#having like the entire office nation put a hold on your life just bc some old broad died has got to suck | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dirtbag-linecook-kyloren · 8 months

Text

OUT TAKES FROM 2800ft

NORMALLY I JUST DELETE THESE ENTIRELY but in the directors commentary for 2800ft I make a lot of references to the BDSM draft of the fic and I FOUND SOME OF THEM so here they are entirely unedited because it felt like a waste, a thing I have LITERALLY NEVER THOUGHT BEFORE IN MY LIFE

I'm still so sad the BDSM didn't end up suiting the tone of the fic, but I am glad I removed it. There was going to be a whole bit where Hux reached into his pocket to feel the key for bens collar as the plane when down, but i think the fic stands better on it's own

HAVE THESE ANYWAY FUCKERS

(edit: I'm going through my document conflicts on scrivener and I found a few more so I'm pasting them at the bottom but ur not getting fomating on these bc I'm lazy)

6/9/22 St. Louis, Missouri The Organa-Solo Residence

"You're insane," Ben says as the front door closes behind him. "You know that, right?" "I see you got my request," Hux replies, looking up from his book. He's been reading on the couch since he got home, waiting for Ben to land. "Tell me you didn't actually get this notarized." He holds up the piece of paper Hux slipped into his bag a few days ago, in anticipation of the event. "It's a remarkably cheap fee," Hux tells him, setting his book aside. "There's a limit on how much notaries can charge in Missouri, if it's a financial concern." Ben stares at him before reading the paper aloud. "A formal request of Ben Organa-Solo, made by Armitage Organa-Solo, to be fulfilled on June 9th, 2022," he starts. "If both parties are amendable, and schedules align, in celebration of the national holiday, Mr. and Mr. Organa-Solo will-" Ben stops, setting the paper down on the entryway table. "A formal request for sex?" Hux takes in the flush of Ben's cheeks, the hand toying with his hair. He's not furious, he's just embarrassed, but if the pace of his breathing is any indication- He stands, coming to meet Ben at the door. "You don't know what to be mad about, do you?" Hux asks, loving how Ben's head tilts downward, his eyes half-lidded. "You weren't expecting it, but it's within all out limits, and-" It comes to Hux, then. "You're not upset at all, you're just surprised." His hand comes to Ben's neck, pressing his thumb into the tense muscles and letting his fingers dig in between vertebrae. "Do you need a moment to adjust?" Ben shakes is head, so Hux steps closer, putting himself firmly into Ben's personal space. A soft hand on Ben's chest is all it takes to have him against the door, strong hands clenching at his sides listlessly. "You can touch me," Hux tells him, and his hips are held in a loose grip. "I'm sorry I surprised you. I thought we had done enough things similar, that it wouldn't be too much of a shock." Ben mutters something, and Hux uses a finger to tilt his chin up. "What was that?" "I thought you had a lawyer write it," Ben admits. "It sounded more formal than you normally are, in these things. I-" Words seem to fail him as his flush moves from his checks down to his neck. "The notary on top of that was a lot of strangers knowing I was going to suck your dick." "I tried a new style," Hux says. "I've been reading a few books on contract law in my spare time, thought it would be fine to try out. The notary was a half-asleep woman at the post office, she didn't even bother to read the document. Just had me sign it and her coworker witness it." He pauses. "Did you like that they might know?" "Didn't like it, how much I liked it." Ben draws a breath, letting his head roll back against the wall. "It's infuriating, wanting people to know what you do to me, all while refusing to let them see." "Private exhibition," Hux says. "Well, theoretical, more like." He pauses, wrapping his arms around Ben's shoulders. "I'll keep that in mind, but you haven't submitted a reply to my request." Ben laughs, leaning into him. "Request approved," he says. "Although I refuse to grant it holiday status." "National Day of Sixty-nining is sacred," Hux replies, pulling Ben from the door to lead him towards the bedroom.

10/07/22 St. Louis, Missouri The Organa-Solo Residence

"And he has no idea?" Hux rolls his eyes at Poe, taking the cake out of the freezer so it can thaw on the counter. In their small living room, most of their friends are gathered, drinks in hand and broken off into conversation circles. Phasma is asking Rey about Charlotte, Mitaka is meeting Finn as someone outside of the airport, and not just another employee he passes coffee to, and Han and Leia are having an unsurprisingly delightful time telling stories of Ben as a teenager to anyone who will listen. "I told him I was working, and that we were booked on fights, so I wouldn't have time to come down and see him, but I gave him specific instructions, and-" "I can't stress how much I don't need to know about your sex life," Poe says, cutting him off. "They weren't sexual," Hux huffs. It's an absolute lie, though. The instructions were incredibly sexual, but they were also meant to start the party a few hours later, and instead everyone started showing up early. Hux will just have to make up the disappointment to Ben later. It wouldn't be the longest Ben has handled social interaction with a cage on. Besides, Ben has his own key to it for emergencies. If he wanted, he could take it off while he changed, and Hux would understand. "I hate you so much," Poe whines, pulling Hux away from his thoughts. "Both of you, honestly." Hux shrugs. "Not my fault you're boring in bed." They leave the kitchen and the conversation behind as Hux hears a car door slam outside. "All right, I'm gonna meet him outside, everybody hide." And he does, steps onto the porch. He's supposed to be at work, but he's not so cruel as to allow Ben to completely embarrass himself. He's just smart enough to do it without a paper trail. "You're-" "Act surprised," he whispers. "They all thought this was a great idea, and showed up at our house without consulting me, but your parents flew in, and you know I feel bad saying no to them." "I hate surprises," Ben mutters, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I know, but I couldn't get away to call you. It was supposed to start at six, I was going to tell you when you got home, after-" he looks down, and Ben curses. "Up to you." "Not in front of my parents," he says. "Jesus, I'm gonna need a second." "Buying you time won't be hard, I haven't pulled the cake. I'll vamp." And then Hux is opening the door, ushering Ben in and watching as someone turns on the lights and their friends and family pop out from behind pieces of furniture. They sing happy birthday, and then Hux sends Ben to the bedroom to change and asks Han to tell the story of when Ben broke his window trying to move his bed. It's at least a ten minute story, and a good one, so no one will notice if Ben takes a moment longer to change than strictly necessary.

It's not until later, when guests are shooed away and they lay in bed, covered in sweat and fluids, that Ben curls into his chest. "I love you," Ben says, pressing idle kisses to his skin. "I just- Used to have to deal with their terrible ideas for my birthday alone. They'd get a cake everyone liked, instead of the one I wanted, they'd try to make me invite the whole class. I know they just wanted me to have friends, but it was awful. I didn't stop hating my birthday until I moved out." "It's the least I can do, given your agreement to entirely ignore mine." He runs fingers through long hair, pressing lips to the top of Ben's head. "Next year, I'm just forcing them to bend to my will, but I thought one year in was too soon to become your controlling spouse." Ben laughs, breath warm against his skin, and the arm hanging over Ben's shoulder pulls him closer. "You've always been controlling," Ben tells him. "Luckily for you, I'm pretty into that."

Smaller outtakes:

From the scene where they're heading to ikea:

“It should be the Malm,” Ben insists, because apparently, their earlier discussion about which bed frame to buy wasn’t finished. “It’s not practical,” Hux says, and then lowers his voice, “there’s no place to tie on that headboard, and I’m not buying under the be straps.” The red tinge that takes over Ben’s cheeks is well worth his own discomfort at bringing up their sex life in public. “So not the Malm,” Ben mutters, and Hux smiles into his drink. “You’re both gross,” Mitaka yells across the empty Starbucks. The early flights are only just starting, the line for security not yet backed up by the entrance. Hux flips him off as Ben’s skin returns to its normal color.

This scene was replaced by 5/30/21 take 2, which i think was a better scene because 'airport might get a bird dog' felt too on the nose

His feet are tucked under Ben’s thighs, still freezing despite the chill outside. It’s the start of a long weekend for both of them, three days where neither of them have any reason to be at the airport. Normally, this was cause for a trip, but spring cleaning had overtaken both of them the last few days. Now, with the last cobwebs and remnants of winter cleared from the apartment, they settle into a calm evening. “I heard the airport is thinking about getting a bird dog,” Hux says idly, not looking up from his tablet. Ben’s eyes are closed, his head lolled onto the back of the sofa, but his breathing is still relatively shallow. “If nothing else, the social media team is excited to have someone who won’t say no to their ridiculous video ideas.” Hux may still be bitter about being asked to join a group photo for Saint Patrick’s Day, even after he told the man three times that being ginger did not automatically make him Irish. “A dog on the ground isn’t going to prevent bird strikes in the air,” Ben grumbles, sitting up and blinking his eyes open. “I’m not sure it’s the best way for the airport to spend it’s money.” “Studies say otherwise,” he retorts, but lets the matter die. “And what would you have them spend money on?” Ben laughs, some joke Hux isn’t privy to. “No, really, what can they buy for the cost of a dog that would make you happier?” “They could just give you that money, and I’d be fine.” Rolling his eyes, he closes out of his email and sets his tablet aside to crawl into Ben’s lap. Any edges of sleep vanish, as do conversations of work.

#my fic #my fic: 2800ft

13 notes · View notes

sillyvisioncorner · 1 year

Text

I posted 765 times in 2022

That's 765 more posts than 2021!

254 posts created (33%)

511 posts reblogged (67%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@vrysorcha

@pearlescentocean

@genderflu1dwh0r

@bylerclub

@ronancebuckley

I tagged 358 of my posts in 2022

#batim - 115 posts

#bendy and the ink machine - 115 posts

#stranger things - 96 posts

#batim art - 87 posts

#heathers - 79 posts

#heathers the musical - 66 posts

#stranger things 4 - 63 posts

#brokenloopau - 55 posts

#heathers fanart - 50 posts

#my blog - 49 posts

Longest Tag: 104 characters

#having like the entire office nation put a hold on your life just bc some old broad died has got to suck

My Top Posts in 2022:

Omg, I need Funkos new wave like right now

See the full post

49 notes - Posted August 4, 2022

Some BatIM Paintings

See the full post

79 notes - Posted July 28, 2022

The Fruity Four + Stoner Dou Incorrect Quotes

Eddie: Well, aren’t you all a rag-tag group of adventurers with unclear goals and good hearts! Oh, let me guess: you’re out to save the world! Robin: Well, actually, that sounds like a pretty fair assessment. Jonathan : More or less, I guess... Argyle : That sounds awesome! Let’s do that! Nancy : I’m new here, but I am open to the concept. Steve: I thought that’s what we were doing, guys, come on!

Jonathan : I'm going to ask you to be respectful. Eddie: I will politely decline.

Robin: *Talking to Nancy * Oh, hi. I didn't see you there. Welcome to my abode. I'm glad you could join me. Steve: But this is my abode. Robin: ... Robin: Welcome to my abode, I'm so happy to have you, guest.

Eddie: We’re about to do the taser challenge. You want in? Nancy : What's the taser challenge? Steve: We tase each other, then drink. Nancy : How do you win? Eddie: What are you, a lawyer? You want in or not?

Steve: For self defence reasons, I'm going to pretend to be a burglar and you guys have to act wisely. Robin, Argyle , & Eddie: Okay. Steve: If you don't want to die, give me all your money. Robin: Bold of you to assume I have money. Argyle : Bold of you to assume I don't want to die. Eddie: Bold of you to assume I can die.

Steve: *sighs* I have no friends... Robin: Robin: *coughs* Bitch, what am I? A roach?!

Eddie: Like they say, "If you can't beat them, curl up in a ball and protect your organs."

Nancy : I’m not a doctor I’m a medic. Robin: What’s the difference then? Nancy : Well doctors actually save lives, medics just make you feel more comfortable as you die. Eddie: Note to self; never get shot.

Jonathan , trying to comfort Steve: What's the problem? Anxiety? Low self-esteem? Obsessive thoughts of random arson? I've been there.

Jonathan : Argyle ! I thought you were dead! Argyle : No, just in deep cover. Jonathan : ...But it was an open casket. Argyle : It was very deep.

86 notes - Posted July 31, 2022

Since Dark Revial is coming out soon heres Benders at College

91 notes - Posted November 3, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Heathers Incorrect Quotes

Veronica: *running towards JD with open arms* JD: *moves out of the way* Veronica: Hey, why'd you move?! JD: I thought you were going to attack me. Veronica: I was going to hug you! JD: Why would you hug me? Veronica: WHY WOULD I ATTACK YOU!?

Mac: Happy Scorpio season. If you have to burn a bridge, do it safely! Duke: With NAPALM.

Martha: I will send my army to attack! Martha: *releases a dumpster of raccoons*

Mac: Hello all, it is I, your favourite person. JD: Actually, Veronica is my favourite. Mac: Okay then, it is I, that bitch.

JD: How high are you? Chandler: Mm, I don’t know how to say it in feet. Veronica: No, he's asking what drugs are you on. Chandler: Oh, antidepressants, why?

Kurt: Someone’s trying to break in. Call the cops! Ram: *loads shotgun* I got this. Kurt: Last week you fell up the stairs, what do you mean-

Veronica: You read my diary? Mac: At first I did not know it was your diary. I thought it was a very sad handwritten book.

Ram: How do you connect with a fictional character? Veronica: What? JD: What? Duke: What? Martha: *pulls up a 500 slide presentation* I'm glad you asked.

JD: The ‘how the fucks’ and 'why are you so dumbs’ don’t matter. All that matters is that I have a new gun.

Veronica: When you've been on the internet for as long as I have, you develop thick skin. Kurt: Navy blue isn't your colour. Veronica: Navy blue brings out my eyes you prick! *Chases after Kurt*

Duke: We can’t tell you because you’re not a member of the club. Chandler: What club? JD: The hating Chandler club. Chandler: …The fuck? I should be the leader of that club!

Mac: What's the scariest horror movie you've ever watched? JD: IT. Chandler: Annabelle. Duke: Paranormal Activity. Kurt: High School Musical. All throughout high school I was scared that everyone was gonna randomly get up and start singing and dancing, and I would be the only one who doesn't know the words.

Veronica: Stop setting things on fire because you're curious about what will happen. What will happen is fire. JD: But what if something else happens just this one time.

Chandler: You can do it Veronica! Chandler: But if you can't, at least your death will be quick, painless, and really cool to watch.

Chandler, about JD: He's covered in blood again. Why is it he's always covered in blood? Ram: Well, it looks like it's his own blood this time.

Veronica, writing in her diary with a glitter gel pen: I'm losing my sense of humanity. Nothing matters. God is dead. There's blood on my hands.

JD: I am free of all prejudice. I hate everyone equally.

168 notes - Posted October 1, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #sillyvisoncorner #amy's thoughts #sillyvison art #brokenloopau

1 note · View note

azenkii · 4 years

Text

A Long List of Trash Fire Lord Zuko Headcanons

...that i couldn't get out of my head:

(warning: SUPER LONG POST i havent figured out how to trim posts yet)

he's the one who unchains azula despite iroh's protests. she doesn't even try to fight him, just cries into his shoulder and keeps mumbling about how father's going to be so disappointed in her. he takes her to her rooms and has her drink a sleeping draught, then stations the best guards he has left outside her chambers.

his first council meeting takes place literally a day after sozin's comet. he hobbles into the council chamber shirtless with his entire torso covered in bandages and every council member just looks at him like '...what'

he does NOT sleep for like,,a week after sozin's comet and then another two weeks after his coronation. katara, aang and suki try to persuade him to sleep and he doesn't listen. eventually sokka, toph and mai team up to literally drag his ass to bed and tell him he's not allowed to get up until he sleeps (does mai pin him to the bed with her knives? yes. is it kinky or sexual in any way? definitely not.)

he drinks So. Much. Tea. at this point it's practically tasteless to him but he drinks it anyway because he just needs something to do and tea is something familiar. he keeps iroh on his toes because he's constantly asking for new tea blends, uncle, i think i actually tasted the last one,

he flat-out refuses to grow his hair for at least a year after ozai's defeat. the second it starts getting close to his chin he shears it off himself, with his knife, and his stylist has a heart attack every single time

when he's tired he'll occasionally jump up when one of his guards moves. it stops after a bit, but for the first month and a half or so he's really twitchy. when sokka asks, the only explanation he can come up with is that he's not used to having people stand behind him silently and not want to kill him, much less want to protect him (sokka immediately takes him out for a shopping trip and makes a point of walking behind him the entire time, but only on zuko's right side, where he can clearly see it if sokka moves towards him)

when the healer declares azula mentally unstable and in need of an institution, he shuts himself in his office for the rest of the night. no one's allowed in, not even iroh. he finally emerges in the morning, eyes red from crying and sleep deprivation, and tells the librarian that he'd like a list of the best mental institutions in the country, please, the best in the world if you can get them

he loves theatre (is this even a headcanon?). unfortunately it practically died out in the fire nation along with the rest of the creative arts, leaving nothing but small troupes like the ember island players. one of zuko's personal goals (meaning things he wants to accomplish that aren't as important as restoring his country) is to bring back theatre; he finally manages to do it after about eight months or so of being fire lord, along with other arts like dancing, music and sculpture

he establishes a national day of mourning, on the first day of autumn every year, to commemorate the genocide of the air nomads. from 100AG onwards, every calendar printed in the fire nation has it marked. at first it was called the day of repentance, but aang persuaded him to have it changed (by arguing that he didn't want guilt to be a literal staple of fire nation culture)

he introduces literally So Many educational reforms, plus a mandatory class that teaches students about the cultures of the other nations (air nomads included) and how some of their traditions overlap

he turns down the offer of having a statue put up of him in the capital. toph ignores him and does it anyway.

he visits azula regularly, makes sure she's (relatively) comfortable and well-fed, and sometimes just sits down outside her door and tells her about everything that's going on right now ('some of the far colonies have developed their own standardised writing, azula, you wouldn't believe it, and i've asked the fire sages to come visit more often—but you never liked them, did you? oh, well; i'll make sure none of them go into your chambers by mistake')

(he doesn't know it, but when he does this azula sits by the door and listens. she wonders what kind of writing the colonists have developed, and whether or not the fire sages have taken on some new recruits.)

he hates being above anyone else. never sits in the throne if he can help it, nor does he sit on the dais in the council room. when he talks to people shorter than him, he finds himself stooping a little bit to talk to them on their level (the exception to this rule is sokka, who he mocks for being shorter all the way up until sokka grows taller than him, the bastard)

the first time he visits the earth kingdom, the earth king's ministers call a toast. he ends up being the only one who has to sit out, because he's too young to drink by earth kingdom law

once his servants figure out he won't kill them for talking to him, they start becoming a lot more bold, telling him off when he doesn't take care of himself. at one point, they force him to let them take care of him so much that he literally just bolts into the gardens and hides there until the staff rope in mai and ty lee

when he needs to escape, he does one of two things: (a) he dresses up as the blue spirit and does some parkour until he calms down, or (b) he goes to work at the jasmine dragon. (b) happens less often bc the jasmine dragon's in ba sing se, but there's been a few memorable incidents when an earth kingdom diplomat walks in and yells, 'LEE?!' when they see the fire lord

the first court artist who draws him also happens to be the one who drew azulon and ozai. he draws zuko without his scar. zuko takes one look at it and tells him, very calmly, that he'd like him to leave, please.

zuko burns the portrait. he doesn't fire the court artist, but he never calls on him again unless he has to. a second court artist is called, and can't help but be a bit confused when the fire lord tells him to be sure to include the scar

he forgets the crown. a lot. sometimes he walks into council meetings in his sleepwear with his hair tied up in a messy ponytail and a bunch of scrolls tucked under his arm. none of his councilmen have the guts (or the heart) to tell him that this is not, in fact, formal council wear

he goes to feed the turtleducks when he's stressed. he thinks he's being subtle. he's not. the entire palace knows, and they consciously give him space when they see him in the turtleduck garden

most of his staff are older than him, so they look at him and see this teeny tiny fire lord who is So Small and who Must Be Protected. the day after zuko's coronation, the head chef holds a meeting where they commence Operation Do-Not-Let-That-Boy-Turn-Out-Like-His-Father (subsection He's-The-Only-Good-Thing-We-Have)

one night he wakes up to find suki sitting in his room, decked out in full kyoshi warrior garb and makeup, and just about screams blue murder. suki tells him there are suspicions of an assassin in the palace, and would you please stop yelling it's very distracting, we won't be able to hear anyone coming over that racket

zuko gets very, very paranoid of random spirits after that. yeah, suki looks like a possibly malevolent spirit when she's wearing her makeup, what about it? (when he tells sokka he's highkey terrified of spirit shenanigans, sokka just looks at him and says, 'man, the stories i could tell...', and THAT'S when zuko remembers sokka spent like six months more than he did travelling with the avatar)

on his first visit to the southern water tribe, he removes his boots and leg guards, rolls up his pants and kneels barefoot in the snow. even though chief hakoda immediately starts trying to pull him up, he's stubborn as hell and stays kneeling for the entirety of his very long, very sincere apology-on-behalf-of-the-fire-nation speech. he nearly loses his toes to frostbite after that, and both sokka and katara never stop giving him shit for it

the first time he grows a 'beard' is completely accidental. he's stressed over some trade miscommunications with chief hakoda, hasn't slept in a few days...and then when sokka arrives as water tribe ambassador to help smooth things over, he takes one look at zuko and says 'man, facial hair does not suit you'

zuko: facial what now

he checks a mirror to find that he's got stubble covering his chin, dark enough that it almost looks intentional, and holy gods how the fuck did he not notice this before

'UNCLE WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME' 'i assumed you were doing it on purpose' 'WHEN HAVE I EVER DONE ANYTHING ON PURPOSE'

he shaves it all off immediately, of course, which prompts a lot of teasing and rib-poking from sokka until zuko finally snaps that he's scared it'll make him look like his father. sokka stops after that.

(the day after sokka leaves, zuko finds that a mysterious someone has scribbled all over ozai's royal portrait, giving him a frankly ridiculous beard and moustache that literally CANNOT be grown in real life. oddly enough, he can't bring himself to care about the defamation of royal property. he's too busy laughing.)

his paths cross with toph and sokka more than any of the others, because sokka is ambassador and toph is technically still a beifong. most of the time, at formal functions, he ends up sequestered in the corner with toph and a hoard of snacks, and they talk and swear much more than they usually do (zuko's ministers once heard him when he was drunk with toph, and the servants swear the older ministers' ears started bleeding)

he restores fire nation cultural festivals, and in doing so subjects himself to learning a lot of complicated dances

during one memorable week, he wrote so many letters and drafted so much legislation that he ran out of paper. he had to go visit the nearest school and ask for some

he keeps up with his firebending and sword training even though it's hard to fit into his schedule. his ministers refrain from reminding him that he has guards to protect him now; it's still hard for zuko to trust his safety with anyone but himself (team avatar is the exception).

he started sleepwalking about two months into his reign. no one knew why. one time, he nearly sleepwalked right off the edge of a balcony, and one of his guards had to grab him by the back of his robes.

the sleepwalking stopped after around a month and never happened again. at this point it's practically palace legend.

after freeing the war prisoners, he went around collecting every single earthbender-proof wooden cell he could find in the capital and surrounding areas. when he'd gotten most of them, he gathered them into a huge pile in the city square and set fire to them with his own hands.

unfortunately he couldn't do that with the waterbender metal cells but he did get toph to come in and bend them all into pretty shapes (well, toph thought they were pretty shapes. everyone else thinks they're meaningless squiggles)

he learned how to write with both hands at the same time out of sheer necessity (he refused scribes until it became clear that he'd be putting some people out of a job; that was when he started letting scribes write very, very minor things, but all important documents/drafts/letters are still written by him)

he once put the wet end of an ink brush in his mouth instead of the wooden end by mistake. didn't even realise until he bit down to keep it in place and ink went oozing everywhere

when his guards rushed in to find him coughing and spluttering black liquid all over his desk they thought he'd been poisoned but no he's just stupid

on his 17th birthday, his first one after being crowned, he got tackled by team avatar in the middle of the ballroom and ended up at the bottom of a cuddlepile for like ten minutes

this cuddlepile happened at an event that was very much public and very much formal. it was a scandal for weeks

just. fire lord zuko, guys. so much potential

#holy cow this ended up so much longer than i intended #atla #avatar #zuko #firelord zuko #headcanons

7K notes · View notes

sanktnikolais · 3 years

Text

Weather The Storm

A/N: Second piece from the three-year gap series (my house of stone, your ivy grows) of the trilogy and King of Scars lashkljhas another argument bc they have the trope of reluctant allies to lovers pining idiots and I want to explore that more ohoho

have this mess

Word count: 1996

Zoya's boots crunched in the snow as she tore through the crowd of bustling soldiers in the camp. She ignored the curious stares she got from the First Army men, her mind focused on one thing that was driving her feet faster.

The King is an utter fool.

She grit her teeth as another wave of annoyance hit her, threatening to make her lash out at anyone around. If it weren't for the hushed chatter of a few Grisha from the other side of camp, she wouldn't have known that he was here.

Didn't you hear? The King came along with the First Army to lead the attack in the left flank.

We would have lost the bigger part of the boundary if it weren’t for their surprise attack.��

He wouldn't have been recognized if his disguise hadn't faded.

It was actually a good cover, but I would have recognized the redheads among our men.

Her jaw twitched, the wind picking up around her. She breathed deeply and calmed her powers. But the coldness only became worse. Annoyance had already clouded her reason. The wound in her right arm stung, and she was sure it had opened again, but she didn’t bother checking on it.

Zoya should have known he would pull off something like this. If she had, she would have chained him up in his chambers and locked him in there. She figured she had underestimated his stubbornness.

Ahead, the biggest tent that she recognized as the makeshift infirmary loomed, with people coming in and out restlessly. A small part of her worried that the King could be one of the wounded inside, but her irritation told her there was no way he would be there if he just hadn't come. That idiot.

She was almost by the tent flap when a familiar figure emerged from the inside.

"Well, isn't it the Commander?" Tamar was smiling brightly as she approached Zoya, completely unaware of her inner turmoil. Behind her, Tolya came out from the tent as well. They were unharmed, at least, and Zoya felt relieved at that. But unlike his sister, Tolya’s face looked grim at the sight of Zoya.

She appreciated the tall man's ability to read facial expressions.

"I still can't believe—"

"Where is he?" Zoya cut her off, voice low.

Tamar went silent for a moment. Then she sighed, her smile fading. "He insisted," she said, shaking her head. “I would have locked him up if he hadn’t become all too authoritative.”

“Then you should’ve tried harder!” Zoya’s voice rose. Some of the soldiers stopped to listen, and she fought the urge to berate them about being nosy and to mind their own damned business. “Do you realize the danger you let him walk into?”

“Woah, Commander.” Tamar straightened, her sharp eyes narrowing as if she had been challenged to a duel. “Just because you go against him doesn’t mean I would too.” She shook her head in disbelief. “Unlike you, I am loyal to the throne. You could—”

Tamar stopped abruptly, and Zoya’s anger flared. The winds howled atto her will. “Go on. I dare you,” she said. Thunder cracked in the sky despite the snow, making Tamar flinch slightly though she immediately regained composure and set a hand on one of her axes. Zoya knew she would regret this later, so she tried to calm herself down. But something inside her had been ticked, and the rage just overwhelmed everything. “Go on. I could what?”

It was then Tolya stepped forward and got in between them, his towering form almost intimidating Zoya. Almost. “Alright, that’s enough, you two,” he said, his deep voice more gentle than she had expected. He looked at her, then turned to his sister. “Let’s not do this now, or ever, if you may. We’ve all had a rough fortnight, and besides, we have a victory to celebrate.”

A tense silence washed over them, neither of them wanting to back down just yet. But Tolya's words seemed to get to them because their stances slacked, Tamar letting go of her axes and Zoya willed the wind to calm down around them.

The people around them were still watching, so she sent a glare to their way that had them scurrying back to whatever it was they were doing. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Not the time to lose control.

"Where is he?" she asked again. Her voice was much gentler this time, though it took all she could to make it sound like that.

Tolya inclined his head to the side. "There, by the edge of camp near the cliff," he replied. “He went there just now.”

Zoya turned to the direction he was pertaining to. True enough, she could make out a small figure through the still falling snow.

"Let me guess, he wanted to be alone this time?" she said, tone a bit mocking. The King was out in the open, and he didn't even care about the worst case scenario. "Out there in the open? Good saints."

She didn’t let them say anything else as she stomped over her king. The title sounded funny to her, with the way he was acting. He definitely had to live up to his name if he wanted the people to trust him. Or if he wanted her to trust him.

Lantsov was in a First Army soldier’s uniform, the olive drab looking black against the weather. The golden double eagle on his shoulder indicated an officer’s—a Major—rank, and Zoya was left wondering how he had gotten such a high place in the military despite being young.

He was near now, and if he noticed her, he didn’t acknowledge her presence. Zoya was already ready to call him out had he not moved and buried his rifle in the snow in front of him, its stock pointed upwards. She stopped in her tracks. Her eyebrows furrowed as she watched him take off his helmet and put in on the gun, along with a bunch of tags he was holding. There was a long silence, nothing but the sound of the wind could be heard. His head bowed, letting his hand linger on his helmet, and then he was standing straight again, the poise and stance of a well-respected leader.

She eyed him for another moment, noticing the slump on his shoulders as he clutched at the tags on the helmet, and she was left wondering who owned them. Were they his friends? Mere soldiers he wanted to grieve for? The questions lingered in her mind, but she didn’t voice them out.

Another beat passed, and then he trained his eyes forward. “Come to give me an earful, haven’t you, Nazyalensky?” he said, a rueful smile on his lips. If it were some other time, Zoya would have sympathized with him. But now she was just angry. “Worry not, I think I deserve it, anyway.”

Zoya almost laughed. “I am indeed glad you know your mistake, Your Highness,” she said. She considered her next words, but she couldn’t find a way to make it lighter. “You should not have been here.”

Lantsov huffed incredulously, as if he were insulted. “And what, my dear Squaller? Sit back pretty on my throne and watch as my men give their life to the country I have sworn to protect?”

“As much as I hate to break it to you and your ego,” she said, “it is the only way for you to be able to protect Ravka.” She stepped closer to him to emphasize her point. “You have to live.”

“I don’t think watching your people do things for you could be called living.”

“You fool,” Zoya said through gritted teeth. “You’re missing the entire point. You’re the king. If you died in battle, who would have replaced you? Some distant relative who had no care to the throne? A pretender? The Triumvirate?” She shook her head in disbelief. “You’ve chosen us to steer this forsaken country alongside you, so don’t try to make any more reckless decisions that would lead to the nation’s and your own demise.”

Lantsov became silent, a flash of hurt passing over to his face. It was gone in a blink, and Zoya questioned herself if she had just imagined it. His expression became stoic, the usual one he gave when he was wearing the mask of the monarch again, instead of a boy that had too much on his shoulders.

“Sometimes I wonder if you knew how it felt like losing people close to you to this country,” he said. His eyes were hard, grief-stricken, and she realized that he had been through wars too, just like her and countless others. “Maybe then you would realize why I am willing to put my life on the line.”

“We all lost people. And don’t you dare tell me that I do not know how it felt like,” she said. Her aunt’s kind smile flashed before her eyes. She blinked the image away. It wasn’t the right time to grieve, but the pain of losing her rekindled in her chest. “Because I do.” She paused, mustering up her strength to speak. “The only difference is that I don’t let grief consume the logical part of my mind.”

She expected Lantsov to get angry, or leave, or even remove her from her post. But he just smiled ruefully. “No,” he said. “The only difference is that I am a royal and I am not permitted to die. Even if I wanted to save them, I couldn’t. But you could.”

Zoya stilled. The words hit like knives to her heart, and suddenly she was fifteen again, crossing the Fold on her own in hopes to see her aunt again. But she never got to her in time.

She tried to shove the memories away, but it kept flooding. Her aunt and her niece weren’t just the ones who perished in the war barely a year ago. Sergei, mutilated by the Darkling’s nichevo’ya. Harshaw, struck by a bullet to the chest. Fedyor, thrown from the roof of the Little Palace and down to the waiting monsters. Marie. Paja. And countless others. Friends and companions, lying dead in the pool of blood in the hall they had been staying before the attack happened.

She had seen the Second Army on the brink of annihilation. He was aware she had been through the same war, and yet he still asked her if she knew how it felt losing people?

Her eyes stung, fists clenched. Her hands twitched at her sides, ready to summon the winds and even lightning to her will if it meant making her point to the king. But she chose not to. It would only make things worse.

Zoya breathed deeply, letting her anger pass before she spoke again. She hated this. She hated herself. But above all, she hated him because he was right.

She knew to herself she wouldn't have sat back too, waiting until her people made a difference. No, she would be with them and fight alongside them, and try to see the change with her own eyes.

But she wasn't the leader of Ravka, and she never would be. So she would do everything she could to protect its king, even from him himself and his own foolishness.

She straightened then, slipping her own stoical mask on her face. “That may have been the difference, Your Highness, but I am not the one who chose your fate. It was you alone, and you would stand up to it.” She started to turn, wanting nothing more than to get away from him. “And your fate is to live. For Ravka.”

With that, Zoya left the king standing on his own in the cold, the weight of her own words heavy on her shoulders. But she locked them away and continued on. She only did what she knew was right.

For Ravka.

#zoyalai #zoya nazyalensky #nikolai lantsov #tamar kir bataar #tolya yul bataar #king of scars #my writing #hMMM #zoya being quite temperamental in the start aslfj;la #MORE TENSION #bc i love reluctant allies to lovers ohohoho #zoya canonically said she didn't trust him at first #let's take advantage of that #no softs until the seventh piece i think #HJALSFH #it's just them being insufferable and rough with each other #stay tuned #will write the next one asap ;-;

36 notes · View notes