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fantasythetrashywriter · 4 months

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Starry Skies

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The cerulean sky was a mesmerizing sight to behold, stretching out as far as the eye could see. The moon remained elusive, its presence shrouded by a thick veil of clouds. The sky appeared as a mystical nebula, with hues of lavender, powder blue, and ivory, swirling together in a mesmerizing dance with the deep blue. The convergence of these colors created an awe-inspiring masterpiece that left anyone spellbound.

Madoka didn't know if she properly caught its excellence in that small paragraph, or if there was a word fitting its greatness. “Beautiful” was too much of an understatement, “breathlessly amazing” seemed more… accurate, even if it wasn't quite fitting.

She sat on a large, grassy hill, which presented a beautiful and breathtaking view of the city below, its energetic lights shining lively if she ever took her eyes away from the sky. But she couldn't. The city was so beautiful, her beloved home where she grew up, but at that moment, the sky was so much more majestic than anything else in the world. It was out of this world after all. Her entire attention was so transfixed on the azure sky that she forgot for a split second that she wasn't alone.

Sitting beside her was another girl, with hair as dark as coal. The color of her eyes was a mesmerizing shade of brilliant amethyst, which sparkled and shone like the facets of a precious gemstone. They were undoubtedly one of the most stunning and captivating features of her face, drawing the attention of anyone who looked upon her. Her hair meanwhile was so silky and long it danced with the wind effortlessly. Its ethereal beauty seemed almost otherworldly, as if it belonged to a fairy tale princess or a mythical goddess. She certainly looked like a princess, her poise and elegance exuded such a feeling. While she was so perfect-looking and so beautiful, what had to take the cake was her smile. Gentle and soft, but it was exceedingly rare, even if it was a small smile it was like a diamond, so rare and yet so beautiful.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Madoka whispered, the wind carrying the words to the girl beside her. Even as she said those words, she never took her eyes away from the sky, still captivated by its glorious magnificence.

“Yes, you are.”

It took a few seconds for Madoka to process those words, and her brows furrowed. Did she just…?

Madoka tore her eyes away from the sky and looked at Homura. The other girl merely smiled at her, a genuine smile that just made Madoka want to melt. Whenever that smile of hers would be shown to her and her only, she’d feel like fainting or squealing in joy. Of course, she never did these, for it would be too embarrassing to act as such. It made her feel so special, and part of her was irritated for even thinking of such a selfish thought, but now wasn’t the time for negativity.

“What…did you say?” Madoka asked hesitantly, staring at Homura with oddly nervous and somewhat hopeful eyes. It was a little-known fact that she had a crush on the black-haired girl, and having those feelings reciprocated would be a miracle, but she believed that to be impossible. Homura was far, far out of her league, it was almost unbelievable that she was even her friend.

Then again, miracles are about the impossible coming possible so she had a chance.

Homura smiled and shook her head. “It’s nothing.” the black-haired girl diverted her attention from Madoka to the starry skies, her relaxed and peaceful smile growing ever-so-slightly as she took in its vastness.

Madoka had recently learned that Homura liked stargazing, even if she didn't do it often anymore. The discovery had been an accident when she caught Homura staring at the skies at night. She saw her doing it, again, and again and so she finally confronted her about it. She was curious as to what her friend liked, the black-haired girl was very reserved and never told anyone about what she liked. Homura ended up admitting to her, and so Madoka came here.

Madoka could see why Homura liked the night sky so much, its beauty was mesmerizing and filled with so many stars. When she first saw it she forgot how to breathe, which was probably why she would call it “a breathless sight”.

“Do you like it?” Homura asked, turning away from the sky and looking straight at Madoka. “I do…” Madoka replied, her voice trailing off at the end as she got spellbound once more. She could never stop looking at this, but the beautiful sky reminded her of Homura for some reason.

Maybe it was because of how dark and mysterious it looked, so similar to Homura. It was also because of how beautiful it was, its magnificent stars shining beautifully in the darkness. The way the moon was hiding also reminded her of Homura, who always kept her feelings beneath a mask of coldness. But when Homura let her guard down, revealing her true self, it was a sight to behold, just like the beauty of the night sky. Madoka found herself filled with unbridled joy whenever Homura revealed her true personality, likes, and dislikes. It was a moment that made her heart leap with happiness.

She wished Homura would show that side more often but for reasons unknown, her friend refused to show it. Every time her mask came off, she’d fix it immediately, leaving everyone to wonder if they had imagined it. However, when she is with Madoka, it takes her longer to put the mask back on, as if she feels more comfortable showing her true self to her. It makes her feel special, but she sometimes feels like thinking that way is too selfish.

Madoka and Homura sat side by side, gazing up at the twinkling stars above. The night was quiet and peaceful, with only the occasional rustling of leaves or chirping of crickets breaking the silence. Well, she assumed Homura was looking at the stars, she couldn't tell where the other girl's gaze was fixed. Still, the simple act of being together in this tranquil moment was enough to bring a sense of calm and contentment to both of them.

A bolt of light suddenly disturbed the calm sky, streaking diagonally across the horizon as if it were falling from the sky. At that moment, Madoka's mind was jolted with recognition, and she realized exactly what it was that she was witnessing.

Madoka leaped up from her seat, causing a gentle breeze to stir around her. “Look, it’s a shooting star!” she squealed, pointing at the sky in excitement. This was her very first time witnessing one, and she couldn’t contain her joy and wonder at the magical sight.

Homura laughed from behind her, causing Madoka’s cheeks to flush with warmth as her heart started beating even faster. It was already beating fast from the excitement of seeing a shooting star, and now it was even faster hearing the other girl’s sweet laugh. She felt very lucky to be experiencing two rare events at the same time - witnessing a shooting star and hearing Homura's laugh.

Homura walked towards her and stood beside her, gazing up at the sky with a smile on her face. Her voice was filled with wonder as she remarked, "You rarely ever see shooting stars nowadays. We must be really lucky tonight, huh?" Madoka couldn't agree more. She was grateful for the opportunity to witness such a beautiful sight and to hear Homura's laughter.

As she turned to face Homura, her own smile beamed with joy, Homura couldn't help but feel that this was even more beautiful and precious than a thousand shooting stars combined. Madoka remembered something and shook Homura’s arm gently. "Oh, we have to make a wish!"

Madoka closed her eyes and clasped her hands together as if in prayer while Homura watched her. After a few moments of silence, Madoka opened her eyes and looked at Homura excitedly. “Did you make a wish?” Homura nodded in response. "What did you wish for?" Madoka asked, barely able to contain her curiosity. Homura's amethyst eyes twinkled with amusement as she giggled softly. "If I told you, it wouldn't come true, now would it?" Madoka couldn't help but whine at that, having forgotten about that part of the deal. “Could you at least give me a hint? Pretty please…?” she pleaded. Homura giggled again, sounding like music to Madoka's ears. "I’m sorry, Madoka, I can't do that. It's against the rules," she replied with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Madoka knew that she couldn't get an answer out of her friend and whined again, feeling a little disappointed.

“Oh, fine.” Madoka conceded with a childish fake pout.

The both of them stared at the stars in silence, before Homura spoke up, “You know, the stars truly are beautiful tonight. It’s kinda hard seeing them in the city, with all the lights.” Madoka hummed in agreement. Living in the city, it was rare to see so many stars clearly. Usually, the lights and sometimes smogs of the city obscured the true beauty of the night sky, leaving nothing but a veil of darkness overhead. But out here, away from the business of the city, the stars shone with such a brilliance that left Madoka feeling small yet awestruck.

Madoka peered at Homura inquisitively, taking her attention off the sky once more. “How did you find out about this place?”

“I…” Homura began, pausing to think about what to say. She was unsure if she could share this detail with someone like Madoka, a person quick to worry. But since Madoka was asking, she had to give her the full answer; Madoka would know if she was lying anyway. “I…explored, for a bit,” she admitted, hesitating a little as she wondered if she chose her words correctly.

Madoka blinked. “You…explored?” she paused a little to think about her answer. But this hill was just a few steps out of the city, so wouldn’t that mean-? “Wait, you went outside the city, by yourself?” she managed to stop herself from shrieking in worry. Homura gazed at her, wondering what to say. “Well…yes, besides, it’s not so far off.”

Madoka decided to calm down. It probably wouldn't do much if she panicked over something that happened…when did she find this place?

“When did you explore?” Madoka asked, looking at Homura curiously. Homura looked at her and then looked to the sky, seemingly pondering the matter. “I guess…when I was 11?”

“I see…” Madoka looked away from her and looked towards the sky to take in its entirety once more. They sat there in silence for a bit, gazing at the stars. After a few minutes, Madoka ended up making small talk to hear Homura’s beautiful voice again, their chatting eventually made them forget about the skies because of how deep they were in conversation. The night was peaceful, and all Madoka could hear was her voice and Homura’s along with the occasional chirping of the crickets and the blowing of the wind.

She didn’t want this night to end.

But alas, everything ends eventually, and so she and Homura end up parting ways after a few hours together.

As she walked home, Madoka couldn't help but feel very happy, as she got to experience so many wonderful things in one night. This night was truly magical, and it was even more magical because Madoka got to spend it with the girl she loved.

She giggled and walked home in delight.

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MADOHOMU’S IS IN COMMISSION!!! (Fantasy unlocked MadoHomu!)

I’m back, this time with a MadoHomu fic!! And yes, I used the cliche “lovers stargazing”, simply because I felt like it, LOL. I’ve been writing too much Homu-centric angst and I desperately need a cure, so here it is.

I freaking LOVE MadoHomu, I hope I wrote this well!

Also, don’t expect me to use the vivid imagery a lot, it’s not my strong suit and I absolutely suck at it, LOL.

Anyway, I should publish another Homu-centric angsty one-shot in a few days, maybe.

I really hoped you enjoyed! Also, you can consider this test writing, majority of my one-shots are tests.

#puella magi madoka magica #pmmm #madohomu #homumado #Kaname Madoka #Akemi Homura #I LOVE THESE TWO SOOOOOO MUCH!!!!!#I CAN’T STOP SHIPPING THEM #HELP #One of Fantasy’s trash

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nwgdphoto · 3 years

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In late May 2021, I went for a walk with my crush, and he mentioned wanting to take me somewhere special. We arrived at a lovely park around 5 o'clock in the evening, just as the sun was setting. We found a charming spot by the riverbank to pause and enjoy the breathtaking view. The sky displayed a vast expanse of colors as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the gently flowing river. My head rested softly on his shoulder, and our hands were intertwined.

On the way back, we both agreed that it was best not to continue seeing each other, as we had anticipated. Although we exchanged goodbyes, I found myself unexpectedly consumed by an endless obsession with sunsets. For nearly half a month, I made it a daily ritual to come to this place and capture the beauty of the setting sun. Over time, I began to understand the optimal time for capturing the golden hour, the park's layout, and the trajectory of the sunset.

Initially, I hadn't precisely determined the sunset time and relied on intuition to estimate it. So, on this particular day, when I arrived, the pink clouds in the sky had already dissipated. Undeterred, I proceeded to descend to the riverbank, only to find a clear night sky and people sitting along the shore engaged in fishing. Since I missed the sunset that day, I made the decision to head out half an hour earlier the following day.

Day 2. Peach-colored sunset (2021.5.30) & Day 3.(2021.6.1)

I needed to encounter a magnificent force of nature to rejuvenate my spirit. Regardless of how tumultuous and troubled my heart might be, nothing can deter the sun from setting or the river from flowing eastward, constantly evolving amidst it all. When I'm in the presence of nature, my heart harmonizes with it, becoming profoundly tranquil and empowered.

Day 4. The golden sunset and the glistening river after the rain are a breathtaking sight. Unlike the ebb and flow of ocean waves, this water wave adheres to natural laws and follows its distinct pattern.

Day 5. The sun was obscured by thick, dark clouds, rendering everything invisible. The river flowed eastward in an unusual and rapid manner, its surface so eerily flat that it resembled an immense canvas of blended colors, encompassing all shades of blue within a square meter of water. The ambiance around me was unsettling, and before I could complete taking pictures, thunder resounded, causing me to feel a surge of fear so intense that I nearly tumbled and scrambled up the riverbank. (2021.6.4)

Day 6. On the last day, with the intention of capturing the sunset, I drove around the river for half an hour but couldn't spot the sun anywhere. I had almost given up and was preparing to head back. However, as fate would have it, when I had only walked a dozen meters before turning around, I was greeted by a breathtaking sight: half of the sky had transformed into a vibrant red hue. It was as if time had momentarily frozen; the sun seemed to have paused in its descent, allowing the fiery red sunset to gradually envelop the surroundings. This remarkable spectacle continued for over ten minutes. (2021.6.5)

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skzsauce01 · 3 years

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Hymn to Myself

Anniversary Request Special

Synopsis: The Goddess of Spring tells a mortal the story of her abduction by the King of the Underworld. Follows the Homeric Hymn to Demeter.

Warning: kidnapping

Word Count: 2.6k

Pairing: fem Persephone!reader x Hades!Hyunjin

Dear mortal, listen closely, for I have deemed you worthy to hear my tale. You have danced in my name, burned offerings to me. You shall be rewarded for your worship. Lend me your ear now, and perhaps I will lend a hand in the future.

You know me by many names — The Maiden, The Younger, the Goddess of Spring — but today I will be the Queen of the Dead. There is no need to be so frightened. Your time has not come yet, nor will I be the one to ferry you to the Underworld, as you well know. Trembling and bowing your head for mercy will serve you no purpose but do as you like.

You have heard the tale, I am sure. The Dark-Haired One seizes a maiden and makes her his bride, as her mother, holy Night-Mare of the golden double-axe, ceases the earth’s harvest in her despair. The story you may have heard prior is my mother’s version, without the details of me in the Underworld.

Like most stories, it begins with the Cloud Collector, my father. Seeing that the King of the Underworld had no queen and that no goddess or nymph desired him, he offered him a bride, the flowerfaced daughter of the Corn-Mother. The King of the Dead accepted.

As you may have guessed, I did not know about this arrangement. The nymphs I surrounded myself with then, daughters of the Titan God of Rivers, did not either, yet they braided my hair and wove flowers in. Roses, crocuses, and hyacinths entangled with violets and irises to make a crown of spring. I still remember the way they fussed over me, singing songs and pulling at my scalp. I hated it. I only wanted to pick my blossoms. Once they had finished, I walked through the meadow, leaving them behind, gathering as many of the flowers I could into my arms.

Then I spotted a narcissus, its center as radiant as the sun and its petals the color of fresh milk. Its honey-sweet fragrance filled the sky and enchanted me. I approached it with both hands, ready to hold the bud to my nose, when the earth beneath me broke open.

A golden chariot drawn by sable-black horses leapt out, and I was snatched by the gloomy Lord. I cried out for my father, he of the thunderbolt, but he was the one who promised me, and I did not know that then. The King of the Dead had me in his grasp. He refused to let go. But still I cried a piercing scream, begging the pantheon of gods seated at Olympus to help, pleading Lord Helios in his own golden chariot to come down and save me. No one heard a thing when the chariot descended back into the earth.

And when we finally entered the Underworld, my voice had gone hoarse, my body limp. The flowers I clutched to my chest were the only remnants of the sunlit earth I had, but their petals had scattered into the wind and their stems wilted in the dark. The Dark-Haired One kept his arm on me, making sure I would not be able to flee. The shades wandered in the fields below us, their moans a constant hum.

Soon we stopped in front of his palace, a cold and imposing labyrinth with a locked gate reaching to the sky. A three-headed dog stood guard, saliva dripping from its maw. The King stepped off first and offered his hand to me, but I remained frozen on the chariot. It was still warm from the sun, and I wanted to soak in every last piece I could. The hound growled and lowered its center head to sniff me when I latched onto the side, even as the Lord of the house tried to drag me off.

“Leave me be,” I cried, pushing at his chest. “My father will punish you for this. He is the king of the heavens, and you will be struck with his bolt.”

“At the behest of the Thunderer, you are now my wife. Come, my queen, into your new home.”

I had no tears left, and I mutely followed him, keeping my eyes on the back of his wine-dark cloak. He led me through the gates, the corridors of his palace, all the way to the throne room. Two chairs stood next to each other, both as black as the horses and the sky. His was obsidian, etched with bone-white carvings and lined with onyx gems. The other, the ebony one intertwined with asphodel and pomegranates, belonged to me now.

“Are you pleased?” he asked.

I said nothing, for the fight in me had died along with the flowers I left between the paws of the hound.

“Are you frightened?”

Again, no sound left me. He made me sit on my throne, and I did with my head hung low. He cradled my face, and I shut my eyes. If he desired a kiss, then he could take it. I was a wife now, to the king of the Underworld too, and I would let my husband put his mouth on mine.

“Tired,” he declared after some time. “I will bring you ambrosia and nectar, so that you may recover.”

He brought the divine foods to me, but I did not eat. He tried to make conversation, but I did not speak. The scent of the asphodels and pomegranates were suffocating, and the musk of death coated the air untainted by natural fragrance. The thick slabs of wood underneath me were unyielding, and so was I. The Dark-Haired One was dismayed.

“What is it that you require?”

“I require that I be returned to my mother and to the earth.”

He smiled. “I have all of the riches of the earth. See what I have made for you.”

Humans called him the Wealthy One on occasion, and I understood that it was not merely a euphemism when he presented my crown to me: a golden-leaved garland with apple-red rubies the size of hen’s eggs and emeralds as vivid as moss, not a hint of death clouding its elegance. It was magnificent and befitting for a queen of spring. He undid the nymphs’ braids that still remained in my hair and placed the crown on my head.

“Are you happy now?” he asked.

“I will never be happy until I see the sun again.”

He frowned and left me alone on my throne, hoping I would change my mind. The ambrosia and nectar laid on the moonlight-silver tray. They glistened and glowed, their dangerously sweet scent enveloping the room, doing their best to entice me. Instead, I sat as rigid as a tree for days, languishing in my misery. Color faded from my features, and I looked like the very image of the Queen of the Dead, with my soulless eyes and ashen skin.

Day and night, I remained there. The Lord of the House was patient, as his realm was eternal and as I was immortal. He brought gifts to try to sway me: diamond birds perching on bronze branches, amethyst crocus bouquets with delicate sprigs of roses the colors of ripe peaches. I left them on the ground. They reminded me too much of what I no longer had. The treasures around me grew, but he persisted with his prizes and his attempts at conversation.

“There are many souls arriving today,” he would say. “How lovely,” I would reply.

“What do you think of the sky here?” he would ask, and I would tell him, “It is like you.”

“Would you like to see Cereberus again? I think he liked you,” to which I would answer, “I am content here.”

It was his offer to visit the Asphodel Meadows that drew me out of my fog.

We took his chariot, golden and gleaming as before. This time, he held out a hand for me, and I accepted. The three-headed dog at the entrance of the palace whined when I did not pat his heads like his master. The flowers I left as a peace offering earlier were gone, not even a broken stem lingering. I could only imagine that they were played with and eaten.

“He does like you,” the King whispered. He placed one arm around my shoulders as he held the reins with the other. I shrunk as much as I could, burying my nose in my hair so not to smell the death radiating off of him.

“Yes, I suppose he does.”

We stopped in one of the many fields, the asphodel ghostly white and fluttering in the breeze. The shades kept their distance when I stepped off the chariot and into the flowers. My bare feet touched the Underworld dirt, my ankles brushed the stalks as I roamed the meadow like I did that fateful day, plucking the prettiest blooms from their roots. The Dark-Haired One followed closely behind, and I did my best to keep my eyes on the iron sky as I wandered through more of the fields. Lone petals circled in the wind, adorning the false flowers of my crown with themselves. I thought about the nymphs — their songs, their chatter, their life — and nearly wept. Then I thought about my poor mother, with the beautiful garlands in her hair, finding no trace of me among the meadow, and I dropped to the ground.

“There is no need to cry,” said the Dark-Haired One softly. “The shades will not hurt you.”

“I want to go home,” I replied in-between my gasps. I thought that picking flowers would somehow soothe me, but they only pained my heart. “Please, let me return home.”

He held me up, and I saw up close the famed black locks that framed his face. “Home,” he smiled.

My spirits soared, and I clamored onto his chariot, eager to see the wispy clouds and splendid sun again. But I had deceived myself. For the Queen of the Underworld, the palace was home.

The throne was too far for my limp body to retire to, so he set me down upon a funeral couch. There, I laid and stared out the window at the vast number of souls inhabiting the fields. He brought me ambrosia and nectar once more, a feeble attempt that even he knew was wasted.

He ordered entertainers to sing and dance for me, but I stared at them like one of the many skulls carved on his throne.

However, my prayers were soon answered months later. The mighty Messenger of the Gods, with his golden wand, came and relayed my father’s message: I was to be returned to my mother, for she was wrathful against the gods. The Lord smiled and did not disobey the Thunderer’s orders.

“Go to your mother,” he said to me, “for I am not an unseemly husband. But you are my queen, and all those who do not perform your rituals with reverence, all those who do not perfectly burn offerings for you, will be punished.”

I did not care about those things. Still, I rejoiced and leapt from the couch with liveliness, my crown falling to the ground in my eagerness. To feel the warmth of the sun on my skin, to see the vibrant earth, to be with my mother — those were what mattered to me.

“Before you leave, I ask that you try the Underworld’s fruit,” he said, holding out a pomegranate. “As a blessing to us from the Queen of the Dead.”

“You have been nothing but kind to me, so I will,” I told him. I ate four of the seeds, red as the rubies on my Underworld crown and sweet as honey, before I could tolerate my impatience no longer.

The King’s chariot was already drawn with his sable-black horses. The dog eyed me curiously as I got onto the chariot with the Immortal Guide rather than his master. The messenger took the reins, and we ascended to the upper world. The taste of the pomegranate still coated my tongue when the earth cracked open.

We burst forth like a new sprout. The nymphs came out from the sea and flocked around, fussing like they did before. This time, I did not mind. I let them pull at my clothing and let them weave fragrant flowers in my hair.

My mother, with a dark robe, soon arrived. She saw me, stretched her arms out, and I ran into them, breathing in her familiar scent. She stroked my hair, all while murmuring in my ear about how I was safe now, how happy she was. I was happy too. I recounted my tale to her in a frenzy, words crashing into one another like the churning tides. We stayed together, roaming the fields, soaking in the sun and earth I had missed. I danced in the streams, playing with my nymphs in celebration, for I was home.

It was later that I learned that I was bound to the Underworld, having eaten the pomegranate seeds. I left with a heavy heart and arrived to the expectant Lord, smiling with his brows.

“You tricked me,” I said. I would not weep; I could endure my time here.

“It was a request you accepted,” he said as he strode to me with my crown. He adorned me with it, and I let him brush the loose tendrils from my face. “Welcome home, my queen.”

In the beginning, it was a partial home.

I left the palace as often as I could to roam among the asphodels and the shades. The shades grew acquainted with my presence and bowed to me, moaning cries of worship in that strange tongue of theirs. I learned to feed the horses with sweet pomegranate seeds to entice them into being obedient, and the golden chariot of the King became one of my possessions. I stayed away from him, for I still felt betrayed.

Despite my frigidness, he adored me like no other. The entertainers seemed to be a constant at his court now that I present. He offered to dance with me, to which I rejected every time. He played knucklebones with me on the rare occasion I was receptive. I suspected he let me win on several occasions in an attempt to open me up like a blooming flower. And whenever I returned from a walk through the fields, he would have a lavish bouquet of false flowers waiting on my throne.

However, over time I grew to recognize my stature. After all, not many goddesses could say that they had power like mine. I began to wear my royal title like a mantle, draping it around my shoulders and letting it trail behind me in my wake. I was not always merciful, as you may well know yourself, mortal, but it is nigh impossible to say that I was not fair. The Lord took this fervor of mine as a sign that I had forgiven him. I still do not know if I have.

I sit beside him, as his equal, commanding the dead just like he does. I let him kiss my cheek and sometimes return the favor if I am feeling kind that day. I dance with him, resting my head over his heart and breathing in his musk.

But he is the one who made me his bride and thrust the Underworld upon me.

It is difficult to say that I resent him. It is much easier to say that I cannot, and will never be able to, love him in the same way he loves me.

Thus, for four months of the year, I live as the Queen of the Dead, never as his wife.

Now, dear mortal, you have heard it all. Tell it to the world.

~ ad.gray

Extra: Sorry for the unholy amount of name euphemisms and epithets. The TL;DR is that I didn’t want the associations of the Greek gods’ relationships, and by extension their names, in this story because they’re a mess by modern standards, so I opted for euphemisms and epithets instead. I decided to not use names at all because consistency, I guess? This kind of works though since “Persephone” is telling the story to a mortal and mortals avoided saying certain god’s names, Persephone and Hades among them, out of fear or respect (source). Saying a god’s name gets their attention, and getting the god’s of death attention was considered unlucky (source). This story’s version of Persephone is pretty understanding, I guess. Also, I tried to mimic the style of the Homeric Hymn to Demeter (this was the translation I used), and the amount of descriptors is insane. Thanks for coming to my TedTalk.

Hope you enjoyed this! <3

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quazartranslates · 3 years

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Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH62

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

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Chapter 62: The Queen’s Inheritance (I)

"Here, this is the ancient lake." A guide brought the two men to a huge underground lake and said, "The buildings near here were built during the first generation of Dragon Ant Queens, and by now most of them have become damaged and collapsed. It’s said that most of them were in the architectural styles of the demon world. Later, with the entry of human beings, some later Dragon Ant Queens were of human origins, and the style gradually moved closer to that of the human world."

Qi Leren and Ning Zhou stood in front of the ruins of ancient buildings, watching the vast underground lake ahead. The rich water vapor formed a dense fog that hovered over the underground lake. With a burst of wind coming from underground caves, the fog was blown away only to reform.

The wonderful thing was that there were a lot of fluorescent plankton floating in the lake, which were a deep fluorescent blue amidst the smokey fog. This huge underground lake was like a night sky with thin clouds, with bright stars in its vast expanse.

"The scenery here is good, yet it seems that there aren’t many people?" Qi Leren asked.

The guide mused: "In the early years, there were still people living here, but I don't know when it started: there were frequent violent conflicts here, and the chaos was even worse than that in the lower city. With the water monster incident, the residents who were here moved."

"Water monster?" Qi Leren looked back at the fluorescent underground lake again. "Is there a water monster in it?"

"Yes, there was a monster attack on the nearby residents, which caused thousands of deaths. It alarmed the Dragon Ant Queen, and she then ordered for all of them to be relocated," the guide said.

Qi Leren whispered to Ning Zhou, "What does a water monster look like?"

Ning Zhou thought about it: "A strange shape."

This is equal to saying nothing. Qi Leren blinked in confusion. On second thought, the monster was also a kind of monster. Of course, there were all kinds of monsters, some of which were serious and some of which were casual.

"Is this monster a devil? Or a demon?" Qi Leren asked again.

Although devils and demons had similar names, there were obvious differences. There were many races with rational minds and human features among devils, but no matter how powerful demons were, their bodies were obviously non-human, and they had no rational and normal cognitive ability.

The guide shook his head and said, "We don't know. The monster appeared once and then disappeared. Maybe the Dragon Ant Queen took the shot to clean it up."

"Then there would be no need to move," Ning Zhou hit the nail on the head.

"That’s also true." The guide smiled bitterly. "We aren’t qualified to know the inside story of this confidential matter."

"Where did Mrs Kathleen say she saw the person she thought was Ashley?" Qi Leren asked.

"In the area over here, please come with me." The guide pointed to a palace-style building complex that had been submerged by the lake, and walked there with the two people.

There was almost no light source from the sun in the Underground Ant City, but the creatures here naturally developed methods to see. Both humans and demons would eat foods that enhanced night vision. In addition, there were fluorescent fungi and vegetation everywhere, and the demand for light here had dropped dramatically over time. If you suddenly returned to the surface, it would be difficult to adapt because of the strong light.

After Qi Leren broke his shell, his eyesight had improved a lot. Along with eating the food suggested by Celia, walking in the dim underground world didn't hinder him now, but occasionally he would stumble on the uneven ground because of carelessness. After all, there wasn’t very good infrastructure in the Nightmare World, and few places had flat cement or asphalt roads except the Twilight Township.

Ning Zhou walked half a step slower than him, which proved to be very important, because when Qi Leren stumbled, he reacted very quickly to catch him with one hand.

He wouldn't say "I'll carry you", but in fact he did.

When the guide looked back and was about to speak, his open mouth got stuck in his face when he saw the hands being held between the two men, and his voice became a cough.

Ning Zhou deadpanned, as if two men walking hand in hand was a matter of course. Qi Leren pretended to look at the scenery: "The scenery here is really good. It would be nice to walk around nearby when we have time."

Ning Zhou also responded to him: "Hmm."

The guide doesn't quite understand what was worth going on a date for in a place where there were water monsters and people often went missing and were killed... He would want to leave, but he strongly wore an awkward but polite smile: "Yes, but pay attention to safety."

Qi Leren had discovered that Ning Zhou was very shy in some aspects, but very "calm" in other aspects. For example, if he thought that two people who were engaged could hold hands, he wouldn’t care about the situation or feel embarrassed to be seen.

But by the same token, he decided that what he couldn't do before getting married was impossible without getting married.

Qi Leren, like an infatuated teenager, was stirring under the influence of hormones. At the same time, he felt that he was a dirty adult compared to the pure Ning Zhou. He had just fallen in love and he had already begun to think about their sex life.

At this moment, Qi Leren was very optimistic and confident that he should be able to push Ning Zhou down. After all, Ning Zhou was so pure, how could he be the more dominant one? But he couldn't be in such a hurry. It wasn’t good to intimidate Ning Zhou. He should start teaching at the primary level. For example, he should find a chance to teach him how to kiss at the right time, in the right place, and with the right atmosphere.

A little excited inside, a little expectant, and a little shy, Qi Leren couldn't help but show an excessively happy smile.

Guide: I don't know why, but I feel like an eyesore, so I should hurry away…

After taking them to their destination, the guide left for his other tasks, leaving only Qi Leren and Ning Zhou walking slowly in the ruins of this palace.

The surrounding buildings had indeed been seriously damaged, but they can vaguely see the distinctive style. For example, there were only a few rows of scattered columns left in this building that were similar to a Greek temple. The height of the complete columns was more than 40 meters, which was already magnificent from a distance. When you looked closer, it would take seven or eight people to hug each column. Standing under the column and looking up, this amazing height was awe-inspiring. Because the foundation had fallen and the lake’s water had risen, the temple had become tilted altogether. The north half had been submerged in the lake and only showed slightly above the water, while the south part had not been swallowed up by the lake water at all.

"The buildings in the underworld are usually much taller than those in the human world," Ning Zhou said.

"Why?" Qi Leren asked.

Ning Zhou looked at the rows of neat but damaged columns in front and said slowly, "Because many demons don't like to maintain human form."

Qi Leren immediately thought of the huge black dragon in the lake of fire. With its size, it could only move in such a huge building. He didn't know if the dragon-shaped devils had some special hobbies, such as collecting gold coins and treasures…

"There are traces of fighting here." Ning Zhou's voice awakened Qi Leren who was still sleepwalking.

Qi Leren quickly recovered and observed it carefully. The damage caused by natural collapse was different from that caused by fighting. Qi Leren was inexperienced, but Ning Zhou could see it at a glance and even recover some details of the battle in his mind. For example, the column in front of him was broken by fighting, and the blood at his foot was left by severe scratches when the person was hit and flew to the ground.

"They were two masters, at least one was injured," Ning Zhou said.

"In my impression, although Mrs Kathleen's subordinate had the seed of slaughter, his strength was average," Qi Leren recalled.

"Someone’s here!" Ning Zhou pulled Qi Leren behind the column.

Both of them were silent, regulating their breathing and heartbeats.

In the distance, there came a group of people's slight footsteps, the sound of cloth dragging on the ground, and even light.

A mysterious group passed through the hall, carrying bone lamps in their hands, and wearing heavy long cloaks with hoods covering their faces. This group of people, with their heads down, recited words like spells in a low voice, and when he listened attentively, he could tell they were hypnotized.

Qi Leren gave himself a quick pinch, and Ning Zhou looked at him with concern. Qi Leren pointed to his lips and pointed to the mysterious cloaked figures, beckoning to be careful of their spells. Seeing that Ning Zhou wasn’t affected, Qi Leren was a little reassured.

The front row of the group consisted of cloaks carrying bone lamps, but the rear was a group of ragged human beings. Their eyes were closed, and everyone's face showed a look of intoxication and a trance-like state, with strange smiles. Like a group of docile sheep, they walked forward under the guidance of the cloaks.

Qi Leren felt bad at once. What were these cloaked people doing?

Ning Zhou suddenly felt something, and his eyes stared straight at one of the people moving forward. The man looked as unarmed and smiling as the people around him, but when Ning Zhou looked at him, he also turned his head, grinned at him with great interest, and then continued walking before the cloaked people found out.

There was no road ahead, and the northern part of this temple had been submerged in the underground lake. If they went further, there would be only the lake water filled with fluorescent algae. However, as if they could not see the road, these people walked towards the lake with their bone lamps and vague spells.

As they approached, the fluorescence on the lake became more and more bright. At once, the stars converged into a dazzling blue, which made people’s eyesight white out!

A wonderful voice sounded in the light, and it was difficult to describe whether it was a song or a spell. It was like a devout prayer of the devout and a desperate cry of the dying, which made Qi Leren shiver all over. In the void, there seemed to be a huge eyeball watching everyone in this land, including the two people hiding behind the column.

Qi Leren's eyes widened, his heart thumped, and his whole body seemed to be petrified under the spell.

Under this strange sound, this group of mysterious cloaked people walked into the blue light, and were quickly swallowed by the light.

The blue light gradually went out, and the fluorescent plants on the lake faded again, but the cloaked and human figures could no longer be seen in the temple. Everything was silent, absurd, and terrifying.

"What was that...?" Qi Leren woke up from the fear of being shocked just now and leaned in Ning Zhou’s direction.

"A cult sacrifice." Ning Zhou was more experienced than he was, so it wasn’t difficult to see what this group of people were going to do. He was more concerned about the person who had smiled at him from the crowd just now. That person had obviously noticed the two people hiding behind the column, but didn’t expose their existence. And he himself, for whatever reason, seemed to be playing the role of cult sacrifice.

"Where did they go?" Qi Leren asked again.

"They should have entered a fixed half-field. You remember that the members of the Slaughter Secret Society entered a half-field enchantment like this for secret ceremonies," Ning Zhou said.

Qi Leren suddenly realized that a similar situation had happened with the Slaughter Secret Society before, but this group of people were even more bizarre. He didn't know what they were.

"Which devil are these people going to sacrifice to?" Qi Leren asked.

"Not sure." Ning Zhou shook his head.

There were too many devils, and this was the Underground Ant City. Besides the worship of the Devil Kings, the worship of lower devils was also endless, and the situation was more complicated than any other place. However, the spells recited by this group of people were a little familiar, like a group of Utopia worshippers that Ning Zhou had once handled. That is, worshippers of the Lord of Power.

"Let’s hurry up and go back to Celia to see if there’s any way to get in. If we delay too long, this group of people will be in danger," Ning Zhou said.

-----

Editor’s Notes:

Ning Zhou: [taking his job very seriously]

Qi Leren: “Ning Zhou’s a bottom, right? He’s totally a bottom.”

Guide: “Please let me leave before you test your theory.”

-----

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

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thescentoflavender · 4 years

Text

MLQC CN: Chapter 37, Xu Mo’s Route (Part 5 of 5)

“Parting also has its own meaning, does it not?”

Complete at long last!

I think MC cries the most in this route—perfect for angst lovers like me. (Cue recommended song at the bottom of this post.)

Read the other parts here:

Summary of Chapters 1-36

Summary of Chapter 37, Parts 1-4

Chapter 37, Xu Mo’s Route (Part 1 of 5)

Chapter 37, Xu Mo’s Route (Part 2 of 5)

Chapter 37, Xu Mo’s Route (Part 3 of 5)

Chapter 37, Xu Mo’s Route (Part 4 of 5)

Dedicated to @superlemniscate.

---

~Please don’t repost this translation in any way.~

Down the stairs I kept on running. In the vastness of the night, the path beneath my feet was the only thing that was real.

As if I knew someone was waiting for me at my destination, every step I took felt certain, safe.

Before me, the white dots of light sparkled and grew. Gradually, everything I could see was swamped by blinding light.

Finally, I stopped.

Rubbing my eyes groggily, I realised that the final day had arrived at last, without any fanfare.

Today, I planned to visit an old rendezvous spot with Xu Mo.

By the time I had finished all my work, evening had arrived. When I had finally managed to rush down to the entrance of the park, Xu Mo was already waiting for me there.

[MC]: Sorry, I’m sorry that I’m late by two minutes! This park is too big…

Xu Mo: It is of no consequence. Just remember to make this time up to me.

Saying this, Xu Mo took my hand, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and began walking.

[MC]: Uh, are we going to walk over?

Xu Mo: At the pace at which we’re walking, I fear we’ll miss the comets tonight.

Xu Mo: We’ll be taking the bus.

[MC]: How can the bus be in operation today…

Xu Mo: A miracle might happen for all we know.

Xu Mo smiled. In the dim light, his profile was nothing but gentle.

Tilting my head to one side, I studied him, reluctant to shift my gaze.

Suddenly, I wished that the road we were walking on would never end. That way, we could keep on walking. Even if we had to remain in this moment forever, it didn’t seem too bad either.

Before we could reach the bus stop, the street behind us was suddenly bathed in light. A bus was actually approaching us slowly.

[MC]: !

Xu Mo: It seems that it is indeed a special day today.

The entire bus was empty, save for the driver and the two of us passengers.

Originally, this bus service was only supposed to run in the city. However, for some reason, the driver had driven into the countryside today, and even agreed to send us to our destination.

[MC]: Thank you, Captain! We were about to walk there ourselves.

Driver: Haha, I should be the one thanking you instead. I can’t believe that I managed to get passengers today, and better still, a pair of romantic youngsters.

[MC]: But will we delay your own plans?

The driver appeared stunned for a split second. Then he laughed.

Driver: I’ve driven this bus for more than half my life. To be able to send the two of you to your destination safely during this last journey… I have no more regrets.

For a moment, none of us spoke. After a while, I spoke in a hushed tone.

[MC]: Thank you.

The bus continued onward at an even speed. As if the entire world was immersed in this endless night, every minor detail seemed impossibly precious.

In about half an hour’s time, the bus slowed to a stop. After bidding goodbye to the driver, Xu Mo and I began walking towards that magnificent sandalwood tree.

Its limbs extended and laden with leaves, the tree stood there, a towering presence. Even now, even when everything around it had fallen into deep slumber, it whispered of life and hope.

[MC]: This is the first time I’ve felt that a night can be so long.

[MC]: It reminds me of something I heard a long time back: In the darkness of the night, we often pass by others’ lives.

[MC]: But thankfully, I didn’t pass by yours.

Craning my neck, I turned back to look at Xu Mo. Then I raised my hand, joined with his, and gave it a wave.

Above, the stars dotted the inky blue expanse of sky in a dazzling display, their light spilling down softly on the curve of Xu Mo’s lips.

Surreptitiously, I rose on tiptoe and grazed over that curve—that curve which was bent to just the right degree.

In the night breeze, the leaves of the sandalwood tree rustled noisily, much like every moment which had ever passed between us.

[MC]: Xu Mo, I think I should be leaving soon.

[MC]: Actually, you’ve long since known what I’ll be setting off to do, haven’t you?

Xu Mo didn’t speak, merely raising a hand and ruffling my hair.

Xu Mo: Are you afraid?

Subconsciously, I nodded. Then I hurriedly shook my head.

[MC]: I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know if you’ll be there.

[MC]: I don’t know if we’ll ever get to do all those things we promised to do again.

[MC]: And I don’t know… if I’ll forget you.

[MC]: Because there are too many things I don’t know. Because of the unknown, I’m afraid.

[MC]: ...I know that I sound really silly right now. But no matter what, I won’t retreat in fear again.

[MC]: So, Xu Mo, I hope you’ll believe that I can do it.

Xu Mo: Silly girl.

Gazing at me, emotion roiled in Xu Mo’s eyes.

Xu Mo: I’ve always believed in you. Because you’re far more powerful than what I imagined.

Xu Mo: You were the one who gave me the opportunity to experience so many “firsts”.

Xu Mo: You were also the one who made me feel something—indescribable.

Xu Mo: Do you remember what I said earlier? Between the two of us, it is I who need you more.

Xu Mo: So, you can do it. Because I have already taken this for granted.

[MC]: ...So you’ve never forgotten all the memories of us?

Xu Mo: I can recall some fragments, yes. They’re not unlike a dream.

Xu Mo: But everything I’ve experienced with you, every word I’ve ever spoken to you—these memories cannot be more real.

Xu Mo: Say, isn’t it incredible?

Xu Mo’s speech reminded me of all that had occurred in that space. I had assumed that I would be the sole bearer of those memories.

Carrying those faraway memories with them, the ashes filling the sky drifted back to us. Then they landed softly on the ground, forming a path which disappeared into the distance.

I knew then: I already had the best weapon for resisting the unknown.

Xu Mo: [MC]. The purpose of our memory isn’t to store information, but to see the future through our past.

Xu Mo: At its heart, it is unreal, malleable to our likings and whims. Ergo, I do not need you to remember me, or everything about us, in such a way.

Xu Mo: I hope the person you grow into is one changed only by me.

Xu Mo: And that you use that self to reunite with the future us.

As he said this, Xu Mo cupped my cheek, brushing it with the pad of his thumb, before bending down. A familiar warmth landed first on the top of my forehead, then my eyes, and then the tip of my nose…

For a moment, his body stilled. Both his hands trembled slightly.

Opening my eyes, I caught the sorrow that flashed in those dark eyes gazing at me.

Xu Mo: [MC], it is time.

Following his gaze, I saw feathers float past my cheek. Slowly, the hair at my scalp was transforming into translucent white feathers.

As some invisible force seemed to tug me backwards, I frantically grabbed onto Xu Mo.

Xu Mo: Don’t cry.

[MC]: I don’t want to cry either… I’m not scared either, truly, I’m not. I only…

Miss you too much.

Biting on my lip, I lowered my head. But the tears continued to fall, unheeding of restraint.

Xu Mo: I understand.

Xu Mo: But humans are fragile. This is perfectly normal.

Xu Mo: You can be afraid, you can be reluctant to part. You can cry before me.

Xu Mo: Because I hope that when you’re before me, you’ll always be your truest self.

Xu Mo: It’s only that… I am very greedy.

Xu Mo: I have no desire for others to see your tears, to see that fragile side to you.

Xu Mo paused. Through the haze of my tears, I could just about make out his eyes, rimmed with red.

Xu Mo: Parting also has its own meaning, does it not?

Xu Mo: It is because of these bad times that our reunion in the future will be full of pleasant surprises.

Xu Mo: So don’t cry anymore. Promise me that.

[MC]: Okay. I’ll promise you anything.

Nodding forcefully, I desperately tried to swipe the tears off my cheeks. Through all of this, I refused to let go of Xu Mo’s hand.

Until a white glow started to appear around my fingertips, and my vision began to blur.

I knew there wasn’t much time left.

[MC]: Xu Mo, will you be waiting for me there?

Xu Mo remained silent, emotion churning in his narrow eyes.

Xu Mo: I should like you to find out the answer to this question yourself.

Xu Mo: When we meet again.

Xu Mo: Don’t forget, you are still my Special Assistant.

[MC]: Isn’t the month up today?

Xu Mo: No, it isn’t time yet.

Xu Mo: It is now 5.01 in the afternoon. From the very moment that you promised to become my Special Assistant, you still owe me three whole minutes.

Xu Mo: Including the two minutes for which you were late, you now owe me five minutes in total.

Xu Mo: Compensating me will not be as simple as returning only five minutes to me. We will need to re-evaluate the situation when we meet again.

Xu Mo: So, [MC], do you want to do the counting for yourself?

[MC]: Xu Mo, you…

Xu Mo: It seems now that there is no other way but to return me this time.

[MC]: I will. Promise me that you won’t lie to me again.

Xu Mo: I will not renege on my promise.

Xu Mo: [MC]...

Xu Mo: I won’t miss you very much. Because I believe that you can—will—continue on your journey step by step, drawing upon your own strength.

Xu Mo: All of my efforts are for the very moment when we meet again.

I heard him call my name softly, but the next second, I could hear nothing else.

Xu Mo’s last sentence was drowned in the dazzling light. As the girl vanished with the wind, so did his words.

Silently, he stood rooted to the spot.

Perhaps it was his anticipation for the future that broke his regret for the past. Xu Mo let out a light chuckle.

When he looked up again, his expression had become as unreadable and distant as ever.

In the dark, under the sandalwood tree, the man turned and started walking in the reverse direction of the drifting feathers.

-END OF XU MO’S ROUTE-

Recommended song:

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youtube

#mr love: queen's choice #love and producer #mlqc #mlqc cn #恋与制作人 #chapter 37 #xu mo's route #xu mo #lucien #thescentoflavender translations

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writingish1210 · 3 years

Text

Behind the Scenes

Ao3 Link: (x)

Fanfiction.net Link: (x)

One might assume, at first glance, that Hiccup was his master. They would, of course, be wrong.

An outsider to Berk might have gawked at the dragons filling the village. They might have wondered about the change in its people. How exactly did a tribe dedicated to hunting down and slaughtering the monsters suddenly turn on its heel, and cozy up to them instead?

Was it witchcraft? Or had the mighty warriors of Berk tamed the ferocious beasts that had plagued them? Were they now masters to the winged lizards that occupied their village?

It could be so. The most prominent example of a relationship between a dragon and its master would be that of the chief’s son, and his beast—a Night Fury, of all dragons! What was it that he called him? Something about his physical characteristics, for sure. Ah, yes, Toothless! Toothless, the Night Fury. A rather harmless name for such a formidable creature.

The boy, Hiccup, was nothing much to look at. He certainly lived up to his name. A skinny, gangly adolescent, with a contraption made of wood and metal in place of his left foot.

There were many rumors flying around the isles about what had happened for him to lose it. Some said it was lost in the sonic blast of the Night Fury before it was subdued into submission. Others muttered under their breaths that it had been burned off by a Monstrous Nightmare, which had then been slain by Stoick the Vast in a fit of murderous rage. Of course, these were only rumors that very few believed.

An outsider might have found it odd to believe that a mere stick of a lad had subdued a mighty beast like a Night Fury. But they would have to face the facts, of course. After all, it was evident that the beast obeyed the boy’s every beck and call.

They took to the air, swooping across the landscape, diving and rolling through the clouds, performing stunts no Viking could have dreamed of. They moved in a synchronized fashion, as if they were of one soul, dancing through the skies.

Whenever the boy called, the dragon would answer. Yes, they muttered, the chief’s son truly had his dragon under control.

To their credit, with what they saw, this would be a logical conclusion. They were, regrettably, unaware of what happened behind the scenes.

* * *

Vikings, Toothless had discovered, jumped to conclusions rather quickly. They’d been doing it for years. After all, for seven generations, the people of Berk had been at war with the dragons over a misunderstanding.

Really, they should have just done their research. Centuries of strife could have been avoided that way. Of course, Toothless would never voice his opinions on such matters, mostly because he could not talk, which was truly a shame. He’d always had a lot to say.

Nevertheless, he still tried to convey his displeasure whenever a stray Viking happened to make an assumption about Hiccup and himself. He would bare his teeth, or growl in their direction. Hiccup would sometimes mutter under his breath that Toothless was being “huffy”. This was, of course, an exaggeration. Toothless was simply… disgruntled about the prejudices of different Vikings. Yes, that was it.

One of the biggest mistakes a newcomer could make, after all, was to assume that Toothless was tame. He was not. He was a dragon, a beast of the wild, He-Who-Flies-At-Night, the terror in the dark!

He also liked fish, and cuddles, and when Hiccup scratches him in that one special spot, yes that one right there. That didn’t mean anything, other than proving that he was indeed a diverse and complex being. That was all.

* * *

Traders would often stop by the Hooligan tribe, famed for their large population of dragons. Toothless would watch them arrive, docking at the island in their ships. They would often gawk at Toothless and Hiccup, muttering under their breaths about the Night Fury and its master. However, this was not true.

Hiccup was not his master. Hiccup was his friend. Toothless knew this just as he knew that water was wet, and eels were not to be neared. More importantly, Hiccup was his friend. His. Hiccup was his, and he was Hiccup’s. It was as simple as that.

* * *

When Hiccup and his dragon defeated the Red Death, Gothi was not surprised. It had been a long time coming, after all. The boy had a destiny written out for him ever since his birth—it had just taken him a little while to reach it. Reach him, to be precise. Not many could claim that their destiny was a dragon, but Hiccup, as usual, was the exception.

Yes, he had always been destined for greatness. No one ever seemed to notice before the Chief’s son lost his leg, however. No one other than Gothi, of course. Gothi prided herself on knowing certain things. She didn’t make it to village Elder by walking about with her head in the clouds, after all. She knew that the boy had a fate written out for him, though it was debatable whether he would have found it.

Although sometimes, she had thought it had been a fluke. That the glimpse she had seen inside of him was simply a coincidence. But then, on other days, she would realize that though the boy was atypical in terms of physical prowess, he had a core of iron. It would just take a while for it to show through.

That was alright. Gothi may have been old, but she wasn’t going to die just yet. She could wait. So she did, waiting and watching, as the dragons raided, and were driven away, time after time. She had a magnificent vantage point from her hut, where she watched and waited; waited and watched. Until one night, when a Night Fury fell out of the sky. Then, she knew, it was time.

* * *

Toothless and the Boy did not have an auspicious first encounter. Being shot out of the sky doesn’t immediately yield an instant friendship, after all. Upon seeing the boy, his first thoughts had been to hatehatehate and kill the person responsible for his predicament. He was grounded—he couldn’t fly away. He saw the Boy approaching him, a knife glinting in the moonlight, and wondered whether he should have been scared.

In the end, it didn’t matter. The Boy, Hiccup, spared him. He was kind. He gave him food. He gave him a name. He gave him his flight back. Toothless was free, once more, but he found that by the end of his little adventure, he didn’t want to leave.

* * *

Toothless saw the Girl often. The Girl who was once angry, who spat words like dragonfire (like barbs, like spines), who was so suited for the Deadly Nadder she called Stormfly.

Toothless still remembered their first meeting. Her axe had glinted in the sunlight, and the only thought in his mind was to protect the Boy. He would later take her sightseeing, on a lovely tour of the isles. Toothless looked back on that memory with fondness.

He wondered some days whether he should be jealous of the Girl, Astrid, Hiccup’s mate. It was usually a stray thought, and Toothless would swat it away carelessly.

After all, why should he be? Hiccup was his. What they had was special, and no one could replace their bond. Besides, he knew Astrid wasn’t trying to. She had a bond of her own. What she and Hiccup had was so different, yet so similar to the bond Hiccup and Toothless shared. Toothless didn’t mind that one bit.

After all, love didn’t divide when there were more people to love. It simply multiplied.

* * *

Astrid didn’t understand at first, how Hiccup could turn traitor like that. Of course, he was always the odd one out, the black sheep of Berk. Yet, allying himself with dragons? With the monsters that burned the roofs of Berk and slew their people? Astrid couldn’t understand how Hiccup had seen a vicious monster and befriended it, of all things.

That was before Stormfly. Before she met a dragon that was her perfect match. Her partner, so perfectly in tune with her personality and her fighting style. More importantly, she was her friend.

She knew how people looked at the dragon-riding Hooligans. Like they had bewitched the dragons to obey their every order. She almost pitied them, because they would never understand. The dragons and their riders, they were partners, perfectly matched for one another. The dragons were their family, and nothing would tear them apart.

* * *

Hiccup would call Toothless “bud”. It wasn’t a word any other Hooligan used. It was special, reserved especially for him. Even if he didn’t know what it meant, Toothless would understand the sentiment, because what else could it mean but friend?

No, Hiccup was not his master. But, deep inside himself, Toothless knew that whenever Hiccup called, Toothless would always answer. After all, Hiccup would do the same for him.

#httyd #fanfiction #my first fic!!!#putting the writing in writingish1210 #httyd fanfic #toothless #toothless pov #gothi #hiccup #astrid #how to train your dragon #this one's for fries #mmmmm i feel like an instagram model with this many tags #behind the scenes #outsider pov #hiccup horrendous haddock iii #ok that's enough

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zhonglishrine · 4 years

Text

The Sky Is Too Far

Pairing: Reader x Nikolai Gogol x Fyodor Dostoevsky Note: Basically I’m trying to implement reader in Gogol’s love quest so it become triangle mess. Thank you for @fyowyn-writes and my friend Negin for beta/proofread this!

One of these days you might bleed your heart for real. Why? Because loving someone and having it unrequited is something is quite painful to bear. Like a cross that is forever burning inside your chest. But you already know, once you have signed the deal, seeing the subtle hints here and there, you should’ve known better than to hope for something so futile and impossible to grasp in the first place. However, you are still too stupid to believe and too naïve to think that he might spare you a little glance, looking at you back like how he did to him. Full of affection and attention— as an intimate friend, or more than that.

You never know how he truly feels for him, but hearing him talking about him is enough to tell you that.

Getting into a relationship with Gogol is never an easy thing since he wasn’t one to put any label for you and him. But you two were just that… having a dubious and questionable relationship from the start as he let you be the one to guess what you two are. Were you nothing more or less than a companion with benefits to him? Knowing Gogol, he is not one to tie himself with any commitment but that didn’t stop him from luring you with a bit of hope and whisper to you with his sweet words for his mere amusement. He enjoyed seeing your different reactions and all that surprised expression you make.

Behind his snickers and porcelain mask, he always led you to confusion as you kept searching for the answer of his riddles. Endlessly trying to catch up to him like stretching your hand up to the sky hopelessly. You are a flightless bird that cannot fly, and he is the endless mirage that you can’t touch but only can see from your invincible cage.

Just what are you to him?

That was the question that you always want to ask but too afraid to know. It stuck in your throat each time you tried to bring it up. Some things are better once left unknown, as the truth is bitter to swallow. However, you still wish if only you could do something, anything to win his heart, even if you know who has already occupied it.

Although, the said person did not reciprocate his feelings as well. At least, you can tell that as much.

But does Fyodor know about how Gogol truly felt towards him? For you, it was too plain and obvious to see, as he treasured him and had profound respect towards the said anemic man from the way he talked and the way he looked at him. And you doubt he was stupid not to see it as Fyodor is observant and nothing is left unseen to his eyes. Just like an omniscient God, he knows and oversees everything. However, that doesn’t mean that he would care for such petty feelings harbored towards him— every single person is just a pawn for him after all, a mere puppet that danced within the palm of his hand as he tugged on its strings.

That included you, and Gogol wasn’t an exception either.

As no one is special in the eyes of God since he treats everyone equally.

Isn’t that what he hates the most? Isn’t that why he wants to get rid of it by losing sight of himself? However, it was still something quite entertaining to watch. Even he was extra hopeless in front of Fyodor. Restraining himself so that he would not appear too desperate. At times when he was frustrated although he didn’t openly display it, you are whom he came to. Either to talk or just to vent what he repressed. He dislikes not being free, he said so many times, and yet he keeps coming back to the same trap again and again and it binds him the more he was in it. In an endless circle of this never-ending wheel, unable to touch his moy d'yavol as he can only gaze from afar just like how you keep looking at him.

If only he would stop and look back for once, then perhaps you might reach him. But no, you never get that chance and he never bestows you that opportunity. Neither one of them gives that room to sort how they truly feel about. Too prideful and too egotistical to admit the truth, lest their weaknesses be uncovered and they appear vulnerable.

And you can never understand what they are thinking. One is a man chasing down his path of Godhood, simply holding pawns in his hand, disposing them after they are no longer of use. He breaks them with bestiality prior to mercilessly tearing them to shreds, that is his melodramatic games that he likes to play with all the pieces he collected and salvaged. So beautiful Fedyushka, he graciously lifted his fingers on the chessboard without moving any muscles but he controlled all their movement from the shadows like a true ringmaster. Drawing the cards from the deck only for him to toss it aside and burn it in flames once he has figured it out. He set his own rules and he won his own game. That’s just how he is. A devil in disguise that swore to wipe clean the sinner from the face of this earth as if he was truly the God he proclaimed to be.

Another one is a clown, his whole life being a sheer joke and a satire that he parades around proudly with his maniac laugh. Playing his role as the Fool for his King and to entertain his audiences to satiate their greed. Fooling them all by the snap of his fingers just how magicians always did their magic tricks. But Nikolasha is always the sweet arlekin jester one, he knows what his audiences want to see and hear so he pulls them with his charms best with his gleaming grin. Magnificent and splendid he was, yet he never once wins against his Fedyushka in a chess or poker game or anything else. But you on the other hand, always lost to him even before the bet was at stakes. Always three steps behind as he keeps moving forward to chase his important friend that he claimed already too far ahead. And still, neither of you or him achieve what you truly want and are still caught in a stalemate.

Why won’t he look at you, dear Kol’ka? Doesn’t he know that Fedya only manipulated and toyed with him? Fyodor wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice him even though he had claimed how Nikolai was one of his treasured subordinates. He knew how to pull the string of his words to temper with his chaotic mind. Like ivy tendrils wrapped around his heart as he was left at his mercy with every thorn pricking him within every inch. However, he still stayed, it was a poison he intoxicated himself with a perilous risk he was willing to take, yet even so, he is blindfolded by his sentiments, negligent to how they keep on hurting him. Maybe he just enjoys that thrill, the one that you weren’t able to provide him.

Oh, sweet, sweet dear Kolya. He is such a fool, really.

And you are no better either, wanting what you can’t have. It’s both tragic and pathetic, childish even. You know it already, but you can’t help wishing upon a connection solid as concrete. A little validation that there is something between you two. And it is never easy to spit it out after it has taken the root within your soul. Being attached to him when he gives you empty promises is a grave mistake. He has warned you so not to trust any of his clown words, and yet you keep falling for it, ignoring his blatant warning. So, who can you blame but yourself? Even when it hurts you piteously, as you are left unable to utter the words, desperately endeavor to manipulate the surge of sentiments within you, those that are killing you slowly. You do love him dearly, and yet those are things that will hinder him to you. He never wants any personal feelings to be involved.

You two are similar to one another in one more ways than one; as you were simply a grotesque reflection of his depraved desire. Perhaps, that is why he didn’t want to look at you? As you both suffer from this torment but never bother to make it stop. Just how he never spares you a glance neither did Fedyushka do to him. Call this sentiment as one may associated with perversion, what makes it hurt there is the little reminder that left of his sanity and your will that you both are still a mortal being played by God and his destiny. You never had a place in the beginning for him and neither did he for him.

Love truly can make one blind, with one eye or not. However, it is too vast of context. His love for Fyodor can be described as a platonic one, or maybe it was twisted, a sentiment that consumed his whole mind. Fedyushka is the only one he set his eyes on, and all he wants is to prove that he can get rid of him so that he can be as free as a bird.

And it tugged the string of your heart whenever he kept reminding you of that fact. You were never of any importance to him, just how much Fyodor was with the way he treats you and the way he acts around Fyodor. It is too much of a difference with how his molten gold eye would lighten up and how enthusiastic he was whenever his Fedyushka was involved.

There is a little piece of your heart that you resent, the feeling of a tiny bit of jealousy with the unconditional treatment he gives him. You knew that he would do anything for him in a drop of a hat. What is different there to one that devoted themselves to the God that he actually despised? The duality of a man he is. If he cannot be honest with himself, what makes you think he would open up to you anyway?

You were tired, and it is mentally draining, you have scrapped your knees as you have fallen many times to give up chasing him. But whenever you see your darling jester again, despite all the bruises you had and how battered you are, you were still drawn to him. Again, and again, it was an endless chasing game in this labyrinth of a maze with no exit once you are in.

And you wonder… are you truly okay with unrequited love? Was it enough if you can talk with him and hear his voice even when a single word that he speaks was not meant for you?

Dos-kun this, Dos-kun that. Always Dos, Dos, and Dos. Everything is always about Dos.

Keeping your smile in silence, you would listen to his prattle until he is done talking. But that always ached your heart the more you tried to mask your feelings. Really, Kol’ka, would it hurt if he talked about you a little? Sparing a thought about how you feel? Or was it too much to ask from him? Oftentimes you find yourself unable to say anything as you lost your voice in exasperation, holding back your tears from falling. Yet, you are stronger than to succumb to such reasons in lieu of coming across as vulnerable in front of him.

But you still wanted to scream bloody murder to his face, however at the same times you were also too much of a coward to let him know how you feel. Whether he was too stupid or he simply did it on purpose to mess around, you can never tell. You could never read his unpredictable nature, for he is like storms that can bring a hurricane if he desires, and for all you know, he can then be sunny and bright, as though nothing had ever happened at all. It’s frustrating to play this game with him continuously. It hurt you, so painful just to pretend that you were okay.

Or maybe that is just how he is… truly free just like his true nature is. You look up feeling rather defeated with the game you never even once won. Nothing you could do to change him after all, as bitter as it was to admit it. He is just too stubborn for his own good as he keeps pursuing his goal. But in case you ever managed to do so, then he wouldn’t be the Nikolai Gogol that you have known. Despite all of his ignorance, he is still someone that has stolen your heart and you are the one willingly let him to have it. Stretching your hand up, you shield your eyes from the glaring sun. Narrowing your eyes to filter the sunlight, you wait until your vision gets used to it to see better.

The sky is too far indeed, and it is only beautiful just to solely watch and no more. Just like him. Perhaps, this is why you can only gaze at him from where you are, still unable to reach.

Still, hopeless to wish.

#nikolai gogol #nikolai gogol x reader #gogol x reader #nikolai gogol x fyodor dostoevsky #gogol x fyodor #bungou stray dogs #bungoustraydogs #bsd

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mcg777 · 4 years

Text

| Evening Tunes |

Pairing: Clementine x Louis

Word Count: 3170

Summary: After a couple of stressful weeks, Clementine is taken by surprise by Louis' "special" invitation. Together, they find peace underneath the gleam of the moonlight, turning an ordinary night into something so, so much more.

Read on AO3

It was the end of the afternoon. The wind twirled gracefully around the autumn leaves, inviting them to join it in its dance. Orange stained clouds embellished the sky, far apart just enough for golden waves to pierce through the ethereal veil. Distant, a lonely moon carefully revealed herself to the world below, her gentle glow somehow surfacing in the midst of the magnificent ballad of colors and lights. It was a beautiful sight to behold – one that Clementine was very thankful for.

A soft yawn interrupted the gears in her eyes, causing her to briefly look away from the window. For the past few days, she’d been working non-stop, crafting plans, securing the school’s defenses and checking in on her friends’ patrols, all in the hopes of keeping Ericson safe from the many possible threats that hid beyond its walls. Most would think that after losing a leg, one would try to spend their days in the comfort of their bed, away from the stress and chaos of the outside world. Not Clementine, though; if anything, her responsibilities had increased, with her taking up the role of leader after the events with the Delta.

Another stubborn sigh escaped the girl’s lips, but she fought through the exhaustion, refusing to stop admiring the view the heavens had gifted her with. It had been several weeks since her group had spotted any survivors, most of them not even significantly close to the school, yet Clementine stood on her toes. Their last encounter with strangers had been… tense, to say the least. If there’s anything her journey had taught her throughout the years, it’s that one should avoid taking risks at all costs – especially now that she had found a home in the boarding school, and a family in its former students.

A knock on the door made her eyes stray away from the pinkish sky, dissipating her cloud of thoughts.

“Yes?”

Clementine waited patiently for a reply from the other side, but nothing came. She turned her head to the door, expecting whoever it was to simply walk in. Instead, two more knocks echoed throughout the room, causing the girl to sigh in annoyance.

“Alright, I’m coming…”

With her crutches in hand, it didn’t take long until Clementine finally reached the door. Upon opening it, she was greeted with something rather unanticipated.

“Good evening, m’lady.”

Whatever words she’d intended to articulate lost themselves in her throat. There stood Louis, bowing before her with a warm smile spread across his face.

“My sincerest apologies for disturbing you at such a late hour. I truly hope my presence isn’t distracting you from more dire matters.”

It would take a few seconds before Clementine managed to collect herself, ultimately deciding to play along with his theatrical act. Doing her best to replicate his tone, she put on her best whimsical front.

“And to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

“Well, you see,” he said, returning to her eye level, “I’ve travelled all this way to inform you of something very important.”

“Oh, yeah?” she smirked, “And what could that possibly be?”

Louis smiled, clearing his throat after taking an imaginary letter from his pocket and holding it out in front of him.

“Your majesty is hereby invited to tonight’s special piano recital, occurring shortly after dinner in the music room.”

She rolled her eyes at his antics, unable to hold back a laugh.

“I see. May I know who else is coming to this recital?”

The freckled boy paused for a second, dropping his seamless act.

“Actually,” he said, rubbing the back of his head, “it’s just you.”

Clementine’s lips parted slightly.

“Oh.”

It was not at all what she’d foreseen. Based on what he’d been suggesting, she expected it to be one of Ruby’s famous hootenannies, where they’d all gather around in a circle in the music room, evenings spent telling each other stories of the past, laughing and savoring the music playing in the background. She missed those days.

The on-going silence between them pushed Louis to continue.

“It’s just…” he sighed, “it’s been a while since we’ve spent some time together. Just the two of us, I mean.”

He was right. With all the strategical thinking from the past weeks, the girl had barely even had the chance to thoroughly enjoy her time with AJ, let alone Louis. Unfortunately, those were the drawbacks of choosing to shield the ones you love, a path that drove her away from the people she strived to care for in the first place.

The way he pursed his lips and gradually darted his gaze away from her told her that he was considering backtracking on his offer. Without hesitation, Clementine took a step closer, making the boy instinctively place his hand on her arm, just in case she lost her balance. She always appreciated his small gestures.

“Hey,” she whispered, her own hand guiding her toward him, “I’d love that.”

Louis eyed her gently, taking in the tenderness of her smile. They stayed like this for a moment, silent, simply enjoying each other’s presence. A magnetic field trapped them in each other’s gaze, and before he realized it they were already leaning in, forgetting all about their surroundings in favor of the dazzling view standing right in front of them. Just as they were about to close the gap, the sudden sound of steps coming down the hall broke them out of their own world.

They both pulled back, traces of a rosy tint peeking behind their features.

“Right… so,” he said, hands reaching for the comfort of his coat, “it’s a date, then.”

Joy tugged at the corners of Clementine’s lips. She liked the sound of that.

“It’s a date.”

They shared one last smile before they parted ways, a soft chuckle leaving her as she watched him bow down to her yet again, only to be out of sight in a matter of seconds.

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It was the beginning of the night. The chill in the air enveloped the school, breathing life into the still trees. The once warm tones of the sky were now mere shadows of the past, a dark blue tint brushing across the starry canvas as the moon smiled upon the Earth, casting light in the dark void below.

The halls of the admin building emulated the outside world like a mirror. Peaceful, but cold; somber, yet delicate. Clementine walked alone among lifeless silhouettes, guided solely by the flame in her heart. A soft tune emerged from the shadows, breaking the silence and making its way to her. She followed it promptly, her crutches leading her to a very familiar door. Through the gap, she could see light.

And there he was.

She smiled at the sight. He sat at the piano, his hands effortlessly gliding over its aged keys, creating the melody that beckoned her to come closer.

As she opened the door, Louis’ eyes fell upon her.

“Clem, you made it!”

Her eyes studied the music room in awe. Candles adorned the place, their warm colors accentuating the way the moon’s natural glow kissed their little sanctuary. Rose petalled flowers perfumed the air, beautifully arranged throughout the room, their essence fusing with the calming heat of the nearby flames.

It took her breath away.

“Louis, this… this is beautiful. You didn’t have to.”

“Oh, you haven’t even seen the best part!”

In a blink of an eye, the freckled boy removed a small bag of pretzels from his coat. Judging by how dusty it looked, it was safe to say the contents inside were, at best, stale. That didn’t seem to scare away the excitement in Louis’ voice, though.

“Since tonight is our first real chance at having a proper date after all this time,” he said, handing her the bag, “I figured the occasion called for a special kind of snack.”

“Oh god,” she groaned, failing to hide her amusement as she inspected the item more closely, “seriously, where do you keep finding these?”

Louis raised a brow at her question.

“And reveal where I keep my secret stash of below-average pretzels? I don’t think so.”

Clementine couldn’t help but giggle at her boyfriend’s witty nature. He smiled in return.

“Tonight’s show is about to start, and lucky for you,” he beamed, patting the seat next to him, “you were granted an exclusive seat!”

She rolled her eyes at that last part, leaving her crutches propped up against the piano as she sat next to him.

“Y’know, not many people get the chance to see the artist this close. I bet they’re jealous of you.” he added, sending a wink her way.

That earned him a smirk.

“Well, it’s not like there’s anyone else here.” she quipped.

“Hey! The squirrels are watching.”

And there it was again, the warm melody of her laughter. It was enough to make the otherwise steady drums in his chest go off beat, fluttering at a hasty rhythm. He lowered his head, a small smile blooming on his lips.

The piano shyly murmured as his fingers skimmed over its keys.

“So, any requests, your majesty?”

Clementine pursed her lips. There was a vast array of songs she could ask him to play. How was she supposed to pick? After moments of indecisiveness, she opted to hand him the reins; yet just as she was about to speak, one particular song popped up in her head, shadowing all the other ones.

“Remember the song you played when we first met?”

His eyes found hers in the comfort of the moonlight, hearts beating in unison as they ventured down the bridge guiding them to their past. Their first encounter started playing in Louis’ head like a never-ending film; it had been so long since, yet somehow he still remembered it as if it were yesterday. It brought a smile to his face.

“Of course. How could I forget?”

He let his fingers caress the piano keys ever so gently.

Oh, my darling, oh, my darling,

Oh, my darling Clementine,

His voice came in soft waves, gentle like a whisper in the wind. It was different from the first time he’d sung to her, energy dripping from his vocal chords as he performed for his small “crowd”. No, this time there was a certain peace to it, with the beautifully weaved notes swaying around the candle lights, a hint of melancholy in the way the words escaped his lips.

Clementine leaned against the boy’s shoulder, feeling her eyes succumb to the weight they’d been subject to for the past weeks. With a sigh, she allowed herself to rest at last, his voice cradling her in its soothing shroud.

You are lost and gone forever…

A chill pierced through the room, one that only Louis felt, as the weight of those words sank in. They echoed relentlessly in his head, like the silent cries of a tormented ghost. The more he tried brushing them off, the further the words entangled themselves around his throat, a tight chain binding him to a vision that made him sick to his stomach.

The girl waited for the next lyrics, but they never came. In fact, the music had stopped, too. When she opened her eyes, she found him seemingly lost, staring at the keys, his hands barely touching them. With her fingers slowly reaching for his shoulder, she expressed her worry through the gentleness of her tone.

“Is everything okay?”

A subtle frown enveloped his features, and although soon covered up, it was still noticeable enough for Clementine to know something was wrong. She opened her mouth to speak, but he was faster.

“On second thought, maybe we should try something else.”

She stared at him as his attention returned to the piano, brows knitted together in search of an answer. Why did he want to switch up the song?

All Louis could see was shapes of black and white, a tempest arising from beneath his fingertips as they blindly pressed against the ivories, determined in finding the right tune – anything that could draw him away from the bleak thoughts clouding his brain.

Clementine felt a slight sting in her chest as she watched him work his way through whatever was bothering him. Sympathetic, her gaze fell back upon him after she revisited the moment things had gone south in her head. It hadn’t taken her long to figure out why.

“Louis.”

He kept on going, refusing to give up on his seemingly impossible search. Endless attempts at stitching up a simple melody, yet despite his efforts none of the notes sounded right to his ears. The boy cursed under his breath.

A soft hand cupped his cheek.

“Louis, look at me.”

In one gentle move, their eyes met. It was all it took to break him out of the trance; a single look and he was already losing his grasp on reality, now diving into the beautiful golden ocean that was her eyes. Clementine held him in place, the warmth of her touch sending waves down his spine.

“I’m not going anywhere.” she whispered, her thumb softly brushing against his skin.

As if having life of its own, Louis’ hand gently trailed up her arm, eventually resting on her own, fitting just as perfectly as two puzzle pieces. She leaned in, resting her forehead against his in an act of reassurance.

“Sorry, I-…” he sighed, pulling away slightly, “I didn’t mean to get like this over a song, it’s just…”

The girl stopped him before he could go further.

“Hey, it’s okay.”

She didn’t blame him. After all they’d been through, all the close calls that could have gone terribly wrong, the bond they’d built … the thought of waking up in a world without one another had become unbearable. With that, what had once started as a playful song marking the beginning of their friendship, was now a reminder that everyone’s luck runs out sooner or later, including that of the ones you love.

The couple stayed quiet in each other’s embrace, watching the wax of the candles slowly melt away with every second that passed, leaving tracks of its fiery tears engraved on their honey-tinged surface. It was the perfect ambiance, giving off such tranquility and peace that it seemed nearly impossible to disturb; or at least so thought Clementine, until she was struck with something that caused her to leap out of her drowsy state.

“Hey, I’ve got an idea.”

A pair of inquisitive eyes darted in her direction.

“You know how you’re always telling me we should compose a song together…?” she began, moving her fingers along the sides of the instrument.

Louis didn’t even have to hear the rest of it; his eyes had already lit up, a pure reflection of the stars adorning the pretty night sky.

“Clementine, I… I’d love that.”

She smiled at him.

“Why don’t you start coming up with a tune?” she said, gesturing toward the piano, “I’ll help wherever I can.”

And so, he did just that.

After spending what seemed like hours carefully crafting a melody, a trial filled with lots of back and forths between the two, alongside the occasional chuckle at Clementine’s musical inexperience, the pair was finally happy with the result. It had been a tiring process, its effects arising mainly in the energy department; but at the end of the day, they’d do it again in a heartbeat.

A sigh escaped the freckled boy as he grazed his fingers over the keys he’d grown to love over the years. Clementine watched him tenderly, a simple nod encouraging him to delve once more into the path they’d walked on together.

With a soft smile on his lips, Louis started from the beginning.

It was a warm tune, one that irradiated a glow so bright that even the timid moon was drawn to its beauty. A melody so gentle and yet so passionate, a paradox proven possible with every press of a key. An aurora of emotions – bliss, melancholy, hope – all tugging at the strings in their hearts.

But there was something missing; something they hadn’t spoken a word of. Something Clementine was about to fix.

Taking a deep breath, she let herself free.

You rest inside my mind,

Since the day you came,

I knew you would be with me,

Louis’ eyes widened at the sound of her voice. Just like a soft breeze brushing against a vast field of flowers, she flew gracefully over every note. Each word rolled off her tongue with such ease, resembling a single ripple in the calm waters of an unexplored sea. It made the flame inside his chest grow wider, leaving him in awe of the girl he was eternally grateful to have met.

Oblivious to the freckled boy’s thoughts, Clementine focused only on speaking on behalf of her heart. Closing her eyes to the world, she found inner peace as her voice merged once again with the soothing melody echoing throughout the room.

All the time we spent,

What we shared was surely,

Warm enough to know you cared for me.

Louis’ hands lingered onto the ivories after her singing reached its end, her smile emerging from underneath the glimmer of the moonlight. She felt the thumping in her chest calm as the remaining notes came to life in one final stroke, bringing the song to its grand finale. As if carried to the realms of a heavenly dream, Clementine opened her eyes to find the boy staring at her so lovingly, his tenderness the reason for the sudden heat rising on her cheeks.

“Clementine, that… that was beautiful.”

She failed at suppressing a shaky laugh. It had been the first time she’d sung to him, and here she was silently telling herself that it wouldn’t be the last. Her eyes followed the trail to his own, a journey only complete after her hand had reached his, fingers intertwining in their perpetual longing for each other’s touch.

And she smiled.

“Couldn’t have done it without you.”

The warmth he felt inside his core almost took his breath away. He was mesmerized by her, lost in what seemed to be a never-ending mirage. His gaze, so intense, so loving, it spoke to her in a prose whose adoration words could barely replicate – it touched her soul.

Never had his heart screamed so loud for someone.

Just like that, Louis listened to the ballad in his chest and let his actions speak for himself. Gently pulling her in, he pressed his lips against hers, sealing that moment for eternity. The kiss was like a lullaby, soft and affectionate, fueled by the chimes wavering within them. He would have eventually pulled away had Clementine’s hand not crawled up the back of his neck, keeping him close in their little corner of the world.

And in that beautiful starry night, bathed in the warmth of the surrounding flames, they made a promise to never lose one another.

#twdg #twdg the final season #twdg tfs #louisentine #clouis #twdg clementine #twdg louis #louis x clementine #clementine x louis #louisentine fanfiction #<3

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alarawriting · 4 years

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52 Project #15: The White-Haired Boy

They called him Alyn Ysmai, the White-Haired Boy. In the village he came from, it was said he had fallen from the sky as a child, carried on a shooting star. His skin was white as the clouds, and his hair as white as the Moon, and his eyes the golden color of wild animals. From earliest days, it was said that the Lady of the Moon had marked him for her own, for his sight in the darkness was like that of the night beasts, while the sun blackened and blistered his moon-white skin. Later it became even more apparent that the Moon had favored him.

None could resist the charming spell of his words, his eyes. Like the Moon, he mesmerized. All the young women and not a few of the young men threw themselves into his arms, desperate for his love. Not a few of these killed themselves afterward, too, when he abandoned them for a new lover or cruelly rejected them.

In the 25th year of his life, he still had the form and features of a boy, but a boy so beautiful none could take their eyes from him. To men who had never before considered another male attractive, he seemed almost a woman in his beauty, and they gave him anything he asked. He was as precocious in mind as he seemed slowed in his growth; when 13, he completed his Passage to manhood by trickery, and since then had made three fortunes and become Captain of a vast Company, specializing in the acquisition and sale of information, as well as the dispatching of skilled assassins. All the other Companies in the city of Tylar trembled in fear of Alyn Ysmai, and his every word was law. Some grumbled, quietly, that Alyn Ysmai sought to make himself a Lord, as they had in some of the barbarous lands of Lysar. But they grumbled this very quietly indeed, or they vanished, never to be seen again.

In truth, the charge had teeth. Alyn Ysmai held a kind of court, where people seeking favors from him came to grovel and beg. Sometimes it pleased the White-Haired Boy to grant their requests. More often, it pleased him to shred their feelings, humiliate them, ruin them, or else steal their souls and make toys of them. Few, few women dared go to him; ever since the Captain of a rival Company killed herself for love of Alyn Ysmai, none who sought men for their night's pleasure, male or female, went to the White-Haired Boy unless their need was very great. The old and hardened, the men and women who loved only women, these were the only ones safe from loving him, and these faced other dangers of the soul instead.

There were those who said he was the son of the Lady of the Moon, one of the star angels fallen out of the night sky. Others said he was a demon from beneath the ground, with his skin that could not bear the daylight. It was people possessed of the former opinion that Alyn Ysmai surrounded himself with.

One day in his 25th year, as the White-Haired Boy held his "court", an old woman was brought to him. She had the reputation of a seer, but none of the psychic Companies would take her, claiming she was a charlatan who prostituted whatever Gift she had. Her only son had betrayed his Company and broken his bloodpaper, and so a deathpaper had been placed on him. She had come to beg Alyn Ysmai to use his influence to save her son.

His gold eyes bored into her own, and it seemed to her he could see all she desired, and more; all her pains, her tragic memories, all her deficiencies and the weaknesses in her heart. Almost, she cringed from his gaze-- she was not a very brave woman. But though she was not brave, and though she might be called a trickster, still she loved her only son. So she bowed deeply, instead. "My lord of the white hair, my humble bones groan with the honor you place on my shoulders, agreeing to lower yourself to see me. Words cannot describe my gratitude and humility..."

"Then don't waste them," Alyn Ysmai said, and his smile was as cold as ice. "I am not terribly fond of lowering myself to see gutter trash like you, old woman. Apparently you convinced my assistants that you were worth my time; either you've got a treasure unheard-of hidden in those rags, or you've a silver tongue. In which case, it would look very attractive if I melted it down and made a necklace out of it. So which is it?"

The woman quailed at his vicious words, all the more terrible for the mild, somewhat bored tone they were spoken in. Trembling, she prostrated herself at his feet. "O most noble lord, I have had a vision concerning your exalted self. Poor as a seer though I might be, still it is said that the gods may choose base vessels for their lofty messages, and who can gainsay the will of the gods?"

"Oh, you have a vision. Concerning me. No doubt, something about how I will be successful in love, or achieve wealth, or something. Since if you came with some doomsaying prophecy, you wouldn't expect a gift for it." He yawned, ostentatiously. "You have no way of knowing how tired I am of every halfwit who fancies herself a seer telling me things about my future anyone could have guessed from looking at my past. If this is another of those tedious predictions, I don't want to hear it."

"No, no, nothing like that, noble one! My vision concerns your true nature, and your rightful position among the people of Tylar. Indeed, the people of all the land of Taldyr!"

"Oh, don't tell me. I'm the chosen of the Lady of the Moon, right? I do get tired of this. Guards..."

"Wait! My lord, you don't know your true nature-- it's even greater than anyone had predicted!"

That had gotten his attention. He leaned forward slightly, gesturing to the guards to hold their places. "So tell me then, base vessel of lofty messages that you claim to be."

She dared not look at his eyes, or he would discern the truth of her message soon enough. She had to make him believe it. "My lord, as you know, four days ago was a night with no moon. It was on that night that I dreamed. I dreamed I went out into the street and looked up at the sky, and I could not see the Lady's face. I called out, 'My lady Moon, don't leave us behind! Don't leave us in darkness!'

"Then the stars spoke to me. They said, 'You fool! You call to the sky for the Lady, when she dwells on the same ground as you? Your brains are addled, old woman!'

"I asked, 'How can the Lady be on the same ground as me? Surely any ground I walk on must be too unworthy for her exalted self...'

"They replied, 'Do not overestimate your importance, gutter slime. Your actions are so totally meaningless that they can have no bearing on the Lady's actions.'

"But then one of the stars said, 'Wait, brothers and sisters. Feeble, old and unworthy this piece of human trash may be, but she may yet perform a valuable service for us. After all, she is not the only human who does not know what magnificence walks among them.'

"'That is true,' said the other stars. Then they said, 'Our Lady walks among your people, in the very streets of your city, trapped by her enemy the Sun and unaware of who she truly is. We will give you a task worthy of far better than you, old woman, and no gods shall help you if you fail it. You shall find the Lady and inform her of who she truly is, and ask her to take her position of worship. For if, trapped on Talla in the body of a human, she does not receive the worship of her loyal servants, she will pine away, and the Moon, her visible manifestation, will fade forever from the sky.'

"'But she cannot be among the people of Tylar!' I protested. 'For her loyal worshipper and chosen servant, Alyn Ysmai, would surely have found her, seeing as he knows all that transpires in this city!'

"They laughed. Then they said, 'Oh, yes, Alyn Ysmai knows everything-- except the secret of his birth. Perhaps you have forgotten, old woman, that in other countries, the Moon is worshipped as a man. As lord of desire and love, the god you call the Lady of the Moon is not bound to the shape of a woman-- she contains within her the essence of the masculine, as well. Go and tell Alyn Ysmai that he is no mere servant of the Lady of the Moon-- he is the Moon, trapped in the form of a white-haired boy on Talla, bound by his enemy, the Sun. He must know himself for what he is and be worshipped, or he will never achieve the strength to break the bonds the Sun has placed on him and return to his rightful place in the heavens. Tell him, old woman!'

"And then I awakened. I feared to come to you at first, believing my dream only the foolish fancy of an old woman. But then I remembered the legend, that the touch of the Sun corrodes your skin. There have been others favored of the Moon, but it is the birthright of all humans to touch the Sun and be warmed. If the Sun is inimical to your existence, my lord, then you cannot be human. Your substance is of an entirely different nature, and the Sun is its ancient enemy.

"Is it true, my lord? Does the touch of the Sun truly burn your skin? Are you the Moon in human incarnation?"

Alyn Ysmai stared at the old woman, shocked to his core. Always had he believed he was touched by divinity, but never that he was divinity himself. Could he believe that? Dared he believe that? If he was not the Moon, and claimed to be, would not she withdraw her protection from him, as punishment for his pride?

Yet-- if he was the Moon, it would explain a very great deal. It would explain his power to see into the hearts and sometimes the minds of others, knowing what they felt as if it showed on their faces even when they showed no sign, and sometimes knowing their thoughts as if they had spoken them, even when they had made no sign. That was no seer's power, no psychic's trick-- that was a far greater power than the humans of Talla had, and he had it. Why? Why did the sun sear his skin? Why was he so pale, as if all the color had been drained from him, when even the babies never bronzed by the blue-white sun were born brown? All around him had black or red hair, curled tightly, loosely, or waving-- his was white and straight as moonlight. All around him had eyes of black or brown-- his were tawny gold. The men of 25 years that he knew were muscular and tall-- he was yet small and slight, with the beauty but not the strength of a woman, as if he were yet a boy. Why?

If he were the Moon, trapped here by the Sun-- oh, that would explain it all. A deity in human form could not be expected to look human. The Sun's substance would corrode the Moon's skin, naturally. And he could not grow to full manhood as long as he remained ignorant of his true nature.

No wonder people loved him whenever he wished, if he was the god of desire and love. No wonder people threw their reason away for him, lost their willpower to his, when will and reason were gifts of the Sun, if he was the Sun's ancestral enemy. It all made beautiful, perfect sense. He felt a sudden rush of warmth for this old woman, who had shown him the truth of what he was.

"Yes," he said. "Yes, it's all true. Now that you tell it to me, it's so obvious I wonder how I could have failed to see it before. I am the Lady of the Moon." He stood, and graciously helped the old woman to her feet. "You've done me a great service, old woman," he said. "Is there any service I can do for you, as a token of my gratitude?"

"If you would, my exalted Lord," she whispered, her eyes cast at the ground. "My dear and only son, the delight of his mother's old age, has had a deathpaper placed on him by the Athysuvyras Company. If you would only use your great powers to make them rescind the papers and let him join a new Company..."

"I'll do that," the White-Haired Boy, now revealed as the Lady of the Moon, told her. He took from her the details of the case, and dismissed her. Then he dismissed all those who sought an audience with him. Turning to his subordinates, he said, "You've heard what she said. Do you believe it true? Will you accept me, not only as your Captain, but as your goddess?"

As one, all of them bowed deeply. His second-in-command, a woman he had never found attractive enough to seduce but who loved him deeply, said, "We will follow you even to death, my Captain and Lady, my god. Command us, and we will follow."

"Then we all go to the temple of the Moon-- to My temple, tonight. There are a few matters I wish to discuss with My priests." Already he had shifted into the dialect used only in myths and religious services, the speech used by the gods to mortals.

***

In the temple, the Lady's priests awakened as their goddess's manifestation first began to brighten in the sky. They went about their duties as if this were a day like any other, until they heard a clamor outside.

One of the priests went to the door, and saw there the White-Haired Boy, followed by a hundred or more. It was well-known that Alyn Ysmai was the favored of the Moon, and so the priest opened the gates. "What brings you to the temple this fine night, sir?" he asked.

Alyn Ysmai looked at him with an expression of cold fire, and the priest suddenly wanted to wilt into the ground beneath and die. "You will address Me with proper respect," the White-Haired Boy said. "It has been revealed to Me today that I am your Goddess, taken flesh in the form of a human male. I wish to address all of My priests. Call them from their duties and have them assemble in the main courtyard."

Stunned, the priest managed to stammer, "Y-yes, my lor-- my Lady..." He turned and ran, to bring the news to the other priests, his mind in turmoil. How could it be that they had not divined the presence of the Lady in their midst? Something had gone terribly wrong.

The priests came out from the chambers where they worshipped the Lady with their bodies, men and women with disheveled hair and hastily-donned ceremonial clothing. Hairbrushes and makeup flew about as they tried to restore themselves to the beautiful aspect they should present, before their goddess should arrive.

Then finally the White-Haired Boy strode into the room. He had dressed in the garment of a priest himself, and was made up to be unbearably beautiful. None who looked at him could disbelieve that he held feminine essence in himself, nor could they disbelieve that he was Desire incarnate. His followers mingled with the priests and prostrated themselves in the courtyard, except for the bodyguards who stood behind him. In his pale white beauty he seemed to glow like the moon itself, and this is what he said:

"Listen, priests of My temple! Today it has been revealed to Me that I am not merely the favored child of the Moon. I am the Moon herself, taken flesh in My male aspect. The Sun, my ancient enemy, has trapped Me here, giving Me a male shape in a place where I am worshipped in My female aspect. But look at Me! Can you not see in Me the duality of My nature?" His voice became seductive, his whole body sensuality incarnate. Every lover of women saw a woman in him, while every lover of men saw him as a man, and all adored him beyond belief. "Is there anyone here who does not desire Me? Who does not think Me beautiful? Who would not die for Me, should I ask it?"

"No one, Lady, no one!" the prostrated priests and followers chorused.

He beckoned to one of the followers. "Stand up and be counted!" he called to him, and the man stood. "Do you not love Me?"

"Yes-- yes, my Lady! I will do anything for You!"

"Take your knife and plunge it into your breast for Me, then," Alyn Ysmai said.

Mesmerized by the burning gold eyes and the beauty, the man did so, and died with a cry of anguish and ecstasy as his own knife pierced his heart.

As the man fell dead, Alyn Ysmai said, "From this day forth, all of you will direct your worship to Me, to My fleshly aspect, as well as to My heavenly manifestation. You will obey My every order without question, and serve the desires of the flesh I wear. If I tell you to break all your bloodpapers, to murder your employers, to make the streets run with the blood of those who worship My enemy the Sun, you will do it. And I will reward you with My presence, and with fortune in love, so long as you please Me."

***

They built Alyn Ysmai a throne in the temple, and brought him the finest brocades to wear, the finest delicacies to eat. He enslaved the hearts and minds of those who opposed him, or claimed he was no god. If they hated him too much to be enslaved, his followers and priests would compete to devise new and interesting ways of putting them to painful death. People broke their bloodpapers and murdered their employers at his order, just as he had said, and when deathpapers were placed on those who had committed the crimes, his worshippers would rise up against that company and devastate it. The streets ran with the blood of those who worshipped the Sun, or sometimes, any god but Alyn Ysmai. Those who earned his gratitude had great rewards granted them, and led enviable lives. Those that disappointed him were required to abase or humiliate themselves, or sometimes to commit horrible suicides.

And through it all Alyn Ysmai grew very bored.

He showed no sign of aging, of developing a more manly body. Worship satiated him, but gave him no mystic strength to command the heavens, or any other of the great powers that should be his by right. And his pleasures had to grow progressively more unusual to appeal to his jaded soul.

Finally, one night he had a dream.

In the dream he saw a woman, and she was mirror to himself, with long hair the color of moonlight, and eyes the color of night. Her body was perfection, and more than perfection, and he fell immediately in love with her, desperately and completely.

"Alyn Ysmai," she said, and her voice was the music of the night. "I've heard a great deal about you."

"Have you?" he asked, and his mouth was dry.

"You're very beautiful," she said. "Truly, you are favored." And she smiled at him with biting sharpness. He could not tell if her smile was a mockery, or if she meant what she said. For the first time, his gifts deserted him, and he could tell nothing about her, affect nothing of her.

"You are also very beautiful," he managed.

"Yes, I am, aren't I?" she said, and stepped toward him.

She drew him into her embrace, and it was like nothing he had ever experienced. It was more real than any dream he had ever had-- more real, in fact, than reality had ever been. And when she took him in love, there was more pleasure than he had ever imagined, more than he could easily comprehend.

Then she faded like smoke out of his arms, leaving him unfulfilled and despairing. He called out to her... and realized that he was awake.

Desperate with unfulfilled desire, he summoned one of his priests, a beautiful woman trained in all the arts of pleasure, to his bed. But she was empty, hollow, after the woman of last night. He felt dirtied by her touch, and experienced no enjoyment, only the release of a physical pressure. His mind and soul were left as unfulfilled as before.

For hours he lay in bed, throughout the burning day, trying to regain the dream he'd lost, but to no avail. Finally, sick to the soul, he rose with the moon, dressed, and glanced out the window.

She was standing in the courtyard below.

Alyn Ysmai was down the stairs faster than anyone should be able to move. But when he reached the courtyard, she was gone.

"Did you see a woman here?" he demanded of a priest passing by. "A woman, with hair and skin as light as my own?" In his desperation, he forgot the terms of godly address, and spoke just as he had when he was thought an ordinary man.

"No-- no, my Lord," the man said. "I saw no one."

"Did you see her?" the White-Haired Boy demanded of other priests, searching the entire courtyard. "Did you? Did you?"

Finally one said, "I think I saw a woman like that heading out the gates, my Lord."

Like a man possessed, Alyn Ysmai headed for the gates, searching for the woman. Already he knew that he would never know pleasure, real pleasure again, never enjoy anything in life again, until he found her. Without her, his life would be empty and meaningless. And when he found her, she would become the reason for his existence. He would worship her, as he himself was worshipped, and give her everything he had, and in return she would give him pleasure far beyond the domain of mortal men.

So he went into the city, and demanded of passersby that they tell him where she had gone. He had none of his bodyguards, but the force of his need was such that even those who hated him answered him readily. It did no good. The fragments he learned indicated that she had somehow drifted out of the city, like a flower blown on the wind. He turned and left the city, hiking out into the wilderness to seek her out.

In the day he sheltered from the sun under the rich brocades his worshippers had given him, and still he searched. In the night, he drove himself without food, without sleep, crossing the wilderness alone, and still he searched. And for days and nights he searched, until days turned to weeks, and then to months, and then to years. And still he searched... for his life would not be complete until he found her again.

In the city, his worshippers tried to follow him, but found that the moon was too dim to find him by-- it clouded their vision, somehow. And slowly they awoke, as if from a dream, and realized that their goddess in male cloak would not be returning to them. So they resumed the old patterns of worship, and the life of the city returned to the way it had been, before the arrival of the White-Haired Boy.

***

In the heavens, the Lord of the Night, master of sleep and dreams, and his sibling the Lady of the Moon, stood in the palace of the sky and looked down. Alyn Ysmai still continued his desperate quest for the woman who had stolen his soul-- she who was none other than the true Lady of the Moon, herself.

"I'm not sure I should have let you enter his dream," the Lord said. "You've stolen his soul, sister, and doomed him to wander all Talla, searching for you."

"Surely you don't think the punishment was too extreme," the Lady of the Moon said, surprised at her brother. "The White-Haired Boy brought chaos to the city he dwelt in. He toyed with the hearts and minds of others, and destroyed people for no better reason than his own pleasure, or to alleviate his boredom. If anyone on all Talla could be called evil, it would be Alyn Ysmai. Surely you must realize how much he deserved his fate, brother! I did nothing more to him than what he did to countless others."

"I know," the Lord said gravely. "For what he did, the White-Haired Boy deserves a thousand punishments, and I don't grieve to see him tormented the way he tormented so many others. But I question your motives, sibling."

"My motives? Why do you question--"

"When he won the hearts of all his family, so that they spoiled him and gave him all he desired, you smiled on him. When he tricked people of their birthrights and of their bloodpapers, you clapped your hands in delight like a small child. And when he played with the hearts and minds of others, enslaving people to his desires, robbing them of will, making them his toys, you laughed and beamed down on him. He was your favored child, agent of your pleasures and your manipulations. It wasn't until he grew arrogant enough to believe himself you, to steal your worshippers and rain blood in your name, that you grew angry enough to punish him." The Lord of the Night gazed sternly at his sister. "You destroyed him, not because he was evil-- for he was evil even before he took your temple, made so by the gifts you gave him. No, you destroyed him for the sake of your own pride."

And the Lady of the Moon could make no reply, for it was true.

***

They say the White-Haired Boy lived a long, long time, and spent all that time searching for the Lady of the Moon, never finding the cruel goddess again, nor regaining her favor. Some say that he wanders Talla still, calling her by the name "Beloved," calling to her as he searches. If you cross his path, these say, he will doom you to a devastating and unrequited love, to make another share his anguish. Others say he died a long time ago. But even those turn aside when they see a pale form in the distance, on a moonlit night, or when they hear the wind crying a name.

***

Translator’s notes:

Aside from the Great Diaspora, when the people of Laon fled their original homeworld, and the world of Scamara, which according to their legends wasn’t settled by willing Laon’l, there is very, very little evidence of Laon’l space travel prior to being contacted by the Galactic Confederation. This is understandable; prior to the Diaspora, the Laon’l perceived space to be the realm of demons, while the chthonic realms of their planet’s depths were understood to be the realm of their afterlife, cradled in the peaceful bosom of their Mother. After the Diaspora, Laon’l saw space as the realm of their tormentor, the Daishenéon Emaroth (the title translates as either “Great Empress” or “Greatest of Demons”.)

However, it cannot be denied that on the new world of Laon, the technology for space travel existed, and the Laon’l leadership has always tended to be conservative and controlling – a combination that often leads free-thinkers, iconoclasts, and members of minority cultures to flee their homes. The Laon’l leadership is known to have suppressed any knowledge of individuals fleeing Laon, in the past, but archaeologists have found evidence of attempts to build spaceships. Until now, however, we’ve found no evidence on Laon’l presence on any world other than Laon and Scamara.

This particular legend comes from the continent of Taldyr on Talla, and has been understood by the Taldyrese to be fictional, or possibly to be based on the actual exploits of a charismatic leader with albinism. However, there are certain factors that suggest that this is not the case.

- The White-Haired Boy is presented as unusually sensitive to Talla’s sun. The blue-white sun of Talla is in fact a serious problem for the rare Tallese albinos, and for humans of the “Caucasian” subgroup and Draigoili of the “anthela” subgroup, but only Laon’l are known to actually die of radiation poisoning from a full day of exposure to the Tallese sun (during summer, or near the equator, and on a cloudless day). The exaggerated sensitivity the White-Haired Boy supposedly had to sunlight in legend sounds significantly more like Laon’l sensitivity to the Tallese sun than to the sensitivity Tallese albinos exhibit.

- The White-Haired Boy, if he existed, would almost certainly have had to be psionic to demonstrate the abilities he supposedly had. This might simply be a convention of fiction – on Earth, another low-psi world, legendary figures have abilities that in reality would require powerful psi, as a matter of routine. But Alyn Ysmai is actually the only Tallese legendary figure to demonstrate abilities that seem to fall in the range of telepathy, telempathy or expathy; most Tallese trickster figures or legendary heroes have abilities that cannot be explained by psionics, such as shapeshifting, flight, abnormally high strength, et cetera.

- “Fallen from the sky as a child, carried on a shooting star” : any version of the Alyn Ysmai legend that covers his childhood at all makes reference to this part of the legend. The resemblance to a spaceship crash-landing is obvious.

- “had the form and features of a boy”, references to the femininity of the White-Haired Boy – Laon’l are significantly more neotenous than other humanoid species, and typically have less sexual dimorphism. To a Tallese of a thousand years ago, a Laon’l of 25 Tallese years would look much more like a teenager, and would appear more androgynous than the average Tallese teenager.

- Talla’s star is visible in the sky of Laon, often during the day. It’s one of about ten stars that writings of Laon’l who believed their species should return to space spoke of attempting to reach.

- Laon’l and Tallese are not interfertile without modern genetic engineering, and some variants of the Alyn Ysmai legend make much of the fact that he fathered no children. No variants claim that he did have children. With the amount of coitus, the number of partners the legends suggest he would have had, and the social status he had, it’s implausible that he wouldn’t have had children if he were fertile at all.

Of course, all of this is circumstantial evidence; without access to Alyn Ysmai’s remains, we have no way of proving for certain his species. However, it’s fairly strong circumstantial evidence.

Given the value to identifying evidence of pre-GalConfed Laon’l space travel, we suggest that an archaeological expedition to Talla to attempt to determine whether the White-Haired Boy actually existed or not, and to potentially recover whatever may be left of his remains, should be funded within the next five years.

#52 project #laon #talla #galconfed universe

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razieltwelve · 4 years

Text

The Chooser of the Slain (RWBY AU Snippet)

This is set after The Chosen.

X X X

Weiss walked up to the gate of the facility and waved at the camera. "Good evening, gentlemen. If you would be so kind as to open the gate…?"

There was a brief pause, and a smile tugged at her lips as she caught the sound of boots tromping around behind the gate. A small door opened, and armed men poured out of it. In less than a minute, she was surrounded by eight heavily armed guards.

Her gaze drifted over her would-be opponents. Rifles, specialised ammunition, body armour. They had come to fight, but they weren't facing another mortal. They were facing one of the Chosen. They might as well have brought confetti for all the good it would do them.

"Unknown Chosen!" one of them barked. "Step away from the gate!"

"I see." A smile ghosted across Weiss's lips. The spotlights on the walls bathed the area in brightness. If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine she was on a stage. How long had it been since she'd performed? Not since she'd been Chosen, and perhaps several more years before that too. "You know what I am, but you don't know who I am."

"Step away from the gate, or we will open fire!"

Her smile turned almost gentle, and her voice was nearly soothing. "Please, it's not you I'm after. There are White Fang in your facility. I want them. Hand them over, and I'll be perfectly happy to leave."

"This is your last warning! Step away from the gate!"

"My quarrel is not with you. Stand aside, and you may live." Weiss's eyes narrowed. "Stand in my way, and every one of you will die this day." She spread her arms as though to greet a crowd. "I am Chosen - Death's Chosen - and this is your last and only warning. Move or die."

They chose death.

To a normal person, dodging a bullet would have been impossible. To a normal Chosen, bullets could not only be dodged. They could be blocked, deflected, or even caught. Weiss wasn't a normal Chosen. She was Death's Chosen. To her, the bullets might as well have been standing still.

The first bullet was well aimed. Had she simply stood there like a fool and let it hit her, the projectile would have buried itself in the middle of her forehead. Of course, she wasn't a fool, and she had no intention of dying here, not that a bullet fired from a normal gun by a normal person could ever hope to kill her.

A flick of her wrist conjured a blade of ice and shadow, and she breezed forward, as light and easy on her feet as a dancer. She sliced the bullet in half, and the two halves spun through the air to lodge in the eyes of two of the other guards. Still moving too fast for any of the guards to perceive, she darted forward and buried the blade in the throat of the guard who'd fired the first shot. She dragged the blade from left to right and then hurled it into the forehead of another guard.

Four of the guards were already dead even if they were too slow to realise it just yet. As the blood poured out of her opponent's throat, she smiled beatifically and pulled.

Death's power let her seize control of the blood. A thought was all she needed to propel four drops of it at speeds far beyond any bullet. The four other guards were dead before they could even think of dodging, and all eight bodies hit the ground almost at the same time. It was music to her ears, and she could almost hear the phantom applause of the goddess she served.

There was nothing Death appreciated more than a good kill.

Smile widening, she pulled the blood out of all of the bodies and pointed at the gate. It was a good, solid gate. Unless she missed her guess, it was at least five feet of solid steel reinforced with both technology and as much magic as the authorities could muster.

It wasn't nearly enough.

Normal people could wield magic of a sort although most couldn't do more than light a candle or shift a pile of paper. Those with more power and talent invariably found themselves drawn to occupations where they could use it because magic demanded to be used. It was why Chosen could never live simple lives. Once they were Chosen, they couldn't help but act.

The blood shifted and froze. It became a whirling tornado of jagged ice and bloody shadows. The sound it made as it ripped through the gate was music to her ears. Gesturing, she shoved the remains of the gate aside and walked into the facility.

They greeted her with gunfire, grenades, and whatever magic they could muster. She spread her arms again. It was so nice to be welcomed. The blood around her quivered in anticipation and then leapt forward to intercept the attacks. Projectile after projectile was batted aside, and the explosions from the grenades were swallowed whole.

A loud bang filled the air, and Weiss turned her head as the blood blocked a round from an anti-materiel rifle loaded with ammunition so heavily enhanced it actually stood a chance of damaging a Chosen. She smiled and then pointed. A glyph formed in the air above one of the nearby watchtowers before a vast spire of ice erupted upward. The screams were cut off as abruptly as they'd started.

She chuckled as more guards ran into the courtyard backed up by several armoured vehicles.

"What a wonderful welcoming committee you've organised for me." She looked up at the sky. The moon was large and full, as silver, cold, and remote as Death's gaze. "My goddess will be pleased."

X X X

Weiss stepped down on the throat of one of the guards and watched the light leave his eyes before she looked up. It had begun to rain. How odd. She hadn't thought it would rain tonight. Then again, perhaps this wasn't normal rain. High above her, lightning crackled through the clouds. Thunder boomed overhead, and the lightning gathered, focusing onto a single point.

"Another Chosen?" She looked heavenward and let the rain sweep over her face. Had it been raining the night Death Chose her? Strangely, she couldn't quite remember. She should be able to remember, shouldn't she? "Let's see what you can do."

X X X

Ren was not the sort of person most people would have associated with the goddess Nora. The Goddess of Storms was loud and boisterous, straightforward and direct in everything she did. Yet she had Chosen him despite his calm and introverted nature. At first glance, his own innate magic, which focused almost entirely on stealth and concealment, ought to make him a poor candidate to wield the lightning that Nora was so famous for.

Or not.

Hidden in the clouds, Ren focused on gathering as much of the storm's power as he could. Whoever this enemy Chosen was, she'd obliterated the forces defending the special facility tasked with holding the most dangerous criminals. Even he wouldn't have been able to cut through them the way she had. Ordinarily, he would have tried to reason with another Chosen, but this wasn't a battle where he could afford to hold back.

As the storm's power reached its zenith, he called on his own magic and stepped. He reappeared on the ground behind the other Chosen a split-second later, a hammer made of pure lightning in his hands. Without making a sound, he hurled it straight at her - only for her to turn her head and look right at him.

For a moment, he could only gape in shock as a small smile crossed her lips. How had she known he was there? The speed of his movement combined with his stealth should have made it impossible for anyone to detect him until after the attack had already connected.

Her eyes. It had to be her eyes. They'd been blue only a moment ago, but now they were bleeding into a moon-like silver. A chill ran through him. Those were Death's eyes looking back at him, the eyes that saw the truth, the eyes that saw the world for how it truly was. She lifted one hand, and a shield of ice formed around her. The lightning hammer struck, and there was a sound like the ending of the world as all the power of the storm poured out of it.

The hammer was a shaft of coruscating brightness as it pushed the other Chosen back, her feet digging trenches into the concrete, before the attack lifted her off her feet and hurled her back. She tumbled end over end, smashing through several burnt out vehicles and a wall before the lightning hammer exploded in a blast of power that momentarily turned the night into day. As the brightness faded, he could see a vast crater of molten rock. The rain had been turned into clouds of steam by the heat, and tendrils of electricity lashed the area.

Yet at the centre of the crater was an unblemished dome of ice, blood, and shadow that shattered like glass to reveal that the other Chosen was unharmed.

"Magnificent," she said. "Incredible speed and stealth combined with an attack designed to catch the opponent off guard and kill them before they can even think of defending themselves." She inclined her head. "It's been a long time since I've faced such a worthy technique, but… that was almost certainly your trump card, yet here I am, still standing. Tell me, what will you do now? You've used your strongest weapon, and now you stare Death in the face."

Ren didn't bother to reply. Her insight was unnerving. He had tried to end the fight in a single blow. True, he hadn't succeeded, but he hadn't come alone either.

A car hurtled through the air. The Chosen cut it in half and flung one half back toward Jaune as the blond exploded onto the scene, wreathed in his own power. Calling on the gifts given to him by Pyrrha, Jaune shoved the slab of mangled metal aside and tossed half a dozen more cars at the other Chosen. She laughed like a child who'd stumbled across an interesting toy, and each car was knocked away by shards of ice.

"Hmm… you're not nearly as subtle as your friend there," she drawled.

"Give me a second," Jaune shot back. "And I might just surprise you." He grinned and then flexed his fingers.

Hidden amongst the cars were wires - ultra-thin metal wires controlled by the powers Jaune had gained as Pyrrha's Chosen. Each was incredibly durable, and each was vibrating at a speed that would allow them to cut through almost anything. Ren jerked his hands out, and electricity surged through the wires. His control was good enough to leave Jaune unharmed, but the same would not be true for their enemy.

Dozens of wires closed in, a testament to Jaune's training. Surrounded by so many, it should be impossible for her to dodge - so she didn't. She lifted one hand, and scythe of pure darkness formed. The weapon leapt out quicker than any cobra striking, and the wires fell away, sliced to pieces.

"Interesting but futile."

Jaune wasn't done yet. The wires split into thousands of tiny pieces, and his jaw clenched as he gestured again and launched them at the other Chosen like bullets.

"Ah, even more interesting… but still equally futile."

A wave of power rippled outward, and Ren found himself thrown back as everything in the other Chosen's vicinity disintegrated. This must be one of the powers she'd gotten from Death.

"I will commend you for your efforts," the other Chosen said. "But here is the problem. You serve gods - powerful gods, yes - but mere gods. I am the Chosen of a Greater God, and Death is as far beyond the gods you serve as they are beyond you. What else can you do except stall for time?"

The answer came a moment later.

The sky above them lit up, and it seemed as though the sun itself risen, it was so bright. There was a whisper, a howl, a roar, and then a beam of pure, annihilating sunlight slammed down, heavier than any hammer, and hotter than any volcano. The ground liquefied instantly, and Ren staggered away, barely able to breathe as the air itself caught fire.

Blake landed beside him. The Faunus was wreathed in a mantle of fire and light. "It's not over yet, Ren." Her eyes narrowed. "She's still standing."

And she was. The other Chosen reached up to clutch at the scar that ran down her face. "Oh, this will be fun. I'd recognise that power anywhere. A Chosen of Yang?" She looked up at the sky, and at the moon, in particular. "Is this what you wanted, Death, for me to face these Chosen? Won't your sister be upset if I kill her Chosen?"

No reply came, well, no reply that Ren could hear.

The other Chosen turned back to them. "Three against one? You might almost stand a chance."

X X X

Author's Notes

So, Weiss has gone full murder mode here. The problem that Ren and the others face is two-fold. Not only does a Chosen draw power from the god they serve, which means a Greater God's Chosen will naturally be more powerful than the Chosen of a normal god, but Weiss has also 'levelled up', so to speak.

Remember what happened previously. Death gave Weiss her scar, and that is a means of marking her, a way of deepening the bond, which allows Weiss to call on more of her power. Ren and the others haven't reached that level of closeness with their respective gods yet, which means they're horribly outgunned. It'll be interesting to see how they fare.

If you’re interested in my thoughts on writing and other topics, you can find those here.

I also write original fiction, which you can find on Amazon here. I’ve recently released two stories, Attempted Adventuring and Surviving Quarantine, as well as an audiobook, Two Necromancers, a Bureaucrat, and an Army of Golems. If you like humour, action, and adventure, be sure to check them out.

#rwby #fanfiction #weiss schnee #lie ren #jaune arc #blake belladonna

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themosleyreview · 4 years

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The Mosley Review: Avatar: The Last Airbender Book One: Water (Season 1)

For the longest time, I’ve heard such great things about this animated series. From the few images I had saw, it sparked my interest and I searched for a way to view it. I wanted to truly binge the series without having to rent an absurd amount of DVD's. I did that with 24, Angel, Cowboy Bebop and Supernatural before they were available to stream on Netflix and even when they were streaming, I had to rent a disc to watch an episode that wasn't uploaded. So I sat back patiently and waited for the day that I could stream the entire series and thank you Netflix for finally bringing it home. I knew this was a beloved show for kids, but animation these days also appeal to adults with relatable messages and themes. Season 1 nailed that right from the beginning with its thematic commentaries on spiritualism, faith, toxic sexism and a mixture of different cultures. The amount of pure imagination to create a fully realized world was astonishing. I have seen the use of the 4 elements; Air, Water, Earth and Fire, many times before, but nothing comes close to the wholesome and inventive weaving that is done throughout the show. For so long I have felt that I have been missing out on something special and now I know that it was this show.

The voice cast was outstanding across the board. We are first introduced to the main heroes in a sweet, comical and explosive manner. Mae Whitman is the voice of Katara and she is very curious, outgoing and strong. Her genuine strong will to fight and evolve is truly magnificent and she instantly became a favorite. Whitman is a great actress on her own, but she did a fantastic job bringing Katara's personality to life. Jack DeSena voices her goofy, stubborn and reckless brother Sokka. He is more of the comic relief, but underneath all the ridiculous and sometimes toxic masculinity, you have one of the smartest and loyal friends you could ever ask for. DeSena kept him consistent throughout the season and yet he has a great deal of growth by the end of the season. Shortly after we meet Katara and Sokka, we are introduced to the lead of the series Aang and his loyal Sky Bison Appa. Aang is the all powerful Avatar that is known to harness all 4 elements, but we meet an innocent 12 year old boy who has been frozen for 100 years. Almost of the people he knew before have been lost to him. Zach Tyler Eisen voices Aang and he delivers the childlike fun and the pain and sadness that the character feels once he learns the heartbreaking truth. It's not all gloom though. Aang gains a new family in his friendship with Katara and Sokka and together they travel across the 4 nations; Water, Earth, Fire and Wind, to ultimately end the ongoing war. The 3 of them deliver outstanding performances and I would've loved to join them on their quest for peace.

With every heroes journey, there is an even more powerful villain they must face. The Fire Nation is the antagonistic force and constant threat in the season. The main antagonist is Prince Zuko and his wise uncle Iroh. Zuko was exiled by his father Ozai, the Lord of the Fire Nation. Since that day he has been hunting the Avatar in hopes to capturing him and restoring his honor in the eyes of the Fire Lord. Dante Basco voices Zuko and he delivers a sinister performance that is unrelenting and intense. You feel the guilt and bubbling rage in every word and in each command he gives. He is accompanied by his wise and worldly uncle Iroh who sometimes keeps him humble. Iroh has lived many lives already and is always there to help provide wisdom and guidance where Zuko is more destructive and reckless. Iroh is masterfully voiced by the magnificent Mako. Mako has always been one of my favorite Japanese actors and his unique voice brings that level of gravitas and warmth to your ears. You hang on to every word he has to say and this is by far one of his best performances.

The visual style of this serious is truly breathtaking and the animation was truly smooth and intoxicating to watch. The mixture of traditional western and eastern animation and the martial arts was amazing. The scope is vast and I can't wait to see what the other nations look like. This show is truly a piece of art that should be preserved. The score by composers Jeremy Zuckerman and Benjamin Wynn is truly spectacular and is a character of its own. Creators Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko, have truly created a new world that is rich with lore and an imaginative vision. I have fell in love with a show that I wish I hadn't missed in the beginning, but I am grateful to experience it now. This is a must watch that is currently on Netflix.

#avatar the last airbender #book one #water #mae whitman #jack desena #zach tyler eisen #dante basco #mako #nick #nickelodeon

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naturelax-site · 4 years

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Relax - Calming Sea - Mellow Wave Sounds - Nature Sounds for Sleeping, Meditation , Yoga. Why does the sea make us happy? Have you thought about it? Why does the sea attract us so much? There is something about water that fascinates us completely and irrevocably. We go there to relax with our family, recuperate, be alone, swim, sunbathe, feel connected to nature and find the meaning of life. The sea is us! The human body as a whole has almost the same density as water, which allows us to swim. In terms of its mineral composition, water in the cells of our body is comparable to sea water. The sea is a rest for the mind! In everyday life, we are attacked by sensory stimuli from all sides — at home, in the office, on the street. There are so many external stimuli and distractions that our brain and soul periodically need to arrange a good rest. Being at the sea is an ideal option. At the sea shore, our brain and our senses rest from over excitation, because before us is a vast sea, a vast sky, and nothing else. The sea has blue magic! People are naturally attracted to shades of blue. All over the world, this color is most often called a favorite, and it is ahead of its closest competitors by three or four times. Scientists believe that due to a certain wavelength, blue color produces a calming, relaxing and tonic effect and, therefore, causes a positive emotional reaction. The activation mechanism triggered by radiation with a blue wavelength can be compared to the release of neurotransmitters that cause euphoria and joy, a sense of reward and well-being. And these feelings are known to be associated with the action of dopamine. The sea helps us feel connected to nature! Buildings, shops, cars, things — the creations of human hands. They surround us everywhere, so it is often difficult for us to remember how closely we are connected to our beautiful blue planet. However, magic occurs in a split second if we notice how magnificent the natural world is: a breathtaking sunset, the whisper of the wind in the branches of trees, the fresh scent of raindrops on the grass or the taste of salty air on the ocean, the feeling of sand or earth under bare feet. Such moments reconnect us not only with the surrounding nature, but also with our own, making us realize that we are part of something immeasurably greater than ourselves. The immensity of the sea evokes awe, ecstasy, love, wonder, enlightenment, flow, unity. We have a strong emotional connection with ourselves and the planet. The sea inspires! Throughout the history of mankind, there are many examples of the close relationship of man with water, described in works of art and literature. We like to hear the sound of the sea, smell it, play in it, paint on canvas, surf, swim and fish, write about it, take photos and memorize it for a long time while walking along the shore. When we are near water, we become healthier, happier, less stressed, and feel at peace and in harmony with the surrounding reality. That is why the sea is the shortest path to happiness. "Naturelax" nature sounds videos are specially created for you to relax your body and soul. It is suitable for babies, children, teenagers and adults who need slow, beautiful, soft, soothing sounds to calm and fall asleep. Our healing sounds of nature can be used for relaxation, stress relief, learning, meditation, calming children, falling asleep, and romantic evenings. The nature video helps to reveal talents, inspires and pacifies. ❤ Subscribe to the channel and share the video with your friends! Thank you for rating our video! ❤

#relax #calming sea #wave sounds #nature sounds #naturelax

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eclecticstarlightconnoisseur · 5 years

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Edinburgh To Boston Chapter 8 - The Morning After.

Hello all, I am so sorry for the delay in posting this. It took a bit of time for all the corrections and rewrites that I had to do. I know some of you had read the preview but it has not changed too much.

I also want to thank everyone for their kind words and good wishes when I explained that things were delayed because my husband had taken ill. He is well and back to himself. I am adjusting to the new job and a little less crazy. A little I said.

I do need to thank two very special people @curlsgetdemgurls and @ladyviolethummingbird for being my betas on this chapter. I don’t know what I would have done without them. They are the best.

I am not promising when the next chapter will be out except to say that it is underway. I dislike promising something that I can’t keep.

So without further ado, I give you:

Edinburgh to Boston Chapter 8 The Morning After

Jamie Fraser laid in his hotel bed watching the dawn slowly break over the frozen sleeping city. The sky underwent a metamorphosis transitioning from the inky black of night to the vibrant colors of the day. Streaks of hot pink, vivid orange, and fiery golden yellow glowed in the heavens splattering across an underlying electric blue. It was breathtakingly beautiful, so beautiful as to cause him to weep. But nothing could surpass the goddess who slept beside him. Claire. His Sorcha, his light.

Claire lay on her side, back curled into his chest. Their bodies fit well together. Each one piece of a puzzle when combined made a whole, a complete picture.

He ran his hands along the planes of her body becoming familiar with each dip and luscious curve. Her body, while thin and lithe, spoke of a woman’s sensuality. A hand drifted to cup that sweet round arse of hers.

Aye, plump and juicy like a fat wee hen.

He felt himself rouse just from the mere thought of her. She consumed him. The need left him wanting, needing. He knew he could take her again and again and it would never be enough.

Smiling tenderly, Jamie brushed an errant curl away from Claire’s face. Her hair, that glorious mane, spread out across the pillow a tangled, tousled mess. She would awake and be annoyed with it. There would be fussing, muttered obscenities, and futile attempts to tame it into some semblance of order. Chuckling, Jamie admitted that one of the things he loved about her (and truth be told, he loved everything about her) was her hair, as it truly represents who she is. At times, she could be wild and free just like her curls. Most of the time she would confine her curly wig into a conservative bun. The reserved Dr. Beauchamp, her public persona. But, her hair would never stay in place. It always struggles to escape its confines and become free. He witnessed the wild and unrestrained side of his enchantress last night, giving and receiving pleasure without inhibition. She was simply magnificent. Jamie blushed at the thought of what they had done, hoping they could do that again soon.

Jamie yawned and stretched feeling each one of his vertebrae popping. He hadn’t slept much during the night. It was his duty to stand guard over his beloved as she slept. He was the Watcher of Her Sleep; The Guardian of her Dreams. Jamie snorted at himself.

“Becoming poetic are we, Fraser?”

He rolled his eyes at his own pretentiousness.

“Weel, if I’m becoming a poet, then she will be my poem.”

He grinned at the thought.

Eyes heavy and gritty from the lack of sleep, Jamie fought to stay awake. Wrapping his arms around Claire, he pulled her closer to his chest. Taking in a deep breath, he inhaled her sleepy scent. Her fragrance comforted him allowing him to relax. He settled himself spooning into her, back to chest, arse to groin, legs intertwined. The act while intimate soothed him. Jamie began to drift, feeling the pull of sleep and surrendered to it.

****************

The morning sunlight slowly crept along the floor clambering up the bed settling on Claire’s sleeping countenance rousing her from slumber. Eyes squinting, she blinked adjusting to the harsh glare suffusing throughout the room.

“I should have closed those bloody drapes last night.”

Peering through narrowed eyes at the clock, it cheerfully blinked 9:43 AM. Claire attempted to shift to her side, wanting very much to return to sleep. This proved impossible as she was held in the steel embrace of a very large, very warm...very naked Scot. One arm wrapped around her chest, while the other came around her waist, tightening every time she tried to move.

“Christ, this is what it must feel like being caught in a bear trap.”

Claire chuckled to herself imagining Jamie as a great giant red bear. Jamie pulled Claire closer making huffing and snuffling noises into her hair.

Falling into a deeper sleep, his arms became limp, the vise-like grip momentarily relaxed. Quickly, Claire changed position her head now resting on Jamie’s well-muscled torso. She centered her ear over his chest, listening.

Lub-Dub, Lub-Dub, Lub-Dub, Lub-Dub.

The sounds of the strong gentle beat of his heart hypnotic, serene. She felt content and safe surrounded by his arms, sharing a bed with him. Nestling closer, Claire became aware of a hardness pressing against her belly.

“Hmm, penile tumescence,” Claire, ever the clinician, mused “He must be in REM sleep.” She wondered what he could be dreaming about, hoping it was her.

******************

“Hello, Claire, I see you have taken a lover,” said a cultured English male voice. Tall and thin, he had the athletic grace of a tennis player. An attractive chap with an aristocratic face, he possessed dark wavy brown hair, and eyes of hazel flecked with honey. Attired in a three-piece brown suit, white button-down shirt, and striped tie, the figure jammed one hand into his pants pocket, cocked his head to one side, projecting a rakish air.

“Hello, Frank. Why don’t you go get stuffed? While you’re at it, get out of this bed,” Claire said her voice laced with anger.

Frank chose to ignore Claire’s request.

“He is rather large is he not?” Frank sneered. “Is that what appeals to you these days, Scottish barbarians? Are you having fantasies about being dominated that you need such a brute in your bed? I recall Joe Abernathy had you reading those dreadful novels. Ghastly, really. I can just imagine the title: ‘The Scottish Barbarian and the English Rose’,” he laughed contemptuously. “TSK, I always thought you to be a refined lady of gentle birth,” he said in a reproachful tone.

“Frank, you never took the time to know anything about me or what I needed or wanted. But Jamie does. Now get out of my head! Go away!”

“How sweet! Jamie, is it? Hmm, sounds rather boyish, doesn’t it,” The Englishman mocked.

“I’ll have you know he’s no boy,” Claire growled vehemently. “He’s more man than you’ll ever be. Jamie is kind, gentle, funny, supportive of me, and most of all he loves me. He is everything I could possibly want in a man — something you wouldn’t know anything about. I really don’t know why I am having this conversation with you.”

“You know perfectly well why Claire. You called me here to fuel your insecurities, your inadequacies. I am a figment of your imagination, your dreams. You only have yourself to blame.”

“You know you’re right. I did call you here. It’s to tell you I am no longer the frightened, insecure girl you knew. You can no longer intimidate me or make me feel inadequate. I have grown emotionally, and I found my self-confidence — no thanks to you. I am happy and in love. Yes, I am in love with Jamie. So, why don’t you just bugger off? Oh, and do us both a favor, don’t come back.”

“I’ll be back Claire when you call me again.” The fetch faded into the gray mist of her dream-world.

*************

It was late morning and the sky became a dazzling azure blue, vast and limitless. The sunlight reflected off the whiteness of the snow giving it an even greater brilliance. As the sun climbed higher, the reflection from the golden beams struck the sleeping lovers rousing them from the land of Nod.

Jamie woke first, finding Claire snuggled in his arms, head still pressed against his chest. He lowered his lips and kissed her lightly on the forehead. Her eyes blinked, as she slowly moved toward wakefulness.

“Good morning mo chridhe, did ye sleep well?”

“Yes, yes I did. And you? Did you sleep well?”

Claire hated lying to Jamie, but she was loath to start the day talking about her disturbing dream. She would tell him everything...later.

“Aye, I did. Better than I have in a long time.”

Jamie bent forward and kissed the tip of Claire’s nose, letting out a deep sigh of contentment.

“Are ye hungry a leannan?”

“Yes, famished. Aren’t you?” Claire looked up into his fathomless blue eyes.

“Aye, but what I’m hungry for is no’ on the menu.”

“I thought you would have had your fill of me last night.”

“Nah, never mo ghràdh.”

Jamie ran his fingers down the side of her cheek and along the sensitive skin of her neck. Claire shivered under his touch. In return, her hand went to the nape of his neck and at feeling the soft curls, brought his head down to her mouth. His lips were soft and warm. She melted into his kiss; her heart fluttering in her chest.

“I could get used to waking up like this every morning,” Jamie said his bright blue eyes twinkling.

“So could I,” Claire whispered as she stroked the rough plush of his morning stubble.

His large hands caressed her back up and down before settling on her arse giving it a good squeeze.

Claire squeaked.

“Ye ken, Beauchamp, it was torture watching ye walk away from me in yer scrubs. I’d see yer sweet fat arse swaying seductively as ye walked down the corridor. It took all my self-control not to throw ye over my shoulder, carry ye off, and have my way with ye on the spot,” he grinned.

Claire looked up at him offended,

“My arse is not fat, Fraser! I prefer to think of it as Rubenesque. More voluptuous, than fat.”

“Call it what ye will. ‘Tis fat. Just how I like it.”

With that, Jamie gave said arse a loving swat and got out of bed. He stood naked by the side of the bed stretching luxuriously. Claire did enjoy watching Jamie move. His movements graceful, belying the strength and power his body possessed. Bending down, he retrieved his robe and put it on.

“Why don’t ye take a bath while I order up some breakfast for us?”

“Alright, that sounds like a good idea.”

Claire slipped out of bed while Jamie held open her robe wrapping her snugly in it.

Claire walked to the bathroom, ran the water for the bath adding a bath oil and bubble bath called Romance to the water. The bubbles blossomed up like white fragrant clouds filling the air with the scent of roses, sage, orange, and rosemary as they dispersed. Claire entered the tub, slid down until she was covered in the sweetly scented foam to her shoulders.

“Ahh.”

Sighing, she closed her eyes, enjoying the absolute bliss of relaxing in the water. The door opened and Jamie stepped in carrying two champagne flutes, the champagne, and the strawberries.

“Mind if I join ye, lass?”

“No, not at all. There is plenty of room,” Claire looked up at him smiling.

Taking his phone from his robe pocket, Jamie put on some soft instrumental music, popped the cork on the champagne, poured the glasses, and placed a strawberry in each. Dimming the lights just a little, he removed the robe and joined Claire in the tub. Jamie moved with a natural elegance for such a large man, nimbly descending into the water without causing a wave or a ripple allowing them to face each other.

“Do ye no’ feel a wee bit decadent, mo chridhe? I’ve never done such a thing as this.”

He closed his eyes leaned back so only his head could be seen above the mass of bubbles and let out a contented sigh.

Claire giggled at the sight of him up to his neck in bubbles.

Jamie grinned and reached along the edge of the tub finding the champagne flutes and handed one to Claire.

“What should we toast to?” Jamie paused contemplating. “Ah, I have one. Here’s to a lady of grace, a woman of strength, a lass of astonishing beauty, and the woman that has captured my heart, Claire Beauchamp.”

Whether from the heat of the water, the nearness of Jamie, the effusive compliment, or all three, Claire’s face flushed.

Touching their flutes together, they sipped the champagne. When Jamie finished he retrieved the strawberry from his glass bit the bottom, causing the juice to flow freely. Jamie ran the berry seeping its sweet-tart fluid over Claire’s generous lips, painting them a ruby red. He pressed the fruit to her lips teasing them apart with Claire accepted his gift. She slowly chewed it all while her sultry amber eyes focused on him. A few drops of sweet liquid trickled out of Claire’s mouth settling onto her lips. Jamie leaned forward, eyes riveted on her mouth. His tongue swirled over her lips licking the nectar from them savoring the taste of the strawberry and her. Her lips stained red were plump, sweet, and begging him to claim them.

“I would very much like to kiss you, Claire,” his eyes never wavering from her.

“I would like that very much,” Claire replied breathlessly.

Their lips met. His were soft, warm, with a hint of champagne. Hers were supple and sweet with a lingering taste of berry. Jamie's tongue quested across her lips seeking entry which Claire gave gladly. Their tongues met in a sweet caress, touching, stroking sending sparks and shivers through each of them. They broke apart resting forehead to forehead absorbing each other in through their breath.

“Turn around, I’ll wash yer back.”

Claire did as Jamie requested settling between his legs. Knees bent, Claire, rested her forehead on her thighs providing ample access to her back.

Jamie reached for the bath sponge. Soft and silky, he filled it with water adding the sweet-scented soap to create a rich creamy froth. He slowly began to massage Claire’s back, moving in circles working the foam into her skin. He lifted each arm, stroking up and down from shoulders to fingertips. Claire’s head rolled back falling against Jaime’s chest.

“Hmm, that feels so nice, Jamie.”

“Ye like it, a nighean? Why dinna ye rest yer back against my chest too?”

Claire willingly complied. Once more, Jamie loaded the sponge letting the soapy water trickle over her chest, between her breasts, and over her nipples. Slowly, unhurriedly, he brought the sponge down tracing a path down toward her belly. Claire made small mewling sounds deep in her throat.

“Move yer legs apart, lass. ”

The silkiness of the sponge contrasted with the pressure Jamie applied to her apex. Claire began to shift and writhe in time to Jamie’s movements. Her mouth opened breath becoming shallow. She began to whimper. Claire placed her hand over Jamie’s adding to the already delicious sensation he was creating. Her lips moved not making a sound. A curse perhaps, or was it a prayer in supplication?

“Ye like this, lass?”

Jamie’s arousal grew, the need for her surging.

“Yes.”

Claire began to squirm, twisting her body. She needed his mouth, needing to feel it against hers. She leaned in, their lips meeting giving him a soul-searing kiss, igniting a blaze of passion that threatened to devour them both

Jamie rose up with the water streaming off his chiseled body. He looked like Poseidon rising from the depths of the ocean.

“Mo ghràdh, I must have ye or die!”

Claire raised her arms up to him.

“Then have me.”

Jamie lifted Claire from the bath. She would be his Venus, nascent from the sea. Her arms were wrapped securely around his neck; her face buried in his chest. His strength supported her, cradling her against him. In two strides, he moved from the tub to the vanity countertop. While one arm supported Claire, the other swept the counter top clearing it of bottles, tubes, jars, and soaps sending them flying across the room. He had no care for the shamble he was creating, no attention to spend on it. His breathing was rapid and eyes now dark with lust. He placed Claire on the cool marble countertop nudging her legs apart. Jamie came closer settling between them. He needed to touch her. He ran his hand down the valley between her breasts, across her belly, and resting on her hip.

Ah Dhia, her skin is so smooth, so soft. It shimmers like a pearl newly pulled from the sea.

His hand dropped between her thighs wanting, needing to touch her. The tender flesh of her thighs opening wider inviting his fingers to roam over the satiny skin.

“Kiss me, Jamie.”

Jamie licked his lips, leaned in claiming her mouth.

Surrendering to the driving force of his kiss left her breathless, and wanting. An aching tension grew between them igniting the flames of their lust.

Jamie spied the mirror behind Claire. Dripping with condensation, he swiped at it clearing the steam obstructing his view of them. He could watch; he could see what he was doing to her. He didn’t think he could get any harder but the thought of watching made his cock so hard he didn’t think he could feel it anymore.

Leaning back on her arms, Claire spread herself wide in invitation. Jamie took his cock in hand and began to rub it against her sensitive tissue, making her moan. He placed himself at her entrance and in one swift motion slid home.

Claire gasped at the sudden intrusion into her body.

“God! Jamie!”

“Lie back a nighean. I want to love ye thoroughly.”

Claire complied. Taking her legs he placed them upon his shoulders. His thumb moved to the center of her arousal, stroking building sensations of molten waves of pleasure through her. Joining to her in their heated flesh, he moved sliding in and out of her, watching himself.

“Look in the mirror as I take ye. See how I love ye.”

Claire craned her head, looking into the mirror she saw the ecstasy and agony of pleasure and passion across Jamie’s face. Struggling to find purchase, her nails grasped vainly at the slick marble countertop.

“Help me up, Jamie! I want to see us.”

A large strong hand supported her back allowing her to sit up; the other pushed her head down. Legs widely spread Claire could see him take her, watching him thrust into her, possess her. They became one.

It became more than she could endure. This was the most erotic thing she had ever done, becoming both participant and spectator. Moaning loudly, her hips began to gyrate wildly. She could hear the thrum of her blood as it coursed through her body. She could no longer focus her arousal was complete. There was only pure sensation, pure pleasure.

“Jamie! I can’t...I...I… Oh, God Jamie!”

Claire’s nails raked down Jamie’s chest leaving angry red marks in their wake. She felt herself flood around him. Her climax shattering. Her Scot was not far behind.

“Claire! Oh, God! Claire!,”

Jamie shuddered spilling himself into her. He leaned forward biting her at the juncture of neck and shoulder. He trembled in the aftermath of their love. They clung to each other as they descended from the throes of their passion.

Jamie looked at Claire somewhat abashed. Helping her down from the countertop, he dampened a face cloth and offered it to her.

“Claire, I never...that is, I didn’t mean... Oh, Christ!”

Face flaming, he grabbed his robe and left the room; leaving Claire puzzled.

Have I done something wrong?

Claire straightened up the room, picking up the bits and pieces that had been unceremoniously thrown onto the floor. Putting on her robe, she arranged herself into some semblance of order and walked out into the room.

Jamie was standing with his hands in his pockets staring out the large window onto the street below.

Boston was trying to dig itself out. Sanitation trucks with large plows attempted to make the streets passable again. Merchants with shovels and snowblowers cleared their walkways from the mounds of snow. People slipped and slid on the sidewalk while others endeavored to walk around the piles of drifting snow with varying degrees of success.

Absorbed in his thoughts, Jamie saw none of it.

How could I treat her like this? What is wrong with me to use her in such a way? She must think me a beast or an animal. I don’t deserve her.

Disgusted with himself, Jamie hung his head in shame and embarrassment, unable to face Claire. So deeply lost in his thoughts he didn’t hear her enter the room.

“Jamie are you alright? Please tell me what’s wrong. Was it me? Was it not good? I’m sorry.”

Claire bit her lip nervously. Frank had always made her feel inadequate in bed. She did not want to disappoint Jamie. She couldn’t bear it.

Jamie turned to look at her with eyes wide in disbelief. His voice soft, halting,

“Claire, what are ye talking about? Ye did nothing wrong, lass. It was me.”

His shoulders slumped and he had difficulty maintaining eye contact.

“I’m the one who should be apologizing to ye for my behavior. Or lack of it.”

He continued gazing at a place in the distance that only he could see.

“I dinna want ye to think, I mean I dinna want ye to feel that I only want ye for…”

Jamie waved his hand vaguely in the direction of the bed.

“Jamie, I don’t know what you’re talking about. You did nothing wrong. Why should you apologize to me?”

“Claire, my Da taught me that women were to be respected, revered especially ah, in sex. He said that when ye love a woman, ye should pay tribute to her body as it is her right. I dishonored ye, lass. What I did was selfish. I have no claim on ye. I am no’ yer husband. I did not consider ye. And for that I must beg yer pardon.

Jamie began to pace about the room, restless running his hands through his hair. He turned facing Claire, “Christ do ye no’ ken how much I love ye? Ye are the air that I breathe, the blood of my heart. Without ye, I am naught but an empty shell. Your face is my heart mo ghràdh and the love of you is my soul.

“Ye see I want this, want us to be more. I want something we can build on, grow with. No’ just some magnificent weekend and then we part. That’s not good enough, Claire. Not for me and certainly not for ye. Ye deserve better.”

Jamie was stiff and rigid, fighting to control his emotions. He did not want to lose Claire because of one foolish mistake.

Claire was touched by his concern for her and her feelings. She walked around to face him, cupping his face in to get him to meet her eye. Jamie resisted.

“Look at me, please. You did nothing wrong. I wanted you to.”

Claire spoke softly and tenderly.

“You make me feel beautiful, sexy, desirable, loved, wanted, safe. How can these things be wrong?”

Jamie turned looking at her, a single tear running down his face.

“Do ye mean it, Claire? That’s how I make ye feel?”

Claire thumbed away the tear. Standing on tiptoes she leaned in and sweetly kissed him on the lips.

“Yes, and so much more. I love you, Jamie Fraser.”

Jamie sniffed, a crooked smile on his face

“And I you.”

He wrapped his arms around her pulling her close.

“Well, now that is all out of the way let’s have some of this delicious breakfast that you ordered for us.”

“Oh, and Jamie,” Claire said mischievously, “the next time you want to do it in front of a mirror, just make sure I can see your sweet arse in action, aye?”

A devilish grin played across her face as she turned and walked away leaving Jamie standing with his mouth agape.

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nadziejastar · 5 years

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Thoughts on the Power of Waking (Part 2)

Lea and Isa

Axel: Hey, Roxas. Bet you don't know why the sun sets red. You see, light is made up of lots of colors. And out of all those colors, red is the one that travels the farthest.

All the characters had their development ruined in KH3, but Lea and Isa’s subplot was handled the worst BY FAR. It’s really sad because it had the potential to be the most beautiful of them all, since their relationship was the most in need of a rebirth. I was very impressed with the amount of emotion Axel’s Japanese voice actor put into this scene about the sunset. Axel was clearly remembering his past when he was saying this to Roxas.

Mickey: There's something real strong that binds us to each other. Even in the darkness, you can reach him. All you gotta do is follow that connection!

Isa was lost in the darkness, but Lea’s light could reach him, since red light travels the farthest. And whaddaya know, Lea also got randomly knocked unconscious about the same time Ventus did, right before the Demon Tide swallowed everyone up. Well, that’s because Ventus and Lea were supposed to be using the power of waking on Terra and Isa.

Xemnas: The time has arrived. Look to the skies! There hangs the heart of all hearts--Kingdom Hearts--shining down on us at last. See the countless hearts that have gathered? Hearts full of rage...hate...sadness...and bliss. There, in the sky, hangs the promise of a new world. My friends! Remember why we have organized--all the things we hope to achieve. The strength of the human heart is vast. Soon, though...we will have gained power over it! Never again will it...have power over us.

Lea’s light was the sun. Isa’s light was the moon, but that light has been corrupted. Xemnas was using the moon’s light to have power over people’s hearts. And Isa was one of those people. Isa was NOT Saïx. That was the ENTIRE POINT of Lea’s character arc.

Chirithy: The edges of sleep and death touch, and one can’t help the occasional crossover. Something is holding you here---refusing to let you go. You’re hanging by a thread.

The power of waking is, at its core, the power to bring a person back to life. The edges of sleep and death touch. Isa did not need to atone. He needed to be resurrected.

Axel: So you don't need a heart to have something that you can't bear to lose then. If that's true, then I guess the closest thing that we Nobodies have would be memories of our past. You know, memories of the stuff we couldn't bear to lose, back when we couldn't bear to lose it.

Isa was originally written as a character who was extremely important to Lea. Axel cherished his memories of him more than anything else. He wanted to save him so badly it led to him summoning his Keyblade. He couldn’t bear to lose him. In Luxord’s deck, both The Sun and The Moon are shaped like the Four of Pentacles. This card shows a man desperately clinging to a coin, as if his life depended on it. It represents that you are holding onto something tightly and have an inability to let it go. This could be money, possessions, or relationships. It only makes sense that Isa was not present in Saïx. He was in the Final World. He was just barely clinging to the Realm of Light. He almost passed on to the other side for good. Lea was the only reason he didn’t.

Rabbit in the Moon Legend

Three immortals reincarnated themselves into three poor old people and begged for food from a fox, a monkey and a rabbit. The fox and monkey both gave food to the immortals. However, the rabbit did not have any food. It then said to the immortals: “you can eat me” and jumped into the fire. The immortals were so moved by the rabbit and sent it to the moon to become an immortal jade rabbit. Ever since, the Chinese jade rabbit stayed in the Moon Palace to accompany Chang’e and pounded immortal medicine for those living in heaven.

After it was decided that Lea would become a Guardian of Light, his entire character arc---from the ground up---revolved around ISA. That’s why both of their characters featured the themes of “immortality” and “rebirth”. That’s who Axel’s line about the red sunset was written for. Even the waning crescent on Isa’s jacket fits this theme. It’s the final phase of the moon, representing the end of a cycle, before a new one begins. The sun dies and is resurrected every morning. By taking the focus off of Isa, you totally RUIN Lea’s character development. No Isa, no character arc for Lea. Period. End of discussion.

The Phoenix Myth

The phoenix is a legendary bird mentioned in Greek, Roman, and Egyptian mythology. According to ancient writers, the phoenix lived for 500 years, then died and was reborn. It had brilliant golden and scarlet feathers and grew to the size of an eagle. Just before dying, the phoenix built a nest of fragrant herbs and spices, including cinnamon and myrrh. Then it burned itself on a funeral pyre ignited by the sun and fanned by its own wings. It then rises from the ashes with renewed youth to live through another cycle. The phoenix is associated with immortality and resurrection.

Isa was the one who Lea was supposed to be trying to save in KH3. Not Roxas. Not Xion. Not anybody else. ISA. That is the entire reason he was created. Roxas (Ventus) was going to be saved by Aqua. Lea needed someone to give HIS character arc emotional depth. The setup was SOOO perfect. These two characters---more than ANYONE else---had their entire relationship revolve around the power of waking. Nobody in their right mind would just throw all of this away on a whim to make them apprentices. No fucking way I can believe that. This was all thrown away because the story got botched beyond repair. I’m sure it broke Nomura’s heart.

Lea: I want everybody I meet to remember me. Inside people's memories, I can live forever.

Isa: I know I won't forget you. Believe me, I try all the time.

Lea: See, I'm immortal!

The Phoenix is a symbol of the Philosopher’s Stone. Many don’t realize that the creation of the Philosopher’s Stone is also represented by the union of the sun and moon. The White Stone actually becomes the Philosopher’s Stone when it turns red. Lea didn’t just need to be reborn. He needed to resurrect someone else, too. That red light needed to reach them and grant them new life and immortality.

Ansem the Wise: So many are still waiting for their new beginning, their birth by sleep. Even me...and even you.

The Moon represents “rest, retreat, anticipation, preparation, and dreams”. It really was too perfect for the Realm of Sleep, Final World, and power of waking subplot. If there was a single character who personified the idea of “birth by sleep,” it was Isa. No contest. Again, you would be out of your mind to throw this away and make him an apprentice.

Stage 1: Nigredo (Black)

Axel: Nothing lasts forever, man. Least of all for a bunch of Nobodies. But you know, we'll still have each other...even if things change and we can't do this anymore.

Roxas: Yeah?

Axel: As long as we remember each other, we'll never be apart. Got it memorized?

The Philosopher’s Stone is created in four stages. The first stage is death. That’s what Lea and Isa’s entire story was about. Their relationship DIED. The Recusant’s Sigil means “death” and “endings”. Lea happily said he wanted to live forever. But Axel sadly said that nothing lasts forever. And he had his friendship with Isa in mind when he said it.

Stage 2: Albedo (White)

Naminé: We don’t disappear… we’re only reborn.

Axel: I’m not like you and Roxas.

Naminé: But—but you…

Axel: It’s because I don’t have a heart. I don’t want to disappear, but I’m not upset or sad about it.

The red and white opposites have to undergo a greater separation before they can achieve their final union.

Saïx: He won nothing and is nothing. He couldn't stand the emptiness of being without a heart, and that led to his demise. He was foolish and weak.

Axel and Saïx’s relationship in KH2 was all about driving them as far apart as possible, so that when Lea and Isa eventually come together again, it would be that much more rewarding.

Stage 3: Citrinitas (Yellow)

Axel: Love is what happens if there's something really special between two people.

Roxas: You mean, like, if they're best friends?

Axel: Well, you can care about your friends, I guess, but that's not what I'm talking about.

Xemnas wanted the light of Kingdom Hearts to enslave people in darkness. Axel wanted the light of Kingdom Hearts to experience love. I absolutely think that Lea and Isa were envisioned as having romantic feelings for each other. And I definitely think Axel was speaking from personal experience here, because he was in love with Isa. This probably would have only been subtly hinted, and never overt. But the reconciliation between Lea and Isa was not supposed to so...casual, like it was in KH3. It was supposed to be magnificent and glorious, like the Phoenix rising from the ashes.

Stage 4: Rubedo (Red)

Roxas: You made us a promise.

Axel: I did?

Roxas: That you'd always be there...to bring us back.

Axel: Yeah...

Roxas: Got it memorized?

Axel: Best friends forever.

All the games leading to KH3 had Isa as the foundation of Lea’s character arc. BBS showed how their friendship was alive and thriving in the past. Re:CoM was when Axel’s sleeping memories started to awaken. Days showed how their relationship was dead, existing only in memory. KH3D showed Lea trying to resurrect it. Axel went out in a blaze of glory at the end of KH2 and was born again as Lea. As soon as he was reborn he went to look for Isa. He promised he’d always bring his friends back. Then out of nowhere, Isa became a total afterthought. That’s...not how humans operate.

A promise… We’ll meet again…in the next life. We did say that. I remember. I remember our promise.

I also think Lea made Isa another promise, which was to be the cornerstone of their shared subplot, which revolved around the themes of rebirth and immortality. The Phoenix symbolizes the liberation of the spirit. Isa’s heart was captured, and Lea needed to liberate it. His Keyblade was called “Flame Liberator”. Isa was waiting for Lea in the next life, in the Final World. But Lea couldn’t let him go, and brought him back to the Realm of Light. They kept their promise. Giving Isa a birth by sleep would have given Lea an incredible character arc. It greatly saddens me that he didn’t get that. Practically all the emotion was sucked out of his story. Lea is mostly remembered in KH3 for...breaking the fourth wall. That is a damn shame.

#kingdom hearts #KH #kh3 #kh lea #kh isa #kh isalea #kh akusai #kh axel #kh saix

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zephyra-in-the-house · 5 years

Text

A Wolf and a Leopard Walk Into A Store... Sounds Like the Start to a Bad Joke

Summary: Noanric is a continent known for its unique culture and freedom from most anything. The only problem is that the country is young and its rules fail to hold back the humans from trying to overthrow the demons. Without official protection, many demons are falling victim to experiments to decrease their power and influence from the world. In the midst of this place, Vanoss and his pack are asked by the country’s leader to liberate a group of demons from a human laboratory close to their territory. However, Vanoss has been warned of a loophole among this chaos. Can he lead his pack to safety and discover the blue demon from the prophecy? Or will he suffer the consequences of a past long forgotten?

Hello Tumblr! It is I, you’re provider, your liberator from school, your friend and your author for this fanfic~ My name is Zephyra. What you’re seeing here is a work in progress and I have been uploading chapters for this story since July of last year on Archive and Wattpad. So far, I’ve already gotten through 14 chapters and, as I have it planned out now, there should be 55 chapters by the time I’m done. It will take a while, so I hope you guys are in for the long haul. Enjoy!

Notes for this chapter: This is the first time I have posted any of my writing. This is not the first story or fanfic that I’ve written, but it’s the first one I’ve made public. For the past nine years, I’ve been writing several books that I created and the universe I’m using for this fanfiction is based in that Original Universe. With that being said, there are different rules for some things in this story that I will have to explain before each chapter wherever the rules apply.

I do have a random upload schedule. My writing habits are flawed to say the least, but summer is coming up, so hopefully I’ll have more time to write longer and better chapters. I try to get out a chapter every two weeks, but my readers from other websites know that I haven’t been maintaining that schedule since the beginning of this year.

I encourage positive criticism and I would love to hear back on things that I could improve on or mistakes that I make.

This picture is my design for the Ev-Meister, the one and only VanossGaming. I do my own art and I will try to have cover photos for each chapter.

Thank you to the people who have chosen this fic. Be prepared for the long haul because This Is Gonna Take A While~

Enjoy!

Chapter 1

Next Chapter: Chapter 2

Most Recent Chapter: Chapter 3

Vanoss’ Perspective:

The stars danced in entrancing circles across the sky as I slipped through the shadows of the night. I paused for a moment, staring up at them as they blinked at me.

Around me, the forest shimmered to life. Shadows clung to every mossy rock and leaf. The slow breeze thrumming through the undergrowth sent shivers down my spine, making my fur puff out just a little more. The itch under my skin for dense rainforests and humid climates was tempered by the sounds of the night murmuring against my ears.

It was springtime in Noanric and, thus, still cold from the previous winter, especially where we lived.

Stretched from the northern tip of the world down to the hottest areas at the equator, there existed a continent known as Noanric. My pack and I lived somewhere in the middle where the trees were nothing but cotton or pine and the winters were sometimes long and harsh. Personally, the cold climate was the only regrettable part of settling down in this area. It was also the only compromise that everyone in the pack could make though.

Despite most of the pack members being from the feline family, all of us had grown up in different environments. Each of us preferred something different for a place to settle in, whether it was hot, humid climates or damp rainforests. Eventually, we stumbled across the territory we lived in now and it suited many of everyone's requirements.

Back when we all first met, having so many diverse people in the pack had caused a lot of arguments. On top of that, my alpha subgender caused a lot of authoritative issues, especially after I claimed the other two alphas, Marcel and Tyler. For a while, I was almost convinced that none of us could get along enough to be in a pack.

However, since finding our new home three years ago, it was a rarity to find a pack member in a bad mood. Of course, arguments weren’t avoidable all the time. Sometimes, fights broke out. Trying to smooth out disputes was probably the most stressful part of my job as leader.

I had always wanted to be a part of a pack, but I never saw myself at the head of it. For the longest time, I had even ignored the the itch for companionship that always crawled under my skin. Somehow though, I ended up being pack leader. Ever since then, I'd been even more anxious to serve my pack members to the best of my abilities. Yet, the stress still sometimes got to me.

Occasionally, for reasons like this, being the leader got a bit overwhelming. Then again, too much social interaction never failed to exhaust me. It didn’t help that both of my preferred animal forms were solitary creatures.

Luckily, because my pack was mostly feline, they were also solitary people. None of them minded it too terribly when I took these moments to step out and recharge my social batteries.

A sigh escaped me as my gaze wandered from the stars in the sky above to the trees as another gust of wind passed through my fur. I hummed softly when I felt the animal in me wake up the longer I stayed in my shifted form.

That night, I sported the fur of a black panther- A.K.A. a melanistic leopard. Normally, my fur was spotted and striped like any other leopards, but I changed it occasionally to suit my needs.

Not everyone could do this, mind you. I’d only ever met one other shapeshifter like me in my life, and he couldn’t do half the stuff I could.

Even though I knew I could shift into anything I wanted and make it any color I felt was the most appealing, I rarely used this ability. For the most part, I limited myself to my leopard form and, occasionally, my owl form. Other than that, I had no use for my shapeshifting abilities for anything besides races.

That night was one of the only exceptions I made to my rule though. Being able to blend in with the shadows of the night came in handy when I didn’t want to be caught by anyone happening to take a midnight stroll like me.

When I left the house, I had no real goal as to where I was going in mind. The only thing I wanted to do was to get away. Apparently, my subconscious had other ideas which I didn’t recognize until I glanced around to spot a familiar tree with gnarled roots nearby.

With a smile, I lifted my head to scent the air.

As I suspected, the first thing I picked up was the scent of the river that made up the eastern border of our territory. A thrill of amusement raced through me as I angled towards the smell and increased my pace to a light trot. Somewhere, I knew the scent would lead me to my favorite part of the river. The waterfall.

The sound of it hit me before the view did. As soon as I broke through the tree line, I was greeted by a blast of mist. It was one of the most welcome feelings I had that night, despite the air around me dropping several degrees. The cold atmosphere only grew colder as I paced forward to admire the scene laid out before me.

Just a few feet away from the treeline, the ground dropped away off the face of a cliff. Rivulets of water from the river rushed over the edge of the precipice and plummeted down to the pit below. From my vantage point, the waterfall seemed almost never ending. The sound of it was so immense that I couldn’t even hear my own breath over its roars. Even the ground below me trembled at its presence.

Below me, the cliff dropped down to a pit of water thirty feet down. The top of the waterfall sat several feet away, formed into a half circle, spitting water over its edge with torrential force. The rocky edges of the cliff stuck out in some places which created miniature waterfalls against the main stream of gushing water.

This part of the river and further down where the river meandered into our territory were my favorite spots to hang out, especially when I needed to be reminded of just how amazing life can be.

The waterfall felt so terrifyingly vast that I simply sat in awe for a moment. A waterfall can take a person and dash them to pieces in all the worst ways possible. Yet, they can be so magnificent in all their power.

The power vibrating through the ground was almost a comfort for me and, for once, I felt smaller than usual. For a moment, I wasn’t anything special or different. For once, there was something in the world with a power as terrifying as mine.

A low growl rumbled through my chest as these thoughts crossed my mind. I shoved them away instinctively.

Without thinking about it, I backed up to the tree line before launching myself across the stretch of open grass between me and the cliff. In one powerful motion, I flung myself off the cliff edge and plummeted towards the pit below.

The plunge was unlike any other thing in the world. It reminded me of a hurricane or a hail storm. The mist from the waterfall slapped me in the face as I plunged downward, my tail streaming out behind me.

It felt like I fell forever. There was so much adrenaline in my veins that it made those moments spent dropping to the water below stretch into unfathomable lengths of time. I had gone cliff jumping here many times before, but I was still taken by surprise when my body hit the water and the air was knocked out of me. The fact that the water was probably only 50°F didn’t help.

After a moment spent speeding through the water like a missile, I felt my front paws brush the bottom of the pit followed by the rest of my body. I stayed on the muddy floor for a moment before pushing off and propelling myself upwards. By the time my head broke the surface, the current of the waterfall had already pushed me out a ways away from where I had jumped.

The ground wasn’t too far down near shore, so I could easily touch. However, instead of getting out of the water, I paddled back out into the pool, relishing in the water tugging against my fur. It was still somewhat cold but, between being acclimatized to the temperature and the nature of my body heat, it didn’t bother me.

If Brian or Brock were around, they would look at me like I was crazy. Of course, their werecat forms had thick shaggy fur which dragged them down in the water so it was understandable that they didn’t like being in it for too long.

After a while, a cold breeze swept across the water, chilling the top of my head. I took that as my signal to get out.

With reluctance, I swam to shore on our side of the territory and pulled myself from the water’s clutches. I couldn’t stay in the water all night. Eventually, I had to return home and face my responsibilities.

Shaking myself, I sat down on the river shore and looked up at the sky once more. Above me, the stars continued their watchful gaze over me and a full moon glowed over the treetops. The sight made me smile. These were the nights that I enjoyed the most.

You could enjoy it more if you were actually doing your job. A voice whispered in the back of my mind.

I frowned and twisted around to clean a wet patch of fur on my back.

I’m just enjoying myself while I still have the chance. I argued.

The world rippled around me as another gust of wind spread through the trees and the grass.

Normally, I loved the wind and its playfulness. After jumping into the water in the middle of spring though, the wind was not as welcome as usual.

With a shiver, I stood and walked away from the river’s edge to a giant boulder on the shore. This particular boulder sat like a huge chair which faced the border of our territory on the other side of the river. In the middle of it, a perfect bowl had been carved out. It was just big enough for me to curl up in with room to spare.

Shaking myself off one more time, I jumped up and settled into the rock to clean myself.

Personally, I appreciated the position of the rock since it meant that I could watch what happened on the other side of the border while also being comfortable. My pack and I were the only ones who could see what lay on the other side of the river. Anyone on the opposite side couldn’t see us. In this sense, the barrier resembled a one way mirror.

The entire territory was designed like this. When we decided to call this place home, our physical boundaries were overlaid with tons of complex spells. These spells made them unaware of a mountain, or a river, or a waterfall just on the other side of the border. If they were careless, they could plummet to their death.

On top of that, if someone survived a fall, there laid a spell that incapacitated any human or demon that came across our borders. This spell could encompass a person’s mind, restricting them until they became delusional or incredibly weak, or it could attack a person's nervous system and paralyze them. The person would then fall into a coma-like state, at which point we simply had to carry them back out of the territory. Only pack members, along with some roguish friends, were immune to these spells.

There was only one spot that had no physical advantage on the other side of its border. It lay further north of the river. Originally, it was a hill, but we blew it out years ago to make a road for our vehicles.

For the most part, the pack used their animal forms to get around. However, when we went shopping or needed to blend in with the humans in town, we usually took one of the six cars that we owned. It was an expensive venture to keep so many vehicles but, sometimes, having that much transportation back and forth is necessary.

Despite having no physical advantages, the road exiting our territory was protected by our most advanced spells, some of which could immobilize any demon within seconds. No matter what, every part of our territory was protected in some way, shape, or form.

Lui, Marcel, and Nogla had derived all of the spells we used from older spells they knew. Every spell was a modified version of something much older than us and we designed them to suit our needs.

For this reason and many others, I held a great deal of pride for my pack. They were all ingenious in their own unique ways.

All the more reason for them to be protected. The voice from earlier whispered again. I recognized the presence of the animal within me, his alpha instincts coming out to play.

“I can protect them just as well by myself. Whatever she has to say is most likely irrelevant to their safety.” I growled back at the beast.

The leopard bared his fangs at me and began pacing back and forth, his heavy footsteps echoing through the confines of my mind.

You won’t know if it’s relevant until you talk to her. He argued. I shook my head and laid down on the rock below me.

The leopard had a point. Instead of swimming around in the water all night, I should’ve been at my meeting, confronting my responsibilities head on.

I didn’t want to though. The letter I received earlier in the week had me on edge. The way the whole thing was worded made me anxious. Their was something very important that would be discussed in the meeting that night, but I wasn’t sure what it was.

That was part of the reason why I decided to take a walk. I was avoiding my meeting with her until the last possible second. Plus, I knew that I wouldn’t have nearly as much free time after I talked to her.

Your responsibility is to your pack. The leopard murmured, his voice softening with sympathy. Situations where they are concerned take priority over your “personal time”.

I knew he was right. Deep down, I knew I was responsible for the pack and that my meeting could have everything to do with them. I had to go back.

With a frustrated growl, I stood and gave myself a rough shake before jumping off my boulder and heading back into the forest. Luckily, I didn’t have to worry about being seen with fluorescent markings, like Marcel’s stripes, as I made my way through the undergrowth.

As if the simple thought had summoned him, the wind shifted to drag a familiar scent across my nose. The barrier behind me almost seemed to flex inwards, signaling the passage of someone through our borders. I stopped and waited as some rustling off to my left kicked up.

A moment later, a stocky white tiger came stalking out of the shadows. His fluorescent green and purple stripes slowly pulsed back to life to fill in the black in his pelt. His orange eyes were such a contradiction to his overall color scheme that I felt mildly surprised, as usual, when they too flashed in the darkness of the night.

“What’re you doing out here Evan?” The tiger asked quietly, his body slowly releasing itself from the shadows.

“Thinking.” I answered simply. The feline narrowed his eyes at me, his ears twitching with curiosity.

“So, the honorable leader needs some alone time to think about how important his job is. What a surprise.” He purred, his actions exuding intense amounts of sarcasm.

I scoffed and shook my head. “What are you doing out here Marcel?”

There was a slight variation in the pulse of Marcel’s stripes but his expression remained neutral. “I was looking for you, o great lafaino.”

The tiger lowered himself to the ground in a dramatic bow. I couldn't help but roll my eyes, my attention briefly catching on the shadowy bushes surrounding us as they fluttered.

“You were looking for me." I mused as a thought occurred to me. The tiger raised himself up and met my gaze levelly. "On the other side of the border?”

Marcel flashed his fangs at me in an animalistic smile. “Mini told me you might have been trying to find some tail out there.”

I snorted and flicked my ears at him. “There’s tons of food already in our territory.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” The tiger huffed.

I rolled my eyes and walked past him, into the woods. His tail flicked my shoulder lightly as I passed.

“That’s exactly why I answered the way I did.”

Marcel simply chuckled and followed me as I headed back to the house.

Marcel was an interesting person- like most everyone else in the pack. I was fairly convinced that the tattoos on his arms were some symbol of royalty somewhere along the tiger bloodline. No matter how many times I asked though, he wouldn’t tell me what tribe he came from or if my suspicions were correct.

Marcel came to the pack years ago, accompanied by Scotty, in search of people who were “like him”- whatever that meant. The tiger had an interesting sense of humor and a thrilling laugh that left people feeling giddy. Sometimes, he had a different way of speaking, but almost every single person in the pack had a slight variation of speech or an accent to their words. No two of us were alike.

Marcel and Tyler both came to me in the search of being understood. The only unfortunate part about them joining my pack was that, because they were both alphas, they tended to challenge my authority more often than the others. Luckily, they complied in letting me be the leader of the group but I knew that, if they wanted, either of them could easily try to dethrone me.

I still enjoyed their company though. No matter what, everyone who had come to me and joined my pack or simply stopped by to say hi as friends was appreciated.

Smii7y, along with his mate, Kryoz, was one of those few random friends that stopped by every once in a while. Sincw they were our friends, our spells didn't affect them. I didn't know them all that well, but Mini and Panda spent a lot of time at their cabin just outside our borders. At least, they did whenever the two rogues weren't out of town on a mission.

The main group, Mini, Wildcat, Terroriser, Moo, Lui, Nogla, Marcel, Scotty, Panda, and I, stayed on the territory for longer periods of time. Some of the others took moments of alone time like I did, but we all lived in the same two story white house in the middle of our large chunk of land.

Seventy miles east of our territory lay the human city, Panlyog. It wasn’t my favorite place to be and most of the others agreed with me about that, so we kept to ourselves unless we needed something from the humans.

I was mulling over the plans to make a trip into Panlyog the next day when the wind shifted and Marcel’s scent hit me full force. Normally, I didn’t mind, but there was an ever so slight variation in it that night. I couldn’t quite put a claw on what that variation was, but it was definitely different in an unsettling sort of way.

I watched the powerful tiger carefully as he prowled through the undergrowth beside me. He was too busy scenting the air around us to notice my curiosity. Chalking it up to a flaw in my sense of smell, I shrugged off my intrigue as we continued towards the house.

Our house wasn’t hard to miss if you knew what you were looking for. It stood on a hill, pearly white, two stories above the ground and a basement stuck halfway into the hill. The only thing that stopped it from sticking out like a sore thumb was the thick copes of trees surrounding it in a 10 foot radius and the giant canopy of branches overhead. The trees were so thick in the area that no creature had ever attempted getting through it. Even the roof of the house was designed to look like the ground to avoid aerial attacks.

The only way in and out of the ring around the house was to go through secret passageways built into the bushes surrounding the area. The white building was our perfect escape, especially with Nogla’s collection of flowers planted all around the edges.

Marcel and I wove our way through the bushes and into the clearing beyond. I glanced around briefly, my eyes catching on a light in a window on the second floor and another coming from downstairs. The second light was too dim to be from the living room, so I assumed it came from either the kitchen or the TV.

As Marcel and I approached, one of the flood lights on the front porch turned on, revealing a wooden platform with three steps leading up to it. The porch stuck out a few feet from the front of the house with a table and several chairs sitting on top of it. Around it, several bushes and flowers of varying colors appeared.

Once we reached the top of the steps, Marcel and I began transforming back into our human forms. My transformation was easy because of my shifter genes, but Marcel took his time to rearrange his body.

For shapeshifters, transforming in a “puff of smoke” is the best description for a our transformations. Shifting is, for the most part, swift and painless for most shifters. Hence the name. Not everybody had it so easy though.

It didn’t matter how skilled or fierce a demon was. Almost every one of them had some difficulty with shifting. Some people couldn't shift fast without experiencing pain and others couldn't physically force a shift.

Whatever their reasoning, I didn’t find slow shifting very appealing, especially after listening to Marcel’s bones break, scrape, pop, and crack back into place for about thirty seconds.

“Ya done?” I asked with mock impatience as Marcel finished.

He rolled his eyes at me and chuffed lightly with his remaining tiger-like vocal chords. “Show off.”

As soon as we walked in the front door, the sweet smell of beta wafted over my nose. Marcel and I followed the scent through the open area inside the front door into the kitchen. There, we found Mini leaning against the stove with a cup of water in his hands. His blue-gray eyes lifted as we walked in.

“Hi Mini!” Marcel called to him softly.

Mini smiled and responded in kind but with more exaggeration on the quietness. After all, it was one in the morning and nobody likes being woken up in the middle of the night.

Marcel cupped a hand around his mouth and mock whispered, “How are you?”

Mini copied him with a smile. “I’m fine. How are you Marcel?”

“I’m good.”

“That’s good.” The two of them laughed before Mini’s attention shifted to me and he smiled anew.

“How’s the leader tonight?” He beamed while still keeping his voice low.

I hesitated for a split second. It was an innocent question, but Mini’s beta scent meddled with my head.

My first thought was to tell him the truth. I didn’t want to come home and go to sleep. I didn’t want go to my meeting. I didn’t want her in my head and, most of all, I didn’t want to take this mission. Everything that was about to happen gave me an awful sense of foreboding.

I wanted to tell Mini all of this. What I didn’t want to do was explain myself in front of Marcel though. Call it a superiority complex or an alpha’s complex, but showing weakness to another alpha didn’t quite sit right with me.

So, after a split second of hesitation, I responded with, “I’m good. How are you?”

“I’m good,” Mini replied, his eyes narrowing slightly.

When I didn’t respond with another “that’s good”, Mini raised an eyebrow and looked at me out of the corner of his eye. Marcel plowed on without noticing my internal crisis.

Fortunately, the tiger wasn’t really in the mood to give us a play-by-play about his adventures outside of the territory. Instead, he told Mini that it was quiet and that he hadn’t found anything interesting before giving us a tired wave and casting a “good night” over his shoulder as he walked away.

Mini and I responded in kind and watched the alpha walk up the stairs. As soon as the tiger was out of earshot, Mini turned an inquiring eye to me.

I sighed and sat down at the island in the middle of the kitchen. “I can’t sleep at night. You know that.”

The beta across from me slowly nodded before rolling his eyes. “Strange. I was hoping to finally hear about this piece of tail you’ve been seeing.”

I briefly glared up at him before turning my gaze down to my hands. “You know that if that was true, I would tell you or Moo.”

At times like this, I felt bad for my two betas. They both wanted me to find someone to spend my time with and date, but I couldn’t give that to them. The people in my pack were too much like brothers and dating humans was forbidden by law in Panlyog. All of my options were sort of closed and everyone in the pack knew it, especially Mini and Moo.

As betas, it was their job to look after my mental health. Betas are responsible for the mental and physical health of everyone in the pack. That’s why they are better at molecular regeneration and have a particular resistance to the illusions of their pack’s minds.

I knew it was harmful for my alpha within me to spend so much time alone, even if I was surrounded by pack members most of the time. It was uncommon for a subgender voice to be as strong as mine. It just so happened to be even more uncommon that someone who had an unstable alpha like mine was ever put into a position of leadership. Having so many conflicting thoughts and instincts was dangerous for me.

On one hand, I wanted to protect my pack. On the other, I wanted to find someone who could temper my demons. So far, I was having no luck with either option and that was bad news for Moo and Mini.

“I’m sorry.” I murmured, looking up into Mini’s face. He gave me a solemn smile and sighed.

“Don’t be. You’ll find someone. We have faith in you. We always do.” Mini responded easily, as he had done many times before.

I gave him a small smile before staring back down at the counter top. After a moment, a cup of water was suddenly placed in front of me. I hadn’t even noticed the faucet being turned on. Ignoring this fact, I murmured a quiet thanks before taking a sip.

“I don’t want to go to sleep tonight.” I admitted reluctantly.

There was a moment of silence before Mini coughed. I reminded myself to add cold medicine to the shopping list for Panlyog the next day.

“Why is that?” He asked in a slightly strained voice.

I reached up with my hand to squeeze the bridge of my nose. “I’m supposed to have a meeting with Ms. Evelynn tonight.”

There was a flash of surprise on Mini’s face. To his credit, it only lasted a few seconds before his face went back to a generally neutral expression.

After a moment, the beta nodded and took a drink of his own glass of water.

“Let me get this straight…” He folded his hands together before gesturing at me and raising an eyebrow. “You are purposely avoiding a talk with the one and only Zephyra Evelynn?”

I couldn’t help but give the beta a tired smile as he spoke.

“Somehow, you seem to think that that will go without consequence?”

I sucked in a breath to argue but stopped halfway through when I realized that he was right.

“Of course there’ll be consequences.”

Mini made a “duh” face and gave me wide eyes. “Ya think?”

I shook my head and ran a hand through my hair. “I just know that she’s going to give me some problem that I’ll have to figure out how to fix.”

“Oh right. I forgot. Responsibilities. Your worst nightmare.” Mini mocked sarcastically.

I glared half-heartedly up at him before making a face. He wasn’t wrong…

“Obviously. But she keeps coming back. This time though, I get the feeling that this case is bigger than usual.“

Zephyra Evelynn was the Kafaira, the continental leader, of Noanric. As the title suggests, the entire continent was subject to her jurisdiction.

Since she had such a large responsibility, Zephyra never traveled long distances. Instead, she set up meetings in letters and visited people in their dreams in order to share messages. That was one of the many unfortunate things about meeting her.

Meeting Zephyra in my dreams meant that she had access to my subconscious mind; in which case, it didn’t really matter whether or not I tried to hide any of my thoughts from her. She could hear everything I thought when she visited me. The only thing she couldn’t see was my memories, which is something I was always grateful for. No matter what happened, the powerful Demon-Wolf never failed to put me on edge.

Mini sighed and gave me a sympathetic look. “I understand why you’re avoiding it. Still, you shouldn’t shirk your responsibilities.” The beta sighed, giving me a sympathetic look before his expression turned sour. ��Plus, you more than anyone should know that your actions have repercussions, especially with someone as powerful as Zephyra.”

Part of me winced at Mini’s implications, but the other part of me knew he was right in fearing Zephyra.

There was a common misconception about Zephyra throughout, not just the continent, but the entire world. Most people heard tales of her power and her incredible military feats as well as her political prowess and they immediately assumed that she was an all-powerful being that held the world in her paws.

Personally, I knew Zephyra wasn’t as scary as everyone made her out to be. Perhaps that came as a result of actually seeing her outside of the paintings and fairy tales though.

“Yeah, well, at least I can choose the time that we meet. I could stay up for days and avoid the meeting if I wanted to.” I muttered as I chugged what was left of my glass of water. Mini rolled his eyes.

“You’re such a child.”

“Yeah and you’re a man baby. That’s right. I just owned you.” I leaned back in my chair with a playful expression as Mini shook his head.

Smiling, the beta stood to take my empty glass and walked back to the sink. I scooted my chair out with a small hint of reluctance and followed him.

All jokes aside, I was still a little agitated, not only because of my meeting with Zephyra, but because I was reminded of domestic problems with my pack.

Mini was hiding something from me. He had been for months now, both him and Wildcat. I could feel that there was something wrong between them, but neither of them would talk to me about it. That secret was the only reason Mini would be up so late with such a tainted quality to his scent, and it was the reason he was sick at the moment.

I huffed a sigh and stuffed my hands in my pockets. “I can’t avoid it forever though. So, I might as well be a ‘responsible’ leader and go to bed.”

“That’s probably a good idea.” Mini chuckled as he turned around to face me.

I smiled before reaching out an arm, waiting for the traditional warmth. As usual, Mini endorsed me in a short side-hug. I considered scent marking him but decided against it. Tyler would be pissed if I tried that and, after tonight, I was pretty sure I wouldn’t have the energy to tease him in the morning.

“Get some sleep.” Mini murmured as we released each other. I shook my head and smiled.

“I doubt that’ll happen for me. That doesn’t mean it shouldn’t happen for you though.” I responded with a significant look at the beta.

He nodded and ducked his head. “I know. I’ll try.”

“Good night Mini.” I called as I turned to go upstairs.

“Good night Evan.” Mini responded as I walked away.

At the top of the stairs, there was a large open room that we used as a secondary sitting/study area. There were couches, TVs, and five desks crammed into the small space. On the left side of the stairs lay five rooms- each of which belonged to Wildcat, Mini, Basically, Panda, and Scotty- and a storage closet for blankets and sheets. The right side contained another five rooms- each of which belonged to me, Lui, Nogla, Terroriser, and Moo- along with the upstairs bathroom. All the alphas stayed closest to the staircase as a safety precaution. Therefore, I didn’t have to walk far to get to my room.

As soon as I opened the door, I was met with a sweet vanilla scent. I looked over at the desk on the right side of the room to see a tiny flame waving at me from the confines of the glass around the candle.

Moo must have visited. I thought to myself. With a smile, I glanced down the hallway to where his room sat. He knew me too well.

With a satisfied hum, I stepped inside and quietly closed my door. It was dark in my room, but I had no trouble navigating my way through the darkness despite the piles of messes all over my floor.

With careful steps, I walked over to the candle and gently blew it out before going over to my bed and flopping down. Admittedly, I was exhausted, so it was no surprise when I passed out almost immediately.

Notes:

I hope you guys enjoyed. I know there’s not a lot of plot related stuff right now but it definitely picks up speed here soon. This chapter and the next are mainly here to set the scene and do a bit of world building so, after that, it gets easier to read.

I need to explain a few things here. Firstly, most every demon has two seperate entities that live inside their head. They have the human side, split into a conscious and a subconscious, and the demon side. The demon side is pure instinct, containing every fight or flight response and all a person’s skill in everything related to survival. The human side is the rational side. Generally, the demon is less dominant and bows to the human in most cases. However, people who have anomalies in their instincts (i.e. subgenders or half breeds) tend to have a demon side that is equally as powerful, if not more powerful, than the human counterpart and that can sometimes be an issue. This is a common problem with subgenders because of the nature of how they were created, which I’ll explain at a later date.

In accordance to the dialogue that has quotations around italic marks, like whenever Marcel and Evan are talking in their animal form: I write these scenes like this because, when demons are in their animal forms, they don’t have a spoken language like humans. Their “speech” is actually a mixture of body language and sounds made in their throats (grunts, chuffs, and sometimes clicking of the tongue or teeth).

There are also two “need-to-know” terms which are: Kafaira and Lafaino. The first of these terms is simply a label for all continental leaders, of which there are seven in total according to each continent. The second refers to pack/tribe/clan leaders. The “o” and the “a” are relative to gender, just like certain words in Spanish. If either of the terms ends in “o”, it means the person is male. If it ends in an “a”, it means the person is female. There is also a third ending which is “e” for those who are genderless or both genders.

Thank you for reading <3

#bbs squad #terrormoo #minicat #switching pov #this is gonna take a while #fanfiction #mild krii7y #eventual ohmtoonz #eventual h2ovanoss #plot #so much plot #good luck #this is gonna be intersting #awaal #alternate universe

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