immediately locks horns (and lips) with the sexy, sassy Callie—a 22-year-old cowgirl set on seducing him. From the moment Callie Morgan encounters the hot-as-fire new ranch hand, she knows his gruff manner is an attempt to mask his attraction to her. But she’s never backed down from a challenge, especially not when Justin’s actions speak louder than his denials. STRONG: A Stage Dive Novella by Kylie Scott As head of security to Stage Dive, one of the biggest rock bands in the world, Sam Knowles has plenty of experience dealing with trouble. But spoilt brat Martha Nicholson just might be the worst thing he’s ever encountered. The beautiful troublemaker claims to have reformed, but Sam knows better than to think with what’s in his pants. Unfortunately, it’s not so easy to make his heart fall into line. DRAGON NIGHT: A Dark Kings Novella by Donna Grant There has never been a hunt that Dorian has lost. With his sights set on a relic the Dragon Kings need to battle an ancient foe, he won’t let anything stand in his way – especially not the beautiful owner. Alexandra Sheridan is smart and cautious. Yet the attraction between them is impossible to deny – or ignore. But is it a road Dorian dares to travel down again? TEMPTING BROOKE: A Big Sky Novella by Kristen Proby Brooke’s Blooms has taken Cunningham Falls by surprise. This store is Brooke Henderson’s deepest joy, and it means everything to her, which shows in how completely she and her little shop have been embraced by the small community of Cunningham Falls. So, when her landlord dies and Brody Chabot saunters through her door, announcing that the building has been sold, and will soon be demolished, Brooke knows that she’s in for the fight of her life. But she hasn’t gotten this far by sitting back and quietly doing what she’s told. Brooke has no intention of losing this fight, no matter how tempting Brody’s smile -- and body -- is. Every Dark Nights tale is breathtakingly sexy and magically romantic. Purchase your copy of BUNDLE 23 today! Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | Amazon AU Check out the authors: Lorelei James | Kylie Scott | Donna Grant | Kristen Proby ------------------- 1001 Dark Nights Bundle 24 Featuring: Heather Graham, K. Bromberg, Kendall Ryan, and Gena Showalter About this Bundle: From New York Times and USA Today bestselling authors Heather Graham, K. Bromberg, Kendall Ryan, and Gena Showalter. Four Dark Tales. Four Sensual Stories. Four Page Turners. HAUNTED BE THE HOLIDAYS: A Krewe of Hunters Novella by Heather Graham It’s Halloween at the Global Tower Theatre, a fantastic and historic theater owned by Adam Harrison and run by spouses of Krewe members. During a special performance, a strange actor makes an appearance in the middle of the show, warning of dire events if his murder is not solved before another holiday rolls around. Dakota McCoy and Brodie McFadden dive into the mystery. Both have a special talent for dealing with ghosts, but this one is proving elusive. With the help of Brodie’s diva mother and his ever-patient father—who were killed together when a stage chandelier fell upon them—Dakota and Brodie set out to solve the case. If they can't solve the murder quickly, there will be no Thanksgiving for the Krewe... CONTROL: An Everyday Heroes Novella by K. Bromberg Control is something Desi Whitman abhors. Why live life in black and white perfection when you can messily color outside the lines? But when she comes face to face with SWAT officer Reznor Mayne, he’s about to show her just how good control can feel. HUNKY HEARTBREAKERS: A Whiskey Kisses Novella by Kendall Ryan Everything’s bigger in Texas. And that includes Duke Wilder’s sexual appetite. Together with his twin brother, he runs a whiskey distillery, and when their business takes off—suddenly he’s got it all. Success. Money. Family. But he doesn’t have a woman to share it with. When Valentina storms into his life, her presence is only supposed to be temporary. She’s a feisty attorney hired to help clean up his company’s recent legal mess. He never counted on her being the one to turn his whole world upside down. THE DARKEST CAPTIVE: A Lords of the Underworld Novella by Gena Showalter For centuries, Galen the Treacherous has been the most hated immortal in the Underworld. Possessed by the demons of Jealousy and False Hope, he has always lived for a single purpose: destroy everything. Then he met her. Former demon turned human femme fatale — Legion Honey -- sought to kill Galen, but ended up parting with her virginity instead. Afraid of their sizzling connection, she ran away…and ended up trapped in hell, tortured and abused in the worst of ways. Now she’s free, and a shell of herself, afraid of her own shadow. Galen's hunger for Legion has only grown. Now the warrior with nothing to lose must help her rekindle the fire that once burned inside her. Every Dark Nights tale is breathtakingly sexy and magically romantic.   Purchase your copy of BUNDLE 24 today! Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | Amazon AU Check out the authors: Heather Graham | K. Bromberg | Kendall Ryan | Gena Showalter WATCH THE TRAILER  

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Catelyn

It was full dark before they found the village. Catelyn found herself wondering if the place had a name. If so, its people had taken that knowledge with them when they fled, along with all they owned, down to the candles in the sept. Ser Wendel lit a torch and led her through the low door.

Within, the seven walls were cracked and crooked. God is one, Septon Osmynd had taught her when she was a girl, with seven aspects, as the sept is a single building, with seven walls. The wealthy septs of the cities had statues of the Seven and an altar to each. In Winterfell, Septon Chayle hung carved masks from each wall. Here Catelyn found only rough charcoal drawings. Ser Wendel set the torch in a sconce near the door, and left to wait outside with Robar Royce.

Catelyn studied the faces. The Father was bearded, as ever. The Mother smiled, loving and protective. The Warrior had his sword sketched in beneath his face, the Smith his hammer. The Maid was beautiful, the Crone wizened and wise.

And the seventh face . . . the Stranger was neither male nor female, yet both, ever the outcast, the wanderer from far places, less and more than human, unknown and unknowable. Here the face was a black oval, a shadow with stars for eyes. It made Catelyn uneasy. She would get scant comfort there.

She knelt before the Mother. "My lady, look down on this battle with a mother's eyes. They are all sons, every one. Spare them if you can, and spare my own sons as well. Watch over Robb and Bran and Rickon. Would that I were with them."

A crack ran down through the Mother's left eye. It made her look as if she were crying. Catelyn could hear Ser Wendel's booming voice, and now and again Ser Robar's quiet answers, as they talked of the coming battle. Otherwise the night was still. Not even a cricket could be heard, and the gods kept their silence. Did your old gods ever answer you, Ned? she wondered. When you knelt before your heart tree, did they hear you?

Flickering torchlight danced across the walls, making the faces seem half alive, twisting them, changing them. The statues in the great septs of the cities wore the faces the stonemasons had given them, but these charcoal scratchings were so crude they might be anyone. The Father's face made her think of her own father, dying in his bed at Riverrun. The Warrior was Renly and Stannis, Robb and Robert, Jaime Lannister and Jon Snow. She even glimpsed Arya in those lines, just for an instant. Then a gust of wind through the door made the torch sputter, and the semblance was gone, washed away in orange glare.

The smoke was making her eyes burn. She rubbed at them with the heels of her scarred hands. When she looked up at the Mother again, it was her own mother she saw. Lady Minisa Tully had died in childbed, trying to give Lord Hoster a second son. The baby had perished with her, and afterward some of the life had gone out of Father. She was always so calm, Catelyn thought, remembering her mother's soft hands, her warm smile. If she had lived, how different our lives might have been. She wondered what Lady Minisa would make of her eldest daughter, kneeling here before her. I have come so many thousands of leagues, and for what? Who have I served? I have lost my daughters, Robb does not want me, and Bran and Rickon must surely think me a cold and unnatural mother. I was not even with Ned when he died . . .

Her head swam, and the sept seemed to move around her. The shadows swayed and shifted, furtive animals racing across the cracked white walls. Catelyn had not eaten today. Perhaps that had been unwise. She told herself that there had been no time, but the truth was that food had lost its savor in a world without Ned. When they took his head off, they killed me too.

Behind her the torch spit, and suddenly it seemed to her that it was her sister's face on the wall, though the eyes were harder than she recalled, not Lysa's eyes but Cersei's. Cersei is a mother too. No matter who fathered those children, she felt them kick inside her, brought them forth with her pain and blood, nursed them at her breast. If they are truly Jaime's . . .

"Does Cersei pray to you too, my lady?" Catelyn asked the Mother. She could see the proud, cold, lovely features of the Lannister queen etched upon the wall. The crack was still there; even Cersei could weep for her children. "Each of the Seven embodies all of the Seven," Septon Osmynd had told her once. There was as much beauty in the Crone as in the Maiden, and the Mother could be fiercer than the Warrior when her children were in danger. Yes . . .

She had seen enough of Robert Baratheon at Winterfell to know that the king did not regard Joffrey with any great warmth. If the boy was truly Jaime's seed, Robert would have put him to death along with his mother, and few would have condemned him. Bastards were common enough, but incest was a monstrous sin to both old gods and new, and the children of such wickedness were named abominations in sept and godswood alike. The dragon kings had wed brother to sister, but they were the blood of old Valyria where such practices had been common, and like their dragons the Targaryens answered to neither gods nor men.

Ned must have known, and Lord Arryn before him. Small wonder that the queen had killed them both. Would I do any less for my own? Catelyn clenched her hands, feeling the tightness in her scarred fingers where the assassin's steel had cut to the bone as she fought to save her son. "Bran knows too," she whispered, lowering her head. Gods be good, he must have seen something, heard something, that was why they tried to kill him in his bed.

Lost and weary, Catelyn Stark gave herself over to her gods. She knelt before the Smith, who fixed things that were broken, and asked that he give her sweet Bran his protection. She went to the Maid and beseeched her to lend her courage to Arya and Sansa, to guard them in their innocence. To the Father, she prayed for justice, the strength to seek it and the wisdom to know it, and she asked the Warrior to keep Robb strong and shield him in his battles. Lastly she turned to the Crone, whose statues often showed her with a lamp in one hand. "Guide me, wise lady," she prayed. "Show me the path I must walk, and do not let me stumble in the dark places that lie ahead."

Finally there were footsteps behind her, and a noise at the door. "My lady," Ser Robar said gently, "pardon, but our time is at an end. We must be back before the dawn breaks."

Catelyn rose stiffly. Her knees ached, and she would have given much for a featherbed and a pillow just then. "Thank you, ser. I am ready."

They rode in silence through sparse woodland where the trees leaned drunkenly away from the sea. The nervous whinny of horses and the clank of steel guided them back to Renly's camp. The long ranks of man and horse were armored in darkness, as black as if the Smith had hammered night itself into steel. There were banners to her right, banners to her left, and rank on rank of banners before her, but in the predawn gloom, neither colors nor sigils could be discerned. A grey army, Catelyn thought. Grey men on grey horses beneath grey banners. As they sat their horses waiting, Renly's shadow knights pointed their lances upward, so she rode through a forest of tall naked trees, bereft of leaves and life. Where Storm's End stood was only a deeper darkness, a wall of black through which no stars could shine, but she could see torches moving across the fields where Lord Stannis had made his camp.

The candles within Renly's pavilion made the shimmering silken walls seem to glow, transforming the great tent into a magical castle alive with emerald light. Two of the Rainbow Guard stood sentry at the door to the royal pavilion. The green light shone strangely against the purple plums of Ser Parmen's surcoat, and gave a sickly hue to the sunflowers that covered every inch of Ser Emmon's enameled yellow plate. Long silken plumes flew from their helms, and rainbow cloaks draped their shoulders.

Within, Catelyn found Brienne armoring the king for battle while the Lords Tarly and Rowan spoke of dispositions and tactics. It was pleasantly warm inside, the heat shimmering off the coals in a dozen small iron braziers. "I must speak with you, Your Grace," she said, granting him a king's style for once, anything to make him heed her.

"In a moment, Lady Catelyn," Renly replied. Brienne fit backplate to breastplate over his quilted tunic. The king's armor was a deep green, the green of leaves in a summer wood, so dark it drank the candlelight. Gold highlights gleamed from inlay and fastenings like distant fires in that wood, winking every time he moved. "Pray continue, Lord Mathis."

"Your Grace," Mathis Rowan said with a sideways glance at Catelyn. "As I was saying, our battles are well drawn up. Why wait for daybreak? Sound the advance."

"And have it said that I won by treachery, with an unchivalrous attack? Dawn was the chosen hour."

"Chosen by Stannis," Randyll Tarly pointed out. "He'd have us charge into the teeth of the rising sun. We'll be half-blind."

"Only until first shock," Renly said confidently. "Ser Loras will break them, and after that it will be chaos." Brienne tightened green leather straps and buckled golden buckles. "When my brother falls, see that no insult is done to his corpse. He is my own blood, I will not have his head paraded about on a spear."

"And if he yields?" Lord Tarly asked.

"Yields?" Lord Rowan laughed. "When Mace Tyrell laid siege to Storm's End, Stannis ate rats rather than open his gates."

"Well I remember." Renly lifted his chin to allow Brienne to fasten his gorget in place. "Near the end, Ser Gawen Wylde and three of his knights tried to steal out a postern gate to surrender. Stannis caught them and ordered them flung from the walls with catapults. I can still see Gawen's face as they strapped him down. He had been our master-at-arms."

Lord Rowan appeared puzzled. "No men were hurled from the walls. I would surely remember that."

"Maester Cressen told Stannis that we might be forced to eat our dead, and there was no gain in flinging away good meat." Renly pushed back his hair. Brienne bound it with a velvet tie and pulled a padded cap down over his ears, to cushion the weight of his helm. "Thanks to the Onion Knight we were never reduced to dining on corpses, but it was a close thing. Too close for Ser Gawen, who died in his cell."

"Your Grace." Catelyn had waited patiently, but time grew short. "You promised me a word."

Renly nodded. "See to your battles, my lords . . . oh, and if Barristan Selmy is at my brother's side, I want him spared."

"There's been no word of Ser Barristan since Joffrey cast him out," Lord Rowan objected.

"I know that old man. He needs a king to guard, or who is he? Yet he never came to me, and Lady Catelyn says he is not with Robb Stark at Riverrun. Where else but with Stannis?"

"As you say, Your Grace. No harm will come to him." The lords bowed deeply and departed.

"Say your say, Lady Stark," Renly said. Brienne swept his cloak over his broad shoulders. It was cloth-of-gold, heavy, with the crowned stag of Baratheon picked out in flakes of jet.

"The Lannisters tried to kill my son Bran. A thousand times I have asked myself why. Your brother gave me my answer. There was a hunt the day he fell. Robert and Ned and most of the other men rode out after boar, but Jaime Lannister remained at Winterfell, as did the queen."

Renly was not slow to take the implication. "So you believe the boy caught them at their incest . . . "

"I beg you, my lord, grant me leave to go to your brother Stannis and tell him what I suspect."

"To what end?"

"Robb will set aside his crown if you and your brother will do the same," she said, hoping it was true. She would make it true if she must; Robb would listen to her, even if his lords would not. "Let the three of you call for a Great Council, such as the realm has not seen for a hundred years. We will send to Winterfell, so Bran may tell his tale and all men may know the Lannisters for the true usurpers. Let the assembled lords of the Seven Kingdoms choose who shall rule them."

Renly laughed. "Tell me, my lady, do direwolves vote on who should lead the pack?" Brienne brought the king's gauntlets and greathelm, crowned with golden antlers that would add a foot and a half to his height. "The time for talk is done. Now we see who is stronger." Renly pulled a lobstered green-and-gold gauntlet over his left hand, while Brienne knelt to buckle on his belt, heavy with the weight of longsword and dagger.

"I beg you in the name of the Mother," Catelyn began when a sudden gust of wind flung open the door of the tent. She thought she glimpsed movement, but when she turned her head, it was only the king's shadow shifting against the silken walls. She heard Renly begin a jest, his shadow moving, lifting its sword, black on green, candles guttering, shivering, something was queer, wrong, and then she saw Renly's sword still in its scabbard, sheathed still, but the shadowsword . . .

"Cold," said Renly in a small puzzled voice, a heartbeat before the steel of his gorget parted like cheesecloth beneath the shadow of a blade that was not there. He had time to make a small thick gasp before the blood came gushing out of his throat.

"Your Gr—no!" cried Brienne the Blue when she saw that evil flow, sounding as scared as any little girl. The king stumbled into her arms, a sheet of blood creeping down the front of his armor, a dark red tide that drowned his green and gold. More candles guttered out. Renly tried to speak, but he was choking on his own blood. His legs collapsed, and only Brienne's strength held him up. She threw back her head and screamed, wordless in her anguish.

The shadow. Something dark and evil had happened here, she knew, something that she could not begin to understand. Renly never cast that shadow. Death came in that door and blew the life out of him as swift as the wind snuffed out his candles.

Only a few instants passed before Robar Royce and Emmon Cuy came bursting in, though it felt like half the night. A pair of men-at-arms crowded in behind with torches. When they saw Renly in Brienne's arms, and her drenched with the king's blood, Ser Robar gave a cry of horror. "Wicked woman!" screamed Ser Emmon, he of the sunflowered steel. "Away from him, you vile creature!"

"Gods be good, Brienne, why?" asked Ser Robar.

Brienne looked up from her king's body. The rainbow cloak that hung from her shoulders had turned red where the king's blood had soaked into the cloth. "I . . . I . . . "

"You'll die for this." Ser Emmon snatched up a long-handled battleaxe from the weapons piled near the door. "You'll pay for the king's life with your own!"

"NO!" Catelyn Stark screamed, finding her voice at last, but it was too late, the blood madness was on them, and they rushed forward with shouts that drowned her softer words.

Brienne moved faster than Catelyn would have believed. Her own sword was not to hand, so she snatched Renly's from its scabbard and raised it to catch Emmon's axe on the downswing. A spark flashed blue-white as steel met steel with a rending crash, and Brienne sprang to her feet, the body of the dead king thrust rudely aside. Ser Emmon stumbled over it as he tried to close, and Brienne's blade sheared through the wooden haft to send his axehead spinning. Another man thrust a flaming torch at her back, but the rainbow cloak was too sodden with blood to burn. Brienne spun and cut, and torch and hand went flying. Flames crept across the carpet. The maimed man began to scream. Ser Emmon dropped the axe and fumbled for his sword. The second man-at-arms lunged, Brienne parried, and their swords danced and clanged against each other. When Emmon Cuy came wading back in, Brienne was forced to retreat, yet somehow she held them both at bay. On the ground, Renly's head rolled sickeningly to one side, and a second mouth yawned wide, the blood coming from him now in slow pulses.

Ser Robar had hung back, uncertain, but now he was reaching for his hilt. "Robar, no, listen." Catelyn seized his arm. "You do her wrong, it was not her. Help her! Hear me, it was Stannis." The name was on her lips before she could think how it got there, but as she said it, she knew that it was true. "I swear it, you know me, it was Stannis killed him."

The young rainbow knight stared at this madwoman with pale and frightened eyes. "Stannis? How?"

"I do not know. Sorcery, some dark magic, there was a shadow, a shadow." Her own voice sounded wild and crazed to her, but the words poured out in a rush as the blades continued to clash behind her. "A shadow with a sword, I swear it, I saw. Are you blind, the girl loved him! Help her!" She glanced back, saw the second guardsman fall, his blade dropping from limp fingers. Outside there was shouting. More angry men would be bursting in on them any instant, she knew. "She is innocent, Robar. You have my word, on my husband's grave and my honor as a Stark!"

That resolved him. "I will hold them," Ser Robar said. "Get her away." He turned and went out.

The fire had reached the wall and was creeping up the side of the tent. Ser Emmon was pressing Brienne hard, him in his enameled yellow steel and her in wool. He had forgotten Catelyn, until the iron brazier came crashing into the back of his head. Helmed as he was, the blow did no lasting harm, but it sent him to his knees. "Brienne, with me," Catelyn commanded. The girl was not slow to see the chance. A slash, and the green silk parted. They stepped out into darkness and the chill of dawn. Loud voices came from the other side of the pavilion. "This way," Catelyn urged, "and slowly. We must not run, or they will ask why. Walk easy, as if nothing were amiss."

Brienne thrust her sword blade through her belt and fell in beside Catelyn. The night air smelled of rain. Behind them, the king's pavilion was well ablaze, flames rising high against the dark. No one made any move to stop them. Men rushed past them, shouting of fire and murder and sorcery. Others stood in small groups and spoke in low voices. A few were praying, and one young squire was on his knees, sobbing openly.

Renly's battles were already coming apart as the rumors spread from mouth to mouth. The nightfires had burned low, and as the east began to lighten the immense mass of Storm's End emerged like a dream of stone while wisps of pale mist raced across the field, flying from the sun on wings of wind. Morning ghosts, she had heard Old Nan call them once, spirits returning to their graves. And Renly one of them now, gone like his brother Robert, like her own dear Ned.

"I never held him but as he died," Brienne said quietly as they walked through the spreading chaos. Her voice sounded as if she might break at any instant. "He was laughing one moment, and suddenly the blood was everywhere . . . my lady, I do not understand. Did you see, did you . . . ?"

"I saw a shadow. I thought it was Renly's shadow at the first, but it was his brother's."

"Lord Stannis?"

"I felt him. It makes no sense, I know . . . "

It made sense enough for Brienne. "I will kill him," the tall homely girl declared. "With my lord's own sword, I will kill him. I swear it. I swear it. I swear it."

Hal Mollen and the rest of her escort were waiting with the horses. Ser Wendel Manderly was all in a lather to know what was happening. "My lady, the camp has gone mad," he blurted when he saw them. "Lord Renly, is he—" He stopped suddenly, staring at Brienne and the blood that drenched her.

"Dead, but not by our hands."

"The battle—" Hal Mollen began.

"There will be no battle." Catelyn mounted, and her escort formed up about her, with Ser Wendel to her left and Ser Perwyn Frey on her right. "Brienne, we brought mounts enough for twice our number. Choose one, and come with us."

"I have my own horse, my lady. And my armor—"

"Leave them. We must be well away before they think to look for us. We were both with the king when he was killed. That will not be forgotten." Wordless, Brienne turned and did as she was bid. "Ride," Catelyn commanded her escort when they were all ahorse. "If any man tries to stop us, cut him down."

As the long fingers of dawn fanned across the fields, color was returning to the world. Where grey men had sat grey horses armed with shadow spears, the points of ten thousand lances now glinted silverly cold, and on the myriad flapping banners Catelyn saw the blush of red and pink and orange, the richness of blues and browns, the blaze of gold and yellow. All the power of Storm's End and Highgarden, the power that had been Renly's an hour ago. They belong to Stannis now, she realized, even if they do not know it themselves yet. Where else are they to turn, if not to the last Baratheon? Stannis has won all with a single evil stroke.

I am the rightful king, he had declared, his jaw clenched hard as iron, and your son no less a traitor than my brother here. His day will come as well.

#ClashofKings