#before he is called forth by the elders. after he's reunited with her after his banishment. and when she's walking away from him smile

[gillionmeowstrider]

echoes of an older sister

#gillion tidestrider #edyn tidestrider #jrwi riptide #jrwiblr #jrwi show #jrwi fanart #i felt like emotionally destroying myself via the tidestrider siblings tonight #(ive been working on this on and off for weeks lol) #look man #erm #they get better (? maybe?) #fun detail: edyn is always facing gillion except in the final illustration! while gillion only faces her three times #before he is called forth by the elders. after he's reunited with her after his banishment. and when she's walking away from him smile

[hongssami]

Intro: Long Journey (From Mist to Wave) [TEASER] - Seonghwa

Pairing: Dragon Shapeshifter! Seonghwa / witch apprentice! Reader Genre: Fantasy, Dragon Shapeshifter AU, Adventure, kind of Comedy Fluff and a bit of Angst i guess Synopsis: After the ambush led by the notorious dragon tamer group, Dreamers, brothers Seonghwa and Yeosang get separated from the silver dragon clan’s lair, Mist. In his attempt to regroup with his dragon clan, Seonghwa stumbles upon you, the Witch of the Woods’s curious yet clumsy apprentice. He finds himself falling behind schedule with a sprained foot and a broken wing; and with a suspected rising threat, he figures he should remain in his human form in the meantime, so no flying. Would he be able to heal his broken wing and warn the other horned clans for the rising threat in time? Warnings: So Much Worldbuilding, white haired hwa, hwa's clan being attacked (not in detail), probably not-so-good pacing Teaser Word Count: 999 Projected Word Count: ~10-12k Release Date: tba 🧍‍♂️

A/N: ahahah hi here she is ! Part 1 of an untitled series (help me come up with a title for this AU!), naturally the next part will be Yeosang's. Please note that contents of this teaser may be subject to change in the final fic as I am still writing it (unfortunately) 🧍‍♂️ Hope this gets you excited for this universe !!

Taglist is open! Send an ask to be added :^D !

“FLY EASTWARDS AND DO NOT TURN BACK UNDER ANY CONDITIONS. I WILL FIND YOU ONCE IT’S SAFE. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME, YEOSANG?”

The chaos and shouting spreading amongst their clan does not waver Seonghwa’s stern voice as he addresses his brother. Yeosang has only ever seen him this serious after a disruptive stray drake had wandered up their mountain.

“Take care.” Yeosang nods, silently leaning his forehead on Seonghwa’s before he hesitantly takes off. They will reunite again soon, he’s sure of it. A flock of younglings follow him, their mothers undoubtedly telling them to leave for their safety as well.

On the ground, Seonghwa smells the human enchantments on flaming boulders before he even sees them. This was clearly foul play, and very unlike their neighboring human settlement. No man in his right mind would dare to face a whole clan of horned dragons, even if he had a whole army with him.

Unless they had found a weakness.

Another whiff of the air confirmed their enemy was not in fact their neighbors. Nobody would dare carry gunpowder on them around dragons unless they wished to coerce them to submission.

Of course, these were the so-called “Dreamers”. Dragon tamers.

The elders were right to be wary for today.

The lindworms of his land, always at the forefront of their battles, fought tooth and claw to ward away as many intruders as they could. A troublesome task since the tamers had put forth their cavalry first.

What they had not yet figured out was that the greedy humans did not mean to conquer, only hunt their horns for sport, as if to mock them. So, as the lindworms and wyrms and other flightless kin flung themselves bravely as the brunt of defenses for the lands of Mist, the winged all gathered to exhale a paralyzing gas designed to stun.

A cold silence was cast over the foot of the mountains. The cavalry had frozen. The warriors at the forefront slowly make their way back up the mountains to counsel with the others, albeit still cautious, they turn their back from the chaos. 

That is when the silver-horns start to collapse. For when the final wyrm had cast her eyes away from the battlefield, another wave began with their long-range attacks. Archers, and trebuchet projectiles, and enchanted flaming boulders fell upon the mountains of Mist.

Their flightless had already taken cover after the first wave of intruders. They shook the ground enough for trenches to form at the foot of Mist, keeping out as many intruders as they physically could. The winged had taken their spot as defenders while the rest of the children and elderly had no choice but to flee before the rain of arrows and boulders caught up to them.

Those few who lurked in the waters were not as fortunate - the sole lake in Mist was inhabited by the ancient and well-respected water snake, but he was not too kind on visitors.

The once united community of dragonkin on Mist had shattered almost instantly. 

Seonghwa was lucky he even made it out with only a broken wing to remember the day of his clan's fall.

... ..

THE FIRST THING SEONGHWA REMEMBERS WHEN HE COMES TO IS YEOSANG’S VOICE TELLING HIM HE’S SAFE. SEONGHWA HEAVES A SIGH OF RELIEF BEFORE HE DISCOVERS HIS UNINTENTIONAL SOLITUDE.

It’s close to nightfall. He knocked down a few trees when he crashed, heavens knew how long ago that happened. It seemed like the crash had done more harm to his already broken right wing too — the cartilage between his appendages ripped and the lower portions burnt and bruised.

The pelting rain against his scales serves him nothing but a calm distraction from the aching in the appendages of his right wing. He does not have any idea where the winds have taken him, only that he is under a dense overgrowth.

He blinks slowly, the rain winds threatening to shake him to his core if he did not seek shelter any time soon. Upon closer inspection of the plants and trees around him, and a quick glance at the setting sun, Seonghwa deduces he’s landed himself somewhere in the East.

Hopefully not too far from the bronze-horns. The faster they’re warned of the threat the better.

A glance above the treetops grants a peak of a small human town, their streetlights shine like little fireflies against the darkening horizon. He spots people donning raincoats and carrying umbrellas as they go about their last minute errands of the day. And if he leaned a little closer, he would hear the overlapping conversations from where he had rested his head on the crown of a particularly tall tree, but he chooses not to.

It was far too risky to parade as a dragon after that raid.

So he sinks into himself, willing himself to at least take a few steps toward the nearest tree so he could lean on it. Polymorphing into his human form hurts more now that he’s essentially injured his entire arm, but he endures it with a few hisses and groans escaping his chapped lips. It has been quite a while since he’s done this.

He didn’t really have the need to be in his human form back in Mist. Everyone had always been more comfortable living in the hides and scales they were born with, although the children would have a period of their lives where they just loved shifting from dragon to human. He supposes it’s for the best that he had not shown himself as human publicly after his turning of age now that a danger was looming over the heads of the horned dragons.

He’s exhausted. He does not have the faintest idea where he is or how he’s going to find Yeosang. His arm hurts like hell and he makes his way toward the human village cradling it close.

At least this way he won’t fall over trying to balance himself with a broken wing.

(note: next update for this fic will be character sheets and a map :O, the same map in the header!)

#ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #park seonghwa scenarios #seonghwa scenarios #park seonghwa imagines #seonghwa imagines #atz scenarios #atz imagines #seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa fluff #ateez fanfic #ateez fantasy au #hwa long journey #hello again i am writing for ateez now ?!??!???!? #anw if this interests you just WAIT for the character sheets/lore drop 🤩🤩🤩 #watch as i give up on writing this in paragraph form and switch to bulletpoint gdsgdfg #chips and chunks

[daisycakes254]

Captured Cup Chapter Three: Packing and Planning

Mugman was running as fast as his legs could go he was running away from Cuphead. Mugman slowly came to a stop realizing what he’d done. “Why did I do that?!” “Running away from my own brother!” Mugman began to pace back and forth “I-i gotta save him…” Mugman said as he started to walk in the direction he came. “…But I don’t know where King Dice took Cuphead” Mugman said turning around.

What was he supposed to do…what would Cuphead do? Mugman thought to himself.

“Cuphead would charge in without thinking without knowing where he was going and probably get lost.” Mugman said turning around once more and setting off to go find his brother! “But I’m not Cuphead and I’m going to pack and plan for this!” But Mugman wasn’t prepared for what was coming.

“Did you hear that little mugboy he just had a whole conversation by himself and frankly it was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen” a voice said.

Another voice spoke “No I didn’t hear and I don’t care what he had to say” “Oh you’re no fun that little boy seems distressed and we should help him” “No we shouldn’t.” “Too late we’re gonna help him”

Mugman was walking to the front door of the cottage not knowing what Elder Kettle was doing was he napping or was he worried sick about Cuphead and Mugman for being out so late Mugman took a deep breath and opened the door and walked inside.

“Hello Mugman where is your brother?” Mugman froze “O-oh hey Elder Kettle I’m doing great but I wanna get some reading done so I’m gonna go to my room and read.” Elder Kettle raised an eyebrow “that’s nice you wanna get some reading done but I wanted to know where your brother is” Mugman was really nervous and wasn’t doing a good job at hiding it he fumbled over his words. “W-well ya see C-cuphead is well we” Mugman sighed “While Cuphead and I were at the m-maze Cuphead ran into his friends and he wanted to hang with them but he promised he would be home before dinner so…there is absolutely nothing to worry about.” Mugman smiled awkwardly after rushing upstairs.

Mugman had pulled out every map he could find on the Inkwell Isles trying to figure out where King Dice might of taken Cuphead.

After frantically searching for hours Mugman heard a knock he looked at the door and opened it no one was there Mugman closed the door with confusion. “I must be seeing things…” Mugman said as he sat back down but there it was again someone was knocking but not on the door so if not the door then it was the window! Mugman quickly climbed up to the top bunk. “Cuphead I missed you so much are you—who are you?” Instead of being reunited with his brother, Mugman saw two imps. “Umm Hello there I’m Miriam and this is my brother Micah…” Mugman didn’t answer he just moved to the side so his guests could come inside. “Are you letting us inside?” Mugman nodded “Oh ok then.” Micah and Miriam crawled in through the window. Mugman stood in front of his bed while the two imps stood in front of him.

“You are the cutest thing I’ve ever seen!!” Miriam said scooping Mugman up. “My goodness you’re so small!” “Please put me down.” “Hmm? oh sorry” she said putting Mugman down. Mugman looked up at the two tall imps the girl a bow on her right ear the bow also had a little flower in the center but it was very dirty. Mugman then looked at the boy he looked a lot like the girl but he had a scar over his left eye that looked like claw marks. “Umm who are you?” Mugman finally said. “Didn’t we already tell you?” “Doesn’t matter I’m Miriam but you can call me Miri for short and this is my brother Micah!” “We’re here to help!” Miriam said with a smile.

#my fic #Captured cup

[sunset-peril]

Successors - Chapter Two - The Songbird Warrior

*One Year Later*

~~~

"Oh, Mama! It's trembling again!" A blue and pink Rito peeped as she called her mother to the egg-filled nest. "That's the second time this hour!" 

"But of course! It's been a year since you laid." A pink and brown bird raised her head from the hammock.

"Oh, what would Revali be saying now?"

"That you should not be such a worrywart, Khosha!" She flapped her wings wide. "A hatching egg shall tremble, and that is nothing to concern over." Her talons clicked on the floor. "Specially, he would say you are being asinine." She sighed. "But that is not of concern. He's been gone a year, Khosha, and it's time for your egg to hatch. Please do not live in the past, he isn't there either." 

But Khosha's focus did not turn to her egg, but to Hyrule Castle in the distance. "The closer we've gotten, Mama, the more I've thought about her."

"Oh. How so?"

She sighed loudly. "It's been a year, Mama… she should have already had her baby; a beautiful, healthy, golden baby." Khosha glanced backwards. "I don't even know if she got out of that dangerous place, much less delivered a child as healthy as her effort deserved." Her egg rolled back and forth in her talons. "I guess it doesn't seem fair that I only lost my husband, but she lost so much more: her home, kingdom, husband, and quite possibly her child."

"The dead do not wish for you to mourn over their uncertainties."

"Oh, she was so little, Mama… so so little…" She poured over the words like a serenade. "but she had an ancient soul." 

The older woman's beak curved up slightly. "She sounds lovely."

"Did you ever see her? She came to the village several times." 

"A few. None as well as the last. I saw her when she came by just before the Calamity." She cooed out a chuckle. "Oh, she was so little… but that stomach of hers… hmm, that was a sight to behold. I don't think her husband appreciated my amusement though. He gave me the ugliest look." She imitated Link's steely glare. 

"He was not in a good mood that day. He was upset she was traveling instead of resting, and she'd been hurting earlier that morning."

"He had a good heart in him. Part of what made him the incarnation of protective, my theory. Hylia always takes the best sooner than we hope." 

"I bet the Princess is still missing him painfully."

"If she even survived. She might be up there with him, reunited with her dear mother."

"Mama, I know she's alive. I saw her."

"Oh, and where?" 

"The Castle. I… needed some closure soon after the Calamity, and flew there. I saw her in the throne room, Mama, just the way I saw her last, sitting on the throne with a great red Lynel at her feet that was streaked in black and purple like Malice. She didn't look like she'd aged a day, nor did her baby seem a day closer to coming, but she was cloaked in holy light." 

"Then she does seem alive, and in no need of our concern in this very moment." Khosha's mother gestured towards the egg rattling beneath Khosha's right foot. "Someone both alive and in our world would like your attention."

Finally, Khosha lowered her head from the window to focus on the hatching egg. "Hello? Is there a little Rito in there?"

A startlingly familiar beak pierced through the shell, sending cracks throughout the remaining areas before retracting. After that, the egg stopped moving, causing the two women to lower their beaks in curiosity.

"It just… stopped, Mama."

The shell split apart like an explosion, scattering fragments and revealing a tiny Rito with its wings outstretched.

"Revali?"

…

"It's like the Champion had a chick with himself!" The Elder exclaimed upon further examination.

"I've never seen this outside of the Hylian Royal Family!" 

The chick had since dried off from his egg into a noisy little poofball. To the amazement of the entire tribe, he was almost an exact copy of Champion Revali, except for the teal tips of his wings where his father had white.  

"His name is Revali the Second." His mother declared, bringing him closer to her chest. 

"Ah, what a joyous day is this!" The elder hooted. "To be gifted once again with our Champion just a year after his passing!" 

While the tribe gathered in celebration, heading to the Flight Range, Khosha and her mother lingered at the nest.

"He will lead a burdened life, that is for sure. His father's silhouette lies before him, and the world will try and get him to match it instead of casting his own, even if it is similar." 

Revali the Second glanced up from his mother's wings. Peep! Peep! 

"It's so strange…" 

"Perhaps Hylia knew you needed him to stay with you, even though he had to go with her. That is what she did for Zelda, is it not?"

"Yes." She wandered out to Revali's Landing, looking out towards the Flight Range. "And we'll make our mark, won't we, Revali?" She held the baby to the sky, whispering 'Look at your son…' before fastening him into a restraint, clasping the Great Eagle Bow and taking off. As she neared the Range, she prepared three bomb arrows and shot them into some of the targets her husband left behind, then landed with the same degree and style of fanfare he always had. And when she opened her beak to welcome the tribe in a way that he would, she could have sworn it was his voice and not her own.

"Impressive, I know."

Edited - 04/14/2024

#oc x canon #botw oc #rito oc #oc lore #fanfiction #booksivewritten #legend of zelda #breath of the wild #successors hfs #successors #hyrule's final stand #zelink #zelda botw #mentioned revali #mentioned pregnancy #pre botw #pregnancy #mentioned death #tw death mention #khosha #revali the second

[archonssun]

Uhm.....Hello!i love your writes,can i request little sister headcanons for Childe, Xiao, Noelle, and Mona....?

Of course! 

Little Sister HCs

characters: Childe, Xiao, Noelle, Mona

notes: oh. my. god. I got so carried away with Childe’s and Xiao’s, then Noelle’s and Mona’s are so short 😭😭😭  again, I AM SO SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG TT^TT I’m worried I didn’t write Noelle or Mona well, so I’d appreciate it if you guys would let me know what you thought about their parts 👉👈

CHILDE:

Ajax is the Shit-head Elder Brother, but everyone knows it’s all done with love is it tho

He spoils you

archons does he spoil you

like him, you’re the middle child (only two years younger than Ajax himself), and in his mind you two have to stick together against your older and younger siblings

And with your Cryo vision ...

well, let’s just say that when the two of you are fighting, Ajax ends up frozen more than once

as your older brother, he has a knack for pushing your buttons, inciting violence in his sister that is usually the most passive of people -- and he lived for it

On more than one occasion he would scare away potential lovers -- they all knew what that red mask meant and chose to stay away as soon as they saw it

You were his only younger sibling that knew of his Harbinger status, and for good reason -- having been blessed with a vision from the Tsaritsa herself, you had been recruited into the Fatui around the same time as your brother

Surprisingly, it was the Tsaritsa herself that taught you how to utilize your vision, showing you how best to call forth ice and snow and testing you with various weapons before you ultimately chose to fight with a bow like brother like sister kajslhdfs

As soon as Ajax rose to Harbinger status, you were placed under his watch more like you had to watch him, and had even traveled to Liyue with him

and when the whole Golden House incident happened?

You had never wanted to kick his ass so much

which is exactly what you did after he failed to summon Osial: you took him to a field far from the harbor and thoroughly handed him his ass

"Slow down, would ya?!” Your brother parried every strike you sent his way, which only proved to enrage you further. You scowled at the man, picking up the pace and striking him faster than he could counter or dodge.

“You are a verifiable dumbass! Did you really think that the Qixing and the Adepti would forsake the city they pledged their lives to protect?!” Your scowl deepened into a snarl as your fist connected with Ajax’s cheek, sending him tumbling to the dirt. “Or were you so blinded by your loss to the Traveler that you weren’t thinking?”

“Now that’s a little much, dontcha think, sis?” Ajax smiled. It was a smile you had seen thousands of times before, and it took you no time to know it was fake.

You leveled him with an icy glare, and he actually felt his body grow cold.

Oh wait, that was the ice you were currently encasing him in.

“You will be stuck here, frozen, until I deem you have learned your lesson,” you said simply, stuffing a hand in your pants pocket as you slipped on your Fatui mask and turned your back to your brother.

“Aw, come on, lil’ sis! That’s so cold!” Ajax whined, and you had to take a few deep breaths before you looked at him over your shoulder.

“That’s the idea, dipshit,” you growled, reveling in the fact that he flinched at your tone. With that, you turned back around to head back to the harbor when your brother’s whispered words drifted to your ears.

“You’re just as cold as Signora. How could I have let this happen?!”

Ajax yelped as a shard of ice thwacked him in the forehead, blood trickling down into his eye. He managed to catch the dangerous look on your face before you disappeared from view, and he swallowed past the fear he felt rising in his throat.

Uh oh. Think I might have teased her too much.

XIAO:

he is the��Over-Protective Elder Brother

he is immensely bitter that he missed such a substantial portion of your life, losing the chance to watch you grow up into a strong warrior

Xiao was taken from you when you were barely old enough to wield a weapon properly, so you grew up without him, until Morax had liberated your brother

before that point, you had survived under Morax’s watchful eyes, and the god was the one to teach you how to fight, even gifting you a Geo vision to wield as your own

when Morax freed your brother, you were the first person Xiao asked about. It had been many years since he had been taken from you, and he could only hope you were still alive.

“Xiao.” The sound of your voice had the Yaksha jumping to his feet, wide amber eyes meeting your own. Although you hadn’t grown up with him, you knew he wasn’t one to let emotions get the better of him. And yet, you noticed the tears welling in his eyes as you stood before him.

You approached him slowly, as if he were a scared animal, a gentle smile tugging at your lips. You stopped just a few feet in front of him, about to speak when your brother’s body barreled into you. His arms wrapped tightly around your back, the fingers gripping the back of your shirt trembling.

“It’s okay,” you whispered, the two of you sinking to the floor, just holding one another. You could feel his tears soaking into your shirt and you lifted a hand, running your fingers through his hair. It was something Guizhong would do to calm you when you were a child, and you r actions had Xiao sobbing even harder.

Xiao rarely let you leave his sight after the two of you were reunited

he was adamant that he go with you, no matter where you were going or what you were going to do

he knew you were a capable fighter, wielding a pole arm and a Geo vision much like your teacher

but he had already lost so much time with you

he didn’t want to lose any more time

Xiao would train with you, fight by your side, would listen raptly to all the stories you had been a part of while he was gone

he made promises a lot: promises to protect you, to stay with you no matter what

you were the only one other than the Traveler that he willingly stayed around

when you would wake from nightmares, Xiao was there to help chase them away

but when your older brother was the one suffering from nightmares, it was always you that helped ease the pain, whether it be by singing a soft tune or training with him to get his mind off of the nightmare

when Rex Lapis, ahem ... “died”, it had fallen to you to make sure Xiao didn’t completely shut himself off from others

and suffice it to say that when the mortal Zhongli appeared at Wangshu Inn three weeks later, you had immediately recognized your teacher.

“Xiao!” You beamed, tugging at your brother’s sleeve as a wide smile split your face. “Xiao!”

“What?” he growled, sharp amber eyes flitting to you. But your gaze was set on something else, something in front of the both of you, and when Xiao looked he felt his breath catch. Standing before you was a man Xiao would recognize even in death.

“It is good to see the both of you doing well.” Morax gave the both of you a delighted smile, resting a hand on your head. You were vibrating from the excitement that seeing your teacher -- alive -- brought, an excitement that, for once, was reflected in your brother’s smile.

NOELLE:

you were just a few years younger than your sister, and just like her you had been blessed with a vision

you couldn’t remember your parents; for as long as you could remember, it has just been you and Noelle

you worked with Lisa in the library, mostly organizing and reorganizing books and papers, as well as practicing using your Electro vision with the librarian

but every day, without fail, you and Noelle would meet for lunch. sometimes you had to drag your older sister away from work, but it was the one thing that never changed as you grew older.

you would help her get into the Knights of Favonious after all you had a few connections ;)

it wouldn’t happen right away nothing ever does :( but you wouldn’t give up until Noelle had a place with the Knights as something more than a maid

the two of you would be fiercely protective of one another, and would gladly maim someone if they were to endanger you

more often than not, it is Noelle’s Geo shield that protects your team from your haywire Electro manipulation

“Noelle!” You shouted over the thrum of battle, and in an instant everyone on the team had been shielded by your sister. Just as quickly, a wicked smile adorned your face and you coated your pole arm in Electro as you charged the gang of slimes.

In the time it takes someone to blink, you traversed the entirety of the battlefield, striking every enemy as you went. That is, until you hit one of the Pyro slimes, the resulting explosion knocking you from your feet. 

You cursed yourself, readying your weapon just as Noelle’s shield disappeared and the slimes that hadn’t been culled attacked you. You locked eyes with your sister, giving her a nod as she shielded herself and your teammates. You breathed a sigh of relief before steeling your nerves, coating your weapon in Electro once more.

Electro crackled in the air around you, bolts of it arcing off of you and your polearm and traveling to the ground. You didn’t have long, and so you struck the remaining enemies quickly.

As soon as the tip of your weapon touched the first slime, Electro energy exploded forth from your body and touched every slime surrounding you. You willed the energy to keep shocking the slimes until they had disappeared, and by then you could feel your skin prickling; could see the jagged markings appearing on your hands -- no doubt they were present on your legs, as well, but you didn’t have near enough energy to keep yourself standing.

Noelle was the first to reach you, one hand grasping your shoulder and helping you sit up. She frowned at the dazed look on your face, and immediately pulled you onto her back as she and the rest of the team made their way back to Mondstadt.

“You did amazing, (Y/n).”

Your eyes struggled to stay open, your brain fried from using too much Electro, and so you barely heard the praise fall from your sister’s lips. But it had a small smile tugging at your lips before you drifted into darkness.

MONA:

Oh boy...

Okay, so: both you and Mona were taken in by her master, but only Mona decided to learn under them. you were content as you were

you weren’t blessed with a vision like your older sister, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t fight: you had learned how to wield a blade by watching others around you

You would frequently travel with Mona when her master sent her on errands, chattering and laughing with her without a care in the world

but every time the two of you would run into trouble, the both of you would fall silent as you battled

There was only one time in all of your travels where you had come close to death

You had elected to jump between Mona and a Cryo slime, taking a hit to your side that momentarily made you freeze, and the slime had taken that opportunity to charge into you, sending you flying backwards into a tree

“(Y/n)! Are you alright?!” Mona was at your side in an instant, her gray eyes wide with worry. You tried to laugh, to alleviate her worries, only to fall into a coughing fit.

Your sister became increasingly worried as her eyes drifted down to the ice covering your wound. Just as she reached to touch it, something caught the sun and blinded her for a split second.

“(Y/n), what is that?” As your sister pointed towards your closed hand, you finally registered the cool feel of metal on your palm, and as you unfurled your fingers you were greeted by a Dendro vision.

A tired smile tugged at your lips as you looked down at the pulsating vision, a wry laugh falling from your mouth.

“Huh, guess nearly dying does have it’s perks,” you chuckled, delirious from both the cold and the hit to your head. You heard Mona screech at your words, and you could only chuckle as you turned to meet her eyes. “Don’t worry, Mona. I’ll be fine.”

“Don’t joke about dying, you stupid little sister!”

-----

Masterlist

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Let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list for Genshin Impact!!

@anatthesavage

#genshin impact #genshin impact xiao & reader #childe/tartaglia & reader #noelle & reader #mona & reader #reader insert #genshin impact/reader #female reader

[arofili]

elves of arda ✹ gondolindrim ✹ headcanon disclaimer ✹ @gondolinweek

          Turukáno Núrondil was the second son of Ñolofinwë Arakáno, and the King of Ondolindë. On the treacherous journey across the Helcaraxë, Turukáno lost his wife Elenwë to the icy depths, a traumatic experience that altered his fate forever. He was always a serious and fastidious nér, and in Beleriand his character grew even grimmer. He kept his daughter Itarillë close by, quarrelled with his elder brother Findekáno over whether to forgive the Sons of Fëanáro, and soon realized that what he wanted was to never have left the gleaming city of Tirion-upon-Túna.           But there was no turning back time, and Turukáno had no recourse to return to Valinórë either. Instead he set his mind to the creation of a new city, safe and hidden, where he would have total control over his life and his loved ones would never be in any danger.           First Turukáno settled in the land of Nevrast on the western coast, where he built the city of Vinyamar and spent much time looking out over the Sea, missing the life he used to have. Yet he was not idle: with him in Vinyamar were his cousin Laurefindil, a charismatic lord with a faithful retinue of warriors, and the harpist Nandáro who led a small group of farmers and musicians. In Nevrast, the Noldor mingled with those who dwelt there already, and Turukáno allied with Galdor, a lord of the native Sindar.           At the Mereth Aderthad, Turukáno broke bread with many lords of the Noldor and the Sindar, forming alliances and making many great speeches. He kept his plans for his hidden city vague, but promised safety and sustenance to those who would ally themselves with him. Not long after the Feast of Reuniting, Turukáno recruited the archivist and architect Penlod, a friend of his sister, to aid him in preliminary designs of a city resembling Tirion of old.          His daughter Itarillë grew ever more restless under his stern watch, eventually culminating in her secret departure to visit her uncle Fingon in Dor-lómin without her father’s leave. Turukáno dramatically lost his temper when he discovered what had happened, and his close friend and cousin Finrod decided he needed some time away from home to come to terms with his losses and fears.           Thus Finrod invited Turukáno to adventure with him across Beleriand. They spent a year together, wandering alone through hills and valleys, and Turukáno finally let his repressed emotions spill out. Finrod comforted and supported him, hiding his secret affections for his cousin all the while—at least until his own resolve broke as they spent a night together on the banks of the river Sirion.           The passions Turukáno and Findaráto exchanged beneath the summer stars were not to blossom into anything lasting, for that very night both were visited by Ulmo in their dreams. The Lord of Waters imparted visions of hidden kingdoms to them both, urging them to pursue their goals, but each thought they were the only one to receive the calling. Their minds were muddled when they woke, the night before hazy and indistinct, and clinging to their secrets neither Finrod nor Turukáno spoke to one another of either their dreams or their half-remembered confessions of passion.           Turukáno spent much time alone searching for the place Ulmo had shown him in his dreams, at last discovering the hidden valley of Tumladen. There, he knew, his people could be safe, and he immediately began to call upon the friends and allies he had made through fifty years of politicking to aid him in constructing a new kingdom.           In the one hundred and seventeenth year of the Sun, the city of Ondolindë was at last completed. Around him Turukáno gathered the greatest lords in his service, establishing ten noble Houses, with himself and his household as the eleventh. Thousands of Eldar, Noldor and Sindar both, quietly made their way to the gates of Ondolindë, but only one hundred were counted as part of the House of the King.           Among the folk of the King were the Unbegotten brothers Bruithwir and Finrun, serving as Turukáno’s personal bodyguard. They were grim folk, alike to their King in mood; they knew well the dangers of Middle-earth, for both had perished on the perils of the Great Journey and had been reborn in Aman. They served as guides to the exiled Noldor who had never before seen the far shores, and attached themselves to Turukáno, the prince they believed best knew how to endure the horrors of Morgoth.           A hundred years after Ondolindë was completed and its gates shut to the outside world, Turukáno completed his greatest creative project: artistic recreations of the Two Trees of Valinor, wrought in silver and in gold. He called them Lingancal and Valisil, known to his Sindarin-speaking subjects as Glingal and Belthil, and looked upon them with great pride.           Yet the day of their unveiling in the King’s Square, Turukáno’s counselor the prophet Amnon was gripped with a dreadful foresight. She prophesied that though they dwelt in a mighty and beautiful city, “great is the Fall of Gondolin, for when the lily of the valley withers then shall Turgon fade.” Already, Ondolindë had gained a number of praising names, including Lothengriol or Endillos, the Flower of the Vale, and the golden blossoms of Lingancal resembled the bloom of a lily. Though Amnon’s words unsettled him, Turukáno dismissed her warning and took heart in the artificial nature of his creation—for how could a lily of gold wilt?           Another hundred years passed in peace before trouble stirred in the valley of Tumladen. King Turukáno’s sister Aredhel Ar-Feiniel, Lady of the Tower of Snow, had come with him to Ondolindë for the sake of her friends and kin, but now she grew restless within the confines of the Echoriath and its surroundings. Though Turukáno was reluctant to let her leave, she refused to be kept caged any longer; Turukáno, knowing she would depart whether or not he permitted it, sent with her an escort of his three most valiant Lords and begged her to head straightaway the home of Fingon their brother.           But Aredhel went not to Dor-lómin as she had been instructed, instead turning toward Himlad where her friends Celegorm and Curufin dwelt. Along the way she was lost in the treacherous forest of Nan Dungortheb, and try though they might, her escort could not find her. They returned to Gondolin in sorrow, and Turukáno retreated into grief once more. Eventually he granted permanent leadership of his sister’s House to her friend Penlod, who had taken stewardship of her folk upon her departure, and all of Gondolin mourned her as dead.           Thus great was their surprise and joy when Aredhel returned unlooked-for—and with a son! For a day there was feasting and merriment, welcoming the indomitable Lady of the Tower of Snow back home, but soon the celebrations were cut short upon the arrival of Aredhel’s wicked husband Eöl, who when faced with the King’s decree that he may not leave Gondolin, slew his wife and was slain in turn.           Upon this great tragedy, Aredhel’s son Maeglin was left orphaned, and Turukáno took him under his wing. Maeglin was odd and reclusive, and Turukáno had never been the most emotionally intelligent nér, so while they performed an awkward familial act they were never as close as Turukáno wished. Upon Maeglin’s coming of age, Turukáno named him the Lord of the new House of the Mole in an attempt to show his love for his nephew.           When the Siege of Angband was finally broken, Turukáno did not send forth any aid to his kin outside Ondolindë’s walls. He did, however, send a select few mariners out to sea so they might beg the aid of the Valar, but none ever returned. Then came the fall of High King Fingolfin in single combat with Morgoth himself; his body was recovered by the mighty Eagle Thorondor and delivered to Ondolindë, where Turukáno grieved and built him a cairn. At this time Turukáno added to the emblem of his House a scarlet heart, representing the loss of his beloved father, before the symbols of the Sun and Moon.           Two years later, Thorondor delivered Turukáno another gift, this one more pleasant: he rescued the Mannish children Húrin and Huor and brought them to Gondolin, where never before had Men been seen. Turukáno grew fond of the boys, and at Húrin’s insistence he finally sent word to his brother that Aredhel had died, breaking his utter isolation for the first time. He was sorrowful to see the lads go when they returned to their homelands in Dor-lómin, his brother’s domain, and remembered them when word came to Gondolin a decade later of the formation of the Union of Maedhros.            Unlooked for, Turukáno led an army ten thousand strong to reinforce High King Fingon at the Fifth Battle. Gondolin’s sudden appearance turned the tide of the dreadful battle for a time, but in the end the Union was overrun and Fingon slain only days after he and Turukáno had reunited for the first time in over 300 years. The House of Hador, led by the now full-grown Húrin and Huor, defended the retreat of the Gondolindrim; in their final meeting, Huor urged Turukáno to escape and prophesied that from him and the King “a new star shall arise.”           Turukáno returned to Ondolindë amid great sorrow, having lost many soldiers including his faithful bodyguard Bruithwir, and assumed the title of High King of the Noldor in the wake of his brother’s death. The free-peoples of Beleriand were defeated in all but the three hidden strongholds of the elves—Doriath, Nargothrond, and Gondolin itself—and he saw himself as the last great leader of his people. Despite this, other Noldor yet lived outside his jurisdiction, and Turukáno’s new title did not extend his duties any further than the walls of his city, now more isolated than ever.           More mariners were sent begging aid from the Valar—and though none made it to the Blessed Land, this time one, Voronwë, survived, returning to Gondolin with a Man sent to the King with a prophecy from Ulmo. Turukáno was counseled to open the gates of his city and prepare for battle or else face the destruction of his people and city, yet Turukáno could not see any path to victory in open war and trusted rather in his own counsel and that of his nephew Maeglin.           Ulmo’s messenger was none other than Tuor son of Huor, and in memory of his friend Turukáno gave him leave to stay in Ondolindë. His daughter Idril was charmed by the Man, and in the course of a few years they asked for permission to wed. Turukáno hesitated at first, but recalled the last words of Huor and was moved to agree. Tuor and Idril were wed amid great joy, and he joined his wife as the leader of her House of the Wing; in only a year’s time, their son Eärendil was born.           But Ulmo’s warning soon proved true, for when Eärendil was only seven years old the golden lilies of Glingal were found tarnished and dented. Amnon urged her King to take heed of the obvious sign from the Valar and the fulfillment of her prophecy, but once more Turukáno refused to listen. This would prove disastrous, as on the morn of Tarnin Austa the armies of Morgoth attacked Gondolin and its great Fall began. Most of Turukáno’s Lords urged him to abandon the city, but Maeglin, who had for a year been acting fell and strange, convinced him to remain in an attempt to hold the city.           For much of the awful battle, Turukáno kept his House in reserve, but when Gothmog, Lord of Balrogs was slain he came down from his tower in all his splendour to cleanse the Square of the King. They drove back the enemy monsters for a time, but many of his folk were slain. The remaining folk gathered beneath Glingal and Bansil, slowly melting from the heat of dragonfire, and Turukáno at last saw that he had brought ruin upon his city. Now at last he recognized the truth in Amnon’s words, lamenting in an echo of her prophecy, “Great is the fall of Gondolin!” But Amnon did not live to see her King’s remorse, for she had perished in the battle.           Too late, Turukáno ordered the remainder of his people to flee through Idril’s secret way, though many had already begun the march. He threw down his crown and proclaimed that though all were free to leave, he would stay and fall with it. Galdor of the Tree attempted to return to him his crown, and Tuor and Idril thrice begged him to escape with them, but Turukáno refused and instead ascended to the height of the Tower of the King and cried out a challenge to the Enemy. He was assailed by dragons and Balrogs, fighting them off with his mighty blade Glamdring, until all his guard perished, Finrun defending him to the last, and the tower was felled by the might of many dragons, its weight and their flame killing Turukáno at last.           In time all those who were slain in Gondolin’s fall would be reborn in Aman, even twice-slain Bruithwir and Finrun and war-wearied Amnon. Turukáno’s return would come in time for him to visit Númenórë, the kingdom of his Elros his great-grandson, and he would be reunited with Elenwë his wife and Itarillë his daughter and even Tuor the Blessed, granted clemency by the Valar—and also his dear friend Findaráto, with whom he could now at last find new love amid the restoration of the old.

#gondolinweek2021 #gondolinweek #tolkienedit #oneringnet #silmarillion #tfog #the fall of gondolin #house of the king #turgoldo #turgon #turukano #amnon #bruithwir #finrun #my edit #my writing #headcanons #tefain nin #elves of arda #gondolindrim #long post #like super fucking long this took me a good few hours to write skjdfhskdjfh #i simply have too many turno headcanons

[fr0gi-b0y]

Happy Feet Lore

just made my friend watch happy feet and he was asking me why the penguins were being racist to dancing, which spurred me to come up with an entire history of the penguin population Mumble is from, and then that spiraled into a deep subplot linking all of the characters, and i needed to put it somewhere where others can be enlightened. 

so first off, the reason why the penguins don’t like dancing but are fine with rapping like Seymour did, it’s because of an event known as The Great Ice Break. in the past, the penguins DID sing and dance in harmony, but all of the funky steps caused micro cracks in the ice. one year, during a particularly strong blizzard, the penguins were dancing in their huddle to keep their body temperatures up, and all of the vibrations from their steps caused the ice to break into parts, separating the colony and countless families the vibrations going through the water also alerted a herd of killer whales to their whereabouts. it was a slaughter. the elder penguin, who was the most staunchly against dancing in the movie, was there during that event, and he was able to see how the singing penguins were able to call out to one another through harmonizing and find their way back. since that time he vowed to rid the colony of the dangers of dancing. 

now to the events of the movie. the archetype that mumble represents (outsider, misunderstood, hidden talent) is one that is very common in underdog films, but it is also present among neurodivergent people. Mumble taps his feet even while he walks and in the graduation scene he waves his arms and vocalizes in an excited manner, similar to the way an autistic person might stim. because of how he manifests his emotions and energy and how it goes against the “norm” of singing, he is ostracized and while his parents do try to stick up for him, they are pressured by the rest of the population and try to get him to conform to their traditional way of life(there are some heavy religious undertones which will be discussed more later).

again touching on how Mumble goes against the “norm” and must conform, this is also a common sentiment among the LGBT community. this, pairing with the religious tones of the elder penguins and how Mumble’s juvenile feathers don’t molt at the same time as his peers, implies that he is a “late bloomer” of some sort, or perhaps he is hiding a part of himself that is a part of growing up: sexuality.

on to Mumble’s journey and eventual meeting of the group of Adelie penguins. these shorter penguins, who refer to themselves as “The Amigos,” are meant to represent Mumble’s breaking free of his oppressive uprbingings and exploring other cultures . The Amigos immediately welcome Mumble into their group and celebrate his dancing, and bring him back to their colony where pebbles are used in place of singing to attract mates and show status. upon Mumble’s asking, The Amigos explain that they’ve never tried to give a pebble to a female penguin or build their own nests, and while they are shown to make some flirtatious gestures towards a group of females, it is in a joking manner and they move on quickly. this, along with their lack of discrepancy when it comes to physical contact (as is seen in the scene where Lovelace tells all of the penguins to hug and they are the only ones to do it), would imply that they are actually all in an open polyamourous relationship and have accepted Mumble in his journey of self exploration and actualization. However, he still has very real feelings for Gloria, which leads on the the conclusion that Mumble is bisexual.

having made this discovery about himself with the help of The Amigos, Mumble returns briefly to the colony and reunites with Gloria. he still feels the need to put on the impression of fitting in with everybody else in order to win her heart, however his scheme of lip synching is quickly found out and Gloria is disappointed in him and begins to leave. however, Mumble reveals his true self to her, and is able to achieve harmony with his dancing and her singing(i must comment that during this scene where Mumble and Gloria were dancing together and she was singing he SLAPPED HER ASS with his penguin hands.) their compatibility encourages those around them to embrace the dancing as well, spurring an episode of self exploration and deviating from tradition for his peers. however this is quickly put to rest when the elder penguin hears of it, and he berates Gloria and the rest for succumbing to temptation. Mumble’s parents try to defend him but ultimately he is banished after trying to convince the colony that the aliens he was told about by a predatory bird are the reason that the fish is disappearing, not his dancing as the elder penguin implies. he vows to find proof and leaves with The Amigos, once again shunned by his home for his differences.

when Gloria is revealed to have  been following Mumble, at first he is overjoyed, but quickly realizes how dangerous the journey will be for her. he tries to get her to go away by mocking her singing, and she retorts by mocking his singing and how he thinks he’s special just because he can’t sing. this scene can be understood as Mumble trying to abandon his colony, and in turn his heterosexuality, in order to protect Gloria from a life of being shunned if she chooses him, as well as his own fears that he won’t be able to protect her on his journey. he still has something he needs to discover for himself, which brings us to our next major character.

now for Lovelace. while it seems that he has everything he could ever want when we first meet him - eager mates, the adoration of the colony, anything he wants - he holds anxieties deep within him and perhaps a sense of imposter syndrome, represented by the plastic around his neck. he gives generally negative answers to questions that are asked of him, such as an unnamed penguins mate being happier without him, or another never hoping to achieve his level of success, but these are more likely him vocalizing his own self doubts. at first he tries to ignore these feelings and acts boisterously to try and convince everyone around him and also himself that the “voices” that give him answers to the colony’s questions are legitimate, but they start to choke him, quite literally in the sense of the plastic around his neck. it is only when he separates himself from this pedestal he has been placed on and joins Mumble and The Amigos is he freed from this burden, the situation coming to a climax in the scene with the killer whales. There are 2, one representing his overcompensation and vanity and the other representing his crippling self doubt, and after a tense scene where the whales push him and Mumble around and nearly devour them, he plastic comes free from his neck and they escape the water. free from his own expectations and self doubts, Lovelace confidently commands the killer whales to leave his presence, and soon after finds new purpose in vowing to tell Mumble’s story of bravery and compassion.

the part where Mumble is put in a zoo can be summed up as he lost himself and missed his family, and became isolated and depressed. the little girl tapping on the glass is representative of his inner child getting him back in touch with his passions, and the antenna is indicative of his new, clearer mindset and his goal of changing the mind of his colony once and for all.

and here is the climax of the movie, when Mumble returns to his colony once and for all. with his journey of sexual and spiritual exploration complete thanks to Lovelace and The Amigos, he is a confident and self assured penguin who is dead set on changing the old ways. the first person he sees upon his arrival is Gloria, who he mocked and turned his back on at their last meeting. she is the first of the past regrets and inner demons that he has to come to terms with. he begins dancing and instructing others how to do the same, claiming that it will save them and send a message to the aliens that are stealing their fish. the elder penguin berates those who join in the dancing, and the rest of the elders begin vocalizing in a way that is very similar to a church choir, beginning the butting of heads between tradition and modernity. more penguins quickly join in, and the commotion brings forth The Amigos his mother, who now fully accepts him and wants him to stay because of how much she missed him. when Mumble asked about his father, his mother directs him to a solitary ice cave. there his father is consumed by depression over abandoning his own son, the second demon Mumble must conquer. his father tells him that he lost his heart song in his sadness, and Mumble is able to help him by getting him to see his perspective as someone who never had a “song” to begin with. father and son dance together and finally reach an understanding, going out to join the rest of the penguins dancing.

at this point the “aliens” arrive in a helicopter, and all of the penguins are given pause. the elder penguin spent so long telling the colony that they werent real, and now they were standing right in front of them. Mumble’s father encourages his son to start dancing, finally showing his full support and trust. Mumble begins to move and the rest of the colony follows suit, with even the elder penguin being converted after having his beliefs disproven before his very eyes. the humans record the penguins dancing and their message is received around the world, with arctic fishing being reeled back and the fish shortage ending. 

the last scene shows everyone dancing in harmony together, a fully fluid community broken free of the oppressive traditions. the elder penguin is seen dancing with Lovelace, which could imply his own exploration of sexuality and the two being in a relationship. everyone is in harmony.

in conclusion: Mumble is a queer coded, neurodivergent revolutionary who broke free of the oppressive bonds of tradition and freed his entire colony from its grasp with the help of a group of polyamorous poc (penguins of color) and a body positive spiritualist.

#this is my ticket to hell #happy feet

[literate-lamb]

Man of the House | two

Sam Wilson/fem!Reader, future dark!Bucky Barnes/fem!Reader | 18+

You take the cat in, or did it take you in? And what is that god-awful screech?

► warnings(!): slow burn. eventual dubcon/noncon, eventual choking in future chapters. this is a dark fic.

|| Series Masterlist ||

a/n: more slowburn. I swear it picks up by next chapter! Sorry for the late update, work has been kicking me. taglists still open.

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝕋𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖

Tap. Tap. Tap. The click of kitten heels resounded as you walked, coffee cup in hand, its heat warming your cold fingers. The temperature was getting chillier as the days passed on. The once lush green foliage now no more, their hues of orange turning darker with time. The drab sky and the autumn wind didn’t make it easier, chilling you as they hung above and passed by.

Approaching the porch, you saw the white feline lounging on the steps. Its tail gave the occasional flicker, eyes imploring, as if it has been awaiting for your arrival.

“Mmreow.”

“Why, hello there!” you cooed, bending at the waist as you looked at the cat. “Have you been waiting for me?”

It gave a low murmur in return, rubbing and butting its head between your legs as a reply, leaving fine hairs on your slacks. Looks like you’ve made a new friend in the neighbourhood. A fur-riend, if you will.

“Lucky for you, I’ve brought some stuff,” you shook the bag of cat food in your other hand, smirking as you tempted the feline.

Sniffing the bag, the cat immediately became hyper, running towards the door with its tail swishing in excitement. Frustrated at your lack of movement, it mewled uncontrollably, yelling at you. Snickering, you stepped foot on the porch and set down the bag, fishing for the keys in your pocket. “Okay okay, you’re so demanding. Calm down.”

It zoomed in as soon as you unlocked the door. The fluffball looked like it knew its way around as it never once hesitated, long tail swishing as it went. It might’ve had history with previous tenants if it has been here long enough, including Mr Rogers.

Sensing your lack of presence, it stopped at the end of the hall, looked back and meowed, telling you to hurry up.

“Okay okay, sheesh, I’m coming!”

Entering the kitchen, you prepared the cat food in a bowl. The feline was almost ravenous, clawing at your slacks like it hasn’t eaten for days. That could be the case for strays, you mulled as you set down the bowl.

The house fell silent once more. Only the munching and grunting emanating from the small body the occasional interruption. You relaxed, back facing the countertop behind. Grabbing the nearest fruit bowl, you picked a peach, washed, and munched.

Slumping, you stared ahead, the antique mirror on the opposite wall occupied your vision. It was one of many, inhabiting your house in its intricate frame.

From your position, you could see the window of the back door reflected in the mirror, showcasing a small area of the yard. You felt yourself relax as you observed the fluttering of grass, dancing as they’re caressed by the autumn wind.

Sam had left in the morning, his work and apartment calling him, before you could be reunited at the end of the week. You missed him, but you enjoyed your solitude when it came, which wasn’t often. For now, it seemed you had a new companion to keep you company.

Munching on a peach, you divert your attention to the cat, watching as it ate eagerly. Humming, you had an idea.

“How about we call you Peaches?” you threw it out loud, “What do you think?”

The cat continued munching, not a care in the world. Well, you weren’t expecting much reply from a cat anyway.

“Peaches, it is then,” you hummed. Reaching down, you scratched it by the scruff. It had an immaculate coat for a stray, especially for a white cat. You found it surprising. “Let’s get you microchipped and vaccinated tomorrow, hmm?”

Leaving the feline to its own devices, you headed upstairs, dying for a post-work shower.

The blue bathroom tiles greeted your feet with their coolness. Natural light basked in through the lone window,  bouncing on the walls as they illuminated the space. The clawfoot bathtub caught your eyes, its sight calling towards your fatigue body, demanding you take a dip.

Towel in hand, you stepped further into the bathroom and shut the door, shedding your clothes as you went. As you were busy pulling at your socks, something caught your attention.

The toilet seat was left up. This irritated you, terribly. You’ve always reminded Sam to put it down after he was done, and he was getting the hang of it too. Seemed like he needed another reminder.

You huffed as you shut the lid, unaware of the passing shadow beneath the door.

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝔽𝕠𝕦𝕣

“Mrreow mrreow.”

“Yes yes, we’ll get back soon,” you replied, eyes on the road. “I need to get a few stuff for dinner.”

Peaches had been whining throughout the entire car ride back and forth. In the morning, she seemed hyper yet nervous being in a moving vehicle for the first time. She wouldn’t stop chittering at everything she saw, pawing at the windows as the scenery flew by. The ride back was far more peaceful as she was confined in a cat carrier bought at the clinic. That didn’t stop her chittering though, Peaches was a talkative cat.

A day at the clinic proved fruitful as you administered Peaches her first vaccine. She whined, but didn’t retaliate, taking it like a champ. A general checkup showed she was fit as a fiddle. Further checking revealed she wasn’t microchipped, proving her a stray of the area. You were more than happy to call her yours.

Putting the gear into park, you exited the car, leaving a smidge of space on the passenger window for Peaches.

“I won’t be long,” you reassured her, tapping the window.

The mini market was located among the row of shops in the quaint town, a five minutes drive from the house. It was a cozy family establishment nestled in the corner next to a hardware store, small but sufficient for the tiny population.

The shift in temperature was apparent when you stepped inside. An elder woman greeted you from behind the counter, her smile warm, clashing with the cold fall weather. Beside her, a teenager sat at the cash register, absent-mindedly flipping through a magazine. You returned the greeting with a smile and took a basket. This would mark your first appearance after the move into the neighbourhood.

Inside, the aisles were stocked but they were devoid of customers other than yourself. It seemed like a slow day.

Taking your time in the produce aisle, you took what you needed for tonight’s dinner, thinking of a few easy stir-fry recipes at the top of your head. You passed by the pet food area, taking a few snacks for Peaches. She deserved a treat after an exhausting day.

Bringing your basket to the counter, the teen started ringing up your items, face impassive, bored with the mundane task.

“Would you like some plastic bags?” the cashier asked, her voice drawls.

“Yes, please.”

Eyes downcast, you swayed on the heel of your boot as you waited for your groceries. The rhythmic tapping calmed you. Tap . Tap . Tap .

“Are you new here, dear?” a soft voice chimed.

Looking up, you saw the older lady had approached the front, facing you. She was a short woman, grey hair fixed neatly in a bun, with oval glasses perched on her nose. Her smile never wavered, motherly in a sense.

“Yes, I just moved here a few days ago,” you answered, straightened. “I live on Gardenia Street, in the old white house further down.”

Your answer shocked the cashier, halting her movement, unbeknownst to the two of you. She immediately composed herself and resumed before anyone could take notice.

“Oh, old Steve Rogers’ place? That’s a lovely house,” the elder beamed, a faraway look on her face. “I remember when he and his wife used to host dinner parties back in the day. Peggy was always a magnificent host, and Steve was equally charming in a silent way. They never had children, those two. It was always just them.”

“When Peggy passed, it hit him hard,” she continued, her eyes turned somber. “Living in a large house by himself, it was probably difficult. I hope he found peace by moving away.”

You didn’t know how to answer, her latter statement left a heavy atmosphere hanging. It was sad to know Mr Rogers’ reason for not living in the house, at the same time it felt you were intruding into your landlord’s personal matters.

Trying to escape the unease, you tried steering the conversation away, awkwardly, “He’s a very attentive landlord, I’m glad to have gotten him as one, honestly. He’s really nice.”

That seemed to do it, for a small smile returned to her face.

“I’m glad to hear it, dearie,” she said, handing your groceries from the cashier. “Stay safe, and if you hear any rumours, just know that the youngsters here like to pull pranks all the time,” she laughed.

Curious, but not wanting to press, you took your bags and paid. You bid the old lady a farewell and rushed to your car, remembering Peaches was still inside.

“Mrrreow.”

“Yeah yeah, I’m here,” you greeted, turning the ignition.  “Sorry it took awhile, bought you some treats to make up for it.”

Before you could reverse out of the parking lot, a series of knocks came on your window. Looking to your left, you saw it was the teen cashier. She gestured for you to roll down your window, her hands frantic.

“Did I leave something behind?” you asked, rolling down the window a bit.

“No, nothing, it’s all fine. I’m just here to warn you,” she said, peering through the small gap you rolled down, eyes frenzied. “You should get out of that house while you still can.”

Ah, this must be what the elder woman meant. Another one of those spooky stories.

“My grandma thinks it’s all crap, but trust me, that house ain’t what you think it is,” she finished, her eyes turning into slits.

��No, thank you. I like that house, thank you very much.”

Brows furrowed, she scoffed, “Last Halloween, me and a couple of friends went there as a dare. I swear to God, we saw a man walking through the house in the dark. I’m not making this shit up!”

“I’m sure you did,” you replied tersely. “Now, is that all? I have somewhere to be.”

Moving away from your vehicle, the teen glared at you, eyes hard. You reversed out of the parking space, watching the girl in the rearview mirror get smaller and smaller as you drove away. She never ceased her gaze, staring until your car disappeared.

Watching you drive away, she whispered beneath her breath, voice carrying into the wind.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

—

This afternoon’s interaction left you weirded out. You heeded the older woman’s advice, shutting down any outrageous stories concerning your new home. Especially from kids who trespass other people’s property in the name of dares.

Downing the last bit of tea —courtesy of your landlord— you headed upstairs, getting ready for bed.

Turning in, you shut the bedside lamp off, plunging the room in semi-darkness; the moonlight from the balcony was the only source of luminance.

Forgetting about the day’s events, you closed your eyes, falling into a dreamless slumber.

...

Screeeech!

A sudden noise awoke you. Loud and clear, like nails on a chalkboard. Like a high-pitched shriek, before fading away into nothing.

With bleary eyes, you snatched your phone from the bedside table. It read 3:25AM. Too early.

Too exhausted to comprehend, you fell asleep once more, deafened to the outside world.

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝔽𝕚𝕧𝕖

The blaring of the phone’s alarm woke you up, its buzzing reverberating. Groggy, you sat up, feeling sated yet still sleepy. Either yesterday’s events were really draining, or the tea really did its trick.

Eyes still heavy, something caught your senses. You sniffed a few times, detecting a scent. Woody, sooty. The scent of a burnt wick perhaps, except it clouded every part of the room. It was familiar.

Taking in the room, nothing seemed amiss. Nothing seemed burnt, nor faulty. No chewed up wires. No spilled perfumes. Yours sat neatly on the vanity, not a single drop vanished.

The closet was the same, nothing seemed burnt as you checked. The bedside lamps and sockets were working well, no burnt fuses. You were beginning to think something might’ve happened when you awoke last night. You were starting to get paranoid.

Opening the bedroom door, nothing seemed different in the hall. Only, the scent stopped there, confined to only the bedroom. Going back in, you threw the balcony door open, hoping to air out the scent. Pleased, you left to get ready.

As soon as you left the bathroom, Peaches was in the bedroom, sat by the foot of the bed. Blue eyes clear and imploring, watching as you dressed. You wondered what goes on in her head at times.

“Come on, let’s eat,” you called, closing the balcony doors before leaving the room. Peaches trotted behind, not before giving one last glance towards the bed, or rather, what was beneath it.

—

A surprise came for you after work in the form of Sam Wilson. A bouquet of white roses and baby breaths in hand, he whooshed into the clinic dramatically with his signature toothy smile. Acting as if he was the hero of a rom-com, confessing to the heroine in front of an audience to demonstrate his undying love. To prove your point, you swore you heard the receptionist sigh.

“Dr Hottie, I presume?”

Amused, you decided to play along. “O Samuel, wherefore art thou Samuel?”

“A surprise for milady,” he proclaimed. “As payment, I require one kiss from thee.” Receiving the bouquet, you sealed the deal with a peck.

Embarrassed by the numerous pair of eyes, you took Sam’s elbow and steered him towards the entrance. This wasn’t his first surprise visit here, but you preferred the affection without the attention.

“Samuel, where is thy chariot?”

“Tony drove me here, I took the bus to work today,” he explained. “He asked if you wanted to back out of the bet, said he’ll understand.”

You grinned, tossing Sam your keys. “Tell him I’m not about being a sore loser.”

You both drove off, with Norah Jones soft falsetto accompanying in the background. The passing scenery lulling you both, soaking in each other’s presence.

As minutes passed, you began to think about yesterday’s events and what they entail. The older woman and her teenage grandchild. The teen whose stare pierced, never wavering. Her tale, which when you think about it, could’ve held some truth. The supernatural seemed like a far reach, but it didn’t mean there weren’t other possible explanations for the truth.

The more you dwelled on it, the more it didn’t make sense. Until you thought about what awoke you last night. It sounded like a high-pitched scream but at the same time it wasn’t.

Glancing towards Sam, you thought about how to bring it up to him. It could be nothing, and you hoped it was nothing.

“Hey baby,” you started. “Can I ask your opinion on something?”

“What is it?” he hummed, giving you a glimpse.

“Last night I heard something like a high-pitched shriek? It was like ‘eeeeh!’, like a firework before it goes off,” you described, gesturing. “It woke me up, but I don’t think it happened inside, it sounded distant. Do you have any ideas what it might be?”

Giving a low hum, he started tapping the wheel, thinking. “Your house has a speed bump in front, right?”

“Huh-uh,” you confirmed, confused.

“Some old cars when they hit the brakes, they produce this loud screeching sound,” he explained. “Here, let me demonstrate.”

Approaching a speed bump on the road, Sam slowed down and pressed the brakes. A loud squeal was emitted, short yet piercing. It went by fast as it came.

“Like that, except it could be louder for cars without maintenance.”

You nodded. In your heart you knew it wasn’t the same, but you let it go.

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝕊𝕚𝕩

“Baby!” Sam hollered from across the hall. “Have you seen my razor?”

Pausing your mascara, you called out, “No, I haven’t! Did you check the cabinets?”

Sam had stayed the night, accompanying you. He held you through the night, limbs tangled in the sheets. He could never keep away for long. Always coming back.

“I did, I swore I left it on the sink last time,” he said, standing by the door with his arms crossed, a towel the only garment protecting his dignity. “Maybe, just maybe… It’s the ghosts! Wooo,” he booed, lips exaggerated in an ‘o’, fingers wiggling in the air. You rolled your eyes at his antics.

“Hurry up, I have to drop you off at the bus stop or you’ll be late,” you grumbled, returning to the task at hand. Sam cackled.

—

Friday nights were always movie nights at your abode. It was a sacred tradition between you both, unless prior engagements were made.

Sam would come over with take-out and drinks while you prepared the popcorn and blankets. Tonight, you both decided to take it up a notch; a blanket fort in the parlour with rose petals scattered, courtesy of Sam.

Your boyfriend had brought his speakers, setting them up beside the coffee table the laptop was perched. Both the chesterfield sofas were brought closer, acting as the foundation for your canopy. It was quite the set-up.

“Caramel or salted?” you got up, moving towards the entryway of the dining room.

“Caramel baby,” he replied, making a face. “Who eats salted? Those are nasty.”

Too used to his antics, you moved to the kitchen to heat up the kernels. While waiting, you began hearing faint scratching. You turned to check. It became distinct when you entered the hallway, slowly creeping, ultimately leading you to the basement.

Feeling a sense of familiarity, you pushed the black door. What greeted you was Peaches in the inky darkness.

“How did you end up in here again?” you grumbled, exasperated. This was becoming a recurring occurrence. “What do you have in your mouth?”

Trotting up the steps, exiting the basement, Peaches dropped an item by your feet before scurrying away. You heard a hiss, followed by Sam’s screech. Peaches must’ve found him.

You leaned down to check what she brought up. It was Sam’s razor.

—

That night, as you lay next to Sam under the canopy of the fort, a distant rumbling stirred you. Followed by a loud screech. It lasted for a second, but it was enough to arouse you.

“Sam, did you hear that?” you whispered, shaking your partner.

“What what?” he mumbled, still sleep laden.

“The screeching sound.”

Sam never opened his eyes, he only snuggled closer. “T’was probably cars. Go to sleep,” he mumbled, dozing off once more.

You didn’t have the energy to wake him again, knowing it was futile. Silencing all your doubts, you closed your eyes and let sleep take you. With the lingering thoughts of how the noise sounded nearer, pushed to the back of your consciousness.

#sam wilson x reader #bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes #marvel fanfiction #dark fic #horror #mystery #bucky barnes fanfiction #sam wilson fanfiction

[hanniiesuckle17]

The Modern Wife

HAN JISUNG REGENCY AU

A/n: Literally I’ve been so obsessed with the idea of this I had to mess up my schedule and write this. Also, omg will you look at that edit job??? I have never used photoshop in my life and look at that!!! Also special shoutout to Celi @poeticallyspaghetti​ for helping me so much with this

See how many Austen quotes you can spot!

Warnings: Slight cursing, mention of violence

Word Count: 11.5k

Summary: Miss Y/n L/n is the talk of the town. She is one of four gorgeous sisters. Her father is a successful politician who travels frequently back and forth to London. She is beautiful, poised, and absolutely unobtainable. Every man in town had been asking for her hand, all except a certain Colonel. Things are turned upside down when Miss L/n is forced into an engagement.

Genre: history!au, enemies to lovers!au, regency!au, historical!au, pride, and prejudice!au

“OW! Not so tight, Harry!” I screamed holding onto my bedposts as my maid and friend, Harriet pulled the laces tight on my corset. “Harry, are you trying to kill me?” I said with a laugh. The small thin plank of wood in the boning pressed hard against my chest and pushed up my breasts as high as they would go for no reason other than to put them on display. 

Ironic that it was unseemly to show my ankle but my cleavage could parade about the world openly. For the next forty minutes, Harriet proceeded to help me get dressed. The pale yellow frock complimented my skin nicely. Harriet always knew what I looked best in. She sat me down at my vanity while she fixed my hair, untwisted the fabric that tied my curls. Before she could finish my eyes glimpsed movement outside my window. 

“Cecilia!”

Bolting up from the chair I ran down the hall, fabric billowing behind me. I rushed passed several servants as I made my way down the sunlit passageway. “Miss Y/n,” our butler, Mr. Carson, exclaimed as I nearly ran him over. Thankfully he did not drop the glassware on his tray. “I’m sorry, Carson!” “Don’t worry about it, my lady.”

With a bright smile, I burst through the large entryway doors and was met by a gracious morning breeze, A carriage had pulled up in the driveway and a woman a few years older than me was exiting the cab with the help of a footman.

“Cecilia! You’re home!” 

“Y/n!”

Wrapping my arms around my elder sister I gave her the biggest hug imaginable. The sound of our laughter could most likely be heard from anywhere on the grounds. I was once again reunited with my sister. She had not been gone but a few months since her last visit, but it felt like ages to me. 

“I should hope I get the same welcoming as my wife,” Turning away, I saw my sister’s husband stepping out of the carriage, a kind smile on his face. “Of course, Chan. I could never forget my brother in law.” He gently gave me a hug before returning me back to my sister. 

“Is father home?” I shook my head, leading my sister arm in arm into the house. “No, he has yet to return from London.” She scoffed and held my hand tighter. “But, it is the beginning of spring! How can he miss your birthday?” Carson greeted Cecilia and Chan with a warm welcome before we continued to the parlor. 

“Do not worry. Papa said he would return in the next few days in time for the ball on Saturday. Tomorrow we girls will simply have to celebrate my nineteenth birthday together.” Chan left us to talk while he helped tried to help Carson and the footmen with the bags, much to Carson’s displeasure. Chan never could really get used to having servants do things for him.

“Where are Charlotte and Emma?” Cecilia was referring to our two younger sisters. Charlotte had turned sixteen this year and little Emma was now ten. “They are in lessons right now. Papa is still positively adamant we are all educated to the highest degree.”  “Of course, he is.”

My sister filled me in on everything that had happened in Dover in the past few months. She and Chan had moved there after they got married, much against father’s will. “Oh, Chan got a letter before we left. He said the Colonel was in London and met up with father. He might come back to Surrey for the spring.” 

Cecilia laughed as disdain took over my face. “Wonderful. There go my hopes of a lovely spring.” “He isn’t that bad, Y/n.” The Colonel was around Cecilia’s age, in his very early twenties. He was the one who introduced Chan to Cecilia. Chan had served in his infantry and had grown quite close to the young officer. 

Father adored the Colonel. Anytime the Colonel returned to Surrey, Papa would insist on us inviting him to our residence. Everyone loved the Colonel. He was a brave man who had done his country proud in the war, taking over his father’s position in the midst of battle after he tragically perished. There was just something about him that made me hate him. He walked around like he was entitled to everything around him. 

“Does that mean he’ll be returning with father?” Cecilia nodded as her husband entered the room. “Who?” Chan asked sitting across from us. “Colonel Han,” Chan nodded with a soft smile on his face, adjusting his jacket. “I assume so. Miss Y/n why are you asking about him? If my memory serves me correctly, the last time he was here you called him ‘Death’s head on a broomstick’,” 

“Well, it was rightly deserved. I’m simply asking because I would like to know when to board up Whitewater so that he simply can’t get in.” 

Cecilia’s bright blue eyes crinkled as she laughed. Running footsteps could be heard coming down the hall. In raced two girls who practically jumped on Cecilia. “Cecilia, we missed you!” Emma sang in her soft voice. Charlotte went and gave Chan a gentle hug as well. 

The next day we celebrated my birthday. Chan and Cecilia got me a lovely gift, a gorgeous leather-bound sketchbook. I knew there was no way they could possibly afford something of such quality, but Cecilia insisted I take it. Carson and the staff celebrated with us making and sharing a beautiful cake. The next two days went by quickly. Chan worked on his music, the girls continued their studies, and Cecilia and I spent the time walking the grounds and gossiping about anything and everything, with Harriet often joining us

On Thursday afternoon, Charlotte and I were strolling near the banks of the creek, for which our estate was named. The clear water quickly rushed along making almost a soft song with the wind in the trees. Soon, we began to grow tired so we headed back to Whitewater.

As we reached the estate, my eyes were drawn to a carriage and a horse stationed outside. No one was expecting visitors so it must mean father was home. Charlotte and I raced into the house, grins filling our faces. 

“Papa! Are you home?” I called out. Charlotte heard voices in the parlor, so we both ventured into the sitting room. “There are the rest of my beautiful daughters!” He exclaimed, getting up and wrapping his arms around us. It felt so good to have my father’s arms wrapped around me again. His familiar smell of burning wood and lavender. 

He pulled away and kissed each of our cheeks. “Girls, you remember Colonel Han Jisung.” I tried to hide the grimace on my face but failed. Of course. That’s whose horse was out front. My eyes fell on the man standing near the window. He wore a dark navy overcoat and pristine black boots. While his somewhat smaller and shorter than some of the other military men I had met in the past, there was no doubt about the way he commanded the room.  His shaggy brown hair was tousled from the ride back to Surrey. 

His dark eyes were hidden as he bowed and took Charlotte’s hand. A proper way to greet a lady. “Yes, unfortunately, I do remember,” I said rolling my eyes. “Believe me, feelings are the same Miss L/n.” The Colonel said giving me a curt bow. Rolling my eyes, I sat down next to Cecilia, who nudged me, giving me a look. 

“Papa, how was London?” Charlotte asked happily. Father smiled and sat back down near the fireplace. Mr. Han remained standing near where Chan was sitting. “Perfectly fine. Everything is well. It seems Napoleon’s advances in England have stopped for the time being. Also, I met quite an intriguing man and invited him to have dinner with us this evening.” 

“Is he handsome, Father?” Charlotte asked. “Charlotte, do not ask such things.” Cecilia scolded, gently pushing our sister back in her seat. “I should think so. Colonel, you are welcome to join us for supper as well.” 

“I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“You do most days anyway,” I muttered under my breath.

Ignoring the look he sent my way I turned back to father. “Nonsense! You shall join us!” The hour seemed to drag on. Father and Mr.Han seemed to only talk about the war. Papa only paused to ask Cecilia and Chan about Dover and Chan’s music. To be fair he only asked because Cecilia forced him to be civil with Chan about his work.

Soon, The Colonel decided he should return to his estate and unpack his things. “Thank you for your time. The visit was lovely.” He said graciously. Giving everyone a short goodbye, he mounted his horse and made the travel to Ruxfield Manor a few miles to the west of Whitewater.

“That was an eventful visit,” Cecilia said wrapping her arm in mine.

“It was a delightful visit-perfect in being much too short.” 

She laughed at my comment as the two of us climbed the stairs to get ready for dinner in a few hours. Harriet helped me change for dinner and pinned up my hair leaving a few twisting strands loose framing my face. “Carson told me your father and his guests are already in the sitting room,” I sighed picking up a handheld mirror as she clasped a necklace around my neck.

“Well, then we should join them.” I stood up, smoothing the dark green fabric of the dress Harriet had picked out. As I exited my bedroom, the door next to me opened as well to reveal my sister and her husband dressed for dinner. As we approached the parlor, Carson opened the door and announced us.

“Miss Y/n and Mr. and Mrs. Bang.”

All heads turned towards us as we entered the room. Two men stood up at the announcement. One was the Colonel, purely out of respect for the women of the household. His eyes never even moved to the door. The other man wore a dark almost velvet-like coat and he carried himself with high prestige. 

He had deep brown eyes and sharp features. “My darling girls,” Father exclaimed before setting down his glass of sherry. He came and kissed both of our cheeks. “Father,” I said, latching onto his arm. He led us over to the men and our sisters. 

“Mr. Han,” I said trying not to roll my eyes. He gave me a curt nod and then returned to his seat. “Y/n play nice,” Papa said jokingly. “I am, Papa!” 

“Miss Y/n,” The other man said bowing before me. I couldn’t help but give him a questioning look as he took my hand and placed a soft and chaste kiss on my skin. “Oh, and to whom do I owe the pleasure?”

“Angel, this is Mr. Lee. He is a barrister in London. Minho, this is my second eldest daughter.” Mr. Lee stood up straight and looked me over with a gentle, but mischievous smile. “The pleasure is all mine. Your father has told me so much about you.” 

“Oh has he now! All good things I hope!”

“You can you tell the difference?” The Colonel mumbled, taking a sip of his drink. 

“Oh please, you are hardly agreeable yourself.”

“I do not wish people to be very agreeable, as it saves me the trouble of being forced into casual pleasantries.”

Thankfully, Carson entered the room, saving the Colonel and myself from getting into yet another altercation. “Dinner is ready to be served in the dining room.” Mr. Han scoffed when Minho bowed once again and offered me his arm. The eight of us ventured into the dining room where our new light bulbs brightened up the space from the ceiling. Father was obsessed with every new invention.

Papa took his place at the head of the table, the girls on either side of him. Cecilia sat across from her husband and the Colonel was seated next to her and across from me. Mr. Lee was seated at the other end of the table.  

Polite conversation was heard throughout dinner. The girls discussed their studies with father, who then bragged about our education to Mr. Lee. Dinner was lovely as always. Mr. Lee was beyond courteous and thanked Carson and the staff for the meal. We engaged in polite conversation. Mr. Lee seemed to pride himself in small talk because the conversation never got any bigger. “You know green is my favorite color. It is almost as if you wore that dress to see me smile.”

To be frank he was quite boring. He seemed no different than the other men I had met except for the fact he seemed fascinated by the cats on his estate. Cecilia sent me a pitiful glance and I did my best to hide my expression from Father. 

“Doori is just so mischievous. And Soongi! You would love Soongi!” Cecilia stifled a laugh as I downed the rest of the wine in my glass. I was too preoccupied forcing the alcohol down my throat that I didn’t notice Mr. Han’s soft laughter at my struggle with Mr. Lee. 

“Since we are all here and getting along so well, I would like to say something,” Father announced to the room. Carson ushered the footmen out of the room and back to the kitchen before turning back to Father at full attention. Every eye at the table was on Papa.

“After much discussion and thought, I have decided that it is time for Y/n to be married.” 

All eyes turned to me. I froze and looked around the table. Excuse me? When did my father talk to me about this? He was just marrying me off to some random noble?

“Mr. Lee and I have agreed. We would like to announce an engagement by the end of the summer.” 

This time all eyes turned to Mr. Lee at the other end of the table. “What?” Cecilia says breaking the silence that had lasted for much too long. I could do nothing but stare at the table. There were too many emotions flying around and none of them were particularly good let alone ladylike. Everyone, even the Colonel looked between my father and Mr. Lee with widened eyes. Chan watched his wife struggling to comprehend my fate. The girls stared at me looking for an answer. I felt the Colonel’s stare like a weight, when I looked up he was looking anywhere except my face. He let out a hefty sigh with an emotionless expression as he soon became fascinated with the chandelier.

“Did you think to ask me how I felt?” Papa looked at me, his eyebrows raised in curiosity. “I didn’t think you would much care,” All of my sisters seemed shocked at his words. Father had always been so set on us making our own decisions. He always wanted us to be happy, especially after our mother had passed.

“Just because Cecilia decided she did not want to marry a noble doesn’t mean you can pass this onto me!” Cecilia looked down at her plate. It was no secret that Papa was outraged at her marriage to Chan. “This has nothing to do with your sister.” 

“You are sending me away! Why not just make this punishment even worse? Send me off with the Colonel, make my life completely miserable!”

“Y/n L/n!” Father yelled standing up. 

“Father you are at fault here too,” Cecilia said standing up. She rushed over and led me out of the room and up the stairs. When Harriet saw us down the hall she rushed to us and opened the door to my bedroom. “Did you hear, Harry?” You looked at the girl who sadly nodded. Of course, she had heard. People in France had heard the argument between me and Papa. Cecilia helped Harriet calm me down and change before placing a kiss on my forehead and leaving to confer with her husband. Slowly I slipped into a deep sleep hoping to forget the events of this night.

The next afternoon my sister and I strolled through the lanes of Surrey on our way to the dress shop. Cecilia had convinced me to come out and get a new dress for the ball tomorrow night with her. Despite my protests, she and Harriet dragged me out of bed and helped slip by my father’s study and into town. 

I had to admit, I was thankful to be away from Whitewater. Walking into the dress shop with my sister on my arm felt freeing. Like I wasn’t about to be engaged to a man I had absolutely no interest in. 

Breathing in the smell of the wood and the fabrics put a smile on my face. Cecilia ran over to the rolls of blue fabric. I had missed coming to the seamstress with my older sister. In Dover Chan and Cecilia didn’t have enough money to get a new dress more than once or twice a year, so Cecilia was thrilled to come with me. 

“What color do you think you would like?” Cecilia shouted from over her shoulder, pulling out a dress with baby blue fabric and white lace. I shrugged and sorted through the different dresses. “I will wear anything but green. Minho would not stop talking about how I wore his favorite color at dinner.” Cecilia laughed as I brushed passed a light green ensemble without hesitation. 

“Why don’t we send you in black since it is going to be your funeral anyway,” Cecilia said throwing a black frock at me. I laughed and returned the dress to the seamstress. “Y/n, what about this?” She handed me a gorgeous red dress that was embroidered with pearls and gold thread. 

“I have not worn red since we were little girls. It’s absolutely gorgeous!” The seamstress helped us try on the dresses before we paid for them and changed back. Cecilia laughed as I recounted the conversation with Mr. Lee as we walked out of the shop. I felt uneasy. Like something was off. Looking around I saw several young men from the town walking about and standing near shops but they all seemed to be looking anywhere but me, which was very abnormal. 

“Do you think they heard about the engagement? It isn’t even official yet!” Cecilia said, reading my mind. An exasperated sigh left my chest. “Nor will it be. I will marry Lee Minho over my dead body.” 

“Oh, Miss Y/n!” a voice called out from across the street. 

Looking for the source of the deep voice I found Lee Felix, Colonel Han’s aide. And of course, next to him, was Colonel Han Jisung himself. My sister laughed as the Colonel and I both grimaced. Despite the second protests of the day, Cecilia dragged me over to greet the two soldiers. 

Han and Felix gave the two of us military level bows and Felix greeted us happily. “I see you two ladies are enjoying today’s fine weather.” Mr. Han said looking around at the scenery, his hands behind his back and his posture incredibly straight. “Yes, Y/n and I were out shopping for an ensemble for the ball tomorrow.” 

Felix’s grin grew three times larger. “I see that!” He said pointing to the folded dresses in our arms. “Oh Colonel, Miss Y/n picked out a red dress! What a coincidence!” Han spared me and the dress in my arms a glance before scoffing and looking at Felix. “What is a coincidence? Do tell,” I said, a smirk falling on my lips. “Jisung was just saying how gorgeous the red roses were at Ruxfield.” 

“Ow-” Cecilia nudged my stomach with an innocent grin on her sweet oval face. “Y/n just adores roses! She was sketching them in the garden, just the other day.” Cecilia’s blue eyes sparkled as she nudged me once again. What was she getting at? They were just flowers. 

The Colonel looked up at my words, his eyes slightly widening. He quickly recovered and trained his eyes on the ground. “Well, Felix and I have much to attend to. I am sure we shall meet again tomorrow night.” I rolled my eyes as Han mounted his horse, Felix following close behind. 

“Come, we must prepare for tomorrow night, given this new information!”

“Cecilia! What new information? Stop pulling on my arm!”

The carriage rumbled to a stop in front of the Hall. My father the girls and I were all in one cab, while Chan and Cecilia rode in a separate carriage. A footman opened the door and helped me down from the cab. He gently took each of my sisters’ hands as they exited as well. The music swelled as we entered the Hall with our father in front of us.

Emma quickly ran off to the table filled with sweets and hour devours, and Charlotte was towed away by her friends. “Miss L/n!” Turning, I saw Mr. Lee pushing his way through the crowd. Wonderful. The last person I wanted to see.  Like a leech, Mr. Lee latched himself onto my arm. “Are you quite good at dancing, Miss L/n? I fancy myself quite the dancer. They do all the latest court dances in London you see.”

“If you would excuse me, Mr. Lee, I am quite parched,” I said interrupting the never ending stream of words. “Yes, quite alright. I shall miss every second you are parted from me!” Minho said placing a kiss on my hand. Begrudgingly, I plastered a smile on my face and maneuvered my way through the crowd. 

Spotting my sister’s golden brown hair, I moved through the flood of people. Her beautiful baby blue dress stood out against the dark colored suits and dresses around her. She stood next to her husband and another man. “Cecilia, thank goodness.” I heaved out in a sigh. “My dear sister, you look ravishing! Don’t you think so, Mr. Han?” Turning I saw The Colonel dressed in fine navy blue. His eyes drunk me in with a disenchanted expression.

“She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me; I am in no humor at the present to give consequence to young ladies with such ‘modern’ attributes.” 

Only to uphold my social presence and reputation did I refrain from slapping him. How could he say something so ghastly right to my face. Before I could fire back Chan interrupted, questioning his friend. “Han, do you plan on joining in the festivities? I certainly plan on bringing my adoring Cecilia onto the dance floor tonight. There is absolutely nothing like dancing after all. It is one of the first refinements of a polished society.” He sighed, rolling his eyes and placing his hands behind his back in a seemingly military sense. 

“Certainly, sir; and it has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst the less polished societies of the world. Every savage can dance.” “Not every savage-” Cecilia ventured. “I assure you, Mrs. Bang. Every savage can. Even damn Napoleon, so no I do not think I shall partake in the such an adolescent event.” 

The urge to shove his head up his ass grew stronger within me by the second, but I don’t think anything would be able to move past the gargantuan log shoved up there already. “Well, my dearest, would you accompany me onto the dance floor.” Chan said with a bright smile, offering a hand to his wife. Her lace gloved hand slid into his with a smile. Just as they were leaving a voice called out over the sea of guests. 

“Miss L/n! Where are you my love? Miss Y/n?” My eyes widened as I saw Minho’s head bobbing through the crowd. “Ah! Miss Y/n! There you are!” He said pointing in my direction. 

“Oh lord help me. Quick!” Without thinking I grabbed the nearest coat sleeve and pulled the man out onto the dance floor, a new dance beginning. “What in all hell?” He exclaimed, eyes turning to saucers. 

A sigh of relief left my lips as Minho walked right passed my previous location, still looking for me. Music swelled and the couples around me started dancing so I joined in with my partner. My heart skipped a beat when my eyes fell on Mr. Han standing in front of me, gently holding my hand and bowing. I curtsied to him and focused on looking for Mr. Lee in the crowd. Hopefully he wasn’t too close. Absentmindedly I followed the steps of the dance, my palm pressing lightly against the Colonel’s as we moved through the steps and turns of the dance. 

Halfway through the song, my eyes followed Mr. Lee as he searched for me into another room. This time a sigh of relief escaped as my focus turned back to the dance. I then became very aware of Mr. Han’s hand on my waist. “Mr. Han, I didn’t realize you could dance.” I jested a smirk playing on my lips. His face remained the same but there was something about his eyes that was different. 

“Miss L/n, I said any savage can dance. I am not excluded.” 

I was left without a retort. I simply stared at him as he circled and came behind me, one hand on my waist, the other gently holding my outstretched hand. The feeling of his chest against my shoulder  was unfamiliar but somehow inviting. He smelled like gun powder and old books. My eyes couldn’t seem to break away from his as we turned and moved with the music. 

The entire world seemed to dissolve away and all I could see was how he was looking at me. How he was holding me gently and cautiously, as if I was a butterfly in his palm. He had a softness in his eyes I had never seen before. The kind that showed a tortured past. Had he always been this handsome? 

Somehow I had never noticed the smooth lines of his face. The soft curve of his lips. The sharp angle of his jaw and the color of his warm tan skin from being in the sun on the battlefield. I had been completely oblivious. I was too stubborn to see the honorable man in front of me. I was even unkind to him on so many occasions yet he looked at me with such a hidden admiration. 

Our movements came to a stop and the Colonel stayed by my side, my hand still resting gently over his. I couldn’t seem to tear my eyes away from his stare. 

“Miss Y/n,” A voice called. Everyone was looking at me. Looking at us. Confusion and suggestion plastered on their faces. Suddenly the Colonel’s hands removed themselves he moved a good distance away from me. 

“Next time you would like to hide from your fiancee, use someone else as a shield. I would much rather not be involved in the manner.”

With a sharp, curt bow the Colonel excused himself and rushed off, disappearing into the bustling and whispering crowd. The gossip seemed to stop when Emma ran up to me, her big bright eyes sparkling. Leaving the moment between myself and Mr. Han behind, I danced with my sisters the rest of the night and did my best to fend off my soon to be fiancee. 

Hours later the evening drew to a close. Emma was already asleep and had returned to Whitewater with father a few hours earlier in our carriage. Charlotte and I walked out of the Hall our arms linked and laughing about Lady Moss’s hair piece. “Can you believe it?” Lottie laughed out of breath.

A yell from the street pulled our attention. “Your master stepped over the line!” A huge crowd had surrounded two very young men near the road. A fight had broke out between two footmen. I winced seeing a blow land on the smaller one’s face and another to his cut. My eyes widened when I caught a glimpse of his face. It was Felix. Colonel Han’s aide. 

“Lottie, go find Chan and Cecilia.” Nodding, she ran back into the hall to find our sister. I pushed my way through the crowd trying to see what was going on. Felix was doing his best to hold his ground against the other boy. It looked like Minho’s steward, Seungmin. “I have no control over what the Colonel does. You’re crazy!” Felix said blocking another swing. 

“Hey! Break it up! Stop this juvenile combat!” A voice boomed. Han himself pushed through the crowd and plowed through Seungmin, a hand clutching the collar of the boys shirt. “You do not touch him. If your quarrel is with me then face me so. Do not be a coward and go after my aide.” There was a fire in his eyes and Seungmin looked terrified. The power Han exuded would frighten any man. 

Seungmin, regaining his composure, threw a punch at the Colonel, landing on his jaw. While he seemed mostly unaffected, Seungmin took the opportunity to wriggle out of Jisung’s tight grasp. Han scoffed, and threw of his coat, rolling up his sleeves as well. “You will certainly regret doing that.” The crowd cheered as Han took a strike. His slim form allowed him to move with agility and strike with force. It was clear that Seungmin was done for. 

Another person burst through the crowd as Han threw Seungmin off of him. Minho caught his steward, pulling him up by the arm. He took Seungmin’s cheek in his hand and examined the boy’s beaten face, before handing him off to another footman. His glare then targeted the Colonel who stood out of breath and dark brown hair tousled. 

“How dare you assault my boy?” Minho screamed, pointing a finger at Mr. Han. “Do not jump to assumptions, my friend. Your boy att-” “First you try to seduce my fiancee in front of the entire town- then you assault my aide!” Han let out a breathy laugh before pointing at himself. “Me? You think I would ever be interested in the a woman such as Miss L/n?” His finger moved to point at me, but my glare in his direction was ignored. 

“Your man attacked mine first! It is you who needs to apologize! I will not have my staff humiliated and beaten by scum like you or your servants.” Han said beginning to get an almost erratic look in his eyes. “That’s it,” Minho said throwing his coat onto the ground. Without hesitation he leaped into the fight. The crowd cheered them on as I watched in horror.

“Stop! Stop this right now!” I screamed, but no one listened. Mr. Lee’s fist connected with Han’s temple, making his eyes go dark for a moment, before returning. Mr. Lee took the opportunity to throw Han over his shoulder and onto the ground before my feet. 

“Mr. Lee, stop right this instant! Both of you! There is no use fighting over me! this is complete nonsense.” Mr. Han’s eyes rolled over to me as he sat up. He winced as he moved to stand up. It took all of my power not to break his stare. 

“Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn about you.”

Why did his words wound me? The hurt must have shown on my face for a brief moment because once again his eyes softened. Before he could say something Mr. Lee took a cheap shot, his fist flying across Han’s cheek. My eyes did not fail to miss the drops of blood that landed on the dirt. Han wasted no time in fighting back. 

“ENOUGH!” I screamed. Reputation be damned. I was finished. I had enough. Storming up, with all my strength I pushed the men apart. The two seemed insistent on continuing the brawl. The only thing stopping the Colonel from destroying Mr. Lee was my hands pushing against his shoulders. “You know nothing about me!” My loathsome future fiancee shouted.

“You are only trying to buy her from her father; like she is some prize!” Han sneered. “She is not some timepiece or your stupid pet!” Hearing a yell from Mr. Lee I turned to stop him only to feel a strike against my head. My vision started to blur and my head started to spin before I felt myself fall to the ground. 

Every person froze. Mr. Lee and the Colonel watched in horror as I collapsed to the ground barely conscious. Not a second later Chan burst through the crowd with Cecilia in tow, breaking up the fight. She gasped seeing my body on the ground. Quickly she rushed to my side and cradled my head in her lap. 

“Quick! Someone help!” Felix, still recovering from his beating, rushed over without hesitating. With some struggle, he got my partially limp body in his arms as Cecilia led him to where our carriage should have been. Han seemed to snap out of his shock, and he rushed to Felix’s side. “Mr. L/n took their carriage. Felix, we’ll go in ours.” Nodding, Felix turned and rushed to the Colonel’s cab and gently placed me on the seat. Cecilia placed my head in her lap as Han jumped into the cab with us, worry painted all over his face. 

Felix jumped up into the coach’s seat. Han pounded on the carriage wall and screamed for Felix to go. “Felix, hurry! To Whitewater. Take the back road it’s  faster!”  Han prayed that they could return to my estate fast enough to call a doctor. When the carriage pulled to a stop, the Colonel took me from Cecilia’s lap and held me in his arms, letting my head roll onto his chest. 

“Into the house! Carson! Carson, call the physician!”

Mr. Han carried me up the steps of the porch and impatiently yelled at Felix to hold the door. The poor boy rushed up and let Han carry me through the doorway. Han cautiously handed my semi-conscious body over to Carson. His brow furrowed, concern flooding his features as he watched my loving staff rush to my aid. Carson placed me gently on a sofa  and Cecilia carefully undid the tight curls in my hair so my head had somewhat less pain. 

 Han could do nothing but stand off to the side watching in distress. “Miss Bang...please let me offer my assistance-”

“You have done enough,”

Cecilia did not mean her words to come out as harsh as they did. He knew that. He scolded himself at his thoughts. ‘If only Y/n had not gotten in the way.’ ‘Lee Minho will pay for what he has done.’ A touch on his shoulder brought him back to reality. Turning he saw Felix, a frown on his face. “Sir, we should return to Ruxfield. I will be sure to inquire of Miss L/n’s health in the morning.” Almost as if he was giving him no choice, Felix guided the Colonel back to his carriage and the two departed. 

The next morning I awoke to find both Cecilia and Harriet sleeping beside me. Harriet even in her sleep was still holding cloth wrapped ice to my forehead. Sensing my movement, Harriet woke up and asked millions of questions about how I was feeling. 

Cecilia then woke up not long after. She recounted what happened  after the fight and then left to let me change for the day. The next week went by with no word from the Colonel. Felix came by the first morning to give his apologies at the Colonel’s request. Sadly, Mr. Lee visited almost daily. I had taken to sketching in the book gifted to me by my sister, hoping this would come as a distraction from remembering certain interactions from that night. 

The afternoon was perfect. A light rain had come in the morning, leaving droplets on the the flowers in the garden. Now the sun was out and shining, as I sat on a bench outside with my sketchbook amongst the flowers. “My lady you have a visitor.” Carson said from the stone walkway. The garden had somewhat of a keyhole stone path, with a fountain and stone circle at the center. Mr.Carson stood near the fountain. Through the water you could see the outline of a man’s over coat. “If it is Mr. Lee send him away. I am in no mood to entertain him today.”

“Mr. Lee is not the one asking for visitation,” A smooth deep voice spoke as its owner moved from behind the fountain. 

Colonel Han stood a little in front of Carson, looking at you with a serious expression. The same he wore every day of his entire life, except it his eyes. His eyes once again held that softness, as if it was a sight only you could bring out of him. “I’d have to jump off a bridge if I was that cat loving bigot.”  A hint of a smile slid onto his lips. 

He was correct. Mr. Han was nothing like Mr. Lee. Han was rough. He had edges. He never primped himself like Mr.Lee did. I couldn’t help but drink him in. His dark hair was shaggy and he only wore a simple shirt and the old navy overcoat he seemingly never took off. His boots were dirty and scuffed, but well taken care of. A sign of his daring acts but military discipline. A blush came over my cheeks as I remembered the feeling of dancing with him, his chest against my back.

“Jis- Colonel... to what do I owe the pleasure.” I closed my sketchbook and placed it beside me on the stone bench. “Papa is in London, but he should return by nightfall.” In all of my life I had never been nervous in front of a man other than my father. I believed a woman should be a strong and elegant vision, not simply standing behind a man but beside him if at all. So why could I not meet Mr. Han’s eyes. 

“I’m not here to see your father. I’m here to see you.”

My eyes widened at his words. Nothing was different about him. He still stood straight with his arms behind his back, keeping a respectable distance form me. His face remained stoic as if he was reading from a war plan. “Thank you, Carson. You may leave us,” 

It was Han’s turn to be flustered upon hearing my words. Being the respectful man he was he always adhered to the social protocol of a woman and man never being alone unless with a chaperone. Carson raised his brow in question, but complied, entering the house.

A moment of awkward silence followed. Then another. And another. It was almost like Mr. Han had lost the ability to function after being alone with me. Nervously, I played with the fabric of my dress. What could he possibly want to discuss with me. We have hardly had a pleasant conversation in our entire lives. “Miss Ln-” His words halted when I looked up at him. His eyes went immediately to my face. I knew exactly what he was looking at. The bruise from that night. It was lighter now, having had a week to heal, but still visible.

“Oh Y/n...” He reached out as if to touch my face, but thought better of it and pulled back. There was no longer a wide expanse between us. He now stood only a few feet away from where I sat.  “We are not even wed, and yet I have already forsaken you and broken a valiant code...” He muttered under an aggravated sigh.

He was grateful that I didn’t hear it. “If you are indeed here for me, please enlighten me of your purpose for I am in the dark.” I said pushing a strand of loose hair around my face. As he opened his mouth to speak a deep voice called his name. 

“Colonel Han!”

Felix came running out of Whitewater. He was out of breath and his hair and clothes were out of place, like he had just gotten off his horse. He handed on a sealed envelope and whispered something in Mr. Han’s ear.  Immediately, Han opened the letter with his long nimble fingers. His eyes quickly scanned the letter, leaving me in anxious silence. 

“What is it?” I asked on the edge of my seat. Han handed the letter back to Felix and whispered something back to him. Felix spared me a glance before leaving us alone. 

The Colonel raked a hand through his already slightly disheveled hair and turned his back to me. Something was compelling me to reach out to him. “Jisung,” He turned at the sound of his name. My mind had yet to register the fact this was the first time I had actually said his name. He on the other hand, did notice.

“What is the matter?” He sighed and looked back at the house. Felix was standing by the door, discussing something with Carson. “Napoleon has resumed his advances on the border.” It took me a moment for me to process the information. This was news that was not for me to hear. “Why-”

“They are calling me to the front line.”

I couldn’t speak.

“Felix gave me my orders just now. I leave in the morning.”

This meant so many things. This meant our country was once again at war with France. It meant Father would have to stay in London. It meant Mr. Han would be sent to the heat of the battle commanding easily a thousand men in combat. It meant Jisung...was being sent into battle that he might not come back from.

Why did I even care? I was in line to be engaged. Granted it was to a spinless snob I practically loathed. “I may be a bitter married woman when you returned. Then our arguments will be that much more interesting.” Another look flashed across his face. Almost like he was disappointed that was what I had chosen to say. Like he had wished I had asked him to stay.

“Let’s hope for the both of us that is not true when I return.”

Before I could understand his words Felix returned, this time with Carson behind him. He came to Mr. Han’s side and urgently whispered something in his ear. Han nodded and brushed him off before turning back to me, his eyes growing soft. Gently, he took my hand. All I could do was watch as he brought it up to his lips and softly kissed my knuckles. 

It was an action I had experienced many times from many men. All seeking for my hand in marriage. But this. This was different. This felt intimate. Like the kiss was burning itself into my skin as if to mark me for life. His eyes joined mine as he pulled away. 

“Colonel, we have to go.” Felix said breaking the silence. Han slid his hand from mine and he turned to follow Felix back to Ruxfield to prepare for is departure. My body could do nothing but watch him leave.

“You’re all grown up now, Miss Y/n.” Carson said. He had the kindest smile on his face as he came to sit on the bench, pulling me down with him. “What do you mean, Carson?” He sighed, taking my hand in his. Carson was nothing like my father. He and my mother were very close and Mr. Carson always seemed like a real father figure in my life. He was the one who taught me to dance, and what books I should read, and even how to play poker. 

“You are falling in love. I would know that look anywhere.” Love? With the Colonel. Impossible. I despised him. Right? “I am not in love. If I was in love I would be getting married.” He chuckled and patted my hand. “Aren’t you though?”

“Carson, do you see me voluntarily marrying that mess of a man?”

“Are you speaking of Lord Lee or Colonel Han?”

Blinking, the thought crossed my mind. Of course I was talking about Mr. Lee right. I was set to marry him. Was Carson saying I should marry Mr. Han? Marrying Colonel Han Jisung. The thought had never crossed my mind. Now that it did, why did my heart swell.

“Of course I’m speaking of Mr. Lee. Father would forbid anyone else.” Carson nodded, looking over the garden. “So, are you saying there is someone else?” He took my silence as an answer, smiling. 

“An unhappy alternative is before you, Y/n. From this day you must be a stranger to one of us. Your father will never see you again if you do not marry Mr. Lee, and I would never see you again if you do.” 

A warm, fatherly smile filled his eyes. “Do you love him?” There was no question of who he was talking about. “While I have lost my heart, I shall not lose my self control. I will not become one of those silly girls running around with their heads in the clouds controlled by love.” Carson laughed and picked a flower near the bench.

“Silly things do cease to be silly if they are done by sensible people in an impudent way.” 

Before I could respond I was interrupted by what seemed like the fourth time today. “Y/’n! Y/n!” Cecilia ran out of the house a grin from ear to ear. Emma and Charlotte followed hot on her heels. Her light blue dress blew behind her as she ran over to us. “Y/n, I’m pregnant!” After blinking a few times I wrapped her up in a hug and cheered. Carson joined us and we all went inside to celebrate Cecilia’s news, leaving the conclusion of my conversation with Carson in the back of my mind.

Spring came and went. Soon came the long months of summer and with it came heavy summer storms. The Whitewater creek was filled to capacity and quite dangerous. Father had come home from London and the tensions had been high ever since he returned. Papa seemed hell bent on my marriage to Mr. Lee. 

Every chance he got he brought up the engagement. I was starting to think Carson may have been right. Every mention of Mr.Lee drove me further away from him and made me wonder about another man...far away. 

Another man who didn’t write. Not once. I found myself jumping to the door when Carson delivered our mail to our rooms. Weeks passed and still I heard no word from him. Weeks turned into months until it became the middle of summer. Still no word from the Colonel. Not even to my father about the war. I was beginning to worry something had happened. Certainly he wouldn’t forget about me after a goodbye like that? Why did I even care? I hated the man. Yes, I hated the man. I had all the right to hate him if he wasn’t going to send me even one letter. 

Another summer storm raged outside my window. “Miss you will have to leave your room sometime.” Harriet said, hanging up some of my laundry. “If Cecilia will not leave her room then I too shall not.” Harriet laughed as I watched the water pelt against the glass. “Miss Y/n, your sister is ordered by the doctor to bed rest. Chan is taking care of her. You are simply sulking over your engagement.” 

“I am not sulking over my engagement.”

“Then a certain Colonel perhaps? Maybe the lack of a letter?” 

Before I could correct my friend, Carson knocked on the door and entered. “My lady, your father wishes to speak to you in his study.” I sighed, turning back to the window. “Carson, I am in no mood to speak to Papa.” Harsh winds blew the trees in the forest just outside the estate. “My lady, he is leaving for London in an hour. He is insistent on speaking to you.”

Carson gave me a small smile. He was probably right. It was better to simply speak to him before he left than ignore him until he returned home. With a sigh, I got up from my window seat. Harriet straightened my dress and adjusted the loose but proper style she had done to my hair this morning. I knew exactly what awaited me behind the heavy wooden doors. My knuckles softly wrapped against the oak. 

“Enter,” 

The gruff voice of my father echoed as I opened the door. He sat at his desk writing a letter or some other important document. “Papa, you wanted to talk to me?” I said standing near one of the many bookshelves in his study. “Yes, about your marriage.” 

“Papa. I already told you I will not marry Mr. Lee-”

“The date has been set. You will marry Lee Minho in one month’s time.”

My jaw dropped in disbelief. “Father!” He didn’t even look up from his work. “Do not ‘Father’ me. You knew this was going to happen. You will marry Mr. Lee. You will do as your told. It is your duty as a woman of this household.” What? My what?

“My duty as woman?” 

“Yes.”

“Father, I have no duty as woman. Especially to you. I will not marry a man who I do not love. It is not my duty to obey your every command!” This was when he chose to look at me. His eyes turned cold. “Y/n L/n. You are my daughter. You will do as I say!” Rage filled every inch of my body. “No! I will control my own life! I will not marry him and that is final! Times are changing. It is time you changed with them, Father!” The sound of his chair screeching against the wood floor made me flinch. “We are a family of tradition! I will not let your silly misguided modern values change our family!”

His voice boomed loud enough for the entire estate to hear. “What would mother think of this! She would never-” “DO NOT BRING YOUR MOTHER INTO THIS!” A book  flew across the room. Never the less I stood  my ground, staring straight back at him even though tears threatened to spill over my eyes. 

“I wouldn’t have to if you would just be-” 

“If you are going to continue this kind of behavior then I want you out of Whitewater until you come to your senses!” 

A silence followed; the kind that hurt. The kind you could feel- like needles plunging into your skin. Rain continued to fall on the roof and windows like bullets. 

“So be it.” 

With word I stormed out of the study and towards the door. Shouts from the staff could be heard behind me as I burst through the doors and out into the rain. “My lady! Y/n!” Carson called. My feet carried me to the stables. Grabbing a saddle and mounting the closest horse I rode out into the storm.

Finally able to let tears flow away from any eyes, I screamed. Never had I felt so much agony. My own father was shunning me. The man I admired had abandoned me and was sent to war. The man I despised was forcing me into marriage. My skin burned as harsh rain pelted against it. The wind blew through my hair pulling it loose.

Even through all this pain it felt...freeing. It felt amazing to run through the forest outside of Whitewater, thunder rolling in the air and rain showering down. My heart still wretched in pain. I missed my family, despite our arguments. Most of all I missed Mr. Han, despite our many many differences.

A loud crack boomed through the sky and a flash of white burst in front of my horse. I screamed as the horse  reared, throwing me off its back onto the forest floor. I felt a pain against the back of my head upon impact. The horse sprinted away in fear leaving me stranded. 

“Help!” I screamed into the dark. My legs struggled to hold themselves up and my vision started to become blurry. It became indecipherable what was rain or tears on my cheeks.

The world started to spin as I walked forward. I must have been ‘walking’ for hours. The cold had started to set in and the rain showed no sign of stopping. By now I was miles away from Whitewater and the closest estate was fifteen miles east.

“Help me...” 

My dress was getting heavier and heavier despite the fabric being so light before. It clung to my skin and my hair hung in dark wet strands in front of my face.  Over the thundering storm I thought I heard hoof beats through the forest. I must have been hallucinating. Not being able to hold myself up anymore, I leaned against a tree.

“Y/n?” 

Definitely hallucinating. I was even hearing his voice now. How did I remember what his voice sounded like? Exhaustion started to set in, the pain and cold making my eyes droop and my body feel even heavier. 

“Y/n? Y/n, where are you?” 

Through my blurry vision I thought I saw the outline of a horse and rider wearing a dark navy coat. “Y/n!” My strength was wearing thin. Taking a chance, that it wasn’t my imagination I pushed myself off the tree and stumbled forward. “Oh god! Y/n stay where you are I’m coming!”

Hooves pounded against the ground growing closer. My head started ti spin even more as the rider jumped off his horse and rushed to me. Before I could fall, I was taken in a pair of strong arms. The edges of my vision started to blackout, my hearing came in and out, and my body shivered trying to keep itself warm. The person clutched me to their chest and pushed the wet pieces of hair away from my face, desperation in their deep voice. “Miss L/n? Y/n, can you hear me? I’ve got you now. I’m here.”

My throat felt dry. “The Colonel...he-he didn’t write to me. I’m...I’m still waiting for his letter. I can’t leave...” The rider sighed and I tried to make out his face. “Do you know Colonel Han? He told me not to get married...so I didn’t...” The words came out in slurs but they came out nonetheless. The rider clutched my head to their chest gently. 

“I know, darling, I’m sorry.” He gently laid me on the forest floor and took off his coat wrapping it around me. “I couldn’t even though I wanted to.” Gently he picked me up as if I weighed nothing and moved over to the horse. Through my haze I heard him curse. Even in my state I knew there was no way he could get myself and him on the horse safely. 

“Stay with me, darling.” I tried to focus on the rider’s words as he tried to figure out how to get me to safety. The exhaustion won out, leaving me in the darkness. 

Colonel Han kept his head. He couldn’t panic. Not even when he saw her eyes close shut. “Damn.” His dark hair clung to his forehead as he searched for a solution. She wouldn’t last much longer. Her body was already freezing in his arms. 

His horse was too high to lift her up and Ruxfield was too far to walk. Why was she outside of Whitewater in the first place? In a storm? Whitewater. Whitewater was no more than five miles away. He could make it there. Forgetting about his exhaustion from the ride back from the front line, Jisung adjusted the woman in his arms, resting her head against his chest and his arms under her legs, he began walking all the way back to Whitewater. 

His arms and legs burned as he climbed over the last hill. He couldn’t help but smile as he saw Whitewater in the distance through the rain. “We are almost there, darling. Hold on for me.” He just had to hold on long enough to reach Whitewater. To see Y/n was alright.

With his last burst of energy, Jisung burst through the front doors of Whitewater. “HELP! I need a physician! Someone help!” Several staff including Carson rushed up to him, seeing Y/n in his arms. “Quickly, upstairs!” he said, making a path for Jisung. She shivered in his arms as he carried her down the hall and up the stairs. 

“Harriet call the physician! Tell him it’s an emergency!” A girl he had scene with Y/n before nodded and rushed to call a doctor. “Y/n! Where is she! Y/n!” Cecilia called rushing to the Colonel. “Cecilia, love, move!” Chan said wrapping the woman in his arms. “Where is Father? He should be here!” She said as they moved passed her. “Your father left for London.” Carson said. 

Carson rushed to push open the door to the girl’s bedroom. The Colonel gently placed the girl on her bed and let the staff rush around the room to help her. All he could do was watch as the only woman he had thought about for the past four months lay helpless on her bed, shivering. 

A pair of strong hands pushed him softly out of the room and into the hall. He looked up to find Chan. “Han, you are freezing.” “I am fine,” He tried to get a look back into the room, but a maid closed the door. “You need to rest. You just returned on leave.” 

“Chan I will be fine!” 

Reluctantly, the man left Jisung alone in the hall. He watched as people walked in and out of the room, rushing with towels, blankets, wet clothes, new clothes, even hot kettles. Soon a physician arrived and entered her room. It felt like hours that Jisung had waited outside her door. Finally the girl, Harriet, walked out. She jumped when he grabbed her arm.

“Give me an occupation miss-or I shall go mad.”

Taking in the man’s tired state she handed him a towel. “The doctor says Ms. L/n hit her head and has a serious case of hypothermia.” She watched as Mr. Han sighed and ran a hand through his wet shaggy hair. “Please let me do something. Anything.” All she could offer was the smallest smile. 

“You’ve done all you can possibly do. Thank you for saving my mistress.” 

With a sorrowful nod he watched as she walked away. “We would be happy to set up a room for you, sir. We would be happy to keep you updated on how the lady is doing.” He gave Harriet a kind smile. “That would be very generous, Miss. I’ll only be staying for the two nights, if that is alright. I have orders to return to the line.” With a nod, Harriet went to prepare a room for the Colonel.

During those two days, Mr. Han never left her side. He stayed by her bedside helping Harriet and Cecilia with anything they asked. One the morning of his departure he gave Cecilia the name of his personal carrier. “If there is any change please let me know. The letter will go directly to me.” She nodded and took the piece of parchment watching the Colonel leave once again.

Sunlight streamed through my window. My head pounded and my body still felt cold.  Slowly I slipped out of my bed, feet placing themselves slowly on the cool wood floor. “You are awake!” Cecilia screamed. Rushing over she practically tackled me back onto my bed. “Cecilia, the baby!” “Oh I don’t care you are okay! Thank heavens you are okay!” 

I couldn’t help but smile as she hugged me. “Chan will kill you if you hurt his child before it’s even born.” “Shhhhhhhh! Not now. My sister has returned from the dead.” Laughing she hugged me even harder. 

“Oh! I almost forgot.” She pulled away and rushed to my dresser. When she returned she had a letter in her hands. “This came for you yesterday. You have been asleep for almost a week. You needed quite a lot of rest. I don’t blame you.” She handed me the envelope with a small smile. “Wait, where are you going?” I asked as she started to leave my room. “I think I should leave you alone with that.” Something about her smile made me laugh.

My shaking hands opened the letter with my name addressed on it in rough but elegant handwriting. When I opened it the familiar smell of gunpowder and old parchment reached my nose. The same handwriting greeted me as I read the letter.

“Miss Ln,

I have written this letter many times, but have been a coward to not send it. I had hoped I would be home to say this-but it seems Napoleon has different plans than I. 

Miss L/n, I would like to apologize from the bottom of my heart. There were a thousand times I wanted to write to you, but events on the front line prevented me. I would like to apologize for not getting to you sooner that day. I wish I had been there soon for you, my darling. 

I pray that by the time you get this letter you are not yet married to that insolent pitiful disgrace of a man. Though the timing may be off I have something to ask of you. Something to confess...

Miss L/n you have bewitched me- body and soul. To what time I fell so deeply under your spell, I cannot recall. I know not the hour or the spot or the words or even the look that lay the foundation. I was in the middle before I even began. What a proud fool I was. To think my stubbornness was the only thing keeping me from you.  In vain I have struggled, but it will not do. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and...love you.

It seems as if the only thing keeping me alive in this battle is the image of you smile. I would die a thousand deaths for that smile.

I have heard your father’s news of your wedding. I beg of you. Do not follow through. I hope that perhaps there is something I can offer. Miss L/n...should I return, I would like to humbly request for your hand. I know I have no right to you, nor should any man. You are the most strong woman I have ever had the pleasure and fortune of meeting, and to me it makes you the most beautiful woman to walk this earth. 

I hope to hear from you soon, my darling. Until then, I shall be fighting for the day that I do. I long for the day I am home. 

In hope,

Han Jisung”

I sat in disbelief. Colonel Han Jisung had written me a letter professing his love. He proposed... Leaving the letter on my  bed I walked to the window. The audacity. To ask me over a letter? A knock sounded at the door pausing my pacing. “Enter,” Harriet paused when she saw the look on my face. “Miss, what’s the matter.”

“Harry, I believe I have a serious decision to make.” 

 Months passed. Summer turning into mid fall. Father’s supposed wedding date for me had long passed. Each time Mr. Lee had visited Carson had turned him away. More letters from the Colonel had arrived, but they all said the same thing and soon they came to a stop. Cecilia had given birth not to long ago, to a beautiful baby boy. Chan and my sister had named the child Benjamin. 

News came that the war ended, England victorious. Soon I would be expecting a visitor. I sat in the garden with my sketchbook, drawing the few flowers that were left in the beds among other things. A certain face had popped up in the pages of my book several times. “Miss Y/n,” I looked up to see Carson walking down the pathway. 

“You have a visitor.”

A smirk fell across my lips. “Well, I believe I have been expecting him so let us not keep him waiting any longer.” With a smile, Carson returned into the house to fetch my guest. Patiently, I waited for the guest to come out and see me. I heard the sound of boots against the stone pathway and smiled.

“Good afternoon, Colonel.”

“Yes, indeed, Miss L/n.”

There was a nervous expression on his face. Once again he looked like he had just returned from active duty. His dark hair had grown a little longer and he wore the same navy overcoat again. His shirt underneath was covered in black powder and some of the buttons were undone to reveal his tan and slightly toned chest. Yes, definitely just returned. Returned with no time to change apparently. 

Quickly I brought my attention back to my sketchbook in hopes that it would hide the heat spreading on my cheeks. “Did...you receive my letters?” Self control regained, I turned my attention back to Mr. Han. “Why yes, Colonel Han, I did in fact receive several letters.”

“And you are not married...”

“No, I am not.”

The man stood perfectly still in military fashion, his hands clasped behind his back. “Well are you going to speak? You certainly did not come to Whitewater just to stare at me did you?” Shock crossed Han’s face. It was evident he had not expected me to speak to him like this. It was fun to see the stoic Colonel flustered. 

“I came to ask you response. You never wrote back to me.” I shrugged, getting off the bench. “Response? I don’t remember ever being properly asked a question.” He sighed running a hand through his hair, a habit that I had missed while he was away. “I do recall asking-” “No, Colonel Han. You requested. You, sir, never asked me anything. So why should I dignify you with a response.” 

Maybe it was the smile, or the slight twinkle in my eye, but he laughed. A sound that I had never heard from the man. It made me want to memorize every sound and feature of his face when he laughed. “Then, should I ask you properly, Miss L/n?” It was a genuine question, not of simple jest. “There is no harm in questions.” He took a deep breath and looked me in the eyes. 

“Miss L/n, will you please allow me the great honor of making you my wife?”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

His eyes widened at my quick response. “I’m sorry Colonel, but I cannot promise to be any man’s wife who sits prettily in a corner and who is expected to obey every word he says. I won’t be expected to just sit around waiting for you-...him- to come home.” 

“Wherever you are is my home; my only home.”

There was sincerity in his eyes. Love. “Mr. Han,” He sighed taking my hands in his. Though his touch was still unfamiliar, it felt sure and safe. “Miss L/n, please let me speak.” He practically begged. I waited silent for him to continue.

“I am half in hope and half in agony. If your feelings are still what I assumed they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged but one word from you will silence me on the subject forever.” He searched my eyes for an answer. 

“Miss L/n, I am in love with you more than you will ever know. I want nothing more than to be with you. To wake up to every morning- to fall asleep next to you every night. To stand next to me, not behind me. I am in love with your wit, and your charm, and how you always keep me on my toes more than any battle ever has. I am in love with your modern values and your spontaneity.” Han’s hands were rough against mine, his slender fingers ghosting over my skin.

“Y/n...Will you marry me, and do me the honor of letting me be your husband?”

Han’s dark eyes looked into mine- indeed half in agony and half in hope. He looked at me as if everything in the world that mattered to him was standing in front of him. The look in his eyes couldn’t help but make me smile. I was in love with Colonel Han Jisung and it couldn’t be helped.

“Yes,”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

“Really?” He asked. “Of course.” He smiled and looked down at his hands still gently holding mine. “May I?” He asked softly, glancing between my eyes and my lips. It only took a small nod for him to act, pressing his lips softly onto mine. My head begin to feel dizzy in the best way. His fingers traveled up the bare skin of my arms and then down to rest on my waist, bringing me closer. Han smiled as my hands pressed against his chest, kissing him back. 

“I love you, Jisung. With all my heart.”

“It took you long enough to say it, my darling.”

El Fin

Requests are open my lovelies!

Masterlist

#han jisung #han jisung imagine #han jisung imagines #han jisung au imagine #han jisung au edit #han jisung regency #han jisung regency au #rubber ducky you're the one #stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids au imagine #stray kids au imagines #stray kids preferences #stray kids reactions #minho imagines #han jisung fluff #han jisung angst #han jisung smut #stray kids history au #stray kids fantasy au #kpop imagine #kpop imagines #kpop au imagines #felix imagines #han imagines #jisung imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids masterlist

[ottomanladies]

The haseki sultan was ranked below the valide?when the absence of a valide, a haseki could hold as much as power like a valide?When the haseki was abolished after the kadins werent as powerful as hasekis?Why just the valide got the sultan title from the non-imperial women? A haseki in the presence of a valide was just a well paid consort basically?it will be a tough question but how can you explain and compare the pre sultanate of women ranks with the sultanate of women and the late periodranks?

There is so much to unpack here, I will try my best (though I think I have already answered all of these questions)

I'm afraid this will be very long.

The haseki sultan ranked right below the valide sultan, as she was the only consort who had been accorded the title of sultan, reserved to members of the Dynasty. In the Ottoman empire the valide sultan was the first woman in the empire because she was the mother of the sultan himself. Her titles indeed included things like the great cradle or the nacre of the pearl of the sultanate.

I don't think a haseki sultan can ever replace a valide sultan, but Nurbanu's tenure as haseki is certainly interesting in this respect:

Yet that station [wedded wife of Selim II] still fell short of the highest echelon that an Ottoman royal woman could reach, that of a Valide. Nurbanu devised an ingenious solution to create that effect, which consisted of transmitting her two-pronged identity, as Selim’s Haseki and Murad’s Valide, pari passu. It will be recalled from Cavalli’s relazione in Cronaca Lippomano mentioned above, in which he stressed Nurbanu’s flaunting in of her twin titles in one breath, “Wife of the Signor” and “Mother of Sultan Murath.” She continued this practice for some time, eventually dropping the first component, Haseki, and keeping only the second element of the composite title, Valide. This transformation is evidenced in a mühimme entry dated 23 Ramadan 973 (1570) involving the procurement o f marble to be used in the construction of Nurbanu’s pious architectural project, the Atik Valide. In this document Nurbanu refers to herself exclusively as “mother of my son, the estimable son Murad, ” while it was her husband, not her progeny, who was ruling as Padishah when the construction was under way. As for Selim, acting on behalf of the Valide Sultan, orders the kadıs of Sabancı and Iznikmid to collect without delay all the marble from the fields, meadows, and dilapidated buildings of their bailiwicks, fully compensating their eligible owners, while refraining from harming any occupied residences. [...] Necipoğlu has discovered a number of imperial decrees issued by Selim II pertaining to the construction o f the Atik Valide Mosque Complex in which Nurbanu is referred to as the Valide Sultan, although it is her husband who is the reigning monarch and not her son. — Pinar Kayaalp-Aktan, The Atik Valide Mosque Complex: A testament of Nurbanu's prestige, power and piety

I personally don't believe that Nurbanu was acting as valide sultan; on the contrary, she was acting as a European queen consort and more or less like Hürrem: that she started to build her mosque during Selim II's reign (like Hürrem had done) and that she was known as the mother of the sultan's son... I think Nurbanu has more similarities with Hürrem than we'd usually think.

On the other hand, we cannot forget that Mihrimah was still alive and that she was a point of reference for Selim:

New sultans made their way to the harem at the earliest opportunity after arriving in the capital: Selim II sought his sister Mihrimah (his mother Hurrem had died eight years earlier), and both Murad and Mehmed conferred with their mothers. This urgency no doubt reflected the new sultans' need to he informed of the political situation in the capital by a trusted ally, as well as their desire to be reunited with loved ones. It also reflects the importance of female elders in the hierarchy of the imperial household. — Leslie P. Peirce, The Imperial Harem: Women and Sovereignty in the Ottoman Empire

It is also interesting that on the inscription of her mosque in Üsküdar, Mihrimah is hailed as "protector of the state and the world and the faith".

So, while Nurbanu lived in Topkapı with Selim and started to build her mosque, the Atik Valide; Mihrimah was instrad in the Old Palace, overseeing the harem of her brother.

So I personally think that the duties of a valide sultan were shared between Mihrimah and Nurbanu.

The kadıns are a different thing from the haseki. First of all, they do not carry the title of sultan, and secondly they are not as special because there are at least 4 of them (actually, they weren't limited by number at first). Of course here we're talking about the great hasekis: Hürrem, Nurbanu, Safiye, Kosem... and Emetullah Rabia Gülnüş too).

The presence of more than one haseki was a significant change in the reigns of Murad and Ibrahim, signaling that the age of the favorite was coming to an end. In this period the meaning of the title haseki begins to shift from a single "favorite" to something more general like "royal consort." similar to the earlier khatun. This title deflation was a sign of the return of an earlier principle of royal reproduction, that of a number of concubines roughly equal in status. That other concubines were no longer consigned to languish in the shadow of a favorite is suggested not only by the fact that each was endowed with the title haseki but also that their stipends were on the whole equal. While the contrast between the stipend of Nurbanu, Selim II's haseki, and that of the mothers of his other sons was enormous (at the end of Selim's reign Nurhanu received eleven hundred aspers a day but the others a mere forty aspers), Murad's two hasekis and Ibrahim's eight hasekis received roughly equal stipends at the one-thousand-asper level and higher.

By the end of the seventeenth century the title haseki was falling out of official use and was being replaced by the less elevated title kadın. A set hierarchy was emerging according to which the sultan's first concubine (or the mother of his first child, but not necessarily his first son) was known as "head consort" (baş kadın) and subsequent concubines as "second consort" (ikinci kadın) and so forth. A distinctive feature of this settled pattern of the late seventeenth and eighteenth centuries is that the one mother-one son principle continued to be observed virtually without exception. — Leslie P. Peirce, The Imperial Harem: Women and Sovereignty in the Ottoman Empire

The kadıns would never reach the hasekis' influence and powers because the Ottoman succession system had gone from open to strict seniority. There was no need anymore for the sultan's consort to be that powerful so as to influence statesmen in the open succession, because her son would never succeed his father— not directly, anyway.

Öztuna says that the title of kadın appeared in 1703, with Ahmed III's reign, but Peirce was able to find harem documents from Süleyman II's reign in which his consorts are all titled kadın. Ahmed II's consort Haseki Rabia Sultan is, indeed, the last haseki sultan of the empire.

Comparison of harem hierarchies

For simplicity we're going to analyse the harem hierarchy of Bayezid II for the pre-sultanate of women period, during whose reign the princesses had acquired the title of sultan.

Mother of the sultan: before the reign of Süleyman I, the mother of the sultan did not have a specific title. She just ranked higher than other members of the harem because she was the mother of the sultan and she was the manager of the harem, of course.

Imperial princesses: they were the only women to carry the title of sultan (bestowed upon them by Bayezid II himself)

Concubines with children / childless concubines: they held the title of hatun, which can roughly be translated as lady.

Simple concubines: by this I meant that they lived in the harem but they had not been bedded by the sultan. We call them cariyes: slaves without a status

the harem during the Sultanate of Women:

Valide Sultan: the mother of the sultan, she oversaw the harem and was the highest-ranking woman in the empire

Haseki Sultan: the favourite consort. She was either the mother of the eldest son (like Emetullah Rabia Gülnüş, Nurbanu and Safiye) or just the most beloved consort of the sultan (like Hürrem, Kösem and Rabia). She usually had several children because with her the sultan did not follow the one mother-one son rule

Imperial princesses: they ranked below the haseki sultan, because the haseki was the mother of a potential sultan

Concubines of non-haseki rank who are mothers of children: their title was hatun (lady) and their stipend was ridiculously lower than the haseki's. They usually could not afford to undertake building projects but they could sometimes fund prayers recitals in mosques or minor charities.

Childless concubines of non-haseki rank: their title was hatun as well but of course as they weren't mothers of imperial children their rank in the harem was lower.

Gözdes: bedded concubines. They resided in Topkapi Palace because they were "in the eye of the sultan", as their names means. Either they got pregnant and therefore moved back to the Old Palace or they kept sharing the sultan's bed until he a) got tired of them or b) got pregnant.

Simple concubines: the cariyes. They are title less and without a status.

the harem in the XIX century:

For simplicity, we’re going to consider a harem of the late Ottoman empire, when the hierarchy was more or less firmly established.

Valide Sultan: the sultan's mother, she carried the title of sultan and her title in European contexts was Her Imperial Majesty. She is considered the only empress in the empire

Imperial princesses: the sultan's daughters or the daughters of princes. They ranked by seniority and their European title was Their Imperial Highnesses.

Senior Consort (baş kadın): usually the first consort the sultan had bedded or the mother of the eldest child. Her European title was Her Majesty, and she was considered like a queen consort. She retained the title all her life unless she divorced from the sultan.

The other three kadıns: they were numbered by seniority (that is, when they married the sultan), their European titles was Their Majesties, just like the Senior Consort— though of course the Senior Consort ranked higher than them and if the valide sultan wasn't alive she would manage the harem in her stead. In the XVIII century they could be more than 4: we have cases of a fifth kadın or a sixth kadın. Nakşıdil Kadın was the eighth Imperial consort of Abdülhamid I

Daughters of Imperial princesses (Hânım-Sultân): they ranked by seniority and their title meant that their father was a subject but their mother was a member of the Dynasty. When they married, their husbands could not use the title of damad, and their children did not hold any title or privilege.

First Ikbal (baş ikbal): the 5th consort of the Sultan. If the 4th kadın dies, she can take her title and therefore jump class. Her European title was Her Highness, therefore being considered like a "princess" consort.

The other 3 ikbals: they were numbered by seniority and titled Their Highnesses. Technically they were not limited by number, actually it was rare that there were more than 4 ikbals.

consorts of princes: the first 4 were titled hanımefendi, with the first being titled Başhanımefendi and addressed by her title and not by name. The Başhanımefendi of the eldest prince alive was the highest-ranking consort among the consorts of princes. The other three consorts were addressed by "name + Hanımefendi". After the fourth consort, the other women the prince bedded were considered odalisques and without a status. Their European title was Their Highnesses.

First gözde (baş gözde) + the other 3 gözdes: the sultan's consorts from the 9th to the 12th. Their title means "in the eye of the sultan" and they're the most recent favourites the sultan has. They were not limited by number and did not rank by seniority. They were addressed by Hanımefendi.

First Peyk (baş peyk) + the other peyks: the last class of consorts, they are not very usual because it's strange for a sultan to have more than 12 consorts alive at the same time. They were addressed by Hanımefendi and rank the lowest among the consorts with the hanımefendi title. They usually are not mothers of children.

Simple concubines: also called odalisques or chamber maids. They have no title and no privileges. They're exactly like the cariyes of the previous periods.

As you can see, the harem hierarchy became more complicated and rigid as time progressed. The necessity of a hierarchy so complicated as the one of the late Ottoman empire arose from the fact that sultan's consorts were increasingly taken by foreign noble families so they were actually princesses before marrying the sultan. It was necessary for each and one of them to have a status within the harem because they were not just nameless slave concubines.

Sources for the hierarchies: Harun Açba - Kadin Efendiler, Juliette Dumas - Les perles de nacre du sultanat, Yılmaz Öztuna - Devletler ve Hanedanlar

#anon #ask post #ask: ottoman history #ottoman harem #late ottoman empire #Anonymous

[varricmancer]

Intertwined | 1

*** Cross-posted on AO3 *** 

Pairing: Farkas x F!OC

Summary: A child of Mara was a soul blessed and bound to its mate for all eternity. Elizabeth Williams is summoned to Mara as a lost soul, only she's from modern America and her mate is somewhere in the wilds of Skyrim.

A/N: Yes, I know I have other works that need to be finished, but I couldn't get this idea out of my head. So here we go. I'll probably change the summary eventually, because right now it sounds cringy and childish, but I really wanted to get this out.I LOVE Elder scrolls and I've been playing the games since I was little, reading everything I could get my hands on, play ESO regularly even. I'm not saying I'm an expert, because I am SO not ( I have a horrible memory ), but I'm saying that I'll try not to mess up the world too much. If there are things that I can't figure out in ES lore, I'll probably fill it in with Norse lore so be warned ahead of time.I hope you enjoy this story. I LOVE Farkas and I wanted to start my first venture into writing ES with him. In my head this is going to be a huge series with different couples as soulmates. Vilkas is going to get his story after I finish this one ;)

***

When she had gone to bed that night, nothing about her day had been different from any other.  

She’d come home from her shift at the restaurant where she’d been working for ten years feeling like her back and feet were going to fall off. She’d taken a long soak in the tub as she thought about her job and how much of a dick her boss was for not giving her the raise he’d promised - or the interview for the sous chef position. She’d bet her life savings he was going to offer it to the incredibly annoying fake blonde Commis Chef they’d hired just last year, only because she kissed his ass and sent him flirty smiles all the time. Probably more, who knows.

After her bath she’d eaten a fast and easy dinner of kimchi fried rice using leftover rice and bacon, with two whole eggs because she deserved it.

Then she’d gone to bed with some crime show on in the background that she hadn’t even paid attention to and had fallen asleep quickly due to exhaustion. She'd been too tired to even think about playing one of her games.

And now - now she was currently experiencing one of the weirdest dreams she’d ever had in her life. Maybe it was her mind trying to cope with stress or just the result of eating bacon before bed.

It wasn’t so much the setting that was odd. It was actually really pleasant. A vast meadow filled with plants and wonderful smelling flowers that she’d never seen before. Butterflies flit through the air around her and all the colors were so vividly amped up they were practically glowing. Little creatures that she didn’t recognize would often peer around a bush or run along her path, watching her curiously. How odd that none of them seemed very afraid.

She followed a little stone pathway, simply strolling along as she admired her surroundings. When she’d read The Secret Garden as a girl, she’d often pictured a place like this. Calm and beautiful. Of course, she’d always added elaborate stone kitchens because even in her imagination she had to be cooking something.

Suddenly, strange balls of golden light began to appear and float around her. But somehow, she wasn’t worried or afraid. They felt...familiar, almost.

“You have finally arrived. Welcome, Elizabeth.”

She turned towards the voice, finding a strange-looking but strikingly beautiful woman standing near a large statue. She almost looked like someone cosplaying or attending a ren fair with her medieval clothes. She kind of reminded her of an older version of the Princess from Braveheart, actually. She was smiling down at her in an almost motherly fashion and Elizabeth thought for a moment that she should find it weird how tall the woman seemed to be. Nearly nine feet at least. That was weird, right? And was she...glowing?

“Where am I?”

“In my home. I am Mara and I called you here to correct a wrong.”

The only Mara she knew was from a video game. “A wrong?”

The woman gestured towards the golden orbs that continued flying around them both slowly like they were happy to be in her presence.

“These are the souls of my children waiting for their turn to return to their beloved. While many decide to simply live one lifetime and then rest their souls in the realm of their choosing, there many still that are bonded to another and choose to live again with each other.”

“Soulmates. Yeah, I’ve heard the concept in fanfics and cheesy television. What does that have to do with me?” Elizabeth rolled her eyes, playing along somewhat. Of course, if this had been real she would probably be scared off her ass right now, but since this was a dream she could be as sassy as she wanted.

The woman merely folded her hands together and graced her with a patient smile, making her feel like as ass.

“You are one of those bonded souls. However, I believe that either someone disrupted your cycle or stole you from me completely because you were not only in the wrong timeline but in the wrong realm as well.”

Elizabeth’s heart ached with longing. A soulmate...for her?

Even her dreams mocked how lonely she was.

The woman turned and waved her hand and suddenly a big orange...thingy...appeared. Kinda looked like a certain eye. Her dream was pulling out all the stops today, huh? She hadn’t even watched Lord Of The Rings in years. She guessed it also kinda looked like an Oblivion gate from her Elder Scrolls games.

“I have opened the door for you to return to your mate. I am sorry that it took so long. You must have been lonely.”

Elizabeth swallowed thickly, thinking back on all of her wasted years with the wrong people. On her mom. On her brother that she couldn’t find.

“Yeah.”

Somehow the woman suddenly seemed to become smaller, although still towering over her. She leaned down and pressed a light kiss to Elizabeth’s forehead before guiding her gently towards the door. It looked more like a gate to hell than something that would lead to anything good.

“Go forth, child of Mara, and be reunited with your love.”

Elizabeth Williams exhaled shakily and stepped through the blazing door before she realized the woman had never even told her how to find her soulmate or what his name was.

Good thing this was only a dream.

***

#skyrim #farkas #farkas skyrim #farkas x oc #farkas x reader #elder scrolls #farkas fanfic #skyrim fanfic #mgis #modern girl in skyrim #intertwined #soulmate au #varricmancer

[branwen-lavellan]

Surprise Kiss

Day 10 of @14daysofdalovers prompts.  Dorian/Lavellan.

This scene is from a future project and takes place around a year and a half after Trespassers.  In my world state, the Duke of Wycome betrayed the Inquisition and had Clan Lavellan all but wiped out as part of a political plot.  The game mentions that there is little to know sign of what remains of the clan, implying they are almost entirely wiped out.  I tweaked things a bit from there.

Elba Lavellan, who was also adopted by the same man that took in Branwen when her parents were killed, lived with the clan as First to the Keeper.  When the “bandits” strike, Deshanna stays behind with the adults and instructs Elba to flee with the elders and children, naming him the new Keeper should they not survive.  Elba successfully saves part of the clan when Solas finds him.  Despite having broken things off with Branwen and deserting the Inquisition, Solas seeks to protect what remains of the clan as a favor to the woman he still loves.  It’s around this time that other elves around Thedas begin disappearing to join Solas’s army, so I have made the conclusion that the survivors of Wycome’s attack have joined Fen’harel.  

This scene takes place after Branwen and Elba have been reunited in a future scenario that I am working on.  Branwen still seeks to change the Dread Wolf’s heart, but, has been thus far unsuccessful.  Though Elba was initially loyal to Solas, the man who, in his mind, saved his clan, he ultimately joins Branwen and Dorian on their quest to save Thedas.  

Sorry for the long backstory, but I wanted to give context to this scene.  I fear it may not make sense without an explanation of my world state.  

Elba walked away from the campfire, retreating to the dark edges of the camp where his mount was tethered.  He wanted nothing more than to be left alone.  He was in the middle of nowhere with no one but his sister and a Shem for company, and it was more than he could bare.  How many times would his world crumble around him?  How many times would he be forced away from all he loved.

He would not lose Branwen again, of that much he was sure.  Not even if it meant traveling with a Tevinter Magister.

He’d met Dorian before, all those years ago, when Branwen was still Inquisitor.  If he were honest with himself, he might remember the butterflies that he’d felt with the Shem had walked into the room.  He might recall the devastation he’d felt when Branwen had told him that Dorian was with that Qunari - the Bull or whatever he was called.  None of it mattered now.  Not after all this time.  He’d assured Branwen as much.  There were no lingering feelings in Elba at all.

The look she had given him said she didn’t buy it.  Which was, of course, absurd.  He absolutely meant what he’d said.  There were no lingering feelings there, and Branwen should mind her own damn business.

Which is why he hadn’t sat anywhere near Dorian at camp.  And why he set up his tent as far from Dorian as possible.  And why he’d stalked off alone, in the dark, to the very outskirts of camp.  Would a man so over Dorian give Dorian so much space?

But Dorian was making it difficult, which was driving him mad.  When Elba had sat on the other side of the fire from him, Dorian’s eyes kept glancing to where he’d sat.  When he’d made up his tent, Dorian had offered to help.  And when he’d left to care for his mount, Dorian had followed.

Elba seathed.  He’d been through too much, was hurting too much for this to be the thing on his mind.  He wasn’t looking for anything.  He just wanted Dorian to leave him alone.  He turned only long enough to watch Dorian approach before he returned to brushing his mount. “What?” He spat. 

“The last we spoke, well, I thought you were Solas’s man through and through.  You said… well, we both remember what you said.  But now you’re here.  What changed?”

“My sister is here,” he said, coldly.  “She’s the only family I have left.”  He gritted his teeth, resolved to stay calm, to not betray his feelings - not about his heart, and definitely not about Solas.  Dorian was many things, but a graceful winner he was not.  Elba did not want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he was right on that front.  

But Dorian would press the issue, anyway.  “But you believe us, now, don’t you?  About Solas I mean?  You wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

Elba continued brushing his mount, but in his anger brushed a little harder than he meant to. The hart gave a loud shriek. His true feelings betrayed, he chucked the brush into the trees and spun on Dorian. “You were right!” he yelled, “You were right about everything.  Happy?  You were right!  So go ahead!  Gloat!  Rub it in and get it over with!”

Dorian’s brows furrowed, and there was genuine pain in his eyes.  “I’m not here to gloat.”. 

“Then why are you here?”

“Branwen sent me,” he said, “she wanted me to make sure you were ok.”

Elba scoffed. “Why would she send you?”

“Because she knows me all too well,” he said, “I think she knew I wanted an excuse to talk to you.”  

Elba didn’t pry further. Dorian’s statement was loaded, and he worried where it might lead.  “Well,” He scowled, “I’m fine.”

“Clearly,” Dorian said. “Because fits of rage are usually the best way to prove to the world that you’re fine.  ‘I’ll yell at the person asking me how I am.  Then he’ll have no doubts at all that I’m as happy as a lark!’”

“What do you want, Dorian?” he said, glaring at the pompous windbag of a man before him.  “What do you really want?”

An awkward silence lingered between them. The only sound was the rustling of his mount, the distant chatter round the fire, and the humming of cicadas.  At last, Dorian gave his answer.  It was straightforward in a way that Dorian so seldom was.  

“There is something I want,” he said, “And it’s selfish of me.  What you’ve been through… the choices you’ve had to make.  I don’t pretend to understand them, or the pain they’ve caused you.  But, I like you.  More than I should.  More than might be wise.   I don’t expect anything.  But I’m a bit of a fool, and I’ve begun to hope that this might go somewhere.  What I want is to know where this is going - this thing between us.  We end it here, I walk away.  I won’t be pleased, but I’d rather now than later.  Later might be dangerous.”

It wasn’t really what Elba had been expecting.  His mind was completely blank.  He sputtered out the word “Dangerous?” not meaning at all to ask for clarification.  He’d just said it, repeating it back, questioning not Dorian’s meaning, but the very fact that he had said anything at all.

Still, Dorian answered him.  “Walking away might be harder then.”

He watched as Dorian closed the gap between them.  He slipped a hand to the back of Elba’s neck and pulled him closer, pressing their lips together.  He only lingered a moment before Elba pulled away, eyes wide.

Dorian looked concerned.  “I’ve overstepped, haven’t I?  I’m sorry, for what it’s worth.”

Elba’s mind was still blank.

“This is Branwen’s fault, you know,” Dorian said with a hollow laugh.  “She was all but convinced you liked me.”

“I-”

“It’s no matter, Elba,” said Dorian, holding up his hands.  “I can certainly take the hint.  This is me, walking away.”  He stepped backwards, edging back towards the camp.  When he turned his head was hung low, his shoulders tense.

Elba watched, lost.  All these years, he’d thought of Dorian, and now, there he was with Dorian right in front of him, and he blew it.  “Wait!” he called.

Dorian turned back to him, a question on his brow.  

Elba was still gobsmacked.  His words tumbled out of him in a tangled mess.  At best, he managed, “I was just surprised, that’s all.”

Dorian raised an eyebrow.  “Oh?”

He looked back and forth between Dorian, his feet, and some speck of nothingness off in the middle distance, hoping that in the time his brain reeled, he might come up with a reason for why what just happened happened, or, better, a decent response to all of it.  “You like me?” he asked.

Dorian outright chuckled.  “I thought that much was obvious.”

Elba shook his head.  “Then what the fuck am I doing?”  He sprinted towards Dorian and grabbed his face with a smack, Dorian’s cheeks sandwiched between his palms.  He kissed him in what might have been the sloppiest kiss he’d ever managed.  He’d probably look back and be embarrassed, but he was too happy to care.  

Dorian broke free this time, laughing too hard to sustain contact.  “You had me going there a moment,” he said.

“Can you blame me?” said Elba, “Here I was, thinking there wasn’t a hope in the Void for the two of us, and here you go kissing me.  You can’t just do that with no warning.”

“But I absolutely can,” he said, “I just did.”

“I guess I can’t argue.”

Dorian traced the line of Elba’s mouth with his thumb.  “So, what exactly does this mean for us?”

“I think it means I like danger,” said Elba, his voice low.  

Dorian laughed.  “Then you shall have it, Amatus.”

Elba meant to ask what that meant, but he never got the chance.  Dorian’s lips were on his again, warm and inviting and everything he had ever hoped. 

#14DALovers #dorian pavus #dorian #branwen lavellan #elba lavellan #dorian x lavellan #set in the future

[allisondraste]

Temperance (8/?)

Pairing: Nathaniel Howe/ Female, Non-HoF Cousland

Story Summary:  Nathaniel and Elissa were childhood friends, but time and distance tore them apart. In the aftermath of the Fifth Blight, and Ferelden’s Civil War, both Elissa and Nathaniel must attempt reconstruct their tattered lives. As a series of events lead them to be reunited, both are reminded of so many years ago when things were much simpler.

Chapter Summary:   Young Liss is not pleased with the way the world works. 

First Chapter Previous Chapter [AO3 LINK]

Highever, 9:17  Dragon

“Lady Elissa, are you sure this is all right?”  The girl’s large, green eyes were wide with worry as she scanned the room around them. “Mamae says I’ll get in trouble if I leave the servants’ quarters.”

“Don’t be silly, Rila,” Liss said with a giggle, taking the other girl by the hand, “I won’t let you get in trouble.”

“If you say so, milady,” Rila answered, bowing her head but smiling.  Her skin was dark and her ears pointed like knives, but Liss wasn’t supposed to say so, even if she meant it as a compliment.  Papa said that a lot of humans in Ferelden, Orlais, and other places thought they were better than the elves and used mean slurs to put them down.  He told her that he expected his children to be better than that. She couldn’t imagine ever wanting to say something mean to Rila, or why anyone else would.

Liss led her friend outside and to one of her favorite hiding spots in the gardens, beneath willow trees where few people thought to look for her.  It was sunny and warm, especially for Ferelden, so the shade of the trees served as a comfort as well as concealment. Rila, despite reassurances, continued to look around them as if she expected someone to show up at any moment to punish her for daring to enter the gardens.  The elven girl moved from Denerim only a few months earlier, and Liss assumed she had simply not had time to learn that Highever was a much better place to be.

“What shall we play,” Liss asked, her voice not quite a whisper.

“Whatever you wish, milady,” Rila answered, eyes darting away as she spoke.

“You don’t have to call me that, you know? ‘Milady.’” Liss smiled and squeezed the girl’s hand. “You can call me Liss, just like everyone else.”

“I… I don’t think that’s a good idea, milady.”  Her voice trembled as if she were frightened, but Liss had not done anything scary.  Or had she?

“‘Course it is,” Liss exclaimed, “We’re friends, and you should call me by my name.”

Rila opened her mouth and prepared to speak, grin tugging at the corners of her mouth, but was interrupted by a rustling of the tree branches as they were pulled aside.  It was Liss’ mother, lips pursed tightly, brows drawn together as they always were when she was about to scold someone.

“Elissa, darling, you’re going to miss the tournament,” she said, her eyes darting back and forth between Liss and Rila.

“I don’t want to go, Mama,” Liss whined, “It’s not even a real tournament.  It’s just Fergus showing off against a bunch of boys smaller than him.”

“Elissa Odette, your brother has worked hard to hone his dueling skills.  You should be proud of him.”

“I am, but I want to play with my friend,”  Liss turned and offered a comforting smile to Rila, who looked even more terrified than before.

“Your friend,” she answered hesitantly, “Needs to be back in the servants quarters.  I am certain that her mother is worried about her.”

“But, Mama, we just--.”

“Come, let’s take Rila back to her mother,” she stated definitively, taking Liss by the hand and offering her other hand to Rila, “You will apologize for worrying her, and then you will attend Fergus’ tournament, do you understand?”

“Yes, Mama.”  Liss pouted and hung her head.

Rila’s mother was very grateful for her daughters return, accepting Liss’ apology before she even explained what happened.  She even seemed to suggest that it had been Rila’s fault. Liss attempted to protest, but her mother pulled her away gently.  Rila waved at her somberly before she turned to leave with her mother.

“Mama,” Liss said as she followed along happily with her mother, “Why do Rila and her Mama act so afraid of us?”

“Because they are afraid of us,” she said, more bluntly than Liss was used to.

“But why?”

“That’s,” she began, appearing to struggle to find words to explain, “Just how the world works.”

“The world is dumb,” Liss muttered under her breath, causing a serious look from her mother.  

The sparring ring was not too far from the gardens, a small, circular patch of dirt enclosed by a fence and surrounded by rows of wooden seats. They were used often for training, and sometimes for tournaments such as this one.  It allowed for young swordsmen to show off their prowess as they began to come of age. Liss knew she should be excited to watch her brother fight, and she was proud of him in her own way, but she also wished that she could be out there in the ring herself.

As she and her mother drew closer,  Liss’ eyes were immediately pulled to the far side of the ring, a glimmer of dark hair catching her eyes.  Nobody told her that Nathaniel had arrived for the summer, and her heart swelled with excitement. He had grown in the time since she had last seen him, looking taller, and lankier.  Next to him was the frightening man Liss had come to learn was his father, Rendon. He sat stiffly, pale blue eyes scanning his surroundings. Flecks of grey spattered his hair and brows.  He looked like a black vulture, menacing despite his elegant posture and poise. Liss wondered how her cheerful papa had ever become friends with him.

Still, a smile stretched across her mouth and she looked up at her mother for permission to go talk with Nate. She nodded her approval and Liss took off running  around the side of the ring and toward her friend.

“Nate,” she shouted, throwing her arms around him as soon as she reached him. It had become somewhat of a routine for them.  She would shower him with friendly affection, and he’d return it with a grumble she knew wasn’t real. He always hugged her back.

Except this time.  This time, he tensed up in her arms, frozen, an unmoving statue.  She released him and pulled away tilting her head and offering him a questioning look.  His blue eyes looked sad beneath stern brows and he frowned at her.

“What’re you doing,” he asked harshly,  pulling himself from beneath her grasp.

“I’m saying hi,” she answered.

“Then just say it,” he said, sounding annoyed with her, “You don’t have to touch me.”

“But… it’s what I always do.” Liss backed away from him, tears filling her eyes.  She held them back, not wanting to look like a baby in front of Arl Howe and everyone else present.

“And I always hate it.” Nate darted his eyes to his father and then back to her before turning away.

“Oh.”  She didn’t know what to say to him.  Had he just been pretending to be her friend this whole time? “Sorry.”

Arl Howe chuckled and leaned forward to look at Liss, as he placed a long-fingered hand on Nate’s shoulder.  “You’ll have to forgive Nathaniel, lovely girl,” he said softly as Nate sighed, fists clenched in his lap, “The boy has no sense for manners.”

“Nate has always been polite to me, my lord,” she said with a smile, “He’s probably just having a bad day.”

“Yes, well, how very gracious of you, my lady.  You are everything your father has spoken of and more, aren’t you?” Rendon raised an eyebrow and smiled, seeming to be amused by her statement though she didn’t know why. “Perhaps I should introduce you to my Thomas someday.”

“Thomas, Nate’s younger brother?” Liss was familiar with his siblings but did not know for certain that was who the elder Howe meant.

“Yes.  He’s a very charismatic child, much like yourself.”

“I’d love to meet him, my lord,” she answered cheerfully, “Delilah, too! Nate has told me all about them both.”

“I’m sure Nate has.” His words were cold and biting as a winter night, and Liss didn’t understand.  She certainly didn’t intend to ask. Vultures weren’t very nice birds.

One of Fergus training instructors bellowed the start of the spar, and Liss rushed back toward her mother and father, sitting down between them on a row right next to the fence.  She watched, enthralled, battle after battle, boy after boy. Fergus was easily the largest and most skilled. She wondered how it was even abt fun for him without a challenge.

“Papa,” she asked, eyes still locked toward the ring, “Why are there no girls sparring today?”

“Combat is not standard instruction for ladies, pup.” He tousled her hair and pinched her cheek.

“I want to learn sword-fighting,” she said determinedly, still watching the two boys swinging wooden weapons at one another in the ring.

“Are you sure? Wouldn’t you rather wear pretty gowns and raise children.”

Liss wasn’t sure if he was joking so she offered a defensive answer. “Mama does both.”  Her mother chuckled beside her.

“That she does, my girl.” He laughed and shook his head.  “That she does.”

“So will you let me learn to fight?” She drew her eyes away from the ring to look at her papa and bat her eyelashes. “Maybe I can be a, a knight or a Grey Warden when I get older. Like the Warriors from the stories!”

“I’ll tell you what, pup,” he said gently, “We’ll start with sword-fighting, and when you’re old enough you can decide what you want to do with your skills.”

Liss grinned excitedly, but her celebration was interrupted by a cheering of those on the benches as Fergus had bested his final opponent, and the small audience was rather more pleased than he was.  She knew her brother, knew that he wouldn’t feel he accomplished anything without a real challenge, so what he did next should not have been surprising.

Taking the sparring sword from one of his defeated opponents, he approached the fence toward the far side of the ring, pointing at Nate and saying something she could not quite make out.   Nate appeared to smile, accepted the sword and joined Fergus in the ring.

“Oh, Bryce,” Liss’ mother hissed softly, “Tell him to stop this nonsense.  Nathaniel is half his size. He’s just going to humiliate the poor boy, and in front of Rendon at that.”

“I don’t know,” he replied, a mischievous smile at his cheeks, “Have you seen how hard that boy practices? He might be the only boy here who might prove a challenge to our Fergus.”

“He practices with a bow.”

“And he agreed to the challenge. He could have said no, Eleanor.”

Her mother protested further, but Liss didn’t hear, her attention captured by the beginning of the fight in the center of the ring.  Like her mother, she had never seen Nate train with anything but a bow, but that didn’t mean much. Who knew what sort of lessons he got at home for the better part of the year.  She crossed her fingers and prayed to Andraste that he would beat Fergus. Maybe that would make Rendon proud of him.

Nate held the sword comfortably in his hand, and Liss heard her parents remark that they hadn’t realized “the boy” was left-handed, but she had known that for a while now.  He could shoot a bow with both hands, though, because he practiced. She figured he just wasn’t skilled enough with a sword to do that.

At the sound of a horn, Fergus made a swift swing at Nate, who ducked swiftly and backed away.  Fergus swung again, and Nate dodged again. Liss had no idea he could move that fast. The fight carried on as such for several more minutes a constant stream of swings and dodges.  Nate had not even used his sword once.

“Love, he fights like you,” her father laughed and looked at her mother who returned a grin.

“He’s smart.”

Liss stood and moved to the fence, grabbing the wooden planks in suspense.  Fergus was quite a bit taller than Nate, and had much more weight to him. He also had three years more experience with sparring.  It should have been an easy fight, but this was the first time she had seen Fergus struggle. At one point Nate tripped Fergus and someone in the audience shouted something about the boy fighting without honor.  She didn’t think it mattered to much of someone fought with honor, so long as they fought well.

Eventually, Fergus got the better of her friend, catching him one too many times and knocking him off balance.  Nate was good as long as he avoided contact, but as soon as he had to block, Fergus gained the advantage and sent him hurtling toward the ground.  Both boys laughed and Fergus offered him a good-natured hand up. In the distance, Liss caught a glimpse of Rendon shaking his head and wearing a disgusted expression before getting up and wandering away.  He wouldn’t even say goodbye to his son before he left.

After the match, Liss was free to play as she wished before supper, with the exception that she was not to “bother the little servant girl.”  She had huffed, but ultimately decided against getting either of them into trouble, returning to her hiding spot alone to braid flowers together into delicate crowns that would die before anyone wore them.  It was sad that flowers didn’t stay beautiful once they were plucked.

Normally, she would have sought out Nate, to see if he wanted to play, but she figured he didn’t.  She tried to forget the mean words he said to her before, but she couldn’t quite shake them. She told his father that he was probably just having a bad day, but she’d never actually seen him so upset by her affection.  She’d never actually felt like he wanted nothing to do with her until today. What if he never wanted to talk to her again?

Liss wiped away her tears with her finger tips, but they kept falling.  She wasn’t allowed to play with one of her friends, and her other friend hated her.  It was too much for her to keep in. She hugged her knees to her chest, hung her head and cried.  

A rustling of the branches drew her attention and she turned her head abruptly in the direction of the sound, expecting to see one or both of her parents coming to find her to wash up, but instead she found a familiar pair of bright blue eyes looking back at her.

“Thought you might be here,” Nathaniel said, ducking under the branches and sitting across from her.  “Your parents are looking for you. It’s time for supper.”

She turned her face away from him so he wouldn’t see the tears. “I’m not” she sniffled despite herself “hungry.”

“Liss,” he said softly, reaching out to touch her shoulder, “Are you crying?”

“No.” She sniffled again.

“Yes you are.” He peered around so that he could see her face. “What’s wrong?”

“What do you care?” More sniffles. “You don’t like me anyway.”

“Don’t be silly.” He grabbed her shoulder more tightly, shaking her playfully.  “Of course I like you.”

“Then why’d you act so mean earlier, huh?”  She was shouting, but she didn’t care.

“It’s,” he signed, “It’s my father.  I’m not sure why, but he doesn’t like that we’re friends.  I just… didn’t want to make him angry, is all. I’m afraid he won’t let me come back.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”  He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.  I should never have said those things to you.  I definitely didn’t mean them.”

“I forgive you,” she reassured him, content to know he was still her friend.

“Thank you.”

“On one condition.” She held up a finger playfully. “You have to wear this to supper.” She picked up one of the flower wreaths and sat it atop his head.  He grumbled, but seemed to resign himself to wearing it.

“Just this once, Liss.”  He sounded grumpy but she saw the hint of a smile on his lips.  

“You. Look. Beautiful,” she chirped, kissing him on the cheek before placing another crown on her head.  “And we match.”

It was difficult to see in the shade of the tree branches, but she was almost sure she saw a tint of pink across his face.

“I didn’t know you could fight with swords,” Liss said cheerfully, grabbing his hand as they walked together toward the dining hall.

“I can’t” Nate laughed, squeezing her hand in return.

#dragon age #dragon age origins #dragon age awakening #nathaniel howe #nathaniel howe x cousland #termperance #update #my writing

[kurojiri]

What we don’t say out loud first

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe; Spider-Man: Homecoming Gen: Tony Stark & Peter Parker, May Paker & Peter Parker Summary: Peter would know if he had a cleaning problem. Because, he didn’t. Prompt Used: Damage A/N: Amathophobia or Koniophobia: Fear of dust Word Count: 1,389

Or read on ao3 or ffnt

He didn’t think it had bugged him to the extent that people thought it did. Cleaning up after himself had always been a chore, a thing most teens would have rather left to the last second until they had to do it. Before then, Peter hadn’t care for it too much. He had done what he could remember and did what Aunt May persisted. But other than that, Peter used to have been just like any other teen.

And he still was! He was normal, with normal problems. Most of the time, for a teen superhero.

When he came back home, nothing too dramatic came out. Just pesky twitches. Odd moments when he needed everything clean.

No dust could stay. No dirt could linger. It couldn’t touch him.

No dust could touch him.

Peter Parker had been a semi-cleaning machine the longer he stayed at his apartment; but that was normal. He was a good friend too when he went to Ned’s and when he was out. He didn’t litter, and he was a good citizen for cleaning what he could for his community. Germs were gross, he didn’t have a problem. He just liked a clean, tidy space now more than before.

Happy was wrong. There was nothing wrong with him vacuuming the seats over again when he rode them or the subways. New York was known to be all over the place with hygiene. Flu seasons were terrible, and yes he knew he technically didn’t get sick like before, but listen. Just listen, Peter was just being careful. Did Mr. Stark caught that? Peter PArker was being careful.

Wasn’t that what they all wanted? For him to be careful whether he wore the suit or not? He was nailing it. Somebody should have given him a high-five or something. Anything to tell him he was doing fine. That he wasn’t damaged. Because he was awesome.

His Aunt May shouldn’t waste a breath on having to worry about anything else. Because when he had been in space—because, when he came back, he was alive. And Spider-Man. He couldn’t give her anymore to worry about. Not that there had been anything to worry about.

Couldn't they just believe him? He was fine. He was cool, and he was sure that somewhere over the rainbow they would see it too.

He didn’t need to see a therapist for that. What he did need to do was clean that computer desk, because it had been more than ten minutes and, oh boy was the flying dust coming down pretty hard now. Had it been always that light, so fast? It had touched his skin. Peter was not panicking. HE was Not PANickiNG.

He was just very passionate about maintaining a respectable and cLEAN home for his Aunt May. Nothing else, nothing else that could have been alarming. And when she came back home, Peter wished she had been happy that he had cleaned out all their apartment. There hadn’t been any dust left, hadn’t any reason why they couldn’t sit down and have a movie. It had been a normal day.

(It had to be.)

Ned was always a great friend. He had always enough distracting ideas to keep Peter moving. And when he had reunited with him after all that, it had been good. Not that Aunt May or Mr. Stark didn’t help. But it had felt that when he kept waking up they just couldn’t always understand him. Aunt May was his aunt, and Mr. Stark was well, not Peter. Adults had always been like.

They had all the wisdom they caught for themselves, and Peter had his own coming along. He didn’t take it for granted, he had been raised to respect his elders. So it hadn’t been that difficult to hear them, but Peter was also not a child. He could edit and ad lib them as he went along his merrier way. And, that had been where Ned came from.

Both of them had gone through a lot since they’ve first met. Had sleepovers, movie marathons etc. But Ned had also been his guy in the chair. His second eyes when Peter felt the need to have an extra boost. So it had made sense when the dust hit his face he would be there for him.

To help clean Ned’s room. To provide the wipes that he now liked to use when he ran out during a cleaning session. He was the best.

Days. Weeks. They all felt the same. Peter and Spider-Man went back to their lives. He went to school and aced what he did, and Spider-Man still helped out the city he loved. It had almost felt okay. That he could maybe tone down his cleaning.

One day he didn’t clean his work desk five times, but four and a half. That had been progress. (But he still insisted on cleaning the rails from the subway.)

Mr. Stark had been kind too. Gentle. Like it had been his fault that Peter twitched when flying debris swept his face, that when Peter had been Spider-Man he froze. The Villain of the day had won that night. And Karen, the best AI ever had betrayed him as she called Mr. Stark. That night hadn’t treated him good it all, it went back and forth, back and forth, right until Peter couldn’t stop scrubbing off the dust, the grime and all that dirt off his body. He knew it had looked bad.

When Peter didn’t hear him trying to calm him down, his arms had been warm. But they had debris too, clinging, touching him. Then they were gone. Cleaner than before and it had made Peter feel better. Just for a while, until he looked at his suit. Then he had to clean it. Had to make all that dust go away.

Because....because if the dust was gone, Peter was safe. He wasn’t there again. Back on Titan when he hadn’t felt so good. When all of himself had been slipping, being erased, and then gone. Gone. It had hurt.

It had hurt, Mr. Stark. IT had HURT MR. STARK! Why did that happen?

Why couldn’t he stop? Why did it hurt when he touched his suit? And, when had his Aunt May been called up?

He didn’t remember when she had hugged him. But he had been sure that his tears and hiccups had vibrated from her hug. He hadn’t known when he gained control of his meltdown, because, honestly that had felt terrible to not be one. Her perfume had calmed him. She had always been the best hugger. Had always been so kind.

Which had been why it hadn’t been fair that her nephew was him. That out of all the kids she could have been given to care for she got him: The Teen Superhero. The one that couldn’t stop cleaning.

It hadn’t been a problem. He knew that cleaning was a rare hobby for most people. But Peter really had thought that he just had grown to appreciate a cleaner atmosphere. Nothing had been wrong for that. To wanting to be a good kid.

He had to have been a good kid. Right? The apartment had looked really good since then. They couldn’t deny that, could not see how good he had been for that. Just like how the dust had been slowly losing the battle since he was faster at collecting it all and throwing it all away. He just had a minor breakdown, nothing worse than what PTSD he had for falling buildings. Peter knew when he had a problem, and his cleaning, was minor.

A simple thing he could stop when he wanted.

But he wouldn’t because then the dust would collect itself and touch him. And that would be bad. He could still be Spider-Man. He could still be Peter Parker. His cleaning wouldn’t stop him. Not that it had completely unnerved him that Mr. Stark and his Aunt May were closing ranks. That Ms. Potts and Happy were getting in on his life and nonexistent issues.

They shouldn’t waste anymore time on it.

Not on him.

Who, by the way, did not have a problem he couldn’t manage. It was just a small insignificant little detail about him. He would get over it.

Right?

#febuwhump #febuwhump 2019 #marvel cinematic universe #Spider-Man: Homecoming #post infinity war #post snap #angst #phobia #excessive cleaning #Peter Parker #Tony Stark #May Parker #gen #fic: 1-5k #Wwdsolf: What we don't say out loud first #Tony & Peter #Peter & May

[teamhook]

Captain Swan Supernatural Summer Second Contribution

Thanks again to @kmomof4 for organizing the thing…

Thanks to @hookedonapirate for her Beta services.

Thanks to @kymbersmith-90 @revanmeetra87 @searchingwardrobes for their support and help cause I tend to freak out. :p

                                             |AO3|  |FFN|

Chapter 3:

The road so far…

Liam grows up fast to take care of his little brother. Years pass in servitude of a cruel captain. Killian gives in to his first vice. Liam makes an unsavory deal to save his brother. The brothers join the Royal Navy and the elder Jones embarks on a fool’s quest.

…

Liam Jones was at the helm of the Titan feeling the spray of the sea water as the ship sailed through the bluest waters he’d ever seen. The only way the experience would’ve been better would be if Killian, his little brother, were at his side as his lieutenant.

His dream had become a reality; he was finally captaining a royal ship on a quest for the King. His hope now was to soon be reunited with his brother.

Liam looked at the clear skies ahead; they should be approaching the White Waters Triangle. According to the records, all the known shipwrecks had happened close to their current location.

Liam was brought out of his thoughts as a sudden pulse of energy hit the ship.

He hears a panicked voice coming from the crow’s nest, “Captain, captain!” A tidal wave was coming and it was big, almost reaching the sky. “Sir, it came out of nowhere,” the young sailor exclaimed as he hurried down into his position. Even an experienced crew stood no chance of survival, but they had to try.

Should they attempt to ride it out or turn around and outrun it? Liam didn’t have time to ponder the question and tried to turn the ship, but it was too late. The wave was already upon them. The ship started to croak and the wooden hull splintered, unable to resist the pressure of the blue water. It happened so fast, the water rushed in and the depth of sea was engulfing the ship along with its occupants.

The only indications of the existence of the majestic ship that once stood there were the wooden beams that were once bonded into the craft and now floated, torn apart on the clear water. Other than that, there was no proof of a destructive tidal wave taking another ship to Davy Jones’ locker. The waters were calm once more.

…

Days turned into a week and weeks turned into months, but there was still no word from Liam. The feeling of abandonment resurfaced. He hated that feeling; it was the same exact way he felt upon his father’s desertion.

The ship that carried the younger Jones had made port in a small town close to the Enchanted Forest just outside the Maritime Kingdom.

Killian Jones had opted to distract himself from that old feeling. He had been reading over some Greek books on the mythology of the elusive island the King was eager to reach. The bunk was filled with all the books on navigation he could get. He needed to keep his mind occupied while they waited for news from Liam.

There was a small knock on the door of his quarters, and hee eagerly rushed over to it.

“Captain wants to see you in his quarters.”

“Thank you, Johnson.” Killian followed the deckhand to the Captain’s quarters. He didn’t believe he would be hearing good news. He was quite perceptive after all.

Yet, he still hoped he was wrong.

They arrived and promptly found out. They were met with a gruff voice that told them to enter.

“Captain Peterson, you called for me?” Killian shifted as he reached to scratch behind his ear.

“Jones I’m afraid I have a bit of bad news.” There was not one ounce of sincerity.

Killian had once overheard the man say it was not fair that two measly orphans got such quick promotions, and on top of that a ship every sailor in the Royal Navy longed for.

“Sir, was there word from my brother?”

“I’m afraid the lack of it is enough to consider the mission as unsuccessful.”

“Sir, I would like to be part of the search party.”

“Jones, there is never anything to retrieve aside from some pieces of wood.”

“My brother is out there! We cannot just let him perish!”

“Your brother is most likely in Davy’s Locker.” He shrugged. “You are dismissed.”

Killian stormed out and went to his bunk, pacing back and forth. He was alone and tired of losing people he loved. His mum died, his father didn’t love him enough to stay and now his only family was left for dead because of some Royal’s quest.

He was livid. They weren’t even going to search for the crew. They were expendable. He knew they were inexperienced sailors; Liam was the one with the most experience on the ship.

Killian walked aimlessly without direction and ended up in the ship’s galley with one of the few crew members he was friendly with. Out of frustration, he slammed his closed fist onto the table.

“Mr. Lewis.” Killian sniffled and tried to walk past the man.

“Killian, I heard about your brother. I’m sorry.”

“Are you, Mr. Lewis, because no one on this ship seems to care?”

“The crew cares. Weren’t they in the Academy with you and your brother?”

“Aye, and my brother’s crew too.” All gone too soon, thanks to an impossible journey.

A few days had passed when they received notice from the King to return. There was an announcement to be made.

Killian and the crew set sail back to King Fergus’ kingdom for the big proclamation.

Seven days later, they arrived. Killian fulfilled his duty, but he couldn’t get over the anger that still brewed within him.

He had kept mostly to himself.

The moment they docked, they noticed the commotion. The docks were at capacity with people. All came from the surrounding towns within the kingdom. The local Inns were full, therefore forcing most of the crews to sleep on their respective ships.

One ship stood out above all the fine ships at the port; it had no crew but was highly guarded.

Early the next day, the whole town gathered at the docks. King Fergus stood at the gangplank of the beautiful ship. Next, to him, a younger man stood with an obvious resemblance to the King.

He soon announced to the whole town that his nephew Roderick, son of his beloved sister Rowena, would be the Captain of The Jewel of the Realm.

Some of the people in the crowd quickly made comments about the fact that the nephew had no experience. He didn’t even serve in the royal navy, but somehow found himself the captain of the prized ship of the kingdom.

Killian overheard the comments, and with the loss of his brother so recent, his anger rose.

Looking on from afar, a cloaked figure stood and watched with excitement as his plans unfolded.  

The town soon returned to their daily and Killian promptly made his way to his bunk.

There was an urgent knocking at his door, followed by his name. “Killian Jones, are you in there?” It was the deckhand. “Captain is requesting your presence at his quarters.”

Killian opened the door, annoyed that he couldn’t even take a moment to try to mourn his brother’s death. “Lead the way, mate.”

In the captain’s quarters, he was met with the king and his captain.

“Killian Jones, your captain has boasted of your great performance on this ship, leading me to decide to honor the deal I had made with your brother. You will be lieutenant aboard the Jewel of the Realm.”

Killian looked at the two men. He knew this was what Liam wanted for him but he couldn’t help but feel bitter. Kilian had some thoughts to ponder over. Why must they pledge their lives to a King who sees them as worthless? They carry out their duty, only to die while the Royals get wealthier and stay safe in their castles. “It would be an honor, your highness,” he vowed to the king.

“Grab your belongings and you can board the Jewel. My nephew is aware you will be joining the crew. You will be sailing to fulfill some diplomatic duties.” The king nodded and left the room without offering his condolences.  

Killian did as he was told and went to grab his things to go board the new ship and report to his new captain.

The next day the Jewel of the Realm set sail.

After a couple of weeks at sea, Killian had developed camaraderie with the crew. They were all simple men who wanted a better chance than their former life had dealt them. It didn’t take long to convince them to take the ship.  

On a calm day, as the ship sailed the beautiful clear waters, the Captain was giving orders without knowledge of what was to come. The scuffle was fast and before he could react, Captain Roderick found himself at the end of his lieutenant’s cutlass.

Killian wasn’t a cold-blooded killer, but soon they were dueling for the ship. Sadly, Killian was faster and somehow more experienced. Within seconds the other man was disarmed.

Killian stood tall in front of the crew as he spoke to them. “We have sworn an oath to serve the King and the realm. Never again shall we take orders from a corrupt immoral monarchy…”

The crew answered enthusiastically, “Yes! Here, here!”

Throughout his speech, Killian shouted, “Serving this King, fighting his wars? No more! That is the way of dishonor! And anyone who disagrees can flee now or walk the bloody plank! Those who stay will be free men, and I will your Captain.”

They answered unanimously with “Aye!”

Captain Killian Jones continued, “We’ll sail under the crimson flag and we’ll give our enemies no quarter. We’ll take what we please!”

“Yes!”

“And we’ll live by our own rules, for that is the best form of all!”

“Yeah!”

“They’ve taken so much from us - my brother - and now I’m going to take everything they’ve got!”

“Yes!”

“Starting with this ship! Bring the paint from below! It’s time we rename this vessel. We no longer sail as the Jewel of the Realm. We now sail as the Jolly Roger.”

“Yes! - Yeah!”

“So when they come for us, I want them to know exactly what we are - pirates! For at least among thieves, there is honor!”

“Long live Captain Jones! Captain Jones! Captain Jones! Captain Jones!”

#Captain Swan #cssns #cssns 18 #CS Crew #CS Mafia #cs ff

[welcometoels]

Session Eighteen - For A Few Otters More

After the revelations last session, the group settles in at The Burning Man to compare notes.  They confirm that each of the original four started their unexpected journey here.  A stirring discovery indeed.

The discovery seems to have hit Julius especially hard.  Knowing he is now so close to his home, he tells the group that he wishes to go there - perhaps to stay.  The team is surprised, and a little alarmed, but they offer to join him on his return journey.

The party decides to bed down for the night to absorb this information, and Talion strikes a deal with the staff: A quick performance on the stage in exchange for discounted rates on the remaining two unoccupied rooms.

He absolutely crushes the performance of “The Worst Whore In Els” - despite some very squonky harmonica backup from Oddsock - and even gets a bit of a singalong going during the chorus.  The barman is delighted and slashes the room price as agreed.

After a night of heavy dreaming and a morning of inevitably bacon-flavoured items - the orange juice being especially weird - the team inspects a local newspaper.  There is mention of an undead creature who is currently being held in Monthend prison, screaming about a monk who stole his lantern, but other than that the only thing of note is in the personals:

Z -

The place just isn’t the same without you.  Please come back.

T

After dwelling on it a moment, Talion recalls that the bar manager at The Wayward Alchemist was named Tabatha.  Is this her, reaching out to Zanthia?  If she didn’t return to the Alchemist, where did she go?

There being only so much they can do from Greysnipe, the adventurers decide to head out and accompany Julius back to his old cottage.

Progress is slow, thanks to thick foliage and a lack of path, but they eventually find themselves at a quaint little log cabin next to a river.  The building is small - just enough for two short people - but it is pretty, despite the vegetable patch and herb garden being in sore need of tidying.

Julius, overflowing with excitement, leaps straight into the river for a swim, followed by a boisterous Oddsock.  Julius shows off his strong swimming skills with a few figure-eights, while Oddsock flounders in the shallows a little, before returning to the bank and shaking himself down right in front of Kadis.

A squelchy squeak emerges from Oddsock’s possessions, and the dog retrieves his dragon chew toy Tim.  From within, a muffled voice complains about leaks inside his pocket dimension, so Oddsock deploys his Mage Hand to hang Tim out to dry.

Eventually tiring of his swim, Julius re-emerges, whereupon he notices that the door is slightly ajar.  Cautiously, with staff in hand, he approaches and pushes it a little wider.

From within the cabin, two shadowy figures with two pairs of beady eyes appear.  As the light reaches them, they are revealed to be two small Otter people - no more than two feet tall - staring agog at Julius.  “The giant!” they squeak in unison, before fleeing into the forest.

Julius is bamboozled: He has never seen other Otters before, and is quite upset that they are so frightened by his presence.  Searching through the cabin, he can’t find anything missing or seriously out of place, leaving him even more baffled.

Oddsock, ever helpful, uses his cunning dog nose to try and pick up their scent.  He catches the musky aroma of wild animals and fish, and confirms that they went into the forest.  The fact that everyone saw them go that way does not dampen his enthusiasm or pride.

The group splits, with Cailynn joining Oddsock on the quest to follow the Otters, and Kadis and Talion staying to keep Julius company.

As the search party treks into the trees, Oddsock picks up a stronger scent.  Pressing onward with increased speed, they find their path blocked by a thorny thicket.  Deploying his sharp canine ears, Oddsock detects a telltale squeaking from beyond.

Friendly as ever, Oddsock calls out a greeting, and the squeaking stops.  Concerned, he pulls out his Ball of Compulsive Throwing, gives it a little squeak, then nudges it into the briar.  After a moment, a tiny Otter paw emerges and takes the ball.  Lots of squeaks follow, and the ball is thrown back out, followed by the same two Otter faces as before.

These two little fellows are nervous, but also curious, so Oddsock lays on the charm and assures them that he and Cailynn are both friendly.  The Otters confer for a moment, then invite the pair through.

The thicket is tough going, and very spiky, but Oddsock and Cailynn manage to wriggle through with only a few light scratches.  Once beyond the border, they are surprised to find a miniscule village of huts built from mud and pebbles, each one host to more little Otter people, all no more that three feet tall.

A small commotion ensues, and one of the taller Otters steps forth to chastise the two youngsters - Snapper and Perch - sending them back to their home with the threat of no supper hanging over them.  He then turns to the two adventurers and demands an explanation.

Oddsock and Cailynn fill the Otter in on who they are and why they are there, but at the mention of Julius, he goes a little quiet.  He confirms that they both know “the giant”, then disappears to the far end of the village to fetch the Elder.

This Elder is every bit the distinguished Otter patriarch: though stooped, and needing a cane for support, he carries himself with dignity, and wears a headdress of twigs, leaves and berries to show his station.  Upon meeting the Dog and Drow, he asks them to bring Julius to him.

Oddsock tries Message, but he is too far away, so Cailynn uses the pendant.  Back at Julius’ cottage, the message comes through, but faintly.  The connection is clear enough for Cailynn to advise where they are, and to tell them to look out for the Dancing Lights she will place at the entrance to the thicket.

A few minutes and a few more scratches later, the team is reunited.  All are agog at what they have found, but none more so than Julius.  The Elder greets him warmly, and presents a letter, which is accompanied by a story.

Many years ago, when the Elder was a young Otter, a basket containing a strange creature washed up on the banks of the river.  The creature was clearly very young, and appeared to be made entirely of water.  The Otters took it in, and tended to it as best they could.

Over time, the creature grew, and started to resemble an Otter - albeit a larger one than any of the others, even at a young age.  So, the Otter clan called upon the assistance of the local druid Pa McGinley.  After some cajoling, he agreed to take in the young creature, and named him Julius.  He just liked the sound of it.

The other thing Pa helped with was the translation of the letter, which was written in some dialect of Primordial.  This is the letter Julius now holds in his paws - it states that he was to be kept safe, and protected, for he was important, and in danger.

Julius reads through the note a few more times, and puts it away.  The Elder nods, and advises Julius to seek out more information, should he need it, from the only person who might know more - Pa McGinley.

Julius is confused.  He was certain that Pa had died years ago, after abandoning his cottage, but the Elder wears a mysterious expression, and advises that this is not the entire truth.  If Julius wants to know more, he can travel to the sacred Druidic Forest, which is a short but difficult trek through the woods.

Julius absorbs this information solemnly, then asks his travelling companions if they will assist in this journey, and they agree immediately.  The Elder nods, and presents Julius with a nice pebble.  Julius gives one of his in return, unknowingly completing a traditional Otter transaction that is a cornerstone of their society.  Perhaps he absorbed more Otterness during those early years than anyone thought.

After pressing through the spiky brush again, the team follows the Elder’s directions to the Druidic Forest.  Progress is slow, as there is no path - just thick foliage and sturdy trees.  If anything, the forest gets thicker as they progress, the upper branches knitting together and blocking all but the most stubborn rays of sunlight.

For the sake of those without Darkvision, Talion casts Light on his lightning pendant.  In the dim glow, it becomes clear that, not only is the forest ahead of them thicker, but the forest behind them is too.  Suspecting imminent danger, Julius casts Pass Without Trace on the team, so they can sneak through more easily.

This works for most, but Oddsock finds sneaking on four paws somewhat more difficult.  He tries his best, but is very nearly struck by a swinging branch.  The team rallies just in time to witness Oddsock being attacked once again, but this time more successfully, a hefty blow striking his golden flank.

Kadis returns with a flurry of blow, sending chunks of bark flying.  The trees try to retaliate, but he is altogether too swift for them.  Oddsock, having had quite enough, readies his fiery magic and threatens to set the whole forest ablaze.

It is unclear whether or not his words are understood, but the motes of flame that leap from his fur communicate his intent clearly.  The trees raise their branches, indicating surrender.

As this happens, a miasma engulfs the party, and suddenly they find themselves able to understand the trees on a psychic level.  The trees see them as trespassers in sacred ground, and want them to leave immediately.

The situation looks bleak, as more and more trees close in.  Julius tries his best to explain, but then a familiar voice breaks through.  Stern, but warm, this is a voice that Julius has known for all of his life.

When Pa appears, though, he is not at all as Julius remembers.  Though still Gnome height, more or less, he is distinctly more mushroomoid.  Julius is taken aback, but the figure in front of him is definitely his old Pa.

Pa McGinley confirms everything that the Otter Elder told him: he adopted Julius as a child and promised to keep him safe, which is why he encouraged his young charge to not leave the cottage.

Now, though, he sees the power and potential in Julius, and encourages him to go out on an adventure.  Pa himself saw a lot of the world before settling down at the riverside cabin, and wants the same for Julius.

As far as the note goes, he advises Julius to start with a trip to Tý-En.  The Elves pride themselves on their magical history and wisdom, so there would be worse places to try and find out more about water creatures and from where they might hail.

As a parting gesture, Pa takes Julius’ staff - really just a branch that he used to use to chase rabbits away from the carrot patch - and imbues it with more Druidic power.  It now acts as if Shillelagh is cast upon it at all times, and also carries a little extra sting of poison.

Pa waves off Julius and his team, as a few more mushroom people emerge from the gloom.  He also encourages Julius to visit again, once he has mastered the druidic arts, and to join with the master druids of millennia past.

The trees part, leaving a clear path for the party to return.  They make their way back to Greysnipe to enjoy some drinks at the Hanging Lock, and to absorb everything that took place.

Tý-En is calling, but will they heed?  Find out next session!

#dnd #5e #homebrew