#where the sword/blade ends up on the list makes a lot of people offended and angry | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lonely-lost-soul · 3 years

Text

Under The Floorboards (Pt. VIII)

(Technoblade x Reader) First Part: Pt. 1 Latest: Pt.VX

(Feel free to play this while listening to this chapter! Full credit to @Alexx-Kun on Wattpad for suggesting this gorgeous song)

https://youtu.be/kCV4JUqGr64

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Day 1: Forgiveness

Step one you needed to find a venue, you had assigned Ranboo as your honorary maid of honor. The young boy was just as thrilled as he was confused, did you not have any other friends? You were Technoblade’s perfect match if that was the case. Ranboo had no problem voicing that to you and you pouted at him, you argued that everyone who lived with Techno was antisocial. He reluctantly agreed and you smiled proudly, he rolled his eyes and shoved your shoulder with his hand. You laughed, glad you were sitting down, or else you would’ve for sure fallen. Technoblade and you had decided to split the jobs for the wedding between the both of you. You were in charge of the invitations and flowers, basically anything to do with decorating and interacting with other humans. Technoblade meanwhile was in charge of the venue and the official rings, it’s not that you didn’t trust him with more duties it was more that he didn’t trust himself. That and he also believed that you both could just get married in the woods. You at least wanted a small wedding with a few people you cared about, you rubbed your pointer finger and thumb together with a frown.

“You alright?”

“Just thinking about the invitations. Who will come...stuff like that.” Ranboo glanced over at the minuscule stack of letters by the table, it was clearly small, but Ranboo hand wrote them for you in swirl print. They better show up, Ranboo would be pissed if they didn’t, he put a lot of work into those invites.

“They’ll come.” He nodded his head picking them up with his claws, one was for Tommy, another was for Ghostbur, and Ranboo also suggested an invite for Captain Puffy he figured the both of you would get along considering you both had a habit for adopting misfits. You also needed a female friend. “We can deliver them and search for flowers, then tomorrow we can search for a dress for you that sounds okay right?”

“For someone with such a bad memory, you’re surprisingly good at planning,” You watched the boy preen at your compliment.

“Thank you, I also figured we can use the stasis chamber so you only have to walk one way with your ankle.”

“Smart boy.”

“Why thank you,” Ranboo smiled proudly over at you reaching out his hand for you to take. You grabbed it and he pulled you to his feet, he kept his hand interlocked with yours, it was minuscule in comparison to the half enderman’s. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

Slowly but surely the two of you made your way over to the nether portal and into the once-great country. Ranboo placed his hand on your lower back and helped guide you through the rubble of the city. He knew much better than you did where everyone resided, even if you didn’t meet them face to face you’d make a chest and drop it off. Ironically the first person you ran into was the woman Ranboo insisted you meet, Captain Puffy. She’s gorgeous, was your first thought, she was some form of a sheep hybrid dressed like a pirate, two of your favorite things, sorry Technoblade you might’ve met your new wife. You talked with her well into the afternoon, she was just so easy to talk to,

“Can I just say I feel like I’ve known you forever,” She gushed, taking your hands within her own and squeezing fondly. “I’m so happy Ranboo has found someone to watch out for him,” Ranboo flushed in response but didn’t argue against Puffy’s words which warmed your heart.

“I’m happy too. I just want to help these kids in whatever way I can,” You smiled a little forlornly thinking once again of the obnoxious blonde. “They just don’t deserve all the shit they have to deal with, they’re kids you know? They should be living their lives.”

“Yeah keep talking like I’m not here,” Ranboo mused over your shoulder which caused you to laugh with a shake of your head, “no need to stop please continue.” Puffy smiled at the both of you,

“She’s right though Ranboo. You should be out causing mischief or getting into trouble, not fighting in a never-ending war.”

“Oof getting into trouble? No thank you, I just wanna tend to my pets and go on adventures with my friends.”

“You’ll get to do that I promise. Once my ankles healed we’ll go woodland mansion hunting, I’ve been to a few in my time. They’re a lot of fun.”

“Really?”

“Yeah of course!” You beamed and Ranboo smiled right back at you, he brought his journal out of his bag and quickly scribbled something down in it. In the end, Puffy ended up accepting the invitation with a blinding smile,

“You’re going to be a gorgeous bride. Could I bring my girlfriend Niki? You’ll love her!”

“I don’t see why not. I can’t wait to meet her!” You assumed Technoblade wouldn’t mind one more person, especially because he’s never mentioned Niki which was a good thing in your eyes. Usually, if Technoblade talked about you, it was because he wasn’t a fan. You all said your goodbyes, you felt warm inside you couldn’t believe you were about to have TWO friends who are girls.

“Soooooo?”

“I love her.”

“Told you so,” Ranboo smirked. He was proud of himself for forcing someone else to socialize so he didn’t have to. Ranboo was relieved that list of people to invite wasn’t long; considering Technoblade had more enemies than friends. The only thing that rubbed him the wrong way was he didn’t even know that you had invited Tommy in the first place.

So if Tommy did show up, your wedding might be a bloodbath.

You and Ranboo stood outside of Tommy’s house, he glanced down at you and watched your hands clench the envelope. He brought his hands over yours and rubbed them gently, you looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Deep breath and relax okay? He’s Tommy so I won’t say he won’t flip out at you, but I can say you’re a wonderful friend, you’ll be fine.”

“I can’t believe Mr. Panic Room is telling me to relax.” You let out a nervous laugh, he made an offended face.

“Ya know what, never helping you again. You can walk home.”

“Ranboo it was a joke!”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” you stuck your tongue out and headed up to Tommy’s door and knocked. You already knew Tommy might not even be home, the boy was a wanderer by nature. Yet, much to your surprise, the door opened with a loud BANG, and in the doorway stood Tommy looking better than you’ve seen him in all the time he spent with you and Technoblade.

“Hi, Tommy.”

“(Y/N)?” He blinked looking surprised before he steeled his face, “What’re you doing here wench!” Tommy pointed an accusatory finger at you and you raised an eyebrow,

Wench?

That wasn’t going to fly.

“Try again.”

Tommy sputtered as you narrowed his eyes accusingly, his eyes trailed down to the netherite sword at your side. His entire demeanor changed when he spotted it at your side,

“(Y/N)! My friend! Good to see you! How’ve you been? Good? Good!” The boy rambled wrapping an arm around your shoulder with a big smile, there’s the Tommy you remembered. “I’m sure you’re doing good fo’ sho’! Now what do, I owe this pleasure women!”

“I wanted to invite you to Technoblade and I’s wedding,” Your voice was soft and hesitant, holding out the invitation out to him. The teenager blinked a few times before taking it from your hands, he flipped it over confusion was etched deep on his brow.

“You’re getting married? To Technoblade? He’s going to have a wife and I’m not?”

You blinked a few times trying to process what Tommy said, was he more mad at the fact that Technoblade was getting married in the first place? “Well yeah, considering I’m his fiance and all…”

“That motherfucker! He gets to have a wife! I want a wife! (Y/N) acquire me a wife!”

You let out howling laughter at his response, tossing your arms around the boy, he went silent and a confused look came across his face. His ears turned red as he looked over at Ranboo with a face that screamed help me, Ranboo simply looked away holding up a prominent middle finger at the boy. “Okay, okay! Enough hugs,” Tommy ranted shoving you away from him with a huff, “I don’t know what’s so funny about me needing a wife.”

“You’ll find a wife eventually,” You couldn’t help but smile as he frowned down at you. “So? Can you make it?” Voice quiet as you looked up at him, the nervousness from before creeping back into your body, he chewed on his bottom lip while looking at you. Tommy wasn’t about to be soft while Ranboo was standing less than a foot away so he did the next best thing which was whacking you on top of the head.

“I-well-...” Tommy rubbed the back of his neck looking nervous for the first time in his life, “I can’t.” He saw your face fall and he grabbed your shoulders tightly, “Not because I don’t want to! I… I guess you’re not TERRIBLE.” He admitted begrudgingly, “Tubbo and I...we have some unfinished business we need to deal with before things get any worse for people.”

“I don’t know what you mean Tommy.” You suddenly grew very concerned, “You don’t have to hold the entire world on your shoulders.”

“Yeah, I do,” Tommy responded with enough seriousness to shake you to your core, you didn’t know about his past with the discs fully, but you knew enough to know this situation was about that. “Just know I’m happy for you, seriously I am,” He gave you a sad smile.

“Stay safe Tommy. Please don’t be stupid.”

“I’m never stupid you BITCH!”

“Call me a bitch again you BRAT!”

“MAKE ME!”

You frowned, hitting him in the side so he would double over, while he gripped his stomach you pulled him into a headlock and began digging your knuckles into his skull. “Apologize!”

“NEVER!”

Ranboo looked sheepish as he stared at the scene, his shoulders slumping forward. “(Y/N) we have a schedule-” Reluctantly you released Tommy and he stumbled back, he huffed dusting off his shirt. You smiled slightly over at the boy,

“See you soon raccoon boy,” you gave him a proud salute.

“Hasta La Vista Miss Blade,” Tommy responded, saluting you right back.

You turned away from the boy and headed back over to Ranboo’s side, “You ready?” You nodded in response with a little smile on your lips. “Good. Next, up is Ghostbur right? We need to find him.”

“If we can locate Friend we can locate him.”

It took a while, but eventually, you and Ranboo found Ghostbur and Friend wandering around a forest nearby the crater. Immediately spotting you a bright smile spread across the ghost’s face, “(Y/N)!” He shouted, throwing his hand in the air with a wave, “How’re you doing darling!”

“I’m good Ghostbur! Have you met Ranboo?”

“Briefly. Nice to see you again!”

“Ugh, ditto,” Ranboo responded with a shy smile shuffling a little behind you.

You smiled and pulled an envelope out from your bag, you held it out to him.

“You and Friend good sir, are invited to Technoblade and I’s wedding.” He gasped loudly, eyes lighting up with pure and utter joy,

“Technoblade getting married! Oh my god, that’s phenomenal! You’re going to make the most beautiful bride,” he praised excitedly as your face turned red at the compliments, “Gosh, you two are so lovely together, I wouldn’t miss this for the world! Do you have a dress? You have to show me!”

You rubbed the back of your head, rocking on your heels, “Well...about that.”

“Do not tell me you don’t have a DRESS?” He practically yelled crossing his arms, “I’m disappointed in you!”

“It’s in two days Ghostbur! I had no time! I’ll make do with something. I’m sure I have an old dress somewhere-”

“UNACCEPTABLE!” He grabbed at your hands, “I’m getting you a dress. I’ll meet you at Technoblade’s tomorrow, just hold on!” Ghostbur ran his hand through Friend’s wool with a smile, “You’re going to be one of the most gorgeous brides, only second to Sally.”

“Well I’m honored, I’ll see you then.” You smiled adoringly at the little ghost as he floated off his sheep buddy by his side.

“Do you think he’s getting you a dress?”

“I have no idea,” You responded with a shrug, “It’s sweet he’s willing to put in the effort though.”

“Or creepy.”

“It’s sweet you jerk,” You nudged him with your arm Ranboo smiled,

“I’m just glad it’s off our to-do list for tomorrow.”

“True that means you can sleep in,” You teased as his multicolored eyes lit up,

“Hell yeah.”

~~~

Day 2: Ghostbur’s Gift

You woke up to sleepy kisses and tender touches, one of the loveliest ways to wake up if you might add.

“Morning big guy,” You cooed fondly as he made a soft purr-like sound in his throat. You turned over to face him and he immediately pressed a kiss to your lips. The voices couldn’t help but point out how cute you looked in the morning.

“Helloooo...How’s your ankle?” He asked his thumb brushing against your cheek, closing your eyes you let out a soft,

“Much better.”

“Good, I heard from Ranboo Ghostbur’s supposedly stopping by today. Any particular reason?”

“He says he has a dress I can wear for tomorrow.”

“How does he have a dress exactly?”

“No idea, but I’m going with it.”

“If you’re sure. Just don’t look bad.” You frowned and bonked him on the side of his head, “it was a joke!”

“It better be a joke or I’m leaving your ass. I look good in everything so fuck off.” You hissed as Technoblade groaned,

“Heard you loud and clear Princess. Scouts honor, you’re the most beautiful girl to me you know that.”

“I do. Just don’t joke around like that, makes me feel bad okay?”

He frowned a little and moved to hover over you, his hair framed his face and fell past his shoulders. It tickled your cheeks and you ran your hands through it meeting anything but his eyes suddenly feeling very self-conscious. Technoblade kissed the tip of your nose,

“Hey, Princess look at me.”

Turning your head towards his voice, the two of you locked eyes, a sense of calm washed over you, the only thing in his eyes was pure, unadulterated love.

“You’re the most beautiful girl in the world to me. No matter what I’m always going to think that you are, you could grow a third eye and I’d still want to marry you tomorrow. I’m sorry I made you feel bad, it was a joke but I won’t make it again. I swear.” You felt your eyes water as you tossed your arms around his neck, the sudden movement caused him to fall forward crushing you beneath him.

“I love you too bubba. Thank you for listening to me.”

“That’s part of my job idiot.”

You smiled against his neck and held him tighter, Technoblade reciprocated the hug and decided the both of you could stay in bed just a little while longer. The two of you shared soft kisses, every once in a while Technoblade would reinforce how precious you were to him, eventually, it all got to be too much and you shoved your hands in his face.

“Enough is enough! I’m embarrassed now.” Technoblade laughed at your flustered expression and pressed a fond kiss to your lips, obviously you kissed him back, your fingers threading through his hair.

“Princess…” He let out a pleased sound in the back of his throat, “you’re making it hard to get out of bed. I still have some stuff set up for tomorrow and you gotta look out for Wilbur.”

“Or hear me out. You can stay in bed with me all day, and keep giving me kisses,” You pressed your lips to his own before whispering in his ear, “Anywhere you’d like.” You nipped teasingly at his earlobe and suddenly felt the heat radiating off his face. As you expected his face was a deep red color and you felt his head fall against your shoulder,

“You’re going to kill me.” You only laughed in response, finally pulling away from him you swung your feet over the side of the bed, “you can’t just say that and walk away.” He whined loudly with a little pout on his lips, “Especially since I won’t see you until the wedding.”

“Suck it up buttercup,” You stuck your tongue out at the man “I’ll just be at Ranboo’s if something goes wrong I’ll be within reach.” He reached his hand up and threaded his fingers through your hair, you sighed pleasantly at the physical touch, “I love you.”

“Love you too, see you tomorrow.” You gave him one last fleeting kiss before standing up leaving the warmth of the covers and your half-naked fiance behind much to your dismay. You tossed one of Technoblade’s old shirts over your head, it came down past your knees and Technoblade let out a happy sigh from behind you. You let out a little laugh, looking at him over your shoulder his eyes were half-lidded as he stared at your now bare legs. “Hold on don’t change just yet I wanna stare a little bit longer.”

“Perv.” You snickered ignoring his wishes and sliding on a pair of pants, afterward, you tied a corset around your waist. He responded with a ‘heh?’ of disagreement before he groaned loudly and flopped over in the bed, “see you soon Bubbas.” You leaned over and pecked his forehead before sliding down the ladder and out of the house. Ironically your timing was perfect as you greeted Ranboo right outside Technoblades cabin, “Good morning!”

“Morning, you and Techno sleep okay?” You nodded with a bright smile, “Good Wilbur should be stopping by any minute now by the way. He sent me a note earlier this morning that said he’d be around this time.”

“Works for me, wanna wait by your house?”

“You just wanna pet my bunny,” You smirked and laughed,

“Can you blame me?”

“I suppose not. Whatever makes you happy.” Ranboo sighed but there wasn’t any real defeat in his tone, “Let’s go.” Ranboo and you walked a little ways away to his humble little shack so you could play with Ranbun. You were set up in Ranbun’s pen holding him in your arms and cooing softly at him, Ranboo joined you after a few moments of jealous staring. The two of you spent the next hour playing with his bunny and feeding him lots of treats, he was one happy bunny. Ranboo was the first person to see Ghostbur coming through the trees, a large box in hand, had he actually managed to get you a dress?

“(Y/N)! Ranboo!” Ghostbur shouted excitedly floating over to the both of you, “I managed to find the dress I promised you! So long as it fits of course.” Your jaw fell open as you stumbled out of Ranbun’s pen,

“How the hell did you manage to find me a wedding dress?”

“Oh! It was Sally’s.” A fond smile spread across the ghost’s face, both you and Ranboo looked at one another brows furrowed. Ranboo put a hand to the side of his face and whispered loudly to you,

“I thought Sally was a fish.”

You whispered back in the exact same manner,

“Me too, but at this point, I’m too afraid to ask for clarification.”

Ranboo nodded seriously and stood back up to his full height, you stepped forward and took the box from the hands of the ghost he stared at it longingly like he was afraid to let it go. You chewed on the inside of your cheek for a moment before speaking up,

“Are you sure?” Your voice was barely above a whisper but it was still as tender as ever, the ghost of Wilbur snapped his eyes up to meet yours. He seemed to be reading the expression in your eyes before smiling almost fondly, handing the box over to you officially. He pulled out a small patch of blue and fumbled it around in his hands, like a nervous tic,

“I’m positive love. I trust you to take good care of it and Sally would want you to have it, she was wonderful like that. Just please take good care of it.”

“I’ll protect it with my life. I promise you.”

“I know you will, you’re going to be a beautiful bride, my dear.” He somehow took your hands and pressed a faint kiss to them, “Go on then try it on.” Your eyes sparkled in delight and he turned to Ranboo,

“Well go on, we’ll still be here to judge you immensely.”

“Oh fuck off.” You laughed heading into his shack to change, you managed to find an area not completely out in the open. The only nerve-wracking thing was you didn’t have a mirror so you had to pray you looked alright and that Raboo and Ghostbur wouldn’t lie to you. You opened the box and pulled the dress out, Sally really knew how to pick a damn good dress; the dress was stunning, you definitely wouldn’t do it justice. The dress fell past your feet and pooled a little ways behind you, it was more of an off-white creme color, and was made of soft lace. It was sleeveless so the winter wind gave you a chill, you hoped Technoblade picked a place that wasn’t freezing cold. You took a breath to hype yourself up and stepped out of the shack, the dress trailing behind you, you had left the veil in the box figuring you didn’t need it right now. The first person to spot you was Ghostbur, who gasped loudly bringing his hands up to his face after spotting you. You shrunk in on yourself a little bit and your cheeks turned a light pink in response, “That’s a good expression I hope.” You meekly laughed as Ranboo turned around and let out a shaky break of surprise. He reached forward with his claws to touch the soft fabric,

“It’s perfect! Fits like a glove.” Wilbur hummed happily floating around you, “I was right by the way, you look beautiful. Techno’s going to pass out.”

“Shut up I can’t look that good.”

“You do though!” Ranboo shouted excitedly, “It suits you perfectly not that I had any doubts or anything.” He jumped a little on the balls of his feet, he pulled out his memory book quickly scribbling something down inside it, as he did so he muttered “I’m the best honorary maid of honor ever.”

“You definitely are.” You praised the halfling who only seemed to grow more excited at the praise, Ghostbur cleared his throat, was he looking for a compliment too? “Ghostbur you’re a lifesaver, if it wasn’t for you I’d be walking down the aisle in Netherite. Thank you.” Ghostbur seemed to preen a little as he smiled proudly,

“I know. I’m pretty great aren’t I? I basically saved the day.”

“You certainly are.”

“Oh! Just return the dress the next time I see you after the wedding okay?”

“I will have no fear, it’s in safe hands.” The ghost nodded, “I can’t wait to see it in action tomorrow.”

“Me too,” you sighed lovingly, doing a little twirl in the dress you could only imagine the look that would appear on Technoblade’s face when he saw you.

You hoped the voices would approve because Technoblade was absolutely going to short circuit and go feral, you could hardly wait.

Day 3: The Wedding Day

The night before the wedding Technoblade couldn’t sleep his body was buzzing with nerves, which was a foreign feeling to him. He was worried about you not sleeping by his side, this was the first time since you’ve officially gotten together that you weren’t there. He didn’t realize how much he missed your presence and warmth, he pulled the pillow you usually used close to his chest. He felt like a love-struck teenager cuddling the pillow of his missing girlfriend because that’s basically what he was, except instead of a girlfriend it was his fiance. The voices didn’t help his longing either; they were roaring in his head asking where you were and when you would come back.

Where’s (Y/N)? I miss her! Can Ranboo protect her if something goes wrong? What if Dream gets ahold of her in the meantime and you’re up here sleeping? I wanna squeeze her thighs again right now. E. That’s disgusting, stop, don’t sexualize her like that. B U T T. Can I get a big pog for butts? Thighs for the thigh god.

His entire face went a deep scarlet, “What does that even mean guys.” Technoblade let out a loud groan of embarrassment, some of the voices laughed, some others rumbled with anger. “I just want her by my side is all, I miss her. I miss her touch...I don’t know when I became such a sap. I hate that I care about her this much, but god without her I’d be lost.”

SIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMP

“You shits.”

The morning rolled around and Technoblade woke up as soon as the sun shone through the windows. He fell asleep around three in the morning, tired as shit, bees buzzing around in his stomach.

Today’s the day! Gotta get ready as soon as possible, you’re gonna look so handsome! I bet (Y/N)’s gonna be equally as beautiful! Don’t fuck it up. Celebratory murder spree pog? She’ll think you’re so hot covered in blood. No! E. Normalcy is key!

He shook his head to get rid of the nagging voices rattling around in his head, he knew what he had to do, and listening to the voices wasn’t one of them. Phil was going to come soon and Technoblade had to look presentable so they could head to the venue and Phil could set up some last-minute decorations. Techno would say he felt bad making Phil do most of the work, but he honestly didn’t, especially since he was so inept at romance in the first place. Never one to wear a suit Technoblade decided his best outfit would be his arctic retirement one, a suit would be too constricting. After all, what if it was attacked and he needed to jump into action, Phil had told him that he was absolutely not allowed to bring weapons which he was not happy about at all. Although the man did reassure him that he would be armed and have an extra weapon just in case something was to occur, he guessed that was FINE. With a soft huff, the man stood up from his bed and pulled out his outfit, the soft blue made him yearn for the days before they found Tommy living under the house. In a way wearing this symbolized a time in their relationship before he was forced into bloodshed once again, plus he knew you loved the fuzzier outfit.

Putting on everything, he brought the fur cape around his shoulders, his crown glittering on his head in the light. He looked regal, he would say he looked like a king but he hated all forms of government so he just looked like his usual badass self. In his closet sat his wedding gift to you, it was a gold tiara that matched his crown in his own way finally solidifying the both of you as a blood god duo.

Turning away from the tiara he grabbed a hairbrush to tame his wild hair, he wanted to do something different with it. It spilled around his back and down to his waist, he managed to tame the frizz with some product that he ‘borrowed’ from you. In the end, he had two small braids framing his face, he grabbed both of them and pinned them together on the back of his head. A half-up half-down look almost made him look like a Viking, he liked it. Technoblade placed gold earrings along with his ears and added some gold accents on his wrists and fingers, none overshading his engagement ring.

His ears twitched hearing the door open downstairs, Phil was here, it was time.

“Hellooo!” Technoblade called from upstairs and Phil responded with a cheerful,

“Hey mate!”

As Technoblade descended the ladder, Phil smiled fondly at his old friend, he immediately adjusted the cape on his shoulders. Technoblade huffed a small laugh, “Was that really necessary?”

“Obviously. I’m the married one, I know what I’m doing.” He shot back snickering, “You ready to go?”

“As I’ll ever be I suppose.”

“I’m proud of you man,” Phil responded with a fatherly smile “You’re never going to forget today. It’ll be the best of your life.”

“Ehhhh I don’t know about that. Spawning those Withers and blowing up a country really gave me a rush.”

“Oh fuck off,” Phil howled with laughter while shoving the snickering piglin. “This’ll be an entirely new feeling, I would know.” His wings puffed out happily remembering his marriage fondly,

“Didn’t you marry a fridge?”

“You’re literally the worst.”

Technoblade smirked just happy he steered the conversation away from any of that mushy crap. He was going to get enough of that as it is in a few hours, oh look at that the bees are back. Phil gave him a pat on the back and the two of them left the house side by side. The spot Technoblade picked out for the wedding was one both of you would like, a snowy taiga, it was warm enough that you wouldn’t freeze to death but still had the beautiful powdery snow that Tecnhoblade loved. Phil had done an amazing job of setting everything up, on the arch, there were beautiful blue flowers interspersed with white roses (both of which you picked out prior), they stood out beautifully against the wooden trellises. There was a carved stone pathway leading the way up to the arch and a few wooden benches decorated with light blue silk so whomever (Y/N) invited could sit down. He knew most of them would only be there for her, he was okay with that, all he needed was Phil and Ranboo and he was content. Next to each booth was a stone pillar, on top of them sat a bouquet of white and blue roses.

“You really outdid yourself, thank you.” Technoblade whistled,

“You know I’d do anything for you mate. Glad I could provide, I do have one last little decoration though.” Phil mused reaching into his bag he pulled out a small gold bell similar to the one he had inside his house. He placed the bell above the arch so it would chime softly when the wind blew against its side. Technoblade smiled fondly at the sight and wrapped his arm around Phil’s shoulder.

“I love it. (Y/N)’s gonna love it too.”

“Thanks, man.” Phil said softly bumping against the blade, “Do you know who’s going to show up by the way?”

“Absolutely no idea.”

“Guess we’re gonna find out, look.” Technoblade stepped away from Phil and looked in the direction of his friend, cresting over the hill seemed to be two girls, Technoblade was immediately confused because he didn’t realize you had friends who were women. Phil let out a small laugh, “Oh it’s Niki and Puffy, Ranboo must’ve introduced (Y/N) to them.” Technoblade only nodded his lips twitching into a frown, new people...gross.

“Hi, Phil! Technoblade!” Puffy chirped brightly, her hand intertwined with Niki’s tightly, “Congratulations to you Mr.” She lightly tapped Technoblade in the chest he blinked in surprise,

“Thank you?”

“I may have just met (Y/N), but just know if you do ANYTHING to hurt her at all I will slaughter you.”

“Darling please…” Niki sheepishly smiled, “you realize you’re threatening Technoblade right? Not the best idea.”

“It’s alright. I admire your gumption,” Technoblade gave the both of them a thumbs up in response, “I’m glad (Y/N) has someone else like that looking out for her. But, just so you know. The same to you.” He eyed the both of them with a sharp look in his eyes, Puffy let out a nervous laugh and Niki narrowed her eyes warily.

“That’s fair.”

“Anyway!” Phil cleared his throat, “let's not ruin this before it even starts.” He led the two girls over to their seats with a small smile, “(Y/N) will be super happy to see you both by the way. Thank you for coming.”

“Of course, (Y/N) and I are soulmates after all.” Puffy swooned happily as Niki giggled fondly at her antics, “Technoblade better watch out. Niki and I will steal her heart.”

“I’ll be sure to warn him,” He snickered, glancing over at his friend who was sniffing at the flowers in the pots. “If you need anything don’t hesitate to ask, Wilbur should be here soon then (Y/N) and Ranboo will come and it’ll start.”

“Sounds good,” Niki hummed playing with the sleeves of her blue dress “I’m super excited to meet her.”

While Puffy reassured her that she would, Phil noticed his son floating over to the area. “Hello, Phil!” The ghost’s eyes lit up seeing all of them, “Oh wow everything is so beautiful!”

“Thanks, Ghostbur.” Technoblade hummed walking over to Phil and the ghost,

“I’m proud of you too Mr. Engaged!” He snickered as Technoblade’s nose scrunched up in distaste, “Who knew the big, scary Technoblade would settle down with a wife, maybe start a family eventually.”

“I’m going to pretend that I didn’t hear any of the cringy nonsense that just came out of your mouth; so I can enjoy today in peace.”

"Boo! I’m just happy for you!” Ghostbur huffed in annoyance, “I was telling (Y/N) yesterday that marrying Sally was the best day of my life! I’m so making fun of you when you get all mushy.”

“IF I get all mushy, which I won’t.”

“Sure you won’t man,” Technoblade glared at his friends in frustration if this teasing was going to continue. He was kidnapping (Y/N) himself and getting married to her elsewhere.

“I do love all the blue though!” The ghost of Wilbur swooned happily at all the flowers, “This just makes the entire day even better!-”

However he didn’t get to continue as Ranboo cleared his throat rather loudly, the enderboy looked dapper as always, a rose was pinned on his lapel, obviously from (Y/N).

"Ready Techno?” Phil looked over at him, the pigman’s frustration and confidence fell from his face all at once. Even Ghostbur was shocked at the way Technoblade tensed up and fumbled with the soft fluff on his cape, “Techno?”

It’s time. Holy fuck! She’s going to be stunning, he’s going to be a husband! HE’S GOING TO BE A HUSBAND? Oh fuck.

“Techno mate you alright?”

"Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Let's do this.” Technoblade took a deep breath walking over to the altar with Phil, Phil was obviously officiating the wedding. He didn’t want anyone else doing it, Ranboo smiled at the two of them as he walked down the aisle throwing little flower petals everywhere before standing on (Y/N)’s side of the altar. He gave him a happy little nod, Technoblade nodded back at him in a sign that he was happy to see him. Music began to flow through the air, Technoblade just knew Wilbur had managed to bring a jukebox, but he didn’t mind it was fitting.

He turned towards the rich sound and for once in his life the voices...stopped.

Technoblade could hear the music perfectly, he heard the chiming of the bell every time the wind blew, everything seemed clear and for all the sounds that were playing around him without the rancorous voices, it all seemed deadly quiet.

The true reason the voices stopped though was because he saw you.

Elegant. Magnificent. Royalty.

The words spun around in his head, because god you looked angelic as you walked towards him. He wished your face wasn’t obscured by a veil, he wanted to see you, to cup your cheeks and pull you into a desperate kiss. He wasn’t worthy to marry you, he was barely worthy to breathe the same air as someone so pure. Technoblade bit down on his tongue rather harshly, for once in his life he wished the voices would speak up so he wouldn’t feel so small in his head.

“Hi.”

Your silvery voice snapped him out of his thoughts, he drew in a shaky breath and looked at you.

“Hi,” His voice cracked a little and he flushed all the way up to the tips of his ears. He reached out to squeeze your hands tightly, he felt you squeeze back and he knew that everything was okay. Fuck, he was tearing up a little and he hasn’t even seen your face yet, fuck...Ghostbur was right. He was a mushy gross mess, you giggled a little at his flustered expression.

“You look handsome,” You whispered softly tilting your head to the side.

“You’re Aphrodite herself.”

“Take it back. Take it back right now.” The teasing tone your voice took made him relax considerably, you were still you. His lovely almost wife who’d he got to spend the rest of his life with, it was perfect, you were perfect.

“You know I do, even if it kills me to retract the statement.” His hand reached forward and gently pushed the veil back over your head.

Fuck.

It took all his strength not to kiss you senseless. Phil cleared his throat and smiled at the small crowd of people who came to the wedding, Puffy seemed to already be emotional, Niki rubbing her back with gentle circles. The both of you barely paid any attention to the introductions and the little details too engrossed in one another to truly listen to anyone that wasn’t each other. They both snapped to attention when Phil spoke their names with a tender smile and their wedding rings were in his hands.

“Your wedding rings are the outward and visible sign of the inward and invisible bond which already unites you two hearts in love. Groom, place the ring on Bride’s finger and repeat after me….I give you this ring…”

“I give you this ring.” Technoblade swallowed thickly listening carefully to Phil’s words as you smiled adoringly, the pink spreading across your cheeks was adorable. He shakily slid the diamond ring on your finger,

“Wear it with love and joy.”

“As this ring has no end, My love is also forever.”

“Good job man.” He winked teasingly at Technoblade breaking character to complement his friend, “Bride, place the ring on Groom’s finger and repeat after me….I give you this ring.”

“I give you this ring.”

“Wear it with love and joy.”

“As this ring has no end, my love is also forever.”

“As this ring has no end, my love is also forever.” You breathed softly staring into Technoblade’s eyes and right into his soul. No doubts, only love. Phil continued on,

“May the wedding rings you exchanged today to remind you always that you are surrounded by enduring love and so now by the power vested in me by...me, it is my honor and delight to declare you husband and wife. You may seal this declaration with a kiss.” You didn’t need to be told twice as you threw your arms around Technoblade’s shoulders smothering him with a kiss. He let out a breathy laugh against them, before kissing you back just as passionately. Technoblade’s hands rested on your lower back and he held you like you were a perfect porcelain doll. “I am pleased to present the newlyweds, Mr. and Mrs… ugh Blade! We’ll go with that.” The man laughed as you pulled away from Technoblade to join in his laughter, you pulled Phil into a hug and motioned for Ranboo to join in, both did so, although Ranboo’s was slightly reluctant.

“Thank you both for everything. My sweet Borealis boys.” You cooed, Phil only laughed and Ranboo’s entire face flushed deeply at the nickname.

“We love you obviously,” Phil hummed “You don’t need to thank us. Right Ranboo?”

“Do I really have to say it?”

“Yes.” Technoblade spoke gruffly, “If you don’t she might cry.”

“Yeah, Ranboo don’t make me cry on my wedding day.”

“Oh, Christ...Fine! I love you too…thank you for giving me a home. Caring for me...all of that. You don’t know how much that means to me.” Ranboo looked up at you and you immediately wrapped him in another tight hug, he let out a little whimper and buried his face in your hair.

“You’ll always be welcome here Ranboo. We’ll always be your home so long as you’ll have us.”

“Shit,” He laughed a little wetly pulling away from you, “I’ll have to write that down.”

“You mean you’ll forget it? Rude.” It was Technoblade who chimed in this time and Ranboo flushed in embarrassment once again. He hunched in on himself before sputtering,

“No, no, no not what I meant! What I mean is like-”

“Ranboo you’re fine mate.” Phil snickered, reaching up to ruffle his hair, “loosen up a little.”

“(Y/N)!” You turned towards the shouting of your new friends and your face lit up,

“Puffy!” The two girls threw their arms around you in a warm hug, even though you didn’t know Niki yet you’re never one to turn down a hug.

Your final conclusion of the night: Niki was absolutely lovely and she and Puffy were relationship goals.

~~~

Candles were littered around the room as you and Technoblade swayed gently to soft music in your bedroom. The both of you were finally alone, and officially married, the first thing Technoblade wanted to do was have the first dance with you. It surprised you that a dance was that important to him, but you came to the conclusion that he just wanted to hold you as close as possible. “I have a gift for you,” Technoblade spoke up rather suddenly and you frowned,

“We said no gifts.”

“When have I EVER listened to authority Princess?”

“Touche,” You snapped your fingers in his direction and he snickered. He pulled away from you and you flopped down on the bed, you watched him walk over to the closet and pull out a medium-sized velvet box. “Bubs what the hell…” You murdered as he placed it into your arms, “please tell me you didn’t go too crazy.”

“I didn’t. I made it by hand,” Technoblade urged you to open it. You did so pulling off the top, jaw-dropping onto the floor. He knew that reaction was positive and pride swelled in his heart, he knew his girl well. He watched as you lifted the golden tiara out of the box, it was littered with gems that matched his crown, your thumb brushed against them in awe.

“You made this?”

“Just for you Princess. Thought you needed something to fit your name.”

“I’m so in love with you.”

“Good thing you're my wife then,” he felt his stomach swoop happily and by the way you gently caressed the crown, he knew you felt the same about him. “Put it on Princess I wanna see how it looks on you.” Your face turned red as you did as he asked, his eyes grew half-lidded and he kneeled down in front of you, “Stunning.” He kissed the inside of your wrist, his voice turning gruff, “beautiful.” A kiss was placed on your forearm, “gorgeous,” On your shoulder, “My princess. My good girl.” Technoblade pressed a hot kiss to your neck, you leaned back your breath hitching in your throat.

“Techno…” You whined softly, “I love you.”

“Love you more.”

“Love you most,” He purred, capturing your lips in a heated kiss.

~~~

The dogs' rapid barking stirred you from your rest, Technoblade grumbled beside you as you sat up in bed letting the covers fall from your shoulders. The air nipped at your bare skin and you frowned, you couldn’t help but wonder what bothered the dogs so suddenly, “Go back to bed.” Technoblade demanded his hand caressing the small of your back, you leaned back against the warm touch but you couldn’t shake away your worry.

“I’ll be back in two seconds.” You leaned down to kiss the top of his head, he only hummed in response. Big guy knew you could handle yourself just fine, n’ that’s why you loved him. You slipped on a robe and your slippers before making your way to the dogs, stepping inside you heard quite a few of them whining, they just seemed genuinely bothered. “What’s going on huh guys?” You cooed scratching them behind their ears, sensing your comforting presence they seemed to calm down considerably, “What’s got my fearsome guard puppies so spooked.”

“That’d probably be me.”

You jumped halfway in the air, whipping around you came face to face with the hollow white mask that Dream commonly wore.

“Fucking shit Dream what the hell?” You pressed your hand to your heart, your dogs growling lowly all around you. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“My bad.” He smirked in a way that showed he wasn’t at all sorry, “I’m a little disappointed I didn’t get an invitation to the wedding.”

“Would you have even shown up?” You raised an eyebrow as he stepped closer to you, Nightmare was at his hip making your bad vibe senses light up like a wildfire. He hummed thoughtfully rubbing his chin,

“Probably not. But, I decided I’d drop by and give you my congratulations.” He was close enough that you could smell him, he smelled like burning wood and dirt; like a little pissbaby worm.

“Well thank you,” You wrapped the robe tighter around your body like it suddenly dropped ten degrees. “You can go now-” You started before you were pressed up against the wall, his fearsome blade Nightmare at your throat. The dogs began to bark and howl at the man’s heels but they couldn’t do much without a direct command, but you hoped it would be enough to draw Technoblade out of the house.

“Clearly Technoblade cares about you much more than I had originally calculated. It’s kind of pathetic if I’m being honest. Someone like you who's so small, so pathetic, could bring Technoblade, the fearsome blood god himself, down like that. Make him soft. We can’t exactly have that now, can we? We need him...How do I say this...a bit feral, unhinged.”

“You realize you kill me, you can count on him hunting you down and slaughtering you right? I can’t say for sure the ‘favor’ is completely off the table but he’ll half-ass it that’s for sure.” You snarled right back in Dreams face, tempted to spit in it.

“Oh, I’m not going to kill you, babe.” His voice dripped like honey, its sickly sweet tone made your stomach churn. “But we’re going to get really comfortable with one another, for the time being, you’re under my custody.”

“What the fuck does that mean you freak-” He hit you on the back of the head with Nightmare, successfully knocking you out. That caused one of the dogs to absolutely lose it, jumping up and tearing off a piece of Dreams bright green hoodie. He snarled at the dog and jolted when he heard Technoblade call for (Y/N), it was close. He quickly messaged his accomplice and was teleported out of the situation, via his own stasis chamber, appearing back in his home base. He smiled wickedly under his mask, as Enderman noises could be heard behind him. He adjusted the girl in his grip, the next few days were going to be a lot of fun.

: )

~~~

Leave your comments below and I hope you enjoyed! Memes and fanart is also always welcome your girl is thirsty for any scrap of content.

625 notes · View notes

my-whumpy-little-heart · 4 years

Text

Llyr and the Pirates - Day 13

Day 13: Fishhooks

For @amonthofwhump‘s Water Whump May, where I write a part of this story every day according to the prompt. Alright, a little late, but a longer part today as promised! The real good whump is coming tomorrow, but I accidentally wrote too much ominous dialogue to fit it in.

Oh, and this is the second whumper I’ve named after a knight of the round table; someone please stop me now lol Tag list: @spiffythespook, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog, @insanitywishes, @whumpingonarainyday Content warnings: manhandling/noncon touching, threats of death

They stepped through a doorway and came out right in the area Llyr had entered through just earlier, and he could see both Ray and Hugh, halfway across the sand, now staring up at the unexpected company.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” the man in front of Llyr said, “how may I help you this fine evening? You look like you might be lost.”

Ray made eye contact with the man, but turned its eyes to Llyr for just a second, shooting a concerned glance.

“Well, we’ve just crashed on the beach nearby and were looking for shelter and a missing crew member, but I see that you found him before we did. I’m really sorry if he’s done anything to offend you, but if you let him go now we’ll get out of your hair and I’ll handle him from there.” Ray said, face held in a blank mask of compliance even though fear and anxiety were hidden just beneath.

“Mmh…” the man seemed to consider it for a moment, looking both other humans up and down. “...what did you say your names were?” Hugh and Ray shared a quick glance.

“We didn’t…” Hugh started, obviously considering questioning this person before realizing what a disadvantage he had in that situation. “...I’m Hugh Williams.”

“And I’m Captain Raymond Bates of The Thief’s Halyard.”

“Thief’s Halyard,” the man parroted thoughtfully, “Yes, that does sound right.”

“The name is only exaggerated of course,” Ray amended, waving his hands in front of him. “Keeps others from mistaking us for weaklings, though we try not to make a habit of outright thievery…”

“Raymond, I’m not sure I agree with you. I found the name fitting, really, considering how this little one seemed dead set on stealing right out from under our noses tonight, weren’t you?” It turned to Llyr, giving a wide, predatory smile.

“No, I didn’t,” he grumbled, “I thought it was abandoned. I just wanted to get dry.”

“Oh, but apparently getting dry also involves digging through the chests of current residents to steal their possessions,” it responded dryly, and Llyr narrowed his eyes.

“I didn’t do that,” he insisted, “and I wouldn’t have even had the chance to before you all found me.”

“Really? So if I searched your pockets, you’re sure I wouldn’t find anything in there that proves what you did?” It turned to him with a curious tilt of the head and he paused. It felt like a trap. A dirty trick where he’d be found guilty whether he confessed or not. But he genuinely hadn’t taken anything from them, so there was no way to prove it in the first place.

So then why did this human still look so satisfied with itself?

“I. Didn’t. Do. Anything.” Llyr huffed through gritted teeth, and he felt the grip around his arms tighten.

“Alright, okay. We’re just going to make sure you’re telling the truth.” It raised its hands in a mocking surrender before gesturing to one of his men. It was shorter than Llyr, and possibly even shorter than Ray, but it still looked like it could snap his arm in two with the flick of a finger.

It wasted no time in checking his pockets, reaching first into the one in his shirt, then the ones in his pants. Llyr squirmed the whole way through, trying to get away from the invasive hands, but he was braced against someone else’s chest behind him, allowing the quick search. He was about to breathe a sigh of relief when the hands left, only to see something long, metallic, and shiny in the man’s hand. What the hell?

“Look familiar?” it held the chain up, metal glinting in the light of the lantern. There was a pendant hanging at the bottom that it grabbed and squinted at to read. “There’s an engraving here that reads… oh, huh. It’s your name, captain.”

Llyr’s breath catches in his throat as the leading man, the so called ‘captain’, leans over behind him. “Would you look at that? ‘Gawain Davis,’ it says. My precious, prized locket indeed.” it said, a thin frown across its face. “I keep that in my personal quarters at all times. You filthy wretch; did your foolish captain really send you snooping around in there?” Gawain asked, but Llyr was still staring in disbelief at the locket. He hadn’t stolen that, obviously, but he hadn’t even noticed anyone putting it in his pocket. It was the captain’s own too; did he have this planned the whole time?

“Knew it,” Hugh muttered, almost too quietly to hear, “Come on, Ray, we’re going. Leave the kid to the sharks and we’ll go find Mabel.” It tugged on Ray’s elbow, and Llyr looked up, shooting both of them a pleading glance. He didn’t want to die, and no matter their intentions, they hadn’t wanted him to either. They couldn’t leave him with these ruthless humans.

“No. We’re not leaving him. I don’t believe what Sir Gawain is saying,” it mocked the name specifically, but he wasn’t sure why, “because I didn’t order any of this. We crashed here on a smaller craft and need a dry place to sleep. I’m sure that’s what Llyr was thinking too.”

“Is that all you needed, then?” Gawain asked, contemplatively. Ray hesitated.

“...yes.”

“Oh, we’re definitely open to helping, then, if that’s your problem!” it said, tone of voice flipped completely on its head, but his face still stone cold and impassive. Without warning, it reached for the sword around its waist, drew it, and laid the blade flat across Llyr’s neck. His breath caught in his throat, and his eyes went wide. This was it.

“Stop it! What the hell are you doing?!” Ray shouted, shifting its weight anxiously between feet. It looked like it was seconds away from taking off towards him, but was only held back by the threat held tight against Llyr’s throat.

“If you want him to live, you will stand completely still and hold your hands out, palms up.” Gawain commanded, voice chillingly cool again within a matter of seconds. The crew members that had been standing back came forward then, chains and manacles in their hands, just like the pair they’d forced on Llyr.

Part of him wanted to whine and shout that it wasn’t worth it; they should just leave him to die and let that be the end of it… but the other part of him knew he wasn’t that brave.

No, that wasn’t it. He just didn’t care so much about these humans. Justifiably, too. One had already hurt him, and one was clearly planning to. So if they had to stay here and suffer with him, he wouldn’t be so upset.

He looked up to see Ray hesitantly holding out its hands, confusion and fear still clouding its eyes, but Hugh didn’t seem to be relenting just yet. It looked like it was about to bolt even as the sailors approached, and as soon as it seemed like they might try and force it into the cuffs, it did run.

“Fuck this, I don’t care about the brat! Kill him if you wanna, I don’t care I don’t care-!” It only made it a few meters before two people were on it, wrestling it into the sand and wrenching a pained shout from it. When they finally secured the chains and lifted Hugh from the ground, Llyr saw that it’d landed directly on a splintering piece of wood and scratched up its chest which was now beading up with blood.

He stood very still now that both of the others had been restrained and the sword was still pressed against his neck. He expected it to cut in at any moment, bleeding him dry on its blade, but instead Gawain pulled it away and sheathed it, clean of blood.

“What do you want from us?” Ray asked, looking at Llyr, then back to the captain.

“From you? Nothing, really. I’ll give you your nice, dry night of sleep, but before that, both of you need to be taught a lesson on lying to a nobleman,” it scoffed, but that name didn’t mean very much to Llyr. Ray held its ground as well.

“I didn’t lie to you, and neither did he.”

“Do you have anything to genuinely prove that? Both of you seem to be spitting accusations and forgetting the locket I had to fish out of this brat’s pocket.” Gawain smiled when Ray didn’t respond, and took hold of the chain between Llyr’s wrists.

“You being a nobleman means nothing,” it tried again, but even it seemed to realize this was futile. Hugh shook its head in disappointment.

“Oh, it doesn’t mean anything out on the open seas, of course. But if I were to take you back to the palace I’m not so sure they’d be so merciful to a lot of pirates like yourselves. You could all be dead right now. So, be grateful.”

Gawain yanked on the chain again and Llyr stumbled behind him to outside the ship where, surprisingly, the rain had nearly stopped. It was more of a mist through the air that dotted the landscape. The sun wasn’t up quite yet, but it was already lighter than it had been earlier.

It led him over to a wet, puddling, sandy patch near the ship, seemingly testing it with its foot before deeming it alright for Llyr to stand on. Gawain looked up to the deck above where… there were ropes lowering down. What were those for? Who had set them up?

“Hands up, over your head,” it commanded, and he looked around shakily. The ropes were lower now, and on the edges there were sharp hooks, like fishhooks but larger, sharper, and more menacing. He swallowed nervously, raising shaky hands.

“What- what are those for?”

“They’re to pull you out when we’re done.” it replied, simply, and he gave a puzzled look. Pull him out of what, exactly?

Llyr glanced around himself, feeling the sand shift and squish below his feet. It took him a few more seconds to realize he was sinking alarmingly quickly into it, but the panic only set in when he realized-

He couldn’t pull his feet out.

Next part

#just posted this and then remembered i should pROBABLY TAG IT OOPS #whump #WaterWhump2020 #ww-no.13 #like a minute after midnight this is fine this is fine #held at knifepoint #sword knife same difference #sword to the neck #whatever #manhandling #noncon touching tw #threats of death #pirate whump #selkie whump #hurrah

18 notes · View notes

terresdebrume · 4 years

Text

Witcher of the rings - Snippet 8

Previous snippets: In the tag

Note: You know, when I thought of this verse I wasn’t planning on spending that much time talking about the nature of orcs but, idk. Jaskier had a point to make, and I’m betting Legolas, gimli and Aragorn will want to follow up on geralt’s enigmatic one-liner so I guess we’re not done with the topic.

Ping list: @formerlyknownas-delight @theheirofashandfire @somedrunkpirate

(As always, let me know if you want on or off the ping list^^)

“It seems I spoke of your recovery too hastily,” Boromir says when Jaskier bends down to puke again, “I apologize.”

It’s hard to give someone any kind of reassurance when you’re heaving your guts out, even if you’ve reached the point where it’s more bile than anything else, so Jaskier just continues to focus on not falling knees first in vomit while Boromir, hand uncovered, rubs soothing circles over his back.

He disposed of the Orcs’ corpses a while back, tossing them into a natural ditch barely deep enough to hide them. It’s good that dawn is coming because there’s no way Jaskier would have agreed to camp here after that.

“Sorry,” he manages after a long while, grateful to find he hasn’t pissed himself during the skirmish, “I’ve never killed anyone before.”

Boromir, in the process of passing him some water, freezes, something not unlike a frown marring his expression. Jaskier doesn’t notice it right away, too busy washing the foul taste out of his mouth, but when he does, he can’t help but frown right back.

“What? Do I have puke on my face?”

“No, no,” Boromir reassures, as if coming out of a trance like state, “I merely…I must admit I am surprised that this should be the source of your distress rather than simple fear for your life.”

“Why,” Jaskier asks, brushing a stray patch of vomit off his shirt with a disgusted grimace, “didn’t you feel something more when you killed someone for the first time?”

“Of course!” Boromir exclaims, clearly offended. “I am a soldier, not a heartless murderer! But an Orc is something, not someone.”

“On what basis?”

It is very clear, from the look on Boromir’s face, that this question never occurred to him. Jaskier would scoff but, well. Dol Blathana.

“What do you mean?”

“Well I’m no expert on Orcs, but from what I understand so far, they have their own language. They’re capable of independent thought, as evidenced by the fact that one of them tried to flee—”

“As for that,” Boromir scoffs, looking a little surer of himself, “Orcs are cowardly creatures.”

“Yet the others fought,” Jaskier points out. “And beyond that…three of them wore ornaments none of the others did. If they’re mindless beasts, why the trinkets? They didn’t seem to have a utilitarian purpose.”

“You seem to have noticed a great deal of details for someone who narrowly avoided having his throat bitten off.”

“My brain works in mysterious ways,” Jaskier shrugs.

In all honesty, he wouldn’t have spared attention for that detail if he’d been in charge of what got noticed at the time, but he did see it and he can hardly un-notice things, can he?

“You haven’t answered my question,” Jaskier reminds Boromir after a while, less gentle than he’d have thought. “Why are Orcs not people?”

“They were made,” Boromir says, and he sounds kind of subdued now, like he’s not entirely sure of what he’s saying. “Ages ago. I doubt you wish to hear the full tale, and in any case, I am not well versed in it…but the first Orcs were Elves. Taken, tortured and twisted until they became—”

“So was Geralt,” Jaskier says without waiting for the end of that sentence.

There’s already a fierce burn of anger in his arms and ears, and he doesn’t actually want to fight with Boromir. Not over something he wasn’t aware of, at any rate, and certainly not while he could potentially leave Jaskier alone in the wilderness (he really didn’t enjoy the trek back down from Cainghorn).

He can’t just ignore the rhetoric or the parallels either, though, and so he keeps talking:

“He was a human boy who got taken like countless others, and fed potions that put him through indescribable pain until he emerged a Witcher.”

There weren’t many books on Witcher in the Oxenfurt libraries but Jaskier, boiling with rage at Geralt’s abandonment and looking for whatever kind of witchery potion turned them into gigantic asshole, read quite enough of them to learn about the statistics, and the very simple process of taking Witchers’ emotions out: beat them until they stop crying. That’s how Jaskier learned to keep going through almost anything, too—brief vomiting breaks aside—and a fact that explained a lot of things about Geralt. He’s not ashamed to say that knowledge played a significant role in his ability to go through Elrond’s council without ripping into Geralt all fangs bared.

Right now, it’s also a fact that makes him cast sympathy where he would never have expect to bestow it.

“He sees better in the dark than we do, hears better than we do, is used to a much more violent life than we lead… But he can’t have kids. From the sound of it, not a problem for Orcs.”

Boromir, when Jaskier focuses enough to pay attention to his face, is gaping. Frankly, Jaskier doesn’t blame him.

“I don’t know,” he says, fully aware that his attempt at levity is falling flat, “maybe I’m wrong. I certainly don’t have the kind of experience with Orcs that I have with Geralt, but it’s kind of hard to ignore the similarities here.”

“Orcs destroy everything they touch,” Boromir points out, and Jaskier sighs through a wince.

“When I met Geralt, the whole Continent knew him as the Butcher of Blaviken,” he says, then he sighs again: “look I’m not going to lie and say I’m fond of Orcs myself. That lot certainly didn’t inspire confidence. I’m just saying, just because everyone assumes a thing is true doesn’t make it so. And for the record, the way you talk about Orcs? Where we’re from that’s more or less how some people talk about Elves.”

Boromir nods, as if dumbstruck, and Jaskier manages a bit of a grin. He still feels shaky and pale, but not like he’s about to topple to the ground anymore which, hey. Progress. With an effort, Jaskier straightens up, staring that the way the sky pales in the East, and says:

“We should probably get going. You’re not exactly at your fastest yet, let’s not waste time.” “What you said,” Boromir tries instead of starting to walk, “about Geralt—”

Jaskier holds a wince back. In retrospect, yeah, that may not have been the smartest thing, detailing how he could be considered like a weird sort of Orc. Still, now the deed is done, and there’s nothing Jaskier can do but warn:

“Yeah, about that. I can’t control how it makes you feel about him but I’m warning you: if you ever start disrespecting or badmouthing him where I can hear, I will be hitting you in increasingly painful places, are we clear?”

“You forget I wear armor more often than not in these troubled times.”

“And you’re underestimating my stubbornness,” Jaskier replies with none of the teasing Boromir put in his tone. “I’m extremely serious on this, Boromir. Geralt has many faults and the gods know I’m fond of railing against them, but the circumstances of his transformation can’t be held against him and I won’t tolerate any attempt to do so.”

For a long moment, Boromir says absolutely nothing, just stares at Jaskier in a way that makes him want to squirm and look away. He doesn’t though. He makes himself keep looking instead, forcing his hands still by gripping the strap of his lute case as tight as he can, until at last something shifts in Boromir’s expression and he murmurs:

“I do believe, master bard, that I may have underestimated your fondness for the man also.” He smiles then, in a more normal tone, adds: “I shan’t hold Geralt’s painful past against him, of that you may be assured. Even were I now convinced of his inferiority, which I am not, it would be shameful of me to speak ill of one to whom I owe my life. Come, master Jaskier, we have a long way yet to Edoras, and much to discuss of philosophy and what makes a person a person. I must warn you, however, that I am not quite ready to attempt befriending an Orc yet, and I shall travel with my sword at the ready.”

“Yes, yes,” Jaskier manages through a surprisingly tight throat, “you big burly swordsmen are all the same: overly fond of swinging your blades around.”

Boromir snorts, not sounding nearly as scandalized as he did back when they left Imladris, and Jaskier grins.

#The Witcher #Lord of the Rings #Jaskier #Boromir #Witcher of the Rings #Matt writes #10n

14 notes · View notes

hamingo · 6 years

Text

Dragon Age OCS

Just a big ol' info post about all of my inquisitors~

(Under a cut because it’s very long)

Sarya Adaar:

• My only actual Inquisitor (the others are all made to be companions or just other ocs I made in dai for fun)

• Also the only one on this list with the canon backstory (mostly)

• The biggest girl but also the softest girl (She’s 6′6″)

• She's just trying her darndest honestly, but gets super stressed easily

• Specilaizes in Rift magic and the Fire + Spirit trees. Rift was because, well, she already had the mark, so she figured why not? The fire magic was what she felt most natural using, but it was so destructive she wanted to learn spirit/healing magic as well, to fix anything she might accidentally break

• She is actually just the sweetest babe ever

• Her magic came through when she was 11, in the same instance that her father died in. She wasn't the one to kill him, her magic was more of a desperate act to save him (but it didn't work). She lost her mother (who was also a mage) two years later (haven't decided how yet) and wandered alone for a while before coming across the leader of her merc gang. They basically raised her, and that's where the canon Adaar backstory kicks in

• I’m upset that qunari are not tieflings, and are just various shades of grey instead of being colourful. Just know that if this were D&D, she would be bubblegum pink and thriving

• Has a Ukranian accent for really no reason other than I’m Ukranian and will take any excuse to make my characters that as well. I don’t know what the Thedosian equivalent to eastern Europe is, but that’s where Sarya was raised when learning to speak I guess

Cyran Lavellan:

• His whole situation is a little all over the place so bear with me: in the Canon Universe (the one in which three friends and I all merge our games and characters together) he is named Cyran Mahariel, but he's NOT the HoF. He's the son of my Inquisition companion Kelley and the HoF's little sister, Valynne Mahariel. However, I turned him into a Lavellan so I could play him in dai, and his backstory is still essentially the same but he's not related to the HoF, who is Amell in this universe because Mahariel is actually Paige's and Cyran Lavellan is a character in my OWN canon without my friends and it's just... a lot going on there, I could make a whole separate post about it.

Long story short, he’s the kid of Kelley and Valynne (who is the keeper or either clan Sabrae or Lavellan depending on the universe)

• He's 5/8ths elven, his dad turned out to have an elven grandfather, and because genes in the da universe are stupid, I use that as an excuse as to why he has elven features and not human

• He doesn't have a specialization, and in-game, he uses shock magic, but I imagine him with nature magic

• His mom is the keeper, and he worked his ass off for the position of First once his magic came through, cause he knew he had both a human father and other people thinking his mom was just picking favourites to work against to win his clans respect and being named First

• Eventually, he gives up his childhood dream of being Keeper one day to stay with Sarya and stop Corypheus

• Travelled amongst clans and visited ruins and did all he could to learn all he could about ancient elves in a way of trying to prove (Mostly to himself) that he is dalish despite who his dad is

• Mihla thinks he's too hard on himself. She's right

Mihla Lavellan:

• Younger sister of Cyran

• She doesn't have cool magic like her brother, so she grabbed the biggest sword she could find and started swinging that around

• The Cool Sibling

• Much more accepting of her human side than Cyran. She was always the one who suggested going to Denerim to visit their dad instead of getting him to visit them at the clan

• She's also prone to flipping off anyone (elven or human) who tries to make her or her brother feel like they don't belong

• She goes to visit Cyran at Skyhold with the message that their mother is going to be forced to get a new First if he doesn't come home soon, but ends up going back and forth between clan Lavellan and Skyhold because she digs the action. Also she absolutely hooks up with Krem while there

• Eventually also leaves the clan and joins the chargers. Cause once again. She digs the action. (And the cute boy)

Natalia Trevelyan:

• My very first Inquisition character. I made her before I even got the game

• Also not an Inquisitor, she’s always meant to be a companion. She’s a con-artist who joins the Inquisition when she fucks over some Inquisition guards and abuses the title “Herald of Andraste” for money, and is captured by said guards and taken back to the Inquisition, where she is pardoned so long as she uses her talents to benefit the Inquisition

• She’s a protector and has devoted herself to keeping her mother and brother safe and fed

• She is a Trevelyan, but not a noble. Her mother was a lower class citizen from Ostwick and fell in love with one of the younger Trevelyan sons when they were both very young (Probably 17-18). They were married in secret when Natalia’s mother got pregnant with her, and their union managed to remain a secret for six years before his family heard, and fearing the blow to their reputation, ran Natalia and her mother out of town. They ended up in Kirkwall, and immediately lost the well-off lifestyle they had grown accustomed to

• She picked up how to defend herself and others by picking up long objects and swinging them at offenders. The objects got bigger and bigger until she eventually upgraded to an actual sword when Paige’s Inquisitor stole one for her when they fled Kirkwall together

• Is only 5′2″ but will fuck you up if you mess with someone she cares about

• Her specialization would be Guardian if they had that in Inquisition, and she uses a two-handed greatsword that is like as big as she is

• Is a lesbian and always down for messing with rich pricks, so naturally she romanced Sera

• I’m low-key in love with her

Kelley:

• Younger (half) brother of Natalia

• When they came to Kirkwall, the only way Natalia’s mother could make enough money to support them was by selling herself and eventually she worked her up to the Blooming Rose, where she eventually got pregnant with Kelley. (His mother doesn’t have a last name, and not knowing who his father is has left Kelley without one either)

• Along with his mother, has a recurring illness that affects the lungs and can be fatal (It’d be like what the refugee’s wife has in the Hinterlands), and since the family doesn’t know a cure for it, they often have to gather as much coin as possible to bribe an apostate to help them

• When Kelley was eight and Natalia was sixteen, the three of them decided to leave Kirkwall in search of a better life in Denerim, where their mother said she had a friend who could help them. However, this was during the Fifth Blight, and so they had a hard time finding a ship going back to Ferelden. They did find a small cargo ship smuggling an apostate, but refused to take all three of them. Since their mother was suffering from the illness at the time, Natalia convinced the cpatain to take their mother so the apostate could heal her, leaving her and Kelley to find their own way to Denerim (On this journey they met Paige’s Inquisitor!)

• The family friend had unfortunately perished in the blight, leaving the family in the same situation only in a different country

• Once in Denerim Kelley took to pickpocketing and occasionally breaking and entering to make money, but once he reached his later teens he took to the same work that his mother had in order to keep a constant flow of money coming to the family

• Joins the Inquisition at only nineteen after Natalia is taken by them, and the Inquisition discovers him while looking into her and take him and their mother in as well

• Dual blade rogue, specializing as an assassin

Evelyn Hawke:

• Daughter of Marian Hawke and Anders. In my canon, Marian was like a month pregnant during the finale there, and so Evelyn was born while both of her parents were on the run

• Was assigned male at birth, but transitioned pretty early on in her teen years (And thanks to a stroke of luck during cc is now the hottest babe in Thedas LOOK AT HER OMG I’M SO PROUD OF PRETTY SHE IS)

• MAGE RIGHTS!!!!!!

• Is a mage, and specializes in winter magic

• Also legally does not exist, as both of her parents are technically fugitives and so kept the knowledge of her existence limited to only their closest and most trusted friends

Lorraine Surana-Amell:

• Daughter of Neria Jaydin and Leliana

• Her existence is also pretty iffy because the Divine really shouldn’t have kids. And officially she didn’t there was just a period of about six months where Divine Victoria "got really sick" and very few people were allowed to visit her

• Is a mage (because I love mages) but instead of a traditional mage, she channels her magic through her bow and arrows, and so she can easily pass as non-mage and still be able to defend herself

• Also she’s Orlesian and I am so down for that (because I’m a sucker for french accents)

#my ocs #sarya #cyran #natalia #kelley #evelyn #lorraine #long post #i've had this post for a while i've finally got all of the pictures of them to post it #also this is gonna be like my master post so i will continue to add more stuff as i get it #and i might add marian and my wardens eventually too #so it'll be an ongoing thing

5 notes · View notes

alchemyxnotxmagic · 6 years

Text

Varian and the Three Good Doctors

Varian drabble equating Varian to three great literary doctors, with a dark twist at the end. SFW. Long so it will be under Read M

The first doctor

Varian…

Was he dreaming? He felt as if he were. It was like floating in nothingness, his name echoing around him, reverberating through the abyss. This must be one of those floating dreams…

Varian!

Funny… he hadn't recalled falling asleep.

VARIAN!

He felt cold… very cold. That was new. So was the pressure on his chest, almost… crushing. There was a rhythmic pounding. God he wished it would stop. Varian wanted to open his mouth, to complain about the pain… but he found his mouth unresponsive. His finger too. Hands… voice… he was not sure if he was asleep or awake.

VARIAN PLEASE!

Desperation echoed around him. That voice… that was familiar.

It was at this moment Varian felt the pain, all at once surge through his body. He wasn't breathing. He couldn't remember how to take a breath- another blow to the chest, he felt air wash into his mouth and in a fluid motion he gasped.

"Varian… oh god…"

It was his father's voice. Blurred vision was blinked away to see the blur of his father's face hovering over him. He could make out none of his features but he could feel something like rain falling onto his face. He felt a great weight upon him as his father vanished out of view. The feeling of rain vanished along with his dad's face.

"It's all right, Quirin, he's awake…" That sounded like the doctor. "You may have cracked a rib back there with that pressing. Be gentle with him."

Varian felt his body get moved into a sitting position. It was only then that he realized he was outside, in the snow, many villagers gathered around his father, pallid and face stained with tears was holding to him tightly. His chest felt as if it had been crushed as a dark, billowing smoke wafted outside of his lab doors. He took a shaky breath.

"Daddy?" His voice sounded choked and strangled. He felt his father wrap his arms around him, holding him close.

"Varian… you scared me… you promised you wouldn't work on that compound anymore. You knew it was unstable… you knew you could be hurt-" Quirin squeezed tighter, out of fear, out of the realization he had almost lost his son.

"Ow…" Varian protested the hold meekly. It was like the doctor had said, one of his ribs may have been cracked when his father attempted to force breath back into him, manually moving a heart that may as well have been stopped. Even now he could feel his strong, stone of a father trembling as he held him close, the 'rain' from earlier now obviously his father's tears.

"You have to stop this… Varian… I can't lose you." The unemotional voice of his dad was now filled with desperation. Varian had not heard it tremble that way since he stood at the grave where his wife lay next to an empty coffin that should have contained his daughter.

"D… dad… I'm sorry…" And he was, seeing his father like this, shaken and weak, it wasn't a good feeling. But it also wasn't a good feeling to see the world around him stagnate and fail to progress. There was a chance for the future- in science.

"Please… tell me you'll stop… tell me you'll be careful from now on…"

"S-sure dad… sure…"

Dr. Jekyll

The second Doctor

"You're that little weapon boy aren't you?" In any other situation, Varian would have been scared out of his mind. Lady Caine was not known for her generosity or her benevolence- and yet here he was standing before her. "I must say I'm shocked you were able to pull off that little jail break. Seems at least some people here are competent." She sent a sharp look at a young thief in the corner who instantly cowered away.

"That is correct, M'Lady." He bowed, his father had taught him politeness was always key when dealing with the fairer sex.

"You're just a weapon's dealer, right? Why the big break out? Need more customers?" She sat on one of the tables, legs crossed, examining him under the guise of examining her nails. Varian was too smart to fall for the bluff, he could feel that predatory gaze upon him.

"I have plenty of buyers. But what I lack is a group with the spunk and the vendetta to help with a new task. I need people with competence and knowledge."

"I can only vouch for myself in that regard, little boy."

"I'm not a child!" the snap had come out more vicious than he had intended and he quickly stepped back as the gaze upon him sharpened. In a swift, fluid movement he had a blade pressed to his throat and the woman was looking at him as if daring him to move again. "F-forgive me Lady Caine… my outburst was rude. I… I apologize."

"You had better." The sword was slipped away without so much as blinking to tear her gaze from him. He had cut it far too close and only her interest in him had spared him from his mistake. Varian swallowed, bowing his head respectful and submissive. He had a plan and he needed help to pull it off- real help from those who understood.

"I am aware that you also have a grudge against the royalty of Corona." He kept his head bowed, through the fabric of his coat he could feel the hungry eyes in the room around him. Every tiger just waiting to pounce.

"That is true." She was not backing away from him and he could feel his heart try to burst from his chest. "They can rot for all I care."

"They betrayed me too… they also… took my father…" It was difficult to say for sure, but for a moment, it was as if the woman's gaze had softened. At least she took a step back allowing him to breathe once more. "I want revenge."

"Respectable." She went back to sitting on the table, a flick of her wrist skewered an apple on a nearby table and she took a bite. An obvious show of strength. Varian respected it and kept his distance (and people thought Cassandra reminded them of a cobra?). "But tell me little boy, do you actually have a plan?"

"I do." He looked up from beneath the hood. "But… I need your help. There are things I will need to gather…" He knelt down offering up a list to the woman. She snatched it quickly, reading it over with a bit of suspicion in her gaze.

"These are some… dangerous items. There will be a might big cost for a score like this. You'll owe us for a very, very long time."

"Can you do it though?"

"Of course." The scoff implied he had offended her. "But you'll basically owe us your life."

"Anything." His eyes narrowed, hands tightening into fists. The look in his eyes was enough to make Lady Caine fall quiet as she met his gaze. "I need answers, and this is the only way to do it. I will give you anything if you can get me what I need."

Dr. Faustus

The Third Doctor

"Kid you are actually insane." Lady Caine sat behind him on one of the lab tables, eyeing the sheet skeptically as she watched the young inventor work. "I thought you were just eccentric at first, but I think you are actually certifiable."

"I didn't hire you for commentary."

"You didn't hire me at all. We made a deal." It sounded as if there were traces of regret in her voice. Varian felt it too. But he was too far- he had done too much to turn back now. "But I honestly didn't think this would work."

"What changed?"

"Now… I think it might. Don't get me wrong I want to see the fall if Corona just as much as you- but this may be crossing some lines."

"You should have thought about that before you got me everything I needed. This is a poor time to grow a conscious." Varian was too buried into his work to care at this point. They were past the point of no return and he suspected Cain knew it too.

"Is this really going to help you?"

"It's the only choice I have…"

"Really? Is it… really?" She stepped behind him, towering over him to examine what he was trying to keep hidden. "Because I can think if a lot of options you could exhaust before going here. Like… easily fifty and that's just what I came up with in the last few seconds."

"If you're so opposed to it, why not stop me?"

"Because.. I am curious to see if you succeed."

"Then stand back." Varian pulled a lever, colors of chemicals began to mix, pumping beneath the sheet. Electricity sparked, Caine was forced to turn away as things became overwhelming to look at. Beneath the sheet, his newest creation was spasming, seizing unnaturally. Perhaps what he was doing was wrong… a sin against nature…

But it was too late.

The machines fizzled and sparked, eventually blowing out leaving Varian and Lady Caine alone in the dark lab with the smell of burnt hair and flesh. There was a moment of silence between the two before finally, she spoke.

"You failed… I might be glad…"

"… actually… me to-" he never got to finish the thought. There was the sound of a sheet moving, of fingernails on a metal slab. All at once Varian felt regret hit him like a blow to the face, forcing its way down his mouth into the pit of his stomach.

This was a terrible idea.

He had gone too far.

"Ra… pun… zel…." raspy and hoarse a voice whispered beneath the sheet. The one who had the answers was… dead no longer. Varian felt the color drain from his face, his chest constricted like he couldn't breathe. All at once he wanted his dad back more than ever, comforting him, helping him through this massive mistake.

The sheet moved again. Varian backed up toward the door, Cin was already there. "Mommy's… home…"

...Doctor Frankenstein

#Varian #tangled #tangled bea #drabble #varian drabble #lady caine #tangled before ever after #varian the alchemist

24 notes · View notes

djinmer4 · 6 years

Text

Theft of the Arkenstone (Part 2 of 2)

T.A. 2989

The caravan arrived at the break of dawn about a hundred stong. “Got another elf with ya, Carleton?” joked the guards of Dale.

“Laugh it up, Nielson. It’s easier to travel in the dark with elves. No need to worry about bandits, and it’s easier to keep moving in the cold, than it is when the sun’s out.”

“It’s almost fall!”

“Tell that to the desert.” The caravaneer handed over a list to the guards. “Half of the party are guests this time. About twenty dwarves from the Iron Hills, here on invitation from King Dain for some sort of work to be done. Five families, including a blacksmith and a cooper, seeking to emigrate to Dale. Also one not on the list.” He looked over his shoulder, then waved over one of the men. “This is Gonfin of . . . “

“Most recently of Morwe’s court.” What the guards had taken for a tall Man was actually an Elf, with long black hair braided behind his back, and light, almost shining eyes. The Elf was dressed a bit differently the Silvan who dwelt in Lasgalen and Dale. He wore a ragged grey cloak, clearly suffering from the trials of crossing the desert, covered in sand and dust. Oddly, he bore both a sword and a harp.

“We met up just before we reached the Iron Hills. Poor bugger’s horse had just up and died on him.”

The Elf nodded. “My pack horse was fine, but I was carrying a load of instruments for my work. I was in the middle of deciding what I could discard when Master Carleton agreed to let me travel with his train.”

“Best singer I’ve ever heard,” boasted the Man. “And not half-bad with that blade of his. Saved my life a couple of times when we got ambushed on the trail.”

“Considering I would have been next had I not intervened, that’s hardly charity on my part.” The two continued to joke around while the guards finished checking out the rest of the caravan. Nielson stepped back and gestured to Feren, who was on shift as the Elvish portion. “He check out?” grunted the Dalesman.

“Those have to be some of the finest instruments I’ve ever seen,” declared the Elf. “If he can play them or make them, seems good enough.”

“Never heard of Morwe.”

“Tatyarin High King. Occasionally we see some explorers or scholars from his court, but the last time was from before the Dragon came.” Feren waved the last of the caravan into Dale. “If he’d said Nurwe I’d have been a bit more suspicious, but the Tatyarin are just as knowledge-hungry as their Western cousins.” The Sinda turned back to the Tatya. “Your a bit tall and bright-eyed for a Tatya; got any Noldo blood?”

“A bit,” the Elf shrugged, not at all offended. “Grandfather was a part of the court at Tirion, but he’s been dead since the First Age.”

Feren nodded, then gave a more formal bow of greeting. “The Cat and the Moon, the tavern on the main square is the best for attracting a large audience. Shall we see you perform there?”

A flashing smile, and long-fingered hands rubbed over a topaz and gold cloak pin. “Probably. The court of Morwe only recently heard about the death of Smaug. I’m hoping to trade; songs and stories from the East for those about the death of the Dragon.”

Nielson shook his head. “Only an Elf would call something that happened half a century ago recent. There’s plenty of songs and stories told in the taverns, but if you want to talk to some people who were actually there, you’re going to need to talk with the Dwarves.”

“Thanks, I will.”

“Yea, say what you want about archery. But it was Bard’s arrow that felled Smaug when nothing else would work.” Gloin finished talking then took a drink of ale.

Gonfin had traded knowledge of Eastern instrument making techniques for the right to wander the halls of Erebor and to interview the remaining Dwarves of Thorin’s company (and Dain himself as well). They’d asked about his sword, but alas, that had been a gift, and Gonfin was uncertain on the techniques used in its creation. But having an Elf who was humble enough to ask the Dwarves about anything and be willing to trade for it was a treat, given the haughty Silvan and Sindar that lived in Lasgalen.

“And that was the end of it?” Gonfin was almost continually scribbling notes since the conversation had started.

“No. The Dragon had destroyed Lake-town. The Elves and Men showed up to negotiate reparations. That went on for a while, then the orcs and Dain showed up and the Battle of the Five Armies happened?”

The Elf made a show of counting on his fingers. “Elves, Men, Dwarves and Orcs. Who was the fifth army?”

“Ach, lad, let’s save that till tomorrow, shall we?” Gloin noted the Elf didn’t even flinch at being called a lad, and his opinion of him rose. “Council’s this afternoon, and I’ve got to attend. I’ll drop you off with Bombur now, and you can pester him with questions. He can even give you some lunch. Skinny thing like you needs all the meat he can get.”

The Elf gathered up his notes, humming some weird tune as he did. “Just one last question.” Gloin nodded. “The negotiations, I heard a bit about them from the Men of Dale. Something about a jewel?”

“The Arkenstone, the King’s Jewel. Beautiful, shines like silver in firelight, or like snow under starlight.” Gloin cupped his hands to show the Elf how big it was. “Our burglar got it out to them when it looked like Thorin wasn’t going to keep his word to the Men of Lake-town. They returned it after the Battle.”

“I see.” The Elf finished stuffing his papers into a small satchel, then stood up (and almost immediately had to bow down again to get through the door.) “Lead the way, Lord Gloin.”

“Oh yes, I’ve always felt terrible about what happened to the lads. Kili was barely in his eighties when the Battle happened.” Dori had agreed to take some time to help Gonfin, under the condition that the Elf help him with doing the inventory of his store. They’d also agreed to sell some of the instruments the Elf had brought with him, the smaller ones that were more easily replaced. Dori wasn’t sure anyone in Erebor would actually want Elf-made instruments, but it couldn’t hurt, and the Elf had been humble enough to earn a few friendly gestures.

“Eighty? I’m not too familiar on mortal ages, but surely that’s not an adult for a dwarf.” The Elf was currently hauling some wine out of the cellar to the front, but would stop every so often to make more notes.

“Kili was an adult, but only just. Oh, the poor lads. I always felt that either of them, Fili or Kili would have made a great King. Not that Dain’s bad, but it would have been nice to see the Throne stay within the line.”

“Fili or Kili . . . but not Thorin?” Now Dori looked embarrassed. “Thorin wasn’t a bad King-in-Exile, but when we got here . . . he was showing signs of the gold-sickness, you understand?”

“Yes, some of the others have mentioned it.”

“If Thorin had been in charge . . . I’m not sure we would have as good relationships with the Men of Dale and the Elves of Mirkwood as we do now. He was very prideful, and then he didn’t want to give a single coin to those poor men.” The Dwarf shot a beady eye to the Elf. “You won’t mention I said any of this, alright?”

“I’ll have to say something. A lot of people have brought up the gold-sickness, it would be hard to leave out. But I’ll keep what you said about Thorin being King private, if you’d like.”

“I’d be grateful.”

“Would it be possible to see their graves? I understand all three Durins were buried together.”

“Entombed,” Dori corrected. “And yes. They are-”

“At the bottom of Erebor?”

“Heavens no. That’s where all the mining is being done. They’re close to the heart of the mountain, near the throne room. I’ll ask Dwalin to show you tomorrow.” He looked around and realized they were finished. “You’ve done a good job helping me. The least I can do is offer you some tea.”

“That’ll be great.” Gonfin wiped some sweat off, and tugged his braid loose, only to start rebuilding it. “If we have some time, I’ve heard you that you play the flute. Would you mind playing for me as well?”

“Only if you return the favor. Bombur’s children have been raving about your music ever since you spoke to him.”

“’Ere they are. Mind you don’t damage anything.” The room with the three mausoleums was quite roomy, and Gonfin was amazed he hadn’t had to stoop at all. “This is amazing.” He walked around, looking not only at the tombs, but the rest of the structure as well. “These covers, there’s no joining at all.”

Dwalin nodded. “Each sarcophagus was made from a single block of marble. The lids were chiseled out first, with the effigies, then the rest of the block was hollowed out.”

“Strange, I thought the Arkenstone would be on top.”

“Nah, that’s in the tomb with Thorin. A representation was carved as part of his effigy.” The Elf continued to examine the late King of Erebor. “Pardon my thoughts, but he looks almost Man-like.”

“Yea, Thorin was downright ugly for a Dwarf. Had a heart like the Arkenstone though.” If Dwalin shed a few tears, the Elf pretended not to notice. Instead he stood in front of the graves and raised his voice in song. The words were not ones that any Dwarf knew, but the sentiment was clear.

“That’s an Elvish mourning song.”

“Why, yes, it seemed appropriate. I’m surprised you recognized it though.” Dwalin gestured to Kili’s tomb. “At the funeral, young Kili’s Elf sang something similar. I recognized the emotions if not the words.”

“Indeed,” the Elf changed the subject. “And where can I find young Kili’s Sinda friend. It’s not the first time I’ve heard of her, but she seems nowhere here. Has she gone West?”

“Ach, no, just bad timing on your part. She’s part of the delegation to Dorwinion. Tauriel will be back before the change of the new year.”

“Then I must be sure to remain at least that long.”

“Dwalin! Furi! Nice to see you again!”

“Gonfin!” By now the Elf had become a familiar site in Erebor, much like Tauriel herself. “Surprised to see you. Aren’t you going down the Celduin to Rhun tomorrow?”

“I am indeed. But since I will not be the one guiding the boat, I thought it harmless to indulge a little for one last night.” The Elf brandished a full skin. “I thought I’d take the time to look around as well. Who knows when I’ll be back here?”

“Fair enough.” Dwalin was surprised when the skin was shoved into his hands. “Uh . . . “

“A gift. Besides, I think I’ve had enough. Like you said, I don’t want to miss my boat tomorrow.” With a wink the Elf pranced off, singing a melodious melody, but replacing the words with one of Dale’s raunchiest drinking ballads. The two Dwarves watched him go. “Mad as hatters. All of them.” stated Furi decisively.

“True,” Dwalin took a swig then passed the skin to the other guard. “Excellent taste in wine though.”

Maglor glared at the marble duplicate of Thorin. This was to be his last day here, and he still hadn’t figured out how to get the Silmaril out of the tomb. Between the wine he gave the guards, and the spells he’d been casting over the past months, he was guaranteed to be undisturbed until morning. But the point was to get it out without anyone being the wiser. A broken tomb was a huge sign that something was wrong. “I give up, it will just have to be magic.”

With that, he raised his sword, then smote the cover of the sarcophagus. Inside, the Dwarf had decayed into just hair and mail and bone. The Silmaril, loosely clasped between skeletal fingers, brightened as it was picked up by the son of Feanor. “Maedhros, you’ve given me so much trouble already. Please be quiet.” Immediately the stone dimmed, like a child chastened by it’s parents. Maglor tucked it into his satchel. For a second he hesitated over the sword, but in the end left it. He was here for the Silmaril, not to reclaim Turakano’s lost property. He then used the halberds of the guards to lever the two halves of the cover back into place. He sung the stone back whole; there was a seam, but it was unlikely to be noticed unless someone was examining the cover closely.

He woke the guards on the way out with his singing. It wasn’t the perfect crime, but he doubted anyone would notice his theft for years.

T.A. 2991

“In honor of the fiftieth anniversary of Smaug’s death, the Arkenstone shall be displayed for all to see.” Dain declared. Thranduil openly yawned, but Bain was appropriately solemn for the occasion. With that statement, the King of Erebor gave the signal for the masons to start raising the lid on Thorin’s sarcophagus.

The block of marble was carefully hauled away. Dain bowed the approached the tomb. He reached in, then stopped. “It’s not there.”

For a moment silence reigned. “What?” asked Dain’s son, Thorin Stonehelm.

“The Arkenstone. It’s not there.” Dain pulled back, confusion written all over his face. “Orcrist is there, but the Arkenstone is not.”

Thranduil came over to confirm Dain’s statement. “Who would steal the Arkenstone but leave a sword of Gondolin?”

“This would be so much easier, Maedhros, if you were just a wee bit smaller.” The Arkenstone flickered in sympathy. Maglor sighed, the put down the tools and silver wire. Instead, he raised his hand to his cloak pin. The pin brightened under his touch until it glowed like sunlight.

“I think I’ll leave you with Elrond for a while.”

#maglor #silmarils #the arkenstone #arkenstone as silmaril #what actually happened

16 notes · View notes

blankdblank · 7 years

Text

X-Men Crossover - Pt 3 - Bonding with the Dwarves

Pt 3 - Bonding with the Dwarves …

You stayed there for nearly a year until he had yet another visitor, then later the next day 13 more.

Each of them taking pause at the tall, hunched over frame of Logan, as he glared in the corner of the room, ensuring no one came close to you, especially Gandalf, and that the Dwarves behaved during their stay. Each of them darting their eyes between you, trying to work out your relationship.

Bilbo agreed to join on the condition that you two would join him, at the sight of you Gandalf knew at once you had been sent here to help, spotting your strength from the other end of the room.

Later that night, you three found yourself in the Kitchen together, Gandalf eyeing Logan suspiciously as he stared at him. Gandalf gave a small smile, “I am Gandalf the Grey. Pleasure to meet you.” Resting his hand across his chest and bowing his head slightly. Logan drew in a slow breath and replied, “Logan Howlett, My sister, Jaqi.” Letting out a small grumble. Gandalf, “I’m sorry have I don't something to offend you?” Logan, “You look like someone from our world.” Gandalf, “I take it you didn't get along?” Logan, “He tried to kill me and my sister, countless times.” Gandalf’s mouth dropped open a bit, “I assure you I mean you and your sister no harm.” Eying your both carefully, “Why exactly does Bilbo refuse to leave without you?” You, “We told him we would protect him, should he go on a Journey.” Gandalf’s eyebrows rose slightly as he pursed his lips, letting out a quiet, “Hmm.” Eyeing you cautiously, “I’ll let you both get your rest then.”

…

The Dwarves all started sharing stories with their kin of their travels since they had last seen each other. Fill and Kill eyed you suspiciously with a smirk as Fili asked you, “So you live here with Mr Boggins?” You gave a small smile as Logan handed you a mug of tea and sat on the ground next to your chair, resting his arm on the arm of the chair as he took a sip from his mug, “Yes, we got here nearly a year ago.” Kili, “So, no little ones then?” Shooting you a smile as his Uncle nudged him with his elbow. You giggled, “No it’s alright, neither I or my brother have children.” Thorin’s eyes opened wider in shock, “Brother?” Logan smiled as he replied, “I was adopted.” All of them nodding their heads at the answer to the question running through their minds since they arrived. Dwalin, “So what weapon do you prefer, oh sorry I didn't catch your name lass.” You, “Mostly swords and bow, my fists when needed. Though I have trained with axes and explosives before. My name is Jaqiearae, but you can call me Jaqi.” Dwalin gave a slight nod, “Impressive, I see Mr Baggins’ reasons now for hiring you.” He looked to Logan and asked, “You?” Logan, “Names Logan, mostly my fists, but my skills are similar to Jaqi’s, I’ve used everything through the years.” Through the night the Dwarves started to sing and play music for a short time until they decided it was time to turn in, giving you time to help Bilbo pack.

…

All of you left in the morning for Bree, each of the Dwarves choosing their own ponies as you picked one for Bilbo, Gandalf picked his as Logan chose both of you two fully grown horses, old for ploughing but built well for hard labor and still able to travel at great speeds. Even though you were the same height as Thorin your legs were longer and thinner than theirs, making a pony too small for you to ride. Gently stroking your horses face as it greeted you, pressing its face against yours as Logan did the same with his, as the Dwarves climbed into their saddles. You both quickly mounted your horses as Gandalf led the way to Erebor.

Through the first few days the Dwarves awkwardly shuffled around you and Logan, taking to Bilbo better than you two, even though they still kept him at a distance. You managed to shield your Metal form at night, something you had learned to control fully, but your skin still glowed slightly in moonlight, making you cover your arms and head as you slept with your blanket.

On the fourth day Bombur was commenting that his stew would be better if he had some corn to add to it, triggering you to dig through your bag and pulled out two cans, offering one to Logan who, to the Dwarves and Gandalf’s shock, drew out one of his claws and cut open the top and offering it to Bombur with his claw free hand. Who accepted it with a shaky hand, nodding his head and smiling quickly as he dumped it in the stew as Logan did the same with the second before retracting his claw, making Kili and Fill gasp and lean in closer unintentionally. Logan handed the second can as he took the empty one and handed it to you. The group looking on as you drained the last few drops and shifted it into a small metal ball and dropped it into your bag, repeating it with the second. Kili and Fili quietly shifted closer to Logan, which he spotted, slowly drawing out his claws on one hand, making them jump slightly, his fingers loosely draped as he held his hand out for them to inspect. They both moved in closer, eying it and flipping it over and running their fingers along the blades sides. Fill whispered, “This is Mithril. How did you get these?” Logan, “I was born with bone claws, I was, recruited, into a project that covered my bones with Ademantium, or Mithril as you call it.” Kili, “Is it just the one hand?” Logan drew out his other hand’s claws for them, “Nope.” Ori looked over at you, “Can you do that as well?” Logan smiled as he replied for you, “Oh she's far more talented then I am, got a list of skills longer than my arms.” The group all looked at you as you shifted to metal, their mouths dropped open as the two Princes said, “You’re Mithril!” As they walked over to you and walked around you in a small circle, gently tapping you in various places. You stood as the group walked over, each of then inspecting you thoroughly. Thorin, “What else can you do?” You smiled and shoved your hand through his chest, making him and the group all jump away from you as you fought your smile and chuckle. Thorin ran his fingers over his chest as Dwalin did the same across his back as you shifted back. Reaching out your hand with a small smile as Thorin looked at you cautiously before stepping closer and reaching out for your hand, gasping as his hand went through yours, trying to grab your hand a few more times before looking up to you in shock as you walked closer to him and grabbed his hand, glancing at his nephew Fili, telling him, “Touch him.” Darting your eyes back to Thorin then back to Fill. He slowly walked over to his Uncle holding out his hand and dropping his mouth as he waved his hand through his Uncles’ chest. Thorin reached up to touch his own chest then looking back at you, “I’m solid, why can’t he touch me?” You released his hand and Fili’s hand collided with his chest, making the group reach out to confirm that their King was still intact. Thorin, “Any more skills?” You smiled and showed them your healing skills as Logan did the same, drawing more impressed looks from the group before turning back to Bombur’s stew, each happily accepting their meals and forming a closer bond with the two of you. After finishing the stew and cleaning the dishes you glanced over at Thorin who looked at you in return curiously. Thorin, “Your not going to shove your arm through my chest again are you?” You giggled, “Nope. Just curious. Whose going to go after Smaug?” Thorin, “Um…” Balin, “The plan is to get the jewel without waking him and sending word to the Iron Hills and the other Dwarf armies.” You nodded your head, as Logan nudged your arm, “Shouldn’t be that hard for you then. You’ve faced Dragons before.” The group looking at you in shock. Thorin, “You’ve killed Dragons?” You smiled again, “Only the ones that killed people. A very long time ago.” Gandalf, “I believe I’m seeing your role in our Journey then. No wonder Eru sent you both here.” Then Ori started the conversation again, “So is everyone like you where you come from?” Leading you to the long conversation on Mutants and listing the powers of your former students.

…

Later on in the week the Princes asked you about your world. Logan, “Her view of it was much different than mine. She's a lot older than I am.” Ori pulled out his notebook to take notes, sharpening his pencil quickly, “How much older, exactly?” You smiled as Logan answered again, “Around 2000 years, give or take.” You, “Closer to 3000, Caesar threw everything off by adding 3 new months to the year.” Thorin looked you over carefully, then over Logan who was smirking, “How old are you?” Logan, “165.” Ori, “How old are your parents then?” Logan, “Mine died when I was 10. Hers…” You, “I never met my birth parents, I was found as a baby in the woods abandoned. My Father found me and took me home. He died when I was 19, my Mother followed shortly after.” Thorin, “19? You were still a child!” You smiled, “Back then people barely lived to 60. We are considered fully grown at 18. Women are able to marry as soon as their bodies are ready, sometimes as early as 13.” All, “13!” Ori, “So you both really aren't related?” Logan, “She took me in after my parents died.” Ori, “So you aren't married?” Logan, “Twice.” You, “No.” Drawing the Dwarves attention again Thorin, “So all that time, and no one caught your eye?” He spotted a strange look flash across your face then disappear, as you spoke, “My father was King Anaxandridas II.” Thorin’s jaw dropped, “You’re a Princess?” You, “An Illegitimate one. But more importantly, I was the only person with powers like mine. Which meant I was kept at a distance as my powers fully developed. They thought I was sent to them by one of their Gods.” Ori, “Which one? What God with which powers I mean?” You, “Hephaestus. He’s our world’s version of Mahal.” Making their mouths drop open and stare intently at you as they regained themselves. “He’s the smith of the Gods. The God of blacksmiths, metalworking, carpenters, craftsmen, artisans, sculptors, metallurgy, fire, and volcanoes. Which with my Metal form, which appeared even when I was a baby as I slept, made sense to them. Otherwise, if I was just another person who had powers, my life was in danger.” Thorin, “So you took the throne after him?” You, “No, his oldest, followed, then his third son followed after. I watched five more follow onto the throne after.” Thorin, “So they skipped you? Why?” You, “Only blood relations can follow onto the throne. Unless I planned to kill every last blood relative of his and claim it for myself, which in sort of what my brother was expecting. But it wasn't my place. So I watched, for 165 years until I couldn't bury another one of the bloodline that claimed me.” Each of them noticing the look in your eyes of a deep burning pain, empathizing with you, as they have watched their own family trees dwindle. Thorin, “How many Kings did you watch them crown?” You, “7 from my fathers line, I lost count on the other line. Sparta had two Kings. One was mainly over the Army, my Father’s was counted as the stronger line and counted first.” Thorin glanced over to Ori and said, “Make sure her lineage is noted when we return. Everyone is to know, and add his to the list as well, he is her brother.” Logan, “You don't have to add me to her line.” Thorin, “Yes we do. You are her family and it will be recorded as such.”

Pt 4

#XMenCrossover #Powers #Family #42 #Thranduil x Reader #lotr #hobbit #Thranduil x Reader OC

21 notes · View notes

preservationandruin · 7 years

Text

Words of Radiance Part 2

Viewpoints here are a weirder spread--Shallan, Kaladin, Adolin, and Sadeas. Not sure how long this will take me to get through or how many sub-parts the liveblog is gonna be, so bear with me!

Shallan takes control, Kaladin tries to work with what he has and meets a worldhopper, Renarin jumps off a roof, and people talk way too much about Amaram for either my or Kaladin’s liking.

Epigraphs here are snippets of the Listener songs, which is probably why we had to get the Eshonai chapters first--so we could tell what they were talking about. In any case, Shallan is travelling with Tvklav’s crew--who I’m pretty sure are coincidentally the slavers who sold Kaladin. Because sometimes I feel like Sanderson’s world operates on the Dickensian premise of “everyone knows each other by coincidence.” Shallan is curious about the Frostlands’ natural vegetation. She also tries having conversation, but it doesn’t really work, in party because (rightly, given the situation) people don’t trust her.

We also learn that Jasnah kept, in her personal trunk, a drawing that Shallan had done of her. Shallan ends up mourning both Jasnah and the fact that all of her sketchpads--something she dismisses, but essentially her life’s work--are gone as well.

More sketches--this time of various fighting stances. Nazh has written that he had to steal the scroll these were on and that the bottom half was eaten by an axehound. Nazh leads an interesting and fraught life.

Cut to Adolin talking to his blade, something I still think might be significant. At the very least, I hope that spren can hear him and takes some comfort from having a human talk to them and trust them? We also get the story that nobody took Adolin seriously and that the guy he won the Blade from wanted to duel Adolin to embarrass Dalinar. Didn’t quite work that way. The Plate Adolin got from his mom’s side. Also, Adolin refusing to name his Blade is also important. Also, this: “I appreciate what you’ve done for me. I know you’d do it for anyone who held you, but I still appreciate it. I...I want you to know: I believe in Father. I believe he’s right...”

Okay, I know I’ve gone on about Edgedancer Adolin before, but one of the things for the Edgedancers definitely seems to be paying attention to the people and things people take for granted. Like, say, the fact that your shardblade fights with you.

Anyway, immediately after that we get the fact that Adolin can’t fucking read, not even glyphs. Navani voice: please get married so that I stop worrying about you not being able to fucking read. Also, Adolin is worried because they haven’t heard anything from Jasnah’s ship--WITH GOOD REASON. Also, Adolin insists that breaking up with Danlan wasn’t his fault--apparently she’d been saying something to her friends--but given that it’s Adolin it’s kind of hard to tell.

Also, Renarin and Adolin run through Adolin’s list of good-luck charms for duels---talk to the sword, eat chicken before you duel, wear mother’s chain--and Navani is skeptical and the boys are Highly Indignant that Navani is skeptical. Also also, Adolin likes pissing off the guards because he doesn’t like Kaladin--thinks something is “off” about Kaladin. As always, he’s not wrong. But he is being petty.

And then Adolin just crushes the other dude because he’s Adolin Kholin. He beats him so badly that the judge tries to stop them, but Adolin points out he didn’t break any rules. On the other hand, this probably didn’t endear Adolin to people--meaning that they were more likely to let slide that fucking 4-on-1 that Sadeas attempts later. Renarin thinks it was awesome, and Adolin gives him the blade. Which, uh, I mean, from Adolin’s point of view it was the best thing to do, but reading this again a) Renarin is notably hesitant to take the blade (Glys talking to him?) and also grimaces when he takes it and holds it (it’s screaming). But, unlike Dalinar or Kaladin later, he keeps holding it.

Also, Adolin’s brutality here wasn’t planned, it was just something that happened and that he’s confused about later, feeling drained. He did get the Thrill. I’m not sure what’s going on there, but it might not be good.

Back to Shallan, where she’s using Pattern to spy on the slavers to try to figure out how to deal with them. She also notes that these people don’t treat her like a real person, but instead as a means to an end, much like Kabsal, and she loses a bit of her temper and also mildly terrifies Tvklav. She realizes that Tvklav and the others don’t know she’s a timid rural lighteyes, and she also realizes that she can make them see her in certain ways, not just by copying Jasnah.

Honestly, this entire trip to the Shattered Plains does a lot more for Shallan’s lightweaving than studying with Jasnah, I think. Nothing like being thrown into a fire to teach you to deal with it? Anyway, the deserters show up, and we cut over to Kaladin. The lighteyes sparring grounds is somewhat disappointing to the bridgemen, who expected something cooler.

Also, Kaladin is plotting to kill Amaram already, which is THE MOST RELATEABLE but also not good for his oaths i guess. Anyway, Kaladin and the gang with him are supposed to be protecting the Kholin bros while they’re training, they get some backsass from Ardents, Kaladin backsasses back, and it works out. Kaladin is also left standing with Moash, which...okay, knowing where Moash’s character arc goes, I’m just going to be side-eyeing him the whole book, I apologize. We get a note that the numbers are still appearing--honestly Dalinar tell Kaladin it’s probably someone in there already so he stops panicking over intruders--and Kaladin starts getting irritated about Dalinar and Amaram again and Syl makes him admit that he does know that Dalinar, at least, is honorable. Amaram just has him fooled.

Also, Kaladin is backsassing Adolin, and uses “Brightlord” for him--the title used for people he doesn’t respect as much. Adolin says that the only reason he hasn’t thrown Kaladin through a window is because he owes Kaladin his life. Renarin is just standing there, being awkward, holding his Blade--he had to hold that thing for five days. Yikes.

Anyway, Syl doesn’t like the brothers, but only because they carry Shards (I hope. They’re good boys Brent). And we run into Vasher--I mean, Zahel, but it’s Vasher. Also, Adolin waited to bring Renarin until he knew Zahel was there so he could pressure Zahel into taking Renarin under his wing, and Syl drops the fact that she’s a tiny piece of a god, although it’s unclear how seriously Kaladin takes that. Back to Shallan, who is covering anxiety about the deserters with scholarship. She also sketches Bluth here--first a more true to life version, and then an idealized one with him in a proper uniform with a good weapon. Pattern asks about why people shit and Shallan does not want to be having that conversation. Pattern also says that Shallan--and presumably this is a Lightweaver thing--lives lies to make herself strong, but must speak truths to progress.

Back to Kaladin, who’s talking with Lopen. Also, Kaladin uses the word “greenvines” to mean new recruits. And there’s another highstorm coming--meaning Kaladin is paranoid about the numbers again. Also they watch Adolin training, and we get this absolutely amazing exchange:

“I’ve seen him summon that weapon before.” “Yeah, gancho, on the battlefield, when we saved his sorry ass from Sadeas.” I LOVE LOPEN. Also, Renarin’s training is beginning--he hasn’t been trained to fight, so there aren’t any bad habits for him to unlearn. And also this is the part where Zahel just tells Renarin to jump off the roof a bunch of times and also uses idioms that make absolutely no sense translated literally in Rosharan. Example: “I’m old, son. Repeating myself makes me eat the wrong flower.” I’m sorry Zahel that literally just sounds like a shitpost.

And then Kaladin and Zahel have a conversation while, in the background, Renarin is throwing himself off a building again and again. Fun digression story, this part reminds me of a story from my mom’s family? She had 8 brothers and little to no parental supervision so some hijinks went down including the boys, at one point, deciding to play “who can jump off the highest object” which ended in the youngest jumping off the shed and breaking his leg. Don’t do these things unless you’re in Shardplate, kids. Kaladin discredits how well Renarin will do, but Zahel’s got a better idea of it.

And also Zahel starts berating Kaladin for some of his nonchalance--like assuming he knows how to fight Shardbearers just because he got lucky against two. It’s turning into Sparring Bantertime. And then Adolin makes the mistake of further antagonizing Kaladin, they get in a fight, and Zahel calls Adolin the fuck out for challenging someone without shardplate when Adolin is in Shardplate because what the actual fuck, you could kill people. Zahel also says that Kaladin reminds him of Adolin, to which Kaladin Is Very Offended, and Zahel starts laughing at him. Kaladin also notes that the stormlight drained from him, and Syl points out that he wasn’t protecting anyone.

Shallan flashback time--we get the fact that when Shallan thinks about her mother her brain shuts down. She also hasn’t spoken for five months, apparently--since her mother was killed. Helaran gives Shallan a drawing pad and charcoals and says that he needs her to come back because he’s going to be gone for a few years, and he’s worried about the others. And of course what Shallan automatically draws is the murder scene, which worries Helaran as well and he tells her to draw safe things instead of dwelling on the past. Shallan spoke for the first time in months to stop Helaran from killing their father. And Shallan sees her father in a furious rage, but he stops himself before he hurts her. I still wonder--did he just care about her more, or was he scared of her abilities and didn’t want to provoke them? Well, there’s not much way to know now.

Shallan, again. The listener song quoted here does mention artform as a thing that exists. Anyway, we’ve just run into Shallan taking control of her caravan and leading them down to help another group against the bandits, because we’ve hit another moment where Shallan’s back’s against the wall and she becomes certain--and flat-up offers the deserters redemption if they help her help the other people. The leader doesn’t listen, but the others--including Gaz, everyone runs into everyone else out on the Shattered Plains, huh--do. Another new Listener form is mentioned--meditationform, meant for teaching and consolation, used by the gods for lies and desolation.

Also, we meet Tyn here. Also, the leader of the deserters--Vathah--attempts to threaten Shallan, and Pattern spooks the living shit out of him by saying “you should let her go” while Shallan pretends to hear nothing. Also, Shallan frees Tvklav’s slaves, including using the line “I saved your life, you oily little man.” And Shallan also sees that the caravan survivors burned a prayer of thanks for the deserters who saved their lives, which is great.

Back to Kaladin. Also, the listener song mentions stormform here, including the phrases “beware its powers” and “beware its end.” And it also says it “brings the gods their night.” So we’re getting heavy hints that stormform is really bad news. Also, Kaladin sees a red light out in the highstorm and thinks it looks like eyes. Creepy. Adolin is looking at fashions, Renarin is stimming, Elhokar is fretting. Kaladin is trying to unobtrusively be nosy.

Also, Renarin geeks out about fabrials to Kaladin, and Kaladin wonders why Adolin is looking at fashion and Adolin gets defensive. No numbers appear--probably because Renarin is in a room with other people the whole time. Adolin mentions that the only Shardbearer in Sadeas’ camp other than Sadeas is Amaram, Dalinar jokingly comments that Adolin won’t be dueling him, certainly, while I am in the background yelling “KICK HIS ASS, ADOLIN! KICK HIS MISERABLE ASS!”

Anyway now they’re talking more about Amaram. Can we stop talking about Amaram. You’re not going to get him to secede from Sadeas’s side. He’s a piece of shit. Kaladin also notices that when people mention Amaram, he gets upset and tense, UNDERSTANDABLY.

And so Kaladin goes to tell Dalinar about Amaram, and Dalinar points out that Kaladin doesn’t have any proof. Syl is optimistic, saying that Dalinar listened--and she’s actually right in the end, Syl is always right, she’s the best--but Kaladin says that he didn’t. Syl is also very upset at the thought of Kaladin “finding his own justice,” as he puts it, and points out that this is not what he’s supposed to be like as a Windrunner.

Also, Shen confronts Kaladin--which is an early sign that Shen is not a normal Parshman--and says that he isn’t really treated as Bridge Four, and that he’s basically still a slave, and Kaladin can’t argue with that and hates it. And then one of the palace guards runs in, panicking, and I’m pretty sure this is the Szeth attack.

Listener song talking about “Nightform” which apparently predicts the future--there is the whole “Voidbringers see the future” thing. In any case, the “attack” was someone sabotaging the railing and balcony where Elhokar stands. Kaladin points out that whoever tried it was an idiot--or, more precisely, a coward, if they’re the same person who was behind the drained stormlight in the Plate. They want to make Elhokar’s death look like an accident, but they tipped their hand here--because the only tool that could have cut away at the balcony like that was a Shardblade. Kaladin also swears, here, that Dalinar can trust him--one half of the conflicting oaths that tear him apart in this book. Dalinar also assumes that bridgemen have no part in warcamp politics, which is...a bit naive. Kaladin does, as does Moash--lighteyes can engender deep antagonism in darkeyes without realizing.

I’ll cut this here and get the rest of Part Two in another post.

#stormlight archive liveblog #roshar #adolin kholin can't fucking read #edgedancer adolin musing #renarin kholin foreshadowing #i loathe meridas amaram #FUCK YEAH BRIDGE FOUR

5 notes · View notes

inexchangeforyoursoul · 7 years

Text

double chapters for the self-indulgent Law thing, 4+5, each exceeding 2k words a bit

it’s on AO3 already btw (as well as ffn) (apart from the latter chapter which will be tumblr-exclusive till mornig aka for about 10 hours, but honestly, don’t fuck your eyes over with my theme otherwise)

It takes about ten minutes of convincing, but she finally gets him to take off the ridiculous looking piece of clothing. On his way out, he shoves a long sword into her hands.

“Woah...! What's this for?” is her surprised reaction. She's also vaguely excited, because... swords.

“Kikoku. I don't leave base without it.” He states as a matter of fact.

“... alright. I'll just assume you have no problem handling it at the moment.“ she mumbles, throwing it... no, not around her neck, the weapon doesn't fit the corridor, unless she crab walks her way back outside... over her shoulder it is.

He stops up at the entrance for one too many seconds. She decides not to push her luck and just wait it out. It takes long enough for some crew members nearby noticing the holdup, though. Uni and... Clione, was his name? She waves at them. They mimic the gesture and disappear behind the corner, but not before giving a thumbs-up... She sighs. There's a wee little feeling they may not have been informed as of yet. Either that, or they are ignoring the situation altogether. Oh bother.

“... this still feels really weird.” he groans eventually, hand hovering over the doorhandle.

She tries to come up with something to calm-slash-convince him: “No person whatsoever will even recognize you outside, okay...? Worst case scenario, we run into an acquaintance of mine and say hello. And, well... count your blessings? I have short ones, too. Albeit I'd never wear those without leggings, so... fair enough.” With a groan, she acknowledges that this incoherent rambling is not getting them anywhere. “Anyway, look...” she says, stepping closer. “the sooner we're over this, the faster it ends, okay? Think of the pants, Law. The pants... they are only five minutes away from you.”

All he can muster is a sigh. The last section is more ridiculous and worse than anything else before it... but somehow, also better. “You are not one for pep talk.”

“... can't argue with that.” Kat admits. “I'm generally bad with words... and make things worse.” What else could she do in this situation, though? Shove him outside herself? Actually, no... that's rude. “Alright, I'll ignore the realization that this body is probably strong enough to just drag you anywhere I want to and offer plan C instead: we talk about the stuff you want to say anyway while we are out walking. Should be distraction enough, no?”

He turns around halfway- what she first said was slightly unnerving while absolutely true. The second part, though, is as good of an idea as it can get. “See, that's more of a plan.”

“Oh, nice,” she says, almost puzzled that it worked. Uncertainty returns a second later, however. “Is it enough to get going, though?”

He turns back to the door and puts a hand on the handle. For a moment, he muses over how lucky he is that noone came through during all of this. Before opening it, he takes another quick look back, to which Kat reacts with a vaguely encouraging thumbs-up. If only he could be as nonchalant about this whole thing as her... oh well.

Having gotten outside and off the vessel, they start walking into town and Law adjusts his hat which has trouble staying put. She can't help but smile: “By the way, that looks incredibly silly on me.”

“... so?” he retorts, not even hiding that he's offended.

She puts her hands up in surprise. “Hey, hey, sorry... I see it's a sentimental value thing, never mind.”

“It's not...” The answer comes a little too fast, he finds. Anyway, “I'm just used to having it where it belongs. Like my nodachi.”

“I know, I also can't stay calm if I don't have my pens at hand at all times... I'll take good care of the baby, don't worry,” she says patting her bag and the blade with a smile, totally ignoring the look being given. She's got a prickly, sweet pear here by the looks of things. That's a pleasant surprise, great relief, and overall good news. “Well then... how will we kick this private introductory seminar on devil fruits off, Professor Trafalgar?” She asks turning back to him.

Even though it's intended as a joke, the tone and... whole sentence sound unexpectedly specific. It's when the last two words sink in when Law stumbles on the cobblestones, though. “Wha'?”

“... careful.” she blinks at him. “And I asked about your improvised syllabus.”

Wait a sec here. “... I know it's none of my business and has little to do with the question, but... am I right to assume that you've had tertiary education?” He asks with an incredulous voice entering halfway through. Her vocabulary made him guess that she was from a well-off family, but that's not necessarily the case all of a sudden. For a small, but specific reason, he just never even considered it.

“I prefer to call it “the 1.5 years of my life I'd rather delete from memory without a trace,” but yes, I was at college,” comes the straight answer with a nod. She stares direction crossroads.

It just doesn't want to add up to him. Unless she's some genius, graduation does not come earlier than the age of 17; this was followed by up to two more years related to school, and now she's an established member of a town she's admittedly not from... it doesn't seem to make sense, because... “Sorry, but... you look like someone who just graduated.”

“Heheh, mom's genes,” she flashes a faint smile. “I'm 24... she also looked younger than her age until she hit about 40, even though she was always stressed from whatever she focused on. Time will eventually catch up with me. Also, no offense taken.”

Law takes a note of the fact that she hasn't looked anywhere else but the road ahead since the topic surfaced. Usually she would turn in the general direction of the person she's talking to, occasionally glimpsing into their eye, but this was just way too passive. He knows he hit some sensitive issues and decides to better leave it be. Either way, here he was thinking she's not older than 20... well, at least he's hopefully got a more mature student at hand than anticipated.

They take a right at a post with some signs on it, the one facing them and pointing towards said direction saying “Sheoo”. It's the main street- save for some horses, a mother and her two children, an elderly couple sitting under a tree, and another group of kids on bikes playing in the distance, there's noone outside.

“That's a Sunday morning for you... on a holiday, nonetheless.” She flips the sword around her neck as first intended and takes a smug look back at him. “And you threw a fit.”

He grunts and shrugs. Local holidays are one thing, and one doesn't really keep up with the days of the week on sea, either... unless they are a religious bunch, he supposes. At the same time he knew yesterday was a Saturday, so he has no right to complain. The people being inside is one blessing he's willing to count, though.

“Alright, let's just start and go over the basics,” he says donning the temporal professor position as they walk down the road, and goes through a list of abilities he gained in the period he's had his fruit. He's into it enough that she has to grab his collar by the time they pass the right corner.

“Turning... anyway, since I've already interrupted you, here's what I've gathered... if I get things working I can theoretically A: levitate things around me and have them switch places; B: cut stuff into pieces without causing any harm to the target; and C: zap the shit out of anything. All of these within a certain area I would need to define myself. Oh, and the target can be something abstract, as you've already illustrated. Is that it?”

“You didn't have to point the last thing out, but yes, that's it.” he replies after going through her abbreviated list. She picked up everything that was important, good- however... “Refer from doing that, would you.” he adds, swatting her hand from the dress. The only ones who can give him unwanted attention are his crew. And, uh, Luffy, because he can't really get rid of him anyway. And Carrot, who is as touchy as Bepo... and maybe Chopper. Maybe. Goddamn fluffy critters and their soft, warm fur.

“... depends on the reach, but it sure sounds broken as hell to me, not gonna lie.” Especially if she compares things to the basic ability of 'can stretch really far'. Then again, this here also can be summed up as 'electricity aided transport' which is basically trams that are faster and better than those in the capitol Wenna two islands over, so whatever. She slows down and digs into her tote bag, listening for the key jingles.

“It's a big favorite for a reason, especially with the big shots.”

She raises an eyebrow and turns towards him at their stop, still fiddling inside the bag. “Okay, provided you are not shitting me... no, actually, while it's very useful, it really is not that interesting of a power. I'd love it for taking out the trash and securing a big, hot plate of soup with no risk of it splashing it about, but... what good would this do to a fat cat? They already have servants, if not straight-out slaves doing these things for their useless asses...” She grabs hold of a bunch of cold, clinking fishes in the sometimes seemingly bottomless sea on her side. “Honestly, I'm at a loss. Why the fuck would it be popular with anyone else but people interested in the body and healing?”

The way her logic splashes around towards the rant's conclusion amuses him quite a bit. Dare he...? Why not. “It's because there's this other thing you can do with it called 'Perpetual Youth Surgery'.”

“Sounds fancy enough... perpetual youth...” She's going through her one too many keys. A lot of them are antiques or haven't been used in years by the looks of it. “So basically whoever gets it stays young... forever. As in, forever forever?” she asks, looking back up, squinting in disbelief.

“Yeah.” The immediate exasperation on her face is amazing. She stops fidgeting with the keys, holding one that's likely the one she was looking for and turns to him.

“Let me get this straight... some idiots want to become immortal... and... and you sure as hell get these assholes chasing after you just because of this, too... right?”

He nods. Now, for the last stroke... “Doing it just once would also kill me, for the record.”

Her poker face cracks barely, and her control over her breath is also good... but from under the hat he can see the brows furrow just a bit more than usual, and hear the keys creak under her fingers, likely scraping off years worth of filth each other, revealing their true colors; most importantly, however, her eyes reflect the full scope of sheer indignation she feels after running through it all in her head again... she cannot find the words. After a minute she remembers he's also there, and lifts a finger asking for another moment to calm down. Then ready, set, go...

“I may not be the popular vote, but I'd rather receive a bullet to the head right now than become immortal. What kind of troglodyte thinks watching friends and family die all the time is a fun activity... then becoming too old to get new technology, too?” A short break with a quick, deep breath. “Some think it's hot stuff, but immortality is the most useless superpower ever.” The emphasizing hand swing at the end makes Law think she's going to throw the key cluster against the wall. Having let some of the steam out, she sniffs and adds a thought that squeezed itself among the others at the highest of her rage, one she cannot ignore: “Unless it's some self-entitled sick fuck with too much free time. Those only care about themselves anyway...” She inhales once more, to let out the rest of the stress. “Let's get inside... I think I'll pop that cider at last.” With that, she turns around to open the little gate leading up tho the narrow, two story row home she lives in.

He just nods. The conversation gave him a certain peace of mind- his body is in good, albeit untrained hands. She has no idea, nor will have any, because it won't show- but she just scored up to three cookie points in his book.

“Here you go, this... is my pants pile.” she states after raiding three different shelves across the board, dumping the big heap of fabric onto the bed. They finally reached the goal, that is the first floor bedroom overlooking the street. Walking out, she points at a cabinet next to the window. “The shirts and such are there, under the books- you can handle that yourself.”

“Okay,” he grumbles; he has all the info he needs. Although there's the temptation to ask where she's going, but judging by the noises she's just down in the kitchen and not planning on leaving the house, so he leaves it be and turns towards the task at hand.

A good chunk of what's not sweatpants seem to be denim; this is as good as a jackpot right now. He decides to look into the wardrobe first, though. There are no big surprises in there.... that extra thick pile to the far right, though... could it be...? He takes the red one out on top... Why, yes, those are all, indeed, hoodies. With neutral, if not rude content at the front. Nice.

He takes out half of the pile and sets it aside, then moves onto the T-shirts and sweaters; she's not very picky. There's virtually everything in there, ranging from pastel through smart-casual to straight-up goth, or some combination of these. Some simpler ones have seen a lot of wear, others are, as far as he can tell, brand new. Once he finds himself in a staring contest with Brook on a tee, he decides it's time to stop. Something about it seems off, though... the material is near new, but the paint is already missing from a spot or two... it's not like any Soul King merch he's seen either. A knockoff, maybe? At the same time, that really is some good fabric, so it doesn't quite add up. There were a few similar ones, too, now that he thinks about it...

He's turning around to put the rest of the pile back, when he notices some tubes and cans behind the corner of the cabinet. On the thick windowsill overlooking the street there's other stuff than just some pillows as he first guessed- he can also see what looks like blank paper, pencils, and... a few pieces of canvas propped to the side, maybe? He's more interested in the colorful bottles, though. He picks up the nearest one- blue fabric paint. Mystery solved, he guesses.

He takes one last look at the skull, then puts the pile of clothes inside. She did seem an artsy one, that one he won't dispute- never would have guessed the forms it manifested in, though. Looking around, there's also some small paintings dotting the wall- nondescript people standing in various places. Possibly sketched from imagination, as there's not much detail in most of them. The signature on the closest one says... well, Kat. Weird of her to not use her initials instead, but whatever. All in all, not his thing, but it's pretty decent stuff.

“You done sorting yet?” he can hear from the door, followed by a clink.

He turns around- she has a bowl in her right hand and is eating what appears to be cereal. Thinking about it, he only ever saw her shoving down snacks. And that medium pizza that she spirited away between him looking that direction twice. That one still haunts him. “Please tell me you eat actual food sometimes... also, no, I've yet to go through the pants. By the way, didn't you say something about a cider earlier...?” He asks with suspicion. She better not have drunk that before going for the cereal bowl.

Kat shrugs. And swallows. “First of all, we come here mainly for that stuff and I see you never even touched it? Dude... Second: I eat all the garbage I want to... also, I changed my mind when I saw the box.” Next spoon. “I'll have to drink that soon enough, though, bottle's near-expired. Didn't want to refuse it from my boss, you know? But booze is nasty, no matter the flavoring. Especially when there's no salty treats to eat it with.” She states, putting another spoonful into her mouth, then comes to an abrupt halt upon swallowing and her eyes go wide. “Oh, right... You have something against, what'sitcalled... gluten, right? If it's an allergy you better help me right now because I stuffed down half a package of whole grain cookies a minute ago.”

The amusement over her mild panic is suppressed by the notion itself, taking him by surprise. “No, I don't... where did you even get the idea?”

“Well, for starters,” she eats another dose, since apparently everything's alright, “I've seen you guys eat three times thus far, and you specifically? I have never seen you touch a sandwich... or those nice buttered baguette slices, although they were godlike. Meanwhile you snack on virtually everything else in front of you. So I just figured you might be intolerant.” She explains in confidence, ending with another shrug and a smaller spoon of cereal. The rest will be harder to get to... time to tilt.

This description makes Law oddly... nervous. He decides against voicing that, though. “I see... well... I just don't like bread. That's all there is to it.”

She stops chewing. “Zat's... a weed shois do have an avesshon do, not honna 'ie.”

It's his turn to shrug. “I ate nothing else for weeks straight at one time and got fed up. Most people have that, usually with an old favorite, no? I just cannot get it down my throat ever since.”

“Ah, yes... I'm like that with raisins.” she says. “Once I ate almost two whole packages... but by the end the little plant parts and stray seeds disgusted me. I couldn't eat them afterwards, picking them out of every cake and whatever else- lately I'm okay with the big, golden ones, though.” Nom. “Things I have no reason to dislike are green beans and licorice, though. One for the hairy texture, other for the taste. Oh, and I also won't eat peppers unless they are raw. They taste really weird when cooked. Or roasted... or anything.”

By the time she gets to the end of her self-indulgent monologue, he's already digging into the glorious pants pile. She takes a look at what he's picked so far, and... is mildly confused.

“Umm... you really wanna pack stuff for the next two months, or...?”

“...” Looking again, he has to admit that it really is a lot of clothes. Act natural... “Well, we cannot possibly know how long this whole ordeal will take, can we?”

“... fair enough. We can just come back, though. And wash.”

Okay, he's been had. “... touché. If you want to, just put the ones you definitely don't want to lose back to the others.”

She hums. As he resumes sorting through stuff, she remembers a certain piece from right over there, though. Shoving some clutter to the side, she makes some space for the rest of her cereal on the desk next to her and digs into the bottom of the pants pile, looking for something dark. Law seems to have found something noteworthy, too.

“Lace?” he raises an eyebrow. He's both baffled that jeans like this one exist, and slightly alarmed at the thought of 'it looks rather nice'.

“Oh, found that one? I already forgot about it... was a second hand bargain, brand new and a perfect fit... but it's not my style and such, so haven't worn it at all. Might as well keep it forever. Anyway,” she grunts, dragging out something,” here, this is the most 'you' piece I've got.” He's offered another pair of dark blue jeans with decorative black threads; she then steps over to the shirts and whatnot to cut the load. Law finds that the piece given to him also saw little wear thus far. He flips it open to take a better look, and notices... some additional yellow rhinestones around the pockets and knees...

He blinks. It's easy enough to guess what kind of stuff he's perfectly fine wearing, but combined with the previous gluten remark... it's getting worrying, to say the least. “... you are a rather scary woman, you know that?” he asks, still fixated on the garment and taking a mental note to just maybe mix up his wardrobe a little bit. Maybe not start a lace collection, but, you know.

She shrugs. “You know how the saying about the silent ones goes.” she jokes. Yes, he does, is part of the club, and that's what makes him antsy over here. “On a more serious note... if there's one thing I have going for me, then it's that I'm a good observer. So I'll take that as a compliment.”

“That's still a lot of details for us having met on Tuesday.” And he usually notices when being watched, not to mention the short timeframe- Kat is scary, goddammit. He's grateful to all the people with observation skills like these doing mundane things like taking care of the image of some shop instead of... tell it as it is, spy work and assassination. Speaking of observation, though... there's no guarantee, but he'll have to probe whether she has haki. If so, she's totally unaware.

“If it makes you sleep easier, you are not alone. I noticed odd habits all across the alliance board, with few exceptions.” She says, then realizes that this must have had the total opposite effect than intended. Some of the things she did notice would definitely fly a red flag if the person knew, too. “Okay,” she turns towards him, getting a look. “I know what you are thinking, and you are right: what I just said sounds way creepier. Let's just... pack these things and forget this conversation ever happened.”

He agrees with a hum, symbolically zipping his mouth. Grabs one more pair of pants to throw on the greenlit bundle a second later, though. For good measure.

The whole reaction appears silly to her... it does ease her anxiety somewhat, though. He can be cute if he wants to. “Ready?” she asks with a little smile. Her expression fades into a thoughtful one once she surveys the things they've sorted out, though. She still should have the thing that's perfect for this task. “I'll need to get the one big bag from the Dump for all this.”

He blinks. “The... Dump?”

“The door between here and the bathroom. It's a smaller place I've had no use for... so I just throw in whatever I don't need at the moment.” she explains, giving the beard a scratch again. “It's... kinda messy. If I can't spot it immediately, it might take a while. But multiple medium bags will also do, we have to find either.” There's, of course, the possibility that the lesser bags are all stuffed into that tent of a thing she used for moving in, though...

'I see,' is what he wants to say, but something's making noise at the entrance- it's the pile of junk she propped up for the bowl, except it wasn't a stable construction, and now... it's all sliding back to reclaim its rightful place on the desk, pushing the porcelain to the side by the second, until---

“Nonono---!” she squeaks, reaching towards the faraway object in vain.

Next thing she knows, though: she's holding it. Umm… correction: holding most of it. There's a small, but clean, and slightly angled cut at the top and the missing piece cracks unceremoniously on the ground. A chunk of her desk itself also falls, albeit on the bed she was reaching over- similarly to some of the victorious mess. The other part of it is burying the sad shards.

Law is about as surprised as she is- and also relieved. She... she did it. Decapitated just about everything, yes, but good enough for a start. Step one, which he was most concerned about, is done. As the shock fades, Kat's eyes light up- theory is one thing, but actually doing it... this... is goddamn cool.

#opfanfic #Kate writes #it's a self insert kinda oc and body swap fic fyi #KMKY

0 notes