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justatinybunwriting · 6 months

Text

Regret

A part of a miniseries based on a promptober list made by @/Bittykimmy13

This is part 3 of Forlorn

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The cool night's breeze helped to ease the two friends out of the awkward silence they had started off with. After a few instances of clearing their throats, they both spoke at the same time.

"There's something I want to--"

"I have to tell you outright that--"

"...You go first." Richard said.

Jac gave out a deep sigh through her nose before she pulled a piece of paper from her coat. She unfolded it and pushed it in front of the shrunken Wile giant.

"Read." She commanded. "I was going to send this via message, but you saved me the trouble by... getting smaller, heh."

"Hm? What's this?"

"I... don't really have it in me to say these things out loud. So I wrote down my thoughts here."

Richard paused for a second before he carefully looked over the hand written notes, and in no less than a moment's notice his eyes widened upon discerning its contents. Various events from within the past eight or so months began to replay in his mind, though through the lens of the human they went very differently from how he remembered it.

"Wait... What? I thought...?"

Jac flattened her lips as she tried her best to shift her eyes away from her friend. She side glanced towards the musicians who continued to play a gorgeous piece with their fiddles, as Richard continued down the written notes slowly.

"I... didn't know... I, always thought you enjoyed our games..."

"To an extent, yes. But... lately the cat and mouse chases have become, well..."

"Jac, I... You, said yourself that you didn't mind--"

"Of course you always force me to have it your way in the end!" Jac exclaimed. "Your excuse is always 'oh, I can sense that you're only pretending to not want this right now' blah blah! I mean... it's just not as simple as that, okay? Sure I... think about it, positively sometimes. And yet I..."

"Jac...?"

There was a genuine nervous hitch in Richard's voice, which had drained all the confidence Jac had built up to that point.

"I... I just..."

Before long Jac grew quiet, as she felt her old habits tear at her numbingly once more. The strong desire to hold back her feelings in favor of silent acceptance was relentlessly pounding the back of her mind, but she quickly managed to fight the impeding sands that had sought to pull her in. The young woman seized this momentum by shifting priority to her right hand. And with a click of a pen and a rip of a new notebook sheet, she went straight to work.

Jac was internally grateful that Richard was as patient as he was with her on this night. An improvement, she admitted, but none too surprising. She looked up at last towards the shrunken Wile, who appeared perplexed and equally frightened. Not that he would show off the latter outright, his best friend could discern and recognize his body language regardless. She handed over the freshly jotted notes, which Richard accepted with renewed hesitation. His eyes darted side to side in quick succession, until they finally landed at a crucial part.

"So you...?"

But before the Wile could say another word, he double checked what he had just read. And in that moment, his face fell.

"Do you understand now?" Jac uttered. "I used to enjoy the running and the cropping and everything else in between! But after a while..."

"It had become too much... It was, no longer fun..."

Jac nodded.

"I... overdid it?"

Jac nodded again.

"I mean... I like teasing... it's all part of the game! But, I had no idea that that would actually..."

"It's... not the teasing I hate. It's how you've gone about doing it lately that's the issue here... You see..."

Again, she made her case known on paper when her voice failed her. But no matter what format she spoke in, to Richard the message was received just as loud and clear.

"Lately you have a tendency to twist my words to get what you want. This is especially true when..."

The shrunken Wile then paused before he retorted in his own tongue.

"Huh? Push my height around? What does that mean?"

"You... would lift me up in the air and give me no room to leave on my own terms, for one! I can think of a bunch of other examples, but judging by the look on your face, I think you get the idea."

"I..."

Ultimately however, Richard was left without any more words to convey.

"Keep reading." Jac said. "You'll get a better idea what I mean then."

With another long breath, Richard continued down the original notes, as he took in the numerous occasions where Jac's boundaries were loyally crossed. Many fond memories had become shattered under the weight of his renewed understanding, which brought the shrunken Wile into an even deeper pit of despair. His eyes sunk as an unyielding sense of guilt had begun to claw into the sides of his heart. Each revelation caused him to steadily furl into himself, so much so that he was on the verge of falling off of his chair.

Jac understood that look, and felt as though she needed to intervene before he would be swept away by his emotions.

"I know that Wile giants need to chase. Need to crop... it's something that you can't really help. And I was all for helping you... which was, one of the reasons why I didn't say anything at first."

"You... didn't list the graduation party..."

"Huh?"

The fact that night was brought up had caught the human off guard, though she was able to shake off the initial shock relatively quickly.

"Funny you should mention that. To tell you the truth I, honestly enjoyed it that time. The biggest difference then was... was..."

Infuriated by her increasing nerves, Jac kicked an invisible stone before she reached for her pen a third time. Richard's hand was visibly shaking as he accepted this particular set of freshly made notes. He wasn't sure why, but he had already sensed that he wouldn't be ready to swallow the pill that was to come. Nevertheless, he sucked in a breath and braced for impact, for despite everything he endured so far he wanted more than ever to listen and soak in every word. He understood that in order to make things right, he needed to man up.

Another deep sigh followed, before the Wile opened his eyes and read out the rest of her sentence.

"You weren't rough back then... You were gentle, sweet, and caring... before, during, and after our play times... You weren't selfish, and was a lot more considerate about my own needs. And most of all you weren't posses... sive... you weren't controlling...?"

Richard momentarily grew silent before he continued.

"This was the worst of your offenses. Before I even realized it, you have gone so far as to isolate me from my other Wile giant friends. You try your best to cover up your je... je... but you can't hide it from me anymore--"

"Jealousy?" Richard quipped, his voice a shadow of its former self. "Jac! Since when have I..."

The look on Jac's face when he said this forced him to stop midway. The human then proceeded to write on her notepad again, though in the process she stopped and contemplated her options. In a moment's time, she dropped the pen.

"You've changed." Jac spoke flatly. Her nervousness was largely apparent, though she chose to push through. "The Richard I knew... from that time is, different from the one sitting here right now."

"I don't understand..." Richard admitted. "I'm, still me?"

Jac lowered her head. "You may not realize it. But..."

Jac gulped a few times, but numbingly continued to voice her displeasure. The more she spoke, the more her confidence gradually increased.

"Remember when we broke up? You... said to me then, that you were... fine with it. I gave my reason, and you told me that you were in full support of that... But... think about it for a second, Rich! What was the one thing you held me back from doing above everything else? The one thing that, for gawd sakes you told me you never thought about in a romantic sense? And yet every time the mere thought of anyone else giving chase and..."

"And why would they?" Richard cut in. "Why would you even consider letting someone else do tha--"

"You're just proving my point!" Jac exclaimed.

Richard's eyes had shot open, though this time he was clearly vexed. Towards what Jac couldn't tell. Jac sensed that their surrounding might have overheard the anger in her voice, though in truth the background chatters had all but drowned it out. In any case, she drew in another breath and continued to speak in a quieter, yet firm tone.

"Never had I once thought of it in that light, and I never will. But deep down you didn't want anyone else to nom me. That right belonged to you and you alone. Why should it matter, why should you feel such unwarranted envy? Unless..."

Jac took a moment to breath, before finishing her sentence.

"You haven't moved on."

Richard stopped dead on his tracks. He opened his mouth, but no matter how hard he tried, not a single retort, counter nor defense had made its way out. He barely understood why those fours words sent chills through much of his nervous system, yet he could only express guilt ten times the amount as before the further it sunk in.

And with that muted response, mist began to form in Jac's eyes.

"You still love me. In that way... And despite me being very clear back then... when I told you I'm aromantic... you decided... to push through anyway. Against my wishes... I don't know if it's due to frustration... but you started to take it out on me... without even noticing it seems! And I haven't been comfortable since..."

"Jac..."

These words made the shrunken Wile quiver at his very core. Despite being torn apart by them, he chose to let her continue without contest.

"The reason why it's been tough these past few months... was because, subconsciously or not, you chose to satisfy your own desires at my expense! You couldn't get what you wanted from me, so you chose to do all those things... by taking advantage of the fact that I've felt sorry for you! You never thought about how I had felt. Even when you claimed you did... everything was skewed towards how you saw fit. And as a result, you've overstepped my boundaries over... and over again."

Nothing was said for a few minutes as tears began to flow down their faces. Jac took notice of the way the Wile clenched his fists, and she could feel the heat that was starting to seep from his bubbling rage. Her own anger and sadness paved way for a greater sense of fear, and she stumbled a little as she tried to get the rest of her words out.

"It's... my fault too... I should have said something a long time ago... I may have been worse off because I chose to remain silent. I was too scared of... hurting you... and that was dumb on my part. You... never really asked for my opinion anyway... so I thought... it wouldn't have amounted to--"

All of a sudden Richard rose up from his seat. Jac pushed back against her own spontaneously as she readied herself for the inevitable shout, but what came out of his mouth was the last thing she would have expected.

"You were scared of hurting me? But I wounded up hurting you!! How is that better?! How could... I have been so..."

Jac looked up and saw the face of a miserable man, the wrinkles of his brow crumpled up into a hundred knots, his eyes stinging from the hot tears that fell along with his head to the floor. He banged his fists on the tiles, which alerted the attention of staff inside the restaurant. But none of that mattered now.

"I'm so sorry... for everything, Jac... How...? How did I not see this for so long? Why was I... so stupid?! Idiot!! I'm such an idiot!!"

A guttural sound escaped his mouth as he started to physically throw fists in the air. His suit came undone slightly as he continued to bellow profanities at himself. Jac halted security who came to check in, as she dove to be by his side in spite of his increasing ferocity. She watched and waited mere inches from the shrunken giant as his growls and temperament gradually lessened over a good while.

She didn't say this at first, but deep down Jac felt this was the best possible outcome she could have foreseen. She was afraid of the Richard that would snap back, who would fight with every tooth and nail. But this... wasn't him. He wouldn't do that at this delicate moment, she realized. For instead, even in his moderately feral state, she saw a broken down man who thought of himself as a monster. Which made her even more terrible for taking a stand, even though she knew it was right.

Jac held a hand to Richard's back, which caused him to jolt his head up. His eyes were a narrow catlike slit for a split second before he registered his friend's face, his pupils quickly softening to it's former state. It was very apparent to Jac that the Wile was fearful, maybe as much as she was just moments prior. And to that, she could only respond with a humble acknowledgement back. They stared at each other, nearly without blinking, until at last the shrunken Wile finally croaked.

"I'm... appalled at myself... no apology can make up for what I have done..."

"It's a first step..." Jac cried. "And your eyes are open now. It'll take time but... I want to give you another chance."

"...Really...?"

Jac took a moment before she nodded.

"I like you too much, for all the good things. And it... would be wrong of me if I didn't give you a chance... to save this friendship. After you've shown me, that you actually cared to listen..."

"But... I was so toxic to you... worst still, I was too dumb to even... notice..."

"You were... yeah..."

"Then why...?"

"I won't forget all the good. I won't forget the bad either but... if you work on it, and promise me that you will genuinely make the effort to change, then... I don't mind sticking around. And waiting to see the improved Richard for myself."

"Why are you so... willing to accept me back?"

"I don't know! Maybe I'm dumb too. Will you accept that for an answer?"

"...No... Maybe..."

"Good." Jac smiled. "Now then..."

Jac looked back at the empty table just as catering was about to ride into the balcony.

"I think we should try to make the best of tonight. You went through a lot of pain because of me, and I'm sorry for that... So I, want the rest of the night to go well at least."

"Nonono, please! Don't be."

Richard pulled himself up and brushed his coat. He tried to reach out to do the same for Jac, but hesitated at the last moment. Jac realized then that her words had actually come out in her brush with adrenaline, and with her luck that was likely the only time that would ever happen.

Maybe it was fate, weird...

They returned to their seats as silent as a mouse, waiting for the other to speak first. It was Richard who finally broke the monotony.

"I promise... I'll make it up to you. Tonight, and every night after this."

"You don't have to make a big show of it. Just... being you is enough."

"Aside from... that side of me." Richard shuttered.

"Obviously."

The first chuckle came since their discussion began, a welcome feeling to break the tension however brief. Food was far from their minds at this point in time, but they were just relived that the storms that weighed heavily on their shoulders had finally started to lift.

Next Chapter >>

#oc: jac #oc: richard #jac in the beanstalk society #bun does writing #october prompts #promptober #promptober 2023

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istumpysk · 2 years

Text

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

AFFC: The Queenmaker (Arianne I) [Chapter 21]

She's arrived!

Beneath the burning sun of Dorne, wealth was measured as much in water as in gold, so every well was zealously guarded. The well at Shandystone had gone dry a hundred years before, however, and its guardians had departed for some wetter place, abandoning their modest holdfast with its fluted columns and triple arches. Afterward the sands had crept back in to reclaim their own.

I've seen people speculate that improving irrigation in parts of Dorne could feature in the kingdom's endgame, so I suppose we should keep an eye on that.

+.+.+

"My uncle brought me here, with Tyene and Sarella." The memory made Arianne smile. "He caught some vipers and showed Tyene the safest way to milk them for their venom. Sarella turned over rocks, brushed sand off the mosaics, and wanted to know everything there was to know about the people who had lived here."

Ahem.

The best snake sauce had a drop of venom in it, he had heard, along with mustard seeds and dragon peppers. Myrcella had taken to Dornish food as quick as she had to her Dornish prince - The Soiled Knight, AFFC

As far as I know, swallowing snake venom won't kill you, but who knows in The World of Ice and Fire.

+.+.+

"And what did you do, princess?" asked Spotted Sylva.

I sat beside the well and pretended that some robber knight had brought me here to have his way with me, she thought, a tall hard man with black eyes and a widow's peak. The memory made her uneasy. "I dreamed," she said, "and when the sun went down I sat cross-legged at my uncle's feet and begged him for a story."

Do you remember what Oberyn looks like?

Beneath, his face was lined and saturnine, with thin arched brows above large eyes as black and shiny as pools of coal oil. Only a few streaks of silver marred the lustrous black hair that receded from his brow in a widow's peak as sharply pointed as his nose. A salty Dornishmen for certain. - Tyrion V, ASOS

I'm not suggesting she's crushing on her uncle. I'm suggesting women who have positive relationships with father figures tend to be attracted to men who look and/or act like them.

+.+.+

"He told about Prince Garin, I remember, the one that I was named for."

"Garin the Great," offered Drey, "the wonder of the Rhoyne."

"That's the one. He made Valyria tremble."

"They trembled," said Ser Gerold, "then they killed him. If I led a quarter of a million men to death, would they call me Gerold the Great?" He snorted. "I shall remain Darkstar, I think. At least it is mine own."

Who is this ray of sunshine?

+.+.+

Arianne watched him warily. He is highborn enough to make a worthy consort, she thought. Father would question my good sense, but our children would be as beautiful as dragonlords. If there was a handsomer man in Dorne, she did not know him. Ser Gerold Dayne had an aquiline nose, high cheekbones, a strong jaw. He kept his face clean-shaven, but his thick hair fell to his collar like a silver glacier, divided by a streak of midnight black. He has a cruel mouth, though, and a crueler tongue. His eyes seemed black as he sat outlined against the dying sun, sharpening his steel, but she had looked at them from a closer vantage and she knew that they were purple. Dark purple. Dark and angry.

Unreliable narrator Arianne Martell.

I don't care if beauty is subjective, she has to be wrong. Darkstar is almost 30 and unmarried, I'm choosing to believe nobody wants him.

In other news, I find it interesting we're getting a detailed description of a member of House Dayne in this chapter. You'll see.

+.+.+

He must have felt her gaze upon him, for he looked up from his sword, met her eyes, and smiled. Arianne felt heat rushing to her face. I should never have brought him. If he gives me such a look when Arys is here, we will have blood on the sand. Whose, she could not say.

I think I know.

+.+.+

If the sailors could be believed, the east was seething with wonders and terrors: a slave revolt in Astapor, dragons in Qarth, grey plague in Yi Ti. A new corsair king had risen in the Basilisk Isles and raided Tall Trees Town, and in Qohor followers of the red priests had rioted and tried to burn down the Black Goat. "And the Golden Company broke its contract with Myr, just as the Myrmen were about to go to war with Lys."

A slave revolt in Astapor: Yes.

Dragons in Qarth: Yes. Two books ago, but yes.

Grey plague in Yi Ti: Incheresting. Preview? Yes.

A new corsair king had risen in the Basilisk Isles and raided Tall Trees Town: ???

Qohor followers of the red priests had rioted and tried to burn down the Black Goat: Faith Militant, High Sparrow preview?

Golden Company broke its contract with Myr: Yes. Aegon and Daenerys things.

What's the corsair king thing about?

+.+.+

Arianne knew better. If Quentyn has the Golden Company behind him . . . "Beneath the gold the bitter steel," was their cry. You will need bitter steel and more, brother, if you think to set me aside. Arianne was loved in Dorne, Quentyn little known. No company of sellswords could change that.

The implication is that she believes her own father will cut through Dorne with the Golden Company if the Dornish don't comply with his wishes. That's wild. I don't know how things manage to get this fractured.

+.+.+

Ser Gerold rose. "I believe I'll have a piss."

Taking the piss, are you?

+.+.+

"Watch where you set your feet," Drey cautioned. "It has been a while since Prince Oberyn milked the local vipers."

"I was weaned on venom, Dalt. Any viper takes a bite of me will rue it." Ser Gerold vanished through a broken arch.

+.+.+

Arianne left them to their banter. Drey and Spotted Sylva were her dearest friends, aside from her cousin Tyene, and Garin had been teasing her since both of them were drinking from his mother's teats, but just now she was in no mood for japery.

Wow, it's amazing how often I'm being told this!

I have never been as fearless as my cousins, for I was made with weaker seed, but Tyene and I are of an age and have been close as sisters since we were little girls. - The Soiled Knight, AFFC

Someone told, she thought. Someone told. Garin, Drey, and Spotted Sylva were friends of her girlhood, as dear to her as her cousin Tyene. - The Princess in the Tower, AFFC

Instead, she made herself think about the Sand Snakes, Tyene especially. Arianne loved all her bastard cousins, from prickly, hot-tempered Obara to little Loreza, the youngest, only six years old. Tyene had always been the one she loved the most, though; the sweet sister that she never had. - The Princess in the Tower, AFFC

She and Tyene had learned to read together, learned to ride together, learned to dance together. When they were ten Arianne had stolen a flagon of wine, and the two of them had gotten drunk together. They shared meals and beds and jewelry. - The Princess in the Tower, AFFC

So, Tyene is Arianne's favourite cousin and is good with poison. Is there anything else I need to know about her, author?

Tyene. Obara is too loud. Tyene is so sweet and gentle that no man will suspect her. - The Captain of the Guards, AFFC

Excellent, thanks.

+.+.+

She leaned her back against a fluted pillar and wondered if her brother was looking at the same stars tonight, wherever he might be. Do you see the white one, Quentyn? That is Nymeria's star, burning bright, and that milky band behind her, those are ten thousand ships. She burned as bright as any man, and so shall I. You will not rob me of my birthright!

We're back to our regularly scheduled programming.

Nymeria and ships!

+.+.+

My brother is not as clever as he thinks. A clever man would have left from Oldtown, even if it meant a longer voyage. In Oldtown he might have gone unrecognized.

Is this foreshadowing?

+.+.+

"How was your piss?" Arianne inquired archly.

"The sands were duly grateful." Dayne put a foot upon the head of a statue that might have been the Maiden till the sands had scoured her face away.

+.+.+

"It occurred to me as I was pissing that this plan of yours may not yield you what you want."

"And what is it I want, ser?"

"The Sand Snakes freed. Vengeance for Oberyn and Elia. Do I know the song? You want a little taste of lion blood."

That, and my birthright. I want Sunspear, and my father's seat. I want Dorne. "I want justice."

I hear you, I understand you, all I ask is that you use another word.

+.+.+

Ser Gerold drew his sword. It glimmered in the starlight, sharp as lies. "This is how you start a war. Not with a crown of gold, but with a blade of steel."

I am no murderer of children.

Lies, eh?

Red flags, Arianne.

+.+.+

"No, my lady. What I know is that Daynes have been killing Oakhearts for several thousand years."

His arrogance took her breath away. "It seems to me that Oakhearts have been killing Daynes for just as long."

"We all have our family traditions." Darkstar sheathed his sword.

One single sentence forced me to read the entire House Dayne wiki. I am not happy.

+.+.+

"My queen, I am your man." Garin dropped to both knees.

Confused, Myrcella clutched Arys Oakheart by the arm. "Why do they call me Grace?" she asked in a plaintive voice. "Ser Arys, what is this place, and who are they?"

[...]

"Princess Arianne?" The girl threw her arms around her. "Why do they call me queen? Did something bad happen to Tommen?"

"He fell in with evil men, Your Grace," Arianne said, "and I fear they have conspired with him to steal your throne."

Obviously I'm not a big fan of this plot, but I especially don't like how they're talking to her. I would be terrified for my brother if I was hearing this.

+.+.+

Ser Gerold went to one knee. The moonlight shone in his dark eyes as he studied the child coolly.

"There was an Arthur Dayne," Myrcella said. "He was a knight of the Kingsguard in the days of Mad King Aerys."

"He was the Sword of the Morning. He is dead."

"Are you the Sword of the Morning now?"

"No. Men call me Darkstar, and I am of the night."

+.+.+

Beneath his cloak, the knight wore a cloth-of-gold doublet embroidered with the three green oak leaves of his House. On his head was a light steel helm topped by a jagged spike, wound about with a yellow scarf in the Dornish fashion. He might have passed for any knight, but for the cloak. Of shimmering white silk it was, pale as moonlight and airy as a breeze. A Kingsguard cloak beyond all doubt, the gallant fool.

Back in white, ready to be a hero!

Even so, to wear his white cloak openly in the shadow city would be asking for attack. He had brought three with him: two of wool, one light and one heavy, the third of fine white silk. He felt naked without one hanging from his shoulders.

Better naked than dead, he told himself. I am a Kingsguard still, even uncloaked. - The Soiled Knight

+.+.+

That was a shock. "Dead?"

"Murdered by the Imp. The queen has assumed the regency."

"Has she?" A woman on the Iron Throne? Arianne thought about that for a moment and decided it was all to the good. If the lords of the Seven Kingdoms grew accustomed to Queen Cersei's rule, it would be that much easier for them to bend their knees to Queen Myrcella.

I wouldn't count on that happening.

+.+.+

"Good," she said. "And the handmaid? Is she convincing?"

"From a distance. The Imp picked her for this purpose, over many girls of nobler birth. Myrcella helped her curl her hair, and painted the dots on her face herself. They are distant kin. Lannisport teems with Lannys, Lannetts, Lantells, and lesser Lannisters, and half of them have that yellow hair. Dressed in Myrcella's bedrobe with the maester's salve smeared across her face . . . she might even have fooled me, in a dim light.

Is the author suggesting the Pisswater Prince was Aegon's distant kin?

+.+.+

The moon had crowned the Moonmaid as they set out from the dust-dry ruins of Shandystone, striking south and west.

Isn't the sun doing that? Ha!

+.+.+

Nymeria's blood is in me, along with that of Mors Martell, the Dornish lord she married. On the day they wed, Nymeria fired her ships, so her people would understand that there could be no going back. Most were glad to see those flames, for their voyagings had been long and terrible before they came to Dorne, and many and more had been lost to storm, disease, and slavery. There were a few who mourned, however. They did not love this dry red land or its seven-faced god, so they clung to their old ways, hammered boats together from the hulks of the burned ships, and became the orphans of the Greenblood. The Mother in their songs is not our Mother, but Mother Rhoyne, whose waters nourished them from the dawn of days.

Please enjoy this Dornish history.

And also more Nymeria with her ships.

+.+.+

"I'd heard the Rhoynar had some turtle god," said Ser Arys.

"The Old Man of the River is a lesser god," said Garin. "He was born from Mother River too, and fought the Crab King to win dominion over all who dwell beneath the flowing waters."

These gods and their petty feuds with one another.

+.+.+

"I understand you've fought some mighty battles too, Your Grace," said Drey in his most cheerful voice. "It is said you show our brave Prince Trystane no mercy at the cyvasse table."

"He always sets his squares up the same way, with all the mountains in the front and his elephants in the passes," said Myrcella. "So I send my dragon through to eat his elephants."

Let's hope the Golden Company have better military tactics than Trystane Martell.

+.+.+

"Rosamund?" asked Myrcella. "No. I tried to teach her, but she said the rules were too hard."

"She is a Lannister as well?" said Lady Sylva.

"A Lannister of Lannisport, not a Lannister of Casterly Rock. Her hair is the same color as mine, but straight instead of curly. Rosamund doesn't truly favor me, but when she dresses up in my clothes people who don't know us think she's me."

He repeated it.

+.+.+

"Oh, yes. We traded places on the Seaswift, on the way to Braavos. Septa Eglantine put brown dye in my hair. She said we were doing it as a game, but it was meant to keep me safe in case the ship was taken by my uncle Stannis."

Shoutout to Alayne and Young Griff.

+.+.+

Arianne had hoped to reach the river before the sun came up, but they had started much later than she'd planned, so they were still in the saddle when the eastern sky turned red. Darkstar cantered up beside her. "Princess," he said, "I'd set a faster pace, unless you mean to kill the child after all. We have no tents, and by day the sands are cruel."

Is there ulterior motive here? I'm coming up with nothing.

+.+.+

"I know why my princess wears a veil," Ser Arys said as she was fastening it to the temples of her copper helm. "Elsewise her beauty would outshine the sun above."

She had to laugh. "No, your princess wears a veil to keep the glare out of her eyes and the sand out of her mouth. You should do the same, ser." She wondered how long her white knight had been polishing his ponderous gallantry. Ser Arys was pleasant company abed, but wit and he were strangers.

Pretty much exactly how I would react.

+.+.+

In centuries past, many a host had come down from the Prince's Pass with banners streaming, only to wither and broil on the hot red Dornish sands. "The arms of House Martell display the sun and spear, the Dornishman's two favored weapons," the Young Dragon had once written in his boastful Conquest of Dorne, "but of the two, the sun is the more deadly."

Kind of sounds like Doran (sun) and Oberyn (spear).

+.+.+

They stopped to water the horses again, drank deep from their skins and wet their veils, then mounted for the last push. Within half a league they were riding over devilgrass and past olive groves. Beyond a line of stony hills the grass grew greener and more lush, and there were lemon orchards watered by a spider's web of old canals. Garin was the first to spy the river glimmering green. He gave a shout and raced ahead.

Arianne Martell had crossed the Mander once, when she had gone with three of the Sand Snakes to visit Tyene's mother. Compared to that mighty waterway, the Greenblood was scarce worthy of the name of river, yet it remained the life of Dorne.

This is a stupid idea:

In 270 AC, during a visit to Sunspear, he [Aerys II] told the Princess of Dorne that he would "make the Dornish deserts bloom" by digging a great underground canal beneath the mountains to bring water down from the rainwood. - The World of Ice and Fire

But I could see further development of this:

Most of the First Men who chose to remain in Dorne, instead of wandering north in search of sweeter lands, settled close to the banks of the Greenblood, digging canals and ditches to bring its life-giving waters to the trees and crops they planted. - The World of Ice and Fire

Don't ask me why I've suddenly become invested in this.

+.+.+

Arianne saw no orphans. Where is her crew? she wondered.

Garin reined up beneath the willow. "Wake up, you fish-eyed lagabeds," he called as he leapt down from the saddle. "Your queen is here, and wants her royal welcome. Come up, come out, we'll have some songs and sweetwine. My mouth is set for—"

The door on the poleboat slammed open. Out into the sunlight stepped Areo Hotah, longaxe in hand.

+.+.+

Hotah thumped the butt of his longaxe upon the deck. Behind the ornate rails of the poleboat, a dozen guardsmen rose, armed with throwing spears or crossbows. Still more appeared atop the cabin. "Yield, my princess," the captain called, "else we must slay all but the child and yourself, by your father's word."

Princess Myrcella sat motionless upon her mount. Garin backed slowly from the poleboat, his hands in the air. Drey unbuckled his swordbelt. "Yielding seems the wisest course," he called to Arianne, as his sword thumped to the ground.

Thank god, cooler heads are prevailing.

+.+.+

"No!" Ser Arys Oakheart put his horse between Arianne and the crossbows, his blade shining silver in his hand. He had unslung his shield and slipped his left arm through the straps. "You will not take her whilst I still draw breath."

[...]

Ser Arys Oakheart gave her one last longing look, then put his golden spurs into his horse and charged.

. . .

+.+.+

Arianne Martell had never seen anything half so gallant, or half so stupid. "Noooo," she shrieked, but she had found her tongue too late. A crossbow thrummed, then another. Hotah bellowed a command. At such close range, the white knight's armor had as well been made of parchment. The first bolt punched right through his heavy oaken shield, pinning it to his shoulder. The second grazed his temple. A thrown spear took Ser Arys's mount in the flank, yet still the horse came on, staggering as he hit the gangplank. "No," some girl was shouting, some foolish little girl, "no, please, this was not supposed to happen." She could hear Myrcella shrieking too, her voice shrill with fear.

[...]

He even managed to keep hold of his sword. He struggled to his knees beside his dying horse . . .

. . . and found Areo Hotah standing over him.

The white knight raised his blade, too slowly. Hotah's longaxe took his right arm off at the shoulder, spun away spraying blood, and came flashing back again in a terrible two-handed slash that removed the head of Arys Oakheart and sent it spinning through the air. It landed amongst the reeds, and the Greenblood swallowed the red with a soft splash.

Arys Oakheart was courteous, and would talk to her cordially. Once he even objected when Joffrey commanded him to hit her. He did hit her in the end, but not hard as Ser Meryn or Ser Boros might have, and at least he had argued. - Sansa I, ACOK

In all fairness to Arys Oakheart (ew), hearing all those stories of disgraced Kingsguard probably influenced his decision-making here.

+.+.+

Arianne did not remember climbing from her horse. Perhaps she'd fallen. She did not remember that either. Yet she found herself on her hands and feet in the sand, shaking and sobbing and retching up her supper. No, was all that she could think, no, no one was to be hurt, it was all planned, I was so careful.

Hang on! It's not over yet.

+.+.+

She heard Areo Hotah roar, "After him. He must not escape. After him!" Myrcella was on the ground, wailing, shaking, her pale face in her hands, blood streaming through her fingers. Arianne did not understand. Men were scrambling onto horses whilst others swarmed over her and her companions, but none of it made sense. She had fallen into a dream, some terrible red nightmare. This cannot be real. I will wake soon, and laugh at my night terrors.

There goes the Maiden's face. . . I'm sorry.

The good news is, I don't think George is going to be merciful when it comes to Darkstar.

+.+.+

"The prince said I must bring you back to Sunspear," he announced. His cheeks and brow were freckled with the blood of Arys Oakheart. "I am sorry, little princess."

Arianne raised a tear-streaked face. "How could he know?" she asked the captain. "I was so careful. How could he know?"

"Someone told." Hotah shrugged. "Someone always tells."

Knowing Doran Martell we'll never be told how he found out.

"I am three-and-twenty, for seven years a woman grown."

"I know. If I kept you ignorant too long, it was only to protect you. Arianne, your nature . . . to you, a secret was only a choice tale to whisper to Garin and Tyene in your bed of a night. Garin gossips as only the orphans can, and Tyene keeps nothing from Obara and the Lady Nym. And if they knew . . . Obara is too fond of wine, and Nym is too close to the Fowler twins. And who might the Fowler twins confide in? I could not take the risk." - The Princess in the Tower, AFFC

Final thoughts:

I know what's happening, and I still find the last few pages of this chapter difficult to follow.

-> return to menu <-

#operation stumpy re-read #affc #the queenmaker #arianne i

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dailyanneofgreengables · 2 years

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Chapter 2: Matthew Cuthbert is Surprised (part 3)

“I guess you’re feeling pretty tired and hungry,” Matthew ventured to say at last, accounting for her long visitation of dumbness with the only reason he could think of. “But we haven’t very far to go now—only another mile.”

She came out of her reverie with a deep sigh and looked at him with the dreamy gaze of a soul that had been wondering afar, star-led.

“Oh, Mr. Cuthbert,” she whispered, “that place we came through—that white place—what was it?”

“Well now, you must mean the Avenue,” said Matthew after a few moments’ profound reflection. “It is a kind of pretty place.”

“Pretty? Oh, pretty doesn’t seem the right word to use. Nor beautiful, either. They don’t go far enough. Oh, it was wonderful—wonderful. It’s the first thing I ever saw that couldn’t be improved upon by imagination. It just satisfies me here”—she put one hand on her breast—“it made a queer funny ache and yet it was a pleasant ache. Did you ever have an ache like that, Mr. Cuthbert?”

“Well now, I just can’t recollect that I ever had.”

“I have it lots of time—whenever I see anything royally beautiful. But they shouldn’t call that lovely place the Avenue. There is no meaning in a name like that. They should call it—let me see—the White Way of Delight. Isn’t that a nice imaginative name? When I don’t like the name of a place or a person I always imagine a new one and always think of them so. There was a girl at the asylum whose name was Hepzibah Jenkins, but I always imagined her as Rosalia DeVere. Other people may call that place the Avenue, but I shall always call it the White Way of Delight. Have we really only another mile to go before we get home? I’m glad and I’m sorry. I’m sorry because this drive has been so pleasant and I’m always sorry when pleasant things end. Something still pleasanter may come after, but you can never be sure. And it’s so often the case that it isn’t pleasanter. That has been my experience anyhow. But I’m glad to think of getting home. You see, I’ve never had a real home since I can remember. It gives me that pleasant ache again just to think of coming to a really truly home. Oh, isn’t that pretty!”

They had driven over the crest of a hill. Below them was a pond, looking almost like a river so long and winding was it. A bridge spanned it midway and from there to its lower end, where an amber-hued belt of sand-hills shut it in from the dark blue gulf beyond, the water was a glory of many shifting hues—the most spiritual shadings of crocus and rose and ethereal green, with other elusive tintings for which no name has ever been found. Above the bridge the pond ran up into fringing groves of fir and maple and lay all darkly translucent in their wavering shadows. Here and there a wild plum leaned out from the bank like a white-clad girl tip-toeing to her own reflection. From the marsh at the head of the pond came the clear, mournfully-sweet chorus of the frogs. There was a little gray house peering around a white apple orchard on a slope beyond and, although it was not yet quite dark, a light was shining from one of its windows.

“That’s Barry’s pond,” said Matthew.

“Oh, I don’t like that name, either. I shall call it—let me see—the Lake of Shining Waters. Yes, that is the right name for it. I know because of the thrill. When I hit on a name that suits exactly it gives me a thrill. Do things ever give you a thrill?”

Matthew ruminated.

“Well now, yes. It always kind of gives me a thrill to see them ugly white grubs that spade up in the cucumber beds. I hate the look of them.”

“Oh, I don’t think that can be exactly the same kind of a thrill. Do you think it can? There doesn’t seem to be much connection between grubs and lakes of shining waters, does there? But why do other people call it Barry’s pond?”

“I reckon because Mr. Barry lives up there in that house. Orchard Slope’s the name of his place. If it wasn’t for that big bush behind it you could see Green Gables from here. But we have to go over the bridge and round by the road, so it’s near half a mile further.”

“Has Mr. Barry any little girls? Well, not so very little either—about my size.”

“He’s got one about eleven. Her name is Diana.”

“Oh!” with a long indrawing of breath. “What a perfectly lovely name!”

“Well now, I dunno. There’s something dreadful heathenish about it, seems to me. I’d ruther Jane or Mary or some sensible name like that. But when Diana was born there was a schoolmaster boarding there and they gave him the naming of her and he called her Diana.”

“I wish there had been a schoolmaster like that around when I was born, then. Oh, here we are at the bridge. I’m going to shut my eyes tight. I’m always afraid going over bridges. I can’t help imagining that perhaps just as we get to the middle, they’ll crumple up like a jack-knife and nip us. So I shut my eyes. But I always have to open them for all when I think we’re getting near the middle. Because, you see, if the bridge did crumple up I’d want to see it crumple. What a jolly rumble it makes! I always like the rumble part of it. Isn’t it splendid there are so many things to like in this world? There we’re over. Now I’ll look back. Good night, dear Lake of Shining Waters. I always say good night to the things I love, just as I would to people. I think they like it. That water looks as if it was smiling at me.”

When they had driven up the further hill and around a corner Matthew said:

“We’re pretty near home now. That’s Green Gables over—”

“Oh, don’t tell me,” she interrupted breathlessly, catching at his partially raised arm and shutting her eyes that she might not see his gesture. “Let me guess. I’m sure I’ll guess right.”

She opened her eyes and looked about her. They were on the crest of a hill. The sun had set some time since, but the landscape was still clear in the mellow afterlight. To the west a dark church spire rose up against a marigold sky. Below was a little valley and beyond a long, gently-rising slope with snug farmsteads scattered along it. From one to another the child’s eyes darted, eager and wistful. At last they lingered on one away to the left, far back from the road, dimly white with blossoming trees in the twilight of the surrounding woods. Over it, in the stainless southwest sky, a great crystal-white star was shining like a lamp of guidance and promise.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” she said, pointing.

Matthew slapped the reins on the sorrel’s back delightedly.

“Well now, you’ve guessed it! But I reckon Mrs. Spencer described it so’s you could tell.”

“No, she didn’t—really she didn’t. All she said might just as well have been about most of those other places. I hadn’t any real idea what it looked like. But just as soon as I saw it I felt it was home. Oh, it seems as if I must be in a dream. Do you know, my arm must be black and blue from the elbow up, for I’ve pinched myself so many times today. Every little while a horrible sickening feeling would come over me and I’d be so afraid it was all a dream. Then I’d pinch myself to see if it was real—until suddenly I remembered that even supposing it was only a dream I’d better go on dreaming as long as I could; so I stopped pinching. But it is real and we’re nearly home.”

With a sigh of rapture she relapsed into silence. Matthew stirred uneasily. He felt glad that it would be Marilla and not he who would have to tell this waif of the world that the home she longed for was not to be hers after all. They drove over Lynde’s Hollow, where it was already quite dark, but not so dark that Mrs. Rachel could not see them from her window vantage, and up the hill and into the long lane of Green Gables. By the time they arrived at the house Matthew was shrinking from the approaching revelation with an energy he did not understand. It was not of Marilla or himself he was thinking or of the trouble this mistake was probably going to make for them, but of the child’s disappointment. When he thought of that rapt light being quenched in her eyes he had an uncomfortable feeling that he was going to assist at murdering something—much the same feeling that came over him when he had to kill a lamb or calf or any other innocent little creature.

The yard was quite dark as they turned into it and the poplar leaves were rustling silkily all round it.

“Listen to the trees talking in their sleep,” she whispered, as he lifted her to the ground. “What nice dreams they must have!”

Then, holding tightly to the carpet-bag which contained “all her worldly goods,” she followed him into the house.

#chapter 2 #2.3 #anne of green gables #anne of green gables daily #anne daily

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bleachanimefan1 · 19 days

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Desert Flower Part 28

The Hidden Sand Village,

The Sand and Sound ninjas retreated after the failed mission to destroy the Hidden Leaf Village. The Third Hokage stopped Orochimaru by sealing his arms, with a Reaper Death Seal, so the shinobi could no longer perform any jutsu. But...at the cost of his life to do so. The very next day, darkness fell upon the Leaf Village as it rained down from the heavens above. Every Leaf Shinobi showed up for the Third's funeral, placing a white flower on his coffin. Yuri walked over and placed one and walked back over to Naruto, who was lost in deep thought, saddened by the news that the Third had fallen. Konohamaru was standing beside Naruto with Iruka sensei, crying for his grandfather.

"Iruka sensei, why do people risk their lives for the sake of others?" Naruto asked.

"When a person dies, they pass away. Along with their past, current life and their future. Many people die on missions or through war. And when they die, it happens surprisingly quick. Hayate is one such example. Those who die have dreams and goals, but they all have something else just as important. Parents, Siblings, friends, their fellow villagers, people who are important to them. Bonds form between them and those who are precious to them from the time they are born, through trusting and helping each other. These strings connect them and as time passes, they grow thicker and stronger. There is no logic or reason to it! People just do things like that because they have something precious to protect."

"He did it to protect everyone and the future of the village." Yuri spoke.

"Yeah, I think I'm starting to get it now." Naruto spoke. "But it's painful to die, too."

"The Third didn't die in vain. He did leave us all something important." Kakashi spoke. Naruto blinked.

"Don't worry, you'll understand, eventually."

"Hey, give me some credit-I understand!" Naruto smiled.

A few days had gone by, Naruto told Yuri that he and Sasuke were attacked by two strange intruders, one was a fishman and the other looked similar to Sasuke, who were looking for Naruto for some reason. Naruto mentioned that Sasuke was focused on one man that looked similar to him. The man managed to knock Sasuke out with ease, barely using his chakra. At the last second, his mentor, Jiraya, managed to drive them off. Yuri couldn't help but worry. Who were these people? And why were they after Naruto?

Then to her surprise, Naruto told Yuri that he was going to resume his training under Jiraya to get stronger. And also, they were going to go look for someone name Tsunade, in hopes that she could be the new Hokage.

Three weeks had gone by and the village had gotten very boring since Naruto left. Yuri sighed as she laid on her bed, wondering what to do. She had already visited Lee at the hospital several times. Even though he told her that he was improving, Yuri knew that he was lying. She didn't want to crush his dreams, but how can he get better?

Then her thoughts began to drift wandering how Gaara, Temari, and Kankuro were doing.

Word had got out that the Sand had suffered casualties as well. The Kazekage had been murdered by Orochimaru, who was impersonating the village's leader the entire time. Their father was dead, and the Hidden Sand Village was leaderless as well. Yuri heard a knock and Yukina came into her room. Yuri sat up.

"Do you want to go to the Sand Village?" Yuri asked Yukina. Yukina's eyes widen in surprise and made a gesture for something to write with. Yuri reached into her dresser beside her bed and opened the drawer, pulling out a pad and a pen. Yukina took them from her.

"Are you sure that is wise? Going to an enemy village that betrayed the Leaf a few weeks ago?"

"It's still my home. And the Sand, isn't exactly at fault. They were desperate, considering their country resources is doing poorly because of the Land of the Wind's Daimyo. It was all Orochimaru's doing from the start. He used their weakness against them and lied to them. Plus, I want to see how the others are doing." Yuri told her.

"By "others", you mean those three Sand ninjas?" Yukina asked her.

"Yes. They were old friends of mine before I left." Yuri told her.

"Let's do it! Also, I've never seen The Hidden Sand Village before. I want to see where you were from!" Yukina smiled.

"Let's go tell mom and dad and start making plans. I think a week should be enough time to stay there." Yuri replied and she got up and left her room with Yukina. The two told Yuri's father and mother about visiting the Sand Village for about a week. Her parents were hesitant, especially her mother, but they both decided that it was fine. Yuri and Yukina packed a few of their things and got their passports approved for travel. Yukina met Yuri, seeing her standing by the village gates and walked over to her.

"You said that we are staying for a week, but don't it take three days to get to the Hidden Sand Village from the Leaf?"

"I have my ways." Yuri smiled. She bit her thumb and placed her hand on the ground, summoning Sakishima. The large lizard appeared in a cloud of smoke and looked down at the two girls. Yukina quickly hid behind Yuri, not liking how the lizard was eyeing her with a hungry look.

"Sakishima, she is a friend, not food. You can't eat her." Yuri told him. She climbed up on top the lizard's back and helped Yukina, pulling her up. "With him, we should be able to get to the Sand Village in a about a day in a half." She smiled.

The two girls rode on Sakishima and he carried them until they reached the desert. Yuri sighed, feeling the warm sun on her skin, enjoying it. Then she nudged Yukina, waking her up, letting her know that they had arrived.

"Hey, we're here! Wake up!" She smiled. Yukina blinked, feeling the hot sun on her skin and every now and then a few grains of sand blew into her eyes and mouth. How can anyone live here!?

Yuri reached into her bag and pulled out a scarf handing to Yukina. "Here. This should help with the sand." Yukina took it from her and wrapped it around her neck and pulled it up to shield her nose and mouth. Yuri did the same and the two continued until they saw a cleft in between to two large cliffs.

"We should let Sakishima return back." Yuri hopped down and so did Yukina and the lizard poofed as he returned back to his home. Yuri and Yukina headed over toward the crevice and saw a few guards outside the village. They grew tense when they saw Yuri and Yukina when they approached them.

"State your business!" One of the sand shinobi demanded.

"Relax. We're here on vacation. Here are our passports as proof." Yuri told them and showed them the paperwork.

"They seem to be in order." One of the murmured.

"They're ninjas from the Hidden Leaf. How do we know they aren't spies? They're probably here for revenge. I don't trust them." The second one questioned, whispering. The two turned back, only to find that Yuri and Yukina had already left, heading into the village.

"Hey! Wait!"

From inside the crater of the cliffs, Yuri and Yukina saw multiple buildings made out of clay and stucco and one large, rounded building in the center.

"Home sweet home." Yuri smiled and saw several villagers outside, walking in the streets. Some were sweeping the sand out of their homes and shops. A few cats were lying around, bathing in the sun. Kids bouncing and kicking a ball around. Then Yuri saw three people, who were heading towards a shop, recognizing them immediately.

"Hey! Gaara! Temari! Kankuro!" She shouted. The three siblings' eyes widen in shock, seeing Yuri and Yukina in front of them and the two started to walk over to them. The three of them were wearing black body suits, while Temari wore a long skirt.

"Yuri?" Temari sputtered. "Why are you here?"

"Wow. Nice to see you too. And we came all this way to see you guys." Yuri spoke. Then the two sand shinobi, that were guarding the entrance, appeared behind Yuri and Yukina, grabbing them from behind.

"Hey! Let us go!" Yuri shouted.

"You haven't been cleared-"

"What's the problem?" Gaara asked. The two sand ninjas grew tense when they heard Gaara's voice and their eyes widen in fear once they saw him.

"T-They snuck into the village!"

"That's not true! We have the paperwork! I told them that we're on vacation! These idiots refuse to let us in!" Yuri shouted.

"I can vouch for her. She's harmless...most of the time." Temari told them.

"And the other?" The second shinobi asked.

"She is my sister." Yuri told them.

"Release them." Gaara told the two ninjas. They immediately let Yuri and Yukina go and backed away.

"Just go back to your patrols, like you're supposed to being doing right now." Kankuro told the two. The two ninjas flinched.

"S-Sorry." And the two walked away. Gaara looked back at Yuri.

"You're on vacation?" He asked.

Yuri noticed that his eyes had changed. They no longer had the murderous intent and lust for blood anymore. They were now softer, calmer, and still had a sense of loneliness. But they were still beautiful when she first laid eyes on them. Yuri smiled and nodded.

"Yeah! We're here for one week. The Leaf Village gotten a little boring since Naruto left for a bit, apparently training." Yuri told them. "I was hoping to hang out with you guys."

"So, where are you two planning on staying at?" Kankuro asked, earning an elbow to the ribs from Temari.

"Idiot, what do you think? They're going to be staying with us!" Temari exclaimed.

"A-Are you sure that it's not too much trouble? I mean, we can find an inn to stay at." Yuri said, surprised.

"It's fine. We have plenty of rooms. Plus, I want to catch up with you. It's been a long time since you've back here and we didn't get to talk during the Chunin Exams." Temari told her.

"We insist." Gaara said, softly. Yuri smiled and Yukina grabbed her hand.

"Lead the way."

#fanfiction #read more #naruto #gaara #temari #kankuro #naruto oc #naruto anime #naruto manga #naruto fanfiction

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z3norear · 4 months

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THE GOD MEMORANDUM

TO: YOU

FROM: GOD

V11.

Be patient with your progress. To count your blessings with gratitude, to proclaim your rarity with pride, to go an extra mile and then another, these acts are not accomplished in the blinking of an eye. Yet, that which you acquire with most difficulty you retain the longest; as those who have earned a fortune are more careful of it than those by whom it was inherited.

And fear not as you enter your new life. Every noble acquisitions intended with its risks. He who fears to encounter the one must not expect to obtain the other. Now you know you are a miracle. And there is no fear in a miracle.

Be proud. You are not the momentary whim of a careless creator experimenting in the laboratory of life. You are not a slave of forces that you cannot comprehend. You are a free manifestation of no force but mine, of no love but mine. You were made with a purpose.

Feel my hand. Hear my words.

You need me...and I need you.

We have a World to rebuild... and if it requireth a miracle what is that to us? We are both miracles and now we have each other.

Never have I lost faith in you since that day when I first spun you from a giant wave and tossed you helplessly on the sands. As you measure time that was more than five hundred million years ago. There were many models, many shapes, many sizes, before I reached perfectionism you more than thirty thousand years ago.i have made no further effort to improve on you in all these years.

For how could one improve on a miracle? You were a marvel to beholdand I was pleased.i gave you this World and dominion over it. Then, to enable you to reach your full potential I placed My Hand upon you, once more, and endowed you with powers unknown to my other creature in the Universe even unto this day. I gave you the power to think.

I gave you the power to love.

I gave you the power to will.

I gave you the power to laugh.

I gave you the power to imagine.

I gave you the power to create.

I gave you the power to plan.

I gave you the power to speak.

I gave you the power to pray.

My pride in you knew no bounds. You were my ultimate creation, my greatest miracle. A Complete living being. One Who can adjust to any climate, any hardship, any challenge. One Who can manage his own destiny without any interference from me. One Who can translate a sensation or perception, not by instinct, but by thought and deliberation into whatever action is best for himself and all humanity.

Thus we come to the fourth law of success and happiness... for I gave you one more power, a power so great that not even my angels possess it.

I gave you...the power to choose.

With this gift I placed you even above my angels...for angels are not free to choose sin. I gave you complete control over your destiny. I told you to determine, for yourself, your own nature in accordance with your own free will. Neither heavenly nor earthly in nature, you were free to fashion yourself in whatever form you preferred. You had the power to choose to degenerate into the lowest form of life, but you also had the power, out of your souls judgment, to be reborn into the higher forms, which are divine. I have never withdrawn your great power, the power to choose.

What have you done with this tremendous force? Look at yourself. Think of the choices you have made in your life and recall, now, those bitter moments when you would fall to your knees if only you had the opportunity to choose again.

What is past is past...and now you know the fourth great law of happiness and Success... Use wisely your power of choice.

Choose to love... rather than hate.

Choose to laugh... rather than cry.

Choose to create... rather than destroy.

Choose to persevere ... rather than quit.

Choose to praise... rather than gossip.

Choose to heal...rather than wound.

Choose to give ... rather than steal.

Choose to act... rather than procrastinate.

Choose to grow... rather than rot.

Choose to pray... rather than curse.

Choose to live ... rather than die.

Now you know that your misfortune were not my will, for all power was vested in you, and the accumulation of deeds and thoughts which placed you on the refuse of humanity were your doing, not mine. okay gifts of power were too large for your small nature. Now you have grown tall and wise and the fruits of the land will be yours.

You are more than a human being, you are a human becoming.

#the greatestmiracleintheworld

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rosenberglundqvist · 2 years

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Bbc Way Of Life Highlights February 2022

Beloved safta..never met u and can quickly be safta myself..we honor y ..... Still miss you deeply prefer it w ..... Wife of Nahum Bloch, Mother of san ..... A beautiful soul isn't ever forgotten. Missing you Dad will at all times love you and thinking about you all of the ..... We love and miss you with our all - always in our hearts..... My great grandad was essentially the most superb man ever and shall be actually mis ..... Hi mom, I wish i was around to spend more time with you. Your grandson would have beloved you madly, and you hi ..... In 1997 George and his son Bernard Salomon sold their shares to adidas, who finally decided to only maintain the golf business and sold the rest to Amer Sports. Ispo China 2011 stories 60% improve in exhibit space compared to last year, and will be held within the China National Convention Centre in Beijing March 2011. Several new worldwide manufacturers might be exhibiting and a new Fashion Trend Area shall be integrated into the present in co-operation with a Chinese fashion magazine. Together with the Wearable Tehnology Area, this new sector will present commerce present guests with a complete overview of future trends. The Department Store Tour will be expanded to allow networking between Chinese department store managers and exhibitors for future cooperation. South African Raynard Tissink, sponsored by GU and Puma, gained 5th place at the Ironman World Championships held in Kona, Hawaii earlier this month. The Ironman World Championships had a swim start; followed by the biking leg, coated at an average velocity of forty two.5km/h, and a future in temperatures that reached forty eight degrees C. Tissink’s time of 8h20m11s would have been ok for first place last year. Ninety top athletes took up the second Southern Storm Duathlon problem, presented by Hi-Tec and Plettenberg Bay Tourism, on 2 October. Hi-Tec sponsored Iain Don-Wauchope was the general winner and Jeannie Bomford was the woman’s winner. Mrs Waynik, I solely came upon at present of your passing, could your soul rest in peace. Dearest daddy - I love and miss you every day. Every day I am reminded in some small means of you Lois. dr gregory hough south africa He stresses that art is not merely a human fabrication but is a 'function of the human thoughts that God himself placed in our lives' . It 'can't be something however a present of God' . Here he develops the notion that artwork is a present of God that shows itself in an ability, which portrays beauty and could be loved by all. The genesis of the state he places at Babel. This marked the division into of a united human race into separate components. Brand managers and representatives frolicked with retailers to showcase their respective collections, which was very nicely recieved. Bronx has just lately launched a new print advertising campaign referred to as "Transform your look" that includes Vincent Ntunja to advertise their newest sneaker range. The commercial showcases the ambassador at various moments that may type a part of the target market's every day lives. World-renowned journey racers Ryan Sandes and Tatum Prins shared their expertise with the children, who additionally received headlamps from Black Diamond, shoes and package from Salomon and Velocity Sports and watches and bands from Imazine. Emperors Palace and Kia Motors made the Guinness World Records when they confirmed off the largest soccer ball on the earth.

#dr gregory hough south africa #dr greg hough south africa #dr gregory #dr greg hough #greg hough #gregory hough #dr gregory images #dr greg hough images #dr gregory facebook #dr greg hough facebook

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vilhelios · 3 years

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—; & IN THE OCEAN, I HEARD A HEARTBEAT

general relationship headcanons for vyn! p.s. this is very long and word-dumpy and i honestly would make a second part to this but i hope you enjoy it!

— vyn runs at a lower body temperature than most. you forget this, sometimes – how could you not, when around you, everything about him spoke of warmth and softness – and are sorely reminded by just how frigid his fingertips are when he retires from his study for the night.

in an act that comes as second nature, you take his hand in both of yours, warm palms against his cold skin. "is that better?" you murmur, wrapping his fingers into your own, and a small smile creeps onto your face when vyn hums in content.

— his favourite terms of endearment for you are probably quite expected of him; love, dearest, sweetheart, and darling. he's also prone to calling you a flower that he deems worthy of you, such as "my rose," or "my sunflower."

— kisses from vyn are always soft and sweet, tooth-rottingly so. most times, he tastes of tea and a hint of sugar. there's a little twinkle in his eye whenever he cups your face in his hands and presses his forehead against yours – and you think you see a hint of pride in those eyes when you grow flustered. butterfly kisses against your skin are commonplace on tender mornings, giggles leaving the both of you between each one.

your mind focuses on everything and nothing all at once. you're acutely aware of how close he is, how he smells of sun-soaked, fresh laundry, and faintly of flowers. his thumb idly brushes against the skin of your cheek, and with a gentle voice and smile that kickstarts your heart, he murmurs; "may i kiss you?"

— vyn writes love letters to you. it's something he does when he finds the free time in his office at either the research centre or stellis university. he doesn't always give them to you - perfectly content with having his admiration manifested as ink and then hidden away - but when he does, he slips them into the packed lunch he's made for you, or tucked into that bouquet of sunflowers he bought from stellis' best florist. they aren't very long, but they're always sweet, and he always signs them with an "i am only ever yours."

— sometimes, on those quaint mornings where he wakes up earlier than you do, vyn richter prays. it's half-hearted and merely a ghost of a childhood habit, but it's still a prayer of some sort. for the first time in years, he thanks this being greater than himself for the things he has been given. (the honour of meeting and loving you, the ability to heal and help people, this new name that he can do some good with.)

and when you wake up, you stare at him in silence until his eyes flutter open again and he unclasps his hands. "i never took you for a religious man." you say, as he turns to look at you. "you'd be right." he sighs, "just something long overdue, is all."

— there are many things of this world that can make vyn richter genuinely happy. he's happy when his patients at giannovyn show signs of improvement, when his new rose bush finally starts blooming, and when a new case goes as smoothly as could be. these little joys pale in comparison, however, to the warmth and content in vyn's chest when he sees you eat and rest well!

— when you have trouble sleeping, your loveliest psychiatrist is ready to read you poems to lull you to sleep. sometimes, he recites one that he knows by heart, running his fingers through your hair. you can feel the rumbling of vyn's chest as you lay against him, his voice coaxing you into the realm of the dreaming.

"–the lone and level sands stretch far away." vyn murmurs, a small smile dances upon his lips as he watches the gentle rise and fall of your chest. "asleep already..." carefully, he tucks the both of you under the covers with a kiss to your forehead. "rest well, love."

#vyn richter x reader #tears of themis #tears of themis headcanons #tears of themis imagines #vyn richter

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strawberry-jammers · 3 years

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I underestimated you

this is for @helliontherapscallion ‘s 2k followers event ! (which congrates on that btw, well deserved. your fics are amazing!) and i found it kinda fun to do!

an x reader where tommy and the reader need to get something from the blade, so they ask wilbur to help out

The other fic I did for this event what did you three do

masterlist

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(y/n) walked down the prime path, examining the area around them. They turned to Tommy, who was walking with them, constantly writing in his book. “Tommy, hun, what are you doing? I thought you were illiterate.” he nodded his head. “uh uh.” (y/n) stopped walking, staring at the much taller male. “Your gay.” Tommy turned to them. “Thank you.'' Tommy says, turning right back to his book.

“Oh good, you were listening, anyway whatcha doing?'' Tommy furiously wrote, once finished, he put the pen in the middle of the book and slammed it shut. He looks over at (y/n), smiling widely. “You know how we’ve been trying to get that axe back from techno??” (y/n) nodded, remembering the axe they had left at technos and could never get back. “Well,” tommy shoved the book in their face, “i have a plan!” (y/n) looked up at the tall man, slowly. “Oh, god help us all...okay, what's the plan.” They look down, reading tommys horrible handwritten plan. “You can't write to save your life. Anyways, tommy this plans shit.”

Tommy takes back his plan book, angrily. “What do you mean! It's a great plan!” they shook their head. “Tommy, it literally only says ‘go into his house, distract the blade, steal his shit’ yeah yeah, great plan toms.” they say, continuing their way threw the prime path. Tommy chased after them, “hey hey wait! It worked really well when i lived under his house-” “tommy i couldve came up with it myself. Besides, he keeps the axe on his person cause he knows i want it back, and i cant get it when he hibernates cause philza watches over it. This is why i need a plan, a good plan.”

The next day, Tommy came over to (y/n)’s house early in the morning to show them his plan.

“Tommy, what the fuck are you doing here this early in the morning!?” Tommy was basically buzzing in excitement. “Ugh, come in come in.” they say, gesturing for Tommy to get into their house. Tommy basically runs into their house, (y/n) closing the door behind them. They walk into the kitchen as Tommy sits down in the living room, still buzzing.

“What are you doing in there!? Come on, come on!!” (y/n) just sighs, grabbing a cup and pouring themself a cup of water. “You woke me up at an ungodly hour of the day, you're gonna have to wait a second bitch.” they say, taking their cup and sipping it as they walk into the living room. They sat across from Tommy in an armchair as Tommy sat on the couch.

“What is it you needed tommy tom?” they say, putting their cup down. “Ew don't call me that. Anyways, I wanted to show you the new plan I've made!” he says, walking over to (y/n)’s arm chair and showing them the book. They take it, reading threw the plan.

“Huh. this could work… do you know if he’s hibernating now?” (y/n) asked, turning to the blonde. He nodded. “Haven't seen him in chat for weeks. Even jumped from a tall height to test it, didn't say a word.” they nodded, smiling. “Well then, call wilbur up. Lets get started!”

Later that day, they called up Wilbur to see if he would help them out, fortunately, he agreed.

“So, what am i doing again?'' Wilbur asks, sitting down in (y/n)’s living room. “If philza shows up, you're gonna be there to distract him. Just say you're there to see him and techno to catch up since you've been dead for a while.” (y/n) said, standing next to tommy. Wilbur nodded, thinking. “Should be easy enough on my part. Anything else you need of me?”

Tommy spoke up. “You’re gonna need to fight them if things get rough. (y/n) and I need to get the axe out of the house as fast as possible.” Wilbur stood up. “I did not agree to fight the blade, okay? You're gonna have to pay me if you want me to fight the blood god.” (y/n) sighed at this.

“Fine, you can have a stake of diamonds and 9 netherite, deal?” Tommy gasped. “How do you have that much!?” (y/n) just chuckles. “I go mining constantly ‘cause you're so expensive. Anyways Wilbur, got a deal?”

Wilbur sat back down, thinking about it. “Yeah, we’ve got a deal! Now what are you two gonna do?” (y/n) sat down in their arm chair. “Oh, easy. So what we’re planning is-”

They talked about the plan for a bit, wilbur interjecting to improve upon it. Once done, they set out, gathering what they needed and heading to the tundra to get their axe back.

It took awhile to get there, seeing as though the three of them kept arguing.

“Omg we’re finally here!” tommy says, immediately getting shushed by wilbur and (y/n). (y/n) snakes Tommy's arm lightly. “We’re right outside their houses! Be quite!” they whisper yell, heading towards the front door. “Right right..” tommy whispers, following behind, along with wilbur.

They sneaked inside, heading in from the main and basement doors. Tommy and (y/n) snuck up the ladders, going as quietly as possible. “You see the axe?” (y/n) asks, whispering as low as possible. Tommy shook his head, heading further into technos room to try and find it.

The pigman was sleeping soundly in his big ass bed. The two teens assumed that he wouldn't wake up for a long time.

(y/n) followed after Tommy, slowly walking around the room to try and find the axe. They searched all around the room, searching in his chests and even closet.

Tommy looked at the far end of the room, near the ceiling. He notices the wall being two different colors, as if there's a giant hole in the wall. He climbs up to the ceiling, seeing what was in the whole. He gasps, realizing it's a barrel filled with a ton of valuable stuff, including the axe that they were looking for. He takes it (along with a bunch of the other things inside) and slowly gets down from where he was at. He turned back to (y/n), who was already looking at him.

“Find anything?” Tommy nodded at the younger teen.

“I know i found two rats in my room.'' They quickly turned to see the piglin awake, and fully geared to fight the two of them. Even when he's sleeping he's ready to fight.

“Shit shit shit shit, tommy RUN!!” they booked it to the ladder, making sure to hold onto the axe they had finally gotten back. Techno quickly followed after them, not wanting to let them leave with the axe.

Wilbur notices the commotion, grabbing his sword, putting on his armor, and getting ready to fight the blade.

The teens basically slide down the ladder, heading to the basement to get away as fast as possible. Techno came down after, but Wilbur was there to stop techno from going down further. He had to think fast however, so Wilbur did the first thing he thought of.

Stabbing techno in the ass.

“HEH!? WILBUR WHY??”

“WHAT!? I WAS IN A HURRY!”

“SO YOU STABBED MY ASS???”

“YEAH!?”

Techno jumped off the ladder, standing in front of wilbur. “How much are they paying you?”

“A stack of diamonds and more.” techno nodded, going over to his ender chest. “I'll give you a stack of netherite blocks and stacks of sand if you turn against them.” Wilbur immediately nodded. “Yes yes,fuck those guys! Gimme gimme!” Wilbur takes the sand form techno and starts monching on it.

“Now, where are they heading?” techno asks, giving Wilbur the rest of the stuff that he promised.

“Oh, they're heading to snow chester. Closer than either of their homes.” techno nodded, running out the door with wilbur to go and get technos stuff back.

Back with Tommy and (y/n), they had reached where they agreed to go, breathing heavily. (y/n) immediately collapsed to the ground once they reached their hideout. “Oh god i'm tasting but...still got the axe?” Tommy nodded, collapsing next to them.

“I am so glad we agreed to change our hiding spot. I would be so dead if techno decided to chase us.” (y/n) says, grabbing the axe and examining it, happily. “Yeah, I knew not to trust wilbur. The guys insane!” (y/n) gets up, putting the axe with the rest of their treasures. “Well Tommy, I underestimated you. Your plan actually worked out for us.” they said, laying back down next to tommy.

Tommy smiled, basically clinging onto the young teen. “Never underestimate big man tommy danger kraken innit.” (y/n) giggled, clinging onto Tommy as well.

“Wanna just sleep?” they ask. Tommy nodded. Too tired to say anything else. “Alright, goodnight tommy.”

“Goodnight pussy.”

#mcyt x reader #tommyinnit x reader #technoblade x reader #wilbur soot x reader #x reader #dreamsmp x reader #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #technoblade #tommyinnit x you #wilbur soot x you #technoblade x you

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snidgetwidgeon · 3 years

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Son of Hylia, Daughter of Farore

A roleswap Zelink AU

Art by @anxioussailorsoldier and used here with permission

This story is a one-shot inspired by the prompts from @drsteggy and was gifted to her in a fic exchange.

~~~

Link awoke suddenly, desperately trying to cling to the vision of a woman surrounded by bright light as it diminished from his foggy mind. Try as he might to enter back into the haze of his mysterious dream, sounds came louder and clearer to his ears, and he registered the rustle of the sheets sliding against his feet as he stretched, his senses slowly returning. Today would be a trying affair. He always remained fatigued after she appeared to him, ever speaking yet rendered frustratingly silent.

Perhaps he could try to lay low, hide in the library, and search yet again on the shelves he’d already scoured for something he may have missed; something to prove it was possible that he was having the visions vessels were known to have had. He just couldn’t interpret them. He spared a bittersweet thought for his late mother. She would have known, would have shown him. Or perhaps she would have bore a daughter, and there would be no question; and he could have supported his sister when they found out the Calamity was foretold to return.

But the Kingdom of Hyrule was left with a Prince at the precipice of doom. He’d never felt more useless, or more determined to do something about it. He would find a way. He would protect everyone.

Zelda shifted her feet, practicing her forms to warm up before training. She missed her scimitar. This new blade felt so different and she had to relearn how to make it an extension of herself. It was humbling when sparring partners she had previously bested came out on top. It just proved she still had much to learn and needed to become proficient with many weapon types if she wanted to be the greatest.

She recalled being a bit intimidated as her group of friends grew over the years. Where they used to be physical equals, they now towered above her; but she supposed she could be thankful for the challenge because it caused her to become an incredibly scrappy fighter, always looking for openings she could wheedle into.

This time she wheedled too far and forgot to watch her flank while in pursuit of one of her opponents. Another warrior swept in and bashed her ribs as she was on an upswing and it sent her flying. As she was pulled up, she couldn’t help but think spitefully that the same would not have happened if she were allowed her weapon of choice. She could have recovered with her scimitar but the swing on the Master Sword was different.

“Nice air you caught there,” her sparring partner teased in Gerudo. “Again?”

Zelda recovered her blade from a few paces away and declined, “I think I’ll just nurse my wounds and ego for awhile, thanks.”

“Suit yourself. I recommend you do solitary for a few days with your new acquaintance,” she pointed her chin towards the Master Sword in Zelda’s grip. “See if you two can make friends,” she winked and ran back to join the fray.

Zelda stared down at the sword with slight contempt. Urbosa had told her of the legends she’d learned from the late Queen of Hyrule, and her son, Prince Link- that the sword was wielded to protect Hylia, and how the blade itself chose its master and would even communicate. Someone being chosen meant that a shit storm was likely brewing.

Urbosa also mentioned that preparations were being made against some sort of Calamity. The word made Zelda’s blood run cold and she knew it was something to be feared. If the sword was not speaking to her, perhaps it chose wrong and she was not suited to the challenge. She had tried everything she could think of, even hours of meditation, which she hated because she didn’t like sitting still for long.

But it was all for naught.

She wove her way through the stalls and bustle of the marketplace, sword heavy on her back, and day after day it had only served to weigh her down even more. She could no longer stand it. She exited the north-western gates and ran along the outer wall. Heart pounding and sweating all over, she dug a rather shallow and pathetic hole, chucked the sword in and kicked sand over it before walking away in a huff, muttering, “Curse the day I found your infuriating silence!”

She’d been training in the desert when she discovered it, exploring further than she ever had over the dunes. Following the statues with their guiding swords, she finally came upon the last one and sheltered under her cloak at its base as a sandstorm passed. Thankfully, it was short and as she stood to shake as much sand as she could off her person, she noticed something strange in the distance. She could have sworn she’d reached the last statue of the warriors. Perhaps she’d miscounted as there stood another on the horizon, the reflection of its sword glinting brightly in its grasp.

Zelda took a drink from her ration, taking note of how much was left before deciding she could manage one more. If anything, it would improve her survival skills.

As she neared the solid figure rising out of the sands she noticed that the sword it held was elaborate. Oddly enough, a scabbard for it was slung over the shoulder which made it appear that someone had just left it there. She looked around but only saw a few cacti bearing voltfruits, perfect for carrying around extra moisture for the return trip. Some movement caught her eye behind a cactus and she ran over, pulling her scimitar, in case there was meat to be had, but she was met with a poof of sparkling petals and could have sworn she heard a childish giggle.

After investigating thoroughly, she cut the fruits and placed them into her bag before returning to the statue. It would be a shame to leave such a fine piece of work out in the middle of nowhere. She climbed the figure and slipped the scabbard off the shoulder, letting it fall to the sand before holding the neck and planting her feet against the torso so she could reach the hilt with her free hand. It did not budge. Hiking herself up, she wrapped her legs around the neck so she could use both hands to pull on the wings above the hilt.

She was straining when she heard the laugh again, accompanied by a rattle, and in her distraction, the blade suddenly came loose and they both tumbled into the sand.

She’d thought nothing of it until returning to Gerudo Town.

During a routine visit to the throne room, Chief Urbosa had nearly sent away visiting dignitaries when she spied the sword on Zelda’s back. After the meeting, Urbosa called her into her private quarters, which was very unusual. Perhaps she was to be given a special assignment.

“Where did you find that sword?” Urbosa asked with intense interest and a hint of concern.

Zelda stood at attention and replied concisely, “In the desert, Chief.”

“Zelda, have you any idea what you’ve found?”

Zelda began to doubt her decision to play finders keepers. Maybe it was a ceremonial sword or relic that should have stayed where it was. Though she had been raised with the Gerudo, she certainly did not purport to know all of their culture and was horrified by the idea that she’d deeply offended them.

~~~

Urbosa removed her bracelets and hair ornaments, letting the thick, red locks fall down her back. Making sure her tea would be in reach, she snuggled into her bed and opened a letter from her favorite Hylian. She always saved his letters for the end of the day when her attention could be undivided and she could imagine actually having a conversation with him. He was so bright and inquisitive, and optimistic- as his letter revealed. Just like her love.

~I have not given up my search. I keep thinking that surely, there is a pocket in the library I have not scoured. But then another duty and another day takes me away from it. I see her, Urbosa. It has to mean something. If only I could find evidence that there has been a son of Hylia. Why else would I be given visions? If only I could interpret them...

Do you know how mother did it? Did she ever say anything?~

He then went on to describe his involvement with the funding of the research at the Royal Ancient Lab as well as other gossip that he and Urbosa kept up on, including their inside jokes about stuffy nobles. He also wanted to hear more about the warrior who had pulled the Master Sword.

~Does the bearer of the Blade that Seals the Darkness fare well? The moment I learned of her, I hoped that it was a sliver of evidence to prove my case. If there is a woman as Farore’s chosen, then perhaps it lends weight to the fact that a man could be Nayru’s chosen. But I’m harping. Perhaps I will be able to meet her soon, though father keeps me tied up in social engagements. He has taken to parading me at events where there are ample amounts of young debutantes to vie for my attention. I’d much rather be studying.~

Urbosa wrote back early the next morning after skimming the letter again.

~It seems our chosen Hero is having trouble awakening the power within the blade. When you sent word of legends that say the sword speaks to a worthy master, she immediately felt inadequate. Zelda excels at any challenge and eventually overcomes all obstacles, so when she continually failed to connect with the sword’s spirit, she took out her frustrations in a childish manner. The other day she was witnessed burying it in the sand outside the town walls. She must have blown off all her steam because she did retrieve it later that night.

I think that learning her fate has been weighing on her. She puts on a stoic face but I can see she has reservations. Perhaps if you two came together, something will give?~

After reading Urbosa’s reply, Link laid the parchment back down on his desk and pondered her proposition. He had been wanting to expand his search outside the castle for sometime and though he enjoyed visiting the Royal Lab, it did not hold any answers for what he sought; they were just a bunch of rowdy mechanics who were a lot of fun to hang around with. But to understand his history and role, he wanted to go on a pilgrimage to the known spiritual sites of Hyrule, and perhaps discover unknown ones as well so he could be better informed on how to defeat the Calamity, and possibly awaken the power of Hylia along the way.

He would start making arrangements right away.

~~~

King Rhoam rapped his knuckles on the door of his son’s study. When Link answered with a curt nod and a polite greeting, he entered, leaving his guard detail outside. He thought it prudent to retain at least some privacy for this matter, considering the gossip it could generate.

“I hear you’re planning some sort of trip,” it came out as a statement more than a question.

“A pilgrimage. To try and find any proof of my suspicions-”

He was interrupted by his father’s large, dissatisfied sigh. “Link, you really must stop harping on about that nonsense. Hylia has only ever been reincarnated into the mortal body of a female, that’s just the way it is. A tradition that extends even far beyond what we have in written history.”

“Exactly. We don’t know everything. How do you explain my visions? Mother had them. She knew how to interpret them.”

“Perhaps they’re just dreams,” Rhoam offered again in a misguided attempt to engage.

Link smacked the book he was about to pack on the table in frustration. “I can’t believe you keep saying that, you just don’t understand.”

“What I understand is that you continue to foolishly insist on chasing dreams and fantasies rather than doing something tangible for your people. You’re wasting time, Link. You should be courting and choosing a wife so that you can pass on the bloodline to a potential Princess who will-” Rhoam saw the shock in his boy’s face and tried to change track, “We have no idea when the Calamity will strike, we should be doing everything we can to prevent disaster.”

Link clenched his jaw as a deep anger and loathing swelled in his breast. Voice trembling in rage, he rebutted, “I am not going to produce an heir just to send her to the slaughter. I will fight my own battles. This Calamity is coming down on us! I just need to figure out how to awaken Hylia’s power.” He grabbed his bag and stormed out before Rhoam could push his agenda further.

~~~

The next letter Urbosa received from Link outlined his travels. She grinned as she read through them, glad that he’d managed to get away.

~The Forgotten Temple was very difficult to access, and though it did not produce any results, it was a breath taking trip. It has the largest Goddess Statue I have ever seen and I felt a peculiar familiarity while standing under her benevolent smile. I think this is promising.

We’re now at the ruins of the Temple of Time on the Great Plateau. I’m no stranger to the place of course, but the Priestess has been most helpful in providing old texts to study that were not available at the Castle. She’s even offered to assign a scribe to make copies for me.

I hope to be underway again soon and I would like to visit the Seven Heroines. I want to leave no stone unturned. I shall send a dispatch for when we expect to be arriving in the desert.~

When the time came, Urbosa bid Zelda to be an escort for the Prince across the sands to Gerudo Town. “Listen carefully, Zelda. Being the Prince is more than reason enough to keep him safe, but there may be a chance that he is so much more. The fact that you wield that sword lends weight to his theory that he may be Hylia reborn.”

Zelda’s eyes widened but she remained silent, nodding dutifully.

“I’ll need you to deliver some supplies to him so that he may enter unmolested upon arrival.”

“Chief?” Zelda asked, uncertain about the order. Hylia possibly being in a boy she could handle, but in all her time there, she’d never heard of a voe entering Gerudo Town. For Urbosa to speak of it almost as if it were done every other day was- confusing, to say the least.

Urbosa raised her brow at the question. “He is my Oten’vehvi and knows how to behave within these walls. You need not concern yourself with the politics, just act as his personal guard.”

“Yes, Chief.”

She made her preparations and checked that all was secure with the ‘contraband.’ The idea of meeting the Prince was troubling to say the least. She felt completely inadequate, bearing a sword that considered her unworthy. Perhaps she could pass it onto him and he could find the most courageous person in Hyrule. With his resources she was sure it wouldn’t be that hard. Then again, legendary swords weren’t known for choosing incorrect Heroes, so what was wrong with her?

They would just have to work together somehow.

She rode most of the way at a leisurely pace behind her sand seal until she noticed a scuffle as she neared Kara Kara. “HUP!” she directed her seal to go a bit faster to investigate.

A couple of Hylian vai shrieked when they saw her. “The Prince! Please save our Prince!” they cried as they pointed west.

There were two Yiga chasing after a nimble blond clad in light blue. She sprung after them, tongue rolling in a call to let her mount know they needed to go as fast as if they were fleeing a molduga.

The Prince was doing well for himself until he fell, a prey disposition coming over him. He scooted back but could only stare at the assassins, frozen in fear.

Zelda used her inertia to whip across the sand and jumped to land between the Prince and his attackers. She drew her sword, imbued with courage and confident that she could easily protect the boy against the likes of this desert rabble. She almost become distracted by the sword’s sudden glow before exchanging blows with the masked Yiga. They soon realized they were no match for her and dispersed in pops of red and orange light, laughter echoing in their place.

Breathing heavily, she turned back to face the Prince who was still flat on his bum. They both ogled the glowing sword.

An ethereal, disembodied voice broke the silence, “Master, it is good to see you again.”

Their eyes snapped to each other and searched for understanding. There was an immediate and unmistakable bond between them. They’d both heard it.

“I see...” Zelda began. She glared down at the Master Sword, fist clenching the handle and shaking with anger. “So you only deign to speak when your charge is present?” Her voice rose, “I wasn’t good enough for you?! You picky piece of shit!” she yelled as she hurled the sword into the dunes.

Link gaped in disbelief that his protector was so uncouth when something profound occurred to him. He fell back into the sand laughing, a massive wave of relief washing over him.

She looked at him curiously. “What? What is it?”

His laughter died down and he gazed into the sky, moisture glistening in the corner of his eye. “She’s with me.”

Zelda’s eyebrows knitted in confusion, unaware of the turmoil he had experienced regarding his identity.

Link stood and brushed himself off then held out his hand in greeting. “You must be Zelda. Bearer of the Blade that seals the Darkness.”

She accepted his shake and added spitefully, “More like the blade that won’t open its trap unless its mommy is around.”

“You know, I find it very intriguing, my mother’s name was also Zelda.”

“Yes, my mother was a big fan. It’s kind of flattering, she was a great lady. But people always joke that I’m the lost, secret princess and other nonsense.” She started to move away but he touched her arm and she paused.

“Thank you- for saving my life; but also for revealing the truth. Now that I know she’s here,” he touched his heart, “I will find her.”

Zelda eyed him like a strange bug, still unsure as to what he was on about. She patted his shoulder as she walked over to retrieve her weapon, “Good luck with that.”

~~~

A few nights later, Link and Urbosa took a stroll just outside of town to enjoy each other’s company, catching up on their daily lives. The stars twinkled brightly and the moon shone pale on the dunes, a steady breeze drifting the sands away to the dark horizon. He’d just intimated what his father would have him do to stay the coming Calamity.

She touched his shoulder in support, “And what did you say?”

“That this was our battle. And I would absolutely not have a child just to-” he sighed deeply. “I mean, I know the legends. There will always be a vessel of Hylia and her chosen Hero, but to be so deliberate and unfeeling about it, I just...”

“It’s alright. Your father has always been rather blunt, and practical to a fault. For what it’s worth, I believe in you. The visions you describe sound very similar to what your mother shared with me.”

He looked up to her with a smile, “It’s worth a lot, you’re my Oten’baba; your opinion matters to me more than anyone else.”

They continued on for a short time in companionable silence when Urbosa stopped and lifted her head to the night, listening and placing a hand on her scimitar.

“What is it?” Link asked, only noticing after he’d taken a few steps ahead.

A raucous laughter cut across the desert and as quick as Urbosa had been to draw her blade and prepare a snap of deadly electricity over her foes, two of them grabbed the Prince and held their sickles to his neck causing her to stay her hand.

“What a lovely package we have here tonight. Not only can we bag the boy, we can finally rid ourselves of the thorn in our side, Gerudo Tempest!” a Yiga foot soldier, hidden amongst the rest, spat the last two words out in disgust.

They attacked and dozens fell upon the Chief, running head on and popping up behind. A dance of blades began and Link struggled to free himself. Urbosa tried to lead her foes away but Link’s captors followed, dragging his feet through the sand.

“You’ll not be using your lightning with the precious Prince so close, will you?” gloated the same antagonizing voice.

Link cried out in terror when he saw a Yiga succeed in cutting her arm. She seethed and decked them right across the jaw. When they fell she jumped onto their back and launched herself in the air so she could shoot off a bolt.

“Oh, no! Is the Tempest in distress?” the voice goaded, and the masks cackled.

Link couldn’t tell where the mocking was coming from, they were everywhere and nowhere at once. There were too many. Urbosa was becoming overwhelmed and aid may not arrive in time- a gash landed on her leg- he was going to lose her. The laughing was getting louder, the air becoming so thick with magic that it tasted like chalk on his tongue- a slice was delivered up her back and she cried out. He squeezed his eyes shut and thought of his mother. What would she do? There hadn’t been anything he could do for her then, but he was here now for his living mother.

Link’s eyes shot open just in time to see Urbosa drowning under the onslaught and his insides fell into oblivion. They were replaced by a warmth that spread through his body and beyond. He jerked his head in confusion as those that held him fell away. He was free. Sparks akin to those he felt when he fell asleep on his hand in the library spread through his fingers and he launched himself into the foray. He clawed through Yiga soldiers to get to her and did not see how each one he yanked was thrown back with a force of golden energy.

“Urbosa! URBOSA!?” They hit the ground.

The desert was lit with a false sunrise as Link crushed Urbosa in a desperate embrace. The light washed over her, healing her wounds as it cascaded around them in a dome, their enemies lying motionless on the outside.

After a few stunned moments, they opened their eyes and picked each other up. Urbosa held his face in her hands and wiped his tears. “Just look at you,” she said, smiling proudly.

“I- I couldn’t. I was,” he stumbled over his words as more tears fell, “I was going to lose you. I couldn’t lose you too,” he cried into her chest and she held him close.

~~~

Link was a natural at seal surfing. That’s what Zelda thought before she realized that he must have actually visited Gerudo Town previously and she just didn’t know it. They had left at sunrise and arrived to their destination mid morning. After taking a much needed rest, re-hydrating and snacking, Link took a leisurely walk around the place to get his bearings while Zelda tended to the sand seals. She joined him after they were settled for a long siesta and the two of them began their research of the Seven Heroines in interest.

There were orbs scattered about the place. Very large, Link noticed. He pushed one with his foot. And heavy. The sand seals might have to work after all. He tasked Zelda with collecting any she could find and in the meantime he studied the statues, picking up rather quickly that some had prominent corresponding symbols to the orbs on various parts of their bodies. Some he couldn’t make out as they were too high so there would be some educated guesses by process of elimination.

Zelda couldn’t help being drawn into his enthusiasm, the way he took notes- the face he made when he took those notes; it was all very quaint, and a bit impressive. Having spent most of her time advancing physically, she appreciated the mental gymnastics they were doing. Where most might sit back defeated, Link pushed through with a calm determination. They tried dropping the orbs in the pedestals in numerous combinations, each with a sound theory behind them. How was Link to know that if shrines had been activated, he would have succeeded in getting a result on the first try? A fact that they both wouldn’t learn for another 103-odd years.

After the sun set, Link scrawled until the dimming light rendered the page unreadable. Zelda had already set about making camp. They could head back to town in the morning, both were knackered. Even with the help of the seals, they’d heaved plenty of orbs around for hours. Eventually he plopped down on the rug with her and heaved a big sigh.

“Wow, you been working all day or something?” she asked in jest as she turned the vegetables in the fire.

“Yeah, something like that. It’s been a long while since I’ve been out in the field.”

She regarded him thoughtfully. “What’s it like up at the castle?”

“Stuffy.”

She chuckled and didn’t press but it wouldn’t be fair to leave it at that. For all its faults, it deserved more. “I loved exploring the halls as a boy. I’m fairly certain I found long lost passages even the castle historian didn’t know about. My favorite places are the Library and the Observatory. “

“Sounds about right,” Zelda smirked.

“Ha ha. But really, the Library has books as far as you can see, you’d never finish them in one lifetime. And my mother used to take me to the Observatory. I still go there to feel close to her.”

They sat in silence for a moment when Zelda touched his forearm. “I’m sorry you lost her.”

Link nodded in thanks and Zelda started to collect the hearty truffles from the coals. “I lost my father,” she began, and Link was a bit surprised she was sharing.

“He was a knight. We didn’t have any other family close by and mom didn’t fancy moving to Tabantha Village. She hates the cold,” Zelda added as she passed Link a stick laden with dinner.

“Thanks. So she just came to the desert instead?” Link asked before blowing generously and taking a bite.

“She had a close friend here who is practically my auntie. I think she was hoping we could just get away and start fresh from everything we knew before. But then I had to take after dad. Took her a while and a lot of arguments to come to terms with the fact that I was also a warrior.” She shook her head. “I feel bad. I’ve put her in a constant fear of losing me too but... you have to do what your soul tells you, right?”

Link closed his eyes and thought of Hylia, feeling a vibration in his core. “Right.” He agreed thoughtfully.

“Anyway, then this happened,” she said, unsheathing the sword on her back a few inches and letting fall back in with a shinck. “That was not a fun conversation.”

“I can imagine,” Link commiserated as he thought of his own recent rows with his father.

Zelda took a bite of her own truffle and regarded him up and down. With no tact for manners, she said with a full mouth, “You’re alrigh’ fo’ a Pince.”

Link laughed and his genuine mirth spread warmth through Zelda’s chest. “And you’re alright for a Hero.”

#breath of the wild #zelink #fanfiction #roleswap au #prince link #champion zelda #urbosa #king rhoam #Son of Hylia Daughter of Farore #snidgetwidgeon scribbles

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fluffywing-e-tarot · 3 years

Text

Be an Esteemed Lady while out shopping for the day

Of course, Grain would be the one to draw the short straw on this Hermit challenge. He suspected it was Iskall who wrote it for Stress, However, Stress didn't want to swap challenges and thus Grian had to go to the shopping district in the only feminine outfit that he had being Arianna Grande. The worst part being that Grian was planning on restocking the Barge soon.

So Grian took to the sky in his Popstar outfit. Elytra on his back he flew across the sea to get to the shopping district. He spotted Stress waiting at the Barge. A misgevious smirk on her face.

"Well aren't you looking beautiful." she greeted. "I thought you would need some help in dressing up. Apparently, you can look Lady enough."

"Thanks," Grian said. "It was the only outfit I had."

"Oh, I didn't mean it as a compliment." Stress said her polite deminer missing from her." Your makeup is horrendous."

Grian really wanted to snap back at Stress, but then he remembered that Mumbo had bet Iskall twenty diamonds, That Grian could complete the Challenge. Who was he to denied Mumbo out of Diamonds? Grian took a deep breath, He was an esteemed lady. He was an esteemed Lady, and Esteemed Lady's do not snap at their Friends for insulting their makeup job.

"Beloved Stress, if I have indeed insulted my own visage then will you help me correct it," Grian said in a polite, gentle, manner.

Stress looked stunned. Her mischievous smirk faltering. "Uh yeah, just give me a moment. I have some things at my shop." she rocketed off to her store.

This gave Grian the time he needed to restock the chests in the Barge with everything his patrons needed from his shop. Grian heard the woosh of an Elytra glide and spotted Tango swooping into his shop. Grian sent out a text in chat say that the Barge was restocked

"Hay Grian." Tango greeted and went straight for the Sand. but stopped while opening the chest Tango closed the chest a moment later and turned around.

"Sorry, I thought you were Grain, Ma'am," Tango said. "My mistake."

He returned to buying Grains sand. He left with a Shulker box filled with sand. "That was weird," Grian thought Grian didn't want Stress to go chasing after him, as head a handful of Items to buy from the shopping disticet the main thing being the Dark prismarien that had been restocked. So he pulled out a Starcae to have the relative decence of looking dignified while waiting.

"Sorry 'bout that wait." Stress pulled out a shulker box and began to shift though it. She was pulling out brushes and a wide aray of color.

"We'll need to wash off your application before we begin." Stress led out a rag and potion bottle.

"Okay." Grian dabbed some of the potions onto the rag, at least that's what he assumed what Stress wanted, and started to remove the bright cherry pink and blush.

Ah there we go a clean face to work with." Stress said, " now close your eyes Grian we are going to make a Gina out of you."

" The outfit is actual Arianna Grande" Grian informed. " I used it to promote Sahara.

"Well, the wig is quite good quality." Stress said he felt some sort of cream be applied on his face. " I'm assuming you got it from the Hub world."

"The best place to shop for the costumes." Grian said

"Now tell me Arianna what brings you to the Shopping district?" stress asked.

"Dark Prismarin for mansion among other things," Grian said he felt different brushes on his face. and pencil on his eyes. Grian opened his eyes. as Stress applied the mascara Grian chatted about what could be improved upon in his builds

"Are we done?" Grian asked.

"Yes and you look much more beautiful," Stress said. "Go knock them dead Arianna" Stress's encouragement was worrying for grain's mental health. Grian was basically taking the actions of a Woman seriously.

"I have much to do Ms. Monster. Thank you for the assistance." Grian said.

"See you around " Stress called as she was putting away her makeup supplies.

Grian decides walking was the best option. Grian's preferred elytra positions and posture were not feminine. and he felt like everyone would be looking at his skirt.

"Grian!" Mumbo shouted gliding towards him. Grian looked at his close Redstoner friend. Mumbo looked ready to say something but a whimpering sound came from his thought. Mumbo was just staring at Grian for a solid minute.

"Yes Mumbo?" Grian asked

Mumbo cleared his thought. "Lady Grian may I have the honor of escorting you through the shopping center."

"No," Grian said, " I am perfectly content with my shopping experience."

"Okay, I'll talk to you later," Mumbo said and shot rockets off and flew away.

Grain was just about to arrive at the shop when a zip of rockets. when another familiar face greeted him.

~O~

Scar walked through his project thinking of the lady that he met in the shopping district a week back. She was silent for his entire tour of the shopping district. But he noticed that she purchased a couple of items from some of the shops. She must have been a rare invite of a family member that Xuma allows on the survey.

"Hi Scar!" Grian chirped dropping down in front of him.

"Oh! Goodness!" Scar exclaimed. Jumping off the ground.

"wow, you must be quite distracted. You haven't replied to any of my messages" Grian said, " You know about the lot in Aque town."

"What messages?" Scar asked pulling out his communicator. and saw the there were a lot of messages he Missed. A load of server chat and also whispers and Personal Messages. "Oh, those messages."

"Seeing as something was distracting the mayor from his mayoral duties. What were you thinking about?" Grian asked. Scar sighed.

"A girl." Scar said.

Scar noticed that Grian was Curious. Would probably hound him for more information. So he spoke before Grian could.

" I met her a few weeks ago, she was quiet and polite. She looked new to the surver. I had seen her in an add back in season six." Scar explained "She's not from the surver, at least I don't think she is."

Grian smiled " You sound like your in love."

Scar blushed "Nothing of the Sort!"

"What's her name?" Grain asked the shorter man was bouncing on his toes.

"I think her Name was Arianna Grande."

Grian stoped bouncing. "Sorry what?"

"Her name was Arrianna Grande."

Grian grabbed onto Scar's shoulders. Grian's face was very red. "You said you have been distracted by Arrianna Grande."

"Yes?" Scar answered

Grian's face turned even reder. "You're crushing on a persona I made for the Express purpose of promoting Mumbo. And Haven't realised that It was just me in a wig and skirt."

Scar listeded to what Grian was saying. However at the same time none of it made sense. Grian was gone by the time that the words clicked and Scar's face was red in Embaresment.

Scar both Wanted to express his Mistake but also burry it in his mind never to see the light of day again. He needed to express it. Scar decided that Bdubs was the best option.

Scar decide a drink of a stong beverage was in order. There was none on the surver (a rule for the safety of the Builders.) so they had to head to the main hub for this conversation. This was absolutely a metel misunderstanding. Scar hoped that Grian would forgive him.

#Grian #hermicraft #hermitcaft 7 #fictional hermit challenges #mumbo jumbo #stressmonster101 #gtwscar

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zapsalis-d · 3 years

Text

Narudar: Chapter Fourteen — The Venture

SUMMARY: Along with your new-found ally, you and Din travel through the Dune Sea in search of a quarry to earn the necessary credits needed for the Crest's repairs.

WARNINGS: Mild violence

WORD COUNT: 4.4k

MASTERLIST >>> MAIN MASTERLIST

The arid and dusty streets of Mos Eisley were noiseless and desolate — merely the sound of wind blowing on the dirt encircling the air with each passing breeze, and a couple bystanders strolling by visible. Though the quietude of this city did not calm the beskar-clad Mandalorian as he sauntered through the desolate planet of Tatooine. Instead, it caused him further unease, knowing completely well of the dangers lurking around every corner of this barren place he wished to escape as soon as possible. But he knew he had to continue in search of some sort of way to obtain credits and get off this dust-ball of a planet, or else unwanted trouble was bound to find him and his small crew.

Tatooine was effectively one of the hottest planets he'd landed on. Beads of sweat slid down his forehead from underneath the helm, and the fact that he couldn't even wipe it off made it worse. Not to mention the layers of clothing and armor concealing every inch of his skin, causing him to overheat easily in these temperatures. But he wouldn't complain. He learned not to in past. Eventually, he knew he'd get used to the sizzling climate of Tatooine, just as he had done the countless occasions he visited.

His gloved hand remained on his holster out of pure instinct, knowing that he could be recognized in these parts of the galaxy. Word travels fast, just as it had done with you back on Corellia. So he wouldn't let his guard down whatsoever as he traveled through the streets, seeking a certain cantina he stopped by cycles ago when he was in the Guild with the same objective he had now — acquire a bounty and earn his well-deserved credits.

He offered a quick glance towards a bunch of bloodied, beat-up Stormtrooper helmets impaled by a stick dug into the sand — a reminder of how terrible this planet is. The Mandalorian paid no attention to them, instead continuing down the sandy streets. Now the cantina was in sight up ahead, the grimy entrance completely familiar to him now that he caught a glimpse of it.

Upon entering, he glanced around for a brief moment to examine his surroundings. Droids whirred around, aliens chattered towards each other, people sitting back and taking a swig of a few drinks. Typical cantina. Plenty of them were extra aware of Din's presence, their eyes trained on him too long for his comfort. As if they recognized him — or, tried to. In this moment he was glad to have left you back at the landing bay with the kid, or else that would've brought unnecessary attentiveness towards them. They were bound to recognize the Mandalorian and the Jedi; bounty hunters gone rogue against the Guild to protect an innocent baby from the Imperials.

Din tread towards the empty bar towards a service droid. As much as he despised these mechanical beings, this one in particular could provide him the help and directions necessary. With the droid's attention now on him, he leaned onto the counter before offering it a quick greeting and cutting right to the point. "I'm a hunter. I'm looking for some work."

"Unfortunately, the Bounty Hunter's Guild no longer operates from Tatooine," the droid stated in that ordinary monotone voice Din recognized from the countless droids he'd encountered.

With a slight shake of his head, he continued. "I'm not looking for Guild work."

"I am afraid that does not improve your situation, at least by my calculation."

Damn it. Where else was he supposed to retrieve the credits needed to pay for the repairs of the Crest? There were other options... none exactly very appealing to him, or to anyone under his circumstances for that matter.

"Think again, tin can."

A masculine voice caught his curiosity, his dark visor turning to face the source of whoever had spoken to him. His gaze met with the figure of a younger man, a smug look plastered all over his face as he leaned back in his seat, legs crossed and propped over the table in front of him. The stranger gestured towards the available seat for the Mandalorian to sit in, though he remained tentatively where he stood. "If you're looking for work, have a seat, my friend. Name's Toro. Toro Calican."

Din only kept his place, hesitant about trusting a random, unknown person on Tatooine. His notable reluctance caused for the man to urge him towards the unoccupied spot again. "Come on, relax."

He glanced back at the droid nearest to him, hoping that it would have some sort of job for him. As if it would change it's mind about what it said earlier. But it was a droid — what did he expect? Damn droids. People questioned why he loathed them so badly when the reasons were crystal-clear.

Unwillingly, he departed from the bar and took the remaining seat in front of the man. Placing a puck on the table, Toro awaited the Mandalorian as he examined the face of his newly-acquired bounty. Din, of course, recognized the feminine features of Fennec Shand — an elite mercenary. Someone he wasn't going to mess with, no matter how desperate he were for credits. He already knew he would reject whatever partnership the stranger was planning on offering him.

"Picked up this bounty puck before I left the Mid Rim," Toro stated, the smugness on his expression clearly visible. "Fennec Shand, an assassin. Heard she's been on the run ever since the New Republic put all her employers in lock-down."

"I know the name."

Toro picked the fob from the table, holding it within his own fingers. "I followed this tracking fob here. Now, the positional data suggests she's heading out beyond the Dune Sea." With a nonchalant shrug, he added, "Should be an easy job."

A job he wasn't willing to take.

"Well, good luck with that."

Lifting himself from his seat and heading out, he was forced to a halt by the younger man who stepped in between him and the exit. His helmet tipped down at the shorter man he towered over. By his stance and the way he shifted unsteadily on his feet, Din could tell his desperation increasing with each passing second. "I thought you needed work?"

"How long with the Guild?"

"Long enough."

"Clearly not," Din retorted at the new, inexperienced bounty hunter. "Fennec Shand is an elite mercenary. She made her name killing for all the top crime syndicates, including the Hutts." Before turning to leave for good this time, he added, "If you go after her, you won't make it past sunrise."

"This is my first job," Toro said in a last ditch effort to convince the Mandalorian. He spun around, noting the look of excessive pride in his expression had completely vanished — instead, a pleading dominating his features. "You can keep the money, all of it. I just need this job to get into the Guild." Toro scoffed at himself before continuing, "I can't do it alone."

Din internally groaned. This was probably going to be his only chance — either he took it, or risked remaining stuck on Tatooine for an extended amount of time, which would only lead to more hunters locating them. And the fact that he was bringing you only made it worse. Sure, you could handle yourself perfectly fine, he knew that for a damn fact from what he'd experienced with you. But the thought of harm finding you because of him, would leave him feeling guilty about it. Even despite the countless times he had blasted, stabbed, punched you during your intense hatred for each other... but that was besides the point. It was all in the past now.

Maybe this wasn't the best option, but he had no idea when another opportunity like this would present itself.

Finally, the Mandalorian nodded in approval. "Meet me at hangar three-five in half an hour. Bring three speeder bikes, I'm bringing someone else along."

Toro instantly lit up, smiling and chuckling now that he had a kriffing Mandalorian on his side.

"And give me the tracking fob."

His face dropped, gaze lowering to the gloved hand awaiting the fob. But instead of obeying, he hurled the object with all his force against a wall. It instantly shattered into bits, sparks flying out of it as it collapsed to the floor. Din tilted his helmet at the younger man's stupid decision.

"Don't worry," the smugness returned to Toro's face as he pointed a finger towards his own head. "Got it all memorized."

A barely audible sigh escaped Din's mouth. "Half an hour," was all he responded with before exiting the cantina."

"Looks like you're stuck with me, partner!"

Great. Just kriffing great.

After another half hour or so traveling back towards the landing bay under the scorching suns, Din was glad to have returned. While the hangar didn't exactly provide much coolness, it was better than having the blazing twin suns sizzling down on his overheated armor.

"Din." You emerged from within the Razor Crest, a relieved smile on your face as you made your way towards him. "Find anything?"

His modulator crackled as he let out a puff of breath. "Someone offered a bounty. As long as we join up with him, he promised the entire reward will be ours."

"The entire reward?" You repeated, a look of skepticism on your face as you cocked an eyebrow. "That doesn't exactly seem plausible. What's in it for him, then?"

"It'll be his ticket into the Guild, apparently. He's new. Just wants to build up his rep."

You crossed your arms, leaning onto one leg. "Guild? Did he recognize you?" When you received a shake of his head in response, you added, "And you're sure he won't recognize me?"

He paused, a split second of silence before answering. "Well, you could always stay—"

"No, forget it," you chuckled. "Let's go. Where do we meet him?"

"Just outside the hangar," he replied as he walked alongside you towards the exit. "Told him to bring a few speeder bikes for us. We'll be traveling down the Dune Sea."

"You recognize the quarry?"

He nodded, "Fennec Shand."

"Oohf. Looks like we're in for some fun."

"Wait—" Din halted in place right behind the hangar's exit, causing you to follow suite. "Where's the kid?"

"In the back," you lifted a finger, pointing towards the grimy, fogged up glass where he caught glimpses of the woman's fiery hair and the Child's long, green ears. "Peli's feeding him. Didn't stay asleep for long, as much as I would've preferred him to stay in the ship."

There was a strange quietude as Din remained in his place, without moving towards leave whatsoever.

"So? Let's go?"

A leather glove gently grasped your hand, stopping you before you could step away any further. "Aren't you hungry? Have you had anything to eat?"

"I'm fine, I'm not— wait." Your eyes narrowed up as you stared into the darkness of his visor, "Are you stalling?"

"No," was his plain response.

"Are you sure?"

When you didn't receive an answer, you chuckled and stepped closer while further intertwining your hands together. "Din, I've won plenty of fights against other people, including you—"

"Not the last one."

"—but I've beat you before."

"Sometimes."

You sighed, placing a free hand on your hip as you shook your head. "Okay, that's not the— the point is, I can take care of myself and I'll get through this bounty perfectly fine. You know that."

Yet another sigh escaped his lips — a sigh of defeat, knowing full well you were determined to join the hunt. "Alright."

"It'll be— argh, damn!" You retracted your hand from where you had placed it upon the cuirass on his chest, the overheated metal burning your skin in an instant. Wincing, you clutched your hand to your chest until the stinging sensation disappeared. "That beskar's blazing hot!"

Din only chuckled, before both your attentions were taken by the Child as he waddled as quick as he could towards the Mandalorian. Cooing excitedly upon his return, he raised his stumpy little arms towards him. Din brought the Child into his arms, holding him close for a moment. Peli had trailed closely behind the baby the entire time. "Ya find anything?"

"Yeah, we're heading out right now," you answered, pausing for a second when you realized the Child would have to be left here. "You wouldn't mind babysitting the kid, would you?"

"Oh, not at all. I may have to charge you extra, though." She chuckled, before lifting her hands towards the baby in Din's arms and taking him within her own. "Just kidding! Come here ya lil' womp rat. You're stuck with me now."

"Thanks, Peli," you grinned, heading towards the exit alongside the Mandalorian. "We should be back soon."

Should.

After meeting with the unfamiliar man, he quickly introduced himself before the three of you hopped on the speeder bikes. You decided not to provide him the knowledge of your name, in case he had heard of you or not. Luckily, he didn't seem to recognize either of you, though he could be hiding it as well. It didn't matter anyway — if he did know, he'd be extremely foolish to mess with a Mandalorian and an ex-Jedi who still has a hold of her lightsaber.

While Din and Toro zoomed off towards the vast Dune Sea, you had the luck of picking the worst bike. The engine sputtered terribly with each attempt on powering it on. Muttering a string of curses under your breath as you watched the men advance rapidly away, you continued trying until finally, it maintained itself alive. Your foot shoved the pedal a tad bit too harshly, but you were losing your patience. You could only hope that it wouldn't die out in the middle of the desert...

Well, you wouldn't mind sharing a bike with Din.

Shaking the thoughts out of your head, you focused on catching up with the rest. They had traveled rather far by now, though your speeder caught up with Din and Toro in a matter of minutes. Fortunately, it accelerated beautifully, so the speed wasn't a problem at all. It seemed the issue was it had a difficult time remaining powered on, but everything else was absolutely fine and shouldn't cause any hurdles. Hopefully.

For what felt like an eternity, the three of you rushed through the Dune Sea in search of the quarry. Out of sheer boredom, you often accelerated and purposely cut hazardously close in front of Din in an attempt to tease and bother him. The sand propelling from behind you limited the Mandalorian's vision, compelling him to reduce speed in fear of hurtling into you. Of course, he returned the lovely favor and imitated your annoying act, only it was awful because you didn't wear a helmet over your head to shield your eyes. Nor had you even thought of bringing goggles! You could've asked Peli if she had some. Well, too late — now you've got to deal with your irritated eyes.

Din gradually began decelerating, and you supposed he spotted something in the distance. He raised a fist, signaling for the two of you to hold back until eventually everyone came to a stop.

"What is it?" You questioned, shaking the unpleasant sand off your face and out your hair. A shower would be great after this.

"Look," the Mandalorian pointed out towards the open. "Up ahead."

All of you dismounted the speeders, treading forward in an attempt to get a better look at whatever Din perceived from this far. Though with how painfully aggravated your eyes were, you couldn't manage to discern anything. A small, black speck was visible in the distance, but that was simply it. As well as an audible groaning — definitely not from a human, but more of a creature.

Toro stepped ahead while you stood back with Din. He brought out his fancy binoculars, probing around with it as he focused on the dark pinprick. "Tusken raiders. I heard the locals talking about this filth."

Tuskens. You'd heard the name, stories of them as well. None too good. Come to think of it, no tale told from Tatooine was exactly good."

"Tuskens think they're the locals," Din commented, earning a scoff from the younger man ahead. "Everyone else is just trespassing."

You held in breaking into laughter upon watching a couple Tuskens approach, Toro having absolutely no idea whatsoever they were nearing so rapidly. You would warn him, but... this was certainly going to be funny.

His eyes remained solely searching through the binoculars, without noticing the raiders right beside him. "Whatever they call themselves, they best keep their distance."

A chuckle only detectable by you came from Din, and you couldn't help the wide grin appearing on your lips. "Yeah? Why don't you tell them yourself?"

Whirling around, Toro caught sight of the raiders in plain-colored clothing as they held their weapons, screeching terrifyingly at him. Toro flinched, instantly going for the defensive while you merely laughed at how frightened he seemed. Oh, it had been a while since you'd laughed like this.

Din quickly intervened, halting him before he did anything against the Tuskens. Your eyebrows creased upon watching the Mandalorian speak to them with his hands, assuming he was speaking the Tusken's native language. You knew of the many languages Din spoke but you had no clue he was this bilingual. Perhaps he had spent more time here on Tatooine than you originally thought.

Confusion etched Toro's features as he observed the conversation. "What are you doing?"

"Negotiating."

After a moment, you asked, "What are they saying?"

"They're open for trading if we're to have access and travel across their land." His visor peered over at the man besides him, lifting a hand towards him. "Let me see the binocs."

"Wha— no, they're brand new! I'm not giving them away to some... filthy monsters."

Oh, if only the Tuskens understood Galactic Basic.

"It's our only way to cross their property. Either give me the binocs or we return and forget about the bounty."

An expectant hand was held out for Toro to place the binoculars in, though he continued with his insistent protesting. Naturally, you lost your patience — so you stepped in and yanked the object out of his hands before tossing it over at the raiders. The Tuskens willingly caught it with their hands, inspecting it carefully.

"Hey! Come on!"

Earning a quiet chuckle from Din, you smirked before the two of you left the whining man as you mounted your speeders again.

But when your bike failed to power itself up yet once more, you groaned while slumping down onto the seat. "Damn speeder," you muttered before reluctantly attempting to get this piece of crap going.

"Problem?" Din questioned.

"It's been a problem since the beginning," you sighed when the bike's engine continued dying away with each effort you made. "Kriffing bike."

"Well, you can hop on with me if you'd like," Toro's voice filled your ears as he climbed onto his speeder. Even without lifting your gaze you could hear the smirk on his lips.

"Yeah, no."

In a final ditch effort, you finally achieved what you wanted and you couldn't contain the wide grin upon hearing the engine roar to life.

So, now that your bike was functioning, the three of you journeyed even further into the infinite Dune Sea of Tatooine. This time, though, you didn't bother your fellow Mandalorian with tour obnoxious tricks — instead, driving peacefully besides him. The way he frequently peered at you in discreet to make sure you weren't planning anything didn't go unnoticed by you. And you were tempted to prank around with him again, though before the chance presented itself, Din had signaled everyone to stop. Urgently.

The three of you hopped off your bikes and immediately crouched behind one of the sandy hills. You wondered what made it so critical for you to go unseen, until you caught sight of something in the distance. Definitely closer than the raiders you'd encountered last time. Didn't seem like a human, either, more like yet another creature. As well as something it was dragging on the ground — now that seemed like an actual person.

"Dewback," Toro noted. "Looks like the rider is still attached... Is that her? Is that the target?"

"Not sure, I can't exactly see from this far," you replied, squinting your eyes in an attempt to get a better look at it, with no avail.

"I'll go," Din suggested. As he stood and grabbed the blaster from his holster, you offered a quiet 'be careful' before he quickly head out into the open.

"We'll cover you," you stated, your fingers finding its way to your own blaster before pulling it out and clicking the safety off.

The shiny beskar-clad Mandalorian sprinted towards the dewback and the limp body. While you and Toro remained behind, you kept your finger hovering over the trigger and ready to shoot if anything were to happen — which, hopefully, wouldn't occur. But, hey, it's Tatooine! Something's bound to get you guys into trouble sooner or later.

Steadily, Din proceeded towards the dewback as noiseless as he possibly could in an attempt not to startle it. Once he reached it, you waited in anticipation as he examined the body laying lifelessly on the sand. "Is it her?" You asked, peeking your hear out from behind the hill a bit more.

"It's another bounty hunter," Din stated. A moment of silence took over as he further inspected the newly-found hunter. Though before anyone could respond, the Mandalorian whirled around and shouted for you to take cover. You gasped when he collapsed onto the ground due to a blast. Your instinct was to fire aimlessly towards the direction in which it came from. Though you couldn't spot anyone nearby, only the red streaks coming from the mountains up ahead. Sniper.

As soon as Din recovered, he hastily dashed back towards you. He barely had enough time to recuperate from the previous bullet before yet another hit him right in the pauldron, just before he sprung himself behind the protection of the hill. Times like these you were glad he had gone instead, while if you had gone... well, the outcome certainly wouldn't have been pleasant.

"Sniper-bolt," you noted.

Din nodded, as he rolled back onto the hill besides you, hesitantly peering over the sand. "Only an MK-modified rifle could make that shot."

While placing a hand on his beskar pauldron, his attention directed to you. "You okay?"

"Completely fine. Hit me in the beskar... and at that range the beskar held up."

"But I don't wear any beskar," a worried expression appeared on Toro's face.

Din only shrugged. "Nope."

"Neither do I. But I've made it this far, I'm sure I'll be fine." A teasing smirk took over your lips, "Not sure about you, though."

He rolled his eyes in response. "Well, so what do we do?"

"You see where that shot came from?" Din asked, everyone's gazes directing out into the open again.

Lifting a finger, you pointed out towards the ridge up ahead. "Over there. I couldn't manage to see anyone, though. Too far away."

"Okay, we're gonna wait until dark."

"Well, what if she escapes?" Toro questioned, undoubtedly still concerned for his own life.

"She's got the high ground. She'll wait for us to make the first move." The black visor turned to you again as he gestured towards the speeders with his head. "We're gonna rest. Toro, take the first watch and stay low."

"Got it."

The two of you stood from your spot, leaving the younger man behind to stay up and guard in case anything were to occur. You both basically crashed onto the ground, backs propped up against the speeders behind. After the long day of traveling on the bikes, a dull ache took over your back and sitting up against these speeders didn't exactly help. But you've dealt with worse pains before.

A puff of breath escaped your lips as you settled back, attempting to find a comfortable position. "So, what's the plan for tonight?"

"Sleep."

He sounded exhausted. The venturing must've taken a toll on him as well, and not to mention you had no clue when was the last time he had dozed off. He only ever slept in the cockpit of the ship, and rarely ever decided to sleep even if the chance presented itself. Always insisting that he was fine, that he wasn't tired. Typical Mando. But it seemed the consequences of his sleep deprivation had caught up with him.

You chuckled, "Nah. I'll stay awake the entire time."

He scoffed, "I highly doubt that."

You turned your gaze to the visor that remained trained on you, narrowing your eyes at his retort. "Oh? Wanna bet, then?"

"I'm interested."

"If I can stay awake until we have to leave, I get to..." you trailed off, your mind wandering for a split second before coming up with an answer. "...ride your bike. You gotta stay with my piece of banthacrap, which I doubt will even start up tonight."

"And if you fall asleep? What do I get?"

You shrugged, "I don't know. What do you want?"

His visor trailed around as he weighed out his options, until finally his gaze directed itself to you again. "A kiss. From you."

Your eyes widened, unsure if you even heard that correctly. "How? You want me to give you a smooch on the helmet?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "No. But I have my ways."

You smirked. Sly Mando. "Alright. It's a bet, then."

Maybe you would end up falling asleep after all. Purposely, or accidentally... who knows? Whether you lost the bet or not, either way you were at an advantage here. You leaned back into your seat further, debating your options. It was either ride a fully-functional bike during your long, grueling journey back to the city, or earn a kiss from a certain Mandalorian you'd grown quite fond of over the past months.

Tough decisions, tough decisions.

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Tags: @wonderless-screwup

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #the child #grogu #baby yoda #mando x reader #star wars #brown eyes #star wars x reader #brown eyes x reader

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maybedefinitely404 · 3 years

Text

Day 17: Royality

@tsshipmonth2020 (does this still count so late?)

What’s that? Ly creating content? Unbelievable. (I have writer’s block, leave me alooone /j)

Thanks to @marshymoop for suggestions and encouragment when making this bad boy! Love ya <3

Day 17 - Everyone has heterochromia, one eye is your natural color the other is your soulmate’s natural color. Once you meet all eyes return to natural color.

Content warnings: food/drink mention, alcohol, mentions of hangover, vampires, referring to drinking blood as “eating”, non-explicit blood drinking, being chased.

Word count: 6.9k

THE CITY OF DEWMORE WELCOMES YOU

Patton tapped his fingers on the steering wheel excitedly, nearly vibrating as he passed the weathered sign. Beyond it, beckoning him forward, stood a forest more densely packed and darker than he’d ever had the pleasure of exploring, the achingly tall pine trees swaying minutely in the breeze, their tips barely visible through the blanket of fog. Just imagining what could be held within those depths made his leg bounce; forgotten, moss-drenched stone paths, broken stumps of fallen trees that hadn’t made a sound upon impact, patches of mushrooms scattered in the shadows, and whispering creeks. It was the perfect way to spend his spring break, and one his photography teacher had wholeheartedly encouraged him to take. If he hadn’t had so many midterms to mark, Patton was almost sure the man would have tried to join him.

Almost an anxious tic at this point, he ran his free hand over the photography bag in his passenger seat, as if to make sure it hadn’t disappeared in the three minutes since he’d last checked. The thing was his prized possession, given to him by the very same photography professor at his university. It had been the elder’s own, before he got his newest camera, and gifted the whole set to his favorite (but don’t tell the others) students. It was full of perfectly kept lenses and two miniature tripods, extra batteries and memory cards, speedlights, and most importantly, the camera tucked safely into the biggest pouch. It was more expensive than Patton would ever have dreamt to buy, so it was truly a gift he’d never forget. Now it was up to him to finally take some shots worthy of the thing.

The forests continued to grow denser and thicker until, in almost a shocking snap, they disappeared to reveal a quaint city that he hadn’t quite expected. The first few buildings he passed looked like they may have stood there for hundreds of years, weather worn and faded. Their signs were either scratched to nothingness or blaringly new, shining metal names standing out against an ancient backdrop. He was looking for a motel, figuring there had to be one, even in a town of less than two thousand people. His backup plan was to just sleep in his car. He’d brought his sleeping back and extra blankets, so it wasn’t a huge concern, but he’d still prefer a bed. But whenever he’d tried finding anything online, he’d come up blank.

A fog still covered the town, and though it created an air of calm and mystery that Patton was itching to capture, he also knew the area was surrounded by towering mountains that he also desired so badly. To his right, the buildings stopped abruptly, revealing a grey beach, all rocks and no sand, criss crossed with logs, opening to a dark lake. The other side wasn’t visible through the mist.

The further he drove, he realized the buildings weren’t improving in their modernity, just giving way to more and more old infrastructure. One stood out, a grocery store, it’s lights piercing through the evening dim. Patton didn’t get a look inside before he passed, once again surrounded antique houses and shops, a post office to his left, and a tavern just across from that. A sign above the door read “Vacancy” in peeling white letters, and that was all the enticing Patton needed to pull his car into the gravel parking lot in front of the building. There was only one other vehicle there, a matte red pickup truck that he parked next to, and what appeared to only be three more parking spots. From the high placed windows, a soft orange light bled, and a round of raucous laughter filtered through the cracked open door. Patton smiled. The photographer inside him was going to have a field day here.

He stepped up the concrete steps and ruffled his hair with one hand so it covered his eye, heaving a sigh in hopes to calm his nervous butterflies, and pulled the door open.

All at once, the chatter inside died, and Patton internally shrank as every face in the tavern turned to look at the newcomer. There was a moment of tense silence as he tried his best for a smile and met the gaze of the men scrutinizing him, drinks forgotten on high wooden tables, jubilance halted. Patton waited with baited breath, for someone to do something, why were they all just staring, when a voice spoke from behind the bar.

“Don’t worry about them, sweetheart. We don’t get a lot of new people around here.”

And the lull was broken as suddenly as it started, the men now ignoring him in favor of joking over mugs of fizzing ale. Patton swallowed thickly and turned to the voice, shoving his quivering hands into his pockets and shaking his head again to assure the curls were safely covering his eye. As usual.

The man standing before him, leaning on the bar with an easy smile, was almost enough to take Patton’s breath away. If he were a religious man, he’d go so far as to call him heavenly. Eyes as dark as the depths of the surrounding forests, auburn hair pushed back from his face in what he could only think to describe as an intentional bedhead. His skin was too flawless, teeth just a couple shades too white, everything perfect in a way that was almost…

Patton couldn’t put his finger on it.

“What can I get you, newbie?”

“Uhm-” Patton took a cleansing breath and sat at one of the barstools, all of them empty seeing as the crowd seemed more drawn to the tables in the center of the room, “I don’t come to bars that often. I don’t know.”

The bartender hummed, pushing up his already rolled up white sleeves and giving Patton a once over, almost investigating him. “You drink?”

“I… I guess.”

“Been on the road for a while, tired?”

“Do I look that exhausted?” Patton breathed a laugh, suddenly aching to pop his spine. He’d been driving since before dawn for the past three days, barely hunkering down for a decent sleep before he was off again. He’d been really excited to get here, plus he didn’t want to waste more of his meager break driving.

“I got just what you need, darling.” With a wink, the bartender straightened up and pulled down a series of bottles, cracking his knuckles with flourish before measuring them into a silver canister. “So what brings you to Dewmore?”

“I’m a photographer,” Patton said, “Or, a photography student. Down in Florida.”

The man whistled as he shoveled ice cubes into the mix, “Long drive for some pictures.”

“I’m… dedicated,” Patton laughed, scratching at his neck nervously. “My prof recommended it, said it might be a nice place to spend my break.”

“I assume you’re looking for a place to stay then, as well?” He plopped a cap on the canister and began to shake it above his shoulder, grinning widely, “These guys are always just like, ‘Gimme a beer’ this, ‘Gimme a beer’ that. It’s great to actually make fun drinks again.” With hands flying too fast for Patton to process, he grabbed a glass, popped the lid of the shaker, and poured the deep orange drink, tossing on a green sprig and sliding the drink over. “Enjoy.”

Patton took a cautious sip of the drink and had to fight not to sigh, the refreshing taste a welcome relief after three days of gas station Gatorade and hotel sink water. He could barely taste any alcohol, more focused on the ice cold sweet tartness at the back of his tongue. The bartender looked pleased, huffing a satisfied laugh and beginning to put away his bottles. He was taking another sip, satisfied with the backdrop of joyous chatter and clinking glasses, when he remembered why he’d come in.

“Yes, I am. Uhm, looking for a place to stay, that is.”

The bartender looked at him over his shoulder, “We haven’t had visitors in… a while, at least. You’ve pretty much got your pick of the rooms.”

“Do you have anything facing the water?” He took another sip, the photo possibilities already flowing through his mind. One through the window, just far back enough to catch the flow of the curtains and the chipped wood of the window ledge, a monochromatic lakeshore in the bottom third, a barely visible mountain looming ahead…

“Sure thing, sweetheart. Let me just finish this up, and I’ll get you on the ledger.”

“Patton.” He downed the rest of the drink and rested his elbow on the counter, chin in his palm, an easy smile playing on his lips.

“Hm?”

“My name’s Patton.”

“I’m Roman.” Tossing the towel over his shoulder, Roman gave him another wink before disappearing into the back room, coming back moments later with a thick black book. He was already thumbing through the pages, finally landing on the one he wanted, and spun a pen between his fingers.

“What’s your last name, sweetheart?”

Patton spelled it out for him, and was surprised when the man clapped the book shut after the final letter. “That’s all you need?”

“Yup.”

“No… ID, or anything?” It was at that moment when it occurred to Patton that, although he was legal, his baby face often prompted bouncers and servers back home to ask for identification. Roman hadn’t even blinked before serving him.

“Got anything to hide?”

“Uhm… no, I-”

“Good enough for me. It’s not like we’re a high traffic tourist spot. I don’t think we’ve had anyone take a room in, like, two years, and who knows how many before that. Frankly, I wouldn’t care if you were on the run for murder. Don’t kill me, and we’re solid.”

Patton blanched, unable to tell if the man was being sarcastic. Finally his expression cracked into a smirk and he brandished a key towards Patton, dangling it by the ring. “I’m messing with you. I mean, don’t kill me, that’s legit. Here you go, cutie. Let me know if you need anything.”

With that, he sashayed away with a tray of beers (when on Earth had he filled those?), and the men whooped loudly, startling Patton.

“Easy, boys,” Roman purred, beginning to round the tables, and Patton hopped off the bar stool to get his things from his car. He couldn’t wait to pass out in bed with the knowledge that he could sleep in however late he wanted.

-0-0-0-

But apparently sleep didn’t have the same ideas as him, because even after he was in comfortable clothes and tucked into the covers, he continued to toss and turn. Maybe it was the concept of being alone in a strange town, or the full moon shining through the thin curtains, or just plain excitement, but he suddenly felt wider awake then he had since he started this trip.

There was a soft rattling somewhere across the room and, with begrudging acceptance that he wasn’t going to sleep any time soon, fumbled his glasses on to search for the offending sound. With a grumble, he threw off the blankets and padded across the room to the window and tossed back the curtains, giving the moon a scalding glare for shining so darn brightly. It was the window, fitted loosely in its frame, being shook by the gentle wind that was causing the noise. Patton gave it an experimental tug, followed by a more forceful yank, and found it didn’t budge down at all. Instead, it continued to rattle mockingly, in what sounded almost like whispered giggles as he crossed his arms across his chest.

Fine. He turned his attention to the scenic view before him, letting out a minute shudder as a small gust of wind blew through his thin pajama shirt. Moonlit waves crashed against the rocky shore, tossing up silver spray against the dark backdrop of the forest. Patton took a breath, feeling an overwhelming sense of peace just staring at the silent town, the stone spires rising above the forest-

Wait, what?

Patton blinked sharply a couple times, leaning forward until his nose bumped the window and squinting through the glass. Those… things... definitely looked like manmade objects- the shape made it impossible for them to be natural- but you’d think he’d remember something that looked like a castle directly outside his window. In fact, he’d spent a significant amount of time upon first entering the room just admiring the view, and a castle one hundred percent would have been on his radar. Oh, if the thing was abandoned, imagine the photo opportunities, and even if it wasn’t he could totally just get some of the outside-

Yeah, there was no way he was sleeping now.

Before he’d even processed what he was doing, he’d slipped out of his pajamas and hurriedly pulled on the outfit he’d laid out on the desk chair, because there was no way he was digging through his suitcase to scrounge out more clothes. He threw a beige sweater over his white shirt, however, remembering the chill the night had brought and, after he’d adequate tucked them into his slacks, he threw his camera bag over his shoulder and trotted down the stairs.

Unsurprisingly, the first floor tavern was empty of all customers, overhead lights traded for softer electric lamps on the walls and the illuminated sign above the bar, where Roman was wiping down the counter, seemingly unbothered by the late hour.

“Can’t sleep, sweetheart?” The bartender called out without turning around, tossing his rag across the counter and into a full soapy bucket behind the bar.

“Uh, yeah, something like that,” Patton responded, shaking his bangs so they covered his eye. “I think I’m just too excited to start getting shots.”

“Mmm, you and me both.” He waggled his eyebrows and pulled a bottle of what looked like whiskey off the shelf. “What’s your poison?”

Patton snorted but shook his head, patting his camera bag, “I want to go out, and it’s probably not smart to drink before going out in a strange town at night.”

Roman shrugged before pouring himself a shot and downing it in one smooth motion.

“You’re allowed to drink on the job?”

The bartender hummed, replacing the bottle and locking the cabinet presumably for the night, “Once my tavern is empty, I consider myself off the clock. And I’m my own boss, so I hereby give myself the night off. I have a coffee machine in the back room, one of those Keurigs, if you want something fancy. Hasn’t been used in ages, but I’m sure if you wanted something, I-”

“No, it’s okay. Really.” Patton ducked his head and messed with his shirt, making sure the white collar stood above the neck of his sweater. He made his way over to the bar and took the same stool as before, leaning on the counter as Roman dumped out the dirty cleaning water into the sink. The clock above the bar, barely illuminated enough to see, revealed it was just after midnight. “Are there any old structures, like churches or anything, in the forest?”

Roman tilted his head, giving Patton a look over his shoulder he couldn’t quite understand.

“There’s nothing there besides wolves and ticks, sweetheart,” he said slowly with an almost condescending smile, “Why? Hoping the little town in the middle of nowhere has a mystery?” He rinsed out the bucket and placed it in the cabinet under the sink.

Patton shrugged, scratching at his temple, “I saw something outside of my window.”

“Like a tree?” The rag was rinsed as well and draped over the faucet.

“No, definitely not.” He tried not to feel too offended that Roman was clearly teasing him, but he was certain what he’d seen hadn’t been a tree. They were too tall, too angular, and too symmetrically placed for that.

“Pattycake, I grew up hunting with my dad and partying in those woods, and I would know if something were there.”

“Are you sure?” Patton implored, “There’s definitely something man made, could it be, like, an old castle, or something?”

There was a moment of silence between the two as Roman continued to look at Patton like he was crazy, the barest hints of an impish grin tugging at his lips, before he sucked in a sharp breath; as if he realized something.

On a dime, Roman’s expression contorted into one of anger, eyes alight with fury as he leaned into Patton’s space. As he spoke, his voice almost reverberated, like a choir speaking in unison.

“There is nothing in those woods, Patton. Understand? Don’t go wandering into places you don’t belong, or you won’t like what you find.”

Patton reared back from the forceful words, hand coming up subconsciously to readjust the hair on his face. Roman leaned just a tad closer, growling out a warning, “Got it, sweetheart?” The electric lamps on the walls, once creating such a homey, soft environment, suddenly flickered and Patton flinched, whipping around to face the large room as it seemed to strobe under the malfunctioning lights. Goosebumps spread across his arms as the flashing grew faster and his hand clamped over the back of his neck when a shiver raced up his spine.

“What’s going on? Why are-”

And then the lights went out completely, an eerie quiet settling over the tavern. Roman was silent. Was he even still in the room? Could he have left so quickly? The only sound in the empty room were Patton’s shaky breaths, in through the nose and out through the mouth, as he fought down a scream. He wasn’t a fan of the dark.

A single street light barely shone through the window, too dim to even light up the tables near the glass, and Patton turned to focus on it. In through the nose, out through the mouth. In… out… in… out-

A silhouette appeared in the window.

The lights were back to their original gleam before he could even open his mouth to scream, filling the room with a dull hum as if nothing had even happened. Blinking rapidly, Patton took a calming breath (it’s just old lights, it’s just old lights, relax) and swiveled back in his chair to find that Roman was smiling at him innocently, cleaning out a glass with a rag.

“Everything alright, sweetheart?”

“Didn’t you see that?” Patton asked incredulously.

“See what?” The bartender placed the glass into the last space in a row of them, giving Patton that same condescending grin as before.

Patton sighed and lifted his glasses to rub his eyes tiredly, shaking his head. “I think travelling for so long has me seeing things.” Careful as ever, in the same fashion he’d so masterfully perfected in elementary school, he shook his head to cover his eye- his stupid, left, ‘soulmate’ eye- before removing his hands and letting his glasses fall back into place.

Other kids won’t like it, sweetie. I don’t think the teachers will either.

I know you can’t help it, my love. If I could take this burden from you, I would. But this is yours to handle until… well, you know.

I don’t know why, Patton. You’ll find them someday. And then you’ll understand.

“Why do you do your hair like that?”

“Hmm?” Patton blinked.

Roman smirked, leaning casually on the counter in front of Patton, “Covering half of your face like that. You shouldn’t, you know. You’re a stunner.” With that, he reached forward, intent on moving that hair out of his face.

No.

“NO!” Patton yelled, stumbling off the barstool just as Roman’s hand made contact with his face. He ducked his head, roughly scraping his hair back in place with shaking hands, but the damage was done. A single cute guy compliments him and he forgets the habit he’s built up for years? How could he be so stupid-

“Everything alright? I’m sorry for scaring you, sweetheart.”

Was it possible he hadn’t seen it? Maybe Patton had moved fast enough, maybe the bartender had been too surprised to get a good look, maybe everything was fine. Roman didn’t seem horrified, or at all perturbed. Instead, he just looked… worried.

Either way, after that reaction, Patton was aching to be left alone to stew in his embarrassment. His rented room held nothing for him that he wanted, and sleep felt farther than ever, so his only choice was outside. The promises of a maybe-crumbling ancient building, illuminated by a full moon, were far more tempting than anything inside had to offer.

“Actually,” Patton said nervously, “A coffee would be great.”

Roman squinted at him, biting on the inside of his cheek before huffing a breathy laugh through his nose. “Alright, darling. Give me just a second to dust off the Keurig.”

The moment he disappeared behind the door to the backroom, Patton tightened his hold on the camera bag and sprinted from the tavern, into the grips of the cool night.

-0-0-0-

What would he say when he got back to the tavern? Would Roman make him leave the inn? Had he crossed a line he hadn’t known existed; would he have to cut his trip early because he couldn’t help his curiosity? Was bothering the only innkeeper in town really the smartest decision to make?

All wonderful questions that Patton wished he’d considered before running.

But if he did have to leave, and if this was his last night in this delightful and equally terrifying little town, he was going to make the most of it. At least, that’s what he’d thought he would do as he’d left the few city lights behind and treading deeper into the forest. He had a flashlight with him, thank goodness, so he wasn’t completely screwed, and he’d already gotten a few great shots. He stayed in the areas that the full moon could still shine through the trees, and some of the clouds had rolled away, so he was having the time of his life working with silhouettes against the star filled sky (thanks to the little to no light pollution Dewmore offered).

The more prominent thought in his mind, however, were the spires steadily growing closer above the treeline. He couldn’t understand what Roman had been talking about. How could anyone living in this town not see whatever he was walking towards?

(Admittedly, curiosity was also a huge reason he was chasing something he’d been warned to avoid. He’d never been that great at impulse control.)

It had to be nearly two in the morning when he came to an incline; a steep path constructed entirely of rocks fist-sized and larger. At the top, Patton could just barely see what looked to be the back of the castle, and he bounced slightly on his toes in excitement. He couldn’t tell from this distance the state it was in, or if it was possible anyone still lived there, but dang it if he wasn’t going to give it a go before he left. He’d walked all this way, after all.

The first few steps up the hill were the loudest thing he’d heard since he’d started his midnight adventure, and he cringed as they dropped away under his feet, knocking against each other as they fell to the ground.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Patton spun around, his flashlight slipping out of his hands. It rolled down between the rocks, casting split second light beams in every direction as it bounced towards the source of the voice, and stopped dead in the middle between the two of them. It settled on an indent created by Patton’s steps, aimed at the newcomer. Patton breathed a sigh of relief.

“Roman, goodness gracious! You scared the bejesus out of me,” Patton laid a hand on his chest and let out a huge gust of air. Roman didn’t move, and for the first time he noticed the absolute glare the bartender was giving him. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uhm… sorry about the… leaving. Thing. Are you mad?”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Well, apparently they weren’t going to talk about it. “Oh- I’m sorry, is this private property? I didn’t see any signs, I’m- Wait, but look, Roman! See, that’s what I was talking-”

“You. Shouldn’t. Be. Here.”

Patton blinked at the harshness in his words, taken aback. How was this the same easy going bartender that he’d met earlier tonight? Whatever was beyond this hill, though, Roman obviously wasn’t going to allow Patton to see. Maybe it was dangerous, or something? Either way, he couldn’t deny his disappointment. “Yeah. I’m sorry, I’ll leave-”

“How did you get here?”

“I… um, walked?”

“No!” Roman hissed, finally stepping forward and plucking up the flashlight from the ground, “You shouldn’t be able to see the castle, or go near it, how the hell did you get here?!”

Before he could answer, the other man froze, whipping around as if he’d heard a noise from his left. And then Patton blinked, and Roman was in front of him, pulling him back down to solid ground. He dragged him by the arm to a fallen tree that was propped up against its own splintered stump, leaving it angled just a few feet off the ground.

“How did you- You were just over there, how-”

“Get down!”

“What?”

“Get. Down!” Roman shoved his shoulders and Patton had no choice but to collapse, blending into a pile of ferns beneath the bend of the tree. “Take off the backpack, put it in front of you. It blends in better than you do.” He yanked off the dark green camera bag as he spoke, situating it in front of Patton. “Don’t move, don’t make a sound, don’t fucking breathe, Patton, I swear.” The flashlight flicked off and thumped to the ground as Roman walked away, leaving him standing in the pale moonlight. Patton debated reaching for the flashlight, but that would mean exposing himself from the foliage he was tucked in and under, and Roman had seemed really scared.

There was a rustle in the underbrush in front of Roman, and the photographer shoved his fist into his mouth before he could gasp.

“Roman, it’s so nice to see you back home. It’s been far too long.”

“It’s been hardly a month, mother.”

The woman that emerged from the tree’s shadows wore a black cloak, nearly blending into the forest around her as the fabric swirled hypnotically by her ankles with each step. Silver embroidery made up the tight bodice and strung together the corset front, meeting at the bottom in an intricate knot and trailing almost down to the earth in two strands. How her intricate updo had stayed intact through a walk in the forest, Patton couldn’t understand.

However, if this was Roman’s mother, he did understand where he got his looks. The only word that came to his mind was ethereal; all smooth pale skin, those same impossibly dark eyes, red lips curved in a constant, easy smile. She was beautiful, but she was terrifying, and Patton backed up more into his fern hiding spot.

She lifted her flared sleeves towards Roman as she stepped into the moonlit opening and he pulled her hands towards himself, kissing both of her cheeks before releasing her.

“A month is too long, darling,” She purred, letting the back of her hand trail down his cheek. “I don’t understand why you find it necessary to stay amongst those humans when you could be with your family.”

“Because I want more than just… lounging, and talking with my brothers. Do you have to bring this up every time I visit?” Despite his slightly aggravated tone, he leaned into her touch.

“When you’re older, you’ll look back at these choices with embarrassment and resentment.”

“Maybe.”

“I just don’t want you to blame me when you do.”

“I could never, I promise.”

She sighed heavily, “They miss you, Roman. We all do.”

“Which is why I’m here, mom. You act as if I’ve been gone a millenia.”

“Worrying is what a mother does best,” She smiled fondly, tapping his cheek with her finger, “You’re home, darling. Drop the glamor? It must be tiring keeping it up constantly.”

There was a moment of hesitation, where Patton couldn’t help but tense up along with the man in front of him. Then the air shifted, like it had been holding a breath it could finally let out, and though there was nothing different that Patton could see from Roman’s back, a certain jolt of fear hit him out of nowhere.

“There’s my boy.” The woman drew him in for a proper hug, one hand reaching around his back to rest on his head. She pressed a kiss to his hair when he wrapped his arms around her in turn. Suddenly her nose wrinkled and she pulled away, holding his shoulders at arm’s length. “Dearest, you smell like humans again.”

Roman chuckled, but there was a new quiver in his voice. “The only flaw in being surrounded by them so often. Let me change, and I’ll come meet you for dinner.”

She didn’t move, eyes narrowing as she watched his face. “No… it’s not you.”

“What? What else could it possibly-”

“There’s a human here.” Her voice was utterly calm, but she pushed Roman behind her resolutely. “There must be.”

“What?!”

A low growl filled the air, and it took Patton a few moments to realize the sound was originating from her. She stepped past Roman, her dress flowing soundlessly along with her as she glared into the woods around them.

Her eyes flashed red.

Once again, Patton shoved his fist into his mouth to hide a scream. That same alien jolt of fear returned as she moved closer to him, seemingly zeroing in on his location.

“Mother, come now. You’re being silly. Humans can't even come near here, remember? You made sure of that yourself!”

Patton tore his eyes away from the advancing woman and his breath caught in his throat. Roman had followed his mother, trying to placate her gently with a hand on her arm, and in doing so, had turned towards Patton’s hiding spot.

When Patton opened his eyes shortly after being born, he was taken away from his mother, despite his parent’s strong objections and his wails. He was returned hours later, much to their relief. On his birth certificate, his right eye was labeled blue. His left eye, the side usually taken by the natural color of his soulmate’s, was labeled ‘Defective’.

When he was set to start school at six years old, his mother sat him down on his bed and taught him how to properly cover his left eye with his hair. They’d grown it out enough to do so. Patton had asked why it was necessary, and subsequently learned the truth that not all people were as accepting and loving as his parents.

When he was ten, he returned home from school crying. He dropped into his mother’s arms and she held him until his sobs turned to sniffles, until he could explain between sharp breaths that a bully at school had revealed Patton’s eye while trying to force him into a fight, and… well, his classmates hadn’t taken it well. Those who weren’t downright afraid of him, refused to eat or sit with him anymore. But it wasn’t fair. He couldn’t help it!

His eye was labeled ‘Defective’, because never before had the doctor’s seen a child born with a red eye. Not the pale color that came with pinkeye, or an allergic reaction, but the iris itself was such a bold, blood red color that it had left the team scrambling for any record of such an incident. They were left with more questions than answers. But the world had yet to understand how soulmates worked in the first place, so they chalked it up to another universal mystery.

Every day for as long as he could remember, Patton had stared into a mirror first thing in the morning, greeted with calm, airy blue on one side, and fiery, almost electric red on the other.

So it was jarring to see such a sight, yet reversed, on another person. But as Roman tugged again on his mother’s arm, there was no denying it; the man’s own color was a gleaming ruby, and the other was Patton’s very own blue.

“Mother, look,” Roman blurted out, scooping up the discarded flashlight from the forest floor, “This is a human tool. I’m sure this is what you’re smelling.”

She ripped the device from his hand, shaking it in his face, “That is still far too close to home, Roman! Humans have been here, and I guarantee they are still nearby.”

“And you don’t know how many there are, Mom!” Roman insisted, taking her hands. “It doesn’t matter how they got here, or why they did,” A slow grin spread across his face, highlighting a pair of glinting fangs, “Why don’t you gather the family, and we can find them together? I can’t even remember the last time I really ate.”

The woman was satiated by this answer, though she still cast the forest cautious looks. “Stay put, Roman. We’ll be back shortly.” Her nose wrinkled again. “Along with a change of clothes for you.”

And then she was gone, the only remaining trace being the tiny cloud of dust she’d left behind. Roman was calm for a moment, making sure she was really gone, before his demeanor dropped. The cocky smirk was gone, and he no longer held the confidence he’d had, either as a bartender or in the presence of his mother.

“We don’t have a lot of time, c’mon! Let’s go!” He crouched before the log, extending his hand to Patton.

“What the hell are you?!” Patton shrieked. Interesting, that those were the first words from his jumble of thoughts that came out.

“Oh, come on, do you really need to ask? I’m pretty sure you already know!”

And yeah, Patton was pretty sure he knew. He wasn’t an idiot. He’d had a teen Twilight phase, so of course the obvious answer was there. It just… it wasn’t possible. His brain was scrambling for any kind of other solution, anything that made sense, but it all kept circling to the same answer.

The cute bartender at the inn was a vampire.

…

Okay then.

Next problem.

“I… yeah. I think I got it.”

“Good! Now let’s go!” Roman grabbed Patton’s hand and yanked, effectively pulling him from his hiding place and nearly tearing the arm from it’s socket. Patton stumbled from the sudden movement and tripped on his camera bag, yelping as he crashed into Roman’s chest.

The vampire’s hands instantly wrapped around his waist, steadying him as he found his footing.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m all good, I just-”

Roman was much taller than he’d thought; that was the initial thought that came to mind as he looked up at the man holding him. The second was, well, the fact that his jaw had dropped open upon seeing Patton’s eyes, and for the first time since they’d met, the guy was completely speechless.

Patton felt his left eye began to tingle as they shifted into its own natural color. He ignored it.

“You really didn’t see it? At the bar?” Patton whispered.

“No, you moved too fast,” Roman murmured, bringing a hand up to Patton’s cheek. “You… you’re my-”

He must have sensed something, or heard something that was too quiet for Patton’s ears, because his head whipped towards the castle.

“We need to go. Now.” Roman intertwined their fingers and pulled him into a run towards the town.

“Wait, no! My bag!” He tugged hard to try and get his hand free, but he was truly no match for Roman.

“Not important right now, sweetheart!”

Without the aid of his flashlight, and enveloped by the darkness of the forest, Patton was totally blind, relying only on Roman’s grip to keep him from falling. Branches hit his face and roots reached up to trip him, but every time he stumbled, the hand tightened and pulled him back upright.

A howl cut through the air.

“What now, werewolves?!” Patton shrieked.

“Don’t be ridiculous, werewolves aren’t real!” Roman scoffed, “They’re normal wolves! What, you think just because we’re vampires, we’re unable to have pets?”

“Is this really a conversation we should be having at this exact moment?!” Patton shot back.

“You’re right, you’re right, okay.”

The howls were growing closer, and it was clear by Roman’s increased pace that this wasn’t about to be a friendly reunion.

“Can we outrun them?!”

“I take it you’ve never met a wolf!”

Patton looked up at him desperately, already struggling to keep up the conversation and keep up with Roman.

“I thought vampires had… like, super speed!”

“I wouldn’t be able to go for long, especially carrying you. Jump!”

Patton leapt blindly, feeling the side of a fallen log scrape the toes of his shoes. The landing was rough, sparks of pain shooting up his legs, but he was quickly pulled back upright.

“I don’t have the energy! I haven’t eaten in months!”

There were more yowls, definitely closer this time, followed by the sound of multiple animals fighting, barely louder than a voice shouting (presumably) at the racket. Whether it was the wolves having a spat, or a prey animal that had gotten in the way of the hunt, Patton didn’t know. It drew out a small whimper from him either way.

He didn’t want to be next.

“Do you trust me?” Roman suddenly gasped, holding his hand firmer.

“What?!”

“Do. You. Trust. Me?!”

Patton didn’t exactly think he had a choice right now. His feet were aching, his lungs were burning, and he wasn’t sure he could run another minute without his legs giving out. “I- Yeah! Sure!”

“Good enough,” Roman grunted bitterly, screeching to a halt, and using his grip on the other’s arm to stop him too. Before Patton could even bring himself to complain, or scream at him, or just incoherently yell, the vampire was drawing him to his chest, puppeting his arms so they were around his shoulders.

“Hold on.”

Obediently, Patton tightened the grip. “Why-”

And then there was a sharp pain in his neck, and his eyes widened. The sting almost immediately morphed into a pleasant warmth, the distant howling being replaced by a faint humming, the buzzing of his own mind calming, becoming numb until the only thought in his head was Roman, Roman, Roman-

He could feel Roman’s hand on his head, not restricting it, but cupping the back of it so he could lean against him as he stared up at the night sky, the full moon, and the slow blurring of the tops of the pine trees. His other arm was wrapped around his waist tightly, holding him up, and Patton was beyond grateful for the support as his legs began to turn to jelly. The last thing Patton felt was the vampire scooping up his legs and his head being cradled against the soft material of Roman’s shirt.

Then everything went dark.

-0-0-0-

Patton woke up slowly, squinting against the harsh sunlight streaming through his window. He dropped an arm across his eyes lazily, letting out a low groan at his pounding headache. There were voices downstairs in the tavern, and what sounded like dishes clanging, and he wondered if somehow this place was also a restaurant. How on earth could anybody run an establishment like that? It’s like the place never slept-

A wave of nausea pooled in his gut due to the speed of which he sat up but that wasn’t important, not right now. He flung his blankets back and… oh. He was dressed in his pajamas. Last he could remember, in the woods, running with Roman, he’d been in day clothes, in the sweater and shirt that was now draped on a chair across the room. His camera bag was... on the desk. His shoes were by the door, dirt free.

He raised his finger tips to his neck, expecting to feel a raised scab, or scar, any sign that he’d been bitten. There was nothing.

He swung his legs over the sides of the beds and immediately shut his eyes, fighting off an explosion of dizziness induced sparks that shot across his vision. It sure felt as if he’d lost some blood. As much as he didn’t want to believe he had a hangover from one drink, that could also be an explanation. He’d always been a bit of a lightweight.

A dream. Was it all just… a dream?

A feeling of disappointment washed over him and he sighed, running his hands up through his hair. Something soft snagged on his fingers and he carefully detangled it from the curls, pulling it out curiously. He blinked at the fern leaf between his finger tips. That definitely hadn’t happened between his car, the tavern, or the room... So-

He sucked in a breath sharply as his eyes locked with the mirror’s reflection in front of him, every thought coming to a halt.

Because staring back, for the first time ever, were two perfectly blue eyes.

I have a bunch of world building ideas that weren’t included in this fic, shoot me an ask if you have any lore questions!

General taglist:

@max-is-tired

@private-snippers

@joylessnightsky

#lywrites #tsshipmonth2020 #royality #roman sanders #patton sanders #vampire au #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides au #sanderssides #sanderssidesfanfiction

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kangaroo-sniper-imagine · 3 years

Text

Mercs who didn’t pay attention to their family trees

-I’m only doing a few mercs, cuz otherwise this would be huge-

Scout and Spy

When Miss Pauling introduced their newest recruit, The Thief, everyone was at least interested with the new blood. They were useful on the field; fast, silent, deadly, quickly able to steal the info case and dashing back to safety in record time. They were closed off at first, like many are in a new environment, but quickly opened up as soon as they were settled in.

The only person who didn’t quite connect with them was Spy (shocker). There was something about the new recruit that stuck him odd, something familiar about them that he couldn’t just put his finger on. The Frenchman’s son felt similarly.

“It’s like I already know ‘em; which is weird ‘cuz I’m dead certain we’ve never met before.”

It wasn’t until several weeks later, as the ten of you all were joined in the rec room, just enjoying each other’s company after a successful match. Jacque sat in the corner with Mick {not to derail but I totally think that they’re secret best friends who roast each other on the field}, both sipping at their drinks and idly talking as Jeremey sat with them, having a loud conversation with Jane from across the room.

Then they heard it. A deep, throaty chortle that was extremely unattractive, coming from across the room, coming from you

Both Jacque and Jeremy froze, the sound too familiar for it to be comfortable, eyes snapping to you, where you were wildly laughing with Travish. The Scotsman was sloshed and laughed along with your, his thundering laughter almost drowning out your own. Almost.

The sniper took a slow sip of his beer as he as well looked upon the commotion. He hummed in thought, and turned to the frozen spy. “Izzit jus’ me,” he drawled, gesturing with is beer can to you, “or do their laugh sound a lot like yours?”

Scout slowly turned to his father, rage in his eyes, but all Spy could do was watch you laugh that awful laugh. His brain slowly connected the evidence, memories of 20+ years ago invaded his mind, a dalliance with a woman who looks shockingly like you, the nose that you share with him and Jeremy, your strange obsession with your appearance, and most damning of all; the shitty laugh that you’ve seem to inherit from Jacque.

With a deep breath, the Frenchman stood up, determined to get out of the room and hide in his abode so he could scream in peace, but the sudden influx of the realization, rather, caused him to faint.

He awoke, what he assumed, several hours later, in a familiar camper bed. In his peripheral, Jacque could see Mick smoking a cigarette and reading a newspaper with one hand, a mug of coffee in the other. Without even looking up to confirm that the Frenchman was awake, the sniper spoke.

“Your kids are right pissed at you, mate.”

Jacque cursed.

Heavy and Soldier

Pauling was ecstatic to introduce more help, probably under the impression that this person to pick up the slack the other leaves so that her evenings won’t be filled with killing and covering up murders and thefts. Some young thing with a thick, almost indiscernible accent who spoke rarely and quietly. You were called the Electrician, for your… odd choice of weaponry.

Your gun was one of your own design, one you were very proud of, that rather than bullets shot out electrical charges, either stunning your opponent to help assist another teammate in a kill or give off a charge so intense it kills. You spent most of your free time in your assigned work shop improving your gun’s design and creating new weapons.

More than once, the team would hear a loud scream and the sound of a loud thud, only to come and find your door blown wide open and you stuck in the adjacent wall, hair shocked to stiffness and a new white streak added to your hair. Needless to say, you kept the team on their toes with your eccentricities. For some reason, your antics made Mikhail exceptionally worried. It was a weird knee jerk reaction he had, something that hadn’t flared up since he was younger, watching over his sisters.

About a month after your arrival, Jane caught you in his raccoon infantry pen, cooing over the animals that flocked to you. It was the first time he saw you smile since you’ve gotten there, and the first time he’s seen you out of your combat gear, now you wore a too large tee shirt and denim shorts, toes in the Arizona sand, scratching the chins of the furry animals. Deciding to try his luck, Jane approached you with a bellowing welcome, startling you, but you greeted him back regardless.

Jane noticed how much you liked watching the raccoons play with each other, but noticed you looked sad too.

“What’s the long face for, private?”

Your face pinched. When you spoke your words were slow, not used to English. “They have… family. I do not.” With a heavy sigh, you tried to elaborate. Jane didn’t mind waiting for you to collect your thoughts or your thick accent. Years of hanging out with Travish and Ludwig extremely sloshed had taught Jane patience in regards to others when they’re trying to speak an unfamiliar language.

“Mother was from… Russia? But father was from Norway, and mother went to there with him. When mother and father… died,” Jane’s heart twinged at the way your face fell, “I do not know how to find mother’s family in Russia, and father had no family in Norway. So I stay in Norway.” A beat of silence passed as you scratched the head of a curious baby raccoon that strayed closed to you. “I stay alone.”

Jane busted out crying, pulling you into a bear hug and vowing to be your surrogate family for as long as you want. He made it his mission to figure out who your family is. The first thing he did was write down the name of your parents, fully planning on hunting down your relatives after some good old fashioned American bonding.

Just as he was about to reunite with you after grabbing a baseball form his room, the American ran into Mikhail, who seemed pissed off

“You touch Sasha?” He accused, one large finger jabbing into the soldier’s chest. Jane couldn’t find it in himself to get mad at the accusation, he was a man on a mission to cheer up a sad kid and no angry Red was gonna stop him.

“No time,Sputnik! There’s a sad private who needs a moral boost and a good old game of catch!”

Rage quickly turned to confusion, then mild understanding. “Electrician is sad?”

Soldier gave a speedrun version of your sad backstory, even going as far to show the names of your parents to the Heavy. The Russian surveyed the sheet and he sighed. “That is not how name of mother is spelled.” He informed.

Jane scoffed. “And how would you know?”

Mikhail threw the American an unimpressed look. “Because family name is mother’s name before marriage.”

There was a second of realization.

“... is it a common last name?”

“... nyet.”

“... you might want to call your mother to confirm something.”

“... Heavy just might.”

—-

The next morning, Mikhail knocked on Jane’s door so early in the morning, the vet wasn’t even awake yet already doing his morning exercises.

The American looked up blearily to the Russian, one hand scratching his buzz cut head.

Mikhail looked grim. “Heavy call mother. Mother says that Electrician’s mother is cousin to her.”

Soldier mulled over the information. “So… your mama’s cousin is Private Zappy’s mama, so that makes us-

“Makes ME second cousin.” Mikhail insisted.

With an air of smugness, Jane flashed his left hand, displaying a wedding band. “Then I’m their second cousin in-law.”

Mikhail grumbled in annoyance and rolled his eyes, complaining in Russian. “Right. Sister Zhanna’s big mistake.”

With a sense of new found energy, Soldier stuck his chin up high and began marching towards your room, seemingly not aware that he was in only a pair of his tighty whiteys.

Mikhail sighed again but followed Jane regardless to tell you the news of your newfound family.

Medic (italics is German cuz lets be honest, who wants to translate all that)

After months of complaining to Pauling, asking for more on field medical help, upper management finally relented and hired a new mercenary, some bright young thing going by The Nurse.

You were studious, and compared to Ludwig you were very tamed. You saw this opportunity as a job to perform and not a way to finally experiment legally on people without getting arrested the way Ludwig does. You took your work seriously, dutifully dressing every wound, handing out pain medication, assisting Ludwig in his surgeries. You certainly helped lessen his work load during battle, helping with minor injuries so that the doctor could focus on his Ubercharge and on more serious injuries.

You two were professional to each other; despite showing you weren’t exactly sadistic you never chastised Ludwig for his somewhat cruel experiments, and you were always respectful to him and everyone else around you, which is something that impressed him (considering how noting the rest of the team is).

One day while experimenting on Heavy, you solemnly standing next to the doctor with your face covered like the good little health professional you were, the Medic fuzzed in German, adding, “I need a bone saw.”

Without him translating, you turned to your side and snatched the instrument off the tray, passing it to the doctor.

After a moment of thought, Ludwig spoke again. “You speak German?”

“Ja, I am from Germany after all.”

The russain’s rib finally took the blade and now was slicing easily. “What a coincidence. Which part?”

“Munich, but I left while I was very young when my family moved.” After another brief pause, you add, “I actually wanted to become a nurse because of Munich.

Ludwig didn’t mention that he, as well, came from the same city, rather, he decided to prod you and learn more. It was so rare to meet someone he could have a conversation in his mother tongue with.

“What in Munich made you want to become a nurse?” Reaching into Heavy’s chest with a scalpel, Ludwig began to sever the arteries attached to the heart.

“The University. My family lived nearby, and seeing the students come and go made me want to join them… actually a relative went there. My family was very proud of him and I wanted to go with him, but, ah, I was only a child.” Without being asked, you held out a silver pan that Ludwig deposited the heart.

The doctor started the timer, watching the mutilated chest cavity, waiting for the oregano to regrow due to his most recent experimental ‘medicine’. “Hmm, which relative?”

“Oh, my father’s brother’s wife’s…. something.” You replied idly, fetching a notebook and pencil to record the time. “Nephew or cousin’s nephew or something. It is a distant relation. Lost his license though.”

“Really? How?”

“He removed someone’s skeleton if you can believe it.”

Ludwig’s fist clenched so hard that the stopwatch broke. Dammit, now he has to start the experiment all over again.

#tf2 spy x reader #tf2 scout x reader #tf2 soldier x reader #tf2 heavy x reader #tf2 medic x reader #tf2 x reader #team fortress 2 #team fortress 2 x reader #tf2 #tf2 medic #tf2 scout #tf2 soldier #tf2 heavy #tf2 spy

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