take the sword and kill the prince

warmblackrooster  asked:

I'm still in a mindset of bumbling-accident-prone-prompto-trying-to-prove-himself and I was wondering if you could write something in that vein, like he's trying to impress Noct and messes up in crownsguard training, but he still likes him anyway, or something to that effect? (you're still one of my fav writers by the way. I can only dream of being as good as you.)

Author’s Notes: Thank you so, so much. I’m really glad you like my writing. <3  I hope you enjoy the drabble, and sorry it took so long. orz




Okay. Okay, he can do this.

So what if it’s his second day in training?

So what if he can barely hold the practice sword properly?

So what if Noct just casually announced that he was going to swing by and watch Cor put him through drills, like it didn’t strike Prompto through his very heart with terror?

He can still do this. He’s going to be on the Crownsguard. That makes him like an honorary badass already, right? He’s got to be, if he doesn’t want to mess this up.

The Crownsguard. Gods. Him.

“Argentum,” says Cor, tone flat and unreadable.

“Yes?” squeaks Prompto.

“Relax. Shoulders down.”

Prompto tries. Really he does. But it’s hard to practice the same block, over and over again, without his brain picking apart every little thing he’s getting wrong. When it’s done ripping him to shreds, it takes off running down a path five years from now, when Crownsguard Argentum, or whatever the hell his title will be, inevitably drops the ball and get the prince he’s supposed to be protecting killed.

“Argentum,” Cor says, with a sharper inflection this time.

“Sorry,” says Prompto, and tries to relax his shoulders.

Only somehow, when he relaxes his shoulders, he relaxes his whole arm. The grip on the handle of the practice sword falters as he brings the blunted blade down, and he can feel his grip slipping in horrified slow motion.

He watches the thing Cor swore should become an extension of his arm as it springs from his fingers. He watches it clang to the ground with a clatter of metal on stone that he’s sure he’ll be hearing in his anxiety nightmares for months. He watches Cor’s face, hard as granite, disapproval creeping in around the edges.

He can’t bring himself to look toward Noct.

Prompto dives for the sword, like if he’s fast enough he can erase the last fifteen seconds from existence. When he comes up, he knows he’s blushing like crazy. Even his ears feel hot.

“Uh,” says Prompto. “Just the shoulders next time. Got it.”


Two hours later, he’s sitting on the bench outside the training hall, hoping one of the gods will have mercy and strike him dead. He’ll take a lightning bolt from Ramuh. He’ll take a blizzard from Shiva. Hell, he’ll even take Bahamut’s whole arsenal if it means he doesn’t have to look up and see the disappointed look he’s sure is on Noct’s face.

“See?” says Prompto. “I told you, dude. Guys like me aren’t Crownsguard material.”

“The hell’re you talking about?” says Noct, and slides down onto the bench next to him, so close they’re touching at the shoulders.

“That,” says Prompto, with a vague gesture back toward the training hall. He’s blushing again. He can feel his face slowly going red.

There’s silence for a long moment, and Noct shifts. He’s got that look fixed on him, Prompto’s sure – that long, searching kind of look that always feels like he can see something hidden under Prompto’s skin.

“Quit that,” says Noct, at last.

“Quit what?” says Prompto. “Sucking so hard? Believe me, buddy, I would if I could.”

“That,” says Noct. “It’s your second day. You’re gonna make mistakes.”

“In front of Cor the Immortal,” says Prompto. “And you,” he thinks, but doesn’t add it.

“Cor’s been training new recruits for years.” Noct reaches over to nudge him with an elbow. “I guarantee, whatever dumb rookie slips you make, he’s seen dumber.”

“Great,” says Prompto, burying his face in his hands. “Thanks.”

But actually, when he thinks about it like that, it kind of helps. In the grand scheme of things, maybe he’s a screw-up. But he probably won’t be the biggest screw-up.

Noct leans into him, and the weight’s solid and warm against his shoulder. “Now quit worrying and let’s hit the arcade,” he says. “You still owe me a couple rounds at that new zombie shooting game.”

Prompto’s lips tug up into a grin. He stands and stretches, and he tells the worries running through his mind that they’re going to have to sit in the back seat for a while. “You only want to play cause you think you’re gonna beat my high score.”

“I know I’m gonna beat your high score,” says Noct, and unfolds himself from the bench with lazy grace.

Prompto flashes him a sidelong glance – falls into step as Noct heads toward the door. “I hit two million, dude. You got a long way to go.”

“You’re joking,” says Noct.

Prompto grins wider. “Not a chance.”

“Huh,” says Noct. There’s a weird inflection to it, kind of level, kind of thoughtful. He’s got Prompto pinned with a searching sort of look again.

Prompto squirms. “What?”

“Nothing,” says Noct, and starts walking again, with a shrug. “Just remembered something I wanted to talk to Cor about. That’s all.”

Thoughts on trailer

- shut up little Littlefinger SHUT UP, you got a voice over in the last trailer and I’m sick of your divisive voice.

- Sansa’s was so salty that she didn’t get to be in the stride teaser clip with Jon, Dany and Cersei she took up half the final trailer with her own stride lmao

- if the leaks are true I’m guessing the first clip of Jon is him preparing to catch a Wight, JS: “com on lads if we want help from the leaders in the south we better catch a wight and drag it all the way over there to prove it to them” some guy probably: “ur grace wouldn’t it be easier to-” JS: “LADS”

-Cersei looks round: “who’s at the door” Jaime: “its Jon Snow and his Wight” Cersei: “tell him i’m out”. ok i’ll drop this now

- Daenery’s stroke of her map reminded me of the way Cersei stroked that septa and kinda like the way Jon stroked the chairs in Winterfell, parallels idk, maybe you just start to weirdly stroke everything in a seductive way when you become King or Queen

-Arya looking powerful on a horse, Jaime walking dramatically while back turned to the camera and LF looking as creepy af as per. Standard mid way through trailer shit right there

-when the previous owner of your new house leaves his ugly décor all over 

-guessing Jon is talking to Daenerys here, but even though the Starks did bend the knee to the Targaryens for many years, they didn’t actually fight together on any occasion right?? the Starks have always been very reclusive and kept out of southern wars right?? am I missing something, am I not nerdy enough I rlly try, I should probably read world of ice a fire at some point, I’ll read it when if you write winds George

-Tyrion looks pained, probably thinking about his inevitable family reunion, everyone’s looking forward to the starks loving reunion which is fair but the Lannister’s reunion with their little hate triangle full of blame and resentment may be even better

- Brienne and Pod were absent from the entire first trailer and most of the promo pics (apart from the occasional back of Brienne’s head of course) but now they appear, it may only be for a second and a half but never has a second and a half been so well spent they waltz in like the embodiment of medieval Batman and Robin that they are, well done guys, hope you get some actual lines this season Pod.

- Sandor’s made it north then. yay.

- really hope that wasn’t Greyworm being deaded, if it is and he also has sex with Missandei this season it will solidify that if anyone gets together in got either one or both of them will die soon after: Robb and Talisa, Jon and Ygritte, Renly and Loras to name but a few.

-yh okay loads of fighting scenes

- Bran: “Hodor’s dead so I guess i’ll have to get an actual wheelchair now”

- who’s the old man with Bran he looks a bit like bloodraven but he’s dead so…

- wtf Beric didn’t even need a fire to light his sword, how??? is he the prince that is promised or something he’s not even alive in the books ffs

- Daenery’s ships have wings?? babe I know you’re a dragon queen and everything but don’t you think you’re taking the aesthetic a little to far

- so Jaime is charging in a field on his own with fire everywhere looking kinda of manic, it looks like he might be trying to fight a dragon “ JAiME dO NOt try to fight a DRAgON you will get yourself KILLeD, r u mad son” god I hate my favourite character.  

- Theon and Asha Yara look like they just witnessed the firework display of the decade

- the last 10 seconds are so much I don’ t even know what to say

- I actually yelled when Sansa quoted her daddy, at least someone reads the books. 

-where’s Gendry


And will the pairing that a lot of fans already want be the one that we all need?

A few book readers speculated that a political marriage between Jon Snow and Sansa Stark would be not only possible, but the best thing for House Stark, and maybe even for each other. However, the idea of any kind of match between them was a quiet cult theory, until season 6 of Game Of Thrones, which set Twitter and Tumblr on fire with the idea of the “Jonsa” romance ship. In this article, I’m going to go through as many reasons as I have discovered for this potential pairing, the foreshadowing that a lot of people might have overlooked, and why readers and viewers should think twice before completely dismissing the idea.

As I am starting with the books, I’ll go ahead and start at the very beginning, before the books were written. In George R. R. Martin’s outline for the series, he had a love triangle in the works, between Jon, Tyrion, and Arya. Even before the first book was finished, he had plans for Jon to wed a Stark cousin. The outline states on the subject:

“Arya will be more forgiving… until she realizes, with terror, that she has fallen in love with Jon, who is not only her half-brother but a man of the Night’s Watch, sworn to celibacy. Their passion will continue to torment Jon and Arya throughout the trilogy, until the secret of Jon’s true parentage is finally revealed in the last book.”

Given what I am about to lay out in this article, there seems to be a strong chance of GRRM having kept the cousin love triangle, but switched at least the sister, if not the other man (Jon/Tyrion[Littlefinger]/Sansa).

Jon and Sansa began their stories, and left Winterfell, with very similar ideas and worldviews, despite their differing personalities. Both were not just young, heady, and optimistic; both believed in the songs they were sung to as children, but in the heroes the songs described. Both had fantasies of a quieter life and family that, conspicuously, left each other out, and synchronized perfectly with each other.

I would need to steal her if I wanted her love, but she might give me children. I might someday hold a son of my own blood in my arms. A son was something Jon Snow had never dared dream of, since he decided to live his life on the Wall. I could name him Robb. Val would want to keep her sister’s son, but we could foster him at Winterfell, and Gilly’s boy as well. Sam would never need to tell his lie. We’d find a place for Gilly too, and Sam could come visit her once a year or so. Mance’s son and Craster’s would grow up brothers, as I once did with Robb.
He wanted it, Jon knew then. He wanted it as much as he had ever wanted anything. I have always wanted it, he thought, guiltily. - A Storm Of Swords - Jon XII

This is a fantasy Jon had, ostensibly about Val, the Wildling sister of Mance Rayder’s wife, whom Jon was infatuated with, at the time. However, she does not feature at all after a cursory mention of stealing her away. He fantasized much more about the hypothetical family than her, and both that fact, and his fantasy-family makeup, is very telling, in three ways.
1.  This fantasy is a direct and near-perfect recreation of the Stark household that he remembers, with him as the new Neddish patriarch.
2. He is not fantasizing about a Wildling girl who walks through Walker territory like it ain’t no thang, or a warrior girl, or a highborn princess, or even a platinum-haired nude dragon queen. He is fantasizing about Val as a mother, and more importantly, as not only the mother he knew (Catelyn), but how he wished Catelyn to be.
3. Most women that we read about in aSoIaF or watch in GoT do not share this fantasy; Westerosi girls tend to be action girls. The only female character who had any kind of similar fantasy, let alone one that synchronizes nearly perfectly to Jon’s, is Sansa:

She pictured the two of them sitting together in a garden with puppies in their laps, or listening to a singer strum upon a lute while they floated down the Mander on a pleasure barge. If I give him sons, he may come to love me. She would name them Eddard and Brandon and Rickon, and raise them all to be as valiant as Ser Loras. And to hate Lannisters, too. In Sansa’s dreams, her children looked just like the brothers she had lost. Sometimes there was even a girl who looked like Arya. - A Storm Of Swords - Sansa

Although they fantasized about different people ostensibly (Jon-Val; Sansa-Willas/Loras Tyrell), both fantasies complete the other, and tell very similar stories about each of them. Both think that love is an addendum to marriage, and something that needs to be worked on. They both disregard the personalities of their interest for what they remember of their mother and father. They both recreate their dead and missing siblings, with exceptions. Robb, Arya, Bran and Rickon are noted, as well as even a Ned. The only figures missing are themselves and each other.

What makes this so extremely notable is not just that the fantasies click perfectly together. It’s not even that Jon’s always wanted exactly this, even from the start, when he dared not wish for his own family. What makes this truly meaningful, is that there is only one girl in all of Westeros who knows what growing up in Winterfell was like, and who wants the same thing as him, and is not yearning for adventure, vengeance, a throne, or power, let alone above this desire.

Just as Sansa is the only person who fits the bill for Jon, Jon is the only man who has lived up perfectly to Sansa’s fantasies and dreams of heroic knights in shining armor.

“Sweet one,” her father said gently, “listen to me. When you’re old enough, I will make you a match with a high lord who’s worthy of you, someone brave and gentle and strong. This match with Joffrey was a terrible mistake. That boy is no Prince Aemon, you must believe me.” - A Game Of Thrones - Sansa

Curiously, although Prince Aemon Targaryen is a historical character in the Ice & Fire/Thrones universe, Prince Aemon is also the role Jon would take in childhood mock jousts with Robb; judge for yourself if that’s a coincidence.

“I’m Prince Aemon the Dragonknight,” Jon would call out, and Robb would shout back, “Well, I’m Florian the Fool.” -A Storm of Swords – Jon XII

(Sidenote - foreshadowing with other foreshadowing: if you think about it, Robb literally died a fool. He got himself, and Cat, killed for love, when he could’ve married the Frey girl, gotten safe passage from the Freys, and marched towards Kings Landing to avenge his father and rescue Sansa. But we all know what he was thinking with instead of his brain…)

Jon is by every and all accounts the valiant and heroic knight Sansa wished and pined for, as a dreamy 11-year-old girl. Before I continue, I have to add that the men of the Night’s Watch are often referred to as The Black Knights.

Jon has all of the qualities of the kind of man Ned described to her, as well as all of the qualities of the kind of man she’d always wanted; both as a young, wistful girl dreaming of Aemon the Dragonknight making Queen Naerys his lady love, and the shattered, hardened, and disaffected woman she’s grown to become. She has discarded her fairy tales, because she has realized, through firsthand experience, that those fairytales are not nearly as pretty as they sound. The fairytales are horrifying; they are soaked in the blood and tears of the events and people they describe. Jon is the only character who can fulfill both the dreams and fantasies of 11-year-old Sansa, and the disillusioned young woman who’s never until now known a true hero. No other character in either aSoIaF or GoT can do the same:

Frog-faced Lord Slynt sat at the end of the council table wearing a black velvet doublet and a shiny cloth-of-gold cape, nodding with approval every time the king pronounced a sentence. Sansa stared hard at his ugly face, remembering how he had thrown down her father for Ser Ilyn to behead, wishing she could hurt him, wishing that some hero would throw him down and cut off his head. But a voice inside her whispered, There are no heroes, and she remembered what Lord Petyr had said to her, here in this very hall. “Life is not a song, sweetling,” he’d told her. “You may learn that one day to your sorrow.” In life, the monsters win, she told herself, and now it was the Hound’s voice she heard, a cold rasp, metal on stone. “Save yourself some pain, girl, and give him what he wants.” - A Game Of Thrones - Sansa VI

That he did, albeit with poor grace, crossing his arms, scowling, and ignoring the naked steel in his lord commander’s hands. Jon slid the oilcloth down his bastard sword, watching the play of morning light across the ripples, thinking how easily the blade would slide through skin and fat and sinew to part Slynt’s ugly head from his body. All of a man’s crimes were wiped away when he took the black, and all of his allegiances as well, yet he found it hard to think of Janos Slynt as a brother. There is blood between us. This man helped slay my father and did his best to have me killed as well. - A Dance With Dragons - Jon II

Not long after, in the same chapter, Jon does the deed:

Emmett kicked his legs out from under him. Dolorous Edd planted a foot on his back to keep him on his knees as Emmett shoved the block beneath his head. “This will go easier if you stay still,” Jon Snow promised him. “Move to avoid the cut, and you will still die, but your dying will be uglier. Stretch out your neck, my lord.” The pale morning sunlight ran up and down his blade as Jon clasped the hilt of the bastard sword with both hands and raised it high. “If you have any last words, now is the time to speak them,” he said, expecting one last curse.

Janos Slynt twisted his neck around to stare up at him. “Please, my lord. Mercy. I’ll … I’ll go, I will, I …”

No, thought Jon. You closed that door. Longclaw descended.

Their geographic and psychological journeys are near-perfect mirrors of each other. Sansa heads south while Jon goes north. Sansa becomes Lady Lannister, then a bastard (an identity at least partially crafted on her ideas of Jon); then, in the show, Lady Bolton, and finally the Lady of Winterfell. Jon, meanwhile, goes from Bastard, to Jon Stark (in Robb’s will, which Jon hasn’t seen or heard about), to Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, and in the show, finally, King in the North. Both have to pretend they want nothing to do with their previous lives (Sansa as a prisoner in KL, and Jon with the Wildlings). Both have to essentially fake it to make it, as Sansa tries to actively forget she is not Alayne Stone, and Jon is tempted to stay with the Wildlings.
Through all of this, they both try to cling to certain things. Even after abandoning their childhood idealisms to make hard choices, and even through the processes of grieving for their family, as well as trying to become different people, they both have always held notions of justice, fairness, and even compassion close to their hearts and minds.

Also, out of all the surviving Starks, only Sansa sensed Jon’s death:

“There was ice underfoot, and broken stones just waiting to turn an ankle, and the wind was howling fiercely. It sounds like a wolf, thought Sansa. A ghost wolf, as big as mountains.” - A Feast For Crows - Sansa’s final chapter

As soon as news of Jon’s parentage comes out in the North, his claim to Winterfell will be, at the very least, heavily debated among and contested by the Northern lords. Although half Stark, he is not the son of Eddard, but of Lyanna. On top of that, he has a Targaryen father. Seeing as the Mad King killed Ned’s father Rickard Stark, and Ned’s brother Brandon. The Northern lords will have no loyalty to a Targaryen.
Jon/Sansa would be both an excellent twist of the kind that aSoIaF/Got are known for, and mutually beneficial for the both.
Their marriage would secure Jon’s claim to the North, unite the North as it needs to be for the War for the Dawn, and secures the safety and place at Winterfell for both. Also, as she says in the books, “No one will ever marry me for love.” It’s a sad truth, but a truth nonetheless; every and all other Lords would want to marry her for her claim to Winterfell. Jon, though, would never force Sansa to marry anyone. He knows what she’s been through. He cares for her, and would never hurt her in any way. Sansa knows this, and it might just be what will drive her to suggest they marry. Jon needs a Queen either way, to keep the Stark bloodline going.
I will even go so far as to say this: I think that the northern lords will want to make Sansa their Queen after they find out about Jon’s parentage, in which case, same thing; she’ll need to keep the Stark bloodline going. Add to that him being a Targaryen, and she a Stark, they would literally be uniting not only the North, but the South too.
Soon, every person in the whole of at least Westeros will find out about the Night’s King and the White Walkers. It is this exact moment that the North will need stability, and hope. A union between Sansa and Jon would give the northerners nothing less or other than that. Jon is a great commander. He is brave, and honorable, and he will do all he can to keep Sansa and all the northerners safe. He’ll fight for them. The prospect, the reassurance, and after the battle is over and the war is won, Winterfell and the North will be rebuilt, by its people with the support and help of their King and Queen. Everything points to their union.
The prospect, the reassurance, that after the battle is over, after the war is won, Winterfell, the North will be rebuilt, by its people with the support and help of their King and Queen. Everything that points to a good resolution for the stories of Ice & Fire, and Thrones, points to their union.

Even on Thrones, David Benioff and Dan Weiss have planted an insane amount of seeds for Jonsa. Not only for a political union, but in season 6 set the internet on fire with gooey Jonsa romantic tension, with gems such as this moment, from s6e5 (The Door):

Jon: New dress?
Sansa: I made it myself, do you like it?
Jon: Yeah, well, it’s—I like the wolf bit.

Brothers awkwardly fumbling for words to compliment their half-sister’s dress? Not something you see everyday. This scene was unnecessary, but D&D included it, I’ll allege for a reason. I’m not necessarily saying that Jon is in love with Sansa here, but the tension between them and their interactions are very awkward, and not how they should be between two people who think they are brother and sister. Also, this is not something a brother says to a sister in danger:

Jon: I won’t ever let him touch you again. I’ll protect you. I promise. (From s6e9 - Battle Of The Bastards)

Again, a bizarre choice of words, if Jonsa is not a component of the story. Brothers say things like “ I will never let him hurt you again”, or “tell me where he is”.  Let’s not forget most of their scenes have them speaking while being surrounded by warm candle light and with soft focus; quite a romantic atmosphere for two SIBLINGS.
The way their scenes were shot, do not only mirror Ned’s and Cat’s, but also Robb’s and Talisa’s. I find it hard to believe D&D wrote and shot their scenes the way they did accidentally. They wanted to do one of either two things:
either set Twitter and Tumblr on fire with Sophie and Kit’s chemistry; or, subtly, put this notion into our heads, have us talk about it, and speculate. Whichever they did, it obviously worked, thus introducing us to the idea, and actually preparing us for it.

PS I thought that @castaliareed and @fedonciadale  would be interested in this meta; I hope it’s good for a 1st.

anonymous asked:

Write a title, set a timer for ten minutes, and write like mad! Post whatever you come up with, whether it’s turned into a story or not. Feel free to join!

Title: Untitled Scene

“So there I was,” Jaegar goes on, swaying the cut of his sword dangerously close to Dal’s nose, “not much older than you - taller, yes, but not much older - when Captain Colt was dragging me out of some back alley and back half across the camp - one hand around my neck and the other around my nuts, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” Dal answers immediately, even though no, he has no idea. But after half a year in Jaegar’s company he found out it’s better to let some things slide.

“So, the old Colt throws me right into the mud and starts to go on about how I’m a disgrace and how he should have left me for the Alliance. He makes a big speech, like really really big and the other soldiers start to laugh all in god humour. Damn good times I tell you. That was all before the Prince joined of course-”

Vinchris coughs loud enough to interrupt him and continues to jab a wet branch into the bonfire.

Jaegar waves the warning off with his sword. The blade flickers bright orange, then red. “Don’t be such a puss, Vin. The Prince ’s already asleep. Anyway, Dal, I tell you if this doesn’t kill you and the men don’t scare you off, this is the right place for you. Look at me, I’m still here.”

“Where else should you be?” Vinchris asks, but it sounds not like a question at all.

Jaegar take the whetstone and continues to swipe it down the blade. “The Company is family. They’re about the only place who will take a bastard like me. That’s just how things are.”

Vinchris stabs the branch into the fire with more force than necessary. The story is over.

“I didn’t know you were a bastard,” Dal says after a while.

“You don’t see me flinging a surname around, do you?” Jaegar laughs, but the sound is hollow from the pain inside of him. “I’m about as much a bastard as the Prince is.”

“Wait the Prince -”

Vinchris cuts them off with another warning cough. The scar around his throat flickers in and out of visor with the dancing flames.

They keep listening to the slow whistles that the whetstone leaves on the blade and the cackle of the fire between their feet.

“I think I understand,” Dal eventually says.

“He’s one of us now,” Jaegar jokes. “Fucking Bastard.“

It startles Dal enough to cut sharp into a laugh.

He hasn’t laughed since Thy.

It hurts worse than all the times before.

pattykrabbies  asked:

For he drabble challenege, 72 sounds reaaally adorable. Any ship is cool

summary - patton has a bit of a crisis and roman only knows how to fight things 

pairing - royality 

word count - 1059

warnings - angst, mentions of killing 

tags - hurt/comfort, angst-to-fluff, 

a/n - okay wow i’m so sorry this turned out really angsty but never fear there’s fluff in the end!

tagging - @ace-anxiety-sanders , @pointless-blog-name , @lampisimportant , @pippa-frost , @jinxed-unicorn , @starrykid

It’s dark outside when Prince passes by Morality’s door, wielding a sword in one hand and his shield in the other—dragons never wanted pick a fight in the daytime—when he hears it: soft, muffled crying coming from inside the room, heart-wrenching and deeply concerning.

Prince takes a cautious step forward, squaring his shoulders and drawing his sword instinctively as he quickly switches back into battle-mode. The sound persists, and he shifts his shield to grab the doorknob, twisting it slowly before he bursts inside — sword already swinging.

Keep reading

i love mytho’s outfit on the blu-ray cover so here’s a drama-filled sketch…..that’s the non-referenced sword of his rent-in-twain boyfriend lohengrin

once i saw a post about how the characters in the story (siegfried/lohengrin/tutu, who are also all dating) are like the European Fairy Tale Post-Christian Hero Type aka selflessly sacrificing, but to find success within the series, all the main characters have to Not be 100% selfless

anonymous asked:

Writing prompt: People assumed that Megan carried the sword to earn her keep, to defend herself from the monsters of the night and cut out the tongues that scorned her name. But no one knew that it was a blunt sword, one she had never killed with before.

(BTW, I do do prompts! I’ve gotten a lot of them so it may take me a couple of days :) Thanks for sending this one in anon!)

“I never wanted to become a legend,” Megan says gloomily, staring at the sheathed sword on her knees.

Across the campfire, the mountain troll snorts. “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re a horror story, not a legend.”

Megan isn’t sure she wants to be hearing that from a mountain troll, particularly not one who had been trying to sneak up and eat her only twenty minutes before. She doesn’t answer, staring at the way the firelight flickers over the metal scabbard, sending long, deep shadows into the engravings along it.

“If you’re going to kill me,” the mountain troll says, “hurry up and do it. Sun’s coming up and I’d rather go by that sword than a bit of sunlight.” The troll looks anxiously to the horizon, hands twisting in the ropes binding it to the pine tree behind it.

Megan, feeling dangerous, picks her sword up with both hands, one on the scabbard, one on the hilt. The troll’s beady eyes fix on it, the breath seeming to still in their lungs. Slowly, Megan drew her sword just one inch. Then two.

“The Sword of a Thousand Souls,” the mountain troll breathes. The troll stares for another beat and then laughs without humor. “They said you could feel the pressure of your kills from across a field.” It swallows. “They were right.”

So even this one can’t tell a blunt sword from a live one.

Megan sheathes her sword with force, the metal singing a protest, and stands. She doesn’t know what she expected. To be caught? To be freed of this reputation? To be understood?


She can’t look down at the troll, the troll being taller than her even while sitting, but she tries. “You’re a disappointment,” she says coldly. “Maybe the sun will think differently.” She turns sharply on her heel and clicks her fingers. With a hiss, the fire goes out.

“Wait,” the troll says with alarm. “Wait! You can’t leave me here! Behead me, stab me, take my heart, anything. I don’t want to burn!”

Megan scoops up her bag, purses her lips, and keeps walking.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

from Prince's Gambit... after Damen kills a man throwing a sword... what was Laurent really doing that took so long? *wink* and... perhaps Damen goes to look for him?

Laurent saw to the horses. Damen saw to the fire. Damen was aware that Laurent was taking more time with the horses than was necessary or usual. He ignored it. He built the fire. He cleared the earth, gathered fallen branches and broke them down to the correct size. And then sat down beside it and said nothing.

Laurent did not reappear. Damen wondered, suddenly, if there had been another man hidden among the short trees and bushes, and he rose from his place near the fire. 

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Collateral Damage

Chapters: 1/1
Wordcount: 15,217
Fandom: Fire Emblem Fates
Rating: Teen and Up
Warnings: Temporary Character Death, Mild Violence
Relationships: Xanlow (Xander/Laslow), various background relationships
Characters: Xander, Laslow, Odin, various other members of the Nohrian royalty with cameos by Ryoma and Saizo
Additional Tags: Mild Canon Divergence, Grief, Revelations Route, Near Future, Post-Canon, Character Study

Summary: Xander does not realize the depths of his feelings for Laslow until it is too late.

Fill for @dorkpatroller​ for the @xanlow-exchange​ for the prompt “I thought you were dead”

Also read on AO3!

“If, after the war, I were to go somewhere. Somewhere far away… If you never saw me again… Would you be angry? Would you be able to forgive me for abandoning you?”

“…Yes. I would.”

Xander had never expected Laslow to stay with him forever, had been prepared to lose him someday.

“Oh? Truly?”

“It is not your company I require. Only that you continue to draw breath. I just want you to ensure you live. Whatever your true name or appearance.”

What he had not prepared for was losing Laslow, not to a happy life in another world, but to a lonely death of the fields of battle.

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Some musings on fairy tales and tropes I wrote after watching TFA for the first time, in 2016.

Rey is in Maz’s CASTLE when she finds Kylo’s heritage saber. Maz’s place is a CASTLE, which makes this a fairy tale. What happened there is very much like what happened when Belle entered the Beast’s castle. Rey met a wise old lady (Maz instead of MrsPotts) who was very curious about her and asked Han who the girl was. Maybe because she feels curious but there may be more to it because she doesn’t ask who the boy, Finn, is. Maz can feel the Force and later she will tell Rey that her belonging lies ahead, so she knows much more than she seems. By asking who that girl is she may be wondering if that girl (Rey) is the one that she “knew” would come (to set Ben Solo free from the spell Snoke set on him?). Maz is another trope in a tale. There is usually a wise older lady who tells the girl about her destiny (a godmother fairy, Mrs Potts in “Beauty and the Beast”, a sort of motherly figure giving advice to this girl who grew up without a mother).

So we have the castle, the godmother telling the girl about her destiny, and also the orphaned girl. Girls in fairy tales have always lost their mothers, sometimes also their fathers, but they are always motherless as an indication of a passage towards adulthood. The girls are no longer children but women. Tales are always symbolic.

Then Rey goes where she shouldn’t go (like Belle when she goes to the West Wing in the Beast’s castle although she has been told not to go there). When Maz sees her there after her vision, Rey says “I shouldn’t have come here” (correct me if you remember her exact words better) or perhaps “I shouldn’t have touched anything”, meaning she shouldn’t have touched the lightsaber.

Another trope, the price under a spell. Kylo is a prince. That’s why San Tekka says to Poe Leia is a general but for him she will always be royalty. He says this just before Kylo appears there. This way they are telling the viewers that he is royalty. He is “in disguise” and “under a spell” but San Tekka reminds him of who he is ( a prince) and that he can’t escape which family he belongs too. As he is under a spell he rejects the truth. He won’t be able to accept it without (Rey’s?) help.

Then we have the girl going where she “shouldn’t” go when Rey goes to the castle’s cellar (the West Wing) and finds her destiny but doesn’t know what she has found. It’s the lightsaber and there she sees her future love for the first time ( or maybe she saw him some way before, like when Belle reads the tale where a girl meets a prince but doesn’t know it’s him until she gets to chapter three). Perhaps she has seen him in dreams or nightmares before, like it happens in the novelization. The lightsaber calls to her and the man in her vision tries to approach her twice. That lightsaber may be extremely important for Ben, because Belle touches the rose in the West Wing and it is already dying. The Beast freaks out because she touched it. When the rose dies, the Beast will have no chance to become human again. Kylo/Ben still feels the Light, which is like the Beast’s humanity (represented by the rose) but it is dwindling and Darkness is engulfing him. When this Light dies ( when the rose dies) the Dark Side will conquer his soul for ever and with no way back. Time is already dying out.

The spell must be broken before it is too late. Here we have another trope.

In the visions Kylo tries to approach Rey but she can’t see his face until he unmasks for her in SKB. In the West Wing Belle sees her prince’s face for the first time in a portrait but doesn’t recognise he is the one for her until the end (Episode lX then?). She doesn’t realise that she has seen the Beast’s human face or that he is the prince in the tale she was reading at the beginning of the movie, her favourite tale, and also her future love. It will be the same with Kylo/Ben. Rey has already seen his human face during the interrogation scene, both in the literal sense ( she saw his beautiful face) and also the figurative one, because she felt his inner self (Ben) and she could enter his head and see his thoughts and feelings. She called him a monster, which is very similar to “Beast”. She doesn’t accept him like Belle doesn’t accept the Beast at first and it will take her the whole trilogy to realise she loves him, although they were predestined from the start. Kylo will evolve until she can accept him and love him. She won’t love him until he changes.

Love breaks the spell, another trope.If this is a fairy tale she will love him back or the monster persona (the Kylo Ren persona) will take over for ever and the prince (Ben) will “die”. He said to Han he had destroyed Ben but this isn’t true, not yet. As Han says, his son is alive.

When Rey is in the castle she finds a magic sword ( the lightsaber) but she doesn’t accept her quest. Here we have a trope with gender reversal where the sword calls to a girl. We have a magic sword and a heroine to break the spell, rescue the prince and kill the dragon (snake-dragon, Snoke).

She runs away and meets the prince in a forest (like so many other princesses in tales) but the GA didn’t realise who he was and neither did Rey. However, he took her into his ship because he knew. That’s why he is so surprised she is only a scavenger, because he is waiting for a girl and everything indicates it’s Rey. Can the woman fate (the Force) sent for him be only a scavenger?

I’d love it if Rey “no one”, the scavenger, was the one to love and save “the prince”. This would mean every girl is a princess and a heroine, and worthy of love and being loved, any girl could be chosen to set off on a great quest and be the chosen one without blood having anything to do with it. But I expect something else because they have created too many expectations on the viewers for too long. If she was a nobody we should already know.

anonymous asked:

What about Lancelot?

Lancelot is 👌🏻. (#it’s actually one of my favs)

Send me a ship/prompt.

A shout rises up in the back of the blue paladin’s throat as his red bayard is forcibly removed from his grip and thrown off to the side. He had been on a high up cliff, sniping down anyone looking to harm his fellow paladins. He felt a hand grip the collar of his armor and yank him up before throwing him backwards. His back hit the ground with a hard thud. His helmet was yanked off and thrown away as well, most likely to prevent him from calling back up. He groaned, a boot planting itself against his chest, and opened his eyes to see Prince Lotor standing above him with a smirk.

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Prince!Youngjae AU (Part 9)

A/N - Here is part 9 for you all aka the last part to this series! Ah it’s been so fun writing it and exploring a prince AU for the first time. I really hope you’ve all enjoyed it~

PreviewPart 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

“(Y/N),” Youngjae breathed out in disbelief. Of all the people he was expecting to see, (Y/N) was right at the bottom of the list. “But, why are you here?”
“We received a message saying some rebels were attacking and made our way here as quick as we possibly could. Thankfully there don’t seem to be too many casualties so far,” she replied, keeping her sword out and ready to attack anyone who would jeopardise the safety of the people in the room. 
“I can’t believe you’re here.”
“No time for that, Youngjae. We’ve got a palace to protect. I told Jinyoung I’d find you and get back to him so we can go kick some rebel ass. In the mean while, all of you here need to stay here. I’l going to lock the door so no one can get in that way. Whoever’s strongest can have this spare dagger of mine just in case someone manages to get in. Familiarise yourself with the room and make sure you know all the good hiding spots, okay? Can’t be losing any of you now, can we? Come on, Youngjae, we need to go.” Youngjae followed (Y/N) down to where Jinyoung was waiting. He couldn’t tell if his suspicions that they were more than friends was accurate or not but pushed those thoughts aside. That wasn’t important. What was important was him doing everything he could to protect his home and the people in it. He knew that fighting wasn’t a strength of his but with (Y/N) beside him, Youngjae knew he could do anything. Seeing numerous soldiers and rebels fighting each other made Youngjae nervous but he pressed on and did what he knew was right for himself and for his people.

After what felt like hours late, Youngjae relaxed a little. He, Jinyoung and (Y/N) had done well and no longer had any rebels surrounding them. Of course they couldn’t fully relax but they also didn’t have to stand there in constant fear and worry. Jinyoung had just left to go and check up on the king and queen, leaving (Y/N) and Youngjae alone.
“It’s nice to see you again, despite the current situation,” Youngjae said to her. 
“It is nice. I’ve missed it here. And I’ve missed you.”
“I missed you too. How’s living in the other kingdom?”
“It’s good, I love it there. Jinyoung and everyone have been so kind and welcoming to me.”
“Ah, that’s nice to hear. Are you thinking of coming back any time soon?”
“I really don’t know. Eventually I will but I have no idea when it’ll happen.”
“Well I can understand if you’d want to stay there longer. It’s been a while since I was last there but I can remember loving it.”
“I think we should talk about what happened between us. With Yugyeom. Not here and not right now. But after everything has stopped and calmed.”
“Yes we should. But not now,” Youngjae agreed, slowly nodding his head. 

Before either of them could speak again, a group of rebels burst in, taking the two by surprise. (Y/N) managed to kill 3 of them but the fourth had a knife held to Youngjae’s throat. 
“If you even think of moving missy, the prince gets it. Now drop that sword.”  She hesitated, not wanting to give in but the rebel just added a little pressure to Youngjae’s neck, making him whimper from the pain. (Y/N) dropped it and scowled at the man.
“Good. Now just you wait until someone else comes in and then we can take your little prince away.”
“Why do you want him?”
“Because he’s a prince. He’s a useful asset to our cause.”
“Is he though? He can barely fight and only started taking an active part in the royal court because I told him to. If you want to take anyone away, it’s me.”
“(Y/N), no!” Youngjae called out, not caring about what the man might do. 
“Shut it you. I won’t hurt your precious little lady here. Seems like you have an admirer, dear.”
“Back to the conversation, if you will,” (Y/N) said, ignoring Youngjae’s presence for the moment. She couldn’t show that he was her weakness. 
“You want me to take you instead?”
“Well why not? I’m more useful than he is.”
“But would the king care about you? No, you’d be better off dead wouldn’t you,” he said, letting go of Youngjae and running to her, pinning her up against the wall. His knife was hovering right next to her neck but (Y/N) didn’t back down.

In a moment of fright, Youngjae leapt forward and picked up (Y/N)’s sword. He held it to his neck, hands shaking. 
“If you kill her, I’ll kill myself.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” the rebel said, scoffing at him.
“Youngjae, don’t do it.”
“No, I will. Let her go and I’ll go with you. Kill her and I die too.”
“Do it,” the man said threateningly. Youngjae added more pressure to the blade, ignoring the pain. A few small droplets of blood dripped down the side of his neck and the rebel immediately let (Y/N) go. He tried to run over to stop Youngjae but (Y/N) was quicker. She was unarmed but dangerous. Within seconds (Y/N) had the man on the floor. 
“Looks like you won’t be getting what you wanted,” she said sweetly before looking up to Youngjae and holding her hand out for her sword. He passed it to her and let her do what she did best.

Hours later once all the commotion had died down and all the rebels were dead or had run away, Youngjae, (Y/N) and Jinyoung could finally all breathe properly and talk. They were walking towards the throne room where they were to see all the other fighters who had survived. As soon as they walked in, something felt wrong. All three of them could sense it. Frantically looking around, Youngjae asked where his parents were. A soldier walked up to them, noticing his state of panic. (Y/N) recognised him as the captain of the royal guard. He nodded to (Y/N), glad to see her face again before turning to Youngjae with a solemn look on his face. 
“I am sorry, your highness. But both your mother and father were killed in the rebel’s attack. They got your father first and your mother ran to him to try and kill the rebel who did it but unfortunately she did not make it through.” He bowed and walked away, leaving (Y/N) and Jinyoung comfort him. Youngjae broke down into tears, unable to keep his emotions together. (Y/N) put an arm around him and guided him out of the room to give him some privacy away from prying eyes.

(Y/N) sat there with her arms around him, letting him cry on her shoulder. She hated to see him so sad. 
“I shouldn’t be crying like this to you. It’s not fair. Not after what I did to you.”
“No, Youngjae. It’s okay. I forgive you for what happened.”
“How can you forgive me? I don’t deserve it.”
“Youngjae, shh. Stop saying that.”
“But what I did was awful. I can barely forgive myself.”
“No, what you did was out of confusion and a determination to do the right thing. While people may have suffered from your mistake, that’s all it was. A mistake. Yes I would give anything for Yugyeom to be alive right now but he’s not. And that’s something I have come to accept. Now you need to fully accept yourself and move on, okay? I forgive you for what happened and you need to forgive yourself. I care about you a lot and hurts to see you so sad and hateful of yourself. I know things aren’t going well right now but you will get through this and one day it won’t hurt so much.”
“How can I do this without them? They were my parents.”
“I know. And I thought the same when I lost Yugyeom. It’s like a part of you is suddenly missing. Like you’ve lost a limb or something. But you can get through this Youngjae. You’re strong. And I’ll be here for you every step of the way.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I’m going to stay here.”
“But what about Jinyoung?”
“What about him?”
“Aren’t you two..you know..”
“No, Youngjae, we’re not. And anyway I want to be here for you. You could probably benefit from having a bodyguard again. Can’t have someone coming after you, can we?” Youngjae smiled a little at her comment, feeling slightly better considering the circumstances. 
“Come on, we better get back in there. You’ve got a bit of responsibility now.”
“Oh yeah, I’m the king now. Didn’t think I’d be saying that for a while.”
“King Youngjae. I like it,” (Y/N) said smiling and placing a hand comfortingly on Youngjae’s. She was fully prepared to stay by his side and help him heal. She cared about him and wanted to make sure he became his old smiling self. And he was a king now, quite possibly the best one (Y/N) had seen for a while, and he had barely even done anything yet.

anonymous asked:

Hi!! Could we have a scenario of Shiro rescuing his s/o who's been captured by Lotor??

Sorry this took so long! I couldn’t think what to write for this when I first saw it then school got in the way and then i realized season 4 came out. Speaking of which this will take place before then to avoid spoilers. I hope you like it!

- Avi

How could he have let this happen. It replayed every time he closed his eyes. What could he have done? If only he hadn’t left your side. 

SHIRO.” His name ripped through the sounds of battle. Blood ran from your leg and the shallow cut on your neck from the Galran prince’s sword. He tried to get to you.

“One more step and I’ll spill this one’s blood. It wouldn’t take much.” He added a small amount of pressure to your neck. You cried out. It wasn’t enough to kill you, but he wouldn’t hesitate to do so. 

Shiro stood there. It took all his willpower not to move. He had to watch as Lotor movedand boarded his ship. He had to watch as he took you with him.

He gripped the panel tighter. He hadn’t slept. All his energy went into finding you. The others had to coax him into eating and sleeping. Sleep was harder. Every time he did there you were. Blood dripping from a slit throat and checks stained with dried tears. Blaming him. The others missed you too. There was a grim atmosphere blanketing the castle.

He started to go crossed eyed when the alarm blared. Everyone went into battle mode. The paladins ran to their lions. 

“Is that…”Lance started. He motioned with his lions to a ship leaving the cruiser.  It was one he remember all to well. Lotor. 

He started for it. Firing as rage crowded his vision. The others yelling became muffled.

“Shiro (Y/n) isn’t on there!” Keith voice broke through.


“The castle scanned it. No humans.” 

Shirt stopped. He could kill Lotor another day. Getting you out was more important. He turned to the attacking ship.“Draw it’s fire. I’m going in.”

The others followed the orders without hesitation. He broke in. Running through the halls to the prison section. Each cell door he broke led to emptiness until he came to the end. There you were. Chained up, curled in the corner, your cuts had become scabs and your body thinner from malnourishment.

 You had covered your face with your arms when the door broke. He smashed the chain. Gingerly he took your hands away. You looked at him wide eyed for a moment before letting out a sob and launching  yourself at him. He held onto you firmly, but also like you were made of glass. He picked you up and ran to his lion.

Back at the castle everyone was glad to see you back. He only let go of you to wash and get into clean, warm clothes.

Imagine: Loki coming into your chambers. Determinated to take you

Originally posted by turntofactsmyfantasies


I’m sorry if this sucks, but this was my first time writing smut. So please don’t hate me and I’m also sorry for grammar mistakes ‘cause there might be some because English ain’t my native language xD


You were changing to your  white night gown.You heard a sound behind you. It was someone trying to open your chamber’s doors. You (ofc) panicked and took a sword, you kept in your room in case of intruders, into your hand and pointed it towards the door.

You walked closer to the door as it opened. You positioned the sword at the intruder’s throat.. You soon realized it was the prince of Asgard, Loki. You still didn’t put the sword down, but kept it at his throat.

-What’s your business in my PRIVATE chambers? You asked the prince, but got no answer. He only chuckled.

-What’s funny? You were clearly not amused by his behavior, but he still didn’t tell you his business.

-I never thought you had enough guts to actually threaten someone’s life, he chuckled and you glared at him.

-Oh, trust me. I could kill you in cold blood right now, you said taking the sword closer to his face.

-Can you just put it down already?! He asked, getting annoyed.

-Not before you tell me, why are you here? You asked him. He didn’t answer you, but blushed. You were confused by this and got distracted. You put the sword down, even though you didn’t realize it first.

As soon as the sword was down, Loki pushed you to the wall. He started sucking your neck, trying to find your sweetspot. You moan as he found it and he stops immediately. He looked into your eyes with his ones full of lust.

He picked you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist. He kissed you, passionately. You kissed him back, as he grabbed your ass. You gasped and it gave him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue to your mouth. You two fought for domination. He won eventually. Or actually you gave up because you got tired of it.

Your back was still against the wall, but he slowly started moving towards the bed, making you lean onto him a bit. Your arms were around his neck as his hands were on under your ass.

He fell onto the bed. You on top of him. He rolled you so you were under him as he started to undress you from you gown. His hands went from the hem of your gown to your panties. He stopped there and pushed his hands under the gown. They went up to your breasts. He put on of his hand behind your back and unclipped your bra. He pulled it out and tossed it to the floor.

One of his hands caressed your breast and the other one tore your beautiful night gown to two, but that didn’t even cross your mind at the moment. The only thing in your mind was how good his hands felt on your skin.

-This is unfair, you said to Loki. He knew what you meant. He got up, away from the bed and started to strip in front of you. First it was his jacket that needed to go, then his shirt, pants and underwear. He did it slowly just to tease you.

-Is this alright then? he asked, teasingly. You only nodded and pulled him back to the bed. You started to make out as he laid you on your back on the bed and started to pound into you slowly first, but started to pick up pace.

You moaned into his mouth and felt your climax getting closer and closer. You felt his thrusts getting sloppy too.

-Cum for me, he said, taking his lips off of yours. 

Prince Ashton

Requested: Yes

Summary: You were a cliche rebellion princess. You know? The kind that liked sword fighting and all the adventurous things in life. Well one morning, an arrogant boy interrupts you and it takes everything in you to not kill him right then and there. Then later on that day- he just so happens to be someone important to your father.

Word Count: 1511

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anonymous asked:

Hello! I've only recently found your writing but I think it is fabulous! Could you please write how some of the men in the army would react if Corrin/Kamui (or gender less) got realllllyyy injured protecting them in battle? Preferably Xander, Leo, Takumi, Ryoma, Jakob, Niles, Kaze, etc. Pretty please and thank you!

Thank youu ;v;) And welcome! <3
I’ve never tried multiple approaches to a prompt before, *Camilla’s voice* let’s see how this goes!
… Wait, now that I think about it, that’s probably what the previous anon wanted, right? @_@ I’ll edit that now…


Even under Kamui’s command, Xander insisted on always stay at the front lines. “As crown prince, I cannot let others fulfill my duty of protecting my kingdom.” He replied every time she tried to talk him out.

That fight was no different. He was commanding the troops ordered to eliminate the enemy’s detachment before it reached the main force. Worried, Kamui rode beside him.

“This is simply a detachment, Kamui.” He said after spotting the enemy. “Our Commander should be preoccupied with the foe’s main force.”

Kamui snorted, speeding up her horse by his side. “You really don’t mean that, do you? Every fight is important if we’re to win this war.” She saw his smile, knowing she hit the mark. “You’re only trying to protect me.”

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Why Melisandre saw that Shireen Baratheon had to die... Theory

Originally posted by crownthefabulousperson

Spoilers, and feels, below. This one’s a long one, and I’ve added to it from the original post.

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your royal highness// prince hemmings

Pairing: Prince Luke+Reader

(A/N): hii! I’ve randomly gotten this idea after re watching Snow White for the billionth time. Just to clear things up, the story is based back in medieval times but will be spoken in today’s English because I can’t read or write Shakespeare to save my life  good luck coping with Luke feels bc he makes a fine hot prince


enjoy reading! I hope y’all will enjoy! (:

Fed up of his duties in the castle, all the young man wanted was to be alone for a few hours. He had everything that he could ask for; wealth, power, status, and kings from all kingdoms across the world asking for his hand in marriage with their daughters. 

Prince Luke Robert Hemmings, the most prized possession of the kingdom. With his charming looks and clever intelligence, making his father, the king proud. 

Luke’s skills during war were an added plus to his persona. He could shot an arrow in any situation and hit his target straight in the chest. He could pick up a sword like it was as light as a feather and wield it effortlessly, not fazed by his opponent. 

The young prince spent most of his life behind the castle walls, his family not wanting to take the chance of their son getting hurt or killed. The only time he was seen by his subjects were during religious holidays or special occasions. 

But tonight was different. 

Currently, it was the beginning of December, which meant the whole kingdom was covered with Christmas tress, lights, and hymns were heard throughout the small streets. Snow covered every inch of the ground and trees, making Luke feel warm despite the coldness surrounding him. 

Snow flakes blurred his vision, and he tried to blink them away. Luke was on his most trusted horse; an all white horse with a beautiful mane, naming him Apollo. He was a present for his eighteenth birthday, the two quickly bonding together and Luke liked to talk to share his feelings with Apollo even though the horse couldn’t understand what he was saying.

Luke had sneaked out of the castle right after supper, ditching his royal attire for a plain wardrobe and coat. 

He had to be home in a few hours before they had noticed that he was gone or all hell would break loose. But on the other hand, Luke could do whatever he wanted, no not because he was punk rock. Because he was a prince. 

Apollo slowly trotted into the center of town, the town square full of joy and warmth despite the snow. Lanterns and fire pits were around each corner. Children were playing, laughter filling the air. 

The chances of the subjects recognizing Luke were slim, as no one was really allowed close to him. It was all a namesake, everything surrounded his name and status. 

The one thing that stood out most to him was a couple shyly holding hands and the complete look of affection that they were giving each other whilst sitting on the ledge of the enormous water fountain in the middle of the square. T

he teenager was whispering sweet nothings into her ear as the girl giddily wrapped her arms around him. 

Luke had princesses practically in line to get a chance to dance with him at the royal balls. Occasionally, his tall and strong build would make him step on their toes, making them furious. But no one could resist a smirk and a sorry whispered into their ear by him. He wasn’t going lie, they were all gorgeous and pretty.

Different gowns, too much make up, over done hair, the smell of strong perfume; he just wanted someone simple. Not sophisticated.

He wanted to know the feeling of truly feeling infatuated with someone. Snapping back to reality, Luke quickly got off of Apollo and stroked his mane, finding a place to tie him up. 

Shoving his hands into the coat pockets, Luke’s oceanic blue eyes scanned the various small shops and houses as he kicked the snow. Running his hands through his messy blonde locks, screams and shouts of several men could be heard in the distance.

Looking behind him, he squinted his eyes to find a girl with brown hair running as fast as her feet could go, sheer fear evident on her face.

Trailing right behind her, was a group of men with torches high in the air.

A gash was noticeable on her left leg, which seemed like it had just happened moments before because the of the rate of blood oozing out. The girl wasn’t wearing a coat and wore torn up shoes. The dress was covered with spots of dust, the old cotton wearing out. 

In a blink of an eye, the girl shoved Luke out of the way in an attempt to get away from the group of men.

Confused, he just stood there trying to grasp what was happening. A part of grew in anger because no one could miss handle him like that. Another part was growing in sympathy. 

Watching the scene unfold, Luke quietly watched the girl run a few more feet before she stumbled over a few stray rocks and landed straight on her face. 

A strangled cry of pain escaped her lips as she saw the shadows of the approaching. She had to get up, for her brother. Shooting up on her feet, the cold ice didn’t faze her.

A minute too late, her arms were suddenly grabbed behind her by dirty hands.

“Leave me alone!” She yelled as she struggled to get out of his grasp. Her heart was beating against her chest and her breathing was stopped.

Luke felt anger grow inside of him. His fists were balled up tightly, ready to fight. This was no way to treat a woman. Eyes dark, he was ready to kill. Trying to kick the man holding her, she thought that they were over doing it.

All she did was take a small loaf of bread without paying for it. Not a big, right? Suddenly, a young blonde man with pale skin shot in front of her. He looked into her brown eyes for a split second before ripping her away and shoving her to the ground.

Overly confused, she wiped the the snow from the face as she watched her blonde savior threaten the attackers. His tall and muscular build seemed to belittle the group of older men as he pulled out a small but dangerous knife from his coat.

Luke’s weapon was unrelenting; it was long and sleek, creating a precise cut no matter the circumstances. The dagger glimmering under the light of the moon. 

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Posted with Permission from the artist @orenjimaru

Larger Version Here: https://twitter.com/orenjimaru/status/787907942708158466

(Saw this in the R76 discord this morning and wanted to write a drabble for it so here goes…)

The prince was gone. The Queen’s servant banged on his door before dawn, frantic and shouting about the missing heir. Reports of a young, upstart male griffin in search of his own harem increased over the last few weeks and  as a precaution those mounts given free reign of the kingdom were locked down, sequestered to the castle’s stables until the threat could be ascertained. Unfortunately Gabriel’s mount’s nest hatched already. The fledgling was too small to fly or move from the nest. Anytime he had tried to get close the mother griffin snapped, aggressive in the defense on her young. Gabriel left her be but maintained a guard over the nest. The report of the rogue griffin grew in that time but he never saw the creature appear. That day the Queen called him back to the castle. When the meeting was concluded it was too dark and dangerous to return to the nest. He had stayed in his chambers.

Now the prince was gone and, if what the servant said was true, the man was last seen leaving through the kitchens towards the aerie. Gabriel barked as to why no one stopped the Royal when they saw him. The answer was a cowering excuse: they thought the prince was merely going for a stroll around the castle ground. That alone was a common enough occurrence but with the added threat of an aggressive griffin roaming the lands, Gabriel assumed the servants would contain the common sense to not let their Crown Prince wander around at night. 

His mottled white, brown and black mount, saddled up and prancing, waited outside the stable. She was almost frantic, tossing her head while the stable hands tried to keep her from flying off. Her wings - massive soft white decorated in overlapping black lines - flared out, attempting to take off. Securing his gauntlets, Gabriel grabbed the reins from the nearest stable hand, dismissing the anxious boys and swinging himself into the saddle. One of the young men offered a tunic that belonged to the prince. His mount sniffed the cloth, jerking her head and hesitantly backpedaled. She had the scent. 

Without hesitation she took off and the duo were in the air in seconds. He felt her wings pushing against the air underneath of his thighs, adjusting the stirrups while he wrapped his fingers into the heavy feathers along her neck. Gabriel let her lead. They flew straight to her nest. Inwardly he was calling the prince every name under the sun for this foolish course of action. There was no sign of the beast ravaging the outskirts of the kingdom. Small blessings. The sigh of relief he had been about to breath was cut short. 

Shadowed by the overlaying boughs of thick foliage, the prince was hunched over the squealing, squirming fledgling. Gabriel’s mount strained against his hold. The imposing, massive figure of the male griffin circled around the heir. The man was hurt. From his point of view, Gabriel could make out a deep slice across Jack’s thigh. The blood colored the underside of the fledgling’s white feathers were it wriggled against the prince’s hold. Jack’s sword was nowhere to be seen. 

Gabriel growled a curse, urging his mount down and landing harshly. The rogue griffin reared at the intruders, shrieking at the knight and the female griffin. Cursing again, Gabriel dismounted, released his mount and watched her charge forward, flair up, screaming at the male to back off. His mount and the wild intruder fell into a ball of fury, feathers and fur. She could take care of herself. Gabriel drew his own sword, nonetheless he kept a watchful eye in case he needed to intervene. He took up a stance between the prince and the battling griffins. It didn’t take long, his mount taking a chunk out of the male’s hide that sent the wild creature limping, trilling and running away. 

“Give him here,” Gabriel took the squealing fledgling from the prince. He set the baby down. The youngster bounded across the space to stand underneath of his mother. “The Queen is going to kill me.” Gabriel shook his head, dropped his cloak and tore off a handful of stripes of cloth. 

“That was a beautiful cloak.” Jack fell back onto his rear, extending his leg for Gabriel to view the damage.

“It can be replaced. You,” Gabriel reached up, swatting the prince’s nose with a bloodied finger. “Can’t be replaced. What are you doing out here in the first place?” 

“The reports about a male griffin had me curious. I knew your mount had a nest out here.” Jack looked away, wincing as the bandages tightened around the injury to his thigh. “I wanted to make sure the baby was alive.” 

Gabriel shook his head, wiping his hands on the grass before offering a hand up. Jack took it. Swinging the prince’s arm around his shoulders, the knight adjusted the way he bore Jack’s weight. They could not both fit on his mount. She could only carry one person and her offspring. Calling her over, Gabriel hoisted Jack into the saddle and handed the fledgling up to the blond. 

“I can walk.” Jack protested from the saddle, brows drawing down in annoyance. Gabriel patted the calf closest to him and chuckled. 

“I’m not carrying your heavy ass anywhere. You’ll ride. It is bad enough the Queen is going to chew me out for returning her precious son in less than perfect shape.” Gabriel grabbed the reins, turning his mount’s head away from where she was trying to preen at the baby in Jack’s hands. 

“I’m sorry.” Jack shifted to adjust better in the saddle, his feet hanging limp over each side of the saddle. The wriggling, trilling chick in his arms did not help when the occasional claw caught and dug into the fresh thigh wound. Jack jerked his leg, wincing each time those sharp talons touched the bandages.

“Don’t be. Not every day I get to rescue a damsel in distress,” Gabriel laughed, full and throaty. His metal boot found the stirrup, hoisted himself up and place a chaste kiss to the prince’s cheek. He followed the gesture with a pat from his gauntlet to the exact spot his lips had been. “Now stop apologizing. I need to get you home before they send the troops after both our asses.” Gabriel led the way, laughing again when Jack’s face blossomed a beautiful tinge of red.

@namasteblade wanted an Arranged Marriage AU.

  The sounds of wood clattering and warriors grunting fills the air. Dirt is kicked up as feet thump on the training grounds. A man falls, crying out in pain. His arm is broken. Another thuds to the earth, a dirt cloud rising around him. He won’t be getting back up any time soon. Hopefully he won’t have too bad a concussion. A low grunt and another warrior goes flying, bouncing across the ground. Once he comes to a stop he just lays there, dazed eyes staring at the sky.

  “M’lord! M’lord!” Comes a shout, cutting through the clatter. A messenger boy comes with the sound, legs pumping as he runs. In his eagerness to give his message, the boy runs right into the sparring ring and up to the recipient of this missive.

  Other warriors are already backing away from the man in the centre, all sporting injuries of some kind, while he is unharmed. His back is to the boy, wooden practice sword loose in his grip and other hand wrapped around another warriors throat.

  “Nice try, Oyuun, but you’re starting to get predictable,” He rumbles, releasing the struggling warrior. “You a-“

  “M’lord Endless!” The boy is right behind him now.

   Nergüi the Endless spins, a snarl on his lips and wooden sword swinging out. The weapon stops an inch from the boy’s head, who cowers back in fear, awe and terror mixing on his features. The Endless frowns down at the boy, chest heaving and sweat drenching his skin. He may not have been injured in that bout but he sure worked himself. The sword lowers.

  “What?” He growls, brows still furrowed but eyes losing their killing edge.

  “Th-the Indian Prince is here to … to treat with you.”

  “Already?” The frown deepens and eyes go skyward to check the passage of the sun. “But I thought … Mmmm, guess I lost track of time.” The wooden sword is thrust into a warrior’s hands and Nergüi starts to stride off, continuing to speak to the boy as he hurries to catch up, “Take him to the command tent and tell him to wait. I’ll be there shortly.”

  The boy nods and runs off to do as he is instructed. A warrior falls in beside Nergüi. This man looks more senior than the others, grey peppering his dark hair, beard long and braided. Bushy eyebrows furrow at the Endless, a look of concern on his face.

  “You mean to make him wait?” He croaks.

  “Of course, Muunokhoi. Can’t meet a prince while shirtless and smelling of sweat and dirt. Wouldn’t want to give him another reason to see us as barbaric. Besides,” A grin moves across his features. “I want him to squirm for a while.”