#Kindness and beauty that gathers in the sweet letters of your name like dawn gathers light.

[yellowfingcr]

@of-forossa said: "I already trust her, with all that I have and all that I am."

"I would dare quibble and say I am unsure it is a wise choice, but. You know me. You do. You have seen me and under your eyes I did not die. And you are what I trust most in the world, as well, so to your judgement I only bow my head."

"Half of my heart. My lodestar true."

#offorossa #er au #Kindness and beauty that gathers in the sweet letters of your name like dawn gathers light.

[mollymauk-teafleak]

I can see in your face that you mean it

Guess whose back. Back again.

Yeah I had a bad anxiety day so dived back into some old comfort media and decided to finish off a fic I started back in my intital Nightrunners obsession phase.

It's fluff and smut and emotions and if you like it, please consider leaving a comment over on Ao3!

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Oh Aura, he’s beautiful.

Seregil would have thought, hoped maybe, that after months of pining after Alec and everything they’d been through, after finally getting him into bed and opening his heart in a way he’d never done before, he’d be done with this. That there wouldn’t be moments when his lover’s eyes caught the morning light or he grinned in that way that showed the slight gap in his front teeth or he’d feel his soft hair run through his fingers and Seregil’s heart would drop like he was half a child again and didn’t recognise the taste of love. And in his mind he’d just sigh he’s beautiful.

Except now he got to feel the second heart throbbing behind his own with it’s own silly, dizzy, free falling love and Seregil would get to follow it with and he’s mine.

Five days since their first together and none had been exactly like any other. Each one had been unique as Alec’s confidence grew and he began to ask for more, push further, move into the spaces Seregil left for him. He was as quick a learner as he’d ever been though Seregil couldn’t remember ever being quite so delighted by it. Maybe as he’d watched him learn his letters and read his first books while delight dawned in his eyes, perhaps that would come a fairly close second.

But when he closed the door to their Watermead room behind him and flicked the lock across with a reassuringly heavy metallic thunk, turning to see Alec already sprawled naked across the bed, Seregil thought maybe it wasn’t that close at all. Because what could compare to this?

Gods above, he’s beautiful.

“Come on,” Alec stretched out a hand to him playfully, a needy whine in his voice that may have been part of the game and may not have been, “I’ve been waiting for ages, how long does ‘one last cup of beer’ take?”

“When it’s as good as Kari’s? Quite a while,” Seregil smirked with amusement, coming over and catching Alec’s hand in his own, “And besides, I was trying to make it slightly less obvious what we would be doing. Trying to save what little of your modesty was left after you tore up the stairs as soon as dinner was done.”

Alec blushed a little but not as much as he might have done a few nights ago, “Everyone in the house already knows...and besides, you promised me something new.”

“That I did, talí,” Seregil raised Alec’s knuckles to his lips, “I would add that it’s only if you're willing but judging by how you tripped rushing up here- everyone saw that, by the way- you’re more than willing.”

His cheeks now the bright cherry colour Seregil knew and loved, Alec shivered, “You said perhaps we could go a little further…”

Seregil nipped at the inside of his wrist before letting go so he could make short work of his own clothes. Wearing any scrap of material while his lover was so pleasingly naked was unbearable. As he did, Alec rolled onto his back, stretching like a contented cat as if to make absolutely sure there was no possible inch of him he hadn’t seen. They’d been repairing and painting fences that day, there were still scrapes on Alec’s palms and knees from their work, white wash on his hairline he’d missed as he’d scrubbed off the marks from their duelling with paintbrushes. Little imperfections, lingering traces of the time they’d spent together, like a map Seregil was eager to follow.

Gods, he’s just so beautiful.

Twice in one night, what was happening to him?

Now undressed, Seregil nudged Alec’s legs open enough that he could kneel on the bed between them, “Not so much further, my talí, I won’t be asking a lot of you. I just...well, offering you some more of me?”

Alec’s eyes widened at the edges, as he gazed up at Seregil, “Oh. Like, um...like the tavern board?”

Seregil grinned, he really owed some of his green lantern friends a drink if they were ever back in Rhíminee, “Well, not quite as athletic as all that. And strictly just the two of us. But in essence? In mechanics? Yes.”

There was a soft inhalation, a flush creeping down Alec’s neck, “So...me...me in you?” Just saying the words sent the flush bleeding down across his collarbone.

“That is the way I’m used to doing things though I’d certainly be interested in covering all of our options, as it were,” Seregil tilted his head playfully, “Another night. For now, I thought this would be a little less daunting.”

Alec’s teeth snagged his lower lip, his clever mind clearly working behind his bright eyes as they slid down the length of Seregil’s body. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t rather smug at the look of hunger and want that swiftly gathered in them.

“I’m willing to try,” Alec murmured eventually, his smile coming back quick and coy and daring, “As long as you promise I won’t be hurting you.”

Seregil raised an eyebrow and let his own eyes wander shamelessly, focusing between Alec’s open legs, “Well...it’s your rather superior equipment against my experience, isn’t it?”

“Oh hush!” Alec snorted, kicking out at him lightly, “I’m serious!”

Laughing, Seregil caught him by the ankle, pressing kisses along the inside of his leg, “I promise I’ll tell you if I need you to slow down or hold still. Communication, yes? Just like we talked about.”

Alec nodded, melting into the touch, growing pliant and supple. He knew this, he’d grown pleasantly familiar with such attentions to Seregil’s joy. And where his lover’s limited experience ended, Seregil could take his hand and lead him.

So he took his time, devotedly ensuring Alec was boneless and purring contentedly, soft and relaxed everywhere but between the legs. Only then did he pull back and go for his pack, left carefully within reach just over the edge of the bed. He drew back, holding a small bottle of oil made in red glass and shaped rather fancifully into a heart, stoppered with black wax.

“What’s that?” Alec asked, now watching every one of his movements very carefully.

“Ah,” Seregil slipped easily into his instructing voice, naturally holding the same tone he would if he were introducing Alex to a new type of lock, “When people make love in this fashion, a little extra help is required to allow things to move easily. That’s what this oil is for. Very important, particularly from my perspective.”

“Oh, to his credit, Alec was blushing less ferociously each time, “And, um...what do you do with it?”

Seregil smiled indulgently, eyes sparkling, “Why don’t I show you, talí?”

He opened the stopper with his teeth, holding the bottle at a height so Alec could watch it ooze thickly onto his fingertips. In the low candlelight, it shone like glass fresh drawn from a blower’s oven, it moved like honey.

Immediately, Alec sniffed, eyes brightening, “It smells nice...what is that?”

Seregil chuckled, tilting the bottle back to stem the flow once he judged he had enough, “You’re not getting away that easily. You tell me.”

“I thought we were making love, not a lesson,” Alec wrinkled his nose but he wasn’t one to miss a chance for praise, “Um...roses. Vanilla. Oh, those yellow flowers that grow in the Oreska House park, I can’t remember their name…”

“Ylang,” Seregil supplied, beaming proudly, “Well done, my love. This is the finest stuff from the Street of Lights so it’s scented. I expect we’ll have some leaner times in the future but fortunately there are a lot of other cheaper options that work just as well.”

He worked as he spoke, working the oil between his thumb and fingers, warming it a little. In moments, the air was filled with that rich, floral smell, the kind of scent you could get drunk on. Alec inhaled deeply, watching closely so he didn’t miss a moment of what Seregil was doing.

“And that stuff goes where exactly?” he breathed, curiosity and lust making him a little impatient.

“Plenty on your cock before it comes anywhere near me,” Seregil hummed, “You may think I’m flattering you, talí, but I’m perfectly serious. You’re one of the more...physically gifted lovers I’ve had.”

“One of?” Alec muttered as Seregil shifted, lazily stretching out onto his back then propping himself up on one elbow, stretching his legs out across his lover’s. Alec took immediate advantage, running his hands up Seregil’s calves, enjoying the play of muscle there.

Seregil either didn’t hear or chose not to hear, continuing, “But first my body needs some preparation. Other times this can be your task, if you like, but for tonight...just watch and learn.”

Alec nodded hard, his attention now fully caught on Seregil’s hand, two fingers shining with the oil, and it’s path down between his open legs. He’d spent the last five nights exploring every inch of his faie’s body but he still felt a slight shiver when he was allowed to see these most intimate parts of him, when he was allowed to feel some sense of ownership of them. Five nights was not nearly long enough that Alec’s pupils didn’t widen, his breath didn’t quicken, his mouth didn’t dry at the sight of Seregil sinking first one finger into himself, then two. He wasn’t sure an entire lifetime would be enough.

“Gods…” he murmured, apparently unconscious of the naked awe on his face, “And that...that feels good?”

Seregil rather thought his rapidly hardening prick answered that question but he was charmed nonetheless, “Yes. There’s a spot a little deeper, hold on...ah, there, right there...not strictly the point of this but gods, yes, it feels good.”

His voice grew more strained and breathy as he brushed his sweet spot, as he coaxed his muscles into slackening, scissoring his fingers and chuckling at the expression that put on Alec’s face as he watched, enraptured and practically salivating. He’d started leaning forward, apparently not realising that he was now sat right up off the bolsters.

“That’ll do,” Seregil eventually sighed, drawing his fingers back, “If it were you, I’d give you a little more but I rather like when it has a bit of bite to it.”

“Now me,” Alec reached for the oil, still in Seregil’s other hand, clearly eager to progress.

But Seregil sat up quick, holding the red vial just out of reach with an amused smirk, “Ah ah. Sit back, talí.”

Alec swallowed hand but did as he was bid, hands flitting to his chest where they waited like anxious birds. He watched, wide eyed and breath coming in snatches, as Seregil poured oil on his trembling erection from a few inches above, giving a strangled moan as the cool liquid met his burning skin.

“I want to make the most of this,” Seregil purred, “The first time I get to have you share my body...I won’t rush this, talí.”

Alec’s youth flashed through for a moment as he stuck his tongue out but then fell quiet as Seregil’s fingers caught the oil dripping down the side of his cock, working the slick across the flesh. Both of them seemed to realise the importance this night had taken, maybe feeling it in the talímenios bond humming with love and need between them. They would have hundreds of nights together over their long lives, they would know each other in so many ways, but everything would have a one and only first. And that was cause to hold your breath, bare your heart and pay attention.

Seregil kept his attentions brief and light, remembering that Alec had the stamina of someone very new to sex. He stopped as soon as his lover’s cock was shining in the rapidly dimming glow of their bedside candle.

“How…” Alec murmured, pupils now wide enough that little of their blue colour could be seen.

Seregil smiled indulgently, “You lie back, talí. It’ll let me set the pace of things and I want to see your beautiful face.”

That made Alec chuckle as he slid completely onto his back, making room for Seregil to mount him, to bracket his hips with his knees. He didn’t sink down just yet, taking a moment to admire his young lover’s face, the anticipation and surprise at a new, unfamiliar desire. Seregil lightly touched Alec’s cheek and, there again, that thought.

Oh Aura, he’s beautiful. How can he be so beautiful and not know? How can he be so beautiful and be mine?

Alec just smiled, turning his head slightly and kissing the tips of Seregil’s fingers, tasting rose and vanilla. Either the thought hadn’t made it across the talímenios bond in its entirety or Alec had simply heard, he’d glimpsed the insecurity that lay not all that deep beneath Seregil’s crooked smile and had swept it into the pile of things he loved about him without a second thought. Like it could be so easy.

“I love you,” the words were rawer than he’d intended, bursting from his chest like a bird fleeing through a bent bar in its cage. He’d said it before and he’d meant it but this time it came from the very soul of him.

And Alec smiled, bright as sunlight, meaning it just as much but finding it so much easier, “I love you too, Seregil.”

Dark strands of hair falling in his face, Seregil had no answer to that but to reach back and take Alec’s cock in his hand, guiding him inside him as he slowly sank down. Any more words and he felt he might explode. But this he could do, he could give Alec his body and gladly.

Alec gave a strained moan as soon as the head of him pushed past the tight ring, face tensing, “Gods...oh gods, Seregil…”

Seregil took a deep, slow breath, allowing and not forcing his body to stretch to accommodate Alec. There was pain, just an edge to it, the kind he had always loved about this act. Eventually, inch by inch, he took him down to the hilt, shifting both hands to brace on Alec’s chest.

“You’re so tight, fuck…”

Seregil gave a trembling, breathy laugh, tilting his head back, “Just give me a moment, talí…”

Alec held obediently still, even as a low moan echoed through his chest. His blonde hair fanned about the sheets like a sunburst, his jaw clenched tight, his eyes fixed on Seregil’s face with such devotion. He looked almost godlike, something to be worshipped.

Finally, Seregil felt ready, moving his hips slowly and then gradually faster. Each time, Alec pressed against his sweet spot, direct and undeniable, pulling a high gasp from him at the peak. Eventually he felt his talímenios move too, angling his hips to meet Seregil’s movements, near lifting him clear off the bed. He could only express his approval in a broken, wanton cry, drawing his nails down Alec’s chest.

“Oh talí, my talí,” he gasped, high and wild, falling forward so his hair fell in a waterfall about them, pulling him into a desperate kiss that was lavishly returned. He bucked wildly now, body instinctively seeking release.

“Seregil…” Alec keened into his open mouth, “Fuck, I...I can’t…”

“Let go,” Seregil gasped, pressing their foreheads together, “I’ve got you, it’s alright.”

“I...Seregil...fuck,” he near screamed the last few words, whole body snapping taught and rigid, hands flying up to seize his lover’s hips hard enough to bruise, holding him in place as he flooded him with heat.

Seregil cursed in Aurënfaie as he fell, bare seconds behind, painting Alec’s chest and chin in spatters of white. Not just their bodies but their bond thrummed as if set alight, pleasure almost painful to hold like you weren’t sure your body could hold it. But finally, just at the point where it would become too much, it peaked and both men were left panting and shaking.

Somewhere in it all the candles had finally guttered, Alec and Seregil coming back to their own minds in darkness. Outside, an owl called out a sweet, lowing song.

Alec moved, catching their lips together again, kissing him now gently and sweetly. Sergeil was helpless in his hands and his tenderness, feeling small and soft and safe above all.

“That was...gods, that was incredible,” Alec eventually murmured, his voice raspy and fractured, “What in the name of the gods was I doing for a year when we could have been doing this?”

Seregil laughed, feeling Alec soften and slip out of him, letting him fully sprawl across his lover and fully give in to his exhaustion.

“We have hundreds of years to make up for it, my sweet. Don’t you worry.”

Alec sighed happily, that thought giving him so much comfort as he threw a leg over Seregil to press him closer, “I don’t know how you do it. How you make me feel so brave so I can do things I never thought I could.”

Seregil pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw, “I don’t make you brave, talí. I just remind you that you are.”

Alec sounded like he wanted to argue but was too tired, just embracing Seregil all the tighter, “Do we need to bathe now? After all that?”

“We should,” Seregil admitted, sighing and forcing himself to roll onto his back, “Especially me. You’re running down the backs of my legs…”

Alec wrinkled his nose and groaned, throwing his arms over his eyes as Seregil made himself stand, “Why is making love so messy when it's two men?”

Seregil looked over his shoulder, intending to make some wry comment but it died on his tongue. Alec had let his arms drop, revealing his face. Edged in what moonlight could creep past the curtains, his face flushed from exertion, gloriously naked and open and honest. Smelling of roses and sex, conquered and triumphant. Everything Seregil had told himself he didn’t deserve and yet here it was.

“What?” Alec was looking back at him, a soft smile playing on his lips, “You keep staring at me.”

Seregil inclined his head, padding back over to the bed and kissing him again just because he couldn’t imagine doing anything else at that moment. When he was done, he drew back just enough that he could see his lover’s face, knowing Alec could feel his love just behind his own heart.

“You’re just so beautiful.”

#nightrunners #Alec #seregil #smut #stag and otter #Alec x seregil #lynn flewelling

[andotherbiases]

“into the fall” deleted scene, vers. 2

writing that thread yesterday reminded me that I had so many versions of the scene where MY goes to KT’s place. They all ended up being too angsty to make it into the final version of the story, but now that I used the snuggles & storytime version in “journal of a teenage year” I feel like I can share these other deleted scenes.

In this version, MY goes to KT’s place not because she’s realized her feelings for him, but because she’s upset. I’ll lead into the scene with text from the published version in italics, so you can see where it would have been situated in the original story. This particular version has parts from the other deleted scene (let’s call that one version 1), but with a different ending dialogue. I was sad to loose the intimacy of this scene, because it shows just how much deeper their connection is, but alas, I just wanted to write a light-hearted story so... 

Anyway, I’ll post another version in the coming days. I hope you enjoy!

Version 2: Angst city

Sometimes he stays the night. Sometimes not.

Sometimes they meet and don’t have sex. Sometimes an office visit really is just an office visit.

Moon-young doesn’t really know what the rules are here. She doesn’t understand what they’re doing. Kang-tae doesn’t mention it, never brings it up, and seems perfectly happy with whatever their arrangement is. But she’s confused and unsettled, unsure of what to do or say. Mostly because, surprisingly enough, a re-introduction to their physical intimacy has not produced the hell-mouth she thought it would.

There hasn’t been a single fight. She can’t remember the last time one of them snapped at the other. When it was that one of them stormed out of a room in anger.

When they’re together, in between all the hooking up, they snuggle and laugh and share thoughts and opinions and secrets. And it is nice. Nice that they could be like this again. Nice to lower walls. Nice to share in the intimacy that had always been present between them.

It feels so natural.

But it also feels so fragile, like a spring morning, and Moon-young doesn’t want to ruin it, doesn’t want to destroy this good and beautiful thing by bringing up questions and whatever harsh reality exists for them.

If it can’t be forever, she’ll take it for right now.

And she’ll worry about the fall later.

It happens unexpectedly.

Moon-young is having a terrible day. Any contact with her estranged mother sours her mood completely, ruins any plans that she might have had. A single phone call and a shadow will loom over her for the rest of the day, dark and storming and brewing. It makes her want to lash out at the world, makes her want to be reckless, makes her want to do something big and dangerous -- something that she can throw all her energy, all her feelings, all her thoughts towards. Something to distract her. 

Something to ease her weary heart.  

She doesn’t know how she ended up at Kang-tae’s door, but he takes one look at her face and lets her in without a word. 

They’re sitting at the kitchen counter, cups of lukewarm tea before them. They’re just sitting, sometimes exchanging words but mostly just sitting in the moment, sharing the space together. Silence stretches on between them, but it isn’t empty nor is it burdensome. It occurs to Moon-young that he is the only person that she feels comfortable enough with to not have to say anything at all.  

Kang-tae is sitting by her side, nursing his mug and waiting to listen to anything that she might say. His usual suits and coiffed hair are replaced with casual t-shirts and a pair of thick glasses. On the table next to them are notes from some manuscript, the red scrawls from his pen bleed across the page.  

“I’m sorry for interrupting. You were working,” she says, only just piecing together that he might have been busy when she arrived at his door. 

He waves her off. “It’s not important.”

They lapse into silence once more. 

“Is this about your mom?” he asks, breaking into her thoughts. If the question had come from anyone but Kang-tae, she would have denied it. Would have stormed out of the room, having no desire to air out her family’s dirty laundry. But he wasn’t just anyone. He knew her whole history. This wasn’t the first time he’s seen her angry and upset and despondent. Moon-young meets his eyes and finds only sympathy, not pity. 

She nods. 

Kang-tae purses his lips, clearly displeased. “What did she say this time?”

“The usual,” she shrugs. “How I’m an ungrateful daughter. How I wouldn’t be where I am if it wasn’t for her. It’s always the same. Nothing I haven’t heard before.”

“I wish she would just leave you alone.”

“She had no problem doing it before,” Moon-young says bitterly. “Funny how becoming a best-selling author changes things.” 

Her mother had abandoned her just after her tenth birthday, leaving her under the care of her mostly absent father. Moon-young was raised by a series of live-in babysitters and tutors. She hadn’t heard a single word from her mother in over fifteen years. It wasn’t until her first book was published and her name was in the news that Moon-young first got a phone call from an unknown number. 

Moon-young’s long lost mother was suddenly interested in reconciling. Had seen the error of her ways. Had seen a photo of Moon-young in the local paper and wanted to get to know the woman she had become. 

But Moon-young wasn’t interested. Her success was hers alone. And if her mother didn’t care enough to go through the tough times with her, all the times when Moon-young had struggled to live as a writer and received rejection letter after rejection letter, then her mother certainly didn’t have a right to enjoy Moon-young’s success. 

Her mother, naturally, did not appreciate being so cut out, and ever so often Moon-young received a letter or call that full of vitriol from her own mother. 

In a way, she felt haunted.

Suddenly, Moon-young pushes away her tea. “I need something stronger,” she declares, already moving to stand and make good use of Kang-tae’s well-stocked dry bar.

Instead, he reaches over and takes her hand in his. His hold is so stable, so steadfast and sure. His thumbs rub circles on the back of her hand, and Moon-young finds herself sitting back down. 

“Let’s leave the alcohol for another time,” he suggests, his words calm and gentle. “How about we get you into bed, and I’ll read you a story.”

Somewhere in the middle of his tale, Moon-young starts to cry.  

Tears leak from her eyes, pouring out her sadness, and she can’t help it. Can’t stop the shaking of her chin or the sobs that crawl out of her mouth. 

And she hates it all, because her mother doesn’t deserve her sadness, her tears.

But Kang-tae is right there. 

He pulls her in tighter, brushes away her tears before they have a chance to fall. He whispers comforting words in her ear, reminds her of how brilliant she is, and how strong, and that she didn’t owe her mother anything, that Moon-young belonged to herself.

And he kisses her. 

Soft, lingering kisses on her cheeks, her eyelids. When Kang-tae kisses her lips, she can taste the saltiness of her tears. 

But also, a sweetness. A kindness.

She wants, so desperately, to capture that. To taste it on her tongue and devour it so that it becomes a part of her. To be so full of sweetness and kindness that there is no room for sadness. So that nothing bad can ever get in.

Moon-young wraps her arms around Kang-tae’s neck, bringing him in closer until the weight of his body presses down on her, and she slides her tongue past his lips. 

“Hey, hey,” he says, breaking off the kiss. “It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything tonight.”

He didn’t understand. She needed this. She shakes her head. “No, please,” Moon-young insists, arching up into him.

Kang-tae hisses at the contact. “I think,” he starts, his voice now shaky, “that we should just try and sleep. You’re upset and I--”

“Please, Kang-tae,” she reaches up to try and kiss him again. She needs this. Needs this oblivion. “Please, I--”

He tries to avoid her lips. “Moon-young…”

“Please just make love to me,” she blurts in desperation.

He freezes. Seconds roll by before he pulls back, hovering over her. “What?” 

And for some reason she’s crying again. “Please, please. Kang-tae. Please can you just--” and she doesn’t care that she’s begging. 

Kang-tae’s gaze is probing as he locks eyes with her. He’s hesitating, warring with himself, but slowly his eyes drop from hers to settle on her lips. He gives a small nod before he kisses her.

Afterwards she’s almost asleep when the fall happens. It is so quiet she nearly misses it. 

“I love you.”

Her eyes open, she’s fully awake now, but forces her body to remain still. She stays that way, until she recognizes Kang-tae’s deep breath of sleep.

Moon-young is fumbling around in the dark trying to gather her things. It is early still, dawn is just on the horizon, giving just enough light for her to slide out of Kang-tae’s bed and make a hasty exit. 

“Don’t forget your purse is in the kitchen,” comes a voice.

Surprised at being caught, Moon-young spins on her heel, and even in the darkness she can see Kang-tae’s eyes staring at her. He sits up and reaches for his pants, but seeing his bare chest for some reason seems too intimate and she avoids her gaze. 

He turns on a lamp, and the sudden brightness burns. 

“Leaving already?” he asks as he approaches her. There is almost something predatory in his gait, the firm set of his mouth. 

Moon-young only just resists the impulse to take a step back. “I didn’t want to wake you,” she tries to explain.

“Hm,” he considers her answer. “And this doesn’t have anything to do with last night?”

Her heart is slamming against her ribcage. Did he know? Something like panic races through her veins. 

Kang-tae continues. “The part where you heard me say that I love you.” He takes a breath. “I love you, Moon-young.” 

Moon-young has to step away then. It is too much. She feels like she can’t take in enough air, not enough to breath, not enough to process what is happening. Tears begin to prickat her eyes, and she doesn’t understand why. 

She pushes him away. “I have to go.”

He grabs her hand.

“Don’t go. Don’t run away. We’re good together, Moon-young. These last few weeks, we’ve been so good together.”

She snatches her hand back. 

“Don’t do this,” he tells her, trying to hold onto her. “Moon-young!”

“This was just supposed to be sex,” she cries. “You weren’t supposed to fall in love with me!”

“I’ve always been in love with you!” he responds.

“What?”

“I can’t help it,” he holds her by the shoulders, hoping against hope that she’ll stay. “I’ve always loved you.”

She feels the world tilt on its axis and it steals her breath. “I have to go.” 

And she runs, right out of his room, right out of his apartment, and down the block until he’s no longer calling her name, no longer trying to follow her.

#itf #im worried ppl will like this more than the final version lol

[imtryingthisout]

A World Grown Backwards and Inside Out: The Tree and The Child

Synopsis: A reverse Au based on @tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors wonderful story Love and Other Fairytales

Warnings: Descriptions of Rot, one guy acting a fool, ask for more

Word Count: 1922

———————————————————————-

Once there was a tree that grew on the outskirts of the forest, right on the edge of civilization and nature. Straddling both sides with sweeping branches and open arms.

It was a mighty fine tree. With a thick heavy trunk and bark that laid like scales on a snake. Overlapping and building on top of one another till it created a hearty cover over the cambium. Healthy green leaves sprouted from its limbs and provided ample shade in the summertime, where the tree would shield those under it. Protecting them from the sun’s harsh rays.

It was a good old tree, a kind old tree, who loved the all children of Wickhills. The human ones who played under it’s skirt of leaves. The wild ones who hid in the shadows of its embrace. But the ones that were caught in the inbetween, the little curious ones who danced on the borderline and were drawn to the other side too much to leave it be, those were the children that the tree loved most of all.

But just because it was old and kind and fine, did not mean it wasn’t a tree. Did not mean it was untouchable. Wood rots no matter how loved it is, and rot it did. The sickness started at the edges, the little branches that sprouted from the ends of the tips of the furthest limbs. But no one noticed, because the shining children who would climb to see those branches had grown up. Slower than others might, but They grew up all the same. They turned Their eyes to the burning throne, where they found a new playground in the courtly revels. And no longer cared to look upon the tree. To eat its brambles and sleep in it’s arms.

Because the tree was a fine one, but not a Fair one, the folk of the forest cared for it no longer.

Spring turned into Summer and rot spreads faster in the heat. It festered in the tree’s arms and slithered down it’s neck.

The human children grew into themselves and turned into human adults. They got human jobs and earned human money and wanted human partners. Soon their days were filled to the brim. It wasn’t as if they didn't want to visit the tree, they were just too busy. There was work to do and food to make and children to rear and--

And so they did not notice how it’s vivid green leaves dulled and turned brown. How its bark twisted and fell and shed. They were far too busy with their lives. “Money doesn’t grow on trees,” they’d say, but neither did it buy happiness.

Because the tree was an old one, but not a profitable one, the humans cared for it no longer.

Summer cooled down like a dying corpse, and they called that decay Autumn. The air chilled and the sun hid behind the clouds that gathered above the earth. Every day the world grew more and more dark.

From the tips to the head, down the spine and to the bed, the rot traveled further and further.

Winter came. Winter came not with a storm nor with a flash. There was no warm knock on the door nor letter of attendance. It came, as it always did in those recent years, with a whisper. A slow crawl. Summer died and Autumn decayed and as time peeled back the layers of decomposition and ruined flesh, slowly (ever so slowly) the exposed bones became Winter.

And Winter meant so many things. It meant shorter days and longer nights. It meant the human children did not go outside to venture to the edge of the town. It meant the Fae were busy chasing shadows and playing court. It meant the tree would die alone.

Not even the wayward ones, the in-between children, the onesso loved by the tree would visit. They had grown up. They had picked sides. They squashed down their curiosity and settled into life like how a stone settles into mud.

Like how a mold settles into bark. Settles and spreads and eats and eats and eats and eats---

Once there was a boy. A sweet little boy who had kind eyes and a quick smile. This boy loved the tree and the tree loved him in turn. Loved how his hair grew upward and out like it’s own branches. Loved how he would sleep on its roots and leave a portion of his meals for the tree to eat. How he would dance around in the fields and try to touch the moon with his hands.

The boy grew up, got married to a woman with eyes keen and beautiful. A woman with a lovely voice and strong arms who could lift him up so that he might reach higher, higher, higher. Higher to grasp for the stars.

But even the boy grew up and chose a side, but unlike so many of his brothers, he remembered.

He went out during Winter-

He left his house during Winter-

He braved the storm during Winter-

He walked. Out. Outside. It was Winter. And Winter is cold. Cold and bitter and hungry. It freezes the world in a single moment and refuses to let go until Spring. It bites and wails and crushes heat like ants under its heels.

Winter is a petulant, greedy, child. And the no-longer-boy braves it’s bitter tantrum.

He travels down the town’s road and his memories. Cobbled pavement hard and slick with ice. As he walked the stones turned to patted dirt and the patted dirt turned to dead grass that crunched like ice under his boots.

It was Summertime last time he walked down this path (so ingrained in his bones he scarcely had to think). The end of Summer, right before the leaves turned gold-orange-red, when the days were still long but the air was crisp and sharp. A setting sun season, teetering on the edge of day and night.

They’d played for hours back then, him and the other children, ran around like spinning tops across the narrow fields. They were mindful enough to never stray too far into the forest, but that was all they were mindful of. Time, exhaustion, the world outside their little corner, did not exist to them. They ran around with eyes full of youth and skin glistening in the falling sun. Little starlight children, caught in between dusk and dawn.

And above them all was the tree. Always present, always watching, with a hundred dark and careful eyes and a hundred long and reaching arms.

This was how the tree looked in the boys' memories. Larger than life and twice as vivid, an image warped by time and nostalgia. Rounding around Miller’s Bridge, into the thin clearing of frozen grass and land that divides Wickhills and the Forest, the not-boy came face to face with reality.

Black and yellow. A twisted spire protruding from the ice-gray ground. Stuck out like a knotted wound. Darkened rot covered the decrypt figure like a thick winter coat. Standing out in front of the myriad of naked trees, the thin broken things with claws for branches and ribs for tunks, turned pale and ashen in the Winter. It was a corpse among the sleeping. Even those standing giants looked more lively than it. The thing that was no longer the tree.

And all around it’s stomach was the lashings of yellow fungus, that had come to feast on the crumbling flesh of the thing. The rot that spread from the furthest branches to the deepest roots. The rot that kills from the outside in.

The Not-Boy placed a gloved hand on the trunk. Rested a forehead on its chest. He was a carpenter, not a healer, and even he knew it was too late to stop nature. Everything that comes from the earth will eventually return to it. He knew that. Everyone knows that.

But because the tree was a loved one, and love means something. Always. The Once-Boy would not let it fall alone in the night.

The rot was a sickness that infected and burrowed. The bark was long eaten and the branches long fallen. But when he struck into the tree with his axe, the Man discovered a wondrous sight. The heart-wood was not touched by the disease that riddled the body, it stood as good and healthy as any prime oak’s.

So with a heavy and joy-filled heart, he cut down the tree, and carefully cleaned the black from it’s heart and the rot from it’s bones.

He took that wood home, and fastened a crib for his expectant wife. So that his child may too grow up cradled in the heart of the Tree. Loved and protected just as he once was. Him and all the other in-between children, playing on the edge of the sky.

In nine months time, a child will come, being born into the house that carries the tree love. The babe will be born on the first snow-fall of the season, when the air is cool and the hearth blazing. A son, wrapped in furs and nestled inside of the pale wood of his cradle. And they named him Cerdic.

--------------------------------

The girl was a quiet child, far too quiet some would say. With too large eyes and a wispy figure. Not skinny enough to cast a shadow.

Teachers would find her on the outskirts of the playground. Standing away from any commotion or company. Watching, watching, seldomly speaking or making noise. Mrs. Sherman the second grade teacher confesses that it’s hard to remember that the child exists sometimes, when caught in the loudness of the moment. Mr. Ferguson once tried to joke, “Are you sure that babe is yours? Seems like the Folk of the Frost might’ve gotten confused, forgot that snow is not skin when making the switch-”

Her Pop’s didn't like Mr. Ferguson's jokes, and neither did Ma, if the twitching in her fingers were any indicator. So Mr. Ferguson left their shop followed by tight smiles and shaking hands and did not make a joke in front of them again.

All the while, none of the adults seemed to notice the girl playing by herself in the corner.

Lily-White had three older siblings. A brother named Ash who was off in college with a full ride scholarship. Two sisters called Prim-Rose and Lacey-Anne who terrorized the halls of Wickhills high. Her herself was not the youngest, Maple was the baby of the house, barely two years old. Quiet, patient, not outgoing or extroverted, a small content child, who did not demand attention or help. Lily-White should have been a wallflower at best. Drowned out and ignored by peers and adults. And she was- almost.

Lily-White was not really named Lily-White. When her Ma was thinking up names for the child growing in her belly, she and Pa had come to a decision. If it was a boy they would name him Sorrel, and if it was a girl they would name her Lily-Rose. With that in mind, all was well. However, when the day that the babe came, born on the last eve of winter, silent as snow and just as pale. Pa was so shaken up that he accidentally wrote down Lily-White, in crooked letters, on the birth certificate. Cause that's what she was, sleeping in her mother’s dark arms, a lily white moon-child in a family of night.

And she was loved.

#sander sides #sander sides au #fic #writing #A World Grown Backwards au #love and other fairytales #Laoft White #orginal characters

[jumpingflyingsidekick]

At What Cost : Part 2

Kia ora, this took so long. I’m not even sure if it’s what I wanted but it’s what I have. I’m deeply invested in this one.

A Kageyama fanfic with thought provoking one-shots about his rise through his volleyball career with a partner. Second one-shot kind of thing. Remember to picture YOUR OC as Shurui.  

I don’t own, just a fanfic.

Name: At what cost

Part one: What do you love more

                                                           X

Walking along side

Volleyball was the center of his attention and she knew that.

Leaving Miyagi district was hard for them. But in the grand scheme of things it was necessary, they needed to move. And although Kageyama didn’t make a lot of money, he made enough to provide for them both and a beautiful tidy home.

It is small but a modest house they shared. Shurui had been careful in the selection. In the summer it warmed her skin the sun, it peaked through the kitchen window in the morning onto the table. And disappeared in the afternoon behind the large apartment block set three levels high, blocking the sun. However, it was winter, she poured Kageyama another tea, he responded by picking it up instantly with eyes focused on his laptop.

He pushed his chair in and gathered his gear, “we’ll be finished late afternoon, want me to pick something up?”

“No, I have everything.”

He kissed her forehead sweetly and left for the day. The National Team practiced religiously six days a week three times a day. It was a struggle, but they spent time where possible.

She smiled as the envelope fluttered away when it sent. She often sent him sweet text messages throughout the day, and he would reply when able which was usually during water breaks.

A puff of hot air escaped when he smiled, ‘I love you.’ He shivered, the morning frost was cold, he tugged the scarf higher to stop the snowflakes hitting. Another smile as he tucked the phone away and remembered a time when they’d been shy to express their feelings.

He thought back to the moment he blurted his confession.

Kageyama high from a win jumped the barrier and ran straight to her. He pulled her into an embrace and kissed her passionately, and the crowd roared. “I love you,” he screamed, a grin spread wide. So, he said it first.

And during winter, for her, time moved slowly. The days were long when she spent them alone. On many occasions they argued about her reasoning for getting a job. Kageyama would scoff each time because the thought of it offended him. He was stubborn. Every time the subject would be raised, he would revert to a child and she would smile sweetly and nod agreeing with him once more. Though a job would fill in the time she would tell herself constantly.

So, Shurui would turn her attention to books in the quiet mornings. It would not do her mind well if left to nothing, she had been accepted into one of the most prestigious law schools. She paused briefly. The thought of the letter caused a stir in her heart, as quickly as it came it left. Contempt, with the decision she made. She had to be.

This caused a sudden urge of need to be useful. She could at least use the background knowledge of accounting and business from high school even if it wasn’t paid work. A lovely thought struck her, maybe charity would be a viable option she placed the book down. Rejuvenated with possibilities she obtained the laptop and accessed the files from the cloud.

‘Revision,’ she thought and smiled widely.

                                                         X

She eyed the sliver card puzzled, “What is this?”

“It’s a start and not much,” he flushed, embarrassed maybe, “but what’s mine is yours. It’s a credit card, you have access to my account.”

“Oh, how thoughtful,” she paused, her moment for freedom perhaps, “Kageyama I am capable of paying my own way and if...”

Brows pressed into a frown he retorted, “Don’t do that.” Eyes stern with resolve, they stopped her. She took a small breath, again smiled, and nodded.

                                                       X

The restaurant was noisy and bustling with activity a rating of 5 stars on google review from most. A small but intimate set up, tables literally one metre from each other and the waiters moved through the patrons as they lifted the plates and beverages above their heads, smiling.

The big hand on the clock hit six. An hour had past and every 15 minutes she would get a refill of water. ‘No messages,’ her inbox glowed.  When the waiter approached this time she politely motioned no and collected her things.

Once outside she dialled a number only to be met with the engaged sound. A nice night for a walk, she thought. She fixed the buttons on the beige jacket to the top and made her way home only a couple blocks away. She almost pressed in the second earpiece when a shout caught her attention.

“Shurui!”

Confused at first, her eyes scanned the area until she heard the heavy pants behind her, Kageyama.

Out of breath he stood tall and placed his hands on his hip exhausted, “Sorry….” A couple more pants, “did some extra sets and lost track of the time, are you still hungry?”

Again, she smiled politely and nodded.

                                                           X

It surprised her when her mother came to visit. Shurui ran to the nearest store to purchase the exact tea her mother loved, blackberry. Not a favourite in the household but for her mother she would go the exact mile.

The tea set used was bought from a dainty opportunity shop, a collectable the teller said. It wasn’t the fact it was a collectable that caught attention it was the amazing tale of two lovers etched in a beautiful blue design that did it. She poured their third tea.

“Where is he?” her mother questioned.

Shurui took a short sip, “training. He is an Olympian, mother. Volleyball is the centre of his attention.”

“I know.”

The tone used didn’t sit well with Shurui, it made her flitch at the implication, but not enough to show. She placed her tea down, gathered her thoughts and smiled at her mother. Who dressed in all her glory, hair pinned high, lips red as a red delicious apple and eyes judgemental. She sipped her tea.

“Mother,” Shurui breathed, “Tobio Kageyama works hard for this family…” her mother cocked a brow, taken by her daughter’s sudden boldness. “And if that means he needs to spend most of his time at the arena…”

“Is that where he is, and you know for sure?”

The question caught Shurui off guard, but she understood the meaning. Her fingernails dug into her knees and briefly she her eyes closed thinking of a response, but none came.

“My love, I know the life of an absent partner. Your father, though I loved him dearly was just like Kageyama. It starts out with late replies and missed calls but eventually.”

“Mother, please,” Shurui motioned with her hand she’d had enough, dismissing her mother’s words. “I have been with him every step of the way. I know him.”

Noting the difference in the younger persons demeanour a change of topic of sorts was in order, “I see and after his performance at the Olympics he will be head hunted. I don’t doubt or pretend to not know that he is an amazing player but at what cost my dear?” The older woman waited for a response or even an inkling of a retort, but it didn’t come, “you are a smart, intelligent woman and what have you done with it? Except follow this boy around for the better half of almost four years.”

Usually Shurui would be able to hold her emotions not often did she feel anger or resentment or express them for that matter. However, the constant belittlement of their relation started to affect her naturally calm nature. A swell gripped hold of her chest, but the smile she gave hid her true feelings of growing anger. An emotion she hadn’t felt in a long time not since early high school.

“I am not following, mother. I am walking along side him there is a difference. I know in doing so that I have placed certain things out of sight and out of mind,” a scowl formed, attention turned to the woman sat opposite. “And I will continue wherever that may lead us because I, mother. Think about others.”

The tea was cold neither of the two drank during the seemingly innocent altercation and neither looked to back down.

“I haven’t seen this side of you for some time. Independent, determined, and stubborn. My qualities I thought you lost.” And with that she conceded, looked to her daughter, and smiled dryly. “I wasn’t always there for matters I shouldn’t bore you with, but you don’t know what your father was genuinely like. Nights alone with a baby wondering when he’d be back or if he’d come back. Constant lies. I hadn’t wanted to leave but at the time I thought it was best.”

“For, who.”

“You.”

A side to the story she hadn’t heard to their divorce, her parents. All other times an excuse or fabrication. This time felt true, honest. It pained her to look at her mother. A proud woman for sure but in this moment, her whole being changed, it felt like regret.

                                                           X

Months after the Olympics their lives changed considerably. It almost hurt to know her mother was right about Kageyama. The young aspiring player was indeed head hunted by multiple teams. Time was mostly spent answering demanding phones calls from managers, declining offers from no-name teams or out-right snorting at offers from companies who would pay copious amounts of money to have him. But it wasn’t about the money for him, he needed the best deal to help him stay on the court the longest. And Shurui tried best to keep her head above the water. She knew this would come.

In in a rare moment, they managed a night together away from outside influence. The house dimly lit helped by romantic candlelight spread carefully through the dining area. All electronic devices turned off, especially his.

Tonight, was a special night he told her. Dawned in a magnificent black dress that spaced and separated her breast evenly. The cup line hung low to reveal a tasteful and respectable amount of cleavage and flared down beautifully from under that point and sat above the knees. She would be lying if she did not say she was embarrassed. But Kageyama bought the dress, especially.

The look of bewilderment he gave every time their eyes met was worth it. He appeared shocked by her beauty and would avert his gaze somewhere else for a second only to find their way back.

“You look, breath taking.”

She smiled sweetly and blushed. She cooked the meals in all her magnificence. Kageyama’s heart skipped watching her. A kind woman that thought of others before herself who made sure everyone else was cared for. Kami knew, he was blessed with this creature, gods he knew he was blessed.

After dessert which was a homemade sharp lemon tart pie and vanilla ice cream, they talked about everything but volleyball which surprised her because it was a known fact that her partner loved to talk about it, always. He was being polite and courteous wanting to know the ins and out of the day she had, and she deeply appreciated it. But it was late, he had meetings in the morning. Meetings about their future.

“I should get this all cleaned up.”

Before she could rise Kageyama gripped her hand, “Wait.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled a black box. Kageyama’s hand shook as he rested in on top of the table. An overwhelming nervousness, the thought of a decline had him sweating profusely. He gulped to help moisten the dryness in his mouth. With two hands he opened the box and eyed her with anxiety.

“Will you… Will you marry me?” Forgetting he had to be on a knee he quickly fell to the ground almost losing the grip on the box. He stared up and fidgeted with his tie and nervously smoothed his tuxedo.

She giggled at his abruptness and beamed a smile, “yes, Tobio. I will.”

On his knee Kageyama, ‘yes,’ himself just like he would after an epic score. The ring a simple thing with a gorgeous opal gem slipped perfectly into place. They both stood and enjoyed a deep passionate kiss. He pressed his forehead to hers and whispered, “thank kami. I will do everything in my power to make you happy.”

“You already have.”

They stayed in each other’s company not wanting the moment to end.

#kageyama #kageyama tobio #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyu #haikyu x reader

[elysianrey]

i’ll come to thee by moonlight

(a/n: this is basically the story nobody asked for but I somehow wrote? all it takes is seeing Anne with her own two eyes for Winnifred Rose to quickly understand Gilbert’s undevoted attraction toward her. Minor spoilers related to season 3. content rated G+)

Winnifred Rose sat snuggly between a tall blonde boy, of whom she noticed dressed quite fashionably and exquisitely for someone of his age, and her dear friend, Gilbert Blythe. She glanced curiously about the luxurious garden in which they sat at, as the beautiful blooms gently swayed from the early afternoon summer breeze on the island. She suddenly startled as her attention was swiftly refocused on the dainty, soft girl raising her voice in passionate cry as she finished the end of her poem. The crowd gathered around the small platform before them clapped in admiration at her performance, and she heard a loud ‘whoop’ from a group of boys seated in the section of chairs to their right. She clapped politely along with the others from Avonlea. The small freckled girl smiled shyly from her spot on the stage and gave a curtsy bow before exiting and seating herself in the front row next to a familiar head of auburn hair.

“Next, we welcome to the stage, Miss Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. Miss Shirley-Cuthbert will be reciting The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes.”

Winnifred watched as the young woman made her way from her chair up onto the stage. To her right, she sensed Mr. Blythe shift in his seat, slowly leaning forward in anticipation. Had it not been for this fundraiser organized by the spirited Anne herself, Winnifred would not be seated where she was today. Gilbert had expressed his excitement for the fundraiser in his last letter, urging Miss Rose to attend with him in order for her to finally meet this Anne he had fondly spoken of many times in the past.

Anne gracefully took her place in the center of the flower-adorned platform and clasped her hands together in front of her chest. Gilbert’s body inched even closer to the edge of his seat as the girl dressed in a luxuriously deep blue satin dress began to speak. 

“The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees.   

The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas.   

The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,   

And the highwayman came riding—

         Riding—riding—

The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.”

All around her, eyes that were nodding in tiredness or looking elsewhere quickly became fixed on the redhead’s delivery of the famous poem. It was as if a spell were overtaking the crowd, herself included in the magic this faerie was casting over them. Winnifred could not help but glance over at the curly headed boy. Wonder and awe were written clearly on his features, yet his own eyes held a secret that he had never revealed in all the time she had known him. Gilbert was in love. No, perhaps love was too light of a word. He was smitten, captivated, and completely bewitched by Miss Shirley-Cuthbert. A hidden smile made the corners of her lips turn upward at the realization. 

As the poem drew to a close, Winnifred understood why this enchanting young woman had captured the heart of her close friend because she had been drawn into the same allure. Why Anne had no sooner breathed the final words of the poem than Gilbert was already on his feet clapping fervently with the crowd and shouting, “Encore!” The crowd seemed to follow suit and the tall blonde boy next to Winnifred joined in Gilbert’s pleas for more from Anne. Miss Rose saw the redhead glance purposefully in their direction as she beamed and bowed for those cheering at her magnificent delivery. The color creeping up her cheeks began to match that of her hair as Gilbert whistled and smiled so widely his dimples dotted his cheeks. 

After an encore performance from Anne, the poetry reading ended and those attending the fundraiser dispersed and headed toward the refreshments located in another section of the majestic garden. Winnifred trailed behind Gilbert and the tall boy who had been sitting beside her, of whom she learned was also a friend of Anne’s, named Cole. They found Miss Shirley-Cuthbert surrounded by an entourage of men, women, and children alike, complimenting and commenting on the zeal they had experienced from her performance. Waiting patiently as she graciously accepted and thanked their praises, she suddenly came bounding over to them, smiling eagerly and laughing happily.

 She threw her arms around Cole first and he spun her around once before placing her firmly back on the ground. “Oh Anne!” he exclaimed proudly, taking her hand in his own.

Miss Rose observed the interaction between the pair rather quizzically and stole another glance at Gilbert, who did not appear taken back by the gesture.

“You were simply marvelous! The way you proclaimed the last stanza nearly had me in tears!” Cole clutched at his heart for added dramatic effect and Anne nearly doubled over in laughter.

 “We have both come a long way since our days imagining up all kinds of stories in my room at Green Gables, have we not?” Anne stated, catching her breath, and turning away from Cole to Gilbert and Winnifred.

 Winnifred watched as Gilbert opened his mouth and his hand began to gesture in her direction when Anne abruptly cut him short by enveloping him in a tight hug. He appeared taken back as he nearly lost his balance, but his arms soon found their way around her petite waist.

 “Thank you for coming!” she cried as they broke apart. “Really and truly, Gilbert. I daresay I might not have been on that stage if it had not been for your dear companionship after school these past weeks.”

 Gilbert looked down at the ground, flustered at the unexpected recognition from Anne, a blush crawling up his neck from beneath his collar. “You were remarkable, Anne. I was only an outlet for your creativity and talent,” he said fondly, his eyes meeting hers as the two shared a moment in which Winnifred felt like she was intruding upon.

 Anne was the first to break the trance by turning to Winnifred and taking both of her hands in her own. “You must be Miss Rose. I was so pleased to hear that you were attending the fundraiser. I hope you have enjoyed Avonlea. Before you leave, I simply must show you The Lake of Shining Waters. It would be a shame to miss such a glorious sight at this time of the year,” said Anne with nearly as much fervor as the poem she had just recited.

 Taken aback slightly by her enthusiasm, Winnifred returned the offer with a genuine smile herself and squeezed the redhead girl’s hands, declaring, “How could I pass up such a lovely proposal for adventure, Miss Shirley-Cuthbert? Perhaps while we are there, you could read another poem? I do not think I can take another conversation about the latest medical practice from Mr. Blythe.” She shot Gilbert a teasing look and he shrugged in return.

 Winnifred feared Anne was going to burst from elation—quite literally—after hearing her proposal and the redhead squealed delightedly. “Yes of course! I—”

 However, before she could finish her next thought, she was being ushered away by a short, stout, grey haired woman who had been calling her name and informed her that she must meet one of the biggest donors of the fundraiser. Anne turned and waved, mouthing ‘Good-bye’ to the three of them as she disappeared in the flock of people.

 “I think I know where your passion lies, Gilbert,” she smirked as he stared after the satin outline of the girl. He turned, giving her a puzzled look and she continued. “Oh please, dear friend. You may deny it until you are blue in the face, but your eyes tell me all that I need to know. Perhaps anyone for that matter. You mustn’t let someone like her slip away from you. She’s a rarity in this big world.” Winnifred would know, seeing as she had met many people from all kinds of places thus far in her short lifetime.

 Gilbert stood there, his brow furrowed after listening to her words, his brain making an obvious effort to understand everything she had spoken to him. Then, it was as if a new dawning had just occurred to him, and the lines in his forehead smoothed. He put his hand lightly on her shoulder and uttered a ‘Thank-you’ before turning on his heel to go find the auburn-haired girl she assumed.

 She stood there, arms crossed, feeling rather smug with herself for helping a friend in need. Perhaps one day, she would find an equal partner in life like Gilbert with Anne, but for now, she was content in experiencing more that this world had to offer. She was awakened from her reverie when Cole, who she had nearly forgotten was still standing beside her, spoke.

 “I think you and I are going to be good friends,” he said with a glint in his eye that said, ‘I have been telling them the same thing for years.’ Miss Rose grinned up at him and accepted the gentlemanly arm he extended.

“Shall we drink to prosperity or continued foolishness?” she questioned as they arrived at the beverage table, handing him a glass of punch and taking one of her own. 

“Both!” he chuckled, as they clinked glasses and each took sips of the sweet, orange liquid.

Winnifred would later learn that his toast would reign remarkably true.

#anne with an e #awae #shirbert #shirtbert ff #anne shirley cuthbert #gilbert blythe #anne x gilbert #awae season 3 #cole mackenzie #winnifred rose #ellie writes #i feel like there is a lot of potential for winnie in this show #and she would definitely get upon the shirbert ship with cole #and eventually diana would be apart of this too

[somedayonbroadway]

The Resistance Chapter 1

The Journalist 

A/N: Heyyyyyyyyy... So... it’s been a while. Heads up, this is dark. It’s a dystopian story. Warnings for blood and death... but ya know... enjoy?

“Stars fading, but I linger on, Dear, still craving your kiss…”

Three voices. A perfect blend.

“I’m longing to linger till dawn, Dear, just saying this…”

One guitar. One piano.

Five parts. One song.

“Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you… keep dreaming, leave your worries far behind you… but in your dreams, wherever they be… dream a little dream of me…”

It was beautiful.

Three voices. One guitar. One piano.

Five parts.

One song.

It was beautiful.

Of course it was beautiful. It was light and airy and upbeat and perfect.

Beautiful.

It had to be beautiful. If it wasn’t beautiful, it wasn’t perfect. If it wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t good enough.

The chords rang out at the end of their song, finishing the soft lullaby. There was a moment. A moment where everything went still. The world stopped. Time froze and the universe stilled. It was only a single moment. Everyone breathed in at the same time. Everyone moved in unison. Everyone connected for just this moment.

And then that moment ended.

The crowd cheered, as is what was expected of them. The performance was perfect. The small dinner theatre was dimmed and full of people just looking for a small escape from the world. And they were in heaven.

They began to stand. The crowd. But someone sat behind the others. Waiting. Planning. Preparing. That was important.

To wait.

To plan.

To prepare.

Steady.

Stay low.

Breathe.

Look.

Now run.

The door was there. Just there. Right within reach.

“Katherine!”

Damn it.

“There she is!”

Maybe she could pretend. Keep moving. Don’t turn back.

“Katherine!”

God dammit.

“Darling! That is you!”

The young woman in question stopped just short of the door, knowing they’d caught up to her. Knowing there was no running now. So, before she could even take the time to prepare, take a moment to get it together, there was a hand on her arm.

She was spun around quick. So she plastered a smile on her face and forced herself to stand still.

And then three girls were surrounding her. “What did you think of the show?!”

“We’re so happy you came!”

Sighing and holding her notebook close to her chest, Katherine nodded. “It was lovely, girls. Truly beautiful.” It may be true, but that didn’t make her want to say it anymore.

These three women did not need a boost of ego.

They were tall, long legged and beautiful. The perfect chorus girls. Anything less than perfect was unacceptable. “Do you need a picture of us for the section?” one of them asked too easily. Katherine was too unfocused to remember the name of which one.

Or any of them.

“No, thank you! I got plenty of you guys up there,” she laughed off quickly, doing what she could to be polite.

“Ladies, let the woman breathe!” Cut in another voice, happy and cheerful and understanding and it made Katherine’s heart melt. “Go on, get changed! Shoo! Ya’ll got a show tomorrow!”

The three girls gave her one last tight smile before they turned around and ran back behind the curtain. And Katherine couldn’t help but laugh. “Thank you, Miss Medda!” she sighed.

The short, plump, chocolate skinned, wonderful woman flashed her one of her famous smiles. And then she opened her arms up. “Of course, honey! I’m assumin’ you wanna get downtown real soon,” she said knowingly. “But not without a good hug.”

Grinning, Katherine embraced the woman. “It was a good show, Miss Medda. You’re still the best,” she assured. She pulled away.

Miss Medda nodded. “But it’s still the theatre. N’ you wanna be downtown…” It wasn’t a guess. It was fact. “Did Hearst give you another Cinderella proposal?” the beautiful woman questioned, giving Katherine a look that told her already. She knew what was going on.

Miss Medda always did.

Letting out a single, bitter laugh, Katherine nodded. “If the show ended early and I could make a run over there, I could cover the protest happening downtown today!” she rushed out, knowing exactly what Medda meant.

A Cinderella proposal. If Katherine did what her boss wanted, she could do what she wanted. Only, she wouldn’t have time to actually get there.

“Well why’re you still standin’ here, honey? What’s it about this time?”

If there was one good thing about Katherine’s job, it was this woman standing before her. This woman was fierce and strong and while she could rarely attend the many rallies, marches and riots that were happening all over the city, she made it a point to support them. Financially. Lord knows this woman had money. And if ever there was a chance, she would make sure Katherine could cover them. She believed in Katherine.

Biting her lip, Katherine shrugged. “There’s a company that someone very powerful owns that has been taking jobs away from hardworking people with families to take care of for… less than legitimate reasons,” she explained, doing her best to not get too worked up about this right here.

“It’s okay, Katherine. You can speak your mind. You’re with Medda,” she assured, placing a hand on the young woman’s shoulder.

Shrugging just a bit, Katherine nodded. “These assholes thought it was okay to fire every woman on staff, three black men and one Asian American man,” she admitted, feeling her heartbeat a little faster and stronger than before. She ran a hand through her hair. “My boss thinks it’s not news. My boss’s son told me he’d kill me if I didn’t get the story. I told myself I had to get there… just to see it happening,” she stated. She shook her head. “What is this world coming to, Miss Medda?”

With a knowing laugh, Miss Medda shrugged. “Worry about New York first, honey… then we can help the rest of the world,” she promised, cupping a hand over Katherine’s cheek. There was this look in her eyes. One that the young reporter could almost identify as a sort of sadness. But before she could ask what was wrong, Miss Medda was pulling away. “Now what are you still doin’ here, young lady? We need ta get you downtown!”

“Oh! Not without a photo of the brilliant director, we don’t!” Katherine laughed, pulling her camera back out of her bag.

Medda waved her hands as if to say that this wasn’t necessary. But she laughed nonetheless and placed her hands on her hips, giving Katherine her perfect grin and letting the camera flash, capturing her and the theatre behind her. “Thank you, Miss Medda…” Katherine smiled. Then she lowered her small device. “Now we have to get me downtown.”

“Well then let’s go you out to Kenny… he’ll get you through the crowd and find you some good picture spots,” Medda stated, walking past her and motioning for her to follow.

Katherine grinned.

--------------------------------------------------

It was chaos.

This is the kind of thing that Katherine lived for.

The sun had set long ago. All that was left to light up the loud, chaotic protest were the dim street lights and flashlights of cellphones of those who wished to make their presence known. As if the screamers couldn’t be heard and the blood red signs couldn’t already be seen. Hundreds of people gathered around to witness this. This was more than just a rally. It was something much, much bigger. Something powerful and full of life. Something that made men sitting safe in their towers high above the lowly streets of New York look down with fear in their eyes and in their hearts, wondering if they would still have their money tomorrow.

Because this street was shut down with people. And Katherine was right in the center of it.

There was a woman standing on a folding table just a ways away from the young journalist. She was by no means tall. Her hair was green, fading out from her brunette roots. She had a piercing in her nose. Her skin was carmel colored. She wore a denim, knee length dress. In one hand, she held a sign. I am human, it read, in bold black letters. Katherine lifted up her camera and snapped a picture of her, watching intently as the bullhorn was brought up to her lips. “Louder!” the woman cried. Somehow the crowd complied to her simple request. “We will not stand by and let them tear us down! We have will! We have guts! And we have rights!” It was a simple statement. True, but simple.

The people around her ate it up.

“For centuries, rich white men have had all the power! Who decided that was the way the world worked?!” the woman asked.

Rolling her eyes a bit, Katherine snorted a bit. Rich, white men… she mused silently. Bitterly

“They tell us where our place is and try to force us to listen! Not anymore!”

It was beautiful. A whole people, standing together. People who seemed more than anything to want the same things. Freedom. Rights that had been promised to them for centuries. Equal work. Equal pay. Equal rights. The world had strived for it before. This country had strived for it before. Now… now this country was wandering aimlessly backwards down a path so many hardworking people had broken their backs trying to fight their way forward through. Like all of those people, all of those important people who were brave enough to have their own opinions, their own voice, had never existed to begin with.

The young woman took a few steps closer to the table where the woman stood, too enthralled for her own good. Someone pushed into her. She didn’t speak, just let them move around her forcefully until she could take another step. Her fingers wrapped around her camera again. She snapped a picture.

The woman on the stage looked down at the flash. Katherine froze, thinking perhaps she’d be chewed out for taking a photo without permission. It wouldn’t be the first time. But the speaker simply gave her a wink.

All of them should have known this part couldn’t last forever. This part of standing strong, together. This part of being one and being free and knowing that the world might realize what was being done was wrong.

It couldn’t last forever. It didn’t.

Sirens. A lot of sirens. That is what Katherine could hear.

“Don’t let them scare you!” the woman on the makeshift stage warned. Katherine sensed just what she had. Unease. Everyone was scared.

Everyone here knew their history.

“We have a right to freedom of speech!” she shouted, more at the people rushing towards the crowd than at the crowd itself. Katherine couldn’t see them. There were so many people. So many signs.

The woman on stage took a single step back. They were still coming. The speaker let her bullhorn drop down at her side as the part of a group just ahead of Katherine started shouting again. Many others followed suit.

“Get outta here!”

“We’re not hurting anyone!”

“We want our jobs back!”

“Get out of my face!”

“Back off!”

Maybe it would be in the history books someday. Fired employees start a strike, create a riot and start a movement.

The Great Riot of 2095. Where the first shots were fired.

People screamed. Katherine gasped.

“No!”

“Leave us alone!”

Another shot.

People started running. Katherine couldn’t move.

“We don’t have weapons!” the woman on stage cried, hoping to stop anything worse from happening. Katherine breathed hard as everyone around her scattered. There were two people on the ground. One man, one woman. The man wasn’t moving. Blood pooled around his head. The woman was screaming. Someone else kneeled beside her, holding her hand, promising it would be okay.

There were people. People she had assumed to be officers, just standing there with weapons in their hands, looking around as if this had no affect on them. But these people were not officers. These people — these men — wore white uniforms. Protective gear was all over them; vests, helmets, padded clothing. All of it was white.

Katherine went to back away. She prepped to run. But someone jumped down beside her and grabbed for her camera, immediately taking a shot of the gruesome sight. She gasped and turned to the person, just as these strange men turned to look for where the flash had come from. It was the carmel skinned woman. She was looking up at her with a fierce look in her deep brown eyes. “Write something, reporter. And write it good.”

That was all she left Katherine with before the bullhorn was back up at her lips. She was walking forward. “Who sent you?! Who are you?! We have every right ta-”

Another shot.

There was blood on her face. Katherine screamed, ready to rush forward to try to help the young woman who fell to the ground. But it was too late.

So Katherine took a step back as the men looked up at her, in the midst of the people still fleeing around her. And she snapped another shot.

They zeroed in on her, raising their weapons. “Stop right there!”

She shook her head, taking a single step backwards.

One of them squeezed for the trigger.

She braced herself. The pain was coming. She knew it was.

Click.

Without a second to think, Katherine turned and did her best to blend with the crowd.

Steady… she told herself silently.

Stay low… someone almost knocked her over as she jogged along with the people, trying to get away from these mysterious men.

Breathe… It was almost impossible. With those images in her head, she didn’t want to.

Look… She did. For an escape. Any kind of escape.

She found one.

Now run!

And off she went, into a night in New York City, one of the brightest cities in the world, that had just gotten a whole lot darker.

-----------------------------------------------------------

The ceiling was white.

The walls were white.

The bed was white.

Her dress was white.

“Sophia!”

She sat up quick, knowing better than to continue to lay there motionless. She was dizzy. She hadn’t moved in a long time. She hadn’t wanted to.

“Yes, dear?” she asked quietly, forcing a small smile onto her face as the door swung open.

“I haven’t seen you all day… what have you been up to?”

He was tall. His hair was just hardly turning silver. He was older than her. Much older than her. He was rich.

That was what had mattered.

“I’ve just been… thinking,” she sighed innocently, trying not to sound smart or smug or annoyed. Lord knows what would happen then.

The man nodded at her. “I expect you downstairs within the hour.”

It was a calm demand. But it still made Katherine’s skin crawl. “Yes, dear…” she forced out kindly, nodding as he looked her up and down skeptically for a moment, as if he knew she was hiding something. Still, he didn’t press any further. And he walked away.

Katherine scrunched up her nose in disgust and anger as he went. She shook her head as he shut the door and then she lay back down on her bed.

Everything was white.

Slowly and without much thought, the young woman brought her hands up above her eyes. Her palms faced the bland ceiling above her. They were bare. Well, almost.

But the ring around her left finger certainly felt like nothing to her.

Tearing the thing of, she fought the urge it throw it full force out her singular bedroom window. She couldn’t do that. Not again.

She inspected it again, a simple gold band meaning she was bound to someone.

She should have run when she’d had the chance. She should have done something.

Anywhere might have been better than this.

Taking in a deep breath and sitting up once again, the young woman set the thing down on a table at the bedside. She looked away from it as quickly as she could and then she stood to her feet. There was a small closet to her right. She walked towards it, glancing over towards the door, just to be sure no one else would be coming to disturb her again. And then she knelt down.

One, two, three, four, five, six from the left.

The floorboard was loose. She’d made sure of it.

Lifting the thing up and cringing at the small squeak it made, Katherine reached down, only for her fingers to brush against small, rough old pieces of paper. Her heart gripped tightly in her chest. She pulled one from its hiding space and let herself continue to think.

To remember.

It was old. But she could still read it.

August 27th, 2095

Riot Breaks Out In Lower Manhattan

Two killed, thirteen injured.

Her eyes wandered down to the byline. Her heart drooped a little more downwards in her chest as she remembered.

As the moments replayed over and over again in her mind.

Katherine Plumber

The first shots. The beginning of a war. And she had been right there to witness it all happen just before her.

Breathe… she told herself silently. Just breathe…

The world was spinning backwards.

It had been for years.

And here she was, still resisting it with all the strength that she had left.

The world may have thought the war was over.

But it had only just begun.

Katherine held that article tenderly in her hands and ran her thumb over her own name over and over again, trying to remind herself that that was real, that it had happened.

She didn’t cry. She hadn’t cried in a long time. What she did was mourn. What she did was wait. What she did was plan.

What she did was prepare.

What she did was let a soft melody leave her lips as a bitter, sad smile crept sneakily onto her beautiful features. A song that transported her to the past for just a fleeting moment.

“Dream a little dream of me…”

Three voices. One guitar. One piano. Five parts.

One song.

----------------------------------------

Tag List: (lemme know if you’d like to be included or not included next time!)

@that-thing-in-the-closet 

@deadthingsinlace

@albert-eats-cookie-cake

@myheartissetinmotion

@and-i-lostmy-shoe

@thatnerdinthecorner

@happyhufflepuff73

@thatchaoticneutraltrainwreck

@bluejay-the-newsie

@addyez

@falling-out-trees-101

As always, thanks for reading! Make sure to tell me what you liked, what you didn't like, what you’d change or what you’d improve by leaving a comment! Thanks friends!

#newsies #the resistance #Katherine Plumber #David Jacobs #jack kelly #racetrack higgins #crutchie morris #medda larkin #riots #tw blood #tw death #minor character death #dystopia #kenny #sexism #racism #dark #reporter #jouralist #william randolph hearst #bill hearst #fanfiction #newsies fanfiction #newsies live #newsies musical

[angstmongertina]

One More Sleep

Title taken from the song by Leona Lewis of the same name.

Hey, @line-artsy-draws, here’s your Secret Santa gift! Thanks for your patience in answering all of my questions! I hope it’s in character for Helena and that you like it! :)

Edit because I forgot to mention: I am not an alpha backer and therefore hand-waved everything between the end of the extended demo and when this takes place, several months after the Summit ends.

Of the many concepts that Princess Helena had learned about the kingdom of Jiyel in her lessons, its culture and society featured heavily, particularly in the ways that differed from her home. After all, neighboring kingdoms though they might have been, they shared no small number of disagreements, from everything as fundamental as their beliefs to who could make a better cup of tea.

One of the most notable was the difference in religion, or lack thereof. Their duty came from the veneration of their elders, from the emphasis that the Crown placed on education and talent. Focused as they were on knowledge and the logical, they believed in no God, lacked the holidays celebrating His glory.

Lacked Christmas.

Oh, it was true that the holiday’s service was always long and incredibly dull, with what seemed like the endless number of prayers and sermons, not to mention the eyes of the entire kingdom watching her for proper behavior, comparing her to Constance. She knew that, knew she was expected to be dutiful and pious and proper, but…

But the hymns and carols were gentle and beautiful, performed by the best singers in the kingdom. Her mother’s soft alto would join in, quietly harmonizing with Father’s rich baritone and Constance’s sweet soprano. Even after her sister left for the Summit and then her new life as the Crown Princess of Corval, she thought she could still hear Constance’s voice during the services, as if echoing from a memory.

And afterwards… Afterwards, they would gather for more personal celebrations. Mother would sit between them, weaving tales like she used to when they were young, elegant hands painting pictures as vividly as her art tutor’s brushes would. Presents filled her room, stacks of novels and jewelry and other little things that were not necessary, not appropriate, for dutiful young princesses but could, on this day of His son’s birth, be indulged. Even Father would put aside his work, taking a few hours from his busy life being a proper leader of Arland to be simply a father, kind and thoughtful and funny in ways that she was not accustomed to seeing, but treasured with every fiber of her being.

Those traditions, those moments of escape from being the proper second princess of Arland, were perhaps more foreign to Jiyel, were harder to explain, than all of the other traditions combined. The warmth and the cheer and the love… Those couldn’t be found in books, in studies of Arlish religion and traditions.

Of course, from childhood, she knew that she would be sent to the Summit, that she would leave the traditions and customs of her youth behind, that she would travel to whatever kingdom would provide the best match for Arland. But to know was different than to experience, and as fall slowly morphed into winter at her new home in Jiyel, she couldn’t help but find herself thinking of the past.

Lyon, as quick and observant as he was, caught on without any comment on her part, though if she were to be perfectly honest with herself, anyone who had been paying attention likely would have, given her preoccupation. And her beloved—even just the thought of that was enough to make her heart leap in her chest—was certainly more than attentive to her every possible desire, as though returning to the privacy of his estate also granted him the privacy to express himself.

He brought it up much the same way he did most things, plain and direct, his eyes full of the emotion that the rest of the world somehow missed, warm and thoughtful and caring, so very deeply caring. In it, she could sense his gentleness, his sincerity, his desire to do whatever she wished to feel comfortable.

But it was not something she could put into words, her sudden painful longing for company and warmth and love of the kind that her family’s Arlish Christmases brought, that nostalgia for years past. And so, she could only smile, a pleasant, polite quirk of the lips, and elude the question with promises of books on the subject before changing the topic to something more innocuous, safer for herself and her suddenly tenuous control over her emotions.

She did not notice the knowing look in his eyes, nor the way he disappeared to his study a short while later, every movement and expression full of determination.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The day that, at least in Arland, would be called Christmas dawned over her new home in soft silver and powdery white. As if remembering the years long past, she awoke early, before the sun had fully cleared the tree line. Beside her, Lyon slumbered on, no doubt exhausted from his retiring sometime after she had already fallen asleep. For a moment, she studied his face, peaceful and still, warm affection flooding her chest, before the Siren song of Christmas became too hard to resist and she slid carefully out from under the covers, making her way to the window.

Outside, the landscape was muted and calm, fat snowflakes filling the air, covering the trees and grass in beautiful white. The grounds were untouched, pristine, and she stared out into the grounds, nearly pressing her face against the thick glass.

If she squinted, she could almost picture two young girls from her distant memory, heavy shawls and thick scarves wrapped around immaculate hairstyles and expensive dresses, both to keep warm and to disguise, giggling and dancing among the falling flakes. How long had it been since her carefree days with Constance, since she had felt the cold breeze on her cheeks, seen the gasping laughs of stolen freedom from lessons and etiquette and formality?

She wondered what her neighbors and servants, and perhaps more importantly, her husband, would think if they saw her rushing outside into the frigid air right then and there with no regard for her position or propriety.

As if drawn by her thoughts, she shivered, the chill of the room finally seeping into her awareness and the realization that she wore only her nightgown. She shook her head, mentally scolding herself in a voice that sounded strangely similar to her old nurse’s, and turned…

Only to be greeted by a thick blanket wrapping around her shoulders and the fondly amused gaze of her beloved.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning!” She blinked, torn between concern and joy at his strangely normal hour, though joy won out and she beamed at him. “You’re up early.”

“Am I?” Something resembling mischief flashed across his face, so quickly that she might have imagined it. Instead, he squinted vaguely outside before scowling, though she couldn’t be sure if it was due to the early hour or the lack of his usual spectacles. “I suppose I am. Though perhaps not up too early, if you already are. Besides,” and there, there was that glint of mischief again, “that is the custom, is it not? For Christmas?”

She found herself blinking again, long enough that he raised an eyebrow at her.

“Yes?”

“But… But I thought you don’t celebrate Christmas in Jiyel.”

He shrugged, looking for all the world as though he was telling her that the sun rose in the east or that the sky was blue. Or, at least he would have if not for the slight tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Jiyel doesn’t. But you do.”

“Oh!” She drew a deep breath, tilting her head back to meet his bright gaze, and, unable to resist the urge, stretched up to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “So what now? There isn’t any church to visit for the Christmas service.”

At that, the slight quirk of his lips blossomed into a full smirk. “As of this morning, that may no longer be the case. In fact…” He glanced out the window again, as though checking the time. “If we hurry, we might have time to see it before the guests arrive.”

When his words filtered into her consciousness, she froze, halfway to the dressing room. “What?”

He actually laughed. “Guests. Your mother and brother should arrive later this morning, though your father was unable to leave Arland and sends his regrets. I believe Princess Constance’s departure was somewhat delayed, but she, with Prince Zarad accompanying her, should be here tonight. Prince Lisle and Princess Penelope should also arrive this evening, along with Princess Cordelia.”

After a moment of silence, he paused, worry flickering across his face, and the sight of him bending down to reach her eye-level was almost enough to make her giggle. “Helena? Are you all right?”

She smiled, brushing the wetness off of her cheeks as subtly as she could. “I’m fine. Wonderful, even. Though…” She paused, tapping her chin as though deep in thought. “I’d be better if we were outside.”

He chuckled. “Naturally.”

It wasn’t until they were warmly dressed and making their way across the snow-covered grounds, her arm looped firmly around his, that she brought it up again, her voice almost muffled by the scarf around her face.

“So… my family except for Father, Prince Zarad, Princess Penelope, Prince Lisle, and Princess Cordelia. Is that everyone coming?”

“I believe Princess Cordelia mentioned attempting to reach Lord Clarmont as well, though when last she wrote, she was not certain whether the weather would cooperate.”

“That is quite a crowd.” She hesitated as they passed over a rougher patch and felt his hold tighten in careful support. “How long did it take to plan?”

A faint frown, of concentration rather than displeasure, crossed his face. “Perhaps a few months? It took some time, with the construction and especially the letters.”

“But you dislike crowds.”

“But it makes you happy.” Her breath hitched as he stepped closer, a gloved hand reaching to cup her cheek. “Merry Christmas, Helena.”

With the gently falling snow around them, his soft smile was the most tender thing she had ever seen and she leaned in, stopping a hairsbreadth away. “Merry Christmas, Lyon.”

#7KPP #seven kingdoms the princess problem #Duke Lyon #Duke Lyon/Arland princess #7kpp secret santa 2019 #Tina writes stuff. #Tina plays 7KPP.

[oveliagirlhaditright]

Swallow - A Dark Kairi/SoKai/KHIV Story Chapter Three

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21456412/chapters/51131662

Summary: My idea for a Kingdom Hearts IV--that will eventually have all that entails, like Shibuya and Verum Rex and Sora's PoV--but that deals with the idea of a dark Kairi after everything she's been through, because this girl deserves to be allowed to feel things.

Author’s Note: So, Re:Mind came out since I last updated this. And, sad to say, it’s not canon to this story… because the idea that Kairi didn’t get to spend much time with Sora at all—or get a chance to prove herself in the Keyblade War in her eyes—is part of why she’s so messed up here. But the rest of KHIII and its ending is canon to this, as is all our theories about where the series is going next. And to be clear… though this is a “dark Kairi” story… so far, at least (I might change my mind about this later. IDK) she’s not literally getting darkness within her heart—as she’s a Princess of Heart, and that shouldn’t be impossible—she’s just moreso experiencing the emotions that usually lead to darkness, but don’t with her because of her unique makeup. Also, last chapter Kairi had no idea that who she met was the Master of Masters—or even who the Master of Masters is—but since then, she’s figured it out. And I've only edited this massive chapter once (oops), so if there are any weird mistakes... that's why. Sorry Magic in the Midst Kairi’s PoV “Kairi, I was too hard on you,” Riku began, as he found her in what was still her favorite place somehow: the paopu tree. “I never should’ve said what I did. Especially when losing Sora’s been so… hard. “I know- I know you were just thinking of the greater good. I would have killed Ansem, I mean…” Except that Riku was being way too hard on himself here, and Kairi knew it. But since she didn’t exactly want to give up her newfound strength yet—and admitting that Riku had actually been right about her would make her have to do it—she selfishly didn’t correct him. Instead, she decided to focus on what really mattered—as she scooted closer to Riku, so he’d be able to hear her perfectly as she said this. “Master Yen Sid thinks he may have a new idea for where Sora may be. Another world that we haven’t been to yet… But Riku, I’m scared. The Master of Masters said that every world I’d go to on an upcoming adventure would be tied to my- my anger. And first off, I don’t know if I’m ready to face that worst part of myself. But it also makes me think that we won’t find Sora at all. Because how could he, of all people, ever be in a place connected to that?” Riku smiled at Kairi sympathetically, as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder… which was probably the only thing even remotely keeping her connected to the World at this point. Seeing this nice side of Riku again—from before he’d become obsessed with seeing the outside world and had lost himself some (huh. If thatdidn’t sound familiar right now)… that- that had been the Riku she’d had a crush on even before Sora. But as it was—as nice as this was—Kairi would never love another besides Sora. And having another guy touch her now, almost felt like a betrayal to him, even though she also knew it was really, really stupid to think that way—because of course her best friend should be allowed to try and comfort her… even if she didn’t at all deserve it. “Kairi, I’m not going to lie… when I was told, in Castle Oblivion, that I would only see beings of darkness—and places tied to my own darkness—I probably felt exactly what you’re feeling now, or close to. But as Sora would probably say…  there’s always a light at the end of the tunnel. I definitely found my own there, in learning how to use light and darkness back to back. So you- you gotta believe the same about yourself. “Especially since I know something you don’t. It would seem this so called ‘Master’ was wrong. Master Yen Sid told me that the world of ‘Andalasia New York’ is a happy one. And that the reason he thinks Sora is there, is because… Sora’s already left wherever we were first sensed him, and now Yen Sid thinks Sora will be going only to joyful worlds: because- because he thinks he’s more likely to find you in those, and because he wants to show you those kinds of things himself… We’re going to find Sora, Kairi. Believe in that.” And Riku came over to Kairi and put a flower behind her ear like he had done when they were kids, and Kairi leaned into his touch and allowed herself to believe there could be a good future… for just a moment. … Master Yen Sid ended up being absolutely right that the next world she would go to would be a wonderful one. Kairi landed on the planet the moment that a giant singalong was about to take place—though she hadn’t known that at the time, of course—and she saw her charge, Giselle (that she would learn the name of later) right away, based on the way she was dressed and how she soon started singing. Basically? It wasn’t hard for Kairi to spot another Princess of Heart like herself, and how she prayed that this woman would end up leading her to Sora as she tried to help her! But since this world was so glorious—with bright colors everywhere, sunny colors, sweet people, and more delicious food than Kairi had ever been able to dream of—she had no idea why an acidic apple came flying towards both Giselle and a man on a bicycle. Only the Princess’ great reflexes with the Keyblade kept both of them safe… and the apples even began to try and burn through Destiny’s Embrace and shatter them the way Riku’s Way to the Dawn had. But Kairi uttered a quick “curaga” on her blade and was thankfully able to save it in time. But Kairi did not make Giselle and Robert’s (she’d learn his name later, too) acquaintance right away. No. She lost track of them in the massive throng of people, and instead ended up in a diner—at first just thinking she’d order something to eat and figure out her options then—when she saw what had to be the Princess’ prince based on what he was wearing, and the way he looked into the distance hopefully: the way that Kairi had often seen Sora look right before they were reunited again. “I will find Giselle, Nathaniel. This hard world will not deter me!” “As it shouldn’t, sire,” the man who Kairi could only assume was “Nathaniel” answered back to his prince before scurrying away somewhat suspiciously, but Kairi didn’t give it much mind. Instead, she went to sit beside the sweet—and somewhat clueless, it would seem—prince, who reminded Kairi a bit of her Sora, if she was being honest. She reached her hand out to shake the man’s hand and said with start of a smile, “Hello there. My name is Kairi… and I think I may have seen the woman you’re looking for. And I think I could find her for you, if I really tried.” “Could you really, kind lady?!” And the prince was on his feet at once, before then kneeling and then kissing Kairi’s hand—something that made her feel guilty like Riku hugging her had, but she tried to force the feeling down—“Oh, you doing that would be worth more than all the money in all the lands. What can I do to make your search up to you? Just name it, and it’s yours.” Normally, Kairi would have told this prince—Edward, he was whispering his name to her now—that that wasn’t necessary. That she only wanted to help because it was in her heart to do so… but Kairi also couldn’t help feeling this was her chance and lead to Sora, perhaps! Sora had always aided others in the worlds on their quests, that would then take him further in his own, right? Maybe the same thing was happening here. Perhaps Edward was meant to find Sora for her, and she’d find Giselle for him. “I- I’m looking for a lost love, too. A ‘Sora’. And if you happen to see him, and could just let me know, I’d appreciate it.” And having found a camaraderie with each other, the two began telling each other stories about their beloved. Prince Edward told Kairi that Giselle had the most beautiful singing voice he’d ever heard—and the sweetest heart… And Kairi told him about some of her and Sora’s more childish moments: of when Kairi was sad that she had swallowed her tooth, and was worried the Tooth Fairy wouldn’t give her a dollar because of it, and Sora had then pulled out his own falling tooth via a door, and given it to her. But also of their older times together, too: of how, oddly enough, Kairi had felt more butterflies when Sora’s fingers had just brushed against hers when she’d given him Mickey’s letter, than when he’d given her her lucky charm back slightly before that… and how that had just kept growing and growing. The two of them—totally lost in their love for others… and not even realizing people had gathered around them to listen to their “fantastical narratives”—probably would have continued on there, if Kairi hadn’t started hearing an ominous voice in her head… coming from the kitchen, it sounded like, and talking about killing someone? If she’d heard them correctly?! And if she hadn’t started feeling darkness in that exact moment… that she know wasn’t coming from Prince Edward, but where, then? “I- I’ve got to get out of here,” Kairi whispered, hating herself that she was leaving early through this cute chipmunk’s—who’d just shown up on the scene’s—attempts to tell them something about Giselle. “I- I promise I’ll find your Giselle for you… but if I don’t leave right now, I’m going to do something stupid.” Like find this caster of darkness and sell my soul to them—or it—in order to find Sora. And as Kairi pushed her way out the door, she heard this voice in her head: 'Oh, little princess—much like Giselle here—you have no idea who you’re dealing with, or even what you’ve begun for yourself, do you?

… It must have been Kairi’s day to go to restaurants—despite the fact that she was seasoned Keyblade wielder, who should have been out on the streets fighting Heartless… wasn’t that what she’d wanted and what the worlds usually seemed to want?—because after a lot of searching; and not before she fought a Heartless version of herself, that some mysterious force had made who had kept taunting her about her stupidity—Kairi found herself going to a pizzeria just for a bite to eat, since she was getting famished. And who should she find there but the very princess she was looking for? Kairi saw Giselle with the man from earlier and an adorable little girl, that made Kairi think that if she ever found Sora… she did want to have kids with him one day. Kairi walked over to Giselle—not even worrying about ordering food at the moment—and prepared to tell her the good news about her prince Edward… but had to pause when she heard Giselle seeming to insinuate that she was on a date with this man—and almost seeming to be excited about it—before he hastily corrected her? Perhaps? Kairi was about to turn around then, thinking that maybe this woman wasn’t Giselle, after all, or to maybe ask Prince Edward if he was maybe confused about their relationship to each other if this was Giselle, when the orange-haired-girl saw Kairi and stopped her. “Uhh? Excuse me? Miss?” and Kairi could only assume that Giselle was talking to her, since—other than Giselle—she was the only woman in this place, as the rest of the restaurant seemed to have been rented out for some father and son bonding, if the signs were anything to go off of. “I believe I saw you out and about in New York today. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw you sending a flying apple from out of our way. And I’d like to thank you. What a strong and kind heart you must have, to do such a thing.” “What?” asked the dashing man beside Giselle—who, if Kairi was being honest, was probably closed to what her idea of “tall, dark, and handsome” had been when she was young. “Giselle, there were thousands of people out and about today. You can’t really be sure that-“ “It was no problem,” Kairi was already answering, though, before those doubtful words had even caught up with her. “Protecting people is sort of what I do. I was happy to help,” …But if only she’d been good at helping people when Sora had disappeared—and been conscious, in order to stop him from senselessly sacrificing himself for her—but- it was probably best to not dwell on that now (even if she wanted to); these strangers didn’t need to know all about her woes. No, she would smile for them and pretend everything was alright, instead. Wasn’t that how she always was with strangers now? It was only around her friends, that she showed how broken she was… but then when she did, she had to even wonder if that was a good thing to do. Because Riku had been hating on her some for it, hadn’t he? “You’re a hero?!” the little girl with the cute curls asked Kairi, as Kairi took a seat beside them… thinking that if they were going to be having a conversation here, she ought to be polite and not block everyone’s view of the TV. “That’s so cool! Do you think you could give me hero lessons?!” “I’m- I’m really not a hero,” Kairi argued, as she put a gentle hand on the child’s hand—to try and let her know that she wasn’t disagreeing with her because of her, but since she hated herself. “I’m anything but… And while dreams of… heroing are lovely; and some day you may become one yourself and it will be wonderful for you… try to enjoy the simple things of being a child while you can.” “Yes, thank you! The last thing I want, is for Morgan to think that doing dangerous things is good. And Giselle’s right: thank you for bouncing that ball out of the way for us today. I’d thought it was a ball, but it was an apple? That’s crazy. But thank you. I’m Robert, by the way.” He reached his hand out for Kairi to shake it, and she did. And the moment she touched him—maybe it was her Princess of Heart powers—Kairi could tell that Robert had once been a bright light, similar to her, until he’d become jaded like her. And Kairi felt a certain camaraderie there. And while she’d still try to do what she could for Prince Edward… Kairi thought that if Giselle had found someone to balance her out, when she was maybe too idealistic otherwise, was probably a good thing. “Ahh. I guess I’ll do that, then…” Morgan said with a bitter edge to her voice as she began coloring again, but still with a grin for Kairi. And maybe that’s why Kairi chose to then tell everyone gathered who she was (even if she despised who she was). “…Kairi. My name’s Kairi, and it’s nice to meet you all.” And here Kairi bowed at them, that the three seemed to appreciate, but Kairi also thought she’d done something wrong by their reactions. Oh well. “It’s nice to meet you, Kairi. And while I get where you’re coming from—because if I hadn’t tried to rescue Pip, the chain of events that led me to this strange place may have never happened—I’m also glad that I did it. Because Pip deserves to live, of course. And this land is magical, despite everything, and I never would have experienced without my actions… so I’m here, but I’m holding onto my love for my past through my memories.” “You tell them, Giselle,” Morgan supplied, and Kairi noticed that she was giving the woman she was coloring orange hair, too. Maybe… maybe Giselle was right. Perhaps she was looking at this whole thing wrong. And could she, too, now balance her sense of reality with that old idealism somehow? And it was just when Kairi was about to tell Morgan of some of Sora and Riku's adventures--to prove she wasn't completely against teens saving the world--that the chipmunk Kairi had seen earlier appeared on the scene! "Pip!" Giselle exclaimed, as both Giselle and Morgan--and even Kairi herself cooed over him--and when he told Giselle that her prince was there to save her, Kairi cut in that she had meant to tell her that. But then somehow or another, Pip ended up in a pizza, as a man was trying to get him, and Morgan was frantic. And when the pizza went in the oven, Kairi had never felt worse in her life. And when she proved to be the only one who could calm Morgan down--as she got lost in her tales of Chip and Dale--Robert and Giselle invited her over. … Later that night, once Kairi had exhausted herself in trying to assure Morgan that Pip—from what she had seen—seemed plenty resourceful and had surely escaped with his wits about him, she exited the little girl’s room to find Robert and Giselle in some sort of argument… Well, that wasn’t entirely true. First, she’d unintentionally overheard Robert saying how his first wife had left him and that had made him wake up to the idea that true love didn’t exist. And Kairi’s heart had gone out to him, because even while she still strongly believed in what she and Sora had and always would… it had been losing him that had made her somewhat wake up to the horrors of the world. But after that, Robert began trying to Giselle that Prince Edward wasn’t coming for her for whatever reason—something that Kairi had been about to step in and correct—until Giselle sort of ended up snapping herself. And that was what really called on Kairi to make herself known, despite the fact that none of this was really her business at all. Because… was Giselle also somewhat waking up like she had? Giselle seemed furious for the first time that Kairi had ever seen (not that she’d known her much thus far, to be fair). But she seemed oddly… thrilled about it, as she laughed gleefully at the fact that she was angry… before Robert walked off, after Giselle’s hand had found its way to his chest. Kairi remembered what it had felt like to have Sora’s chest pressed up against her own, as he had saved her from Terra-Xehanort… and it was that, more than anything, that made Kairi finally decide to make her presence known and to tell Giselle what was in her heart. “You- you have a right to angel, Giselle. All- all people do. And don’t let anyone tell you any differently, okay? Especially if someone you love has hurt you… intentionally, or not.” Giselle didn’t say anything for a long time—and Kairi was beginning to wonder if she would—so she occupied her time by looking at the holes in the curtains, that it looked as though Giselle had used to make her dresses… the strange pizza boxes that actually seemed to hold something called “doughnut sandwiches”, and the homework of Morgan’s that was littering the couch and hadn’t found its way into her schoolbag yet. There was such a nice, normal life here… and Kairi selfishly wanted to be part of it… Or rather, a life like this with Sora. "Kairi... if you don't mind my asking, do you prefer the emotion of anger? You're kind of acting like it, from what I’ve seen—or maybe hiding your true heart underneath it, a bit like Nancy—not! that I'm badmouthing you or Nancy! You're such a lovely girl, who I sense is trying to be there for everyone here. And as for Nancy… deep down, I sense that she wants something magical like what I have with my Edward." Wow. Giselle had sized Kairi up even better than Naminé ever had. And that was saying something! Though Kairi felt awful, with what Giselle had taken to mean her preferring being mad to anything else. But what was worse, was that Kairi was starting to imagine she was right. And if she was, the Master of Masters might as well have taken her for his plan now! But even if she was doomed, she would stir Giselle in the right way. She would! Kairi promised herself, as she clenched her fists so tightly that her nails drew blood from her skin that way. "I- I'm starting to think one needs both positive and negative sets of emotions in order to be whole. And since if I’m right, it actually affects you, Giselle, as a New Seven Hearts... I'm going to tell you the truth that I probably shouldn’t." “…You and I both have hearts of pure light. But everyone else in the world—save for five others like us—have darkness in their hearts, preferably in balance with their light. I- I used to think we could Seven Hearts could still feel the negative emotions that would lead to darkness in others' hearts—without it doing the same for us—but now I’m not so sure. “Maybe the way I am, with the light in my heart, makes me broken so that I can't understand those who have to deal with a lot of tragedies in their lives… and that's why they leave me. But I'm not saying you'relike that, Giselle... I’m probably just all kinds of a freak, because I wield a Keyblade unlike any other sort of Princess thus far.” But as all of what she’d just said caught up with her, Kairi instantly regretted it. And for it, Kairi almost thought she deserved for the Master of Masters to show up that very moment and give her a thrashing or something. Kairi knew that she hadn’t been applying any of her self-loathing comments to Giselle... but why even sayany of them out loud, then, on the off-chance that Giselle would still take it the wrong way? Kairi was about to apologize for everything she’d just done, but before she could Giselle was throwing her arms around her. "…It sounds to me that you've suffered very much, Kairi, and I'm so sorry for that... You've given me a lot to think over, and I believe most of it. Before, I honestly would have thought you were wrong about needing to feel things like anger, sadness, and envy... but through comparing and contrasting those with their opposite, isn't that how we know the good?" But even with Giselle offering Kairi an olive branch here, she still wanted to try and make things right with her. She thought that the new Princess was perhaps being too kind to her, like Anna, Rapunzel, and even Elsa. But when the woman pulled away from Kairi with a calculating look in her eyes, the auburn-haired-girl thought Giselle must have figured out all the secrets of the multiverse, and she believed in her. … Kairi couldn’t sleep that night, as everything she had thought about and discussed with Giselle hours before—and memories of everything she had been through post-Sora’s disappearance—was causing a conga line of trauma in her heart. So when she eventually heard what sounded like a crash at the door and loud voices, Kairi partly thought she was still dreaming—from the few hours she had been able to sleep—but when she heard the angry tone of Prince Edward, and what sounded like a squeak from Robert, she knew that things had gone to hell in a handbasket and she darted out of bed. And with Destiny’s Embrace acting like more of an extension of her arm than it ever had before, she stopped Prince Edward from dispatching Robert just in time: as she blocked Prince Edward’s weapon with her own. Not having to be told to move twice, Robert moved over to Giselle’s side as they both tried to scream to Prince Edward what was going on. “Fair Kairi, was I wrong to trust you?! Were you also a part of the hideous scheme that took my Giselle away from me all along?!” as he asked this question, the prince was able to cut Kairi’s cheek and—in her shock for that—nearly stab it into her chest. But Kairi simply put a hand over the wound to halt some of the worst of its attributes, and then kicked at him so that he fell into a beanbag chair behind them. Kairi aimed her Keyblade at the Prince, and was about to perform a “Stop” spell on him, if necessary—despite the fact that she didn’t want to seem like she was a witch, to add fuel to Prince Edward’s theory—but it wasn’t necessary when Giselle ran to Edward’s side and embraced him. “Edward, dear, I fell into this land by accident and these kind people have been helping me ever since.” “Oh!” Edward exclaimed, with his demeanor changing completely—back to the man Kairi had actually liked—as he smiled at everyone and offered them his hand. “Then you have my most sincere thank yous, peasants.” And having had enough excitement for one morning—for one life, really—Kairi went back to sleep. She’d deal with whatever Kingdom Hearts was trying to tell her when she had more sleep or caffeine in her system. Preferably both. … When Kairi next awoke—far into the night this time. Oops—it was to find out that Prince Edward and Giselle had gone on some sort of date. And while that seemed right to Kairi—and what she’d been aiming for here along—she also couldn’t deny the sense of wrongness she felt, when she saw how heartbroken Robert looked about it. And as she did notice that, something dawned on Kairi—as she set to making him the kind of tasty coffee that Master Yen Sid had taught her to make with magic—“That’s why you invited me here too, isn’t it? Because I feel in this world, people don’t trust easily and wouldn’t just allow strangers into their homes so easily. You can tell I’m kind of like Giselle. And while you don’t love me, like you do her, you don’t want all magic to leave you and Morgan if she ends up leaving you.” And the way that Robert looked at her then, as he blew at the hot drink that Kairi had just put into his hands, told her that she’d hit the nail on the head. “You’re under no obligation to stay, of course. Neither was, nor is, Giselle. I just wanted to help you both, when I realized you were innocents in New York, of all places, with nowhere to stay and nowhere to protect you… And if you’re able to give a sense of fun to Morgan—that I can’t give her—before you leave, who am I to begrudge you that?” But you are fun to Morgan, Kairi wanted to argue. I could tell that from how she was reading the Madame Curie book, you obviously gave her, before she went to bed last night. She was doing this for you. But she didn’t. Instead, Kairi decided to focus on another question she’d had since entering this world. “I guess I am a bit like Giselle… and come from a place where people believe in one and onlys. So I’ve been confused by the feelings that I’ve seen Giselle show for both you and Prince Edward. But I’ve got to ask: do you think Giselle is your one and only soulmates?” Like Sora is mine, even though I had some crush on Riku when I was younger? And Kairi could tell by his silence, that Robert thought the answer was “yes”, or would have liked it to be. But he’d never say it aloud… probably because he had loved his ex-wife, and maybe thought that she had been a “one and only” for him at the time… Or because he’d become too jaded to voice that he still believed in that stuff, or because he thought it would be inappropriate to discuss or didn’t want to get his heart broken again. But Kairi knew the answer. And it made her sad, as she took a dainty sip from her own coffee and judged the world. “Life isn’t fair, is it?” “No. No it is not.” … Kairi learned the next day—after she hadn’t learned her lesson about getting enough sleep at all, for she had gone out into the night again and fought Heartless after Heartless and Nobody after Nobody—that there was some sort of ball that evening, that both Prince Edward and Giselle and Robert and this Nancy were planning on intending. And while a side of Kairi had been tempted to tell them this was a bad idea—because Robert and Giselle seeing each other all dolled up would surely hurt them even more, with what couldn’t be; Kairi remembered well how Sora had reacted to seeing her older and much prettier in the Castle That Never Was, after all—she’d been unable to deny Giselle and Morgan when they invited her to their “girls night out” to help Giselle get ready. Giselle was also suggesting that Kairi go. And who was she to say no to that, when Kairi was still very much a girl herself and would take any excuse to wear a pretty new dress? So out shopping—and eventually to the salon—they went. Giselle bought an elegant baby purple dress that was almost mermaid and hugged all of her curves… and Kairi went with a similarly cut light brown one (though faux snakeskin)… because she had once dreamed she’d find Sora again while wearing that color partly. And if she could try and make that dream a reality, Kairi would gladly do it. At the salon, she also gave herself a buzz cut—because it would help with all her fighting—whereas Giselle just nicely straightened her hair. But since with her hair option, Kairi knew she had—arguably—made herself uglier than she’d ever looked before, she made sure to go all out with her makeup and jewelry to doll herself up even more. But it was as the hairdresser was adding some wave to Giselle’s locks—and Kairi was buying the best smelling hair gel that she could, to even try and spike her hair some—that Kairi overheard Morgan telling Giselle that boys only wanted one thing. And while it was clear that the young girl had no idea what she was saying—thank the light—Kairi couldn’t help becoming livid, that this was always said against boys. Sora wasn’t like this! Riku wasn’t! And neither were any of the Guardians of Light, for that matter! …But then as Kairi realized she was getting riled up at something as silly as this, she guessed that the Master of Masters must have been right about her and that maybe she was doomed, after all. And Sora… he would surely never love her as she was now, right? So as it was… dark thoughts plagued Kairi, and it ruined a lot of her, Giselle, and Morgan’s time together—though she tried not to let it, and to point out bunnies in the clouds before the taxi driver dropped her off back home—and even her half-an-hour in a cab with Prince Edward and Giselle as they rode to the dance together. But once they reached their destination and Kairi stepped outside, she found her mood improving exponentially. Unlike the rest of New York, this part of it seemed to be kept pretty pristine: so Kairi had no doubt that someone had been hired to sweep outside of this theater, which made her appreciate the brown sidewalk of this world for the first time since she’d seen it. Kairi was also impressed by the wide screen TVs just above the building they were about to enter, that were showing various pictures of the inside and announcing in glitter where they were at. Kairi had never seen something quite so beautiful. And she bet her sister—the artist Naminé—would have appreciated it, too. "Well, shall we my ladies?" Prince Edward asked, as he kindly made sure Kairi and Giselle's coats were securely on them—even though they were about to go inside—since it was a bit chilly. And they followed the crowd and went in, and into the most gorgeous room Kairi had ever beheld. It looked a lot like the floor of the ball pit that Sora had gotten to explore on his last adventure—Kairi knew this from Naminé having shown her some of Sora's memories, on the off-chance that it would help them find him. And everyone was decked out to the nines, and seemed to be having the greatest time. And the punch bowl seemed to be made of ice, if you could believe it! And there seemed to be a purple gem theme that permeated the entire room, that even made it into the balloons above them. "Breathtaking!" Kairi gasped, just as Giselle came up to her side and smiled—laying a friendly hand on Kairi’s shoulder as she did so. Prince Edward took both his date and Kairi's coats off of them now. And as he did so, Kairi noticed Robert—and who she assumed to be Nancy—before them and she could tell that Giselle did, too. Nancy looked absolutely gorgeous—with her hair in stylish pigtails, as she wore a green dress with red accents on it. Robert had cleaned up well, too, as he wore a black tuxedo with his hair slicked back. Kairi was reminded of school events that she  and Sora had dragged Riku to—as he had never wanted to go to them—but he always stole the show at. Robert and Giselle started making small talk… and with that, Kairi felt somewhat out of place and didn't know what to do. She wanted to tell them both to follow their hearts, but how could she when hurt would come from it? She had followed her heart and fought in the Keyblade War, and Sora had died because of it... So to distract herself from the pain and all of the confusion, Kairi introduced herself to Nancy and then suggested that he and Nancy dance together, when it became clear the first waltz was intended for a man with a woman he hadn’t asked out that evening. As Kairi stood on the sidelines, many young men sweetly began asking her to dance… but she turned them all down, for they were not Sora or even Riku. And it was at that point that she—ridiculously, in her eyes—began crying, and wondering what had happened to the tough girl she'd become, as she found herself almost becoming jealous of all of the couples before her. It was then that Kairi heard the same mysterious voice from before. ‘Oh! Poor dear Kairi: doomed to be forever injured by this cruel, cruel world. But, hey: maybe it doesn’t have to be that way. I don’t want Giselle to inherit my throne, because she and my son will force me off it to follow the rules… But if I share my home with you, you won’t… will you, Kairi? After all, I can tell you care little about rules anymore and only want stability. Or, moreover… perhaps I can give you what you want from the depths of your very heart! And before Kairi’s very heart, a Heartless in the form of Sora was created… Though “Heartless” might not have been the right word for it, because that seemed to imply the Shadow Soras or Anti-Sora that Riku had once created… This dark Sora was so close to the real thing in his Anti-Form or Rage Form—even though, deep down, Kairi knew that it was still a Heartless—that Kairi could have almost believed that it was him, and that she’d found him at long last! But she also wasn’t stupid enough to fall for this trap. Now that she thought about it, this was the second time that Kairi had heard about possible danger for Giselle. And at the top of the stairs, Kairi could see someone trying to give Giselle an apple or something! The Princess of Heart tried with all her might to get to her, but she found that she couldn’t move… because—metaphorically, and even somewhat literally—she was split in two: her heart wanted to do the right thing and help her new friend. But her body, that had somewhat been succumbing to wants and desires in this place, wanted nothing but the Sora before her… even if he was a fake, it didn’t care. And when he did a “come hither” motion, Kairi found her body flowing to him of its own accord… and then it was following him into the dark corridor he’d just made on the floor—as so many screamed out for Giselle in that exact moment. ... Kairi, somehow, became aware that it had been moreso her astral body that had followed this “Sora”—as her physical one was desperately trying to regain consciousness in order to help out—on the ballroom floor, but there seemed like there was nothing she could do to cement the two back together. And the most awful part of all of this? Kairi thought that if she had had to fall, she had fallen for the wrong reason. For the most part—though Sora had been misled before—it usually had nothing to do with him chasing phantom versions of her. She was supposed to be like Sora, wasn’t she? And here she had pulled a Riku, almost, when he had listened to Maleficent’s honeyed promises about saving her. Just what was wrong with her?! And it was when Kairi was having these despairing thoughts—and tearing at the little hair she had in her anger—that a memory of Sora’s somehow came her way... of when he had fought Roxas for the first time and the former Nobody had been raining two Keyblades down on him, and Sora had blocked them with a spin and with just Decisive Pumpkin on hand. Idly, Kairi had to wonder if she was maybe doing the same thing against the Sora Heartless’ physical body now (because it seemed it hadn’t really come to this place and had tricked her. Was it still up there with her body, that was only starting to come awake?)... she felt in her body that she probably was, but she didn’t really know. Not when all her consciousness wanted to do, was to reach down and touch the face that she saw on Sora’s heart platform in his memory with Roxas here. In said memory, Roxas was now asking Sora why the Keyblade had chosen him, and realizing it was because he loved both her and Riku so much—as he stood between pictures of both of them—and Kairi thought she might cry. But she also thought she’d done enough of that for a lifetime, so she held it back. 'Are you somehow talking to me here, Sora? ...Telling me that I’m not a fool for losing myself, just for a moment, in my love for you? Or… if you were able to connect to me in this world, are you saying that you’re in this Andalasia New York?!' But as he had done in some of his second journey there, Sora ignored Kairi and she got no answer. And she was left trying to figure it all out for herself. But wasn't that how Sora himself had been on most of his quests? She knew when Ansem Seeker of Darkness had tried to behead Sora, for instance, that he had thrown Donald and Goofy out beforehand. So, holding onto the belief that if Sora could triumph alone, she could do the same… Kairi decided to be strong just like Sora, and she blinked her eyes open. And whatever the reason, the dark Sora had been encompassed by light and was already starting to dissipate as he cried out… and Kairi almost bawled her eyes out for him, or reached for him, but she didn’t: for through his form, Kairi saw Giselle fighting a giant dragon outside and she knew that that should be her priority. The massive blue dragon was speaking to Giselle in that haunting female’s voice that she had now heard three times, and had climbed to the top of a tower with Robert in hand! And Giselle only had a sword to try and fend her off with! Kairi summoned her Keyblade to aid her once more, and was awe-struck when it wasn’t Destiny’s Embrace she was seeing… but somehow Oathkeeper. And that was all she really needed to know, wasn’t it? Kairi was just about to run outside into the rain, when she was stopped by a plump, blond man, who was wearing outfits that spoke to her of Giselle’s and Prince Edward’s. "Princess of Heart, that beast is Prince Edward's mother, the queen Narissa. She wants Giselle to die so that she won’t have to give up her throne for her, and I'm ashamed to say I tried to help her with that... and with some plans against you." "We- we all make mistakes, Sir, but what matters is that you recognized yours, and told me about it so I can help stop things before it becomes too late. That's what matters. And I’m sure Prince Edward feels the same way,” for it was suddenly clear to Kairi that this was the man she’d seen scurrying away from the Prince when she’d first met him. And just behind them, Prince Edward smiled at this man from his court to seemingly tell him that Kairi was right. But before Kairi could witness anymore of this catharsis with them, she used flowmotion to climb the dragon’s back and was then using “Flare” to try and light it up. Meanwhile, Giselle and Pip were cleverly attacking Narissa’s head with blade and weight. But Narissa noticed what Kairi was doing right away, and sent her tail flying into the Princess' face to knock her away. And somehow, it was not the fact that she was flying backwards into a building that Kairi noticed while she was losing, but the rough indents the spike of Narissa’s tail had just left in her face. They hurt. "Ohhhhhh? Is the selfish Princess Kairi finally here to help her friend Giselle, when before she was lost in her own woes? Well, guess what: it doesn't matter. Either way, I'll smash you both into smithereens and still play myself as the victim here!" Narissa hissed, as she also sent Gargoyle Heartless Kairi's way—that tried to pick her up via her light weight and throw her back to the ground, once she’d finally gotten her bearings. But Kairi resisted like it was nothing. "Holy!" she cried out, as she released a beam of light from her Keyblade that then washed the world in its vibrance. But while it was enough to keep Narissa’s tail from moving, it didn’t seem enough to do more to her. Kairi was about to worry for that fact, but then she heard Giselle's voice as she slid down the woman's back and stabbed her with her sword. "Kairi isn't selfish. She's one of the dearest friends I’ve never know—who has told me many truths, even though it’s hurt her!" "Giselle-" Kairi choked out at her friend's easy defense of her. And just as she did, she decided to help Giselle with the final blow. "Pearl!" Kairi screamed, as she did an attack similar to Holy... but that separated itself somewhat, so that it could hit every target on Narissa that Kairi wanted it to. And as Kairi did that, Giselle batted the witch on the head one last time and then jumped into the air so she could free Robert from her claw... but then they were falling out of her hand and down the roof! Except... except that Kairi saw they were fine, and now kissing on said roof. Deciding to leave them alone for just a moment, Kairi returned to the ball room... where she saw Edward and Nancy running away somewhere together? Huh. It seemed they had done the switcheroo on mates, after all. They would probably be fine… But Kairi wanted to make sure, anyway, and to finally give this “Andalasia” place some exploring. And when she got there, she saw that time moved somewhat differently there (it also looked somewhat different here: more like the worlds she was used to seeing, whereas the other one had seemed more like the Pirate world Sora had told her about… or so she guessed). Nathaniel, who had once worked for Queen Narissa, was writing a book about everything he’d been through and an agent by his side seemed very interested in it. And in the background—as they looked through books on shelves to try and find inspiration for what Nathaniel’s book should look like—Edward and Nancy were planning a wedding and inviting Kairi to it, when they got all the kinks worked out… which she of course agreed to. And then Kairi was feeling a weight on her shoulder and again seeing the cute chipmunk from earlier. In a much deeper voice than Kairi had been expecting of him—though, to be fair, she hadn’t thought he could talk at all—he was telling her, “It seems to me, that—for the time being at least—little Giselle doesn’t need me anymore. But it seems like you could use a shoulder to cry on, sweet girl. Mind if I go with you on your adventure?” For the first time in a long time, Kairi truly smiled—thinking that this was how Sora must have felt whenever he had gotten Summons before—“No… I don’t at all. And thank you. But first, I think we should go back and see Giselle and get her permission first.” And back to see Giselle, they went… Or, moreover, back to see Morgan first: as Robert and Giselle were in her room, reading her a bedtime story about Twelve Dancing Princesses, and Kairi had been unable to deny helping to read it to her, too. It was when the adults had safely exited Morgan’s room when she was asleep, that hugs and thank yous were given. “Well, I can’t speak for Giselle, of course… But I think she’d be thrilled with you taking Pip as a thank you, since you helped save me and always believed in us… and love, deep down.” “And that’s- that’s why I actually have to go!” Kairi explained, as she looked at her two new friends in turn, so they’d see how serious this was and maybe finally know the real her. “Because- Because there’s a reason I saw myself in everyone here—and also why I’ve become so jaded—my- my boyfriend died… but I think that he’s out there, and I can save him. I just need to try really hard, and all the help I can get.” And before Kairi could even blink, she found herself in a hug from Giselle again—as the other Princess of Heart even kissed her cheek this time. “Then, yes: please take Pip with you. And if you need my help, I’ll even be content to leave here and help you for a little while, if need be. But thinking of here: always know that you’re always welcome back. Pip, Kairi, take care of each other on the long road.” And as Pip nuzzled into Kairi’s neck and she giggled, she found that neither one of them had to be told that twice. And then—right then—Kairi thought she heard Sora’s voice for the first time in years. “K-K-Kairi, go to- go to a world where you think I became the strongest. There’s something for you there.” And as a tear slid down Kairi’s eye, that both Robert and Giselle tried to wipe away for her, she thought she knew exactly where she was going to next. Author’s Note: I’m sorry that this took me so long to write/post. I hand wrote some of it… and that was actually somewhat my downfall, since it took me forever to type it up after that. And after Re:Mind came out and fixed some of my worries about Kairi going forward, I wasn’t sure if this story was necessary anymore and if I should finish it. But I definitely want to, so here we are Enchanted is also a dream world for me, and I wanted it in this story one way or another… but it was really hard for me to write—perhaps for obvious reasons—and I rewrote a lot of it. Hopefully it’s okay in the end. I actually wanted to do stuff with Nancy, but it didn’t pan out. Prince Edward also sort of disappears, which is a shame since he and Kairi were bonding at first (and they do still have that bond, don’t get me wrong). But perhaps it makes sense, that this moreso focused on Giselle and Robert in the end (and Kairi’s relationship with them), like the film.

#long post #sokai #kairi #dark kairi #riku and kairi friendship that's getting stronger again but still rocky because they need to talk about Everything #enchanted world #no remind #kairi feels all the things #fanfiction #mine #my work #my writing #Shanna writes #kairi story #kairi-centric #for now at least #swallow #swallow chapter three #kaiora

[nomorelonelydays]

Vegas thing, part 9 

(Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8)

(My hockey blog, my AO3) 

Somewhere over the middle of the Atlantic, Zhenya sits in a darkened aircraft cabin, watching a movie mostly to try and quiet his mind. The other people around him are asleep, and he wants to be. His eyes feel gritty and his temples are throbbing, but he keeps watching uptight English people who do a lot of running around in long white dresses and staring longingly across rooms. He doesn’t remember much of it but one phrase lodges itself in his brain and keeps echoing over and over.

“I am half agony, half hope,” the male lead writes in a letter to the very sweet lady he should have been kissing two thirds of a movie ago.

Yes, Zhenya thinks. Exactly like that.

Walking into the terminal at McCarran International doesn’t feel real. Magnitogorsk to Moscow, Moscow to New York. New York to Las Vegas. Zhenya’s been traveling more than 30 hours, thanks to some nasty layovers. Reality feels like it’s warping and twisting out of shape.  He pays attention to what’s happening around him in International Arrivals as he comes down the tunnel, though. He always does, and it’s always worth it.

Three women in saris hug each other, crying. With happiness he hopes. A gaggle of tow-headed children wave around a glittery sign proclaiming “WELcome HoME Uncle MIke!!!!” A young couple makes out in the middle of the terminal floor, the girl’s bags scattered around their feet where she dropped them. People crane their necks, searching for loved ones from far away as passengers trickle in from customs. It’s beautiful.

Zhenya gets frightfully maudlin when he’s this exhausted.

He pauses for a moment to rub his face, trying to wake up. He needs to figure out which fucking carousel his flight’s luggage is on, he needs to call a taxi or something, he needs—

“G!”

Zhenya turns, and there he is. Sid. Walking towards Zhenya still in his tight black T-shirt from work, little gold name badge still pinned to his chest. He looks as tired as Zhenya feels, face drawn and grey.

He’s still the best thing Zhenya’s ever seen, and he opens his arms.

They collide and just kind of, sag into each other. Zhenya wraps his arms tightly around Sid, and breathes in the smell of his hair— stale perfume and cigarette smoke from the casino, cheap shampoo underneath. And even that’s wonderful, too.

Sid’s got his arms locked tightly around Zhenya’s waist and Zhenya feels him take in a deep, shuddering breath that means he’s trying not to cry. Zhenya doesn’t fucking care, his own eyes are already wet. He’s so fucking tired, and Sid’s here in his arms, and just—

“Come on,” Sid says roughly, extricating himself, and taking Zhenya’s carry on bag from him. “Let’s go home.”

Zhenya can’t believe his ears. “I’m go home? With you?”

Sid looks suddenly uncertain. “Um, uh. I mean, I guess you’re probably gonna book a suite or something, sorry, where—”

“No! No, just happy. Want to be with you,” Zhenya blurts hurriedly.

Sid smiles, just a little. “My place, it isn’t much. But, if you want, I want to be with you, too.” He appears to gather himself, before reaching out and threading his fingers through Zhenya’s. Quickly, as if he’s worried Zhenya might not want him to. “Let’s go get your luggage.” And he starts off, tugging lightly at Zhenya to follow. Zhenya fervently hopes he isn’t dreaming.

Sid glances back, and must catch sight of the silly grin splitting Zhenya’s face. He grips their hands together even tighter. “Missed you, G.”

“Me too,” Zhenya manages. “Miss you most. Agony,” he adds, remembering the movie on the plane. Sid blushes and it’s good to see color on his pale face.

“Come on.” And Zhenya lets Sid take him where they need to go.

Zhenya doesn’t remember much of the drive to Sid’s apartment. It’s a blur of glittering lights sliding by the car windows.  He gets a dim impression of a tiny shoebox of a place, with Legos all over the living room floor. He showers, because he feels unbelievably gross. The smell of the soap is exactly what he’s smelled on Sid’s skin before. He pauses in the hallway after, his entire body crying out for sleep, but, where? Sid comes in from the kitchen, arms folded nervously.

“There’s the couch,” Sid says. “But, also. My room.”

“Whatever you want, Sid,” Zhenya says gently. Sid’s shoulders slump.

“With me,” he says, and they look at each other for a moment, before Zhenya sways a little with exhaustion and Sid leads him back to his bedroom. Zhenya blacks out as soon as his head hits the pillows.

He wakes up disoriented, with no idea where he is. The heavy arm slung across his waist jogs his memory, though. Sid.

The room is pitch dark, no way to tell what time it is. He has no idea where his phone is, either. But he’s being aggressively spooned and he’s so elated by it that he grins into the darkness and buries his face happily into his pillow.

Due to their height difference, Sid has his face buried somewhere in the region of Zhenya’s shoulder blades, Zhenya lays as still as possible and tries to enjoy everything about this. The soft sounds of Sid’s breathing, the heavy solidity of him against Zhenya’s lankier body. The way his hold tightens a little when Zhenya shifts.

It scares the shit out of him when Sid snuffles a little and says, very clearly, “Sorry, alligators are illegal”, and then, a moment later, “match penalty.” He then resumes the deep, even breathing of sleep, and Zhenya lies there with his heart racing, warmly endeared and a tiny bit unsettled.

It’s less funny when, a few minutes later, Sid murmurs, “Avery. S’ok, bud. S’ok” and burrows even further into Zhenya, as though unconsciously seeking comfort. Zhenya lays his hand over Sid’s, and feels his heart ache.

Eventually, however, an almighty need to piss presents itself. Zhenya regretfully has to disentangle himself from Sid’s arms. He manages to find the bedroom door without crashing into anything, and carefully eases out into the hall.

When he makes it to the kitchen after, the clock on the microwave is blinking 4:48 am. It’s roughly a 12 hour time difference, no wonder he’s wide awake. He doesn’t want to rummage in Sid’s cupboards without asking, so luckily he finds a glass in a dish rack by the sink. He sips water from it slowly, leaning against the counter and gazing out of the little window above the sink at the strange, dingy orange glow of the sky. It never gets properly dark here, too many bright city lights, and it traps Vegas in a surreal false dawn all night.

His bags are by the door, so he digs out his phone, which is dead, and his charger. It bleeps a little hysterically with accumulated texts once the screen lights up. He stretches out as best he can on the smallish sofa and prepares to deal with them. First in importance are the ones from his mother, who is demanding to know if he’s arrived alive or not. He texts her that he’s fine, and that he’s staying with Sid. His phone rings almost immediately.

“Mama,” he whispers as soon as he picks up. “Do you have any idea what time it is here?”

“No, is it late?” she asks, not sounding very sorry.

“Try very, very early,” he replies. “And no, you can’t talk to Sid, he’s asleep.”

“Who says I wanted to talk to Sidney?” she sniffs. “Maybe I wanted to hear my son’s voice.”

“Mama,” Zhenya sighs.

That’s when Sid appears in the doorway, sleep-rumpled and blinking in the light of the lamp Zhenya had switched on.

“Shit!” Zhenya says, then, “No, not you Mama, just a minute.” He takes the phone away from his ear. “Sid. So sorry. I’m wake you up?”

“No, no worries. I don’t sleep so well these days, “ Sid says, and rubs at his eyes. FIX IT! FIX IT! Zhenya’s heart screams at him. If only he could.

“It’s my mama,” Zhenya explains. “Want to know I’m arrive safe.”

Sid smiles sweetly at that, “That’s great, G.”

“Sidney?” says his mother’s voice, tinny but loud enough to be heard without being on speaker. Zhenya rolls his eyes.

“You her favorite,” he tells Sid, who looks taken aback.

“Why?”

“I’m go home because of you,” Zhenya says. Sid flinches.

“Because I broke up with you.”

“No— well, little bit. But I’m go home because you make me want to be better person. Fix with family.”

“G,” Sid breathes, eyes wide. Zhenya reaches a hand out for him, and Sid comes to sit on the edge of the couch. Zhenya presses the button to put the phone on speaker.

“Mama? He can hear you.”

“Sidney,” his mother says warmly. “Darling. Thank you for being so good for my son.”

“Uh, hello Mrs. Malkin. It’s nice to meet you,” Sid replies stiffly. He’s got his hands folded in his lap like he’s a damn student in the principal’s office, and Zhenya needs to end this call so he can kiss him senseless. “What— what did she say?” Sid continues nervously.

“She say thank you.”

“I hope your little boy gets well soon. Let my Zhenya take care of you.”

“She say, hope Avery get better. Also, let me take care of you.”

Sid looks stunned, and then after he blinks a few times, Zhenya catches the shine of unshed tears in his eyes. “Okay. Thank you, Mrs. Malkin. Uh, spa— spasibo.” That’s too much, and Zhenya has to lean over to kiss his cheek.

“You’re so welcome, sweetheart. Zhenya, he sounds lovely.”

“He is,” Zhenya says. Then, to Sidney: “She say you welcome, say you sound most nice.” Even in the low lamplight, he can see Sidney’s blush. “Like I said, Mama, it’s heinously early.”

“Go!” She laughs. “Go be with your man. I want pictures. Or to Skype later. So does your father. Keep us posted on how Avery’s doing.”

“Fine, fine,” Zhenya says. “Take care, Mama. Love you.”

“Love you too, Zhenya.”  

He ends the call, and hug-tackles Sid into the sofa immediately. Sid laughs, and between the kisses Zhenya’s raining all over his face and neck asks: “What— what did she— please, G. What did she call you? At the end there.”

Zhenya raises himself on his elbows to look down at Sid. “Zhenya. It’s short name. Like Sasha for Alexander. Family, good friends call.”

Sid frowns a little. “Zhen-ya. Zhenya. That’s really nice.”

Zhenya buries his face in Sid’s neck because he isn’t quite ready for Sid to see the expression he’s currently wearing. “Can call me. Sounds good.”

He feels Sid card his fingers through Zhenya’s hair. “Zhenya.” The single word comes out warm and meaningful. Zhenya kisses him again, hard, lingering. Cheek, lips, neck. Sid sighs in pleasure when Zhenya moves to the spot just below his ear.

Zhenya lays his head on Sid’s chest, and they’re still for a moment then, resting just like that. Sid’s hand tangled in Zhenya’s hair and Zhenya listening to the even beat of Sid’s heart beneath his thin sleep shirt.

“My mom— “ Sid says, and falters. “My parents. When Avery was born, they were so angry with me. I was so young, it was an accident. My decision to keep him instead of putting him up for adoption made them furious.  But he’s my son. I wouldn’t give him up for the world. It just…was nice. Your mom. How sweet she was. How she mentioned Avery.”

“She’s best,” Zhenya says, keeping his tone light but roiling with righteous anger inside. “Sid best, too.“ 

“Charmer,” Sid scoffs, but he’s smiling, Zhenya can hear it in his voice. They lay there quietly for a bit longer.

“I need to leave to see Avery at seven. Come with me?” Sid says at last.

“Of course, Sid. Of course. We go together.”

#Vegas bunny au #not written by me #submission #AAAAAAAAAAAAAA MY HEART #sidgeno

[bellabooks]

8 of the best queer video game heroines of the past decade

Gamers, gather round. Non gamers, pull up a chair too. 2017 is looking like a pretty good year for women in gaming. There’s been some significant progress in the last decade but that doesn’t let game companies off the hook for the lack of characters of color (and a near total absence of QWOC characters), trans and non binary characters, folks with disabilities, and female characters of different sizes, however. (We’ll be tackling this and more in an article coming soon.) It is good to see that the gaming industry is listening though, and working (albeit slowly) to catch up to their audience. That being said, there is cause for celebration with this new batch of new female fronted games including Mass Effect Andromeda, Horizon Zero Dawn, and Unchartered: The Lost Legacy. So let’s give it up for the queer gaming heroines, rare and wonderful, who have captured our attention and hearts over the last decade.   Femshep via realmsofchirak.blogspot.com Commander Shepard (Mass Effect) You’ll be hard pressed to find a more kickass leading lady that Commander Shepard (or Femshep as she’s know in gaming circles). Part of Mass Effect’s massive appeal is its customizable leads, allowing gamers to create a Shepard of any race or ethnicity, and really shaping the character by the choices you make. Jennifer Hale, one of the most well known voice actors in the industry, gives Shepard her voice and has been lauded by many for making Femshep a better overall character than her male counterpart. Commander Shepard is who you want her to be: A hero for the universe to cheer for. Or maybe even a real jerk. That’s the beauty of Shepard. Shepard’s sexuality is entirely up to the player, and her love interests include Liara T’soni (who is mentioned later in this article), yeoman Kelly Chambers, Asari warriors Samara and Morinth, Comm specialist Samantha Traynor, and reporter Diana Allers.   Ellie (Last of Us) The Last of Us may have come out in 2013, but Ellie’s story is far from over. When we first meet Ellie, she’s a young teen, trying to survive in a post-apocalyptic Texas. A mutated fungus has turned most of the world’s inhabitants into zombie-like monsters. Ellie is special however, and wanted by the renegade group, The Fireflies, as she was exposed to the fungus and survived. She teams up with a man named Joel, who is tasked with escorting Ellie to safety…we’ll, at least that’s what he thinks. Ellie is quite a fighter herself and the you play as both Ellie and Joel throughout the game. She’s one of the most compelling and rich female characters in gaming history. In the game’s DLC, (which takes place prior to her meeting Joel) we meet Ellie’s best friend and crush, Riley. The two try to steal a few moments to be teenagers together, and end up sharing a sweet dance and a first kiss. Unfortunately, they are both bitten, and only Ellie lives. Naughty Dog Studios, who created The Last Of Us, have announced that the game’s sequel will focus on an older Ellie, who is dealing with the still dangerous existence and the fallout from Joel’s choices in the previous game. Perhaps Ellie will find love, or at least some peace in the sequel.   Max Caufield (Life is Strange)  Life is Strange was a surprise smash hit in 2015, and had gamers chomping at the bit for each new released episode. The premise deals with the Butterfly Effect, and how lead character Max’s decisions will profoundly alter the space/time continuum. Back in her hometown of Arcadia Bay to attend a prestigious high school, Max is reunited with her childhood friend, Chloe. Chloe and Max’s connection runs deep, and after trying to help Chloe find her missing best friend (and girl that she loved), the world that they know is changed forever.  Max, who is an introverted but brilliant young photographer deals with decisions no one should have to, and as the game goes on, the weight of those decisions changes her. The game’s final choice, led to the fandom cry, “bae before bay.”   Tracer (Overwatch) The incredibly popular multi-player game, Overwatch, dropped a pretty big glitter bomb on players this past December. It was revealed in a comic, that Tracer, the perky time traveling former Overwatch agent, has a live in girlfriend. Tracer has been one of the games most popular players since its start in May of 2016, even gracing the cover of the game. A quintessential good guy, Tracer can travel through time, in addition to her skills as a shooter. She also has an adorable accent and a pixie cut to die for.   Liara T’Soni (Mass Effect) Brilliant, beautiful, blue. Liara isn’t a playable character in the Mass Effect series, but she’s most certainly its heart. A scientist by trade, Liara is also an adept fighter from the Asari race of aliens. Liara was actually created to be genderless, so she can be considered a hero and a heroine. She is fiercely devoted to Commander Shepard and the characters share a tender and passionate love story if the player so chooses. When the Commander disappears and is badly hurt in the second game, Liara fights tooth and nail to find her. A series of comics detail Liara’s experience and how she ends up becoming a hardened information broker by the time Shepherd catches up with her again. Her arc is one of the more fascinating in the series, and after spending 100 hours in the Mass Effect universe, you’ll find out just how much you count on Liara. Liara joins Shepard in her final fight, and the game allows the player to rekindle their romance, which is totally worth it. Definitely the kind of person you want on your team.   via Youtube The Warden (Dragon Age: Origins) The original Dragon Age doesn’t get nearly the love it deserves for being a hell of an epic RPG. Sure, clunky warfare and the fact that your character doesn’t speak can be a bit distracting, but DA:O is still a pretty fantastic game. Released in 2009 and with two sequels, DA:O is the only game to star the Warden. Studio Bioware was already ahead of the curve when it came to offering players a chance to create diverse character designs, but your Warden also has the choice to romance a same sex love interest. (I still heart you, Leliana.) Throughout this  sprawling game, the Warden deals with multiple serious issues like classism, xenophobia and war. While the Warden doesn’t speak out loud (something that was fixed with leads in the sequels), they still have a tremendous appeal, especially as you are romancing one of your companions one moment, and trying to save the world from being plunged into darkness the next.   Samantha (Gone Home) If you haven’t played this gorgeous little indie game, stop everything and pick it up. It’s ok, I’ll wait. Set in Portland during the mid-90s, Gone Home is a thrill, filled with riot grrrl rock and angst. While you are actually playing as Samantha’s older sister, Kaitlin, Gone Home is most decidedly Sam’s game. You follow clues around your family’s empty house, trying to figure out the whereabouts of your little sis. Along the way, and through Sam’s voiceover in journal entries, letters and tapes, you discover she had fallen in love with her classmate, Lonnie. You can’t help but relate to Sam and her emotional journey that feels so rich and authentic, that your heart will be pounding out of your chest as you near the end of the game. We never meet Sam, but her presence is everywhere.   Marjory Delaqua (Guild Wars 2) Guild Wars 2 is the only MMO (Massively Multiplayer Online) game on this list, but it’s a beloved and popular one indeed. Marjory is a necromancing detective (get a girl who can do both) and one of the only queer women of color featured prominently in US gaming. In addition to being fierce and fabulous, she’s partnered with an equally cool lady love named Kasmeer Meade. Gotta love a lady who can raise the dead. Who are your favorite queer game heroines?   http://dlvr.it/NBdkmF

#ACTION #ADVENTURE #Dragon Age: Origins

[ericjuneau]

Reprise (Chapter 19) [Frozen/Tangled/The Little Mermaid]

CHAPTER 19: Dawned on Me

Elsa, Ariel, Rapunzel, and Arcius stared at each other. He looked as if he were waiting for them to make the next move.

Ariel leaned in to the others. "What do we say?" she whispered.

Elsa stepped forward and curtseyed. "I am Queen Elsa of Arendelle. This is Princess Ariel and Princess Rapunzel."

"Yes, I know." He walked up to them and kissed Elsa's hand. Then he embraced Elsa in a hug, to her surprise. He smelled sweet and clean. "I am so glad you made it. I was afraid there were too many obstacles in your path. Or you might choose the wrong direction," he said, after embracing Rapunzel and Ariel in turn.

"So you sent us these letters." Rapunzel pulled out hers.

"I did," Arcius said. "And I'm glad you were able to decipher them. Encryption is a difficult skill to master. It requires almost a mind-to-mind contact. And I apologize for all your hardships in getting here. I needed to make sure you and only you could find me."

"So you wanted us to come here?" Ariel asked. "Why?"

"We'll get to that. Believe me, I know your problems and I have every intention of helping you. But you must be hungry and tired. You've been working under such unnecessary duress. Let us discuss over a meal. We can fill our bellies and rest our bottoms."

Ariel giggled. Arcius clapped his hands.

A door leading to the west opened, leading to a well-lit hallway. "Down the hall is a room to freshen up in, clean clothes to wear. In the meantime, I shall prepare our repast." With a swish of his cape, he exited the way he came.

The hallway ended in a large, lavish dressing chamber. In the middle of the room sat a round table divided into thirds. Each of the three wedges faced a different vestibule, where a hot bath lay waiting.

"Wow," Ariel said.

"Yeah... that's all I can think of... wow," Elsa said.

Ariel pulled open the closet door, a room in itself. Dozens of elegant clothes lay hanging or folded inside the wardrobe. Ariel picked the dress that appealed to her the most. It was tailor made to her size and color.

"This all seems a little weird," Elsa said. "Are we sure he wants to help us?"

"At least he didn't attack us," Rapunzel said. "On the other hand, I don't know many good people that live alone in an island volcano lair."

Ariel said, "Ravir was living alone. Maybe having all that power makes you feel distant from others."

"Ravir was living in squalor. Arcius is living like a sultan," Elsa said. "I don't know. Something feels off."

"We're keeping our eyes open," Rapunzel said. "This isn't the first time people claimed to be helping us, right?"

"Right," Elsa and Ariel said, almost too loud.

The three of them took baths in water that never seemed to lose temperature. Each vanity had an assortment of make-up and powder individually attuned to their skin tones and colors. After all the rugged hiking and traveling, dressing up for a formal setting was actually pleasant. They couldn't stop complimenting each other on how elegant each looked.

"Ready?" Elsa asked.

They exited the dressing chamber to the central room. But it was no longer there. Or had been altered within an impossible timespan.

Before them was now a banquet hall with table settings for four--three chairs on one side, the fourth at the head. A magnificent chandelier of interlocking gold candelabras hung from the ceiling. Each setting had a glass already filled with white wine.

Favorite foods filled the table. A steaming pot of proper tea lay on a stone slab, exuding with earthy aroma. Ariel's eyes lit up at the sight of seaweed pasta. She hadn't had that since she was a child. Rapunzel salivated at the fruit pies.

Amid these were plates of spiced squash, stuffed peppers, cherries in sweet cream, oatbread, spiced plum mousse, and fig tarts. The three main dishes--roasted honeyed chicken, ham studded with cloves, and chopped mutton--lay like landmarks in a sea.

They pulled out their chairs and sat down. At that moment, Arcius came through the doors, wearing a more subdued robe with the same color scheme.

"Ladies, you look absolutely lovely. If every blade of grass were a quill and sky made of parchment, I could not begin to write of your beauty."

Ariel blushed. Rapunzel grinned. Even Elsa couldn't help but smile.

"I hope everything is to your liking. Please let me know if there's anything missing or tastes off," Arcius said.

"You made all this? Through magic?" Rapunzel asked.

"I did," Arcius nodded. "Please eat. I know you're starving. There's no need to stand on formalities here. We're all peers."

Ariel was the first to start taking food. The rest followed.

"Tell me, there must be an entertaining story on how you finally decoded the messages?" Arcius asked.

"We met Omis Ravir," Ariel said. "He helped us."

"Omis Ravir..." Arcius took a sip of wine. "I didn't know he was still around. Good for him."

"He was living in an abandoned church, all alone. He said the magic had corrupted him," Rapunzel said. "He didn't even look human anymore."

Arcius sadly nodded. "Yes, it is easy for power to force one's desire toward isolation. I am no different."

"But you don't seem like him," Elsa said.

"I was lucky to avoid the consequences Ravir did. But only through harsh discipline. It is a fine line to walk for mortal man to degenerate into turpitude. Power only thins the line further. Once I had taken the mantle, my journey had only begun. But I had good teachers."

"Was one of them Dame Naidra?" Ariel asked, slurping up more seaweed pasta.

"Ah, Dame Naidra..." A boyish smile appeared on his face. "Now that's a name I haven't heard for a while."

"She's the one who told us about the cult of Temeris," Ariel said.

"She's a strong woman. I admired her for that. I met her near the end of my odyssey. She was something of a student herself at the time, but she yielded remarkable self-control for someone so young."

"She's not that young anymore," Ariel said.

"Wait a minute," Elsa said. "You knew Dame Naidra when she was younger? How old are you?"

Arcius grinned. "As old an idea, but younger than thought. Yes, the magic does increase one's longevity but it's no path to immortality. As to answer your question, I'm afraid I don't know," he said with a laugh. "The moment one stops keeping track of time is the moment it becomes lost forever. I simply had no need to track the hours and days anymore. My self-imposed isolation saw to that."

Elsa said, "Then do you-"

"ERRRK..." Ariel seized up, dropping her fork with a clatter. She strained against the chair, eyes closed, teeth grinding.

"Ariel?" Rapunzel said.

"Sunset," she said through gritted teeth. "No windows. Couldn't tell..." Silver and china clanged as Rapunzel and Elsa sprang up. They lay her down on the floor.

Arcius stood, looking alarmed. "She's turning back into a mermaid, isn't she?"

Rapunzel and Elsa looked up, stunned.

Arcius wiped his mouth hastily. "Let me help."

He waved his hand and fluttered his fingers. A gentle dusting of gold particles rained over her, settling on Ariel's kicking legs before disappearing.

Ariel released her held breath. Her legs dropped to the floor.

"There. The curse is removed. You should no longer change form," Arcius said.

"You removed it? Just like that?" Ariel asked.

"Yes. Again, I cannot apologize enough for all I've put you through. This was all a misunderstanding."

"You put the spell on her?" Elsa asked, matter-of-factly. "On all of us?"

"Yes."

Elsa and Rapunzel helped Ariel to her feet. "You made Rapunzel's hair grow long and my kingdom covered with ice."

Arcius sighed, jowls drooping. "Yes. I am the one responsible."

"Can you undo it?" Rapunzel asked.

"I could. But..." He tapped his chin. "Let me show you something first."

He turned and entered the double doors at the end of the banquet hall. Ariel, Elsa, and Rapunzel hiked up their skirts and followed him. They headed down a set of stairs, deeper within the mountain, until they reached a bridge.

The bridge crossed over a tremendous chamber--thousands of feet up, thousands of feet down. And eerily silent. At the top, the roof contained a jagged hole where they could see the orange sky. Down below, darkness covered all, but they could smell the tang of salt and lapping water.

"This is the inside of the volcano," Rapunzel said.

"The very core. The sky above and the sea below," Arcius said.

"You hollowed it out?" Rapunzel asked.

"This is the center of my world. It makes an effective playground for my practice. The rooms you saw, I hardly ever enter. They are for the benefit of guests."

They began crossing the bridge. Ariel made the mistake of glancing toward the terminal abyss that awaited with a slight misstep and got dizzy.

There was a single stand of chromium metal at the end. It had a large concave dish on top, like a birdbath. A shallow pool of blue liquid lay inside the alabaster dish. Not water, though it was as translucent and thin. Arcius beckoned them to gather round.

"Do you see it?" he asked.

At the bottom lay a microscopic granule, gleaming in the skylight.

"That," Arcius said, "is a grain from the sands of time. It's small, but there's immense power in it. Astronomical, world-shifting power. Power over time itself. And that, dear ladies, is where the root of your problems lie. You see, within one of my earlier operations there were elements that led to this becoming..."

"Reverted?" Rapunzel said.

"Yes. Spiritually speaking. It's complicated, but that's accurate to say."

"Where did this come from?" Ariel asked, eyeing it as a fine piece of jewelry.

"I'm afraid that story would be... incomprehensible. I wish I could tell you, it's fascinating. But there are no words for certain things I experienced."

"Wait," Elsa said, "So this grain of time somehow brought things back to how they were before?"

"It was a complete accident, I assure you. I can never apologize enough for the harm it's caused," Arcius said.

"With Ariel and Rapunzel, it kind of makes sense. But your 'operation' caused a huge ice storm in my town. How is that a reversion?"

"I apologize. This is all difficult to explain without foreknowledge. The results weren't simply a linear change or crossing of time streams. It was more of an... an echo. It brought out the innate natures of a previous time, before certain events had occurred. In each of your cases, fundamental life-changing events made a... I suppose a 'backslide' would be an appropriate term. For you, Elsa, your crisis was more wide-spread than personal."

Elsa shook her head. "I don't understand this at all. But do you have the power to change everything back?"

"Oh yes," Arcius said. "Absolutely. Of course... but... I was hoping you would listen to my proposal at first."

"Proposal?" Rapunzel asked.

"Yes, you see. My original intention wasn't to harm you. I was trying to summon you."

"Summon us?" Elsa asked.

"Yes. You three possess unique traits that intersect multiple spheres of nature. Your original form," Arcius said to Ariel, "Your connection to life essence," to Rapunzel, "And your inherited magic," to Elsa. "These omit you from the effects of the grain of time, no matter how hard I try."

"It sure seemed to affect us," Elsa said angrily.

"Yes, and therein lies why the experiment went wrong. It was totally unintentional. But my ways of making contact are limited, if I want to preserve my security. I sent those letters as soon as I could to encourage you forward. I'm afraid my roundabout methods only caused delays."

"But there's a way to undo it? Or fix it?" Ariel asked.

"Yes, but-" Arcius pointed a finger. "Let's first establish whether we want to do such a thing. Of course, your kingdom," he said to Elsa, "must be righted as soon as possible. I have already managed to remove the ice."

"Well, thank you for that," Elsa said. "But what about the clouds?"

"And my hair. It makes me a target," Rapunzel said.

"I'm not saying that it isn't issue. But what you girls don't realize is that, with your gifts, there is much untapped potential. Elsa has the power to freeze more than just ice. Rapunzel has the power not just to heal but to return life itself. Was that not done for your spouse?"

Rapunzel remembered when her hair had been cut, her powers gone, as she wept over Flynn's body. Her falling tears healed him, but she had always thought that was because he wasn't completely dead yet.

"And Ariel... you have the power of a god at your fingertips."

She held out her trident, looking at it.

He hunched toward them, as if telling a secret. "Imagine what the three... no, the four of us could do if we united."

"Like what?"

"Like turn back time." Arcius grinned. "Think about it. Even with the powers we each possess we are still held back by our human natures. We trust the wrong person or misunderstand another or simply run out of days. We're only limited by our inability to correct mistakes. Does that seem fair?"

"Are you saying we can go back in time?" Rapunzel asked. "Go back and... change things?"

Arcius made eye contact with Elsa. "Elsa. You could have the time back that you missed. Spend your formative years with your sister, out in the open, embracing your power instead of fearing it. Ariel, you could do so much knowing what you know now. You could stop the death of your mother. You could unite humans and merpeople. Rapunzel..." He bowed his head, clapped a hand on her shoulder. "Eighteen years. Eighteen years living under a lie. Eighteen years locked in a tower, in a single room, waiting for your life to begin. You'll never have those years back. But what if you could." His eyes bulged. "You could be a child again. You could have a mother and a father. You could have friends, toys to play with, the joy of growing up all over again. In the way you were meant to. You can have that."

"And you?" Elsa asked in a flat tone. "What would you do?"

Arcius straightened. "What wouldn't I do? With this kind of power my sorcery would turn obsolete. It... it would change everything. Every slight, every oversight--gone. Erased."

"You have time you want erased too, then?" Elsa asked.

Arcius sighed. "Yes, yes, I do. You refer to the time I spent within incarceration, I think."

Elsa nodded.

"A human life isn't without some regrets. I wanted to be powerful, but controlling such divinity takes commitment. Discipline. I needed isolation, confinement, time. There is no better place for that than prison."

"But you had to do something to get there."

"It was a victimless crime. I've never wanted to harm anyone, I assure you. But even after those twelve years, I wasn't strong enough. I knew the heart of Temeris would take time to master. Now that I have, the only thing stopping me is the limits of my human form. But with you..."

He reached out his hand.

"We could perform miracles."

The girls glanced at each other. No one wanted to be the first to speak.

Arcius pulled back his hand. "You look apprehensive. I understand. You don't have to decide anything now. Sleep on it. Stay the night. You've learned a great deal in a short amount of time. I'm sure you're quite tired. Let me show you to your rooms."

Arcius led them back across the bridge. He opened a door into a hallway and gestured them to enter.

"Good night ladies. When you are prepared in the morning, just ring the bell. You should have better dreams tonight than in any days past."

Arcius shut the door behind them once they walked through. The hallway ended in vast chamber. A picture window looked out onto the ocean. Three king-size canopy beds lay in a row against the wall, facing three dressing shades and vanity mirrors. Each desk contained basic essentials--water, hair ties, and a pillow smelling of their homeland. Balsam & pine for Elsa, honeysuckle & vanilla for Rapunzel, and sharp tropical and citrus fumes for Ariel.

One by one, they changed for bed, then returned to their spots. Rapunzel approached the picture window, awed by a living painting. She imagined she was overlooking the entire world. Ariel sat on the edge of her bed, rubbing her feet along the embroidered carpet.

"So..." Elsa said humbly. "What, uh... what do you all think?"

Nobody answered for a full minute.

"I... I don't know what to think," Ariel said. "The idea's so huge, it feels like it won't fit in my brain."

Rapunzel nodded. "It's a lot of power."

Elsa looked at her uncovered hands. "Too much power can be a bad thing."

Ariel spun her trident idly. "But it can be used for good."

"How do we know it'll be good?" Elsa asked. "How do we know what will happen at all? What if mermaids and humans became united? That would change the world."

"But think about all the other things we could do. All the good things," Rapunzel said. "Prevent wars. Stop accidents. Warn people before earthquakes or storms. Your parents wouldn't have died."

"You would never have been locked in a tower," Ariel said.

"But you also would have never gotten your hair. If we warned anyone about Mother Gothel, she might try something harsher than just kidnapping."

"But we could fix that. We could tell her not to use the flower. And then..." Rapunzel trailed off.

"And then you would never be born," Elsa finished. "I don't know what will happen if you start reaching into the past to change things."

"But it's not like we only have one chance to get it right," Ariel said. "If you don't like how something turned out, you can always change it."

"That's what bothers me. It's like taking back moves in chess. It changes the game. In fact, it makes it never end. You could drive yourself crazy thinking like that--what would have happened, what might have happened," Elsa said.

"But... if you can always go back to change things, you always have the time to plan it out," Rapunzel said.

"That's right," Ariel said. "We have all the time in the world. We have a grain of time."

"I'm not trying to advocate against it," Elsa said. "Lord knows I'd love to live a happier life."

"We could do that," Rapunzel said. "We could save all the Elsas and Ariels and Rapunzels."

"We could..." Elsa agreed.

Silence. And in that silence, one of two unspoken decisions hung in the air. All that remained was for one of them to grab it.

In the morning, the three of them entered the volcano's cavity, the centerpiece of Arcius's refuge. Sure enough, he was there, standing over the altar, gazing into the pool. Perhaps he had been there all night. Maybe he didn't need to sleep anymore with his level of magic.

Arcius didn't acknowledge their presence until they a few feet away. He straightened up.

"Good morning," he said. "I didn't expect you this early. But I'm glad you stayed. You could have run off and escaped the island, told everyone where I was. Shall we have breakfast?" Arcius started to walk back across the bridge.

"Before breakfast," Elsa said. "We wanted to let you know--we're not interested in what you're planning."

"Really?" Arcius said. "But why?"

Elsa sighed. "It... it sounds like a good idea. And I'm sure it could be. But it's just too complex. It raises too many questions."

"But isn't it still worth using?" Arcius asked. "Power over time itself. You're right, it is complex. But to make the world right--to bring peace and prosperity and unity--isn't that worth it? It's not even a matter of chance. I know we could get it right. There's no way we couldn't."

"But that's my point," Elsa said. "How far do you plan to go to 'get it right'? How far back do you go to change things? All the way back to the dinosaurs?"

"You'd be constantly starting over," Ariel said. "And over and over and over and over, every time something you didn't like happened."

"But it's not just me deciding," Arcius said. "It would be all of us."

"I don't want to decide," Elsa said. "I'm a queen. And I already think I have too much power."

"We all know what it's like to rule a country," Rapunzel said. "Ruling over time... I don't think we should try."

Arcius looked aghast. "Princess Rapunzel? Even you think this? You were a child slave, shown so little love and kindness. Your entire world was defined for you. I thought you over all would understand."

"Maybe I do," Rapunzel said. "But that doesn't mean I'd choose to turn it into something else. Without it, I wouldn't have learned astronomy or baking or art. I wouldn't have met my husband. It wasn't pleasant, but it wasn't torture."

Arcius paced across the narrow breadth of the bridge. He scratched the back of his head. "I don't understand this," he muttered. "How could you say no? It's what you all wanted out of life. A chance to make it all better. To stop the wounds of the world before they even start."

"We appreciate the offer," Ariel said. "It's just... not for us."

"But I need you for this. I can't do it alone. There's no one else." He approached Rapunzel and held her shoulders. "There must be something I can say to convince you. What about me? Without this all my work will evaporate. I've dedicated my entire life to this. Don't tell me it's all been for naught."

"Well, it's not like you're out of time. You're still young. If you want, we can help you find a new-"

"This was how you were supposed to help." Arcius shook her by the shoulders. "You've got to agree."

Elsa frowned. "Hey. Watch it."

"Sorry, sorry." Arcius raised his hands and stepped back.  

"You gave us a choice. And we made it," Elsa said. "I'm sorry if it wasn't what you wanted to hear. "

Arcius rubbed one hand with the other, massaging his knuckles.

"Thank you for the hospitality, but we need to go," Elsa said.

He pursed his lips over and over. "I'm afraid that's no longer an option."

Elsa, Ariel, and Rapunzel opened their eyes wide. "You need to let us go now. Turn back the curse. Let us on our way."

"I'm afraid I can't," Arcius said. "Not because of the exposure of my location. I'm not worried about any defense force. But the gifts you have are far more important than yourselves. Elsa can freeze anything. Rapunzel can give immortality. Ariel has the power of a god. She can control more than half the earth."

"We told you," Ariel said. "We're not giving you any of our power."

Arcius smirked. "If you won't give it, I'll TAKE IT." He reached out his hand.

Rapunzel floated into the air, as if grabbed by an invisible giant. Elsa and Ariel reached for her, but it was too late. The golden hair wrapped around her like a ribbon, kinked in different parts, flashing like lightning. Each jolt left her hair with less luster and made her shriek in pain.

"Let her go!" Elsa said.

Ariel fired her trident. A blast of lightning hit Arcius in the shoulder. He barely acknowledged the impact. She fired again. Arcius held out his hand and absorbed the energy into his palm.

Elsa threw her arms at Arcius. A white jet encased Arcius's legs in solid ice. Arcius gestured his free hand at his legs. The ice melted as if under a hot lamp. "Keep testing me. Really."

Elsa and Ariel looked at each other.

Ariel pointed her trident at the altar. "I'll destroy the grain of time."

Arcius laughed. "If I can protect myself against your power, wouldn't I set up the same wards for what I hold most dear? And you know..." He held out his arm. An aura of energy began to grow, white hot like a star. "I only need one of you for this."

Ariel swallowed. In a panic, she fired her trident. The beam hit Arcius square in the eyes. He screamed and fell back.

Rapunzel fell from the sky. Elsa ran to catch her. The three of them fell in a heap.

"You all right?" Elsa asked. Rapunzel gulped, but nodded.

Arcius stalked toward them, both arms outstretched. "What have you done? I can't see-"

Rapunzel whipped her hair at Arcius's leg. It wrapped around his ankle. She yanked and his feet slid out from under him. He landed on his back, buying them a few seconds.

"We need to get out of here," Elsa said.

Ariel looked over the edge of the bridge. "Jump!" she said.

"Are you crazy?" Elsa and Rapunzel said at the same time.

"Just do it," Ariel said. She gripped her trident with both hands. "Trust me."

Elsa flashed back to Ariel's childish distractions. But she ran.

"Go! Go! Go!"

With a nudge of the trident, Elsa and Rapunzel dived into the abyss. Ariel followed. Their screams echoed in the hollow chamber. The wind pressured Ariel to close her eyes, but she kept them open. Growing darkness began to swallow them. Before they disappeared from her view, she aimed her trident. The weapon hummed with golden energy, then fired.

They hit the water hard. The water hit hard back.

#ariel #Elsa #Rapunzel #Tangled #Frozen #The Little Mermaid #Disney #fanfiction #reprise #fanfic #crossover #disneyprincess

[mollymauk-teafleak]

Out of Tal Dorei

This is a birthday present for my wonderful girlfriend @spiky-lesbian who is continuously lovely, kind, strong and supportive and deserves the absolute world. I love you so very much.

Modern AU Vax/Gilmore, bit of smut

For a long, terrifying moment, Vax’ildan had no idea where he was when he woke up. He jerked upright, eyes not adjusted to the darkness, his mind torn between other places, other times.

And then he inhaled and tasted something none of those other darker awakenings had ever had. Salt. Sea air. And behind it, dew on grass, earth in the dawn sunlight.

He was in Marquet.

A small, relieved smile crossed his face.

It was so lovely having it all come back to him. Their wedding. The airplane ride, something Vax had never done before and he’d spent nearly all of the nine hour flight with his nose pressed to the window, entranced by the clouds. Shaun had chuckled fondly at such amazement from a man who could quite literally sprout wings and fly. The sudden gust of heat as they’d stepped outside the airport that had left Vax reeling and Shaun inhaling deeply with the look of a man who was finally home.

That expression had meant more to Vax than nearly all the rest.

Part of the week was going to be spent with Shaun’s parents in their small cottage on the outskirts of the city. But for now, as a wedding present, Percy and Stubby had bought them some time in what was damn near the fanciest hotel Vax had ever set foot in. The allure of ruining those silken sheets had been enough for him to fight off his jet lag for a little longer.

He took one of them now, one of the slightly less ruined ones, and hung it around his shoulders like a fancy robe. The floor was chilly, the already intense morning sun hidden behind heavy drapery, only little puddles in the corners of the room, like thick, golden honey oozing in.

Vax wasn’t worried, he knew where he’d find his new husband.

“Gods above,” he exclaimed sleepily as he slipped past the gauzy curtains and out onto the balcony, “How does everyone here not go blind?”

Sure enough, he got a much less sleepy chuckle in response. A sound that made something inside him that had always felt empty fill up.

“We’re used to the heat out here,” Shaun laughed, wrapping arms around him and letting him bury his face against his chest, left bare by the maroon silk robe he was wearing, “Trust me, by the end of the day you’ll love the sun as much as I do.”

Vex smiled and pressed a kiss to Shaun’s chest, thinking that he already did. Shaun Gilmore was his sun, he had been for years now.

He settled himself into a lounge chair, keeping the blanket draped around him as he thought it might be bad form to sit in full view of an entire city utterly naked. And what a beautiful city it was. All of the buildings were made of gentle pastel coloured stone, no two the same but all knitting together into a beautiful patchwork that led down to the sea. There was no firm divide between the shops and homes and the beach itself, no fence or wall to keep them separate. It was just the streets and then suddenly the sand, both equally as important to the soul of Marquet.

Clearly people here were early risers. The streets were already bustling with fruit vendors and fishwives, children running with heedless, headlong excitement down to the waves, elderly women in bright coloured shawls smiling at them as they went past on their way to one of the many temples and remembering when they too ran with such joy. The morning sun lit up the mosaics pressed into the streets and climbing the larger buildings, tiny squares of richly coloured sea glass and stone forming flowers and lizards and fish and sea beasts, all pointing down towards the waves as if trying to return there.

And someone was playing music. A sweet, soft guitar type instrument sang through the streets, drifting up to where Vax sat. As many times as he’d pictured this place, as many times as his now husband had described it, he’d never imagined anything quite this beautiful.

Shaun was leaning against the railings of the balcony, drinking all of the scene in as eagerly as Vax was, though his expression was one of comfort and familiarity.

“Is it good to be back?” Vax asked gently, though he could see the answer writ on his face.

“It is. None of its changed, it's exactly how I remember,” he murmured, not turning around, gaze still fixed outwards as if he was trying to memorise everything he saw before him.

As if he was already getting ready to say goodbye.

Vax felt a twinge in his chest. Of course he was glad Gilmore had moved to Tal Dorei, he’d never have met him otherwise. But there had always been a soft kind of sadness around him, a gentle grief that was stronger whenever he spoke of Marquet or his parents or how long it had been since he’d last seen them. He knew he was happy in his life now but, still, it angered Vax to think of everything Shaun had been asked to give up to get even a foot in the door.

He wrote his parents letters of course, one every week, as regular as clockwork. But letters were poor substitutes for hugs and gentle touches and each other’s voices, Vax knew that as much as anyone. And while his store was profitable, and growing more so every year, tickets to take you halfway across the world were very expensive, far too much for the Geddmores. Vax had seen Gilmore tucking coins and notes in with his letters before he sealed the envelopes and had heard him sigh in frustration when he received letters in answer and found the money returned, as crisp and new as when he’d sent it.

After their few days here in the capital, they were going on to Shaun’s parents’ house and the prospect filled Vax with equal parts apprehension and excitement. He had in laws, actual in laws! Who had only ever met him in letters and would soon have the chance to see him in all his disastrous, catastrophic glory and judge him and make some measure of the man who’d married their son…

Vax tried not to think about that. He could already see how happy Gilmore was at the idea of seeing his parents, no way was he going to ruin that with his nerves. He could keep his personality in check for a few days, just to see that smile of Shaun’s.

There were very few things Vax wouldn’t do for that smile.

He stood, coming up behind his husband and wrapping his arms around his middle, resting his head between his shoulders, “What would you like to do today? We could sight see, we could go swim down at the beach, we could visit the markets? I want to see all your old haunts from when you were a rebellious punk teenager…”

Shaun laughed just as Vax hoped he would, leaning back in his arms. He loved that laugh, big and bright and booming. Everything about Shaun was big. His voice when he spoke, his gestures, his hands when they held Vax close against him, his hair when Vax would bury his nose in it and inhale the scent of lilies and amber.  

His heart was largest of all, large enough to hold Vax’ildan and all the hurts and tears he’d brought with him and then some.

“Given that I was never anything other than a perfectly obedient young man…” Shaun hummed, turning so he could press Vax against him, lips skating along his jawline, “I think what I’d like to most of all is take you back to bed and make you scream my name a few more times?”

Vax was a little lost for words for a moment. Shaun had always been the only one who could do that to him.

“Uh…yeah. Yeah, that sounds very good…” he mumbled, feeling his cheeks go red, “But I mean…don’t you want to go round the city? It’s been ages since you were last home and…you’ve missed it so much…”

Shaun gave a shrug, eyes tender, “Marquet will always be here. And of course, I’ll always miss it. But you’re my future, Vax’ildan, you’re the home I’ve made for myself. Nothing means more to me than that.”

Vax couldn’t do anything else in response to that but give a soft sigh and pull him down into a fierce kiss. Next thing he knew, he was in Shaun’s arms, the room rushing past them and the silk of the sheets billowing around him as he sank happily into the soft feather bed. Shaun followed quickly, kissing him, wrapping his body around Vax’s protectively until he could see nothing, feel nothing, but his husband.

His makeshift cloak had been left behind on the balcony along with Shaun’s robe so there was nothing between their bodies, nothing to dim the heat of each other. Vax trembled, Shaun’s lips always knew exactly where they were needed, skating across his chest, a deep red blush chasing them.

“Shaun…” Vax gave a wavering moan as his sweet, hot mouth fixed on one nipple and didn’t leave until it was rock hard.

“The toys are in the suitcase, my love,” he panted, “All the way across the room…”

Vax pulled a face. It may as well have been back in Tal Dorei.

“There’s other ways,” Shaun reassured him, grinning delightedly at his wounded expression, “Thanks for making a man feel wanted, mind you.”

“Oh?” Vax flashed him a grin, taking his husband’s hand and guiding it down between his thighs, “Then this should make your whole damn day.”

The noise Shaun made when he felt just how wet the half elf was, enough to already start beading and running down the inside of his wrist, was as golden and precious as the sun outside. And seeing as his fingers were already there, then why not sink two of them slowly into that slick heat, watching Vax’s face tense and twist as he moaned. In answer, he pressed a knee between Shaun’s thighs, bringing a low gasp of relief from his husband as he worked into the friction, bucking his hips in time with his fingers.

The morning sun through the thick drapes turned everything within the room to silhouettes, shadows rocking intensely in the same sweet rhythm, faster and faster. Names were gasped into the gathering heat of the room, moans and cries, pleas and whispered promises.

Shaun came first, rutting against the constant pressure of Vax’s leg until slick ran down the angular slope of his shinbone and glittered diamond in the low light. Though, gods bless him, his fingers never stilled inside the half elf, pressing right down on the sweet spot inside him until he finished ten seconds later. As his orgasm washed over him, Vax could hear the waves on the shoreline.

Shaun rolled onto his back and the two of them lay panting, catching their breath in the ringing silence after they peaked. Soon as he could make his body move again, Vax tucked himself up small against his husband’s side, catching his hand and licking his fingers clean. He chuckled at that, voice raspy and gorgeous the way it got after they’d fucked.

“I like Marquet,” Vax confessed, grinning, tasting himself on his tongue.

“I knew you would,” Shaun returned, kissing him deeply.

Marquet would always be here, with all of its history and days past but the two of them had a lot of memories to add to the vast mosaic of the city.

#vaxilmore #vax'ildan #shaun gilmore #vax/gilmore #vax'ilmore #modern au #smut #trans male characters #critical role #vox machina #cr: vax #cr: gilmore #happy birthday Bailey!