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the-broken-truth · 6 months

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Broken-Style Remix: No Peace For A Peace God

Broken: Hello, Everyone! My friend - @anxiousnerdwritings - allowed me to make a small snippet they created about a Minor God of Peace Reader leaving the Patheon they were in to live their immortal life in the mortal world; however, coming in contact with Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman and the Amazons makes that rather difficult. Let's see how everything goes. Let the words weave together!

Note: [Name] is a Minor God of Peace in the Greek Patheon; I chose Greek because the Amazons have ties to the Greek Patheon. This one-shot will be told from a first-person perspective.

Based on my observations, it seems that people eagerly anticipate the point in their lives when they no longer have to work. They view it as a time when they can live off the money they've saved over the years or the pension they receive from the government. Sometimes, I wonder what my life would have been like if I were a human being, attending school, getting a job, starting a family, and growing old before passing away and potentially being reincarnated to start anew.

Alas, fate did not wish that kind of life for me; thus, I was given the life of an immortal, even if my former role in the patheon was not are important as others were.

I am [Name], a Minor God/Goddess and the God/Goddess of Peace in the Greek Divine Pantheon. However, I must clarify that the rightful title of Goddess of Peace belongs to Lady Eirene. Though I am a Minor God/Goddess, I possess some powers similar to Lady Eirene's, but not on the same scale as hers. I can bring about peaceful solutions amongst mortals in small groups, such as villages and some of the other minor gods who reside on Mount Olympus. Lady Eirene, on the other hand, is responsible for maintaining peaceful relations between full-blown towns and councils with Olympus' Elite Gods. Although we both perform our duties well, Lady Eirene's name is more well-known and overshadows mine. As a result, I rarely receive offerings and prayers, and although I know I shouldn't be upset about it, it sometimes hurts my feelings.

As time passed, I began observing humanity closely and grew curious about their way of life. I even found myself envious of them. I considered leaving Olympus and living my immortal life among mortals, but my duties as a divine being held me back. I thought I still had a place among the gods and goddesses of Olympus, so I stayed.

One day, Lord Zeus invited all the minor and major gods and goddesses from other realms to a party on Mount Olympus. I arrived just before the party started, but was stopped by Lord Ares and Lord Zeus before I could enter the Great Hall. They told me that I could come to the party, but I argued that I was also of divine origin and therefore should be allowed in as well. Lady Eirene appeared, sensing the tension, but instead of vouching for me as a fellow god of peace, she told me that I shouldn't consider myself a god or goddess since I rarely received any offerings or prayers. She told me to leave Mount Olympus since the night was for the "true gods". That was the last straw for me.

I told them that I would no longer listen to them and that I wouldn't be tied to them by my divine blood. I abandoned Olympus and my fellow gods and goddesses at that moment and descended to the mortal realm. From that day on, I would live the remainder of my immortal life as a mortal. I was finally free.

Although I have lived for centuries, I appear to be only 18 years old. During my long life, I have accumulated a vast collection of gems and treasures. With the aim of starting my life anew, I decided to sell a small portion of them and make a decent amount of money. I took my collection to an appraiser, who gave me a fair price. Since I didn't want to stay in Greece any longer, I used the money to purchase a ticket for the first boat out of the country.

Destination?

A place known as Gotham City.

The boat ride from Gotham was long but that gave me all the time I needed to make the proper plans I needed to start my life over: I would use my power to give myself citizenship by creating the necessary documents such as a birth certificate and social security number. Next, I would find a decent place to live before finding a job; I may have the funds I need to live on, but I still need a life for myself. I made a mental note to purchase a device known as a 'cell phone';; a passenger on the boat was watching something 'videos' on a social platform known as 'YouTube'. I was going to need this strange device and knowledge of these social media platforms if I truly wanted to be a human.

I acquired a cell phone and started searching for apartment listings in my area. I found a decent 2-bedroom unit with a bathroom, living room, dining room, kitchen, and a balcony. I contacted the realtor and he was eager to show me the apartment the same day. We agreed to meet at a local cafe that was currently hiring for a barista and baker, as it was located right down the street from the apartment. Before the realtor arrived, I managed to pick up an application from the hiring manager. We then walked to the apartment, which was rather nice with dark wooden floors in the living and dining rooms, tiled floors in the kitchen and bathroom, and carpet in the bedrooms. The rent and deposit were reasonable, and the realtor had the paperwork with him. He told me that if I signed it, I could move in the same day. I had a look at the leasing contract to ensure that there were no hidden terms, and upon finding nothing, I asked a few questions with the recording app on my phone to use as evidence in case the realtor tried anything suspicious later. After signing the paperwork, I received the keys to the apartment and mailbox. The realtor informed me that I would receive a copy of the lease in the mail, and then left me alone in my new apartment.

A week later, I returned to the cafe with the filled-out application for the barista and baker positions; after a test to prove I would be capable of handling the tasks under pressure - there wasn't really any pressure since I used my aura to keep everyone calm and acting decent and in order - I was given the job.

It would be another month when my mortal life started shifting in another direction upon meeting Bruce Wayne.

I was working the morning shift when a well-dressed male with piercing blue eyes walked into the cafe and walked over to the counter; there was no line since I already handled it an hour ago. He ordered a dark coffee and a strawberry cheesecake muffin before he took a seat in the booth; there was something about him that radiated sadness. He continued working on his laptop for about 2 hours, long since finishing his coffee and muffin; I made him another coffee, warmed up another muffin, and placed them before him, causing him to look at me with confusion in his eyes, I smiled at him.

"You seem like you are under a lot of stress, these are on the house." I said before walking away. Just then, the door burst open and 3 masked figures barged in with guns, causing everyone to scream in fear while cowering in their chairs but I refused to move from where I was standing. The leader of the group pointed his gun in my face but I looked calmly down the barrel before lifting my hand and moving the gun away before looking into his eyes - into his soul - and his secrets were revealed to me; he was doing this out of desperation.

"Do you think that she would want you to do this?" I asked, causing him to look at me confused, "I know that you are not doing this because of malice in your heart. I know that you are shaking in your soul with fear and anxiety. You want to be a good son and save the woman who gave you everything but this is not the way to do that."

"Then, what can I do? What other option do I have?" He whimpered at me. I reached into my pocket, pulled out a small ruby, and held it out to him before placing it in his palm.

"This is a Burmese Ruby. A Ruby of this size should be worth around $20,000; that should be more than enough to pay for her treatment and aid you in what else you need for a while. Please, never resort to this again; there is always a better way. Do you swear this?" I asked. He looked at the ruby, closed it in his fist, and sobbed before hugging me for a few moments and leaving with the other masked them. Everyone watched me for a while as I walked back around the counter to continue working as if nothing ever happened.

It would be about 3 days later when I received a visit from the Guardian of Gotham.

I had just arrived home after a long day at work, and the visage of a piping hot pizza filled my mind as I pulled out my phone and called my favorite pizza place and asked them to deliver my favorite [Pizza Type] pizza along with [Favorite Soda Type] soda with an [Dessert] in addition; I had some extra cash and I felt like I deserved something sweet for all my hard work. I sat down in my favorite chair and turned on my television to watch [Favorite TV Show] while waiting for my pizza. I was intuned with my show when I felt a familiar aura coming from my balcony, I looked in that direction and saw a towering figure standing on my balcony, watching me while blocking out the moonlight. I rose from my chair and walked over to the door before sliding it open and came face to face with a man in a bat suit. I looked at his face, the upper part of his face covered by his ask with a glare on his face as he looked down at me; however, his aura gave him away.

"You are aware that I don't have muffins and coffee here, right?" I asked with a raised eyebrow and a smile on my face; he looked shocked by my words and marched into the apartment, causing me to close my door and walk over to him with my arms folded, "Is there a reason you are wearing that suit and staring at me through my window, Mr. Wayne?"

"How do you know who I am?" He asked.

"Your aura gave it away - you're radiating the same sadness you were the moment we met. You can change outfits but your aura shall always remain the same.

"You can read aura? You are not human." He said.

"Nope. I'm not human, however, I do prefer to live like one; I've been living like this for the past month & a half and I prefer living to this than I did my previous life." I shrugged.

"If you aren't human, what are you exactly?" He asked.

"I'd rather not say." I heard a knock on the front door, and my mouth started watering, "Food's here! About time!" I walked to the door, greeted the delivery man, and paid for my food while giving him a generous tip before closing the door behind me with my foot since the food was in my hands; I looked around to see Burce was no longer there but I didn't care. Time to eat!

Life going forward would be difficult after meeting Burce Wayne because he didn't learn how to leave me the heck alone. He would come to the cafe and attempt to make conversation with me, trying to gain personal information about me. He would show up at my apartment as Bruce and Batman constantly trying to make me change my lifestyle to a 'healthier' one; he doesn't approve of the additional muffins I take home or the amount of frozen food I have in my freezer. Even when I am out in public, he somehow manages to find me and tries to interfere with my plans or worm his way into them. Then, he literally tried to tell me that I would be adopted into his family; no matter how many times I refused. He was really starting to get on my nerves.

It would be another month when I met another person who would attempt to uproot my life & alter it to their liking: The Man of Steel, Kal-El.

While working at a cafe, I discovered my passion for drawing, specifically digital art and animation. One day, I came across a contest on TV offering a drawing tablet as the prize and decided to enter. To my surprise, I won the contest and received the setup at my doorstep a week later. I set it up in the second room of my apartment, which I converted into an office. Initially, it took me some time to get used to the tablet, but soon I started creating digital art and animations, which I shared on my social media accounts. That was the beginning of my journey.

After accumulating a massive following on Facebook and Twitter, I received a message from an Animation Company stationed in Metropolis; they were requesting that I come in for a meeting for a possible partnership in regards to my art and animations. I agreed to their request and I received the time and date for the meeting; Metropolis was a decent distance away but I happened to have purchased a motorcycle last week and was looking forward to the meeting.

I got on my bike with my flash drives full of art and animations and headed to Metropolis for a meeting. Once I arrived at the building, I gave my name to the receptionist, who then took me to the meeting room. There, I presented my work and the representatives were thrilled with it. They offered me a generous signing bonus and commission for every artwork and animation I created for them. I agreed to do commission work as I wanted to keep my weekend job at the cafe but would work on their projects during the week. After reading and signing the business deal, I left the building. As I was leaving, I bumped into a tall man with light blue eyes, black hair, glasses, and a reporter's outfit with a camera around his neck, as well as a notepad and pen in his hands. He introduced himself as Clark Kent, a journalist and reporter for the Daily Planet of Metropolis. He wanted to interview me as the youngest person to be hired by the Animation Company. I offered to take him to lunch and give him the interview he was looking for after hearing his stomach growl.

During our conversation, he told me about his family: His wife and work partner, Lois, his son, Jon, and his younger brother, Connor; as well as his parents John and Martha Kent. I expressed how lucky he was to have such a close family since I wasn't close with my family. He seemed sad for me and offered to have me meet this family and even offered to have me take the Kent Name for myself since I didn't have a surname, but I refused his offer and went back home to start getting to work on the content my new bosses wanted me to do for completion in 2 weeks time. However, that would not be the last time I would ever see Clark Kent.

I was doing work in my office when I got a video call from Bruce, who was still pestering me to join his family and become [Name] Wayne, but I continued to refuse him when I noticed there was another request for a video call from someone I didn't recognize; curiosity got the better of me and I accepted the call - it happened to be Clark.

Clark (Smiling): Hi, [Name]! How are you doing today?!

[Name]: How did you get my contact information, Clark? I didn't give it to you the last time we talked.

Clark: I happen to have a friend who knew you and I got your contact information from him, but that's not important right now! Have you thought about what we talked about?

Bruce (In the background): You were the one who broke into my computer and stole [Name's] Contact Information, Kent?

Clark: Bruce? Is that you?

[Name] merges the call between Bruce and Clark]

Clark: Bruce, why are you talking to [Name]?

Bruce: I can ask you the same thing, Kent. I'm am trying to convince [him/her] to accept the Wayne Name.

Clark: The Wayne Name? No way that's happening! [Name] is going to become a Kent!

[Name]: I'm not taking either of your names nor am I joining your families. The Bat-Family & Super-Family have nothing to do with me and I want nothing to do with either of you. Now, I'm working, leave me alone.

[Name] Leaves The Video Call]

After that video call, it was silent for about 3 weeks, I thought the two of them got the message and decided to leave me alone; however, I couldn't be more wrong.

It was around that time a 3rd Player entered the game and I was going to have a hard time shaking this one off.

The Princess of the Amazonian Nation and Defender of Man's World: Diana of Themyscira.

It was one of my days off and I had nothing better to do, so I decided to do something I hadn't done in a long while - go flying. I waited for the sun to leave the sky and the full moon to shine, I stood on the roof of my apartment complex and made sure no one was around before I allowed my Divine Power to flow through my body and took off into the thick layers of clouds. Using the clouds as cover, even though I was almost certain no one could see me from this height, and if they happened to see me, they would have most likely mistaken me for a bird. I was enjoying myself, feeling the breeze on my face when I felt another aura quickly approaching me; I stopped flying and floated there for a while I noticed a figure approaching me and stopped a few feet away from me - A Woman.

No.

An Amazon Warrior.

"I am Diana of Themyscira - Princess of the Amazon Nation. I have served the gods faithfully and have always been able to sense when someone of divine blood was near. Imagine my surprise to find a Divine One masquerading as a human and living as one. I heard of your actions from 2 Males I have been working with to protect Man's Word; I can feel it within you - You are a God/Goddess, I can tell from your aura." Diana explained to me, I exhaled before folding my arms while looking at her.

"You are correct, I am a God/Goddess of Peace; however, I am a Minor God/Goddess. I was sick of the way I was being created on Mount Olympus and decided to leave and live as a human. I have been enjoying life as I have been now; with the exception of Bruce Wayne & Clark Kent bothering me to join their families, alas, they refuse to take no for an answer." I exhaled with a shake of my head at the thought of all of Bruce's & Clark's attempts.

"They shall not get the chance. You are of Divine Blood and you need to be treated as such. You shall come with me to Themyscira and we shall worship you as you are meant to be." Diana said.

"I'm not interested. I love being a human." I said.

"You are not human...and you shall not continue to live as one. Come with me willingly, or I shall take you by force." Diana warned.

"I said that I am not interested. Goodbye." I said. She charged at me and attempted to grab my arm but I vanished and teleported back to my living room in a flash of gold light.

I ran my hand through my hair, pulled out my phone, and requested a month's vacation from both of my jobs. Once I received confirmation on both ends, I called a friend who owns a cabin in the woods, away from Gotham & Metropolis, and asked to use it for a month. He agreed since he owed me a favor. I packed a few things such as clothes, my sketch tablet, grade & color pencils, and my wallet. I made sure my bike was locked securely and asked my neighbor, who I was on good terms with, to watch my house while I was out of the city. After receiving confirmation from her, I went back inside to grab my suitcase before teleporting to the cabin's location since I had been there before. I knew where the spare key was and went inside to get some sleep. I just wanted to relax.

Currently, I was sitting on the porch of the cabin with a cup of coffee in my hands when I felt 3 Familair Auras approaching my current location; I knew they were going to find me eventually but I was surprised it took them this long - my vacation was going to be over in 3 days; might as well deal with this now. I sipped my coffee just as a black bat-themed jet appeared over the treeline before hovering on the ground and the cockpit opened as Batman jumped out and started walking towards me as Superman and Wonder Woman landed on the low grass at the same time, glaring at each other before glaring at Bruce who was standing before me, telling me it was time for me to join his family.

Superman matched over to his dark-dressed friend and grabbed his shoulder to push him away from me while barking that I was going to go to the Kent Farm in Smallville, Kansas to live with his Pa & Ma; he already told them about me and they were looking forward to meeting me and welcoming me to the Kent Family.

Wonder Woman pushed the two men apart and roared at them that I was a God/Goddess, therefore I needed to be treated like one and not a human as I have been living for the past few months. I would go with her to the Amazon Island and be worshipped as I was meant to be; while that would have interested me in the past, I wasn't interested in it now.

As for me, I just sat there watching them before exhaling, 'Just as there are geniuses in Humanity, there are also idiots.'

[End of the Remix]

Broken: And done. What do you think, @anxiousnerdwritings?

#minor god reader #yandere dc #platonic yandere #batman #superman #wonder woman #bruce wayne #clark kent #diana of themyscira #yandere

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moeblob · 7 months

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You know, I'm sorry for another story time but my life has been very stressed lately and today I got a huge boost. SO.

As some of you may know, I moved states at the end of July and have been here since August 1st basically. Social anxiety is a struggle but I'm making it. And there's this easy to reach by walking convenience store and almost every time I walk there I walk past a gem store. And I think to myself almost every single time "I love the store has a bouncer". I didn't say anything to him at first! But one day I got brave and proceeded to make an absolute FOOL of myself as I am on my way back from buying some sodas and ask him "are you like the store bouncer?"

The man looks at me and smiles and gives a little chuckle and says pretty much yeah? And then I say more awkward things and then promptly leave feeling very embarrassed. I purposefully AVOID that lil corner for a couple days and then finally feel brave enough to walk by cause it's ... like. Literally right by my destination. Man isn't even outside that day and I think phew! I can't be creepy if I can't talk to him!

BUT THEN I SEE THAT HE IS DIRECTLY INSIDE CHATTING TO A WORKER. And he sees me. And smiles and stops whatever conversation he's having and exits the store to say hi. (I am definitely beaming, like a normal person, because I apparently am NOT creepy enough to this man more than a foot taller than me who could easily kick my ass if he wanted) So we just chat. For maybe ten minutes? It's very nice! We have a Very Normal Conversation! I feel better about the first interaction because I had a second interaction.

So now............ today. I am once again wandering around and on my way to lunch when I pass the gem store and I'm like "hello again!" to the gem store bouncer. We begin to chat again and he mentions a pendant they recently appraised that he likes and I, thinking this entire time that the store was ONLY appointment only and I would never be allowed inside, am casually mentioning "yeah, I was born in June and we have three birthstones and like.... none of them are dark enough for me. I mean there's pearl which I'm not a fan of and then moonstone and another." And so he's saying they have a sheet inside to show birthstones so we walk in together to find out the mysterious third stone.

And the sheet only shows pearls. And I'm like "this is a crime against June babies" and then I somehow start talking to one of the female workers and I'm saying "yeah I just kinda like walking by here and seeing the bouncer" and she looks at him and is like "oh I like that." and I admit I have no other idea what to refer to him as (I don't know his name at this point anyway) and she's like "most often security guard."

Ah. Yes. Like a normal person would think. Security. Yes. Not "gem store bouncer". She then leaves to grab a coffee from across the street and I leave with the bouncer and somehow we get into talking about wearing mostly black and how he's pretty goth and then I mentioned a sweatshirt my aunt sent me once saying "I'm only wearing black until they come out with something darker" and he grins and says it's a life motto. Then the woman returns with her coffee and he tells me to tell her what I said, so I repeat it and she looks me dead in the eye and says "that was made for me. Also I love that you called him a bouncer it's hilarious".

I now observe that he (all black suit black shirt black tie) and her (black sweater with black/white striped pants n black shoes) are indeed somehow the gem store goth club. And then she heads back in and he says he's sorry they don't have any cookies to offer me, they normally have cookies in the back for employees, and I'm like "ah no it's fine thank you".

And then I left feeling like I was somehow allowed to join the Cool Goth Club at the gem store.

Anyway, sup, my new favorite person is the goth bouncer at the gem store and he makes me smile so much when I see him.

#moe talks a lot #not art #as a life update otherwise i am struggling but i am doing a LITTLE better and might actually finally be able to open comms like i planned #even if its already 9 days past when i wanted to open them.... i might be able to open some soon #it will probably not be a whole lot of slots and i apologize but while i need money i also need sanity o7 #long post #look guys im sorry i just think it is very cool that i somehow earned the amusement of a jewel seller by referring to the security man #as a bouncer because thats exactly what he strikes me as !#i say as someone who has never been to a bar or club and only know bouncers from crime shows #but it amused the cool goth seller inside and the goth bouncer is also amused so im winning here

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silverbirching · 9 months

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*raises hand* re: tanzanite being heat-treated... what does that mean?

Also, I never thought about jewelry not retaining speculative value. I suppose the whole "diamonds are a girl's best friend" thing makes it seem like that jewelry/gems are an investment/safety net.

Good question!

Now, let me preface this by saying: 95% of all colored gemstones on the market have had some manner of artificial treatment to make them more appealing. Generally speaking, this is a known quantity, and not something you need to be alarmed about.

By far the most common treatment (and it's attested in the archeological record, btw, so humans have known about this for a long time) is heat treating. You heat a mineral to a certain temperature for a given amount of time and sometimes the clarity will be improved, or the color will change or intensify. Courtesy of r/gems, here's a great side-by-side comparison of what most tanzanite looks like, before and after heat treatment:

This isn't a scam and it isn't some big secret -- it's best to assume that any given colored stone has been heat treated unless you have an independent lab report from a reputable firm saying otherwise. No, a private appraisal isn't good enough. No, the jeweler's word isn't good enough either. Heat treatment is stable (i.e. permanent) and not discernible to the naked eye, so it's not something you as an average consumer needs to worry about. It's also not a value determinant in almost any stone. Nobody gives a crap if your amethyst is 'unheated'. Nobody cares. Don't get tricked into paying a premium for it.

The majority of tanzanite is reddish-brown when it comes out of the ground, and only after heating do its lovely blue-violet tones show.

For your second question, while diamonds do retain more of their value, speaking very generally, than almost any colored stone, the speculative value of gemstones bought at retail is, like most things, effectively nil. Buy things because you love them, not because you're hoping someone will pay you more for them later -- the late capitalist need to turn every blessed thing on the planet into a casino chip is what turns people into motherfucking Daleks.

#gemology #ask a gemologist #tanzanite #gem FAQ #treatement

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whositmcwhatsit · 9 months

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Chapter 3

AN: Well, this whole writing thing got away from me for a bit, sorry everyone! Thank you to my alpha @thatbanditqueen, who decodes my gibberish, and a big thank you to @vintageshanny, @ellie-24 and @be-my-ally for keeping me sane without even knowing it.

Here are the previous chapters since you'll definitely need to be remind yourself what it's all about!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

There was a sharp rapping at the door after lunch the next day. Sally had gone back to the room to change into her bikini and robe, deciding to brave the poolside because she was tired of looking like the washed-out spirit of some pioneer girl haunting the hotel.

Thinking it was Laura checking on why she was taking so long, Sally threw open the door as she went to the mirror and adjusted the bikini top beneath her loose peasant blouse.

“Do you think I should untie the straps on this thing? I don’t want to have white lines on my shoulders.”

The tall man standing in the doorway raised his eyebrows behind his sunglasses and flashed a wide smile.

“Uh, I don’t know that I’m qualified to answer that one, Miss,” he replied amiably with a shrug.

Sally whirled round, feeling her mortified blush tingle as it hit her hairline.

“Oh gosh, I thought you were someone else,” she mumbled lamely. “Sorry.”

“Yeah, my name’s Sonny. I work for-“ He pointed a finger up and Sally frowned.

“God?” Utah wasn’t a million miles away but surely they didn’t send missionaries to the Las Vegas casino hotels. That just seemed unfair on both sides.

“What?” He gave a sharp laugh. “No!” He shot her a look like he thought she was either dumb or crazy, maybe a mixture of both. But she wasn’t the one who cased the corridor like a secret agent before murmuring: “Elvis. I work for Elvis.”

“Oh.” She thought that he was maybe waiting for more of a reaction, but after worrying that he was a Mormon missionary, the fact that he was one of Elvis’ guys was a relief.

“Uh, anyway, my boss wanted me to bring you these-“ He whipped out the tickets for that night’s show. “And, uh, this.” He held out a small, dark green velvet case in his other hand. She took both and frowned again at his look of expectation.

“Do you… Oh, I don’t really have any cash on me right now. Hang on a second, I can check-”

“God, no.” He wiped his face with a big meaty hand and yanked off his sunglasses, fixing her with a look that she thought was supposed to be intimidating but just looked exhausted. “Can you open it please? I’m s’posed to let him know how you… acted.”

“No pressure,” she muttered, lifting the lid.

Inside was a gold bracelet interlaced around emeralds circled by little diamonds. It looked like something the Queen of England might wear to a soiree, not a teller from a bank in the middle of nowhere. Not without being accused of embezzlement.

All of that ran through her head as she stared open-mouthed. Finally, she remembered her audience and she glanced back up.

“Can you tell him that I was overjoyed and jumped up and down and was grateful?” she asked, worrying that she hadn’t accrued enough goodwill to get him to lie for her. “I am very grateful, really grateful, but this is… I’ve never even seen anything like this before, let alone touched it.” She tentatively put a finger to the metal; it felt cool against her fingertip.

“Yeah, I’ll tell him.” He slid his sunglasses back on and gave her a small smile and a nod. “I’ll see ya.”

Sally nodded back and closed the door, clutching the tickets and bracelet to her chest. “Well, that was weird.”

At the pool, Laura huddled over the bracelet, pulling Sally’s wrist close to her near-sighted eyes like she was a jeweler, appraising gems.

“You think they’re real?” she asked, tilting Sally’s arm to see the stones caught the sun. Sally looked around at the other people on the sun loungers, feeling slightly too conspicuous thrusting precious stones in the air.

“I don’t know.”

“And you didn’t even have to sleep with him.”

“Keep your voice down!” Sally hissed, snatching her arm away.

“I’m just saying, you’ve got to be careful playing hard to get, you know, Sal, they can get tired of it real suddenly.”

“That’s not what I’m doing. I wouldn’t do that.”

Sally could imagine that he would be able to see through that pretty quickly too. He seemed to do that, to see deeper than people thought he did, or at least it felt like he did when his eyes were on you.

Almost as if she was afraid of being caught, she glanced up at the towering white façade of the hotel. It rose up and disappeared into the shimmering heat of the endless blue sky. Somewhere, right at the very top, which she couldn’t make out from the bottom, he was there. She wondered if he was thinking about her. Maybe he was looking down at the pool… She felt her cheeks heat up and she had to look away just in case.

That evening, she and Laura were standing in line for the dinner show. At the front were the devoted fans who had probably started queuing while they were still at the pool.

“Imagine if they knew you what you got up to last night,” Laura remarked, wiggling her eyebrows. She seemed more excited by the cachet of Sally’s relationship, such as it was, with Elvis, than Sally herself was. “What? It’s okay to enjoy things, Sal, Jesus!”

Sally opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted by Emilio the maître de who had somehow picked them out of the crowd of heavily made-up glamorously dressed women.

“The Beatles fan… Sally, is it not?” He pecked both her cheeks and then grabbed her fingers, wrapping them around his crooked arm. “We have been told to take extra special care of you.”

Sally glanced back at Laura, who had snatched hold of her other arm, and pulled a face. They giggled as they were escorted past all the baleful looking people in front of them in the queue.

“It’s like being a movie star!” she whispered to Laura.

“Now you’re getting it.”

Sitting in the central booth again, they felt highly visible as the room rapidly filled and staff served dinner. Sally watched the tables beside the stage fill up, the biggest tippers sitting central, women only closest to the stage.

“You know, some people come all the way from Japan and England and Australia just to watch these shows. Not even on vacation, just to see Elvis. The other night, I was talking to some people from South Africa!”

“Well, older folks have more money I guess,” Laura murmured, sipping her champagne.

“It’s not just older people,” she murmured, hearing how defensive she sounded. Laura shrugged, but didn’t reply as the lights started to go down.

The show passed in a blur of lights, sounds and, of course, music. Sally could tell that Elvis was getting more comfortable on the stage with each show, the patter between each song was becoming longer, sometimes surreal, usually funny, and he was cutting up during the songs more, swapping lyrics, usually for something dirty. The audiences seemed to enjoy it, and he certainly seemed to thrive on that.

Joe appeared during the piano intro for ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love.’ This time, he didn’t ask them to come backstage, he just gave them a smirk and gestured for them to go ahead of him.

In the wood panelled outer dressing room, Sally recognised some of the stars in the crowd, there were the actors from the Mod Squad, over there was Glen Campbell, but there was only one face she was looking for. She stayed back as the inner dressing room door opened, there was a glimpse of fleur-de-lis wallpaper, and Elvis came out.

Sally thought he looked anxious as he emerged, but even as her brain was registering it, his face relaxed into his usual charismatic smirk and he scanned the room. She averted her eyes, her stomach fluttering manically, and tried to look casual. She twitched a nervous smile at a stranger across the room and looked around for Laura, finding her beaming up at a tall, tanned older man.

Shaking her head, Sally turned back and almost banged her nose on Elvis’ chest.

“Oh!”

“Snuck up on ya, didn’t I!” He looked pretty pleased with himself even as he grabbed her forearm so that she didn’t stumble back. He pulled on her arm a little harder, tugging her towards him so that he could lean down and give her a lingering kiss on the cheek. She felt a wave of goosebumps ripple up her spine as her hand brushed against his suit jacket and his cologne tickled her nose.

“You did, I almost pulled out my pepper spray.”

“Pepper spray?! Hell, that ain’t no good, honey, that’s just seasoning. We oughta see about getting you a gun.”

“Oh, no thank you,” she replied, pulling a face.

“Not a big one,” he reassured her, like that was the problem. “You know, they make ‘em small enough that you can just put it in your purse.”

She envisioned fishing around for a mint or lipstick and shooting herself instead.

“I think I’m more comfortable with the pepper spray.”

Elvis pulled a face that told her that he wasn’t, but luckily they were interrupted by one of his famous guests, who leant right across her to shake Elvis’ hand and pat him on the shoulder. Sally moved back before she was elbowed. She almost stepped on the foot of a man behind her who was wearing a jacket covered in Elvis pins. It was a comedy of errors as she shuffled and circled and edged out of everyone’s way. She found herself pressed up against a decorative carpet that hung against the wall, overshadowed by a dark wood cabinet. It didn’t feel that different from the showroom, standing at a distance, watching him say his lines and his audience beaming at him. Even off stage he was still always giving a performance.

After about half an hour, the tall man who had delivered her bracelet- Sonny- gave her a pleasant smile and asked her to come with him. She glanced over at where Elvis was explaining something with animated hand gestures to a rapt group of men and women. The group let out a loud collective laugh as Sally grabbed Laura and they followed Sonny from the room.

“Where’s Elvis?” Laura asked as they walked along the bland tiled corridor towards the elevators.

“He’ll be coming along,” Sonny replied, pausing to introduce himself. Laura’s eyes lingered on him a little longer and Sally looked down to hide her knowing smile.

The elevator ride felt like an interrogation as Laura questioned Sonny on himself, on Elvis, on Hollywood, and anything else that caught her attention. Laura’s enthusiasm was unphased by Sonny’s stoicism, even after he mentioned his fiancée. Sally envied her friend’s confidence and self-assurance. Laura was the top saleswoman back home every month because she had a knack of dragging customers into conversations and building rapport with them so that when she mentioned that she was worried that they were not sufficiently covered by insurance, or that they could get that home renovation done now if they just signed up for a little, low-interest home loan, they felt they were being advised by a friend. If anyone had told Sally that one of them would get noticed by Elvis while on vacation, she would have bet all her cash on Laura.

Up in the Imperial suite, Sonny brought the women a drink and settled them in the den like they were his house guests. He seemed to have succumbed to Laura’s charms, sitting beside her on the couch and stretching out his arm behind her. Sally clutched her drink and surveyed the room, pretending to be intensely interested in the chandelier as Laura giggled quietly off to her right.

Finally, the door of the suite burst open and half a dozen guys strode in together. They all seemed to be talking at once, laughing at some in-joke. Elvis appeared amidst the group and the corner of his mouth twitched up as he caught sight of her. He made a beeline for her as his entourage peeled off and headed in different directions. Joe handed him a bottle of water, still talking to him, but it didn’t slow Elvis’ stride as he came and stood in front of her.

Without a word, he took the drink from her and placed it on the side table, then grabbed hold of her hand and pulled her to her feet.

“C’mon, honey, let’s go hide.”

Sally bit down on her lips to stop herself grinning like a cartoon as he tugged her along behind him. He took big strides so she had to half jog in her heels to keep up and she kept her eyes on the floor to make sure she didn’t trip on the thick carpet or any hidden steps.

In the bedroom, he slowed down as he purposefully closed the door, leaning on it for a moment before he turned round and smiled at her. She shivered involuntarily at the light twinkling in his eyes.

“Hi.”

“Hello,” she giggled and he bit his lip as he moved toward her, his eyes taking her in with an almost predatory hunger. His lips pressed softly against hers even as she felt him gathering her up, his hand around the back of her head, the other on the small of her back, sliding up as he pressed her into him.

Sally almost sagged in his arms as the anticipation and tension she had felt since leaving him passed liked waves from her body. She didn’t realise he was moving the both of them backwards until the side of the bed hit her calves and she made a squeaking noise against his mouth as she wobbled. Elvis’ grip of her tightened even as her arms tensed around his athletic frame, trying to keep herself upright.

Elvis pulled back from the waist up, his eyes opening slowly, thick black lashes flickering against his cheeks, as if he didn’t want to quite let go of the kiss. It only made her want to launch herself back at him, but she suspected he knew that.

“Man, I been thinking about this ever since I saw you in that dress,” he murmured, his hand dragging around her waist from her back and his long fingers tickling underneath the short hem.

Sally had already worn all of her good outfits to his shows, so she had borrowed a green mini dress from Laura and had spent most of the evening tugging it down.

“You wear this for me, honey?” His warm breath tickled her neck as he leant in to pepper her jaw and throat with soft butterfly kisses. “You ain’t trying to get me in trouble now, are you.”

At the same time, her thighs tingled with goosebumps at the feel of his callused fingers trailing up to the edge of her underwear beneath her skirt.

Part of her was protesting that this was too fast, that he was too much of everything: too experienced, too rich, too famous, too handsome, too Elvis for her. She was so far out of her depth that drowning was inevitable. The problem was that he made drowning look both exciting and pleasurable.

“I wore it because it matched my new bracelet,” she said, slipping her fingers through the opening of his jacket, warmed by his skin and the feel of the coarse chest hair against her fingertips. She could feel the thudding of his heart reverberating through his rib cage and sternum.

His chin dimpled as he peered down, grabbing her hand and pulling her wrist up for examination. She gazed at his face as he inspected her wrist, his left eyebrow twitching with self-satisfaction. She loved the creases at the corners of his mouth, how they made his full lips look sullen even as she knew he was suppressing a smile. It felt like a secret between them.

“You like it, baby?”

Sally shot him a look of disbelief. “Of course, it’s beautiful, Elvis, so beautiful, but you shouldn’t have. It looks expensive.”

“That don’t matter,” he murmured, frowning. “It looks pretty on your little wrist here.” He dipped forward and pressed his lips to the bony part of her wrist. Sally’s whole arm twitched at the heat and velvety softness of his mouth and her stomach fluttered as his pout continued its path round to her pulse point. His hair brushed against her jaw and throat as he leant over pressing kisses up the delicate skin on the inside of her forearm.

“I -uh..” She dropped down onto the bed, even as she was thinking that she was starting to feel a little lightheaded from holding her breath.

He looked like he was holding back a laugh as he asked, ‘You okay, honey?”

“I meant to do that.” She frowned, daring him to contradict her.

“Uh huh.” He nudged her legs open with his knee so that he could step closer and she could feel her skirt sliding to the top of her thighs as he drew in, his thumbs on her jaw tipping her head back so that he could kiss her as he slowly and gently lowered her back onto the bed, his tongue teasing its way into her mouth.

“Well,” he said, pressing his knee into the mattress right at the apex of her thighs, the pressure of him answering the ache beginning to throb there, “I might not get around to the next show, but-” He lifted a mischievous eyebrow. “It’ll be worth it.”

It took every drop of restraint in Sally’s being not to grind down on his thigh, but her self-discipline was almost immediately undermined by Elvis pressing down on her, and she let out a sigh mixed with a moan, catching a glimpse of his smirk before he kissed her again. Yet again, he was performing exactly the show he knew his audience enjoyed.

Trying to find some sense of balance, she let her hands glide down from his shoulder blades, feeling the mechanics of his lean muscles working beneath his suit jacket, and cupped his perfectly round ass. She felt him pause for a second, before he tried to cover his surprise by moving with even more authority, rolling his hips and driving a moan from her that had her turning her face into his neck and hiding in embarrassment. He didn’t seem to realise this was what she was doing as he shuddered and showered kisses on her throat and shoulder, pulling back her neckline as far as it could go so he could taste her pink, sun-kissed skin.

Sally felt his teeth clamp down lightly on the muscle in her shoulder before he drew back, depriving her of his spicy warmth, so that he could shrug off his suit jacket. As usual, he wasn’t wearing anything underneath and she couldn’t stop herself reaching out to touch his skin, running her fingertips up his sides and making him twitch and hiccup a laugh before he grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head. Her bracelet bit into her skin from the pressure, but she didn’t fight it or protest.

“This okay?” he asked softly, his face looking suddenly very boyish and vulnerable. It was unexpected and helped ease some of her nerves as she gazed up at him and nodded. Her lips were swollen and tingly, seemingly a side effect of being in close proximity to him, and she bit down on her bottom lip, trying to stop herself from panting too needily. He groaned, mumbling about how she was going to be the end of him, and sank back down into kissing and rubbing and pressing against her as she shivered and writhed and pressed right back.

Sally’s skirt was now somewhere around her waist and her restraint was buried somewhere in the sand outside of Las Vegas along with everything else that people from this city found themselves forsaking. She hooked her fingers into the tight waistband of his pants and tugged impatiently even as her tongue was sliding against his.

“Hey, whoa whoa, easy, baby,” he mumbled into her mouth. “We got plenty of time. I got you to myself all night, right?” She nodded dumbly. “That’s right, we made a deal.”

Despite his words, he walked his fingers up her thigh and her breath stuttered in her throat as he slipped his thumb into the warmest, wettest part of her. His eyes crinkled slightly and his mouth fell slightly open as he studied her face, which she was desperately trying not to screw up into unflattering expressions as he circled and dragged the pad of his thumb over her slippery skin, flooding her with sensation, before slowing and ebbing back, letting her breathe and float for moment. He seemed to take her efforts to be quiet and composed as a personal challenge, shifting his hips to get more comfortable and pressing himself against her thigh, before pulling out his thumb from the leg of her underwear and insert his whole hand into the front.

“S’okay,” he whispered, panting softly, as he played her like an instrument with his delicate fingers and she bit down on a whine. She could see where his mascara was beginning to smudge below his eyes as they both lost their cool both figuratively and literally.

Sally felt sweat trickle from her hairline down behind her neck and she shifted slightly. Elvis glanced up from where he was watching the movement of his hand and his heavy-lidded eyes seemed to assess her. In one smooth movement, he rolled onto his back, his hand still working in her underwear, and reached over to grab a pillow from the top of the bed.

The next thing she knew she was being thwacked lightly in the face with it.

“No, wait, that ain’t right,” he remarked dryly, picking it up again and smirking at her disgruntled expression beneath. “Lift your head, honey.” She clasped her hair in one hand and raised her head so that he could tug the pillow into place with his free hand, grunting slightly as he tried to keep himself up at the same time.

As soon as he was satisfied she was comfortable, he leant back over to kiss the air from her, increasing the pressure of his fingers as they began to sink into her while his thumb strummed at the bundle of nerves, making her twitch and writhe.

“Oh God,” Sally breathed, clasping at his neck and the damp tendrils of his hair. She couldn’t decide where to touch him, still not able to believe that she could. Her hands moved from his neck to his shoulders to his back, brushing his narrow waist, kneading his perfect ass and squeezing his thighs.

As the knot tightened in her belly, her muscles tensed and she began to moan freely, losing her inhibitions, she palmed at the firm bulge in his pants. He growled softly, pressing his face to her chest and resting his warm, sweaty cheek against her decolletage, scratching her with his sideburn. It felt like he was everywhere, leaving nowhere for her to retreat and hide, making it impossible to stay calm and demure, giving her no way to hold it together.

His fingers prodded deeper, causing the swell of the waves of pleasure in her gut to break and ripple through her body. She whimpered into his damp hair as stimulation so intense that it was almost painful rolled over her, making her thighs clench and her toes curl. The aftershocks made her twitch and he huffed a laugh into her temple, giving her pussy a scritch like it was actually his pet.

Sally shot him a disapproving look, a little embarrassed at how completely he had taken her apart with just his hand. He raised his eyebrows and shrugged as if he wasn’t responsible for what he did.

While she slowed her breathing and felt the unwelcome return of her inhibitions, Elvis hovered over her, straightening her underwear and diligently pulling down her skirt. He moved up, adjusting her neckline and pulling the shoulder of her dress back into place. Sally hoped they hadn’t stretched it, because she knew Laura would make her pay for another and she suspected it wasn’t from a catalogue like Sally’s own dresses.

“All better,” he pronounced in a soft, babyish voice, looking down at her body. When his eyes returned to her face however, he snorted softly. “Up here’s a different story though, baby, up here you’s a mess!”

“Noooo!” she protested, her hands going up to her hair, feeling the damp frizz and knots as he gave a cartoonish cackle and nodded. She pouted and reached up, vigorously ruffling his hair and pushing it in his face. “There, now we match!”

There was a pause and her stomach dropped as she thought that maybe she had crossed a line, but then he laughed and shook his head, swiping his black hair out of his eyes before he swiftly straddled her and obliterated any hope she had that her hairdo was salvageable. She wrinkled her nose and blew a lock of hair off her face.

“You made me do that!” he informed her. “I didn’t have no choice.” He did one of his patented sullen smirks as he picked up a long lock of her hair and laid it across her forehead like a monobrow. His laughter vibrated through her and his thighs tightly clamped her hips as she batted at her face and knocked her hair away.

“You are a public menace,” she informed him.

“You ain’t the first person to say that,” he nodded. “First person with a bird’s nest on their head to say it though maybe…”

In spite of his playful tone and the calming endorphins flooding her body, she was starting to feel self-conscious and she tried to roll over and escape his grip.

“Okay, let me up.”

“Honey, I’m just teasing. It ain’t that bad.” The expression on his face contradicted his words. She shoved at his thighs, trying to push herself free, and quickly discovered when her hand slid up that she might have been a mess, but she was apparently an exciting mess.

It was another twenty minutes of rolling around on the bed before she made it to the bathroom to examine the damage to her hair. It was as bad as she had feared, and she rooted around in the drawers and cabinets looking for a brush or comb to attempt triage. During her search, she found three pistols, some amber bottles of medication with a range of names printed on them, and a photo of a cute blond-haired baby, before she finally found what she was looking for.

Two hours of curlers and teasing and half a can of hairspray wasted, she vigorously brushed her abused hair into long brown curtains on either side of her face and wet some tissue to wipe away her smudged and smeared eye make-up.

When she emerged from the bathroom, Elvis was laying on the bed and he did a double take as she came out.

“What?” she asked, pausing nervously.

“Nothing… Nothing, honey.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You just look different with your hair all down like that.”

“I didn’t have much choice now, did I?”

“No, I guess not.” He rolled off the bed and somehow made it onto his feet before he hit the floor, striding over to clasp her head in his hands and kiss her almost chastely. “It looked so pretty before though, honey.”

“Thank you?”

He shook his head sharply. “I mean, you’re still pretty. I don’t even know what I’m saying, man. Sorry, baby.” He kissed her again, this time with more force. “Every time I get up on that stage I think I must shake something loose up there, losing my damn mind. You’re pretty, you’re beautiful, honey.”

Before either of them could speak again, there was a gentle tap on the door.

“E, it’s time.” The guy’s voice was no louder than speaking volume and clearly audible through the door. Sally was horrified, thinking about what they might have heard on the other side of that door. Elvis didn’t seem bothered though, just annoyed that their time together had to end, but then he was probably used to all of this.

“I gotta go to work, honey. Sold my soul to Kirk Kevorkian for a hundred thousand a week and I’m starting to think I’m the one that got snowed.” One side of his mouth twitched up into a half smile as he rose, but she didn’t quite understand what his expression was trying to convey. And in in an instant, it was gone.

“You coming to the show?” he asked with a bashful smile.

“If that’s okay with you?”

At this, he cupped her face in his large hands and kissed her, nipping her bottom lip between his teeth before pressing his forehead against hers.

“You ain’t real,” he told her, to her confusion. “There ain’t no way you’re real.”

“Funny,” she replied, “I think the same about you.”

As he walked her to the main door of the suite like they were on a surreal date, he told her not to bother coming down to the stage for a kiss at the midnight show.

“Oh,” she murmured, a little deflated. “I did exceed my allocation after all then?” He gave her an amused little frown.

“The way you talk, honey! Naw, I just got something else in mind. Don’t go messing with my plans, now, okay?” He gave her a peck, motioning to someone behind her. Laura reappeared, straightening her dress slightly and looking sheepish. Sally looked from her to Sonny wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

The midnight show, her fifth now in three days, confirmed that the tummy flip when Elvis appeared on stage was a permanent thing. Meeting him, talking to him, hadn’t lessened her wonder and awe at his talent and energy. If anything, seeing him up close in the flesh and learning more about him only made that huge presence he projected seem that much more impressive.

“Does it bother you?” Laura asked curiously, pouring herself a glass of champagne from the magnum resting in an ice bucket. They hadn’t ordered it, it had just been presented to them with the assurance that there was no charge.

“What?” Sally asked. Laura nodded towards the stage where Elvis was crouched down in front of a couple of women who were giving him a gift. He gave them both deep, effusive kisses, going back for seconds from one of them.

“Why would it bother me?” she laughed. “if he didn’t do it, I wouldn’t have got to kiss him.”

“Exactly,” Laura said cryptically, raising her eyebrows. Sally rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the show.

Elvis didn’t introduce Love Me Tender until later in the set, leaving Sally wondering what he was talking about when he said he had a plan. When he finally started the introduction, she suddenly became vigilant, like she was waiting for an ambush.

At first, nothing seemed much different, Elvis sang a little, kissed a lot and the band persevered, playing verse after verse. Then, after walking to the wings, he just… didn’t stop. She watched his dark head drop down into the crowd and pandemonium broke out. People- women- were charging down from the back of the showroom, the audience were laughing and whooping as girls called Elvis’ name and begged to be able to touch him.

“God, they’re going to eat him alive!” Laura laughed, as they both craned their necks to follow the knot of people moving through the crowd.

Sally watched as people tried to climb over tables just to reach out and touch his arm as he passed by. He was being jostled by the press of his own bodyguards and then the fans begging for kisses. Her eyes widened as she realised the procession and growing mob were heading toward their booth; blue uniformed security guards were already appearing behind her, ready to marshal him through safely.

A beautiful blond managed to step into Elvis’ path as he almost reached the back of their booth. Sally and Laura had turned in their seats and were kneeling up on the red velvet cushions, watching the circus. He clasped the blonde’s face, just as he had done Sally’s only an hour earlier, and kissed her on the lips. Sally wondered if maybe she should be feeling jealous, but the truth was that she really just felt empathy with the woman, understanding how exciting and delicious it was to be kissed by him.

Despite the pressing and the chaos, he managed to pause at their booth, his tanned hand replete in gold rings gripping the white scrollwork to fight the momentum pushing him on. He gave her a lopsided grin as he leant in.

“How’d you like my plan? Seemed a good idea at the time.” He almost stumbled as he was jostled from behind.

“Not bad for a public menace,” she grinned, wrapping her fingers around his sweaty neck and almost sighing against his soft lips. A security guard stepped closer as if she was an overexcited fan that he was going to have to drag away, but she drew away before he could reach out and grab her.

“See ya later!” Elvis called over his shoulder, taken by the current. As he was swept on, she only heard the word ‘deal’ float back through the screams and whooping and laughter.

Turning round and smiling at Laura, Sally licked her lips and savoured the salt there.

Tag list:

@itsnotthatserious03 @everythingelvispresley @bigromansgirl-blog, @sillybookmarks, @returntopresley

As always, shout out to the Elvis harem: @thatbanditqueen, @be-my-ally, @vintageshanny, @ellie-24, @from-memphis-with-love, @missmaywemeetagain, @peskybedtime

#elvis presley #70s elvis #elvis fanfic #elvis x oc #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley fanfic #elvis smut #1970

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riftdancing · 19 days

Text

Fierce, usually bright mismatched slits narrowed darkly as with a click of his fingertips, the positions between Rex and Blink would swap. The crimson haired miqo'te would go on the defense while Vaniro main lined the assault.

“You used my brother.” Came the hiss of her tone with a darkness Rex likely hadn’t heard before. The tip of her Cerulean gun blade came to rest just beneath Kierian’s chin, lifting so he would meet her gaze. It sparked to life with the energy of Vaniro's aether and danced wildly with her anger. The pilot was a storm begging to be unleashed. “You tainted him. Turned him against his family, and you think you can beg me for mercy?” The blade tip remained perfectly still even though her body ached to quiver with the weight of her anger. Vaniro’s nostrils flared, and for a moment Kierian felt sure this might be the last thing he ever saw.

An incredibly vexed sigh left the pilot’s frame and the blade would lower slightly. For a moment Kierian wondered if he may yet live. The Hyur's thinning lips peeled back to speak, but Vaniro silenced him with a piercing glare. “You’re a rat, Kierian. A sniveling bottom feeder looking for any opportunity to climb. You didn’t care about my Brother. You cared about what power he could bring you. You were foolish to overlook me-”

“You were the gem of your Father’s eye!” Kierian blatantly retorted, interrupting her. “If any of us so much as looked in your direction he would have had us all shot. Slevin was the only one who could even get remotely close to y-” yet his words were ended with a sharp crack which echoed about the blood spattered hall. It was the back of Blink’s half gloved hand clipping his cheek mercilessly before harsh words bore into him.

“DOMINIC GAVE ME TO HIM AND YOU DID NOTHING.” Not once had Rex ever heard Vaniro raise her voice. In tense situations like this the woman, his pilot, was often calm, in control, and not an ounce of emotion leaked through. To this, Kierian would know a fear he’d not yet felt before. “YOU STOOD BY AND WATCHED. WHO DID YOU CHOOSE TO HELP?” The miqo'te's gaze was like a wildfire ready to devour and burn anything it set upon yet the hyur was at least smart enough not to answer her. Then the woman’s hellfire came in nothing but an unnerving and grave whisper which sliced through him like a knife. “You let me burn in support of a man who didn’t even need your help, yet you have the nerve to beg me for mercy??”

Slowly Vaniro leaned back, her narrowed gaze appraising the situation. Kierian had shrunk down beneath her, down to his knees as if ready to beg for mercy and yet could not find the words. He did not deserve it. Kierian Reeve had gravely wronged her. Trembling beneath the weight of her words and his past wrongs, he would feel Vaniro’s boot plant firmly in the center of his chest, knocking him over so his back met the floor. “You have one minute to convince me not to slit your throat.” Yet, unbeknownst to Kierian, Vaniro had already made her choice.

“I’m sorry.” His voice trembled feebly, and for a moment Blink’s facial expression lightened. “It’s not that I made the wrong choice, it's that I simply didn’t make enough of one.” Finally those dark brown hues would lift to find the woman’s gaze. “Where I chose Skorn, it should have been both of you. I was blinded by my desire to climb. I wrote you off as too much trouble when you were clearly in need of aid. I was selfish and arrogant. When I chose your brother I did not do so with his best interests in mind, only mine. It was only after working with him that I grew to care for him. When you took him from me I was so blinded by my own anger I didn’t even see how much you had grown. How independent, fierce, and clearly capable of leadership you really were." A pause, "No, are.” He corrected himself. “I should have seen it when the Harbingers pledged their loyalty to you after Skorn’s death. But I was blinded by my rage. It’s not an excuse… but you-” His gaze flicked to Rex who still kept her back free of any interruption or distraction, “-and him, have opened my eyes. I failed you just like I failed Skorn.”

Vaniro’s shoulders lost some of the tension they held before as she gazed down upon Kierian, before rolling her eyes with annoyance. “Get up.” the pilot ordered before watching him rise. “Call off your men.” The order was put through almost instantaneously. Then Vaniro took a few steps back towards Rex. “Today you live another day, Reeve Kierian. Fortunately for you I’ve been convinced creating allies is a stronger play than eliminating enemies. Tomorrow is a new day to be the person you’ve learned you should be. But remember, you breathe because I allow you to breathe and if I ever catch wind of you repeating your mistakes, I will suck the very air from your lungs and smoke it with one of his finest cigars.” She would motion to Rex with a thumb. “Don’t disappoint me.”

#riftdancing - writing #riftdancing - roleplay #character - blink vaniro

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 years

Text

After Dinner

Sweet Treats AU Masterlist

Verbal abuse and manipulation, dubcon. Loki is very hard to please.

Please let me know what you think <3

🍯🍯🍯

The house is finally quiet but you can't help the dread screaming in your head. You step out of your towering heels and sit to rub the arches of your feet. As you glance in the vanity, Loki approaches from behind and his hands crawl over your shoulders and along your neck. He toys with the green gem there, the one you can't remove.

"I'd say my parents were satisfied," he pinches the stone between his fingers and it gleams oddly before dimming again, "despite that peculiar creature my brother brought along."

"I think so," you smile softly as he drags his fingertips back to the top of your dress and descends, tugging down the tab of your zipper.

"And shall I be content, darling?" He pulls until the fabric slackens and droops down your chest.

"I should get all this off," you say as you reach for the cylinder of makeup wipes.

He grabs your chin and pulls you back against him, "I know it sounded like a request but we both know it's not."

He releases you and you retract your hand. You stand and shimmy out of the satin, slinging it over the seat as you step around it. He strips away his jacket as you go to the bed dutifully.

You unhook your bra and drop it to the floor, quickly rolling down the lacy thong to your ankles. You sense him behind you and gasp in surprise as a length of fabric wraps around your neck. You tense and sit back on your heels before you can look back at him. He tugs tight the knot of his tie until it grips your throat suffocatingly.

"How immaculate you are, darling," he purrs as he pulls you to face him, "and yet you leave so much to be desired beyond these walls."

You lower your lashes in shame. He cups your chin and makes you look at him, his shirt hanging open down his taut muscled torso. You meet his jade eyes and he smirks.

"I could have any on this pitiful planet and yet I've chosen you," he pokes his thumb up to your lip and pushes it down, "and you look at me like that?"

"My prince, I–"

"But at least you know to get on your knees for me," he lets his hand trail down your neck, tickling down and fondling your chest, his eyes follow as if appraising your value.

You wince as he tweaks your nipple and snickers at your pain. He yanks on the tie with his other hand and guides you across the mattress like a dog on a leash. You move to his whims and he leads you down to pillows, winding the tie around the hook hidden among the wooden carvings of the bed frame.

You cannot move for how tight the tie is and you lay prone as he back away and shrugs off his shirt. He undresses, a blur in the edge of your vision as you await him. As your skin prickles in anticipation of his devilish deeds.

"Darling," he slithers as his buckle clinks, "you must remember to be quiet this night," he taunts as he nears the bed, "no matter how I delight you, I cannot have you raising a furor for our guests." His pants fall to the floor with the weight of his belt and the bed dips slightly, "you must practice restraint…" he grazes your leg with his fingertips, "can you be good for your prince, darling?"

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #drabble #dark drabble #dark!drabble #sweet treats #mcu #marvel #thor #avengers

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nerdanelschildren · 4 months

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Hi, do you have any Caranthir headcanons?

Hi!!! yes I do and I'm so glad you asked me this

first of all, the boy is autistic in a way that frequently gets him labeled as "overly angry" or "a hothead," "difficult to work with," etc. he just doesn't understand social cues. at all. and he snaps at people when he reaches the end of his rope, is overstimulated, or otherwise feels like he is not being heard or respected.

since all Finweans must have a craft and his is never specified in the published Silm, I think his craft is something he can work on in a quiet room by himself. he likes to withdraw and pour himself into something to "recharge" so to speak from all the public scrutiny that comes with being a prince of the Noldor.

I've seen some people on here suggesting that his craft could be sewing, weaving, or some other kind of textile art, and I feel like that would fit well.

he genuinely gets along with the Dwarves of Nogrod and Belegost, mainly because of the excellent trade deals that are benefiting all kingdoms involved, but also because the Dwarves can understand him as a person. Dwarves and Noldor are already primed to be best friends, as they have a lot in common to begin with, but also Caranthir in particular has a lot of traits that the Dwarves would admire.

knowledge about metals and smith-craft. (you don't get raised by Feanor without absorbing at least some of this, even if smith-craft is not your chosen profession. I bet Caranthir can hold his own in a conversation with Dwarven smiths about their trade.)

I bet he's good at appraising the worth of certain metals and gems, too, which would prove to the Dwarves that he knows his shit and is not just talking out of his ass

ability to hold the Orcs at bay, coupled with a strong desire to do so. not only is this Elf helping make his allies rich, but he is literally on the front lines himself keeping them safe.

and speaking of fighting Orcs: Haleth. he was actually in love with her. it struck him very quickly when he saw her on the battlefield covered in Orc guts and screaming bloody murder. it may have been unrequited or they may have had a relationship, I go back and forth on this one, but in the end, she was mortal and he felt his spirit could not leave this world yet, as, you know, he had an Oath to fulfill.

#caranthir #headcanons #my posts

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megalony · 2 years

Text

An eventful night

I haven’t done a Sonny Carisi imagine for a while now but I’ve gotten back into my SVU writing. I hope you all will like this one, feedback is always lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn @dreaming-about-fanfictions

Masterlist

Summary: Sonny agrees to go undercover with (Y/n) in a sex trafficking ring, but he can’t stop her getting hurt.

Enjoy.

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

"(Y/n)? Would you infiltrate, he knows Amanda but he hasn't seen you yet."

"I'll go with her, he hasn't seen me either and it'll be safer."

Why did she agree to this? The mere thought of going undercover in a sex trafficking ring at a pimping party set her skin on edge and made her stomach churn horribly. She could get hurt, someone could try get handsy with her and she would break her cover fighting them off. What if she got cornered and hurt or assaulted?

Her nerves were barely controlled on the job, how would she be going under cover like this?

But Sonny was going with her. He wasn't about to let her go into a room full of pimps without at least one person in there with her that she knew and could trust. And who better to go in there with her than her own boyfriend. He could have her on his arm, wrap himself around her like a vine as he always does and get snarky with anyone trying to touch her and they wouldn't wonder why because she would be his girl.

A tingle ran down (Y/n)'s spine when her eyes cast down to look at what she was wearing for what felt like the hundredth time in a minute.

She had on a tight-fitting bright crimson dress with ruffles along the waist and spaghetti straps on the arms. The dress appraised her curves and figure lovely but the problem was that the hem barely covered her bum and sat on the very tops of her thighs. If she moved in the wrong way it would become a long shirt rather than a dress and her matching red lace underwear would be on show for everyone to leer at.

Her hands moved to pull down the dress again, wanting it at least another two inches down her thighs just to feel safe and protected but it slowly ruffled its way back up her legs again.

Her lips were smeared a darker shade of red and her hair was pinned up in a sultry style that always had Sonny on edge.

When her eyes landed on Sonny, her stomach tensed but for a different reason this time. His hair was slicked back into a curly wave as usual, but he was wearing black, high waisted trousers that clung to and showed off his hips. Tucked into the waistband of the trousers was the white dress shirt he wore which he had rolled up at the sleeves and the first two buttons undone. He was a sight for lustering eyes but when his own eyes found (Y/n), they seemed to widen like dark pools filling with desire.

"Wow... you look stunning, doll."

Sonny advanced over to (Y/n) and wrapped an arm around her lower waist before he pressed his lips to her temple, not wanting to smudge the rouge on her lips just yet.

"Careful Mr Carisi, you're on camera." A smirk pulled at (Y/n)'s lips when her eyes cast down to her cleavage and her finger tapped at the ruby hanging on a chain around her neck. It looked simple enough, the people they were investigating would know anyone in their group couldn't afford a real gem. But it would be impossible for any of them to realise that it was really a secret hidden camera to record the nights events.

"I'll have to bear that in mind, you ready?"

(Y/n) took a deep breath and tried one last failed attempt to pull down her dress before she nodded and walked ahead towards the lift.

"Sonny!" His name came out in a gasp when (Y/n) felt his hand come down and land a loud smack to her ass.

"What, I'm just getting into character." He shrugged his shoulders with a smirk that could kill, knowing that his girl was blushing because they were still in the precinct and eyes were now burning holes into them.

It was going to be an eventful night.

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

Casting his eyes to the right, Sonny watched (Y/n) accept a glass of wine with a sultry smile, noticing her lipstick smearing around the rim of the glass with wine as red as her dress. He watched her hips sway and bounce from side to side as she slowly passed between the people dotted around the room. Her head dipping down as a silent hello, batting her lashes at a few people to try and make herself fit in.

He didn't like the way people were looking at her.

Granted, Sonny knew they were looking at her in a hungry, devouring way because they expected every girl here to be limitless and available to them and their looks meant that (Y/n) was blending in just fine. But he still didn't like it. Their eyes were looking far too long at his girl, the one he was here to protect and keep a watchful eye on.

If he lost sight of her for even a minute, someone could try and whisk her away to a secluded room and that was not going to happen.

Moving around, Sonny sat himself down on the end seat of the sofa to his left and took a swig of the beer in his hand. He had to at least look like he was meant to be here and enjoying himself somewhat.

"Hmm, fancy coming with me to the back for some... fun?"

A shudder ran down the base of (Y/n)'s spine at the crude tone of voice coming from a rather sleezy looking man. His grin showed crooked, discoloured teeth and his breath reeked of alcohol, more prominently, of gin. (Y/n) could practically feel the grease dripping off him and when he slid up close to her side she had to stop herself from gagging and try to look a little swayed. She was meant to be a sex worker, a girl who was hurt into submission, told that no was not something she could say.

She was supposed to pretend to be easy-going, up for anything and anyone because that was how every other girl and woman was at this party and she couldn't stick out like a sore thumb.

"Ha, you'd have to ask the boss about that." (Y/n) darted her tongue over her lips before pressing them together and tilting her head down, smiling devilishly at the revolting man. She curled a strand of hair around her finger before consciously biting her finger to try and put on a seductive show.

Her head turned in Sonny's direction but it seemed that he had heard the conversation so a desperate look wasn't needed to get him to help her out.

His arm swooped out in one swift motion and curled around her waist like a hook that reeled her in. His fingers sank softly into her hip but with a firmness that showed the protectiveness inside him was growing. Sonny effortlessly pulled (Y/n) down to sit on his lap, his heart jumping at the sound of her surprised giggle before she made herself comfy against him.

"My girl here is off limits 'til tonight, right sweetheart?" Sonny locked eyes with the drunk pimp whilst he pressed his lips to (Y/n)'s neck, biting the sweet spot beneath her jaw just to feel her tremble against him like jelly.

(Y/n) could only find it in herself to nod along with his words, unable to speak while his lips were at work against her neck.

Her head tipped back against Sonny's shoulder and she placed light kisses against his neck, feeling a groan grumbling against his Adam's apple at the touch causing his arm to tighten around her waist. At least this way they could stay close and be comfortable with each other without worrying that they were going to draw the wrong kind of attention to themselves tonight.

It felt like hours had passed as more people buzzed into the house, grabbing drinks, spilling drinks, exchanging intimate kisses and touches and drunk girls giggling. (Y/n) had seen a few girls clock out of the room and disappear upstairs before coming back down trying to rearrange their hair and clothes, a few of them with saddened eyes and shaking limbs.

Downing the wine remaining in her glass, (Y/n) tipped her head further back against Sonny's shoulder and the back of the sofa, wishing they were at home instead of this pimp house that reeked of alcohol and drugs.

(Y/n) had shimmied from side to side, turning to make sure the camera in her necklace got a good view of everyone here and all the girls so they could find out who they were and make sure when they raided this place, everyone was accounted for.

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

Sonny couldn't keep a close eye on (Y/n) when the raid started.

He had tried to push her behind him the moment the others burst through the door and announced the house was under arrest. He knew that (Y/n) didn't have her gun with her, she managed to tuck her badge into her tights just near her underwear since it was the only concealed place she had on her. But she didn't have anywhere to stash her gun, the dress would outline the bulky weapon too easily and it couldn't exactly stay down her cleavage with the dress being low cut and people constantly leering at her.

But somewhere along the line she had moved from behind him to tackle a pimp trying to run through the kitchen to make a break for his escape and Sonny was too preoccupied on pinning and cuffing the man he had tackled to the floor.

"What are you doing, come on we need to get out!" a girl in a skimpy leaf green dress grabbed (Y/n)'s hand and tried to pull her up the stairs, hoping no officers were there so she could climb out a window and make a break for the streets. All the girls had their own safe places to go and meeting points to get back to their pimps or other working girls.

"The officers will keep you safe, they're not here to hurt you." (Y/n) held the girl's hand, smiling gently to try encourage her down to Olivia.

"I don't know who your fancy man is, but mine won't bail me out if I get caught. W-what are you doing?"

A spark of fear tremored in the girl's stomach when (Y/n) shook her head and reached under her dress to grab her badge.

"If he loved you, he wouldn't sell you for two crumpled notes. Why live like this when you can take a hand and get proper help?" (Y/n) didn't exactly wait for an answer, she used the girl's stunned silence to shock her and drag her down the stairs towards Olivia. The girl was going to protest, it was clear as day in her eyes but (Y/n) didn't have time to debate with her whether she thought she deserved any better than this life.

Bypassing Olivia very swiftly, the girl dodged past Amanda and Sonny and ran through the kitchen, only turning her head when she heard (Y/n)'s voice behind her and saw one of the men beckoning her to hurry and follow him to escape.

Sonny's head snapped to the left when a gunshot rang through the air making them all stop, wondering who started firing again.

A gut-wrenching sound left his lips when he watched (Y/n)'s head snap back towards her back and her body tumbled backwards as if someone had given her a shove off the edge of a cliff. The way she crumbled to the tiled floor made bile jump up Sonny's throat as tears fell from his eyes.

She was shot.

Silent prayers rattled round his head as he skidded and stumbled on the polished floor, discarding his gun before he headed towards his girl. He could see the blood trickling down the side of her head and starting to drip onto the floor like a leaky tap.

"Baby? Oh Doll can you hear me? Baby... baby!"

Sonny's voice trembled but got louder and louder with each syllable until he was almost screaming the words at her begging for her to open her eyes and look at him or wake up or move a finger, just do something. His hands shook as he cupped her face in his palms, trying to see where she had been shot.

Moving his fingers, Sonny dabbed his fingertip against the left side of (Y/n)'s temple, parting her hair so he could see the damage. She was breathing, he could hear the soft scraping noise of air leaving her nostrils but when she fell, he could have sworn the bullet had gone to her head and no one could survive that, surely.

Her hair was soaking with blood, each strand was turning dark rouge, sticking to his fingers like smudged ink or jam and making it harder for him to part her hair to see her scalp and assess the damage. Sonny growled before letting go of (Y/n)'s face and using both hands to part her hair, seeing there was a long gash on the side of her head an inch above her ear. She hadn't been shot like he thought, the bullet had scraped deeply against her head but it wasn't lodged into her skull or skin.

The breath of utter relief that Sonny let out came as a choked cry before he went back to cradling (Y/n)'s face in his hands, smoothing his bloodied thumbs over her skin.

"I need a bus!" He snapped his jaw like a crocodile before his tone changed and he looked back to (Y/n). "Baby... wake up doll, come back round to me."

Scanning his eyes around him, Sonny sat back on his heels and ripped the bottom of his shirt, scrunching it up before he pressed it to the side of (Y/n)'s temple. He had to keep the blood flow at a minimum until she got to the hospital and got the care she needed. He brushed the hair from her face, holding back from shaking her shoulder in a desperate attempt to wake her.

A breathless noise left Sonny's lips when (Y/n)'s eyes slowly started to flutter like the wings of a butterfly. He could see she couldn't get her vision in focus but her lips parted and a dry, croaky gurgle vibrated against her throat and a dribble of blood trickled down her lips.

"Baby, I've got you it's all gonna be okay... baby?"

Sonny couldn't quite work out the look on (Y/n)'s face, her eyes were half lidded, her lips were spitting blood and groaning but it was the way her muscles pinched at the cheeks and her lips moved into a wobbling shape like she was made of wax and starting to melt. He could see (Y/n)'s hand trying to move but she couldn't find the ability or energy to move it properly, only shake it an inch from the ground, her fingers curled at odd angles, shuffling and seeming to indicate to her head.

"You're hurt Doll but I'm gonna take care of you, shh doll don't- what?" Sonny gently took hold of her hand and lowered it back to her side, he didn't know what she was trying to point at or do but she didn't need to burn energy trying to move. She had to stay still in case she had any nerve damage to her head or neck.

Such a noise like a mewling kitten trying to scream left her lips and her face contorted into one of agony making Sonny's heart break deep in his chest.

She couldn't hear him.

(Y/n) was trying to scream, to talk, to make any noise she could but she couldn't hear herself or anything around her. His words weren't comforting because they weren't reaching her ears.

"Okay Doll, let's get you help."

He had to get her outside and see if any medics were about to help, he had to find someone to help her, she'd been shot for God's sake.

Taking extreme car when moving his hands behind (Y/n)'s head and neck, he slowly shifted her head so it was leaning against his shoulder, the rag of shirt pressing to her wound now trapped between her head and his shoulder to keep stemming the blood flow. He could feel her chest vibrating, trying to make some noise and show she was awake and in immense pain but her voice was too quiet for him to make out what she was trying to say.

Sonny slowly slipped an arm under her knees, his other arm protectively and strongly around her upper back before he cradled her to his chest like he was protecting an endangered child.

"I need a medic here! Don't worry Doll, you'll be okay."

#sonny carisi #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi imagine #imagine #dominic x reader #dominic carisi imagine #dominic carisi #Olivia Benson #Amanda Rollins #law and order #law and order svu

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xoshepard · 3 months

Text

WIP Whenever

tagged by @stormikins thank you!!! ❤️

Ladies night on the Citadel!

—

“What’s the occasion?” Ashley said, eyeing the plunging neckline of Shepard’s dress, eyebrows rising as she noticed that the dress cut off mid-thigh.

“Tali invited me out to dance,” Shepard said plainly, while an idea brewed in her mind.

“You dance?” Ashley asked flatly, raising an eyebrow.

“More importantly, Chief, do you dance?”

“Oh, I dance.”

“And I assume you have clubbing clothes?”

“Of course I do.”

“Great, meet me and Tali at the hotel in 10 minutes.”

Shepard headed to the hotel, where Tali was waiting for her. Although her suit was the same, she had a few adornments, including a silver chain around her waist with small blue gems.

“Since I’m on my pilgrimage, I can’t really spend any money on suit adornments,” Tali said, slightly dejectedly while appraising Shepard’s outfit. “I got this chain from my mother… But you look incredible!”

“Thanks, Tali,” Shepard replied with a smile. “Hey, we should go shopping before we leave here, my treat!”

“Shepard, please, it's enough that I get a room and food for free, not to mention my Alliance stipend.”

“Come on, I insist. That stipend isn’t enough anyway, but the Admiral wouldn’t listen when I tried to argue that you should have more.”

“No, Shepard, you’re too nice. But… It would be nice to get some gold paneling and cloth… just for special occasions…”

“Great! We’ll go before the week is over.”

“Alright,” Tali said, the glowing outlines of her eyes narrowing into a smile. “Ready to go?”

“Actually-” Shepard started, but stopped as she saw Ashley approaching them, dressed in a simple, but effective, strapless top and fitted black jeans combo.

“Woo!” Shepard yelled. “You look hot, Chief!”

“Shut up,” Ashley said, rolling her eyes, but smiling. She grabbed Shepard’s arm. “Where the hell did you fit your pistol?”

“Your what?” Tali cried.

“You don’t think she has a gun on her?”

“What does she need her gun for?”

“Protection,” Shepard said flatly, inching up her skirt so that they could see the pistol, in its compact form, sitting neatly in a holster that was strapped to her leg.

“Keelah, protection from what? Sloppy drunks? Let’s just go.”

—

tagging @nowandthane @continuous-spec and @vorchagirl if you guys want to!!

#tag game #tirah writes #moot point tag #thank you again for the tag Dot!!! :)

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saintsmith · 14 days

Text

Korleth scrambled through the tight autorat chute, richly-bejeweled ring clutched in his large Dromag fist. Even full-grown now, he was still somehow small enough – just barely – to squeeze through these tunnels meant for the small thaumechanical sweepers. Good thing, too – they made excellent escape routes, and connected most of Derthn.

He needed to crawl far enough away – to some adjacent district of an adjacent district – to evade any pursuers, as well as shake off the noses of the autohounds. They followed a different network of tunnels, more accommodating to their larger size, so he wouldn’t run into any down here.

Raam, it was scorching in here. These tunnels must run adjacent to the geothermal systems for this district. It didn’t help that the blasted autorats had a tendency to run hot.

Shit, there goes one now. Korleth arched up his back and spread his arms and legs wide to let the autorat pass under him. It barely fit, chafing his front as it went by. He’d lost too many tunics to these bastards tearing through them as they ran by like this.

A little farther along he thought, This should be far enough. He turned a corner and –

He hit his head hard, ruffling his scarlet hair. He looked up to see a welded grate blocking the tunnel. That hadn’t been there last time he’d come this way. Damn Architects. Fine. Have it your way. Korleth backed out and started crawling farther, towards the next district over.

After another few minutes in that hot, cramped tube, Korleth found another exit side-tunnel. He turned to follow it and pushed open the vent to the outside.

And his head was almost crushed by the lumbering foot of an autotrunk.

He ducked his head back just in time and hid inside as the huge thaumechanism and its entourage of thaumechanics passed the vent, his heart pounding. Once he was sure the sounds of footsteps had passed, he pushed open the vent again and crawled out.

As he dusted the metal shavings and dust off of his tunic, he glanced at the passersby across the street giving him brief notice. They had no connection to the district he’d just stolen the ring from, and besides, a tiny Dromag crawling out of an autorat tunnel was probably not the weirdest thing they’d seen today.

Keeping it shielded from the rest of the city, he opened his fist and made sure the ring was still intact. The dozen or so tiny jewels smiled at him with their sparkling facets, but the big one at the center all the more so – a perfectly-round carnelian thoughtstone, a vague light gently throbbing inside the dark red gem. This one would fetch a pretty penny – probably. He had no way of knowing what the thoughtstone said.

He looked up to see what district he was in. Judging by the address numbers he supposed it was Residential-Four. Kids swung from artificial brass trees in the miniscule gardens of these middle-class apartments. Tenvo tended to the bioluminescent fungal crops bursting from the transplanted soil. Others were hanging their laundry out to dry, tunics and cloaks and turban-cloths and undergarments. One of them, apparently a mother with an infant on her hip as she struggled to one-hand the clothespins, stopped a moment to wave at Korleth. He supposed that was good – he didn’t stand out as not belonging there, despite his rather drab attire. He waved back with his free hand.

Who was the local fence? In Res-Four it would be…Zrikr. A miserly old Dromag. But he might have Aajakiri connections who could appraise the thoughtstone. Korleth again examined the nearby address-markers, engraved into the brass lintels of the apartment’s front doors. Res-4-Hrem-15-22. Res-Four. Subdistrict Hrem. Area fifteen. Level twenty-two. Zrikr shouldn’t be far – in this subdistrict, at least. Korleth wracked his brain. Area six, level twenty-nine, if he recalled correct. It would take some walking up-town and an elevator ride, but nothing he couldn’t manage in a half-light. He stuffed his hands – ring carefully in fist – in his tunic’s front-pocket, and started up the street.

He followed an autoshell for a while, head bowed like an thaumechanic, until its six skittering legs walked it into an autoshell tube, collapsing into its carapace so that it could roll on hidden wheels through the tunnel. Then he carried on alone, seamlessly switching from slow thaumechanic piety to the lazy stride of a normal citizen. Blessedly there was an elevator in area five – there were elevators in every fifth area of a subdistrict – so it only took crossing a single area after descending to level twenty-nine to arrive in Zrikr’s area.

There were signs, if you knew what to look for, that could point you towards a clan fence. Subtle etchings in the walls of the caverns. Only clan members could interpret them. Korleth had more or less been born into the clan, he was adopted so young. So he followed the signs to the seemingly abandoned apartment they indicated.

He knocked on the door, a harsh rhythmic rap that signaled clan membership. After a minute or so the door cracked open to reveal a pair of red-flecked black eyes, Dromag eyes. The door closed for a moment, then opened all the way. A tall, stocky Dromag stood in the doorway, her beard styled like a cage around her mouth, individual braids stiffened upwards in arcs like prison bars. A Silencer – clan bruisers. Korleth took careful note of the thick, barely-tapered stone club in her hand.

“Speak,” said the Silencer, leaning against the door frame, arms crossed with club in tow.

“Here for Zrikr,” answered Korleth. “Got something for him.”

“Delivery or merchandise?”

“Merchandise.” Korleth half-revealed the ring in his pocket to the Silencer. She nodded and went back inside, closing the door behind her.

Another minute passed until the door opened again. This time the Silencer stood to the side to let Korleth in. He gave her a curt nod as he passed, but she only returned with a puff of air from her nostrils, rattling the bars of her beard-cage.

It smelled heavily of gridc smoke in here; a filmy haze of it lingered in the air. The apartment appeared inside as it did outside – abandoned. Almost all the furniture was overturned, dusty, moldy, and cobweb-stricken. And it was not even of consistent organization, seeming to have too many of some articles, and not enough of others. There were only a few relatively clean and upright pieces: a brass cushionless couch, which the Silencer sat on when she wasn’t answering the door or Silencing, and a desk in the back with a small wheeled chair, also of brass. Its occupant sat with his back turned to the door, but when Korleth approached he swiveled around to face him.

In that chair and at that desk sat a wiry old Dromag, puffing on a claypipe. As Korleth approached, he noticed that the claypipe was ornamented with intricate brass inlays – or was it gold? The room was too dim to be able to tell for sure, and Korleth was no metallurgist. Most he ever got ahold of was silver, since the damned Temple hoarded most of the gold jealously. Zrikr played a dangerous game if he decorated something so mundane as a claypipe with the precious metal. They could send Saints after him to confiscate it, or worse.

“Aye?” said Zrikr, not removing the claypipe from his lips as he did so.

“Venerable Zrikr,” began Korleth with the typical clan salute for elders, a spreading of the mustache with the index finger and thumb. “I come to offer merchandise.”

Zrikr slowly pulled the pipe from his mouth, put it out, and laid it down gently on the desk. “Very well. Come closer so I can take a look. Lay out your product.”

Korleth obeyed, stopping inches from the front of the desk. He removed the ring fully from his pocket and began to set it down on the desk –

Zrikr grabbed Korleth’s ring-bearing wrist. “Do my old eyes deceive me, tenv?” He squinted his eyes at Korleth’s face. Korleth managed to maintain his outward composure, but his tongue rolled across the back of his sharp teeth anxiously. “You the old Baron Cemming’s kid? That autorat he picked up off the street? Glorious prodigy of the clan?” He tightened his grip, but his eyes roamed in recollection. “Korleth, is it?”

“Yes, Venerable Zrikr,” said Korleth smoothly, but between his teeth. “Maybe not so many words are needed.”

“Maybe not, maybe not,” said Zrikr. “I knew old Cemming when we were lads. He was a whip of a tenv, but he knew his shit. Took good care of his people. Not like those gasbags in charge now.” He smiled, revealing teeth too sharp for a Dromag this old. He must sharpen them daily, Korleth thought idly. “I hope you’ve got the old tenv’s same measure.”

Zrikr released Korleth’s wrist. “Now, what have you here, young tenv?”

“Thoughstone ring,” said Korleth, finally able to lay the jewelry down on the desk. “Carnelian with orbital rubies and citrines.”

“Carnelian thoughtstone,” said Zrikr, picking up the ring and holding it close to his rheumy black eyes. “What ever will they think of next?” He examined the ring entire for a minute before setting it back down. “Gems are well cut. Silversmithing is of high quality. Couldn’t tell you shit about the ‘stone.”

“Do you have an Aajakiri associate who could appraise it?” asked Korleth.

“You take me for an amateur, tenv?” said Zrikr coldly. Korleth could hear the slap of the Silencer’s club on her palm. Zrikr glanced at her and shook his head. “Yes, yes. I have a damn Aaj on the payroll. Give me some time to ask her about it. Couple days maybe.”

“Advance?”

“Of course,” said Zrikr, his smile wicked. He reached into the desk, pulled out a wrapped parcel, and handed it to Korleth. Korleth opened it halfway to peek inside: it was a half-loaf of dense mushroom-and-nut bread, the nuts few and far between in a tight matrix of grey-green grain. It barely fit snug in Korleth’s palm. “That should keep you ‘til I hear back.”

Shellshit, Korleth thought, but he played it cool. Zrikr didn’t seem like the type of tenv you messed with – you didn’t get this old in the clan without a bodycount. And Korleth certainly didn’t want to get on the wrong side of that Silencer’s club. “Yes, Venerable Zrikr. Thank you.”

“Now off with you,” said Zrikr with a wave. He picked up his claypipe and used a thaumechanical sparker to light the bowl again. “Disturbing my smoke time.”

Korleth obeyed, and left. He didn’t bother nodding at the Silencer this time.

#my setting #my worldbuilding #aurenna #my writing #dromag #korleth #derthn #norkhec

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fioreofthemarch · 1 year

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The Great From the Ground Up Re-Edit

Finally announcing this!!

Over the past few months, I have completely re-edited my Breath of the Wild longfic From the Ground Up.

Since I finished FTGU in 2017 I’ve known I wanted to give it a refresh. It was written very fast and as a result lacks cohesion and has many formatting/spelling errors.

I will not be changing the plot. The edit focuses on the MANY opportunities to improve continuity, dialogue, location descriptions, characterisation and pacing. There is also new content where I felt scenes and ideas could be expanded upon, about once every other chapter. The original will be preserved if you really want to read it.

The changes will be made on May 5th.

I’m really excited to share what I’ve done with everyone!! As a short preview, here is a new scene in Chapter 7.

The next dawn found them at the gates of Gerudo Town; two Hylian Vai, one of whom wasn’t much of the a talker and the other brimming with excitement to be let in after a century away. Even so early the plaza was buzzing, the Gerudo and travellers taking full advantage of the morning’s cooler hours.

Merchants lined the long plaza street and were hocking their wares to any who passed. Under the palm trees that ran the length of the plaza, pairs of Gerudo stood gossiping, while others rested in the shade. Nearby, Gerudo children were splashing in tiled pools of water beneath the palms. There were Hylians too, and a Rito woman shopping for enchanted arrows, even a Goron among the gathered people of the plaza. Zelda felt her eyes glisten with tears to see it; she had forgotten, somehow, how at home she felt in this place.

Beyond, the palace apartments loomed, home to Chief Riju. Zelda knew little about the her, only that she was young – barely a teenager – but fearsome and brave. But their meeting would have to wait. Zelda wanted to enjoy the rest of their morning.

“Mother brought me here every chance she could,” Zelda told Link as they walked a loop of all the stalls. “The first hint of autumn and we would be off in the royal carriage for Gerudo. I remember I once asked her if Lady Urbosa our relative. I thought she and mother must be sisters, because why else would we visit so often? I suppose now I know that mother just wanted an escape. Even for a little while.”

Link didn’t say anything in response, and if he had any expression at all it was mostly hidden behind his Gerudo veil. But for a moment he paused, appraising her with what seemed like sympathetic eyes.

“I know what you’re going to ask. I have no intention of escaping myself, we still have so much work to do,” Zelda said. “Though a real holiday could be nice. Somewhere by the sea, like Lurelin.”

“Lurelin it is,” Link affirmed.

They had stopped outside a shop that Zelda didn’t recognise, and before Zelda could continue their conversation, a high and energetic call filled the air.

“Va’saaq! Fine wears of every kind at Starlight Memories Jewelery! Made with the best materials in Hyrule!”

OIt was a glamorous Gerudo woman, dressed tip to toe in intricate golden and green clothes and accessorised with precious gems of all colours. She positively sparkled in the bright desert light, and Zelda was immediately captivated.

The woman noticed them staring and laughed. “Come in, little vai! I have some earrings with your name on them!”

“M-me?” Zelda spluttered. “I couldn’t– we don’t even have many rupees and–”

“Wait a minute,” the Gerudo woman narrowed her eyes. “I remember you!”

The Gerudo woman laughed again. She strode over and held out a hand — to Link.

“You, mysterious vai! Link was it? Funny name. It’s me, Isha! I must thank you again. My shop thrives because of your generosity!” She shook his hand with vigour. “You must come see the new inventory. Your discount still applies of course, perhaps you’d like to purchase something for your friend, teehee.”

They followed the eager woman inside to what Zelda surmised was a jewellery store. “You helped open a shop?” she murmured.

“I gave her some flint I had lying around,” Link shrugged. “It didn’t take long, I swear.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m glad that you helped people.”

They stepped into the jewellers shop, which shone nearly as bright as Isha herself; circlets, earrings, bracelets, rings and belts in all colours and makes were on display. The store was already busy enough that it was a wonder Isha was trying to find more customers; at the counter, a Hylian traveller was haggling over a diamond circlet, while two Rito waited to pay for a pair of ruby rings, and in the far corner was a goron, carrying what looked like a spyglass and examining some of the goods up close.

Under his veil, Zelda sensed that Link was smiling. “I did,” he breathed. "I helped."

Isha was rummaging around behind one of the counters, but popped up briefly to address the Goron. “So what’ll it be Kairo, do we have a deal?”

“I gotta say I’m impressed!” said the goron. “I didn’t know my ore could sparkle like this.”

“Well look all you like, but I won’t let you leave Gerudo until we have a deal for regular supply. You bring me gems from Eldin, I can turn them into fine goods for you to sell on the road.”

The goron rubbed his chin. “I dunno. I wouldn’t really know how to sell this stuff… Let me think it over.”

Isha threw up her hands, and disappeared back behind the counter, reappeaing a few moments later with a small white box. “Here we go, special stock for my favourite vai.”

Approaching Link and Zelda, Isha held out the prized box with an excited grin, pushing it into Link’s hands. “Go on, open it. And if you don’t like them, they’ll go lovely with your friend’s eyes.”

Isha nodded towards Zelda, who could not help but blush.

Inside were two earrings of deep amber, cut with exquisite precision, their shape resembling that of autumn leaves. Zelda felt a strange energy radiating from them, as though the air around them was thicker somehow. Link picked one of the earrings up and held it to the light; flecks of orange hues caught a sunbeam and were scattered all around them.

“Look, I was going to charge, but these are on the house. Another thanks. I really couldn’t have done any of this without you,” Isha said. “Just don’t tell the other customers?

Link nodded, and carefully closed the box. “Anytime,” he said.

There was a crash behind them, and a gasp from the goron trader, who admittedly was a little too large for a store so full of delicate wares.

“Kairo!” Isha shouted, turning her full attention now back to the goron. “I said look, don’t touch!” And then she was hurrying back to the counter, stopping just long enough to wave to Link and Zelda as they departed.

“Sav’otta! Tell your friends about us! Soon there’ll be a shop like this in every town in Hyrule!”

Outside, the midday heat was rising, and even the shade of the palms and the cool waters of the plaza could not ward off the power of the desert sun. There was no delaying any longer. They stored in the amber earrings in the Sheikah Slate inventory, and headed towards the palace apartments to find Riju.

#my writing #ftgu #botw #botw fanfiction #tloz fanfiction #i originally said may 1st but still have extra finishing touches to do!!#legend of zelda #tloz

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yeehanfrf · 1 year

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Week 8 Recs: Middle of the Road

The Week 8 theme was "Middle of the Road," or those fics that are just long enough to spend some quality time with but not too long: 10,000 to 25,000 words. Behind the cut, you'll find the recs gathered from the Yeehan community, organized by rating and then alphabetically by title!

General Audiences

The Silences We Dare to Break by illune [15,500 words] Reccer comment: "This is an underrated gem that I feel not only Yeehan shippers but also Gabe Reyes enjoyers might like."

Once a year, Cole Cassidy is forced to face the fact that not all of his loved ones are resting peacefully in his memories. To his surprise Hanzo is willing to listen to his woes, if only for a brief moment.

Teen and Up

Autoclave by SaltCore [11,867 words] Reccer comment: "how much do you want your feelings hurt in under 12k words?"

Hard choices are a necessity in this line of work—Genji learned that years ago. But necessity doesn’t make those choices easier, especially when he has to watch someone else pay the price. He wants his brother and brother-in-arms in any state but dead, but it's a matter of Hanzo paying.

Blue Skies by helo572 [13,555 words]

A trip to Nepal sees Cassidy trying to keep him and an injured Hanzo safe when they are lost in the snow.

Mature

Foxhole Dreaming by fishpoets [18,569 words] Reccer comment: "some whump, lots of pining, and there was only! one! bed!!"

After Hanzo and McCree are ambushed on an undercover mission and McCree is injured, they need to hide out in a secret bunker that McCree knows of while they wait to be rescued. The prospect of a few days in close-quarters alone with McCree wouldn't be a problem, except for one thing: Hanzo's feelings for the gunslinger don't stop at friendship.

Frozen Doll by hunahuna_un [14,066 words]

"Hunger pulled Jesse towards the river, bringing him closer and closer to somethin' a whole lot tastier than fish. Though, as he'd immediately realize, it was a completely different kind of tasty."

Asked my partner for summary, hope you like it. xD

Story about Shapeshifter McCree & Winter Fae Hanzo.

Work of Fiction by sksNinja [12,609 words]

Hanzo Shimada is a reputable Japanese historian and a well known antique appraiser. He lives in finely decorated a single unit apartment. He keeps tabs on his unruly younger brother, and attempts to keep him in line.

Hanzo is a functioning and contributing member of society.

His weakness for Romance Novels is irrelevant.

Explicit

Crooked Stems by Interrobang [13,465 words] Reccer comment: "adorable and charming and, as he put it, 'the only strip club AU in which neither main character is actually a stripper,' lol."

Hanzo had made a life for himself, and quite frankly he was content with it. He was almost 40. He was tired from a youth spent in too many family meetings about too many political escapades. He just wanted to sit in a cold room with thousands of dollars’ worth of flowers and watch his florist business flourish.

He didn’t need anything shaking that up.

AKA the only Strip Club AU in the world in which neither of the main characters is actually a stripper. Featuring Chef Jesse McCree, Florist Hanzo, and too many innuendos.

A Man Is His Actions by etlagiapet [23,722 words] Reccer comment: "A cool take on Hanzo and Cole's first meeting! Uses the old name"

It’s been five months since Shimada Hanzo arrived at the Gibraltar base, and Jesse McCree still can’t look him in the eye without grimacing. He tries, because he promises Genji he will, but no matter how much he wishes he could forgive and forget, Jesse just can’t accept Hanzo and what he did to his own brother. He can’t tear the man away from his actions, no matter how different he is now and how long it’s been since.

Except there's more to Hanzo than Jesse realizes - more to the story of the Shimada brothers than he was privy to - and a reappearance of a mentor thought long dead throws everything Jesse thinks he knows about himself and what he believes in into chaos.

Nantaimori by ChillieBean [15,403 words] Reccer comment: "what's better than hanzo eating sushi off cass? (answer: nothing)"

It had been months in the making, and it was supposed to be a straightforward night: Be Hanzo Shimada's personal waiter, gather intel on a potential partnership with a neighbouring clan, get out without making any waves.

Cole's plans come to a crashing halt when he is asked instead to be the nantaimori—to lie naked for the duration of the meeting while Hanzo eats sushi off him.

Pine Woods by coinin [14,659 words] Reccer 1 comment: "a lovely funny fic about the duo hiding out in a curious cabin. Things get steamy, literally and figuratively."

Reccer 2 comment: "Whenever I read this, I just want to go on a winter vacation"

After a mission goes awry, Cassidy and Hanzo are forced to flee into the Finnish wilderness. Will they find shelter before they freeze to death? And more importantly, what are they going to do to stave off boredom if they do find safety?

Plan B by urgaylol [15,261 words]

Hanzo and McCree ask the age old question of "What the hell happened last night?"

Tell Me Yer Name by kylar [23,161 words] Reccer comment: "a smutty fic about blackwatch cass & yakuza hanzo"

Hanzo escapes the castle for a breath of fresh air following a particularly difficult day with the clan, and finds one in a mysterious, handsome American cowboy that instantly earns Hanzo's attention. Hanzo knows from subtle clues that his presence in Hanamura could mean trouble for his clan and himself, but that doesn't stop him from carrying on a secret affair with the charming cowboy. It's just a fling though, and he knows it will end eventually. He'll be able to put the cowboy behind him and continue on with his responsibilities and duties to the Shimada Clan. Little does he know, it won't be that easy, and the cowboy's short presence in his life will have a dramatic and devastating impact on everything that is to follow their little affair.

And that's a wrap on Week 8! Thank you so much to everyone who submitted a fic rec. Stay tuned for the Week 9 theme: "I'm Working, Here," or favorite works in progress!

In the meantime, you can also check out the Week 7 recs here or check the list of past and future themes here!

#yeehan #yeehan fic rec friday #yeehanfrf #cole cassidy #hanzo shimada #overwatch fanfiction #author: illune #author: SaltCore #author: helo572 #author: fishpoets #author: hunahuna_un #author: sksNinja #author: Interrobang #author: etlagiapet #author: ChillieBean #author: coinin #author: urgaylol #author: kylar #week 8

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