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diavolosthots · 3 years

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DARK DECEPTION CHAPTER 14

READ CHAPTER 13 HERE

Warnings: none

Pairing(s): Lucifer x F!Reader, Michael

“Michael.” The name left your lips as if you had known him for forever, but the almost weird look he gave you meant that you did not, in fact, know him forever. He wasn’t mad, per se, but he wasn’t happy either. Maybe that’s just his face, though? God you hoped it was because if not then you feared this was all your fault. Lucifer’s grip on your waist tightened momentarily before he wrapped his coat tighter around you, almost protectively. He didn’t trust Michael and he hated that he needed to ask him for help, but it’s worth it if it meant you’re safe. “Yes, that’s my name. I assume Lucifer told you all about me.” Oh Lord no. You almost wanted to laugh at that assumption. Does he even know Lucifer? The guy would rather keep everything to himself than ever spill anything. Maybe he wasn’t like that as an angel? Was Lucifer that much different back then? You truly wondered. “He… didn’t say a lot, if we’re being completely honest. It’s still nice to meet you though.” Michael still gave you that expressionless face and it almost calmed you. Maybe it truly was just who he is. “Likewise, but sadly I’m not here to talk over tea.” Who would’ve thought.

Lucifer looked at you and gently pushed you off of him and stood up from his chair, “stay here. Don’t go anywhere. We’ll b--!” “no. She can stay, after all, it concerns her as well.” Oh he didn’t like that at all. The plan was to keep you out of it as much as possible and yet, Michael seemed to completely disregard that. “The Devildom isn’t happy about their Queen being gone.” You wanted to roll your eyes, really. Their Queen? You never even said hi to those people after the wedding. You didn’t even meet most of the people at the wedding! “Well they can get used to it.” Lucifer whipped his head toward you and if this wasn’t such a serious matter, he might have found you cute in his oversized coat right now, pouting, no. Frowning. Even Michael managed to crack a small smile, “I’m afraid it isn’t that simple. Diavolo declared war and although I doubt he knows exactly where she is right now, he’s sure to figure it out. You need to stop him. I’m not putting the celestial realm at risk.” Lucifer knew that much. He knew this would only be a temporary solution but he still hoped to avoid that. Even now, Diavolo did help him a lot after the fall, after everything, and although their friendship never meant as much to himself as it did to Diavolo, Lucifer did choose this route and he didn’t calculate the consequences. Well, he did, but he wasn’t, shamefully admitted, prepared.

“I know, Michael, and I’m not asking you to. I just need you to keep her safe.” No matter what. He’s trying to be realistic here, he has to be. Seven brothers against an army of Demons and their strongest fighter, their King, is almost laughable. Can you even imagine it? Lucifer has to prepare for the worst possible outcome and sadly, the chances for it far outweigh the good outcome. Michael knows that, too, which is why he made Lucifer an offer earlier, one he never declined or accepted, “You know what I said, Lucifer. It’s all up to you.” All up to him. He’s used to that; he deals with that every day. All his brothers, in one way or another, rely on him. Everyone relies on him. And yet, he doesn’t like that this decision weighs on his shoulders right now. He doesn’t want to think about that scenario, but it’s also so, so hard to be optimistic. “I know. Thank you. I’ll… prepare.” Because that’s all he can do. “We still have your armor, if you want it.” His armor… so many bad memories circle around that thing and although he used to wear it with pride, it will never be like it once was. “Thank you, Michael.” Does it still fit? Still protect him? Will it keep him safe long enough to do what needs to be done?

You watched the two men in front of you, confused and scared. Obviously there’s a lot of history between them, history that you will never understand; could never understand. You didn’t dare speak until Michael left again either, glancing at you before turning on his heel, “Lucifer?” Your voice was soft and it almost hurt his heart. His head turned to look over you, cozy in his coat which didn’t fit the bright room at all; just another reminder that this isn’t where he belongs anymore. “I’m sorry, Darling… I know this is confusing.” Confusing? “Diavolo just declared war and you think that’s confusing me? That’s the clearest part about this! Don’t tell me you’re thinking of fighting after I just got you back!?” His eyes said everything and it was enough to make tears form again in yours, threatening to spill over. His eyes went wide after that and he’s quick to pull you into his arms, pushing your face into his chest. It hurts to see you like that and he knows you’ll be worried. He knows it’ll kill you even if it doesn’t kill him.

“I have to… I’m not letting you go back there, (Y/N).” “You don’t even have an army!” You wanted to punch him, to scream at him, to pull at his hair until some type of sense entered his brain, but you didn’t. Instead, you pulled away to look at him with anger and sadness and hurt, “I can’t lose you, Lucifer….” “You won’t.” “You don’t know that!” You’re right… he doesn’t know that. He doesn’t know anything, and unlike Barbatos, he can’t see the future, which is another part that worries him. “Maybe Michael knows something….” it was mumbling, meant so more for himself. He forced a smile, cupping your face and leaning down to kiss you softly, “I’m going, (Y/N). I have to. My brothers are down there and I’m not sure how long they can last without me… You’ll be safe up here. Michael promised.” He better keep that promise too. That’s the only time Lucifer begged and the only thing Lucifer ever begged for. You shook your head, beating your fists against his chest, but he only leaned in to kiss your head. “I’m getting ready… help me?”

If you weren’t so caught up in the potential of losing him, you may have paused in shock at his request for help, but you can’t just let him run off! “Lucifer!” He let go of you to walk to his old closet, staring at the double white doors, adorned in gold. For the longest time, he just stared, almost too scared to open them, but he needed to get over himself. Gloved hands reached out for the knob, opening them both. Immediately, he was met with his old clothes. White and gold, like everything else. Pure. Elegant. An image of his past. And then there it was, his armor, pushed to the far end of the closet. It was pure gold and heavy, usually worn over his usual white outfit, but protecting. The chest plate would protect him from any immediate danger, the heavy boots would keep his feet light and energized; perks of celestial magic. Vambraces would keep his arms protected and, of course, there was a sword. He hated that thing, honestly, and he’s almost sure whoever invented this just put it in for decoration, but it might come in handy today.

Pulling it out almost felt too foreign. He only wore it once; that one time he fought for God and with the angels, but he trained in it often enough to know what it feels like. He stared at it, almost sadly, before taking all the pieces and laying them on his bed, shifting into his demon form. Even now, even up here, he felt more comfortable in this than he ever did as an angel. “Lucifer… stop.” but he didn’t listen. He took off his long coat and anything else that might come in the way, putting the chest plate on first and then attaching the back to it. His wings fit in perfectly still, although the middle holes aren’t being filled anymore and he knew it. He could feel it. He hated it. “Lucifer!” Once again, he ignored you, putting on the boots that would cover him up to his knees. This definitely looked better when he wore white and his black pants are more than weird-feeling with these. Next were the vambraces, which thankfully still allowed him his gloves, and last but not least… “(Y/N). Give me the Sword.” You shook your head, holding the golden weapon tightly and off to the side when Lucifer reached for it.

“No! You’re not leaving!” “(Y/N).” “This is a suicide mission Lucifer!” He knew that. He knew that all too well. “I can’t let him win, (Y/N).” “W-we… we can figure it out! Don’t go! I’m sure that Michael--!” “(Y/N)!” He raised his voice, stern. He wasn’t mad at you, he knows you’re hurting, but he can’t waste anymore time and it at least got you to stop. He reached for the sword again, taking it out of your grasp and clasping it to his belt. “I’ll be fine.” He may not be but he won’t admit that. Your eyes were wide in shock; he had never yelled at you, no matter how mad he was. “Lucifer….” “It’s okay.” He pulled you back into him, kissing your head again before just resting his cheek against it, “I love you, Darling. I’ll be back before you know it.” You pulled back from him, the tears spilling again as fear rushed through you, “promise… promise me you’ll be back…..” His eyes were expressionless, searching yours before kissing you once more and finally stepping back, heading toward the door with only one thing left to say.

“I promise.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #lucifer x mc #obey me lucifer #lucifer obey me #lucifer avatar of pride #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me lord diavolo #shall we date diavolo #obey me diavolo #lord diavolo x mc #obey me diavolo x reader #michael obey me #dark deception

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obeyme-kaidii-writes · 3 years

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Lonely

Leviathan x gn!MC

Words - 2678

Content Warnings - NSFW, Smut, Masturbation, Tail Sex, some angst, lots of comfort

Prompt/Inspiration - I’m horny for Levi’s tail and I love to make him cry. That is all.

Summary - You return to the human realm for a quick trip, so a very lonely Levi decides to entertain himself in your absence.

AO3

Levi was lonely.

Until he met you, he hadn’t realized just how much fun it was to have another person around. He had spent most of his time in his room, and his closest friends were people he met through his online anime forums. And even then he struggled to find others that truly understood him, so he often felt out of place there too.

But with you? He felt like he could really be himself. Even if you didn’t understand what he was so excited about, you always supported and encouraged him. You’d frequently surprise him with little presents like keychains of favorite characters from his favorite shows, so he knew you were always listening.

You were also patient with him as he learned to navigate the world of 3D relationships. When he couldn’t figure out what he wanted to say, you’d help him find the right words. And you’d forgive him when he made mistakes (and he felt he made a lot of mistakes).

Today though, he was all alone. You were gone.

Well, not GONE gone.

You had gone back to the human realm for a couple days to visit your family.

Don’t get hung up on the details ok? Point is, he was alone and you weren’t there and he missed you a lot.

So he did the only thing he could think to do - pulled out his favorite naughty dating sim (the kind he would rather die than ever play with you) and keep himself entertained. It wasn’t long though before he was touching himself and imagining himself in all sorts of compromising positions. He started to think about how fun some of these things would be to try with you (not that he had any idea how to mention them without sounding like a pervert).

After a while of flirting with and seducing his favorite character (who honestly bore an uncanny resemblance to you), he was desperate for something more and shifted to his demon form to make use of his tail. Not wanting to soil his favorite pillows, he moved to the floor and got down on his knees, burying his face in his arms, with his ass in the air. His tail was wrapped firmly around his cock, and began thrusting into it.

As he got closer to his climax, he adjusted the position of his tail and carefully lined the tip up with his entrance, before slipping it inside and pumping it roughly in and out. It felt so unbelievably good that he could almost swear you were there with him. In no time at all, he was coming completely undone. Moaning your name, and babbling incoherently, as the thrusts of his hips and the rhythm of his tail pushed him nearer and nearer to the edge.

When he finally came, it was with a loud, whimpering moan, as his cum spilled to the floor.

————

As far as Levi was concerned, you were in fact going to visit your family.

But that wasn’t quite the truth.

The actual purpose of your trip was to sneak away so you could surprise your adorable otaku boyfriend with some collectors items you knew he had been desperately searching for.

In a bizarre twist of events, you learned that you actually had a cousin who was part of the production staff for one of his favorite anime. When they were preparing for their recent move, they came across their stash of memorabilia from that job, and reached out to you to see if you’d be interested in taking it off their hands. Of course you immediately jumped at this opportunity, knowing just how happy it would make Levi when you showed up at his door, arms full of all manner of swag and one of a kind merchandise that only someone with inside connections could possibly acquire.

So when you came home earlier than planned, you opened Levi’s door and let yourself inside, without giving it a second thought.

The sight that greeted you made you blush so violently, that you were sure there was steam coming from your ears. Your sweet, precious boyfriend was on all fours, simultaneously masturbating and fucking his tail, moaning your name, completely oblivious to your presence.

If you had been dating someone like Asmodeus, you could have simply walked up to him and asked to join in. With Levi, however, you were pretty sure he’d die of shame on the spot and that would be it. You knew you needed to leave, and quickly, so that he was none the wiser.

But as you stood there, trying to figure out how best to make your escape, Levi came and your mind just went blank.

And before you knew it, he was sitting back on his legs, lifting his head and staring straight into your eyes. He didn’t seem to see you at first, almost like he thought you were an orgasm induced hallucination, but as the seconds ticked by, his eyes grew wide and he blushed an even deeper shade of red than the one you were currently sporting.

“Ummm...honey, I’m home?” you said with a small, nervous laugh.

It took Levi another second to react, and when he did he let out some awkward high pitched squawk as he scrambled to hide himself behind his tub, pulling his legs tightly to his chest, and wrapping his tail around his torso.

“Wh-wh-what are you doing here?! You were supposed to be gone for TWO DAYS! TWO DAYS!!”

His mind had started to shut down the moment he realized you were standing in his doorway. How long had you been there? How much had you seen? There was no way for him to know, so of course he assumed the worst. He desperately wished the ground would open up beneath him and just pull him down to a lower layer of hell where he could live out his days in solitude.

“Well…SURPRISE! I guess…”, you laughed awkwardly again as you turned around and locked the door behind you.

“I erm...come bearing gifts...I picked up some things that I thought you’d like. There’s this one…”

“Please. Stop.” Levi cut you off, unable to conceal the trembled in his voice as he tried to fight off tears.

“...Levi?”

“Just go. You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to be nice to me.”

“Nice to you? Levi what are you talking about?”, you were a little confused now. Yeah you had walked in on him in an extremely awkward position, but you were his romantic partner after all. It’s not like you hadn’t seen him naked before, not to mention the fact the two of you had sex on a pretty regular basis. You assumed he would be embarrassed, that was a given, but you figured he’d at least talk to you after he was calm, even if it took a few hours. Not shut you out entirely.

“You saw didn’t you? So you don’t need to stay.”

“Levi, babe, I’m really not following here. Why would I leave? I just got back.”

“...please. Please don’t make me say it.”

You were sure he was crying now, so you carefully set down the bags in your arms and made your way towards him, grabbing an oversized blanket from the floor near the TV on your way. Slowly, you took a seat on the floor with your back to the tub, just around the corner from where Levi was sitting. You were close enough to touch if he reached out to you, but also far enough away that you couldn’t see him without turning around.

“Hey, sweetheart, I think you’re misunderstanding something here,” you kept your voice low as you spoke, not wanting to scare him now that you were so close. Reaching behind you to where he was, you offered him the blanket you had grabbed earlier, “Here. You can cover yourself up with this.”

Without saying a word, Levi took the blanket from you and bundled himself up. He felt a bit more comfortable now that he wasn’t completely exposed, but he was still anxious and on edge. It was impossible for him to relax with you still here when he knew it was only a matter of time before you started asking him questions he absolutely did not want to answer, before finally leaving him to his depravity.

“It was umm...kinda hot, you know…” you offered, cautiously, testing the waters to see how he’d react. You really wanted to reassure him, but you also didn’t want to make him retreat further into his shell.

“...you don’t mean that.”

“Of course I do. You know I love your tail. And who doesn’t want to hear their partner moaning their name?”

“...you’re weird.”

You gave a small laugh at his reply. He seemed to be warming up a bit, so you reached behind you again and offered him your hand, “Can I hold your hand? Please?”

When he didn’t reply, your heart started to sink, but just as you were about to pull away, you felt his fingertips touching yours. Carefully you laced your fingers together, resting your hands on the floor.

“I love you, you know that?”

“....I love you too,” he whispered. Levi wasn’t sure why you were still here, but he couldn’t deny that he was thankful for it. He knew he was gross. He had tried to warn you. But you always laughed it off, telling him you loved even those parts he considered “yucky.” Would you still be able to say that now? Could you still look at him the same?

“So, I have a surprise for you. That’s what I was really out doing today…turns out I have a cousin who works at the studio where some of your favorite anime were produced. Small world huh?”

Oh? Levi had perked up a little upon hearing that. He knew you were trying to distract him, but maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. Anything to avoid talking about what you had walked in on.

“Do you think I could come over there and show them to you?”

Levi tensed. You wanted to...come over...here? To his side of the tub? That means you’d see his face. He’d have to look at you too. But he really wanted to see what you had brought...especially if it was something exclusive that only the production team could have gotten.

“...alright...I guess that would be ok...just don’t look at me…”

You gave his hand a firm squeeze before standing up and retrieving your bags near the door. You really hoped he liked what you had found. Part of you worried that the impact of your “big reveal” would be dampened by the preceding events, but another part of you knew that there was no surer way to help Levi relax than to get him going about his favorite subject.

Taking a seat next to him, you made sure to keep your eyes forward and resisted the urge to look at him. You wanted nothing more than to wrap him up in a big hug, but you weren’t quite sure he was ready for that yet. So instead, you carefully removed the items one at a time and handed them to him.

As he looked over each thing carefully, you could feel the joy starting to radiate off of him. His mood was quickly shifting, and soon he was rambling like normal about the significance behind certain things, explaining who the characters were, and their voice actors. A soft smile spread across your face, and you gently leaned against him, resting your head on his shoulder.

Levi paused for a moment when he noticed the weight of your body pressed against him. He had gotten so caught up in his explanation that he had almost forgotten about the events leading up to this. Doubts started to enter his mind again, wondering what you had to think of him.

“Are you...are you disgusted with me…?”, his voice trailed off into a whisper as he fidgeted with the DVD case in his hands.

“No Levi, I am not disgusted with you. I told you it was pretty hot didn’t I? I meant that.”

Your voice sounded so soothing to his ears. It was like you were reaching into his very soul and calming the storm of anxiety within him. Maybe he could believe you. You hadn’t lied to him before. And you were a couple. If he couldn’t trust you, who could he trust?

He rested his cheek on the top of your head and breathed in your scent, feeling the tension leave his body.

“You know…”, you started, “maybe you could do the same to me sometime.”

“Do the...same…! You can’t just say things like that!”

You laughed at his reaction. That’s what he was getting embarrassed about now? Oh you sweet, precious boy.

“Why are you getting all shy on me again? I’d think everything else would be a cake walk at this point.”

“Th-that’s not how it works and you know it!”

Chuckling you answered him, “Alright then how about this. You lay in the tub like a good boy...and I fuck myself on your tail...while you watch...would that be less embarrassing?”

“...nothing about this conversation is less embarrassing.”

Levi was blushing again by now, but for an entirely different reason from earlier. Somehow you had managed to ease him into it and get him talking about things he had thought were better left forgotten. And not only had you managed to get him to talk, you were now flirting and laughing with him like there was nothing unusual at all about this situation.

“But you like it, don’t you? Knowing that I’m just as perverted as you?”

“....maybe.”

“Hey. I want to look at you.”

“....fine…” he sighed. Levi didn’t want to admit it, but he was getting more than a bit excited by this discussion. He was imagining you stuffed full of his tail, riding him while he caressed your body. And since everything was all out in the open now, he no longer needed to worry about rejection. At least so far as fucking you with his tail was concerned.

You raised your head to look at Levi for the first time since he hid behind the tub. He had his head tilted down slightly, concealing much of his face with his bangs. You giggled seeing him like that, before reaching forward and bringing his head towards you, pressing a kiss to the top.

“I love you,” you reminded him again, slowly pulling back so you could try to make eye contact. When he still wouldn’t look at you, you kissed him on the cheek with a smile. You loved seeing him blushing like this. He was just so, so cute.

“Hey, why don’t we go shower now and get you cleaned up? Hmm? Maybe take a bath? It would be a good way to relax I think.” You were cupping his cheek now, stroking it with your thumb. Levi looked at you out of the corner of his eyes, debating whether he should take you up on your offer. On the one hand a bath did sound really good. On the other, you’d definitely notice his erection if he stood up now. Hadn’t he embarrassed himself enough for one day?

“I’ll make it worth your while,” you teased, kissing his cheek again, “Maybe you could show me some other things you’d like to try.”

He didn’t think it possible, but Levi felt himself grow harder. You had to be doing this to him on purpose. What was he thinking? Of course you were. You lived for this. Nothing brought you greater pleasure than making him blush while turning him on.

“...fine…”

“Do you think you could stay in your demon form too? I’d like your tail to join us.”

Fuck. You were going to be the death of him.

#gn!mc #levi smut #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me levi #levi x mc #obey me fanfic #obey me smut #levi fanfic

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rhaella · 5 years

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The Weight of Living

(read on ao3)

At every opportunity she finds, Arya likes to ride beyond the walls of Winterfell.

It’s not that she doesn’t love her home. Every day she is grateful to be there, to see Sansa with her two daughters, one of whom resembles Arya so strongly she gets mistaken as her own. To have Bran and Rickon back after so many years of thinking them dead.

And Jon, who still musses her hair at every opportunity like they are children and tells her he’s making up for all the time they lost.

But Winterfell has ghosts as well.

Sometimes she looks down at the training yard and can swear she sees Robb, swinging his practice sword and laughing. Robb was always laughing. Or she’ll walk by Mother and Father’s chambers, which have remained untouched since the Starks reclaimed their home, and hear her mother sweet singing and find herself pressing her ear against the door. Or she’ll see Jon from across a room and for a split second mistake his face for her father’s. Jon bears even more resemblance to him now than he did in his youth, especially as he grows ever-nearer to the age Father was when he died.

There are also ghosts in those who survived.

Sometimes she’ll catch Sansa wearing Mother’s dress as she brushes through her squirming daughter’s curls, trying to recreate a time long gone. She’ll see a haunted, empty look in Bran’s eyes, as though he’s lost in time. Rickon has never grown out of his skittishness and mistrust, and everyone has learned to walk loudly if coming up behind him to avoid startling him. And sometimes Arya will join Jon as he sits sleepless all through the night, staring at a spot on the wall and tracing the scars on his abdomen through his clothes.

All the Starks will wake up screaming most nights, panicked and sweating from some terrible memory playing on their eyelids. More often than not, they’ll all migrate to Jon’s bedchamber at some point in the night and end up piled in his oversized bed, curled into each other while Jon keeps his vigil. Sansa’s ever-patient husband has grown used to waking up alone by now.

The riding helps Arya clear her mind. The ghosts cannot touch her while she races through the woods, her hair whipping in the wind.

She’ll pick a direction and ride until she comes across some village where no one knows her name and she’ll walk through it, greeting its residents and asking to help them if she can. Sometimes it will just be buying fabrics from the women who spin them, or offering food and coin to hungry children. Other times she’ll help women cook, or weave, or repair their houses. Once, she ended up spending an entire day picking turnips in a elderly farmer’s field and had come home aching and sunburnt. He had offered her pay for her labor, but she’d only asked for a basket of turnips and had pressed several gold dragons in his palm, leaving him gaping behind her.

Today, on her way into a new town, she sees a few little girls playing a pretend game in the grass. She smiles, remembering when she and Jon had played as knights, with Sansa as the damsel and Robb her dragon. But she pays the girls little mind as she ties her horse to a tree, until she hears her own name being spoken.

She moves a bit closer to them to hear better, quietly and with her head turned so as not to scare them.

“I want to be Ser Brienne this time. I was Arya Stark last time,” the smallest girl with tangled brown hair whines.

“Well I’m the oldest and biggest,” says a girl with long, copper hair. “Ser Brienne was a fearsome warrior, and big as a giant. A little wisp like you could never slay the dead as she did.”

Arya dares a glance at the group.

The little one’s face is red as she glares at the older girl. “It isn’t my fault you were born first!” she cries. “I’ll tell Mother how you’re being bossy again!”

The third girl, a blonde, is stifling giggles. “You two can argue over who gets to be Arya and Brienne, but I will always be Queen Dany,” she says.

Arya finds herself approaching them. They look up at her with curious eyes, but don’t look afraid. They don’t even give a second glance to her clothes or the sword at her belt. These girls are young enough not to have known a world where women can’t wear breeches or carry a weapon.

“Hello,” Arya says, squatting to be at their level. “What are your names?”

The older girl takes it upon herself to answer for the three of them. “My name is Jeyne. This is Alys,” she says pointing at the blonde beside her. “And this little pest,” she says, gesturing to the little one, “is my sister Nym.”

“Named for the great wolf, leader of Arya Stark’s wolf pack!” she exclaims. Arya suddenly wishes she had brought Nymeria with her, if only to leave the little ones in awe. But she never brings Nymeria on her rides. She loves the feeling of being unknown, and traveling around with a giant wolf at her side would surely give away her identity.

“And she never lets us forget it,” Jeyne grumbles.

Arya only smiles. Sisterhood can be a trial, as she well knows. “I heard you talking about a game you’re playing. War for the Dawn, is it?”

“Yes,” the Jeyne says. “We always play as the women warriors. Mother always tells my sister and me stories about them and sings us their songs. Someday we will be great knights, too.”

“But I hope we never have to fight the dead!” Alys interjects. “I’m brave, but the Others sound so fearsome! I’d rather save a maiden from bad men who are living.”

“I would fight the dead!” little Nym insists, indignant. “I’m quick as a fox and would slash them apart faster than they can move their dead old hands to reach me.” She makes a slashing motion in the air.

Arya smiles. “I think the three of you would make fine defenders of the realm, and whatever else you want to become. Girls can do anything these days.”

If only she’d had someone to tell her this as a child, perhaps she wouldn’t have felt like such a misfit. She resolves to return to this village soon and bring the girls proper training swords to use in their games. Gods know there are enough in the armory, and too few children in Winterfell to use them.

“You know,” she says quietly, as if giving away a secret. The girls lean closer in tandem. “I knew Ser Brienne and Queen Daenerys. I fought alongside them in the war.”

The girls gasp, their eyes wide as saucers. “You fought the dead?” Alys asks.

“Yes,” Arya says, flashing a grin. “They were as fearsome as you say. If they were freshly dead, when you’d slay them you’d find yourself covered in sticky black blood.” Jeyne gasps. Nym leans closer, her eyes aglow.

“But the Others were most fearsome of them all. Cold and terrible with eyes the color of ice. And just when you were near to finishing the wights,” Arya says, and waits, watching the girls biting their lips and squirming, “they’d swoop in and raise new dead from our fallen armies.” This time, even the littlest looks afraid.

She does not tell them how sometimes the dead would come back with the faces of those you loved, and you’d have to shove your blade through their ribs anyway. No time for tears, because soon enough another would be upon you. Gendry, she thinks, and wants to weep.

“W—what if they come back?” Alys asks, her voice trembling.

“They never will. We made sure of that.” She remembers the dawn, in all its beauty and terror, as it illuminated the mountains of bodies. She remembers collapsing, half in exhaustion and half in grief.

“What were Queen Daenerys and Ser Brienne like in the war?” the eldest asks, obviously wanting a change in subject.

“Queen Daenerys was beautiful. I remember seeing her fly far above on her great dragon. A dragon black as the night and bigger than your whole village. Her dragon would shoot fire down at all the dead, burning thousands at once, and she looked fierce as a dragon herself holding on to its back.” Arya pauses, wondering how much to tell them. “I got to pet her dragon once.”

“You’re a liar!” Nym cries. “A dragon would burn you to death if you dared touch it!”

Arya smiles. “Not me. The queen allowed it, and thankfully so did the dragon. Its scales were rough, like a lizard’s, but hot. I still have burns on my fingers from the heat,” she says, showing them the faded scars on her fingertips.

She considers Ser Brienne. Brienne, the first knighted woman in the realm, is dearer to her than most, and still makes frequent visits to Winterfell to see her and Sansa. There is so much that she could say about her that she almost cannot choose.

“Ser Brienne was the fiercest warrior I’ve ever known. Big, and so tall she towered over most grown men, and when she swung her Valyrian steel sword she’d slash four wights open at once.”

“Oathkeeper,” one child says, incredulous.

“A beautiful weapon,” Arya says. “Now it belongs to the Starks, as it was forged from their father’s. But Ser Brienne wielded it well. She was stronger than most men. She knocked Ser Jaime Lannister on his golden rump on more than one occasion. She was an honorable woman, too, and kind. The truest knight I’ve ever known, just like from the songs of old. But back then, women who tried to be warriors were mocked instead of loved.” Nym wrinkles her nose.

“You must have been a fierce warrior yourself,” Jeyne says, “to have survived. Were you ever scared?”

“We were all scared, always. Even Queen Daenerys and Ser Brienne. It is one thing to battle men, but entirely another to battle the dead. Only the stupid are brave and fearless. The strong are brave, despite their fear.”

Arya’s horse whinnies behind her and shakes her out of her memories. She looks up at the sky. It must be mid-afternoon now, and she should head back before it gets dark.

“Well, I’ll leave you to your game,” she says to the girls, whose mouths still hang open.

“Wait!” says the smallest child, Nym, lunging forward. “Before you go, did you ever meet Arya Stark?”

Arya grins now, tapping her fingers on Needle’s hilt.

“I am Arya Stark,” she says as she twirls on her heel and struts toward her horse, leaving the children gasping behind her.

She’ll go back to her ghosts. They’ll haunt her until the day she dies. But if all her suffering has given hope and choices to little girls like the one she once was, perhaps it is a burden she can bear.

#asoiaffic #gotfic #valyrianscrolls #(this is an asoiaf fic but i kept brienne being knighted because grrm can truly pry that from my cold dead hands)#((initially this was going to be a showverse fic bc of my headcanons about the implications of brienne's knighting #but then i decided bookverse deserved this more than showverse and i like who arya is in bookverse better anyway #so this happened))#arya stark #brienne of tarth #daenerys targaryen #other starklings mentioned #my fic #fic

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jet39moores · 7 years

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4 Secrets of Success From a High School Senior Who Got Into 5 Ivy League Schools

Choosing the right college is one of the biggest decisions you will have to make, and many hardworking students dream of getting into competitive, Ivy League schools.

There are several steps to getting into a prestigious college, and personal essays are a critical part of the application process. Figuring out a way to stand out from the crowd of thousands of applicants every year can be daunting, but one Concord High School senior did just that.

With an out-of-the-box approach to the essay portion of her college applications, Brittany Stinson was able to achieve the rare feat of getting into six of the top colleges in the country.

So, which schools was she able to get into with her powerhouse application?

The five Ivy League schools that sent her acceptance letters included:

Yale

Columbia

The University of Pennsylvania

Dartmouth

Cornell

To top off her incredible accomplishment, Brittany was also accepted into Stanford University. While not an Ivy League school, Stanford has the lowest rate of admission for any school on the list at a 4.69% acceptance rate.

While Brittany’s accomplishments may not be the typical experience, her unique approach to her admissions essay is something that every high school student should take into consideration. With a little creativity and determination, you too can stand out from the crowd and make your voice heard in the sea of competitive college applications.

What Can You Learn From Brittany Stinson’s Powerful Essay?

The following statement was the essay prompt that resulted in Brittany’s outstanding essay: “Some students have a background, identity, interest, or talent that is so meaningful they believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like you, then please share your story.”

Most students reading this prompt would generally fall back on a retelling of a dramatic or emotional event that changed an aspect of their lives. While this type of response can have a deep impact on admissions officers if told correctly, Brittany had a different approach. Below is the verbatim response that she gave for the aforementioned prompt:

Managing to break free from my mother’s grasp, I charged. With arms flailing and chubby legs fluttering beneath me, I was the ferocious two year old rampaging through Costco on a Saturday morning. My mother’s eyes widened in horror as I jettisoned my churro; the cinnamon-sugar rocket gracefully sliced its way through the air while I continued my spree. I sprinted through the aisles, looking up in awe at the massive bulk products that towered over me. Overcome with wonder, I wanted to touch and taste, to stick my head into industrial-sized freezers, to explore every crevice. I was a conquistador, but rather than searching the land for El Dorado, I scoured aisles for free samples. Before inevitably being whisked away into a shopping cart, I scaled a mountain of plush toys and surveyed the expanse that lay before me: the kingdom of Costco.

Notorious for its oversized portions and dollar- fifty hot dog combo, Costco is the apex of consumerism. From the days spent being toted around in a shopping cart to when I was finally tall enough to reach lofty sample trays, Costco has endured a steady presence throughout my life. As a veteran Costco shopper, I navigate the aisles of foodstuffs, thrusting the majority of my weight upon a generously filled shopping cart whose enormity juxtaposes my small frame. Over time, I’ve developed a habit of observing fellow patrons tote their carts piled with frozen burritos, cheese puffs, tubs of ice cream, and weightloss supplements. Perusing the aisles gave me time to ponder. Who needs three pounds of sour cream? Was cultured yogurt any more well-mannered than its uncultured counterpart? Costco gave birth to my unfettered curiosity.

While enjoying an obligatory hot dog, I did not find myself thinking about the ‘all beef’ goodness that Costco boasted. I instead considered finitudes and infinitudes, unimagined uses for tubs of sour cream, the projectile motion of said tub when launched from an eighty foot shelf or maybe when pushed from a speedy cart by a scrawny seventeen year old. I contemplated the philosophical: If there exists a thirty-three ounce jar of Nutella, do we really have free will? I experienced a harsh physics lesson while observing a shopper who had no evident familiarity of inertia’s workings. With a cart filled to overflowing, she made her way towards the sloped exit, continuing to push and push while steadily losing control until the cart escaped her and went crashing into a concrete column, 52” plasma screen TV and all. Purchasing the yuletide hickory smoked ham inevitably led to a conversation between my father and me about Andrew Jackson’s controversiality. There was no questioning Old Hickory’s dedication; he was steadfast in his beliefs and pursuits – qualities I am compelled to admire, yet his morals were crooked. We both found the ham to be more likeable–and tender.

I adopted my exploratory skills, fine tuned by Costco, towards my intellectual endeavors. Just as I sampled buffalo-chicken dip or chocolate truffles, I probed the realms of history, dance and biology, all in pursuit of the ideal cart–one overflowing with theoretical situations and notions both silly and serious. I sampled calculus, cross-country running, scientific research, all of which are now household favorites. With cart in hand, I do what scares me; I absorb the warehouse that is the world. Whether it be through attempting aerial yoga, learning how to chart black-body radiation using astronomical software, or dancing in front of hundreds of people, I am compelled to try any activity that interests me in the slightest.

My intense desire to know, to explore beyond the bounds of rational thought; this is what defines me. Costco fuels my insatiability and cultivates curiosity within me at a cellular level. Encoded to immerse myself in the unknown, I find it difficult to complacently accept the “what”; I want to hunt for the “whys” and dissect the “hows”. In essence, I subsist on discovery.

If that took a turn you weren’t expecting and grabbed your attention, you’re not the only one! Her innovative approach to describing her character strengths stood out enough to beat out thousands of other students applying to these prestigious schools.

So, how was she able to accomplish such an impressive feat? What can you take from her unique approach to craft your own home-run college essay?

Let’s go over four secrets to success that any high school student can use to follow Brittany’s refreshing example.

Secrets for Getting Your College Essay Noticed

1. Make a Plan Before you Begin

One of the first steps you need to take when writing an application essay is to understand the technical requirements of the prompt, such as maximum word count. From there, you need to get a clear idea of exactly what you want to say to your potential school.

During an interview following her success, Brittany described her process for planning out her essay by stating, “I really tried to think of my defining qualities, and narrowed it down to one or two qualities I wanted to convey to admissions officers.”

After determining the goal of your essay, the next step is to find your voice and decide how you want to convey that message. Will you take a humorous approach like Brittany? Can you draw a deep connection between your message and the future you see for yourself at your potential school? However you decide to approach it, the most important thing is to be sure that your voice is truly you.

2. Think Outside the Box

After reading through Brittany’s essay, what stands out the most is the way she used humor to draw in her audience and make her point. Thinking outside the box in this way is necessary to make an impact on admissions officers who read thousands of these essays every year. The key is finding the right tools to use in your essay to enhance what you are trying to say, not detract from it.

Remember that these colleges are looking for students that exemplify strong character traits that complement the values and mission of the school. While Brittany’s essay used a playful touch to make her point, it still came back to a focus on her curiosity, self-awareness, and critical thinking ability – all traits that are highly desirable in the student body of a prestigious school.

3. Don’t be Afraid to Show Your Personality

When asked how she chose the specific topic for her essay, Brittany stated, “Before I even started writing an essay, I read a quote from an admissions officer that said if your essay is on the ground and there is no name on it and one of your friends picks it up, they should know that you wrote it.”

Injecting your authentic self into your application is necessary to catch the eye of an admissions officer, but it has to be done in a way that is true to your personality. If you are not naturally a comedic, playful person, it will come off as inauthentic if you attempt to write an essay similar to Brittany’s. For the strongest application, you must embrace the uniqueness of your personality and then relate that back to your experience.

4. Back-Up Your Story with Experience

The essay is only one part of your application, although there’s no question that it has the potential to make a significant impact on your acceptance to the school. However, talking up your strong character traits isn’t enough on its own – you also have to prove that you walk your talk!

A strong GPA, high test scores, community involvement, and leadership experience all are looked at during the college application process. While Brittany’s essay is credited for her success in getting into so many top-level schools, she also had an impressive high school resume to back that up.

How to Get Into Your College of Choice

Getting into your school of choice is a journey that begins well before your senior year of high school.

As Brittany Stinson’s success shows, with a dedicated, long-term approach to your ultimate educational goals, anything is possible. There are several lessons that we can take away from Brittany’s innovative approach to the college essay process, but it all comes down to embracing the unique aspects of who you are and what you can share with the world.

Throughout the course of her high school years, Brittany scored extremely high on standardized testing, took several AP classes, was involved in her community, and participated in competitive STEM programs. Combined with her unique application essay, she had a very well-rounded application that was sure to leave a solid first impression.

If your goal is to attend an Ivy League or top-ranked college, small steps towards your goal can quickly add up. Be involved in your school, focus on your strengths, and take note of the secrets discussed above that helped Brittany break down the barriers and reach her well-earned success.

The post 4 Secrets of Success From a High School Senior Who Got Into 5 Ivy League Schools appeared first on My College Guide.

from My College Guide http://mycollegeguide.org/blog/2017/02/get-into-5-ivy-league-schools/

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