#green swamp lighting is really his colour

[chipchopclipclop]

swagdor is so cute i like his moustache and his odd eyes and his hat. i dont even play this game

thank you i love his moustache and hat as well (his odd eyes are the result of a tragic ice pick incident but he can see invisibility now so its fine) i would recommend you play the game but he wouldn't even be there so just look at him here and pretend these are promo pics for like dragon age four or something

#chitter chatter #anonymous #had a friend play after watching me play for hours and was like hes not here it almost feels wrong and i spat laughing #swagdor new bg3 dlc npc party member #green swamp lighting is really his colour #i am always too lazy to draw his nose rings so pretend hes too lazy to put them in half the time

[scribble-dribble-writes]

Ambition

<<<Prev (Burning nights) (The snake) Next>>>

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Pairing: Buggy x female mermaid reader

Word count: 2300

Warnings: none

Note: Got four or five chapter left for the Sea Circus captain to come to an end!

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You felt the soft texture of his hair as he rested his head on your chest, daybreak causing for faint light to seep into the room. You petted the top of his head as you played with his shimmering blue strands before you finally let your fingers rest by his ear to fiddle with his earring. While you brought your other hand out to see the ring. It sparkled with a greenish blue hue just like his eyes and you thought of all the days he had been carrying it, almost the entire duration of your relationship. His love for you was certain, even when you spent your time worrying if you would belong anywhere.

Now you did, as his fingers twitched against your skin with his arm draped across you, finally asleep after having never resting well. His hot breath running down to your abdomen, your thumb now slipping down to his jaw as you rubbed his stubble. How lucky, you thought, that what was once grueling yearning had now become secure company.

But peace never stayed with the restless, it was gone with the breeze as a soft knock resounded on your door. Your fingers froze above his cheek. Here in the confines of this wall, he was yours but if that door opened like Pandora’s box, it would cause an uproar. A scandal. The queen to be in the arms of a lover the people were not quite ready to accept. You laid still, Buggy nuzzling closer to you while you hoped whoever it was that was at the door had left, but a second knock resounded more impatiently than the first and the assasin from last night rushed into your mind.

Panic began to make you feel stuck where you were as you looked at the open doors, this now new uncontrollable burn that took over hands anytime you felt protective.

Assassin’s don’t use doors, you repeated to yourself as you shook Buggy for him to wake up. But instead he murmured incoherently asking for a few more minutes and that Kings don’t need to be up so early.

It made you smile but the knocks now grew more quicker as you heard shouts from the balcony below, the guards had found the body.

“Buggy, you need to get up and hide.”, you whispered urgently.

“No.”, he contested as he pulled you closer, his sturdy arms weighing you down as his lazy kisses under your jaw made it harded not to laugh and fight his clinginess. You held onto his forearms trying to create an opening for you to escape but it was pointless.

As you struggled, the doors burst open and in entered Helge, closely followed by a woman dressed in armour. Buggy didn’t care to wake up, he contined to rest as though he ran the place.

“How many times do I need to knock?”, Helge sounded annoyed.

“Till the doors open, you don’t just barge in.”, the woman yanked him back by his elbow till their noses were almost touching, both starring daggers at each other.

Helge inhaled sharply, before he moved away like a child who had been told off. He walked towards the bed when he froze in his tracks. His eyes taking in the scene of you caught in Buggy’s arms, the only saving grace being the blanket that wrapped you and the pirate captain together.

You placed your hand on Buggy’s exposed back, there was no point rewriting this story now.

“Oh umm.”, Helge swallowed as he turned away.

“This is why. This is why we give people their privacy in their own bedrooms.”, the lady spread out her arms as a means to convey her point to Helge.

“Gosh I really can’t stand your nagging presence today, Elenor.”, he mumbled.

“I’m nagging? You had to change your shirt thrice before you stepped out of your asylum and it's all still green by the way.”, she put forth her point.

“Green is the prestigious colour of my house.”, he argued.

“No it makes you look like you’re from the swamp, algae.”, she smirked and he gasped.

“Algae? How dare –

You fell back into your pillows, all this noise had woken up Buggy as he squinted his eyes against the light. Nothing unnerved Helge, not like this woman was able to. She rested her hands on her hips as she threw her head back in fits of laughter at Helge’s bickering, her reaction only making his reaction worser as his pale cheeks flushed red with embarrassment.

“Children, children, please stop arguing.”, Buggy intervened.

“I brought this on myself.”, Helge turned to you as he pointed at Buggy and the woman next to him.

“Your Highness, Captain, forgive me for the disturbance.”, Elenor bowed to you to which you set her at ease as your gaze travelled to the man who looked like he was taking comfort in everything green.

You pulled the edge of the blanket to cover your mouth in the hope that it would hide your smile and when you saw Eleanor, her eyes glimmered with laughter too.

“Nope. You can’t join them and laugh at me.”, he waved his hand but it only made it worse.

As Buggy giggled, Eleanor joined in and you couldn’t help yourself.

“The green tie with a green shirt and a green pant, does actually make you look funny.”, you stated.

“Alright, I admit. I’ve been stressed and when I’m stressed I don’t think straight and it results in bad fashion choices.”, he paced on the side of your bed before he threw himself to his knees to meet you eye to eye.

“You’ve got to help me, Céane. My life’s in danger.”, his gray eyes caught yours and you settled. You had not once witnessed him in such distress.

“What is it?”, you asked and Buggy propped his chin on the edge of your shoulder listening in.

“The Barracudons are after me.”, Helge said and you pursed your lips.

“I received a note this morning.”, he reached out to his coat pocket to retrieve a small white card and held it out to you.

You took it, the ivory card with the Barracudon crest embossed in the top. But when you saw the single sentence scribbled onto the paper. You inhaled deeply.

“Your life will be the only accepted payment for the lose of one of our sons.”, you read and it unsettled you. All the more because Helge looked excruciatingly helpless and innocent in all this.

“It’s written in blood.”, Buggy added as he took the card from you to inspect it.

“Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”, Eleanor asked but her gaze was only set on Helge.

“You were quite busy teasing and chiding me.”, he shrugged his shoulders.

“Besides would you have cared?”, he turned towards her, his voice sounding broken.

That was why he was distressed, the fear that no one would notice his absence if something were to go wrong.

But before you could reassure him, his guard stepped in. Her eyes losing the mischief and in it’s place was an anxious hidden desperation.

“I do care about you, Helge. I’m sworn to – she reached her hand to catch his but he folded his arms as he pinned her down with the anger that flashed across his face.

“protect me, you are sworn in by my mother to keep me in check.”, he gritted his teeth but it only broke her further before she resumed her composure.

“You’re right.”, she clasped her hands together and turned away towards the open window. The laughter and fun no longer present, now the silence was piercing. Helge looked at her as though he had made a mistake but instead he moved away to take a seat in the armchair to the corner.

“They remind me of us.”, Buggy whispered in your ear before he kissed your cheek.

“That's because you’re a hopeless romantic.”, you sighed as he tilted your chin to face him.

“Only for you.”, he said next, his lips inching towards yours.

When another knock was placed on the door, everyone in the room stilled.

"With every passing second this place frustrates me further.", Buggy sighed as he let you go.

“An urgent invitation, ma’am.”, one of your staff exclaimed from behind the door.

You began to move when Helge stood up, gesturing you to rest as he headed towards the door.

“Aww isn’t he sweet, making sure you don’t move away from me.”, Buggy spoke sweetly in a teasing manner as you shushed him.

It was difficult as is getting him to behave before, now it was impossible.

But Helge seemed to be arguing by the door instead of receiving the letter.

“She’s asleep. I will take it on her behalf.”, Helge stood his ground by the door blocking the view as your handmaid tried to look past him.

But she pushed past him and before she could get any closer, you shoved Buggy under the blanket as he exclaimed. You pulled the sheet up to your neck as you rested a cautionary hand over Buggy making sure he stayed still for a few seconds. You felt the curve of his nose bump into your waist, and the edge of his smile against your skin.

This was not going to be good.

Your handmaid rushed to you, a silver plate in her hand as it held a single invitation with a wax seal.

“I was instructed to give this to you as soon as possible. We weren’t sure if you knew about it, your Highness but it has already been circulated to the townsfolk and other houses.”, she said frantically.

You reached up to take the envelope as Buggy began to squirm next to you. His hands slipped down your thigh in an attempt to cause you to stumble. You instead caught his wandering hand as you kept up the pretense.

“Thank you.”, you told her before she could catch sight of the movement beneath the blanket but she bowed instead and turned to leave.

The doors were about to close and you were about to let Buggy out from beneath the covers when,

“Oh I had a hunch you might be here.”, Theodora’s voice boomed as your gaze drifted to Helge. He sat still like he had seen a ghost, as he visibly shut down the moment she entered.

“Where else would the young lovers be if not bask in the early hours of the last few days of being separated.”, she beamed and Helge sat up straight.

“Last few days?”, he questioned cautiously.

“Yes, haven’t you seen the invite yet? I was beyond thrilled, just when I began to worry if you had the courage to ask her.”, she moved towards her son while he held her in a scrutinizing gaze. She was up to something.

“The only sadness is I wished you would have told me first. No matter, the queen to be was kind enough to send me a letter to inform me.”, Theodora continued on while Helge looked at her in confusion, so did you. You had never written to her.

Taking in her son’s expression, she sighed.

“The engagement.”, she cocked her eyebrow.

The guard tensed, her eyes focused on Helge while you broke the seal to the envelope in your hand in an urgency. Pulling out the card that held the Nerroceane crest embossed in it was an exquisite invitation for your coronation and the celebration of your engagement to Helge.

Nothing made sense. Theodora gasped when she caught sight of the ring on your finger.

“How exquisite. I had offered Helge my engagement ring but the one he has chosen is, quite adequate.”, she sniffed as she patted her son’s cheek as though she was so proud of his work. Eleanor fell silent as she resumed her position next to Helge, while he looked awful. His eyes finding yours as the gears in both your heads churned. The Barracudon assassins were after you and him for this reason. You were soon to be the ruling couple from what the invitation said.

Theodora inhaled when she caught your eyes.

“I thought it would be best if the travelling circus found another island to inhabit after your coronation. Once you are queen, you will not have much need for entertainment.”, she held your gaze.

You felt Buggy shift next to you.

“And who are you to make such decisions on my behalf?”, you questioned.

Theodora flashed a calculated smile as she rested her hand on Helge’s shoulder.

“Well in a few days we’ll be family.”, she commented, it made you feel nauseous and trapped.

You grew silent and felt Buggy’s slow breathing as you wrapped your fingers around his.

“The clown is a distraction, the kingdom would need your undivided attention. And since I am the mother of the king, I will try my best to lessen your load by being on the council.”, she laughed and it all sounded fake.

There was only one ambitious person in the room and it was clear who it was.

“Well, thank you for your lovely intrusion. Now if you will give me the privacy to get ready for the day, I shall meet you all to discuss the arrangements.”, you spoke and felt Helge’s cold stare on you. He wanted to know what you were planning but you couldn’t risk anything now.

Theodora tipped her head in acknowledgement as she waited for her son. Helge got up and straightened his sleeve, his eyes catching yours before he relaxed once Eleanor stood by his side. With that, they left the room and once secure. Buggy pushed away the blankets as he inhaled a deep breathe.

“That bloody witch.”, he exclaimed as he pushed back his hair, his sea glass eyes now shattered in panic, she had managed to get under his skin.

You pulled away the sheets as you picked up his coat that was pushed under the side of your bed.

Theodora had never played with pirates before and now as you slung his coat over yourself and secured the belt around your waist, you wanted to make a lasting impression on her mind.

“What do you say to one final performance? You raid the kingdom, I secure the throne and then we settle with the loot?”, you asked as you turned to him.

He looked dazed, the rage simmering down as he took in the sight of you in his coat.

He stretched as he got out of the bed, pulling on his pants as he made his way to you, gathering his hair up in a low bun.

“You know I’m always at your disposal, your majesty.”, he smirked reaching for your hand that sported his ring to kiss your fingers.

Ambition always had one enemy, it could never prevail against a noble cause. Even though you and him were partners in crime, the story you were fighting for was noble enough.

---

Tags:

@lotr-got @juhdoche @wooyoungsrightsock @mysingularitybts

#one piece buggy #buggy the pirate #buggy #op buggy #captain buggy #buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy one piece #buggy x y/n #buggy x oc #buggy x you #buggy fluff #buggy for pirate king #buggy fanfiction #opla buggy #buggy live action #one piece fan fiction #one piece fluff #op fluff

[the-fiction-witch]

7th House Reed

Media Game Of Thrones

Character Jojen Reed

Couple Jojen X reader

Rating Sweet + spooky

Halloween day 7

I ventured through the thin corridors of grey green and black, The dark wood festering this damp smell, colours bringing thoughts of moss and mud. But that was to be expected here. I held the skirt of the dress in my hands so the hem avoided the wooden floor. As I walked I found myself straying from a straight line but this place always made me feel that way almost convinced the corridors and halls rocked but I was the only one to ever really notice. Soon enough I arrived at the sweet west chamber seeing the wooden door already open enough for me to enter without a sound. The room is sizeable with black wooden floors, half wood walls with noticeable repairs and fractures given the age of the house, the walls a painted grey-green, the ceiling wooden formed in arches to create the roof that was at its tallest in the centre, the only thing of silver stone the fireplace in the corner with its chimney of a similar mismatched stone, the fire roaring sending gold and red cascading across the room leaving shadows to dance in the dark, the large hand carved wooden bed across the side various green drapery hung from its wooden posts, the bed within made with light cream, green and black fabrics with a few dark green lizard lion skins draped across, a small silver fur at the foot as it hadn't been used much in this warmer weather.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the looking glass as I stood in my black boots with fur toes, my long green dress with slightly lighter green reeds and grass pattern barely visible in the fabric except in slight light changes, waistline at my underbust as this was my maternity dress with higher hems and fluffer fabrics to hide my ever-growing size, a square neckline which honestly didn't hide my still plump breasts with a rim of black fabric, long Juliet sleeves to my wrists in black fabric, My long y/c/h hair braided into so many strand braids I'd frankly lost count with a matching black ribbon braided in and used as a headband across the top of my head. But I caught a better sight as close to the small arched window were two figures. Jojen stood barefoot, dark green pants laced up tightly, his lighter green shirt loose even if it was tucked into his pants but still very loose around him, and in his arms on his hip sat little Olivander dressed only in a long green shirt his blonde hair fluffy fresh from his bath, giggling away as he rubbed noses with his father. The two didn't see me so I smiled happily watching them.

"Alright, time for bed little man" Jojen smiled giving Olivander's head a little kiss as he adjusted the blankets and furs inside the wooden crib and of course, Olivander began to wiggle "I know, I know, but it's bedtime." He said putting him into the crib and immediately he began to cry "Alright, alright, How's about a story then little man? yeah, would that make you happy?" He cooed "Alright then, A lovely little story for a lovely little man." He smiled "Once upon a time…" he began leaning on the crib to better see Olivander and to gently play with his fingers "In the land of Westeros sat a lovely place, beside the bite and southernmost of the north, The neck, Dividing the north from the rest of the seven kingdoms. And sat on the very edge of the trident is a swampy mashy black bog." He explained

"With lizard lions, snakes and poison kisses, dense thickets of trees that sit half-drowned and covered head to toe in pale fungus, the marshy water is thick and dark with quicksand below to quickly drown any who dare walk its waters," he explained "And here in this unforgiving place are the crannogmen, some call them bog devils, frog eaters and mud men. These crannogmen are reclusive souls who dwell in the deep deadly swamps, living in villages formed from reeds and thatch, like floating islands in the crannog mud, they seldom leave their lands choosing instead to fish and forage, for they are talented hunters and warriors. They wield nets, bronze knives, three-pronged frog spears and round leather shields all with a mastery of their monstrous terrain. They are known far and wide as being impossible to conquer due to their skills and poisoned weapons" he explained

"Crannogmen breathe water, have green moss-covered teeth and webbed hands and feet to resemble frogs say the river folk. Ironborn call them bog devils, more swamp than human, some in the north even say that the Crannogmen grew close and even wed children of the forest forever binding them with the earth and its magic." he explained "But those are merely stories, little boy, The truth is not so simple." he said "In this marshy muddy place rose a great house, lords of crannogmen this was Greywater said to be impossible to find as it floats on marshy waters protected by old green magic, Not even ravens can find greywater watch. I was supposedly built by the first marsh king. One of the first of men to Westeros, and first among equals. they say he was touched by the old gods, they say in songs that the old marsh kings would ride lizard lions and wield frog spears to hold moat cailin against those from the south who dreamed to take it. But the marsh kings are no more, the last slain by Rickard Stark the king in the north thousands of years ago, he took the marsh king's daughter for a bride. It is said in some circles that because of the marsh king's daughter, there is old green magic in the blood of all great houses now. Some much more than others."

He explained as Olivander was starting to drift to sleep holding his little lizard lion toy in hand as Jojen tucked the covers around him. "House Reed, has always sat as lords of Crannogmen, a noble house and principal of old northern families and the first men, We have held greywater watch and its lands since the defeat of the last marsh king, we are a small house but ill-forgotten." he said stroking little Olivander's face as he drifted away "You, my angel of a little boy, Are a Reed. Inside you is the blood of the first men, of marsh kings, of the old gods and greensight, of the children of the forest and the black lizard lions, of magic old and new, we swear by ice and fire. You're my son. Everything that I am and everything I have come from is in you, and everything of everyone who has come before you" He explained, "You're going to do great things, little man, you are destined for it." He said giving Olivander's head a small kiss "Sleep well the world shall wait for you" "You shouldn't tell him stories like that" I spoke up making Jojen jump a little "Ohh, there you are y/n. I was wondering where you were" He smiled hushed of course as to not wake Olivander as he came over and wrapped his arms around my waist "You shouldn't tell him stories like that, you'll scare him" "The world is scary little lady, he needs to know that." "Jojen. He's two" "My parents told me when I was his age" "Yes, I've been briefed on their parenting" I glared "I like telling him, it's our history, our family, not my fault all my history is kinda like a scary story" "I know, it's sweet, just… maybe not so spooky Jojen while he's little anyway" "I'll tone it down" he sighed "I suppose I have to it'll be a little too scary for little girl when she comes along" he cooed stroking my bump "Come on let's get you off you're feet" He said picking me up and carrying me to our bed where he tucked me in and sat on the edge stroking and kissing my bump "How is she today?" "She's fine, missed her daddy" "I've missed you both too" He smiled "You had any more ideas for a name for her?" "I have had a few ideas" I smiled stroking my bump too "Ohh enlighten me then?" "Jyana, Like your mother." I smiled moving my hand to sit on his "That's very sweet little lady, but you don't have to do that" "well we'll see, come on let's get some sleep"

#thomas sangster #thomas brodie sangster #tbs #tbs smut #thomasbrodiesangster #tbs imagines #tbs imagine #thomas sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster smut #game of thrones jojen #game of thrones jojen reed #jojen reed #jojen #jojen reed imagines #jojen reed imagine #got jojen reed #jojen reed smut #jojenreed #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones

[alabama-metal-man]

here’s a prompt to hopefully help get your creative juices flowing! “i hope that’s not what you’re planning on wearing” with obidala or oad?

thank you for the prompt, jeka!! here's something from a "never master and padawan/left the order/royal naboo/everyone lives and is happy" type au. it's a little more obidala than intended but oad is definitely there!

I wrote the boys' outfits with this in mind. Padme's didn't have a direct inspiration but something like this with colouring like this works as a general visual.

“I hope that’s not what you’re planning on wearing.” “What, you don’t like it?” She is royal resplendence in pale gold makeup and gossamer sleeves. Radiant, warm, like summer incarnate. His appreciative eyes take a quick journey along the soft drape of the dress, the delicate cling of fine Naboolian silk to her body. Dormé’s work is, as always, breathtaking. “You’re lovely, my dear. But if this is your outfit, I dread seeing my own.” “Obi-Wan, it’s been—” she mutters a quiet curse as she fumbles with the final clasp at her back, always left undone by the Handmaidens until Padmé decided she was finished, “—five years, and you’re still not used to this?” “Oh no, I’m quite accustomed to your elaborate ideas of what constitutes fashion for you.” His fingers take the place of hers and he deftly fastens the clasp. “Which means I know the ideas you come up with for me.” “This is hardly elaborate.” “Perhaps not, but it isn’t your typical choice.” She raises a challenging brow at him, and points him to his own clothes that hang just inside her wardrobe. “Anakin liked his.” “Anakin also likes podracing and that disgusting stew Master Yoda used to make.” At the wardrobe, he groans. “Are you equating my fashion sense with swamp slop?” “Of course not. But Padmé, really—” he lifts the sleeve of his shirt. “It’s entirely transparent.” “Not entirely. The pants are solid.” “Padmé.” “It’s on trend.” “It’s absurd.” “It’s summer.” “I’d rather sweat.” Her smile is a fond, secret thing; the kind she reserves only for himself and Anakin. “You’re impossible.” “As are you.” He allows a smile of his own, fingering the appliqué along the collar. “You already gave Anakin his?” “Yes.” “And you’ve been keeping mine from me because—?” “Because I knew you’d be stubborn about it.” He sighs, reluctantly slipping out of his robe.  “I am not a prideful man.” “I know.” “But if Mace or Qui-Gon or, Force help me, Quinlan say one word—” Her laugh is sudden and bright, like the chime of crystal bells in Theed’s cathedrals. “Then I suppose you’ll just have to wear the overcoat.” He pauses, shirt half on, and turns to her. “The what?” She grins, slips behind her dressing screen and returns with a simple overcoat. Pale green linen threaded with scattered flecks of gold and silver. He shakes his head at her. “You’re cruel.” “And you’re easy.” She laughs again and leans in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. He turns his head to catch her lips instead. She pulls back after a long minute. “You'll smear my makeup.” “I have half a mind to do much more than that, wicked wife of mine.” “Promises, promises.” She hums quietly. “They’ll just have to keep until after.” “Are you two ready yet?” Anakin strolls in, in the same overcoat ensemble Obi-Wan holds. He takes Padmé’s hand, brings it to his lips. “Beautiful.” “As are you.” She grins, tossing a pointed look to Obi-Wan who smirks back at her. Anakin looks him over, tilts his head at his half-open shirt. “Love the casual look, but can you get a move on? Guests are arriving and you know I’m no good with this delegation crap.” Obi-Wan rolls his eyes. “Some King Consort you are.” “Hey, we can’t all be gifted with your ability to entertain  even the most brainless politicians—” “Ani—” Padmé half scolds, half calls, gesturing vaguely at the light cape she’s trying to secure around her shoulders. “It’s true, you’ve said so yourself.” He fixes the cape around her. “Maybe so. But they’re our guests and it’s best to practice politeness now so we don’t insult anyone later.” “Like how you called the Zigyu delegate a— what was it, Obi-Wan?” “A 'half-witted bludfly larva.'” “Yeah, that.” Anakin bites back a laugh and Obi-Wan grins. “Not your finest moment, my love.” “Which is why—” Padmé glares at them, “—we should practice civility now.” “Well, it’s gonna get uncivilized pretty quickly if you leave me to my own devices out there much longer. So hurry up.” Obi-Wan shakes his head amusedly and finishes dressing.

#hey this is technically my first 'real' oad too! so that's fun #obidala #obianidala #my writing

[axl-ul]

The Flight of the Western Crane: Chapter Fourteen

(A reupload/repost of my fic/dark retellingof Journey to the West which can be also found on AO3 under the same name)

(General info about this fic/wip/retelling is here)

****

Under the sky, thick redwood tree giants, golden larches and discreet gutta percha trees were covering the area with their wide veils. Every single twig played in various shades of green, the only colour which seemingly brought some vibrancy to grey daybreak. Yet, under their leaves, an unbelievable humidity carrying the stench of decay and boiling hotness quickly wrapped around the group of armed travellers who took hiding in the swampy groove, making their scaly skins under the armour drown in salty sweat mixed with dust and peeling skin. Only one of them didn’t seem to care much about the tough conditions despite the thick fur covering him from head to toe. Standing in the darkest shadow, he appeared as a terrible statue dressed in a tattered cloak and a brown waist sash of a beggar. Yet nothing but a pure arrogance of a victorious thunder god was carved into his grotesque features.

The nameless monkey’s pupils had to burn with tiny orange flames so he could keep watching the cursed Dragon Prince warily. The snow-white body was lying on the moist ground not moving. The steamy fumes streamed out of the nostrils like the gas leaking from under the bubbling surface of the nearby dirty pool. The dead river arm desperately tried to hold onto the last bits of life just like the will of the dragon horse. Its numerous thin fingers stretched out among the low hanging cypresses and low fruitless bushes or lilacs.

The horse snorted from his deep sleep with great difficulty. Lie’s nose was in the worst condition than ever before, the pink was painted over with deep purple and indigo blue from numerous bruises.

While the ominous figure never left the prey out of sight, his fingers played with a tiny flask filled with a dark liquid.

What to ask? Where is Sun Wukong? To trust Golden Wind with the task of hunting down the Pilgrims wasn’t an option he was willing to prolong. His future younger brother must surely know something. Anything.

The macaque’s foot was quickly tapping on the ground as he pouted.

The liquid splashed behind the glass. An inaudible noise for a mortal. Yet for the demon, it marked a promising future.

The macaque brought the item to his vision and observed the essence for the hundredth time. His hawk eyes were as precise as always even now in the treacherous shadows of the swamp. In no way they could have been easily deceived.

Truly, the creature he witnessed had blood darker than the night, darker than the core of the rotting pit, the corner where his damned soul should be.

****

The macaque’s hands brushed away the twigs and lianas of the gargantuan banyan like two rakes. Faster than any other being in the humid forest, he certainly gained a lot of strength from the devoured monkeys of Mount Huaguo. Most of his skin was already covered by golden-brown hair, which got darker with each day. Occasionally, there were red dots sprinkled over the fur on hands and throat which kept holding on, refusing to be washed away by the light summer drizzle. Yet there still remained a few spots on his face, back and legs where the skin and the muscle didn’t replace the dead rock. It, however, crumbled with each step and the more he went, the more flesh was born from it. The freedom washed over him. He wanted to feel like all those years ago when he for the first time saw the golden light, the innocent blue sky threaded with creamy clouds and the waving trees of the wide mountain. He really should have been feeling like an infant as he was freed only a few days ago.

But he didn’t.

He knew he couldn’t. Although, his hunger matched that of a newborn.

His eyes darted around, his mind was stripped of any remorse. The demon wanted to feed. It became his only wish. To feed, to grow stronger, to conquer, to murder, to last forever.

That was his purpose. To survive and to show he was the strongest. In the chaos of the world, nothing was certain. Anything was fleeting, anything could easily get lost. Anything but him. He is eternal.

He desires to be the next sky, the next stars, the next sun, the next moon and wind. The next seas and oceans and mountains. He will last far longer than forever. He will become beyond comprehension. That is his potential, what he truly must become for he was born to achieve it, to claim it.

He. Tianchan Shihou.

The macaque was submerged in his own thoughts; he did not realise the terrible howling coming from nearby.

He stopped. His six ears perked up as he carefully listened.

Yes. A howling. A terrible blood-freezing screech which the inky night should have carried away. But the sound continued. A metal clashed against a metal. The fight resonated and made the curious macaque come closer. From behind a massive boulder coated with moss, the demon carefully observed. 

What he saw, he couldn’t believe.

A being with a head of a one-eyed brown dog and horse hooves leaped against an unbelievably tall naked creature which resembled a person only in the structure of the body and the amount of limbs. Its skin was as pale as fresh snow, a perfect contrast to the dark hair wildly flying around as the creature ducked down from the incoming attack. Even though it didn’t last a second and the distance between the two enemies and the monkey was rather big, the demon noticed a pair of dots located on the creature’s face. Eyes. He wasn’t sure, though. But if they were, those were the biggest and the darkest eyes he’d ever seen on anyone. 

Another cry, another spit, another kick into the stomach and shin and they clashed again. Now the demon monkey understood. Their crossed claws were the source of the ear-piercing clang.

The pale one roared in a voice like a thunder. It thrilled and waved around the vast area as the pair fought and bled.

The sight, the view, the sheer speed and might far greater than his own sent shivers down his spine. Not from fear, though.

The pale one shrieked as the twisted dog-creature with a muscular human torso leapt forward and bit down into the lanky neck. The dirty teeth tore down into the flesh until something black started pouring out.

The macaque thought he recognized the winner. However, his judgement wasn’t correct this time.

A sound of meat being torn apart, white bones crushed to dust, a splash of red blood reeking from the hole in the barking dog’s chest as the clawed hand of the pale creature ripped through it. There, imprisoned among those dry dead man’s fingers was a beating heart.

The dog monster collapsed on the ground, motionless, while the pale one’s protruding spine arched back so the pale demon could howl in a bitter victory. Yet, the relieved puffs didn’t last long. Holding the breath for a moment, the face with sunken cheeks turned to the East so the abysmal eyes could inspect the starless sky.

The macaque didn’t understand at first the terror in that face. He followed the direction of the creature’s gaze until he met the rays and warmth of the rising sun. The creature screeched for the last time as it grabbed onto its wounds and limped in the opposite direction. Enormous bat wings grew from under the ashen skin and in a flick of an eye, the thing disappeared in the remains of the night sky as black as charcoal.

Understanding the risks of coming out of his hideout too soon, the demon waited for the sun to fully come out, enjoying the pleasant change of the colour palette in the meanwhile.

Surely, it was a bizarre look on the foreign corpse lying among the numerous flowers of snow-white rhododendrons, bright lilies with spotted yellow petals and carmine orchids. A grotesque contrast for sure, when nobody knows whether to admire the bizarre scene nearly taken out from a fine collection or paintings or to cry out from dread.

These odd circumstances certainly caught the macaque’s attention. But not in the way those dark dots on the dried out twigs and trampled grass did.

At first, he thought the ooze was only covering the affected areas. Looking closer, the macaque noticed a peculiar detail. Everything it had touched was now rotting and hissing as the liquid burnt through.

His brown eye with a scarred brow twitched. A malicious toothy smile suddenly cooled down the summer air. He vigorously stood up, the heels of his bare feet digging into the wet soil. Quickly, the monkey robbed the one-eyed canine to the last possession. As if by a miracle from the Heavens, a little flask was included, too.

Soon, he proudly started to munch on the meat of the fallen. His face twisted, already distinct wrinkles became even more profound. The taste was nauseating. Not sure whether the meat was naturally so repulsive to digest or it was the effect of the black blood, he spat it out. Although the strange monkey hated the idea of wasting food, his crying stomach and the bitterness building up in the back of his throat changed his mind quickly. The acidic aftertaste kept on nagging him for a long time, even when he returned to his pursuit of the Pilgrims and his destiny, gold-plated on the first glance, yet crooked and rotting deep within.

****

The macaque demon shook his head. The memory used to be exciting. Now, it’s a bitter reminder of his own weaknesses. He must get stronger. The sooner the better.

What’s a better way of achieving that if not becoming one again…or only the sole one?

Soon, the mount’s limbs started to convulse and the macaque with six tattered ears threw away his flaming mask of arrogance.

****

Lie’s heavy eyelids uncovered his blood-shot eyes as the mount was starting to gain consciousness. His strong muscles were sore and exhausted. His legs were bound together by a strangling rope, thus he had no way to stand up. The rough material cut him deep. Those invisible claws and fangs, daggers and needles sucked on his strength and energy, his blood and pain became the source of their collective but twisted pleasure. Worse, the nest of his despair didn’t end there. His heavy body was crushing his innards. His lungs itched and jabbed. Puffing and trying to neigh, he became no more than a jerking worm drowning in a pool of mud and dirt. His heart was beating wildly. Like a wild river, the mount’s boiling blood was running through the veins, his pulse quickened as a fog enveloped his surroundings.

At last, the most desperate neigh stuck somewhere in the unknown of his stranded thoughts. It never reached the outside to be heard by anyone.

His terror, however, bounced back and cut deep into his heart once Lie noticed two flaming eyes targeting him from the darkness so thick and glutinous as treacle.

Lie froze. A tired hoot, a sound more of a low but loud screech than a twittering melody, reached his ears yet it was all that managed to get to him through the thick coat of horror which wrapped around him completely and caused an unbelievable tremor to his body.

“You should rest while you can, Brother Lie.“

He was there. Looking right back at the Dragon Prince. A pair of miniature charcoal pupils encircled by hellish flames. Two damned islands in the middle of a large face painting where the skin convoluted with deep wrinkles until they resembled terrible waves.

“Don’t call me your brother. You’re nothing to me.“ Though still trembling and stuttering, Bai Long Ma himself was taken by surprise by his audacious words.

The stranger, whose dark cloak rested on his wide shoulders like terrible birds of omen, remained unfazed, though. Only the sharp jaw clenched. “Where’s Shifu?“

“Stop referring to him as such! I may not know what you’re exactly,“ goosebumps emerged on Lie’s skin the more resemblance he noticed between Wukong and the demon in front of him,“but I'm sure you ain’t up to no good.“

The horse’s fury had no impact. The six-eared stranger muttered his question again. “Where’s Shifu?“

That was the last drop. The dragon horse inhaled deeply and then spat out a large flame towards the monkey. Once the fire was gone, the Prince bulged his eyes out as he saw nobody standing on the spot he aimed at. But within a few seconds, a dull pain struck the back of his head. The kick caused dozens of miniature stars to appear in the horse’s vision. Then, a clawed hand grabbed him from behind under the throat and elevated the Prince’s head. The fiend whispered to his ear,“Where’s Shifu? Where’s the imposter? Don’t try to lie. I know all of you too well to know where you’re trying to dance around the words.“

“Go…“ Lie puffed, the iron taste spreaded on his forked tongue,“...to Hell.“

The unknown demon chuckled. “Don’t need to. I’ve already been there and let me tell you, Yama isn't as scary as some like to claim. At least he didn’t protest when I made a little update to his records.“

The macaque let the mount’s head meet the floor. The prisoner lay still with his eyelids shut, his initial shallow breaths slowed down and significantly deepened.

Although it was a pitiful sight at the humiliated heir of the Dragon King of the West, the Prince had no intention of letting his only friends down. His inner willpower and courage burnt in his heart and caused the fear to retreat.

The macaque, of course, noticed it. Although it complicated his plans, he wasn’t angry. His thin, strangely playful, smile showed how the creature’s resistance really amused him. The nameless macaque shook his head and politely added,“Sorry for that outburst. I let myself get carried away a bit. Y’know, the temperament is sort of my thing. But, brother, please. Just answer my simple question and we can continue westward soon. I know that you know that Shifu needs us. He’s in great danger. That swarm of demons shall devour him soon. Idiot and Little Brother won’t be enough for protection. I can save us.“

Lie gathered the last strength as his head rose from the stinking brown mud beneath. His voice was fragile, the macaque had to lean in to hear properly despite the six ears decorating his head. “I’ve already answered you. Go to Hell and don’t call me your brother.“

A spit landed in the middle of his forehead. The monkey’s eyes flared up. He grabbed the nearest stone and nearly struck the horse’s head with it. 

Lie’s heart raced as fast as a rabbit followed by the village hounds. He expected the hit to land any time soon. Thankfully, though, a tall viper demon with a disfigured cheek walked out of the shadows. The bald head retracted and hid in the safe zone of his shoulders when he noticed what the demon monkey was about to do. “I’m sorry to bother you once more, sir. Me and the boys thought of a pretty addition to your plan scheduled on the nearest full moon-“

The rock flew right by the snake’s trembling jaw. Like tiny arrows, numeros splinters caressed his wide scar. The scaly demon thanked the Heavens perhaps for the first time in his miserable life because when he turned around, the stone knocked a hole into the mighty trunk. Without ever looking back, the lone macaque growled, his index finger stretching out from the slim hand,“Golden Wind, this was your last warning. Let’s be honest, ‘thinking’ isn’t your strength. Let that part to me. One last thing, so I don’t forget. Don’t you dare to disturb me ever again. I’ve been holding myself back so long around you I consider it my new record.“

Goosebumps emerged like tiny sharp hills on Golden Wind Viper’s greenish skin. It curled and crinkled as bulging eyes emerged from the skull. Backing away like a defenceless mouse, the sweat drops flooded his temples for the second time and fell to the smelly mud beneath when the nameless demon suddenly turned around. Golden Wind Viper let out a whimper. Before he managed to run back to his troop, the tired monkey sighed and ordered the viper fiend to interrogate the monk’s mount. A clumsy salute and the viper was no more.

Before the nameless one jumped back to the shadows to get some sleep after the rough day and night, the hoarse voice of Ao Lie made him stop and bared teeth. “I may not know who or what you are. But trust me, it won’t take a long time for me to break from these chains. I, Ao Lie, the son of Dragon King of the West Sea, swear to the Jade Emperor and Buddha I shall save my Shifu and brothers from whatever you plan you got.“

“Look at yourself. You can barely keep your eyes open. Stop giving yourself these false chances. Spare yourself and myself the embarrassment.“

“Not in this life nor in the next one if I’m not destined to reach the West. But as long as I breathe, you bet I’ll do my best to do so.“

A long tail swished like a whip, the macaque bounced from the floor of the swamp and gripped on one of the branches of the nearby banyan tree.

“I have one last question for you before your lackeys come to beat me up.“

The macaque smirked, his dark eyes glistened once again and cut the fumes rising from the dirty pool in half. “Then speak your mind up for the last time today, Your Dragon Highness.“

“You think you may know every secret thanks to your six ears. But how are you so confident you know any of us, especially Brother Wukong, so well? We’ve never met.“

The simian didn’t answer. Instead, he let Golden Wind Viper’s belt silence the horse.

Finally, he reached the highest branch. As soon as he climbed up, the cicadas resting on the wood flew up and spreaded on the wide blanket of the sky, which was slowly but surely changing its cool shades of grey to pink and carmine.

He lay down despite the cries and screams coming from underneath and closed his eyes, slowly drifting off. He simply couldn’t be bothered by the suffering of the horse disciple as the dragon prince chose his path himself. Those cries and chokes would end soon anyway.

However, the macaque wasn’t able to find any peace in his sleep. He kept on changing sides, turning from right to left, then from left to right. He cursed under his shallow breath because of his earlier decision to remember the fateful night of finding the black blood of the pale creature. As much as he tried, he couldn’t forget the face of that thing. It always stared back at him from the pitch black of his long dream.

Prolonged, gaunt, protruding.

And those eyes. Those two blackest coals on earth were slowly tugging onto him. The longer he kept looking back into the abyss the more he was getting devoured by the creature inside out. Something crawled on his arms, on his legs, under his skin. He no longer felt the sensation of fighting somebody dangerous.

He’s lost, alone. He’s drowning in the dread as he realises that thing, whatever it is, is clutching onto his mouth and dragging him deeper. As if to turn him into an abomination of its own.

His shallow gasps are no longer enough. For the last time he tries to look behind, to look for the poor trace of remaining light, a place he could escape to. Alas, he found no sun shining in the horizon. Nothing to turn the dreadful curse into dust and ashes. To burn its very presence away until no proof of the thing’s existence remained.

The darkness of those two cursed eyes was gazing at him. Only then the nightmare left him be and the macaque finally took a deep breath in his finally achieved rest.

****

Wukong shot up on his bed. Slowly turning around while scanning his surroundings, he could bet the strange dream occurred only a few minutes ago just as he was slowly dozing off. Now, as he was sheepishly approaching the red window, the rays had already caressed the city’s splendid palette of roofs. The Great Sage was thankful though. The image of strange black eyes was starting to vanish. How he achieved such visions and whose empty stare it was, he had no idea. As far as his attempts to recall anyone with such unique features, the list was getting thinner and thinner till there was nobody left.

Shaking his head, he walked up to the large porcelain bowl painted in deep blue and red. Next to it, a water vessel was sitting, sounds of splashing water echoed in its long neck when the demon picked it up. Slowly pouring the cool water down his head, he occasionally massaged his sore temples. Veins on it were bulging and pumping the boiling blood. The scintillant droplets cascaded down on his naked chest, the drastic change of temperature made it quiver like leaves in the autumn.

Yet, he always felt as if that lingering stare was burning a hole into his brain. To avoid to this day an unfamiliar feeling of dread creeping around the corners of his mind, he directed his attention elsewhere.

He recalled another detail which still managed to unsettle him, though.

Márgerdra didn’t share the room with him last night. She did show up in the monk’s room for a brief talk about the dinner story but she soon vanished once again, never to return.

Where did the witch go after last night? Did she stay with the captain for the rest of the night? Did she like his company more than that of their group? What if something happened to her? Captain Jun was no obstacle for Wukong to fight off and the witch certainly possessed the same set of her amazing combat skills.

Yet there was nobody to have her back. The crane could’ve easily led her to a trap. Wukong was a fool to let her go that easily.

Then, something else crossed his mind. This time, a thought significantly more chilling. A thought well familiar to him. One he’d wanted to turn blind eye to since their reconciliation.

She betrayed them. She betrayed Mei, Shifu, Bajie, Ol’ Sha, Lie. She betrayed him. She made a pact, sold them away. Just to save her own hide…

“Nonsense.“ Wukong gritted his teeth and stomped off to the nearest armchair to sit down and tame the wild herd of his worrisome ideas. Having nobody to talk to, to unburden himself, he whispered the lament under his nose, his trembling hand ruffling the thick thatch of wet hair stuck to his forehead,“C’mon, she wouldn’t. Ever. She’s a friend. Blondie knows when to pull out from the danger. She’s not Yawen either. She might be a foreigner and look weird but… She’s not…evil. Right?“ The low rasp stuck in his throat, unable to come out and carry out any more words. All the simian could do at that moment was to look to the side and face the small bronze mirror left on the low table, the same piece of furniture which carried their hands during the writing lesson. Wukong clearly saw his imperfect reflection. The lips contorted like a wild python crawling across the jungle and the varying length of his face. Underneath, when he took a closer look, Wukong noticed what a pitiful sight he was.

After rubbing face with water and a piece of white cloth, which was lying nearby, the markings on his face were washed away. The lack of paint revealed the dark circles and dry skin under his eyes, no longer joyful, only tired. The words, sentences, feelings, it was all being washed away from the shore of his stranded self, leaving him with nothing. Although, the longer he sat in loneliness, the more taunting the vultures of loathing became. Slowly he began to remember how innocently Márgerdra acted in front of him. How vulnerable she was in privacy. Suddenly, the rage flooded him no matter how much he tried to keep himself in check. His pulse quickened, the stone heart was cracking and beating like a blacksmith’s heavy hammer against his ribcage. His clawed hands dug into the redwood of the armrests. Dozens of splinters stuck under his nails, sinking deeper and deeper into the meat. Red blood trickled down his pads, then down the carved wooden spiral and dripped on the stone floor, creating tiny red suns and stars across the matte grey. Their edges were as sharp as the tips of Wukong’s fangs which shone in the morning sunlight. The fur lining his chiselled chest and abdomen bristled. All of a sudden, Wukong’s right leg shot up and landed on the floor hard, the brisk motion helping the simian to quickly stand up from his seat.

He paced the length of the room. He was beyond being furious. Now, the simplicity of the only emotion nagging onto him kept him on the verge of breakdown.

Uncertainty.

When he thought he was about to lose his mind, the sliding door opened and a person entered.

Wukong fastly turned around in hopes of finding the woman. Although his wish was left unfulfilled, he was still overjoyed for the presence as it finally chased off the dreadful silence where not even the larks sang through.

Before Wukong managed to spat all of his questions, Bajie shot up his hands and informed,“She’s with Her Highness now. Both are sleeping. No need to worry, Big Bro.“

Wukong couldn’t contain himself anymore and snarled,“Why didn’t she then come here?!“

The monkey’s unpleasant manners worked up the former heavenly marshal. “Do I look like I know?! If you want to fight then go up to her and leave my poor hide alone!“ He then uttered,“Already behaving like a jerk from the morning, aye?“

“What did you say, Daizi?“ Wukong’s eyes narrowed until only two slits remained. “Perhaps I didn’t hear you right. Repeat it.“

“Look,“ Bajie rolled his eyes, not giving any attention to his hissing senior,“anything that's going on in your head is beyond my business. Not that I don’t care about ya. Not at all, Big Bro. Sometimes, though, you’re such a tough nut to crack and it’s not that I’m getting paid to ruin my nerves with your tantrums. The same goes for our pretty lady with golden locks. Now, it’d be for the better to calm down, alright? Remember what Shifu always tells us? Inhale, exhale. Again. Don’t let your emotions take over you.“

At first, the Sage unwillingly did as he was told to. Few seconds later, he was breathing in and out spontaneously with maximum ease. His tensed body relaxed. His lashes flickered like butterfly wings once he came back to reality.

Bajie, not waiting for any apology, had taken a seat in the meanwhile and began to feast with fruits presented in the bowl by the window.

The Monkey King leaned against one of the major pillars. He sighed. “What happened last night?“

Sweet bits stuck in Pigsy’s throat, scratching it badly. The middle disciple began to cough and choke and tear up so much Wukong had to tap him in between the shoulder blades. “C’mon. We had a deal, Middle Brother.“

Zhu Bajie hesitated. His gaze lingered on the doorway and briefly thought about the witch. In that very moment, regret spread inside his heart and reigned with an iron fist. Although he was aware of his promise, to upset either Wukong or Márgerdra was his last intention. Not because of fear. He simply didn’t want his close ones to suffer. He already saw enough of that in the witch’s hidden manners.

“Bajie, spit it out.“ Wukong’s hoarse voice pulled the pig out of his thoughts.

“Are you sure, brother?“

The Monkey King simply nodded, no emotion displayed on his face. But Bajie knew all too well how much it was boiling inside the old monkey.

“Promise me that you won’t say a thing to the witch. Now lean over a bit, Big Bro.“

****

Márgerdra’s lashes fluttered as she was waking up. Beside her, the young princess was still snuggling the witch. At first glance, the young girl seemed to be at peace. However, her hand was tightly clutching onto the blanket her advisor threw over her at night. Occasionally, her expression contorted, muscles waved, making her look upset or worried, though it was hardly because of a dream.

The Wolf Witch completely understood the Princess of the Great Tiger Kingdom. The Northerner didn’t feel much better. Indeed, she was glad that at least Mei was able to fall asleep and rest, even if it were only for a while.

Márgerdra cringed as she leaned over in order to peck the princess’ forehead when the younger woman let out a deep sigh. Fortunately, the attempt was successful.

The large blanket with a golden rooster pattern shuffled upon the witch’s struggles to get up from the bed. Her hand was pressing against her stomach while the puffing woman, all too pale for it to be normal, walked towards the green teapot.

The steamy fluffs lingered over the surface of the herbal tea. Its heady aroma spread around and it easily filled Márgerdra’s nostrils. The unmistakable earthy notes of cinnamon and fennel accompanied the slight tingling sensation the ginger caused in the witch’s eyes. Márgerdra wished to drink the liquid as soon as possible, alas, she growled when the somewhat sweet taste soon turned into iron-like as the tea burnt her tongue and cheeks. In her anger, she nearly threw the cup against the floor. Recalling the sleeping girl, she changed her mind at the last second.

Slowly sinking into the armchair, she rubbed her face, the swollen lids heavy from the sleepless night. Her tongue was sliding up and down her mouth and teeth as the Wolf Witch tried to keep herself from puking.

The exasperation slid under her skin, made its way deeper through the flesh and finally settled down around her innards, choking them.

How more useless could the protector get? She hated how much immobile the cramps and the fatigue made her.

The dismal mood didn’t have intentions of abandoning the woman. Even more, it seemed to have intensified because in her vain attempts to focus on the strong first impression, the last night with the captain left Márgerdra with a sour taste in her mouth. The more time had passed, the more rotten the image of the man, deprived from any greatness she once tricked herself into seeing, became. The worst of all, the demoness knew all too well this wasn’t about the captain only.

Her fragile fingers quivered like the few feathers of the caged finch as the despair, the loneliness which was lurking around the corner jumped and dragged Márgerdra into the blackest ooze of her dying self. She no longer fought. She was too tired from the pain twitching the muscles of her otherwise firm belly. She only closed her eyes and let herself be carried away, not knowing the young princess was slowly coming back to her senses.

****

The threads of the setting sun shone through the carved spirals on the shutters into the long corridor inundated by the dim light of the ceramic lamps which were displayed in circular alcoves carved into the cold rock like numerous tiny soldiers on the watch. Some of them were accompanied by small screens with an ivory support and portrayal of the noble peacocks with wide green eyes on their tails, pond herons with blue and white wings, grebes crowned with black and orange crests and lastly the always present proud black and white cranes dancing in the snowy country with their bright flaming red crowns tilted back, the birds seemed to reign over any other birds, the sky and the land in all the paintings and embroidery.

The soles of two pairs of feet softly landed one after another on the floor, neither of the visitors knowing they were secretly followed by a boar barely managing to balance on the roof above. Although Márgerdra had her suspicions after a roof tile slid down and broke into tens of miniature pieces. Fortunately, the presence of the guard captain was too alluring for her to go and investigate.

Initially, the Captain of the Royal Guard observed the foreign-looking woman sparsely. His confidence returned fast, though, and the man raised a question,“Do you enjoy your stay here so far?“

The right corner of the woman’s lip rose, something the captain had no chance of seeing as he was walking by her left,“Why wouldn’t I? The meal is delicious, we have a roof above our heads, we’re well protected thanks to you, captain.“

“You’re too generous, Miss Yaling.“

“I don’t think so, captain.“ The couple stopped what allowed the witch to face the dashing soldier. His jet-black hair, which was finally allowed to throw glints as the captain freed the strands from under his helmet, was tied up in a knot allowing the long contours of his noble face to be better observed by the she-wolf’s watchful gaze. Márgerdra felt like fish being thrown back into the water. She finally took hold of her cards and she was grasping onto them as if she were gripping on the reins of a horse brought to be tamed. “I’m being fairly honest with you. Or do you want to tell me you’re not much used to such good manners, perhaps?“ 

Her sultry voice made the crane demon chuckle. Before Jun could add anything, Márgerdra seized the opportunity,“Am I dreaming right now? Is that a smile I see on your face, captain? I thought you can’t do much apart from your stern expression. It looks like you’re full of surprises. My husband could learn from you at times with his difficult nature.“

The words made Jun laugh out loud, this time. “Miss Yaling, I could pass as a sort of an enemy of your husband. Yet you dare to make me an example for him to follow?“

“I might have married him,“ Márgerdra came up to him, making sure her natural scent highlighted by the flowery perfume was presented properly to the man in front of her, and whispered with a foxy smirk,“But I won’t pretend he’s flawless.“

“What a cruel woman you can be, so harsh on your own lover.“ Jun returned the favour and closed the moderate distance between them. Yet his mind had always stayed bewildered by the striking features of the beauty. “At least you’re not as cruel as somebody else I know. Though you both have a similar, let’s say, approach to conversation.“

“I know very well where you’re aiming, captain, and I’m not sure whether I should take this as an offence or not. I am no Miss Yawen.“

“Your words carry the weight of a threat but your eyes are still smiling and so I’m sorry but I just cannot take your warning seriously no matter how much I truly desire to do so.“

“What a long sentence. I’ve never witnessed anyone so well articulated. That makes me happy.“

“May I ask why?“ Jun slid his hands carefully around the blonde's thin waist. Her skin radiated under the blue silk, an experience so magnetic the crane couldn’t help but give it a small squeeze.

Muscles of Márgerdra’s right leg stiffened at the last second. Her whole limb felt as if it were on pins and needles. Like by magic, she fought off the urge to twist and bark. Though, taking control over the fist and not punching the man in the middle of his face proved to be so much more difficult. After all, Jud had zero of Wukong’s charm and friendliness. Only the surrounding circumstances and Márgerdra’s own stubbornness to achieve her goal saved Jun from carrying away a bloody nose.

“It means you’re going to be a delight to ask a few questions.“ The witch forced a chuckle and easily slipped from his grasp. In a moment, her long lean back presented itself to the captain, meanwhile she was marching towards the large open window with the view on the whole city and the wide hills and mountains behind.

It didn’t take long for Jun to take a seat on the windowsill next to her.

“Captain,“ the woman started coldly,“as I mentioned I’ll be honest with my intentions. The bandits were able to infiltrate not only past the city gates but even into the palace. Which means they must be well familiar with the infrastructure. This fact leads me to the inevitable question whether they are former residents. Or whether they have somebody to rely on inside. Although, there’s still the secret third option.“

“Which is?“

“Both, naturally. Do you have any idea? Before you get suspicious, let me clear some things up. My family is now directly involved in whatever this mess is. I want to know my enemy before I get to snap their neck for endangering my little sister.“

Jun became more relaxed in the presence of the enigmatic woman. He leaned back, his gaze lowered, focusing on the folds of the light fabric wrapping around her hips and thighs. “I can see how you charmed Huang. Very well. I decided to trust you. For now.“

The Wolf Witch cocked her eyebrow but kept smiling, even though these oddly familiar manners unnerved her more and more with each second passed.

Rolling her blue eyes and puckering red lips the blonde went on with her act of a seductress. However, inside, something poked at her. Both Jun and Wukong shared her husband’s confidence. However Jun also carried his raven black hair, his tall stature, his piercing gaze and sharp nose. Those bits and pieces of her lover were so much stronger here than in Wukong. Yet, she felt so much safer, so much alive and like herself in the presence of the monkey demon. Not around the soldier. Neither around Ereanth.

“You’re right. The bandits did originate from our citizens and even from our ranks. They might also get some help from someone around here.“

As her ears finally heard the news she hoped for, the witch relaxed, stretched her back and propped her head against her palm. “Good. Go on, captain. Who is the ‘help’?“

“I’m not so sure. You may want to ask your husband. I bet you two lead wonderful debates each night.“

“Is it Miss Yawen?“

“Might be,“ Jun scratched his beak-like nose since he did his best not to focus on the woman whose heaving bust was perfectly illuminated by the lamps and the weak distant sun. The orange flames created a perfect mix of the light’s warm tones on her creamy skin. “I wouldn’t be much surprised.“

“Why so?“

When Jun didn’t answer, Márgerdra inconspicuously added,“Is she related to the fiends in any way? Well, apart from being a snake herself. Literally and metaphorically.“ Even though she muttered the words, Jun clearly heard the venom in them and grinned broadly.

Was his gaze also this shallow? Márgerdra thought and she caught herself not actually wanting to know the answer. She wasn’t even certain who was the target of her question. All in all, the thought sent shivers down her spine. Something she hadn’t experienced in years. After all, until now, she’d revelled even in the most superficial attention given to her.

“Golden Wind Viper, the leader of the bandits, used to go under the name Jin and he was one of the highest ranking officials in our army. Yawen is his twin sister. Those two have been inseparable and you can imagine what sort of beasts they were and still are.“

“Yes, I can. The same way I can hear the hatred whenever you say her name. From my own experience, hatred and passion are two sides of the same coin. You and Miss Yawen were having an affair, weren’t you?“

The remark pulled Jun out of his trance. His knuckles turned white, his eyes widened meanwhile Jun’s full lips parted.

“My apologies, captain. This was highly inappropriate from me. Let’s change our topic, shall we? We started this evening as allies, friends even,“ the witch pushed herself closer until their knees touched and though she didn’t drop her alluring smile, she visibly softened her gaze which created the much needed effect. Her look was a brief one and she soon focused on the charming landscape beneath. She did let him stare a bit longer, however, while she adored the chirping of thrushes which were hopping on the rooftops but mainly in the treetops of pines like naughty children, a small protest against the setting sun. The murmur of the river played gently into the lullaby of the upcoming evening. Little by little, the Heavenly horses of the Jade Emperor were running back to the stables and as they did, the numerous clouds were getting dragged away by the immense herd. “I’ve never seen such beautiful nature. Not even back home. Or while on the journey with Wei. Truly, this is a jaded treasure one shouldn’t touch and harm.“

Captain Jun cleared his throat,“Precisely, Miss Yawen. That’s the reason why our dynasty settled down in these vast lands.“

“Has it been a long time since then?“ Márgerdra didn’t look at him yet she sensed the growing tension and added,“I don’t see the city much expanded beyond the walls and so I’d like to congratulate you on keeping the mountain mostly untouched with all the citizens around.“

The argument worked with the captain and a proud smile settled on his lips. “Her Majesty came to these lands a long time ago. She was fed up with the hypocrisy of the world and desired to create a place for us, demons, to live in and to cultivate ourselves.“

“How? By eating people?“ Márgerdra snorted, bitterly amused by the story she heard so many times before. It was a lie she herself used to claim many centuries ago. “By stealing one’s life essence in a blink of an eye? Because this sounds like an excuse to become a power-hungry tyrant yourself. No offence, of course.“

“You have a sharp tongue, Miss Yaling. I must admit I like that in a woman. But be careful, you’re speaking with the Captain of the Royal Guard.“

“And you’re speaking with…“ In the heat of the moment, the blonde’s tongue nearly slipped as she was prepared to announce her title. She quickly had to change her reply. “My apologies, captain. It’s just…“ Searching for the right words, Márgerdra decided to discreetly admit her deepest fear. Sighing, she hung her head low to watch over her nails and palms and muttered,“Please, don’t take any offence in my words as my rage wasn’t directed at you. Simply put, you remind me of somebody I used to know. It was most inappropriate to drag you into matters you know nothing about. I offer you my deepest apologies for that, captain.“

Márgerdra shot up her head, her expression stern, ridden from any deeper emotions. Yet, her words were truthful, spoken with vigour and honesty, the captain had no reason for doubt. 

This time, it was Jun who snorted. Not from amusement, though. His eyes glistened like lightning striking from the indigo sky.

“You are truly strange,“ he directed his gaze into the unknown distance of the mountain range while simultaneously resting his chin on the formed fist,“my aunt is going to have a wonderful celebration with you around.“

Fortunately, this remark led Márgerdra to a newly formed plan. She wanted to know more about the water source she discovered in the chambers. Now was the perfect time. “Yes, the celebration. I wonder what the feast is going to be like.“

“Wonderful just as always. Though, it might be ameliorated this year.“

The spark in her sultry voice was brought to life once again,“How so, captain? Do you prepare, let’s say, a special present for Her Majesty?“

“To be honest, she’s preparing it for herself.“

“Are you not going to tell me?“ Although the captain’s wild eyes flared up with dangerous flames, Márgerdra’s daring nature couldn’t be scared away and the woman continued with an absolute ease. “Captain Jun, I hope you do realise I’ve been telling you things I wouldn’t announce to many people and that I’ve declared I have no intentions of betraying your trust. After all, I’m all but at your mercy right now. Don’t think I’m naive. I know your hand on the hilt of your sword isn’t twitching for no reason. I also know you’ve noticed the whip dangling under my robes and that I pose a threat to you.“ The man clenched his jaw once Márgerdra motioned towards his right hand seemingly casually resting on the pommel adorned with jades and emeralds of the curved sword. “It would be utterly foolish to try and assure you with words only that I became warier over the course of the past few days. I’m not afraid to pay the highest price in case you truly obtain the impression I might be a spy or even worse, a danger to your loved ones. I can be a woman of many lies and deceit. Yet, strangely, or rather ironically, the honour isn’t a foreign word for me. We have a common enemy and a common goal - to keep our families safe. So if you think I’m lying to you and have ulterior motives, don’t hesitate,“ the long sleeve rolled up and the demoness stretched her right arm on the table next to them,“unsheathe your weapon and strike.“

Despite how quickly the foreigner saw through the soldier’s intentions and worries, Jun remained equally composed,“Do you recognise the weight of your words, Miss Yaling?“

“I do. So should you, Captain Jun.“

Bajie, who until now had been silently cursing under his breath while trying to find the safest position on the roof, went completely pale. He brought his large palm closer to his ear. The old wood of his diminished rake scraped his shaking finger.

Jun paused. Eyeing the woman for a moment longer and replaying her invitation over and over again, he came to the final conclusion.

In a blink of an eye, the Captain of the Royal Guard unsheathed the shiny blade and brought it down upon the woman’s bare arm.

Bajie’s heart missed a beat. His eyes watered, his mouth agape yet no grunt or a yell escaped from the horrified boar. He was too far away. All he could do was to watch the witch’s arm being chopped off. He saw the bloodied limb falling to the floor. He saw the mutilated woman scream in pain and cry for help, for the unbearable pain to stop only for the soldier to cut off her head, as well.

At least that was the scene his mind pictured in that sole moment of pure dread. Because the reality made him shiver, nearly shed a tear, from true happiness, although he still cursed himself for not choosing a wiser spot or a hideout. 

The blade stayed lingering right above the elbow. The soldier offered the witch a smug smile when he saw that not only she didn’t budge, Márgerdra never stopped piercing him with her icy gaze either. Neither did her breathing become irregular.

For a long while, they remained in their places, unmoving like the aeons old two mountains of the universe.

Slowly sliding his sword back into the red-gold scabbard with a flaming blue feather emblem, captain Jun returned to his seat visibly well amused,“You’re truly something, Miss Yaling. Your courage matches your beauty. Since you managed to convince me I will share some information under one condition.“

Márgerdra crossed her legs. “If it’s related to me keeping my tongue behind my teeth, so be it. That won’t pose a problem to me.“

“That’s not the case.“

The witch cocked her fair eyebrow and pouted her cherry lips. The root of her nose wrinkled slightly but the Lady Wolf Witch did nothing else.

“I suspect your husband must truly adore you. How couldn’t he? Nobody could ever reach your beauty, not even the Lady of the Moon herself. I wonder what you really are. What sort of treasures and flowers you hide under all those garments. What your sweetest fruit tastes like.“

The blonde laughed out loud while her fingertips caressed the bare collarbone. Her provocative eyes glinted in the approaching darkness. She loved every bit of his attempt to chase her. “Men are truly simple creatures! Never ever in my life I’ve heard somebody say something so lewd yet so poetic. Captain, you’re lucky you’re this handsome and you know your way around the words.“

“Is it a ‘yes’, then?“

Bajie stiffened. He was utterly appalled by the soldier’s courage and even more, the witch’s pleased behaviour and playfulness, though the pig demon had been a witness to her foxy manners before.

“What do you think when you see a woman smile in the light of the rising moon?“ She drew closer and waited for the captain’s own response. It didn’t take long for his right arm to envelop her hip.

The crane demon leaned over to whisper in her ear. His fingertips delightfully brushed against Márgerdra’s ear lobe and his breath tickled the side of her neck.

His voice was low, slightly nasal, inaudible for the most part for Pigsy. However Márgerdra heard every single word he aimed at her. The edge hidden in the plain sight of his faint smile also didn’t escape her notice. “My aunt used to be one of the Immortal Cranes on Mount Kunlun. She served the Immortals whenever they came. However she disliked some of their decisions and didn’t appreciate that some of the cranes and dragons weren’t rewarded enough for hard work. You see, we used to carry Immortals, we were their messengers, rides, servants and even protectors if needed. Yet our efforts to cultivate ourselves were never enough. My aunt decided to leave the place and come down to lower regions where she could continue without the Immortals. However, she was considered to be one of the most reliable and capable cranes there. They didn’t want her to leave for she’d even taken an oath. In the end, it led to a rebellion.“

“You keep saying ‘we’. Were you also there?“

“Yes.“ Jun grew more melancholic with each word. “My parents, my brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles, grandparents. I was only a freshly hatched colt. My aunt was the only one to survive and we both shall never forget that ‘punishment’ of Immortals, the old bastards backed up by the Jade Emperor.“ His spat landed on the floor in front of them. “I hope he’ll get what’s coming for him.“

The conscience was biting onto Márgerdra. She was well familiar with the captain’s pain and sorrow. “Captain, please, accept my condolences.“

For a while, they kept on being silent as two mice. Jun couldn’t help but bitterly sigh upon the memories flooding in. “Good thing the Kinbutcher wrecked the Heavens back in the day before he turned his back on the rest of us.“

The name, which Jun barked out, rang a bell, however Márgerdra couldn’t quite put her finger on it. “I’m sorry. Who?“

“The Kinbutcher,“ another spit flew through the air,“Sun Wukong. One of the mightiest demons in existence. The bastard who cultivated himself until he got strong enough. When the Jade Emperor thought he was too much of a threat he decided to listen to his rats and tame the Monkey King…“

“I know this story, captain. Don’t think I’m that unfamiliar with the local legends,“ Márgerdra rolled her eyes,“I only haven’t heard that nickname. Did I miss something?“

The soldier chuckled, his fingers curled until they reminded of talons. “Sun Wukong turned on us the day the young monk freed him from Buddha’s imprisonment. Since then he's been murdering his fellow demons on sight. One by one.“ His teeth clicked next to Márgerdra's ear. “Hence the nickname. He’s just a puppet now. Both he and the Tang monk be damned. If only we got them as soon as possible. To hear that wretched macaque cry over his ticket to freedom being eaten alive by us is going to be music to my ears. Just the fact he shall finally understand how much he screwed over himself and how far he’s fallen from grace while we ascend thanks to the knowledge and immortality gained from the Golden Cicada’s tender meat…“

He didn’t need to finish his sentence. The pieces of the complicated puzzle started coming together. The witch understood most of his outrage. The betrayal, the sorrow, the hatred and loneliness were old friends to her. But she could not shake off the feeling of dread when she thought of all the spilled blood.

Sanzang had been kind and she could not think of a single day she wished any harm to him. The young man didn’t pretend to be generous. Simply, his soul was indeed a blessing to anyone he spoke to. His disciples were no different despite their flaws. Inside, all the Pilgrims possessed courageous hearts. Just like her little plum Mei. The idea that Jun would go after them in his bloodlust and blind hatred crushed Márgerdra’s soul.

To think she once thought similarly and not only herself  but also the one once so dear to her cold wolf heart…

“Captain, your story is a heartbreaking one. I’m sorry to hear about such a tragedy…“ The woman attempted to change the topic despite the fact she was trapped between disliking the captain because of his family’s future plans and feeling sorry for the crane demon.

“That is alright, Miss Yaling. It’s been a long time. Though the Dynasty of the Azure Crane doesn’t forget that easily. We will have our revenge. We just need to wait a little bit longer. You see, the little crane baby wasn’t the only thing my aunty managed to take in all that haste.“

“If so, what was that other ‘thing’?“

“Two seeds of two precious trees. Once was supposed to be a present, a symbol of divine nobility, for the Jade Emperor and Xiwangmu. The other one’s a fig tree which can give up to twenty immortality fruits. Now, the trees are highly guarded in the upper gardens and the palace residents aren’t allowed to freely speak of them. Even Miss Yawen hasn’t been told the whole truth about them, only miserable bits, though the harlot thinks otherwise.“

The shared secrets widened Márgerdra’s eyes. She was finally back on the track and she wasn’t going to let go of her lead, not even in a dream.

She kept her tone gentle like a morning fog, a perfect veil for her real intentions. “Then why are you telling me your secrets? I know I’ve caught your attention. But even the Tang Emperor’s concubines cannot feel safe with him. Is it that you can easily snap my neck if I betray you?“

“Precisely.“ Perhaps for the first time, Jun’s smile froze, he slowly blinked as if to drive away the gloomy thoughts. However, he continued to caress the woman’s cheek with all tenderness. Soon he came back and his sweet whisper went on,“Did I say I’ve never seen anyone with such marvellous eyes like yours? So pretty in colour. Those two splendid shades, my darling. I can’t decide whether I desire the amazing waves to wash over my body in your left eye or to fly high up in the clear sky of your right eye. Your lips, they seem like the sweetest lychee in the world. You can’t imagine how much I desire to explore their divine taste…“

The Wolf Witch grinned. Despite she’d heard such flattery before she couldn’t exactly deny the crane demon didn’t manage to stroke her ego. “Is that so, sir?“

Jun nodded while giving out a silent sigh.

“In that case go on,“ while speaking, Márgerdra brushed her lips against his. At the last second, when the captain was prepared to deepen the fleeting touch, she pulled away, her palm pressing into his tunic interlaced with gold threads, a pleasant change for his usual armour,“but you better hold onto your part of the deal, Captain Jun. Don’t you forget, I’m doing you a favour. I’m still a married woman and my husband’s waiting for me. What’s the real deal about the fig tree?“

“Very well,“ Jun finally pulled away, too, though the eagerness in his glistening eyes remained. “There are twenty fruits in total growing on it. When the right time comes, one can eat them. The fig shall give you additional strength, it shall also grant you immortality. You won’t ever need to worry about old age catching up to you, marking your youth with terrible scars. Instead, your body shall become lighter, eternal, its marvellous beauty preserved forever.“ Jun leaned over and deeply inhaled Márgerdra’s smell. Simultaneously, his hand slipped around her waist again, warming the skin under the woman’s brocade skirt studded with carmine peonies and pink magnolia flowers.

“Immortality?“ The witch snorted. Like a wasp trying to get into the beehive, she was searching for another way to unravel the knot. To make sure her plan would work, her hands once again started rubbing his steel-like shoulders. “Is this vanity all such a treasure holds or are you hiding more from me, dashing Captain Jun?“

The strategy seemed to have worked out.

The captain broadly grinned. His head tilted backwards as if the demon was thriving in the intimate attention. The delight intensified in both when the foreigner started stroking his muscled chest. At first, Márgerdra adored his desperate response to her touch as the captain, equally eager, grasped onto her firm thigh. His thumb massaged the side of it, making slow circles around, something her Ereanth used to do. However, Márgerdra was now seeing the other side of the guard captain. No. Of her former husband. The memories flushed her all at once. She recalled the side she was always turning blind eye to. Something she willingly buried in the back of her mind simply because of her inner desire to achieve peace. To settle down. To start a family. “Who knows, my beauty. Maybe, it’s like you said. It should be added that the fruit can even heal the most fatal wounds, bringing the seemingly dead back to the world of the living. To say the least, it’s quite a win if you get your grasp on it. Unless you eat the unripe fruit. Not only it shall crumble in between your fingers, its ash is poisonous and kills anyone holding it.“

“That, my wonderful darling sir, I can trust you on. But tell me one more thing before our time’s up.“ Getting more nervous about the realisation kicking in again, this time stronger than ever before, she straightened up and drew her neck away from the man’s lips. 

“Anything for you.“ Though the words belonged to the captain, all the witch saw was a green-eyed man from her past.

“The trees of the Immortals must be great possessions. How do you supply them, then? I suspect you must be using another source than the river running through the city…“

It wasn’t the annoyance the she-wolf saw there but rather lightning of fury and suspicion. His reply was evenly sharp though Márgerdra clearly heard his effort to stay civil with her. Whether it was out of politeness or out of respect, the witch had no idea. “Yes, there’s a great lake behind the mountain. It’s located on a vast rocky platform with a strong stream. We don’t need to ever fear for it or the lake to run out dry. Thanks to it…“

“...the two halves of the city, the palace and the gardens are equally supplied with enough fresh water with the river being a nice back-up,“ the witch finished the sentence, leaving the captain with wrinkled eyebrows and pursed lips. “If there’s a platform like that right behind the palace, aren’t you afraid of Golden Wind Viper’s attack from there?“

The captain let out a bark of laughter,“The fiend would never dare to cross such a high peak even though he could easily infiltrate Her Majesty’s palace this way. A beast is guarding and tending the stream as it deems the water as its rightful home. The creature is dangerous. Occasionally we can hear its roar every full moon when it comes to scout the surroundings.“

“Aren’t you afraid of it, dashing sir?“

“You said it yourself. I’m a dashing soldier. The fear is the ultimate unknown for me. Her Majesty made a pact with it anyway. We feed it and give it offerings and the beast lets us use the water. You know what they say. Don’t bite the hand that feeds you.“

“I see.“ Márgerdra let Jun plant a few kisses on her jaw and neck while she squinted, a sign of a pursuit for another question. When he leaned in to steal a kiss of her own lips, she stopped him once again.

“You’re never going to let me claim my reward, are you?“

“I am, dashing sir. But you woke the curiosity within. What does the beast look like?“

“I don’t know, I’ve only seen it from a distance. It’s probably a distant relative of the Dragon King. Now face me, my beauty, and let us enjoy the last touch of our deal.“

Although the soldier’s desire was undeniable, the Wolf Witch, like a sly fox, tried her luck for the last time,“Do you think you could sneak past it?“

“Of course. Aunty said that the beast recognizes her and me by our scents. She says she introduced me to the stream guardian when I was but a little chick. Since then, quite a long time has passed, a few centuries. But the beast still remembers who saved it from the rock crushing its foot.“

The two looked each other in the eye. Márgerdra was now sure. Ereanth’s stare has turned shallow, vain. The one she preserved a false image of. A made up memory of a person she idealised to fulfil her desperate dreams.

No! This was Jun. Somebody completely else. Somebody whom she didn’t fail. Somebody who didn’t fail her. No, no. Ereanth would never fail her or anybody else. He was a courageous hero. A great husband. It was all her fault they were no more. She didn’t meet the expectations. She betrayed her love.

Jun’s looking at her, his expression soft. On his pale forehead, coal-black brows faintly raised, his lips parted.

Márgerdra focused on that. This was the reality. Jun was real. He was the one with her now.

Márgerdra closed her eyes as she leaned into the kiss and soon she deepened the union. Jun gladly took his chance. He moaned, enjoyed the feel of her tongue pressing against his, her leg hooked around his hip as Jun’s fingers dug into the flesh.

Márgerdra wished to cherish the moment as she’d dreamed since she had first laid eyes on the handsome soldier. But now, she was clutching her eyes just to avoid the disappointing reality, the state of her sorrowful circumstances she landed herself into. She had no idea that Pigsy, the one who now knew what not to mention to his senior brother, was a witness to her silent lament.

In her soul, the woman gritted her teeth. Yet her restless mind always brings her to her husband.

The flower of anguish bloomed inside her heart. Its iron petals stabbed her, cut her, made her bleed like never before. The green-eyed man was looking at her, though his gaze was as hollow as a trunk of a rotting tree. His touch slid past every part of her body and yet he remained so distant as if he wished not to be with her, not to claim the happiness of their wedding night, such intimacy where they finally promise one to another. Then again, he did protect her when needed. He was always there when she was upset or unsure. He even tried to find solutions to many of her problems. Although was there any inner fire beside the friendliness? Was he listening to Márgerdra? Or was he only hearing the witch out? He was an ally, a friend. But was he ever more? A close friend? Though she did care about him, had he been ever something more to her? Had she been more to him?

Did they, in the times of despair, loneliness and hatred, confuse their feelings, tricking themselves into something that could never be?

The cruel truth she knew long ago but refused to admit was deadening. Settling down, it crushed her like thousands of stones which crumbled down the steep slope on the day Wukong saved her.

If only the Sage hadn’t caught her on time. She wished that at least one of the stones had hit her head on that day and for her limp body to be swallowed by the mass of rocks never to be taken out from under the pile just for it to become the next meal for vermin.

A grave without the title, a single name with no surname. A girl that never came to grow up and stand up for her beloved big sister, their gentle master who they deemed a father, her little…

Driving away the anger, the hatred, the sorrow, the regret, she somehow convinced herself to give into the pleasure. That was until she felt something long stroking her nape dangerously close to her golden mane. Before Jun’s hand reached her hair fully, the Wolf Witch broke the kiss, the act which left the breathless crane not only speechless, but his brows furrowed with deep wrinkles by the root of his nose too.

The lamps in the long empty hallway went out. The cold wind rose and claimed even the tiniest flame there.

“Miss Yaling,“ Jun stretched out to tenderly touch the blonde woman who was now looking past his shoulder into the nothingness like the most wonderful statue devoid of any life,“is everything alright? Did I overstep the boundaries?“

He gave her knee a little shake when she kept on being silent. “Miss Yaling, please, say something.“

“No, this isn’t your fault. It’s just that our deal was about a kiss, wasn’t it, Captain of the Guard?“ Her voice was monotonous, yet it carried the unmistakable hint of steel authority.

Watching her stand up all of a sudden, Jun stuttered, confused by her actions,“Yes, it was. Miss, if I truly offended you, please, know that was not my intention.“

“I do trust you, soldier,“ Márgerdra straightened her light blue gown. She walked up to the sitting man. Her hand cupped his cheek and the woman gently brushed his lips with her thumb. The fingertip carefully wiped off the red lipstick from Jun. Without hesitation, he closed his eyes and enjoyed the tempting moment of their last intimate touches. “There you go,“ she whispered and tenderly slid the back of her palm down Jun’s cheek,“make sure to be properly cleaned before you meet Her Majesty.“

“Or Yawen, I’d like to add. She can be quite possessive and get jealous no matter how much the person wants to distance themselves from her.“

“If you say so.“ The waves of blue, red, gold and pink fabric swished through the air and the soldier now saw only Márgerdra’s back. The long skirt like a long veil dragged behind her.

 Quickly grasping onto his senses, he shouted not caring if anyone would hear him,“Is this the last time we saw each other?“

The woman replied immediately,“In this manner? Of course. I’ve told you. I’m married. This was just a business. Though it was truly a pleasure to meet you, Captain Jun.“

“Don’t you wish for a divorce? I could give you a better life.“

Márgerdra stopped in her tracks. Deeply inhaling, her eyes darted, her lips quivered. If only you knew I already am…

“I already have a better life. Farewell, captain. I hope to see you soon under other circumstances.“

She quickly marched away. After turning around a few corners, she started arching over. She felt her knees had become wobbly, weak. Soon, she had to grasp on her abdomen.

****

The blonde witch shuffled across the hallway. The blush on her cheeks didn’t leave her. It was a miracle she convinced the princess she was alright and that her sour mood was caused solely by menstruation. The princess, a kind and innocent soul indeed, even offered her another sandbag so the witch wouldn’t fear the one she had received wasn’t enough.

‘Don’t worry, Márgerdra. I still have three left. So if you’re gonna need one more, just say.’ No matter how miserable they were, Mei’s cheerful voice always encouraged the witch. In her thoughts, the Northerner thanked the Heavens she had the luck of meeting the young heiress.

Finally, she was in front of the door to her room. Márgerdra sighed in relief that she could change into not only different clothes but also to change the sandbag she was currently using as the item was completely soaked from her blood.

With a faint hope that the room was empty and waiting just for her, she slid the door open.

The little bit of the happiness from the brief morning interaction with the princess vanished into thin air.

“Brother, no matter how much you’re going to insist that I’m hiding something, you’re never going to be right. I told ya everything. It was merely a brief conversation which ended with the talk about the beast-“

The witch’s sudden appearance in the room cut off Bajie in the middle of his sentence. 

Márgerdra gathered the last of her strength and straightened up to show off her full height. She didn’t need to say a word, Pigsy understood everything that was written on her face. Simply wishing a good morning, he used his chance and ran out from the room, leaving the reserved Wolf Witch and the furious Monkey King alone.

She didn’t need to guess twice what his first words would be.

“Where were you?!“

“Chasing the heavenly horses of the Jade Emperor, what did you think?“

“Very funny.“

“Just as funny as you sending Bajie to spy on me.“ Sighing, she took the jug of water and drank from it, not caring whether it looked disgusting or impolite.

“So?“ the monkey folded his arms and began pacing around the room,“You’re giving me a headache, woman. Next time I’m tying a little bell ‘round your neck.“

“Careful with your words, Wukong. That attitude may backfire soon,“ still catching her breath from taking such a sip, Márgerdra nonchalantly wiped her mouth with the narrow-cuffed sleeve, “Now, excuse me. I need to change.“

She stepped out but the Great Sage soon blocked her as he stood right into the middle of her way. “Move away.“

“I’m not your lap dog. Neither am I a circus monkey. Don’t think I’m gonna dance as you whistle no matter how sour your mood is.“ Wukong furrowed his brows even more when the witch paused and observed him in complete silence.

The sunrays were sliding down his cheeks and only now Márgerdra realised why his face looked strange this morning. She snorted through the pain. She had to avert the attention somehow and this was a perfect chance to do so. “Yes, now I see why you’re so unpleasant. You must be missing your eyeliner, don’t you?“

Wukong pouted but didn’t let himself throw out of balance. He offered her an equally mocking reaction,“Yeah, you could use some for those swollen lids, too. I thought Ox-Head came from Hell to say a little hi to me when you walked in.“

It seemed to have worked on the already irritated demoness. She seized the few clothes that were thrown over the armchair, her red nails digging so deep into the fine fabric they nearly tore the skirt and trousers, and marched behind the folding screen in the far corner of the wide bedroom. While passing Wukong, the Wolf Witch didn't forget to growl at him to which the monkey demon only offered a provocative grin. Once she was out of sight, however, his frown was immediately back.

Sliding down the armchair and scratching under his chin, a peculiar iron smell reached his nostrils, however he paid it no attention. The simian barked,“So, are you gonna tell me, blondie?“

All he was met with was a dull silence.

When Wukong was about to smash the armrests with his palms to stand up, Márgerdra muttered under her nose as she hung her blue skirt over the upper edge of the screen,“Jun made me think of something. Let’s say the evening didn’t go as smoothly as I had planned. Though I dug out some information from him.“

The Sage chewed onto nothing. In his mind, scenes of various inappropriate images played over and over and made his skin crawl.“Blondie, I do know you’re a tough one,“ he motioned to his left eye, although the witch couldn’t see a thing,“I know from experience you’re a really good fighter. But I… Did he..y’know…“ The monkey demon had to grit his teeth before finishing what disturbed him the most,“...touch you?“

“Excuse me? Don’t be ridiculous, Wukong,“ she retorted and kept trying to scratch away the dried blood from her skin in the quickest manner possible. Her hand rubbed the rag up and down. She didn’t stop scuffing the skin even when the irritated place turned red and started itching and burning. 

“Look, I get this is none of my business but…“

Fed up with the cloth being already soaked with the fluid and new trickles running down her thighs, she raised her voice,“Then why do you keep asking?“

It wasn’t the question which took Wukong back but rather the firmness within. No matter how much Márgerdra pretended to be alright, how much she tried to hide behind the screen or covered her face, the fragile shake under the surface couldn’t possibly escape Wukong’s sharp ears. “I care about you. Can I not know my dearest friend’s struggles and to help you out? It hurts much less when two share it.“

He saw how her shadow, which fell on the bright yellow paper, froze for a brief moment.

Immediately, though, the black silhouette quickly put on a long robe and tied a sash around the waist as the Wolf Witch came back to senses. “This isn’t what I expected of you.“

“What?!“

“Not in a bad way… Sorry, I don’t know what I exactly mean by that myself.“

The monkey lowered his gaze. Suddenly, the painful lump in his throat was easily swallowed with no traces of strange anxiousness left behind. Still, it wasn’t enough for him. “Would you like to talk about it?“

Though they were rather stereotypical, Márgerdra caught that strange friendly warmth radiating from the disciple again who wasn’t even that near to her. The need to hug him and to be hugged back was building up. It was a strange yet pleasant thought which left her tongue wordless.

The Wolf Witch wasn’t the only one who was slowly being driven crazy by the stillness of the moment.

The Monkey King rubbed his hands together. Although it wasn’t the flames of rage burning him like usually. Now, he felt the unfamiliar feeling of uncertainty made him to be of two minds. Thinking he should have chosen a better approach, he tried to calm down by taking deep breaths and massaging his left palm.

Fortunately, she did give him the answer,“No, not now… But thank you. I just…“

“Yes?“

“No, it’s nothing,“ the  woman changed her mind at the last second. “Can I bother you with something else, though?“

“Blondie, you bother me with many things, just not with your well-being,“ Wukong uttered while he nonchalantly crossed his arms,“What do you need?“

“Mei had tea prepared for us early in the morning. Please, go and tell the servants to prepare the same mixture again.“

“What mixture?“

“They shall know. Don’t worry about that.“

“Hey, Missy Prissy, stop this nonsense and tell me directly what you need. My patience is running thin. By the way, what’s taking you so long behind that screen today-“ The monkey fell silent in a heartbeat. The smell from before, the one which was coming from the witch’s direction, rose up his nostrils again. His eyes widened, though his curiosity took over him and the simian peeked behind the screen.

The bitter taste of his stomach’s content made its way to his mouth.

But he managed to hold himself back when he caught Márgerdra changing the dirty sandbag for a new one. Her weak and shaking hand tossed the old one into the bowl with water. Though she tried to be careful, a few red drops spilled onto the floor. She cursed under her breath even more when she noticed the hairy head of the monkey demon peeking at her.

“What are you doing, you moron?! Don’t you hate looking at ladies?“

“I do! Just thought you were injured or something!“ He yelled back, never hiding his twitching eye and mouth twisting in disgust.

“You’re going to get injured soon if-“ The witch pulled the long purple robe even tighter to her body and remade the strong knot around her waist so as not to show a single bit of her naked skin. Angry and tired beyond belief, she was prepared to scorch Wukong with a lightning bolt from her palm. However, the simian took her by surprise again.

Straightforward as always, he simply shook his head.

Cocking his eyebrow, he motioned with his chin forward and awaited her silent approval to get closer. Strangely enough, not one of them uttered anything and yet, they perfectly understood their companion.

Márgerdra nodded back. Only then he carefully shuffled towards her. Slowly, he knelt down. The witch gently lifted the hanging brocade. Her right leg showed itself to the Sage to be inspected by the disciple.

Wukong’s fingertips slid down the front of her thigh. Her skin was warm, perhaps even warmer than the sun outside. Under his touch, her muscles flexed and it was only now that Wukong realised how strong her legs actually were and that her kicks could truly become lethal. Upon Márgerdra’s sharp inhale, the monkey demon took a piece of fabric, soaked it in water and began to wash the demoness’ skin.

The Wolf Witch could no longer hide how much his actions astonished her. Wukong, a hot-headed brute at first sight with a seemingly unending amount of sarcastic remarks, was now so tender and discreet, never casting a single look under the robe. Instead, he gathered all his patience, even held back his slight disgust. Márgerdra’s lips and swollen eyelids quivered. During the demon’s first touches she was clutching onto her collar. Now, her hands relaxed and rested by the length of her body. Even more, after a slight hesitation she decided to rest them on the disciple’s shoulders.

The Monkey King didn’t mind the gesture. Quite the opposite, a faint smile played on his lips.

“Fennel and ginger?“ he raised a quiet question as he continued in his slight massage downward towards the she-wolf’s foot and then focused his attention on her left leg.

“How did you know?“

“Blondie, I’m not at all oblivious to the basics of medicine,“ the Sage playfully winked at her. “Though, would you like to try a different sort of tea? If the fennel didn’t help much you could try the ginseng.“

The blonde crossed her arms. “Wukong, you’re on thin ice right now. I might be seven centuries old. But I’m not that old.“

“Blondie,“ he chuckled,“it’s not used just for the menopause. I’ve been told it has a similar effect as fennel. You could give it a chance. If you want I can order some for Her Highness, too.“

“That…would be delightful of you. Thanks.“

Once again, they fell into silence. The Wolf Witch felt like falling asleep under the numerous gentle rubs. At least for a short while, she was able not to feel any pain in her abdomen, a wonderful feeling she wanted to last much longer.

“I guess you can’t join me in training for the tournament today.“

“I fear so too, dear friend. But tomorrow-“

“You shouldn’t force yourself. You better rest now,“ Wukong stood up, washed the cloth for the last time and helped his comrade to the bed. “I’ll bring the tea and you can tell me what your little research from last night brought. I can familiarise you with my own investigation. Deal?“

“Deal,“ Márgerdra slithered her fingers into his palm. “But bring venerable Master and boys, too. And Mei but that goes without further saying, I suppose,“ she added with a weak smile growing on her face, her cheeks appearing much healthier than before.

“Yeah, don’t worry about that,“ the Great Sage joined her in the light giggle. “I wouldn’t dare to leave them out.“

The moment he seemed to stand up, the Wolf Witch squeezed the hairy hand. Wukong looked back at her, a clear worry behind the stern expression.

“Jun called you a…name yesterday.“

He offered a flippant grin. “Many call my old hide various names.“

“This one was different, though. He called you…what was the title…a ‘Kinbutcher’.“

The imp as well as his daring smile froze. The sudden silence flooded the vast space, not evening the birds outside dared to chirp or tweet. The time seemed to have stopped. The stare he offered, a deep void consuming everything in sight, was long as if it had no end.

The witch held her breath. She opened her mouth to break off the uncomfortable moment. Soon, she closed it back as barely any sound escaped from the dry throat.

Finally, the monkey demon moved. He licked his thin lips and rubbed his face meanwhile he walked up to the bowl with dirty water.

“Wukong…“ The hurt in the demoness’ voice was unmistakable.

“It’s not your fault.“ Sun Wukong marched out of the room. His demeanour became a perfect contrast, both freezing and boiling hot. Before shutting the sliding door behind himself, he uttered one last phrase not realising the woman had equally excellent hearing. “Just mine.“

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Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added): @vanessaroades-author @rubywrite @aohendo @rbbess110 @jgmartin @outpost51

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List of chapters:

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-five

Chapter Twenty-six

Chapter Twenty-seven

Epilogue

#writeblr #dark retelling #jttw retelling #jttw fiction #jttw fanfic #jttw fic #jttw #journey to the west #jttw au #journey to the west au #writing community #blended with original fiction #original characters #writers of tumblr #jttw sun wukong #jttw monkey king #jttw six eared macaque #jttw sha wujing #jttw tang sanzang #jttw ao lie #jttw zhu bajie #ao3 fanfic #writers of ao3 #wip: Flight of the Western Crane

[poke-professor-in-training]

Regarding Shiny Pokémon

I find the phenomenon of 'Shiny' Pokémon fascinating. I've encountered 3 shinies throughout my travels...

((Graphic made with Pokecharms))

The first shiny I met was a Gulpin who we affectionately nicknamed Bluey! He was very sweet and loved flower crowns. He had been outcast from his home, so we brought him along to Hoenn expert in caring for outcast Pokémon. I love dropping by to visit whenever I can!

The second was a Jumpluff named Sakura. He was the parental figure to a whole little colony of Hoppip and Skiploom in a secret grove in Unova. A very feisty little fellow, but he had a heart of gold.

The third was Jadott the Noivern. Jadott is extremely anxious and wasn't doing well in the wild when we found him. My friend keeps me updated, and it sounds like he's doing really well in the little cave behind her house. From what I hear, he adores chin scritches.

So, about these shinies! I ended up brining both Bluey and Jadott to a safer environment (currently under the supervision of close friends). I'll pop my expanded thoughts about the issues surrounding being shiny under the cut if you'd like to have a read!

Shiny Pokémons atypical colour schemes skin are usually a result of rare mutations during (pre-hatching) development. A prevalent issue regarding shiny Pokémon is their place in their biome's life cycle. Most wild Pokémon have evolved to fit into their surroundings for the sake of survival, general safety and hunting.

I'll use the Gulpin species as an example here! The usual phenotypical appearance is mostly green, which allows it to blend into forest and swamp biomes. This mechanism lets Gulpin stay safe from any potential threats (a form of natural camouflage) while it's still young, before evolving into a Swalott, which is able to more easily defend itself if threatened. Shiny Gulpin like Bluey stand out against their usual forest-y habitats, which makes it substantially harder to find shelter from any threats.

I'll use Noiverns as an example as well. Usually, you can find Noivern in mountains and caves. Their darker colour scheme of black, greys, purples and dark greens lets them maneuver mountain and cave systems with low light with little threat to their own safety. However, with their shiny forms, the skin is a much lighter green. While they may be an apex predator in their environments, the change still promises significant risk (e.g. from other apex predators and from humans).

This same principle of applies to gathering food and/or hunting, as well! Especially for Shiny Noiverns, their brighter green complexion significantly hinders their ability to hunt for food. This is especially heartbreaking when you consider that most Noivern tend to look over younger Noibat as well.

Unfortunately, there are many documented cases of shiny Pokémon being outcast and rejected by their fellows. This occurs mostly in cases where the Pokémon species is a pack species, and mostly due to the shiny's inability to naturally blend in with their biome.

In Sakura the Jumpluff's case, he was incredibly lucky! The sheltered grove I encountered him in was filled with trees with pink flowers and berries and long, twisting pale branches. Smaller grass and bug Pokémon tend to band together, given their stature as easy targets when alone. There was an entire little colony of the Jumpluff evolution line established in that grove, happy as can be, so we left them be.

My last point I wanted to bring up is shiny breeders. I probably don't have to explain in depth why shiny breeding is a generally unethical practice. The sheer amount of displacement and abandonment of non-shiny freshly-hatched Pokémon is a massive issue! Additionally, these sudden influxes have major implications for the area’s ecosystem.

There are exceptions to the case of shiny breeders being unethical with their 'work', but those case are few and far between. If you are truly desperately in want of a shiny Pokémon (e.g. many Performers and Coordinators turn to shiny breeders because they are under the impression that will give them a leg-up in Showcases and Contests), please do your research: there are some breeders out there that do follow ethical practices, Pokémon Welfare Laws and Ecosystem Protection Legislations.

I could really go on, but I would probably just get more and more ramble-y... I'll have to work on that if I want to become a Professor.

#pokemon #unreality #pokemon unreality #gulpin #jumpluff #noivern #ooc: bluey was the first full odds shiny I ever found! I got him in Pokémon Emerald <3 #pokeblogging #pokeblr #pokemon irl #shiny pokemon

[hallowed-wings]

the death of me (how could I have known?)

The more he looks, the more he realises even the world under the water is gorgeous- even for something so simple. Seagrass and bright coral, little alcoves, lily pads and dripleaves for the cod to hide under. He lowers his head to just above the water’s surface, as a couple more cod poke up above the water line, bumping their foreheads with his.

They seem to love it... He loves it too.

[ Or ; the Rivendell Cod Sanctuary, and the Crown's changing of hands. ]

---

( word count : 1.4k || tws : referenced death || Spoilers for Scott & Jimmy's recent Empires Episodes [dated 7th Nov.] )

[ title from ; Like the Dawn - The Oh Hellos ]

Though he wouldn’t admit it out loud, Jimmy’s always held a fondness for Rivendell.

While most of the cold breeze passes by him, pouring down over the mountains while he keeps himself pressed against the side of the outcrop, he keeps his cloak bundled tightly around him as he makes his way to where he’d been directed. Finally, rounding a corner in the cliffside, his face lights up as he spots the pond stretching out ahead of him. Pace quickening until he comes to the edge, his expression fills with awe as he glances down at the crystal clear waters.

Kneeling down at the pool’s edge, he reaches a hand out of his cloak, shivering as his fingers slip into the cool water- though the cold barely matters as a warmth surges through his chest at the sight of over a dozen cod suddenly swimming up towards him. Darting through seagrass and coral, they circle his hand, flicking their fins in delight and peaking up above the water to greet him. A couple of the smaller ones nuzzle against his palm, and he barely holds back the urge to submerge his head in fully.

It’s so pretty, tucked into the mountain’s side with grass and flowers springing up around it. Tall greenery shielding the water from any wind that managed to find its way around the clifface, with dandelions and poppies so comfortably nestled amongst the grass. Though the yellow flowers almost look like drops of sun, glazed with morning dew, he’d always had a soft spot for poppies. Red was his favourite colour, even if it was tricky to come by in the swamp- a land so full of green that even the water is tinted something murky. But the good kind of red… the glow of a campfire, the feeling of love and poppies, like the bouquet in his house that gets fuller and fuller every time visits Rivendell, a couple plucked and snuck into his pocket each time he goes. He can’t help it, really. Especially when at least a third of them were technically gifts from Scott himself.

The more he looks, the more he realises even the world under the water is gorgeous- even for something so simple. Seagrass and bright coral, little alcoves, lily pads and dripleaves for the cod to hide under. He lowers his head to just above the water’s surface, as a couple more cod poke up above the water line, bumping their foreheads with his.

They seem to love it... He loves it too.

Though he waits another moment before pulling back, he plucks a couple planks of wood from his bag, taking the flattest one he can find as he draws a small knife from his belt. Though his handwriting's never been the neatest, with as much caution as he can muster, he starts to score words into the wood. While it is tricky to make it… absolutely legible, soon enough, he holds the sign back to the cod. Another soft smile breaks across as they splash about, seemingly approving of his work.

Resting it back on his knees, he takes another plank, placing it at right angles to the one before as he starts to wrap a length of string around it, fixing the two together as best he can.

With a content smile at his work, he finds a softer patch of land just by the waters edge, reaching up before driving the stake down into it, digging the sign firmly into the dirt. It stays as he lets go, grinning fin to fin as he admires his work.

Hopefully it stays… even despite the wind.

---

The clouds almost seem to part for him as Scott descends through them, wings outstretched and golden tips glistening in the sunlight as they slow his fall just enough until he lands, graceful as always on an outcropping, a swell of pride keeping his chest warm as ice seems to replace the dew beneath his feet.

Though he’s only a few feet away from his house, the sound of sudden splashing from behind him catches his attention, as he takes a few steps back to peer over the ledge.

The Sanctuary?

His brow furrows as the cod seem to scatter beneath the water as he regards them, ducking among fronds of grass, or pushing themselves up against the dirt at the very bottom, the furthest from the surface that they can get.

Their attitude doesn’t change even as he slips his way down to the edge, standing by the waterside and watching. They all rush to the other end, swarming together in a shoal, as if trying to mould together, as one.

The water ripples above them as two dozen sets of fins splash at once, all turning into a sort of brown swirl… Well; almost two dozen- he notes- spotting one particular fish stuck between a piece of coral, tugging hopelessly to try and get itself through the too-narrow gap. Scott sighs, kneeling down by the pond’s edge as he reaches out.

There must still have been a drop of potion lingering on his hands from the crown, crimson sliding down his fingers and hitting the surface, a swirl of maroon sinking into the water, blooming out into a ripple that dissipates through clear blue.

The shoal grow even more frantic as the lone one suddenly reers back, swimming as far as it can back away from the bloom, which- much to Scott’s sudden panic- sends it leaping up out of the water as it lands on the grass, flopping further and further away from the pool- and closer towards the edge. Eyes widening, he quickly lunges with his other hand, wrapping it carefully around the cod’s body before flinging it back at the water, watching as it lands with a large splash back into the blue, and quickly joins the others, merging into the mass that presses itself against the dirt.

Huffing out a sigh, Scott picks himself up again, walking back towards the path until he comes across a spruce sign dug into the wood, crooked from the way the main plank had tilted against its ties.

At least, he thinks it’s a sign- a suspicion only confirmed as he steps to the front, looking down at it.

He’d recognise the handwriting- or rather, carving- anywhere. If mostly from the way it was near incomprehensible.

“ AMAZING SANCTUARY! My favourite! - The Codfather. “

...

“Do you like it? The Sanctuary?”

Jimmy had turned to him, a smile warm as the rising dawn lighting up his face.

“Like it? I love it!” He laughed, bubbling and bright, “The cod seem very happy there.”

“Oh? You can tell?”

He’d hummed a pleased affirmation, glancing at the path they were walking before back to Scott, eyes crinkling at the edges and filled with the same look they always seemed to have when they talked as of late. One that coloured the warm honey brown with flecks of gold; one Scott had never quite been able to explain away.

“They feel safe… Really, if anything, that’s all I wanted. I can’t thank you enough.”

And Scott had smiled, and watched as The Codfather sent him another ever-sweet smile, before he turned back to the building they’d now reached, holding the door open for him.

Barely a half hour later, Scott had left, wiping the remains of swirling maroon potion off the crown’s surface, ignoring that for the first time in a long while, he’d understood the pained emotion in the former-emperor's eyes as Scott held it instead of him. As his fingers ran smooth over the gold, against the feeling of how it seemed to fit just oh so well in his hands, the swirl of his mind couldn’t quite find reason to care.

...

His eyes flick from the sign back to the water, and for a moment he can’t see a single cod at all. Frown settling upon his face until he spots a tail, just as it flickers and disappears behind another piece of coral; out of view, and away from him.

As he plucks it from his bag, gems shining in their pristine gold shell, the crown feels far colder than it ever did in his grasp before, like he’d hear the crunch of ice if he gripped it too tight. A chill runs down his spine, shaking him from head to toe, even if only for a second.

Must just be the wind.

#ah yes to think I was thinking of writing a piece #Jimmy realises he's killed Scott at the festival and mourns #and then I heard that Scott had shot him back and went right then- #and now ; at 5am #here we are :)) #I'll admit I hadn't thought about putting this on ao3 but heyo if people seem to like it I might ; who knows #riser writes #empires smp #flower husbands #solidaritygaming #smajor1995

[mandoalorian]

The Secret Of The Wish [Max Lord x F!Reader] SEX POLLEN

Summary: You’re a new intern for the Wall Street Journal, sent out to interview Maxwell Lord, a businessman who has suddenly found financial success in the oil drilling industry. When you ask him what does he owe his success to, he gives you a surprisingly honest answer: through the power of the wish. You make the mistake of humouring him, and playing along with his little story until he proves to you just how powerful wishing can be.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT (sex pollen in the form of wish granting therefore there is automatic dub-con) unprotected p in v, male oral, handjob, tit play, butt play, spanking, cockwarming, creampie, degradation, praise kink, office sex, power-shift, dom/sub dynamic, implied age difference, mutual pining.

Word count: 4400>

Masterlist

REBLOGS appreciated! 🤍

Black Gold Cooperative was booming with business. Even the outside of the building was swamped with hundreds of people who were desperate to get inside and speak to Mr Lord himself. Luckily, you were a journalist for the esteemed Wall Street Journal and your position in the company had earned yourself an interview with the successful CEO. The entire world had thousands upon thousands of questions for Maxwell Lord, and you were the lucky intern who got to meet with him on this humid Wednesday afternoon.

A tall blonde woman who you assumed was his secretary, led you to his office. All his employees seemed to be young, attractive and wore only the best designer clothes. It was almost intimidating. You couldn’t mess this up. You were conducting an interview with one of the most successful people alive - this could actually be your big break in the industry. Taking a deep breath, you made an attempt to swallow away your nerves before making your way into his own private office.

It was extensive in size, with large plants and statues in every corner and on every surface. Honestly, you found his taste in furnishings to be quite tacky. You knew it was just his way of bragging about how wealthy he was without actually saying anything. He was neck deep in paperwork and he hadn’t even noticed you were just standing there, in his office. Your eyes flicked across his messy desk, taking in the sight of multiple opened bottles of vitamins, colourful smoothies and other supplements. You made a mental note, not exactly pinning the salesman as a health freak. You’d been standing there for longer than you’d anticipated and he still hadn’t looked up, so you cleared your throat and prepared to grab his attention.

“Mr Lord… I’m here on behalf of Wall Street Journal, we’re doing a segment on Company Sudden Search....” you began to introduce yourself but a roll of his eyes and a flimsy yet disapproving gesture of his hand cut you off.

“Yeah yeah, I know,” he grumbled, taking a swing of his green juice before fastening the cap back on the bottle and pulling a face of disgust. If he thought it tasted so bad, why was he drinking it? Maxwell took a minute trying to compose himself for the interview. He’d waited his whole life to be interviewed by the Wall Street Journal and no matter how bad his migraine was… he couldn’t mess this up.

In fact… there was something about the way Maxwell Lord looked in this moment. His bottle blonde hair was sticking up in random places, probably due to the beads of sweat that laced his forehead. His tie was pulled open and his suit jacket was crinkled, yet he still made the effort to keep it on for whatever reason. He didn’t look like the persuasive, bright eyed salesman on the television, that’s for sure. You supposed all those studio lights could make anyone look different, but that didn’t necessarily mean he looked bad. He didn’t look sick as such, just a little disheveled. He kept rubbing his temples as if he had a killer headache. You considered asking him if he was okay, but that wasn’t why you were here.

The prolonged silence made Max Lord look up at you from the many papers on his desk. He was frowning, and if one thing was clear, it looked like he was having a bad day. It looked like he could do with some major stress relief. The first two buttons of his pinstripe shirt were open, and his collar was wonky, and honestly? You had to fight the urge to stalk over to him and help him out. You imagined running your fingers through his golden hair, caressing his face and letting your hands wander down his chest. You imagined whispering dirty little things into his ear until he ached for you. There was something about teasing a higher-up that you just couldn’t resist. Nevertheless, you cursed yourself for the inappropriate thoughts. You were a young intern for one of the most successful journalism companies… and shit, he was the CEO of what had suddenly become the richest organization in the world. He was a powerful man, more powerful than you knew. It would be foolish to mess around with a man like Maxwell Lord.

Maxwell took a shaky exhale and done what he could do best. Fake a smile. Feign confidence. Pretend like he was okay... like he had it together. He promised himself that he would not lose control of his power— he couldn’t— but this moment was only the start of his descent into madness. He never knew how hungry he could get... how satisfying his power could be, until he met you.

“Come here sweetheart,” his frown curled upwards into a smirk and his eyes began to gleam again, just like they did on his famous infomercials. His voice became a little louder, and a little more confident as he stood up and padded around his desk, pulling out a chair for you to sit down on. You hesitated, his change in attitude wasn't lost on you, but still, you obliged, and shuffled into the golden plush chair. The material was so soft and you struggled to suppress a moan. “Everything okay?” he asked you, placing a large ring clad hand on your shoulder and giving you a gentle squeeze.

“Yeah I just… I’ve never sat on anything so comfortable.” you confessed, shuffling around. Maxwell’s eyes lit up with desire at your comment and his gaze fixated on your face.

“Really?” Never?” he chuckled lightly, brushing his thumb against his lower lip as he took in your appearance. Just the shape of your perfect body was enough to initiate something primal in him. The tightness of your blouse and the vision of your short pencil skirt that cut off mid-thigh already had his cock straining against his tailored suit pants. “I can think of at least one more comfortable thing in this office for you to sit on.”

You’d be lying if you said you were unfazed by his little flirtation. If any other middle aged man had said something so crude to you, you’d have snapped back with something witty to put them in their place. But Maxwell Lord wasn’t any man and his charm alone had cast you under a spell. Your knees were weak and you felt like putty under his touch. Even when he removed his hand from your shoulder, you felt completely and utterly submissive to him. 

You cleared your throat and opened up your notepad. “I’m just here to ask you a few questions…” you told the businessman, biting your lip nervously. Maxwell nodded and sat on the edge of his desk, waiting patiently for you to get started. “So uhm, Forbes is reveling in the fact you’re self made… but not much is known about your past. We don’t know about your family or where you come from… is there anything relevant you’d like to share with the world?” you asked curiously.

And for the first time, Maxwell Lord broke his gaze with you and looked down at the carpeted floor. “There’s not much to say, really.” he said, but there was something in his tone of voice that indicated he wasn’t willing to provide any further details. Hoping you hadn’t struck a sensitive cord with him, you glanced back down at your notepad to ask him another question.

“I hope you don’t think I’m prying, but not much is known about your personal life. A handsome, wealthy man like yourself can’t be single, right?” you asked, even startling yourself over how over bearing you’d begun to sound. Maxwell let out a chuckle and quirked an inquisitive eyebrow.

“I’m single, yes. Tell me darling, is this Wall Street Journal or US Weekly?” he joked, and you felt a flush of heat radiate your cheeks. You knew better.

“I’m sorry. It was an unprofessional question,” you quickly backtracked. “Do you uhm… do you have a pen… I could borrow?” You asked awkwardly, feeling a little irked over how flustered his simple presence had made you. You'd been so nervous to actually meet with Max Lord, you'd even forgotten to bring something to write with. You were so embarassed. But Maxwell was hardly paying attention to your lack of organization, and instead he just smiled and grabbed a gold encrusted company pen from his desk. “Thank you.” you said timidly. “Can I ask you something?”

“That’s why you’re here… isn’t it?” he retorted playfully. 

“The interview is about Company Sudden Search and for some reason there are no questions about your company… just you,” you frowned apologetically. You hadn't come up with the questions, one of your executives had. You were just there to look pretty and milk as much information out of him as you could. “I guess the world is curious about you, Mr Lord. More curious about your private life than this empire that you have created. But Black Gold Cooperative had been off the grid for many years only prior to this week and now suddenly you’re the wealthiest company in the world. You’re the richest man in the US. And data shows absolute no correlation towards that. Your purchased oil wells were dry until one day they just weren’t. It wasn’t gradual, but Mr Lord, we are living during the Cold War and oil is as scarce enough as it is. How… how did this happen? You must know something.”

As you rambled on, Maxwell stared dead into you. You hadn’t been asked to say this, this was coming from your own interest. You had done your own digging about this (just like any successful journalist would), snooping into Maxwell’s business and finding out exactly which oil fields he owned and how much oil was in them in the first place. This wasn’t coming from the Wall Street Journal. This was coming from you. Maxwell never expected to be confronted with such a question. You were practically trapping him, but the way you could swindle the truth out of him was an attractive quality of yours. Not many people could get the truth out of Max Lord.

Maxwell chuckled lightly. He could tell you. It wouldn't make much of a difference. Besides, you’d be foolish to believe the truth. You’d think he’d gone insane. Had he gone insane? These damn migraines… he was drunk on power… his mind had become corrupt with the idea of fortune and success. And he needed this interview to go well.

Maxwell grinned, as charming as ever, and took both of your hands. “I made a wish.” he told you, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

You paused, unsure what to make of his comment. Was he making a joke? It didn’t sound like he was joking. In fact he sounded more serious than ever. “Like… upon a star?” you asked, giggling only slightly in attempt to make a judgement of whether or not he was just messing with you. Maxwell smirked and nodded his head. He’d expected that you wouldn’t believe him.

“On my journey to self fulfilment I locked into a secret, the secret of the wish. So I wished for it. Or, someone wished for it for me…” Maxwell explained, talking in tongue twisters. His fingers brushed over your knuckles. As you listened to him, he noticed the way your eyebrows knotted together in bewilderment. He was definitely serious about the wishing thing. But if he wasn’t going to be honest with you, then maybe this interview was more trouble than it was worth. Just as you were about to break away your contact with his hands, he continued. “Tell me what you wish for you and I will show you how it works.”

That was quite the proposal coming from him.

You blinked. “Uhm…” He stared at you, waiting for you to come up with some kind of answer. You supposed that you could always just humour him. “So you’re like a genie?”

“I’m Max Lord, sweetheart, and I can make your darkest fantasies come true as long as you just say the word.” he said, his voice dropping an octave.

The sexual tension between you both was undeniable, and it had been since you had entered his office. His already chocolate brown eyes had darkened considerably with lust. You pursed your lips together into a fine line and you tried your very best to ignore the fact that your lace panties were damp with arousal. You knew he was powerful. Strong… sexy. You’d been in his office for barely five minutes and he already had a hold on you.

“I suppose I’d want success in my career. It’s hard… being taken seriously, as a woman in journalism. It would be nice to just feel respected amongst my peers.” you confessed.

“The people at Wall Street don’t respect you?” Maxwell asked, and you swore that for a split second he sounded genuinely concerned.

“Uhm… I feel like I’m not really at liberty to discuss that. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have mentioned it in the first place.” you scrunched up your nose.

“Because you deserve respect, miss Y/L/N.” Maxwell promised you, his hand sinking down to caress your thigh. You gasped under his touch and looked up at the ceiling. “Is this alright… me touching you like this?” he cooed, tracing circles over your pantyhose.

“Mm.” you mumbled in agreement, your eyes fluttering shut as his fingers dipped under the hem of your skirt.

“So if you could wish for one thing… one thing at this very moment in time, it would be for success in your career? Is that true?” Maxwell quizzed, eyeing you up with curiosity.

No.

It wasn’t true.

In fact your career— this interview— was the last thing on your mind.

Fuck.

Silently, you shook your head. “So darling, tell me, what would you wish for?”

You sighed in defeat, remembering that you’d just humour him. It wasn’t exactly professional but he wasn’t helping you out either. Just go along with it, you told yourself. You finally looked back down at him and saw that his lips were moist from where he’d hungrily licked at them, his eyes fixated on your breasts and the way he could just about see the lace print underneath the thin material.

“I’d wish for you…” you shakily exhaled. And that caught his attention. His gaze flicked up to meet yours and he waited for you to continue. “I’d wish for you to let me use you to get what I want. You’re rich… powerful… wealthy…” A gust of air distracted you and a breeze blew through your hair. The windows weren’t open, the fan wasn’t on, and Maxwell looked completely and utterly spent over your revelation. It had just came out of nowhere. There was a few beats of silence and Max looked you up and down.

“What do you want?” he croaked meekly. He removed his hand from your thigh and his whole demeanor changed in a split second.

When you noticed how stiff his manhood was, and the way his precum had already leaked out onto the grey material of his pants, it stirred something up inside of you. He wanted this too, that much was clear.

And now, the roles had reversed. You were no longer the shy intern interviewing the big name CEO, you were a sexy journalist who’s nipples had hardened significantly and you had this fresh yet welcoming air of power to you. There were two people in this office and yet suddenly, you were the one in control.

Maxwell’s perfect, plush lips had parted and his dark eyes followed you as you stood up from your seat. He looked down at the wet patch from where you were sitting and gulped, imagining just how great it would feel to slide his fingers through your folds and feel your arousal himself.

All for him.

“I think you know.” you replied softly, sitting him down in the golden chair that you had once made yourself comfortable in. You pulled off his crumpled suit jacket and discarded his tie, throwing it haphazardly onto his already messy desk, and then sunk down to your knees, spreading his legs apart.

You began to palm at his erection through his pants, involuntarily licking your lips as your fingers danced around his growing bulge. “Ngh- fucking tease.” he groaned, his eyes snapping shut the second he felt you begin to work at removing his belt. You pulled down his zipper and reached into his pants, pulling his cock free. He wasn’t enormous, but definitely above average, and thicker than you’d ever taken before.

“You just need someone to make you feel nice, don’t you?” you cooed gently before licking a stripe up the base of his cock. “All this stress from work… huh? From making people’s wishes come true.”

“You… you have no idea.” Maxwell grunted, his cock twitching in your hands as you pressed a sweet little kiss to his head. His slit was still leaking with precum and you were desperate to get a taste of the CEO. You gave him a small kitten lick, relishing the saltiness of his seed. He was delicious.

This shouldn’t have been happening. Sure, Maxwell was hard before you’d even made the wish, but holy crap, he didn’t expect for this to actually happen. And neither did you. You assumed he was lying, just like he lied about everything else in his life. Afterall, who was going to believe a man who told you his success was owed to wish granting? 

“Mr Lord… you’re so big.” you sighed longingly before making an attempt to attach your lips around his cock. He looked down at you and let his hands grip the back of your head as you sucked on his sensitive tip. 

Who would've guessed that a good blowjob was exactly what Max Lord needed to feel better about himself?

Max felt like he was in heaven. He was already seeing stars. He’d been granting peoples wishes left, right and centre. He wasn’t necessarily touch starved but it had been a good few weeks since he’d gone without sex; his only motivation being to find and harness the power of the dreamstone. But you were giving him the best head he’d ever had in his life. It was like everything was pent up inside of him. His balls were tight and he was achingly hard and in a moment of pure lust, he thrusted his hips deep into your mouth. The sudden movement had you gagging and a trail of saliva mixed with his precum dripped down your lips. You pulled off him, gasping for air but quickly wrapped your lips back around him and taking his length even further than before. If he filled your mouth this good, you wondered how he’d feel filling your pussy.

“Not gonna last… fuck!” Maxwell cried, his cum shamelessly spurting into your mouth. His load was massive and he doubled out of you, the remnants of his seed spilling against your lips and down your chin. His heart was beating rapidly against his chest as he took in the appearance of you, down on your knees, in between his legs, with his milky white cum all over your pretty face.

Despite his orgasm, Maxwell was still hard. He still craved more. More of a release from you. It must’ve been your wish that created this desperation that dwelled inside of him.

“More,” he pleaded, his eyes round and doe-like. “Please, I need more.”

“Say less.” you whispered, unbuttoning your blouse and pulling down your skirt and pantyhose so you were simply just standing there in your white lingerie set. You looked so pure and innocent, and yet you were in absolute full control of this situation. You were the one dominating him.

“You said you wish to use me, so use me.” Maxwell begged as he extended his arms and made grabby fists, desperate for you to come over and help him out. 

He was right. This was your wish. You could play along with this for as long as you wanted. You removed your panties, unclipped your bra and discarded the garments, letting your breasts fall free. Maxwell’s jaw dropped at the sight of you and you stalked over to him. You straddled him and sat on his lap.

With one hand, you wrapped your fingers around his cock again and began to slowly jerk it, beginning a handjob which was more than pleasant for him. With your free hand, you grabbed onto his shoulder and steadied yourself, before stretching your body and pressing one of your breasts into his mouth. His lips latched around your tit immediately and he began to suck on your nipple as you continued to rub his cock. You moaned with pleasure, tossing your head back as his tongue worked at the hard little bud.

You subconsciously found yourself riding his thigh, dragging your dripping wet cunt along his expensive pants and making an absolute mess of them. He experimentally flexed the muscles in his thigh a few times, trying to gauge a reaction out of you and see how you liked it. His teeth grazed your breast and he let himself get a little too excited, peppering love bites all over your chest.

“Yes, that’s it,” Maxwell groaned. “Take what you need sweet girl.” he praised.

You whimpered when he flexed his thigh again and you felt yourself begin to reach your climax. You clenched around nothing and his cock was throbbing in your hand. You knew he needed more too.

You let go of him and he pulled his mouth off your tit with a ‘pop’. You cupped his face with both your hands and adjusted yourself slightly, this time so the tip of his cock was pressed against your entrance. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for his stretch before sinking down onto his length, settling balls deep. “Fuck… Fuck fuck fuck,” you chanted, your eyes squeezing tight shut as he filled you.

“Move.” he gasped, biting down on your shoulder. You whimpered and tugged on his golden hair, sending him into an absolute frenzy.

“Fuck, Mr Lord… oh god please, you’re so fucking big.” you cried, tears of pleasure pricking your eyes. He wanted you to move, sure, but this was your wish, and you were more than happy to just sit on and warm his cock for a few minutes.

Your walls were tight and perfect around him, just like he’d imagined. You brought your finger down to your cunt and began to rub at your clit as his cock stretched you out. Your moans of gratification echoed throughout the extensively sized office and you felt your juices drip down his cock.

“So good,” he whispered. “Move, please.”

“Mmm,” you couldn’t even fumble out words, and your vision was nothing less than a haze.

He rubbed the pad of his finger against your puckered asshole before sliding it in. Your body tensed up at the intrusion but God did it feel good. “Fucking move.” he growled, biting down on your earlobe as he began to thrust his index finger in and out of you.

Maxwell brought a hand down to cup your ass and he gave you a rough spanking. “Move.” He repeated, this time his tone a lot more demanding and less polite than the first time.

And just like that— he was in control again.

You obliged, not wanting to irk him any more, and began to bounce on his cock. “Greedy bitch,” he grunted, spanking you again. “Fuck… thinking you can use my dick for your own pleasure, huh? Everything comes with a price.” he hissed as you rolled your hips over his manhood.

“Oh Mr Lord.” you sighed with every movement, as his cock pressed against that sweet spot inside of you.

“You just couldn’t resist it, could you?” Maxwell asked rhetorically, a villainous smirk crossing his lips. “One great wish and you wish to ride my fucking cock," He had a point. People had come to him wishing for Porsche's, political power,— and you, with your whole chest, had wished to be the one who could pleasure him. Help him let go. “Shit baby, you take me so well.”

Despite his growls of degradation you knew he wasn’t going to last long, if the way his cock throbbed inside of you was anything to go by. You didn’t mind though. He could disrespect you all he wanted. You were more than happy to be Maxwell Lord’s little cumslut. His little whore.

“G-gonna cum, oh fuck, please.” you screamed, pressing your fingernails into his back as you rode out your high.

“Yes,” he moaned wantonly. “Soak my cock.” And with those three words, you came undone, sat on top of the richest and most successful CEO in the world. “Are you safe?” he asked, his hips bucking up into your sensitive core.

“I am.” you confirmed, and without even asking for permission, he spilt his seed inside of you, ruthlessly painting your walls with his cum.

He kept his cock inside of you until it softened and slipped out, and you mumbled something incoherent at the loss of his fullness. Maxwell watched your chest as you heaved, making every attempt you could to catch your breath. He pressed a sweet kiss into your collar bone, and then up your neck and along your jaw. You relished the feeling of his lips against skin; post coital bliss fostering your every thought.

“You’re a good girl,” he whispered, rubbing the curve of his nose against your neck. “I grant you your wish, and in return, I give you the utmost success in your career.” he sighed, and for the very first time Maxwell Lord said something completely and utterly selfless. It was through no gain to him whatsoever. You didn’t deserve to be looked down upon by your peers and employers, he knew that much. And if he had the chance to change that, he sure as hell would. 

“You will achieve things no journalist has achieved before, you will be rich, and be the first to seize every opportunity.” he said in between kisses.

To you, he was just whispering sweet nothings into your ear, humouring your larger-than-life dreams and ambitions. But if there was one thing that Maxwell Lord admired in a woman, it was her aspiration and goals. If you were brave enough to waltz into his office as let him cum all over you, you definitely deserve this. At that moment, you had no idea that Maxwell Lord would change your life forever...

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[scribbling-dragon]

Shifting Perspective

Chapter 1

Summary:

Shapeshifters are shunned, pushed away from the light they helped to diminish. Their God retreated as they were outcast, disappearing into shadows that had only just appeared. Yet, they whisper that He is still present in the crackling of lightning and rumbling of thunder.

His luck never seemed to hold firm, he's rather certain that Luck themselves holds a grudge against him at this point. And, as Luck would have it, he's been cursed with the gift, and truly, who could have been more suited to it than the Ruler of Rivendell?

(Literally anyone else, is the answer you're looking for.)

Chapter Summary:

A small trip over a swamp, and into its marshes.

(AO3 Link)

(Masterpost)

(4,477 words)

The mountains beneath him glimmer in the morning light, snow shifting down great slopes; a fresh and unmarked canvas dotted with nothing but scraggly bushes and outcropping rocks. He dips a little lower, wings casting a shadow over the ground as he drags a hand through the snow, flying a few feet higher into the air to admire his work, shaking the snow from his hand as he does so.

There’s a long line through the snow, revealing the green glass below, an obvious mark on the landscape, even as he continues to drift away from it.

The mountains drop off suddenly, and he spreads his wings further, allowing the feathers to fan out, catching the drifting air rising from the warmer lands below. He allows the feeling for a moment longer, doing a small roll in the sky as he lazily drifts just over the edge, away from any of the ledges that threaten to catch him on their spikes.

He opens his eyes, watching the landscape below him for a moment, before tucking his wings in close and allowing gravity to overwhelm him. It grabs onto him in a second, pulling him down and down towards the earth.

His breath is stolen from his lungs, and he grins from the exhilaration of it, breath catching in his throat as his blood roars through his veins, thrumming and humming with excitement. He flares his wings out wide, hearing the snap as air is displaced from the sudden object, and he jerks to a stop mere inches above the ground.

He doesn't allow his feet to touch the ground properly, simply shoving down and pushing back up into the sky, spiralling through the air. He flies just above the treetops, allowing himself a glance at the flowers beneath.

They flicker as he shoots overhead, small glimpses of colour against an otherwise dark forest floor. The leaves hide most of them from view, but he still manages to see some thick rose bushes and blooming alliums before soaring back up into the air.

He banks to the side, avoiding flying over Katherine’s walls, even though he’s pretty sure she was joking when she said she’d shoot him down next time he did it. He edges along the border of Sausage’s empire, they’re already enemies, he shouldn't provoke matters any more. At least, that was what his advisor said, but they never really did have much of a sense for adventure.

He hovers for a moment to admire the walls, which have each grown by about a foot or two since he last saw them. He doesn't really understand the rivalry, it’s more like a pissing competition between two teenagers, but he’s not going to comment on it, he doubts either of them would appreciate his input.

He’s up and over Jimmy’s wall before he can think things through, his singular destination in mind. He’s been eyeing up a solitary island off the coast of Mezalea for a while, knowing that Joel wouldn't really...notice if it disappeared one day. The king doesn't seem to care much, turning his resources inwards.

He dips a little lower as his vision blacks out, drifting a little lower as he tries to descend back to normal oxygen levels. He shakes his head a little, blinking his eyes a few times to try and rid the odd, heady feeling that comes with flying too high. He’s normally a little better with managing how high he flies, but he must have gotten a little lost in his thoughts.

He looks down to the ground, watching as the green ground and water fly by. The constant motion and unchanging colour makes him feel a little sick, and he slows to a stop, fixing his eyes on a tree on the edge of his vision, hoping the lack of movement from it will help stop his head from spinning.

He drifts a little lower as a sick feeling in the back of his throat begins to build, a clogged up feeling creeping up his throat as he hovers in the air. He needs to leave Cod Empire land, either Jimmy’s soldiers or Jimmy himself will kill him if they find him here.

He shakes his head, hoping to dispel the black spots, but it only serves to make them worse, the dizziness and sick feeling growing as the seconds tick by.

Things begin to click into place when his skin feels too tight, yet too loose at the same time. He dips a little closer to the ground, not wanting to test if he gains invulnerability when it happens. He lands with a stumble and a stagger as he tries fruitlessly to regain his balance, vision completely disappearing for a moment as he grabs for a hand-hold.

His hand goes through thin air, and he falls, head-first, into a nearby bush, only serving to scratch and tear at his clothes as he tries to free himself from its branches. He breathes out a little as he shakes his wings away, letting go of the partial-shift, allowing whatever the fuck is currently happening to take over.

A sense of vertigo washes over him, worse than before, leaving him in a dizzying tunnel of darkness with only a speck of light above him. The stretching and shrinking feeling intensifies, until his vision rushes back in, and he’s blinded by the sudden light in his eyes.

He sneezes once, twice, finding himself still tangled in the bush, but better able to see how to untangle himself now that he can, you know, actually see. He huffs, whiskers around his nose blowing forward with the force of his exhale as he looks down in discontentment.

Of course this would happen to him. He’s meant to be picking up supplies for his empire, for something he wants to make, not having a small mishap with his genetics and getting stuck as a small animal.

He finally wrestles himself free of the brambles, glaring back at the bush and chattering his teeth at it for good measure. His shoulder aches, and he’s sure, if he bothered to look, it’s bleeding. He doesn't look though, sitting down with a heavy thump, tail swishing through the long grass behind him.

He glares up at the sky, at the sun that was supposed to have a god protecting it. Maybe it’s a good thing all of the Old Gods died a long time ago, if they hadn't, he’s sure he would have gone up there and throttled at least one of them by now. If not more. He’s undecided on his murder of god so far.

He pauses his thinking at the sound of shouting, ears perking up before laying back flat as he realises who the voices belong to.

“I swear I heard something, Liz!” Jimmy shouts, halfway into the small clearing he’s currently sat in. He’s not a large mammal, he thinks he’s a mammal at least, by any means, but he’s not as small as he could be, meaning he’s got something going for him, at the very least. “It sounded loud,” Jimmy looks around the clearing, keeping his eyes at his own height for now, “What if it’s another empire coming to- to-”

“To what?” Lizzie’s voice is further away, but even he can hear the obvious boredom in her voice as she steps on some twigs, cracking them beneath her foot. “Steal some of your slime, drink the lovely water you have here?”

“Ha, ha.” Jimmy laughs, face morphing into a frown as he continues to scan the clearing. He stands slowly, beginning to back away very carefully, making sure to not make a single sound, edging back towards the bramble bush that first ensnared him. He’ll be able to figure this out better without those two fish yapping in his ears.

“Oh my gods.” He freezes, eyes darting back towards where Jimmy was standing moments before. He’s further into the clearing now, and his eyes are clearly fixed on him, watching as he continues to back towards the bush. He doesn't make any sudden movements, scared of startling Jimmy out of his shocked inaction. “Lizzie?” He calls, not taking his eyes off of him, even as he tilts his head slightly to the side. “Have you ever seen a white otter before?”

“No?” Lizzie makes her way into the clearing, eyes darting between him and her brother. “But it’s not unheard of, it’s probably just an albino. Leave it alone Jimmy.” She tugs on his arm, trying to pull him away. See, someone here with common sense.

Jimmy pulls his arm out of Lizzie’s grip, taking a slow step forward, crouching a little at the knees to lower himself to his height. He bristles, baring his teeth at Jimmy as he shuffles a few inches closer to him, holding his hand out as though placating a wild animal. He prefers to hold himself to a higher standard than that. “It’s hurt though,” Jimmy frowns at him, pushing some of his hair out of his eyes, eyes flicking between him and Lizzie, as though unsure what to do, “What if it dies if we leave it?”

“Then that would be natural selection.” Lizzie huffs, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms. “It happens all the time, Jim, it’s not nice, but that’s a fact of life.”

“But we can help it.” Jimmy looks back to him, inching closer still, shuffling over dead and decaying leaves, the mulch barely making a sound beneath his feet as he moves steadily closer, even as he continues to bare his teeth at him, a small growl beginning low in his throat and bubbling up.

“Jimmy.” Lizzie warns, pushing herself away from the tree she had been leaning against, reaching her hand out, as though to stop him. Jimmy chooses then to become an idiot - or, more of one than before, at least - lunging forward and grabbing at him, wrapping his hands around his middle, scooping him up into his arms.

He hisses, widening his mouth and hesitating for a second, before securely sinking his teeth into Jimmy’s arm. His teeth rip through the fabric easily, breaking the skin as he bites down, hard. He clings on until Jimmy lets go of him, tasting iron in his mouth the longer he holds on, dropping to the ground and backing away a few steps, watching as Jimmy clutches at his arm, hissing curses under his breath.

Lizzie’s at his side in a second, prying his hand off of his arm and peering at the wound he had just inflicted. He gags a little, spitting the residual blood onto the ground, looking at it in disgust. Even his blood tastes like fish.

He can’t help but be curious, glancing up and trying to get a good look at how much damage he caused. He shifts around to the side a little, tail brushing over the wet leaves, clawed paws sinking deeper into the marshy ground.

He grimaces a little at the mess of blood and skin on Jimmy’s arm, even as he insists it’s fine. It is very obviously not fine, especially as he looks away, trying to discreetly wipe the tears from his eyes, even as the only two witnesses of the situation stare at him.

He finally pushes Lizzie away after she pulls out a potion, likely regeneration judging, as best he can, from the colour of it. She swirls it around a few more times, as though trying to tempt him into taking it. They both roll their eyes when he turns to look back at him, eyes wide and sad.

“That wasn't very nice.” He reprimands, talking to him as though he can’t understand basic Common and didn't just try to take a sizeable chunk out of his arm. “I want you to apologise now.”

“Jimmy, that is a fucking otter. It cannot tell you it is sorry, and judging by the look on its face, it isn't.” Lizzie is, once again, the only one with a braincell in their relationship. Which seems to be rather a common occurrence if her courtship with Joel is anything to judge by.

“That’s just the blood smeared on its face, I'm sure without it, it would look a lot nicer.” Jimmy tries to get close to him again, and he backs up, snarling at him, digging his claws into the soft ground. His tail swishes again, and he feels it brush over something odd.

He twists around, staring at the water behind him. The open expanse of water that probably leads to the ocean. He looks back at Jimmy and Lizzie, taking another short step backwards. Jimmy takes another step forward, then another as he seems to realise what he’s planning - and gods above will he ever get a break.

He twists, diving into the water behind him, kicking out furiously as he snorts out a breath, bubbles streaming from his nose. He hears a splash behind him, ears swivelling towards the sound but continuing on anyway, diving down deeper, swimming through the reeds that populate the river beds, darting between clumps of seagrass, even though they likely don't camouflage his bright white coat.

He wishes, just for once, that he could look like a normal variation of the animal when he shifts, the few times he does. It does a very good job of discouraging him from ever shifting when he’s constantly bright fucking white.

He feels something move past him, whiskers twitching as he senses the movement, unable to actually sense anything else as the smell of blood pollutes the water. He spins around, trying to ignore the red cloud that’s drifting from his shoulder, probably getting infected with whatever disease the Cod Empire has.

He senses the movement again, spinning in that direction and trying to see through the murky water. It’s too cloudy, a deep, almost green colour surrounding him on all sides, making specifics hard to see. His webbed feet paddle in front of him, claws spreading out as he drags them through the water, still spinning in a circle.

He lets out a small squeak as something grabs him around the middle, bubbles cascading from his mouth as he opens it. He yanked above water, still being held firmly around his middle by a pair of hands. He turns, trying to snap at the person’s hands, only for them to be just out of reach for him.

“Jimmy!” Both of them startle, and Jimmy turns around, surprisingly swift considering he’s standing in waist high water. “Just let the poor otter go. It’ll be fine!” She’s standing at the edge of the water, eyeing it with distaste, and, honestly, he doesn't blame her.

“But,” Jimmy’s voice trails off, and he just lifts him higher, as though trying to make a point. He scrabbles at his arms a little, feeling satisfied as his claws catch on something and he’s able to rip more of his shirt. He hopes it’s expensive to replace. Preferably a textiles product from his empire, it would be some kind of compensation after this experience.

Jimmy lowers his back into the water, and he begins swimming before he’s even let him go properly, ducking beneath the water as Jimmy watches him go, not taking any chances as he darts around a bend, tasting the salt in the water before he emerges into the ocean.

He sticks his head above the water, taking a deep breath before ducking back under. He bursts from it a few seconds later, wings scattering droplets from his wings as his clothes drag him down, soaked from their few seconds in the water.

He turns east, flapping as fast as he can, hoping to dry off at least a little before he reaches Mezalea. He sticks close to the terracotta cliffs as he flies over the mesa, making sure he’s avoiding the main populus of the area, sticking to the shadowed cliffs and sparsely populated groves.

There’s a small stretch of water before the island opens up before him, small enough that he can demolish it in the time he has left of the day, but large enough that he shouldn't need to come back for a while. He pulls his pickaxe from his belt, glad that it shifts with him. He’s not sure he could have explained why an otter had all of his items. Not in a logical way, at least.

He begins to hack at the nearest piece, gathering the scattered chunks and shoving them into a purposely brought shulker. He breathes out a heavy sigh, already beginning to overheat in his warm Rivendellian clothes. He debates taking one of the outer layers, before simply leaving, finding he doesn't have the energy to put the effort in right now.

The hours stretch on as he continues to hack away at the island, slowly lowering it into the sea, breaking it apart piece by piece, chunk by chunk, until all he has left is a few full shulkers and multiple worried thoughts bouncing around his brain.

Mining is incredibly strenuous on the mind, leaving it free to ponder and think of different things. The topic of choice that day was the mystery of why he hadn't been able to stop that shift. That hasn't happened since he was a very small child, and even then no one else had seen him, except for-

He shakes his head, cutting the thought off there. There’s no need to dwell on the past anymore, it’s been and gone, it’s had its time, and he’s chosen to ignore it. He gathers the shulkers close, juggling them a little in his arms as his draping clothes drag through the water that’s begun to pool around his ankles, threatening to drag him into the ocean’s depths if he stays much longer.

He beats his wings a few times, sending the water rippling out in waves as he readies himself for flight. There’s nothing for him to leap off of here, no easy take off, meaning he’ll just have to jump and hope for the best with an armful of shulkers.

He jumps, spreading his wings wide and hoping to catch a drift of air. Apparently, luck feels a little bit sorry for him today, as he feels an updraft catch on his feathers, lifting him higher into the blazing blue sky.

He takes a shortcut back over the Cod Empire, hoping the same fate as before doesn't befall him again. He’s lucky, making it out the other side in a few minutes rather than the half hour escapade it had turned into last time with their small game of hide and seek Jimmy had started.

He avoids the Mythland border again, glancing briefly over the walls beyond, before continuing on his journey. There had once been an alliance between them, and an old one at that, one set up before even his grandparents were around. It was probably distant history to Sausage by now, if it was even still truthfully remembered.

Sausage had been nice, at first, and he had gotten along well with the other members of the Wither Rose Alliance. Up until they began to set up more and more anti-shapeshifter propaganda. He can ignore a little bit of it, used to seeing that in every other empire he visits.

He had pretty much cut ties with all of them when he set up his own laws against the propaganda, preventing any of it within Rivendell’s borders. Excuse him for making it so he didn't have to see hateful things with every corner he turns in his own home.

He’s glad, at least, that he got to break the alliance before any of them did, taking satisfaction in their outraged faces as they watched him, silently demanding how he could turn to those that killed their gods. He had been tempted then to reveal himself, and say that even if their god didn't, he probably would have killed them himself. He had resisted, barely so, preferring their relative peace over war.

A cool rush of wind races over him, lifting a few of the feathers on his wings as he shivers, glancing up at the icy peaks before him. He grins a little, even as his cheeks begin to burn with cold, dashing up the side of the mountain and bursting through a flurry of snow.

He’s stopped at the gates as the guards poke through his boxes. He allows them to, even as he wants to just go home and begin unpacking all of the terracotta and setting up for his next project. He knows, even as he thinks this, that he’s going straight to bed. He doesn't care that it’s barely past noon, he’s tired godsdammit.

When they finally decide that no, he’s not actually someone come to kill them, ignoring the fact that he’s their king, he’s allowed to scoop his shulkers back up into his arms, making his way through the gates and into the rest of the city.

He looks up, eyes travelling up the mountain as elves move over it like ants, hurrying up and down the narrow pathways carved into the side of the mountain, making their way around the twisting and winding streets, away from houses and into shops.

He thinks he’s an actual genius for allowing building projects to be moved into the mountain. Carving the rooms from the rock rather than building them has decreased their deaths from hypothermia per year. Who knew he could be such a genius? (He did, his council just doesn't always trust him on it.)

He spreads his wings, leaping and beginning to make his way towards the top of the mountain, landing on the small porch out of the front of his house. There’s several owls gathered on his porch, huddled close together, and they each send him a wounded look when he arrives, shaking off the small dusting of snow he had managed to accumulate during his flight.

“I know, I know.” He placates, slipping the key from around his neck and unlocking the door. He opens it wide, allowing the birds to fly in before him, stepping inside and stamping the snow on his shoes off - he’s not a savage, even if he does, technically, live in a cave - setting the shulkers aside as he grabs his flint and steel from the mantelpiece.

He strikes it a few times, hunched over the logs in his fire, shivering a little in the cold emptiness of the room. He fails to light it twice more, before one of the twigs decides to catch, the fire suddenly blooming with such an intensity that he has to lean back, watching, satisfied, as it spreads to the rest of the logs.

He stops at the feeling of another being in the room, keeping his back to them as he stares into the flame, watching as one of the larger logs begins to darken, flames crackling along the back as the fire begins to properly roar, settling nicely into the fireplace with a showering of sparks.

“Did you need something?” He asks, not turning around, wings tense against his back as he waits for the being to respond. He rubs a little at his shoulder, brushing away any of the dried blood sticking to his clothes, picking at the edges of the frayed fabric.

“Not anything I shouldn't already have.” The voice behind him rumbles, familiar, even through the distortion that lays heavy upon their voice, twisting and crackling as their speech tries to imitate whatever they've become.

“I didn't think you’d be back so soon.” He states calmly, still not turning around. They won’t attack until he does, if at all.

“It’s been over forty years.”

“Oh,” he feigns surprise, still staring at the fire beside his feet, “I hadn't noticed.”

“There’s no need to get snappy with me.” They snap, voice turning brisk and harsh. He rolls his eyes, leaning an arm against the mantelpiece.

“There was no need for you to ditch us so quickly after Nox and Ghysso died.”

“I wasn't ready for the responsibility.” They calmly state, and he grips the marble mantelpiece so hard he’s afraid it will crack.

“You weren't ready?” He turns on them, eyes blazing equally as hot as the fire. “Neither was I, I wasn't even an adult yet, and you put me on the throne, Fallon.” He growls, staring straight at his brother.

“Careful there, Ameer,” Fallon leers at him, “Don't want you turning into a shifty and violent shapeshifter, do we, hm? Aeor forbid you perpetuate some stereotypes.”

“That’s not my name anymore.” He snaps, wings flared out to the sides. “And Aeor’s long dead, there’s no use in invoking his name here. It has no power, only holding sway over skeptics and misguided believers.”

“Fallon’s not mine.” They sniff, looking away, acting as though they're above him, still. “Yet you still insist on calling me it.” They ignore what he says about Aeor, the same as they always do with the gods. They're so set in their faith, so keen to uphold the crushing standard their parents had enforced. It makes him sick.

“You weren't formally disowned by our parents in front of all the fae courts though, were you?” He snarls, hands balling into fists as he resists the urge to shake some sense into them, “You still have a claim to the name. Do you know how hard it was for the elves to accept me as king after you disappeared! They don't want a disowned replacement, they wanted you, Xornoth. If that's still what you're calling yourself.”

“I do almost wish I was around to see that,” they grin, tapping their claws together, “I'm sure it would have been amusing to watch.”

“No, it wouldn't have been. Now get out before there’s a sudden wolf sighting here.” He snarls, a growl bubbling in his throat as a warning.

Fallon- Xornoth, just laughs, eyes full of glee as they watch him. “Oh, that would be fun to see, but I'm afraid I have more important things to attend to. Like the reclamation of my empire.”

“You left it first!” He yelled.

“And I'll watch you die in it first.” Xornoth spins in a slow circle, feigning looking around his home, their horns glinting beneath the light, long, curved and sharp, “I'm sure they've all been itching for some bloodshed. Preferably yours.” They smirk at him, disappearing in a cloud of smoke. They always were one for dramatics. He slumps down in front of the fire, feeling all of the fight, the last of his remaining energy, draining from him as the flames begin to warm his back.

Maybe he could just take a nap here. That would be fine.

#my writing #shifting perspective fic #scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #solidarity gaming #flower husbands #xornoth #empires smp #empires smp fic #juno.writes

[ikindamissbeingphysical]

5 Times Musa wore Riven’s clothes

Read here or on ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29376804

1.

The Alfea Games is a bullshit annual tradition. It's an exam masquerading as a tournament, just a way for the teachers and high rankers of the Kingdom to see who they want to pluck out of the Academy and take for their army, or task force, or some other random position Riven could really not care less about.

Still, he's competitive, and if there's one thing he likes doing, it's beating Sky.

He slashes, a dagger in each fist, at the Burned One projection and it falls to its knees shrieking.

The stands are full of students cheering, and Riven gets a rush at their applause.

"Show off." Sky pants from beside him, as Riven's tally flicks up to 7, and Sky's stays stubbornly at 4.

"Jealous, much?" Riven grins; relieved when the half-time bell chimes because his legs are sore, and the late afternoon sun still burns as it begins to dip out of the sky. He and the other Specialists head over to the shade and he rifles through his rucksack for some water as Sky goes to kiss Bloom, who's leaning over the rail; red tresses swaying in the breeze.

"You were amazing!" Bloom gushes, and Sky beams at her, and Riven mimes throwing up.

Someone laughs.

He turns to see Musa, headphones around her neck, hair in pigtails, and-and-

In his jacket.

She's wearing his jacket. His leather jacket. It's draped over her shoulders. Her bare shoulders, because she's wearing some strapless, form-fitting purple dress, and Riven's coat, she's wearing Riven's-

"You okay, man?" Sky asks, and Riven realises they're all looking at him, and he's still looking at Musa, and her big, brown eyes are lit up a sort of hazel in the red setting sun.

He nods, waving them off, and chugs more of his water, trying to temper his heartbeat.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Musa asks, more quietly, her irises flaring purple. Her eyebrows stitch together worriedly. "You're like- really anxious. It's just a game."

"Stay out of my head." He hisses furiously, petrified that she might be able to see, might be able to tell-

She leans away from him, scowling. "Fine. Whatever."

He's grateful when the bell rings again, but his winning streak is gone. As the flood-lights turn on and the sun disappears, he misses target after target. He keeps getting pinned by fucking rookies and everyone else's tally continues to jump up as his dies on a plateau.

He can see her, in his peripheral, wearing his jacket and she probably doesn't even know it's his. She probably doesn't know how she looks in that leather swamping her frame, the collar resting at her neck, where the skin looks so soft that-

"Fuck, dude," Sky curses, hauling Riven off his ass. "Pull yourself together."

"She's wearing my jacket." He snaps, and Sky looks at him blankly for a moment, before he groans.

"Dude, I know you're like, against sharing, but she was freezing and it was just lying there. I'd have given her mine, but Bloom had already-"

"It's fine, just-" Riven tries to shake it off, "I'm focused."

He can't help a final glance over his shoulder, to see Musa leaning sleepily against the railings, headphones now secured over her ears, resting her chin on her arms. On his jacket sleeves. She's lit by the silver floodlights, and her eyes are half-closed, and he wonders what she's listening to. He wonders-

The Burned One knocks him to the ground, and the buzzer blares.

2.

The next day, traces of her perfume linger on his jacket, swirling around him the way she does, always, in his thoughts.

It's sweet, like honey and vanilla, like home-spun sugar and toffee.

He'd found his jacket right on the bench where he'd left it after the game: the stands empty, the game over. It had been folded neatly and left just beside his things and he'd slid it on and tried not to replay their interaction in his head.

Today's a new day.

As part of Sky's new scheme to become the best boyfriend in the history of boyfriends, they've been sitting with the Winx Suite most lunch times. It's not exactly Riven's idea of a good time. He feels some horrid mix of guilt and irritation whenever he looks at Terra, and Aisha glowers at him like his very proximity will end in her getting a suspension. He spends most of the time arguing with Stella, and trying (failing) not to look at Musa while Sky and Bloom stray the line between PDA and go get a room.

When he gets to the cafeteria and heads for the table, he's surprised, and maybe a little thrilled, to see that it's just Musa at the table.

She stands up as soon as she seems him.

"Good, the others just left. They wanted to have lunch out by the lake. Bloom has apparently ‘found a place’. C'mon, we can catch up."

He has no option but to follow her, and sure enough, half-way across the field is the whole merry-fucking-gang. Riven doesn't know how to feel. Sky could've texted, if his brain was capable of fathoming anything other than Bloom when she was nearby. Were they even going to invite him? Was he going to get to the cafeteria to see an empty table? They probably wouldn't have missed him anyway, he thinks bitterly.

And yet- Musa was there. Waiting.

He looks at her thoughtfully, and her eyes flash purple when she catches him. She winces. "It wasn't like that." She says, "they were caught up in the idea of going there. They weren't purposely trying to leave you behind."

Jesus Christ, can't she just-

"I'm sorry," she barrels on, as they fall into the same steps, almost caught up to the others. "I'm trying to respect your privacy and everything, I'm working on it- my control isn't great at the moment."

"You should work on that." He mutters.

Her shoulders slump dejectedly. "I know."

Well, fuck, he didn't mean to- he swallows hard. "I'm tanking my field training." He says, trying to ignore her look of surprise at this freely-offered information. "Great at everything else, but camouflage? The element of surprise? I'm struggling. It's hard. I also fucking hate it, so there's that."

She huffs out a small laugh. "I bet you just like the thrill of attacking someone face to face. None of that 'sneaking up on you' bullshit."

He grins before he can check himself, and she catches it, and smiles too.

"There you are!" Bloom calls excitedly, "c'mon, we're gonna use Stella's ring."

Riven hates to give Bloom props for anything- and it isn't because he doesn't like her, or anything like that- he's just reluctant to acknowledge anybody's good traits since they all seem so loathe to see any in him- but the lake is nice.

Large and leafy green, surrounded by trees and over-hung by the clear blue sky. There's a sunbeaten deck strutting proudly into the middle, and Aisha strips out of her clothes to reveal a swim suit, and in three great strides, dives in like a dolphin.

The rest of them stare after her in awe.

"Are you always wearing that under your clothes?" Riven asks, toeing off his shoes, watching as Aisha tumble turns and glides through the water like a dolphin. She smiles at him from the water, and he's surprised by the look of it on her face. For the first time, she looks relaxed. Stress-free. Content.

Bloom and Stella change into their swim suits, as he and Sky just strip down to their boxers. Bloom wolf-whistles, and Sky blushes.

Riven puffs his chest out, winking at Stella who scoffs at him. He turns to find Musa. She's shrugged off her coat and shoes, and is rifling through her bag in confusion. She's too pre-occupied to notice his abs. Riven tries not to take offence.

"I can't find my- oh shit." Musa groans, thumping her head. "I left it back in the fire circle."

"Oh! Don't worry, Musa," Terra says brightly, as she sits, fully-dressed, on the mossy bank, with a stack of books beside her. "You can sit this one out with me!"

Musa turns to her with a smile (that to Riven, looks fucking forced) just as Bloom and Sky jump in. They scream, splashing Stella who cannon-balls in after them. Riven watches Musa's face, can see the hidden longing in her eyes.

A part of him wants to tease her, entice her in by saying how much he wouldn't mind if they decided to go skinny-dipping instead, but he knows it ultimately wouldn't work. Instead, he reaches for his discarded black tee, and tosses it to her.

"Should be long enough to preserve your modesty," he says, going for casual and heading for the dock. "Considering you're such a short-arse."

Musa sticks her tongue out at him, but she eagerly turns to get changed and Riven plunges into the lake to resist the urge to watch.

The water is warm and licks at his skin as the sun beats down onto his shoulders. It's deep and he can't quite graze the bottom, and he's suddenly, a little stupidly, grateful for knowing Sky. Grateful that he gets to be here. He floats on his back, staring up at the sky and letting himself just bask in the moment. As the water laps in his ears, he can hear the others laughing, Aisha swimming, Stella screaming, and the sun warms red spots onto his eye lids, marvellous colours in the dark- so he opens them.

Just in time to see Musa standing on the dock.

Suddenly, all his attention is on her. Her long, tan legs on display, his tee, his t-shirt, tickling down past her hips, and she jumps.

Okay. Turns out it's not a leather jacket thing. Anything that's his looks good on her. He could look good on her.

He watches for her when she re-surfaces, as she joins in splashing Stella, and he waits, waits, waits, until- victory.

She swims over to him. A little way away from the group, to where he's treading water alone. The t-shirt clings to her and he wants to touch her and-

"Hey," she says, with wet hair and water droplets on her eyelashes. "Thanks for the tee."

He shrugs. "I'd rather you'd jumped in without anything on."

She hits him, but finally, finally, he gets her eyes on him. They linger, as the water rivets roll down the breadth of his shoulders, his chest, down to- her eyes flicker away, cheeks red.

"Don't be shy," he purrs, "I'm hot. It's not a sin to look. You're hot too. Dancer’s body. Bet you're flexible."

"Wouldn't you like to know?" She murmurs, before her eyes flash purple. He tries not to let it irritate him. He hates the violation of his privacy, but he knows she can't control it- but she turns away from him, and he follows her gaze to Terra, sitting balefully alone. "If I do what I'm gonna do," she whispers, and his heart trips up a little, at her whispering to him over the water, pulling him in closer. A secret just for the two of them. "Promise you won't tell anyone."

Riven grins. "I'm great with secrets."

Musa takes a breath, before she stares at Terra, face tense with concentration, eyes shimmering purple.

Riven turns to look at Terra expectantly. "You're mind-controlling her?"

"No." Musa mutters, still focused, "I'm just trying to increase her confidence, trying to-"

Terra looks up suddenly, and Musa hurriedly grabs Riven's arm to move behind him.

"The water does look good!" Terra calls, "is it warm?"

"Oh, it's lovely, Terra!" Musa hollers back, "you should come in!"

"Yes! Join us!" Bloom sings, from her position perched on Sky's shoulders.

Terra wavers. Riven can feel Musa's hand curled around his arm, her body against his back. "I don't have my costume!" She yells.

"You're wearing like five layers," Stella calls, "you can spare one."

Terra chews on her bottom lip, and Riven turns his head to whisper: "can't you boost it anymore?"

"I'm trying." Musa insists quietly, "I can't manufacture it. I can only enhance what's already there."

"Terra," Riven yells, startling her, "if you come in, I'll let you dunk me."

Sky bursts out laughing, and Terra giggles.

"Well, I can't resist that!" She says, getting to her feet. Riven turns away, looking down at Musa who's beaming up at him.

"Wow." She says, pressing her lips together to hide the glee in her tone. "That was very sweet."

"Fuck off." Riven mutters, but his eyes are on the collar of his wet tee as it clings to her skin. "I only did it because that was bloody painful to watch. By the way, is there anything else you can do with your powers that I should watch out for?"

Musa tips her head contemplatively. "Actually, yes." She lifts her hands and cups his face. He startles a little, at her fingertips against his jaw, before he sees her eyes purple and shimmer, and then suddenly, a weird emotion clouds into his head. It's familiar yet foreign, it's-

gratitude?

"It's meant to be gratitude." Musa says, when her eyes are back to normal and she's panting a little, "I'm not great at-"

"I got it." He reassures her, “I felt it."

She smiles, pleased, pushing away from him to swim further to the centre of the lake.

He watches her go, mind reeling. More powerful than he thought, though he's not sure why he's surprised. He can still feel her hands on his face. He wants to swim after her, but Terra and Sky corner him, eager to see him dunked.

3.

It marks a turning point for the group as a whole.

The afternoon at the lake has softened grudges, strengthened bonds, and Terra talks to him more over lunch. Aisha doesn't bore him so much, not now he can see her for more than a stuck-up rule-follower. He and Stella get along as well as they usually do, but their barbs seem less sharp than before. Bloom has always been pretty accepting, and Musa-

Well, she's Musa.

She's making him lose all sense of normalcy, of sanity, because that's the only reason he'd agree to this fucking slumber party.

"No, I think it was better over there." Sky says, changing his mind for the fourth time, as Riven struggles under the weight of the mattress. The entire floor is covered with pillows and cushions and Sky needs to make up his mind before Riven kills him. "No, no, you were right- put it back."

"Jesus," Riven groans, setting it down and spotting the stack of Disney Princess movies. "We're two guys about to sleep with five girls, and you're suggesting we watch Pocahontas?"

"They won the coin toss," Sky shrugs, "besides, I always liked the little hummingbird."

The girls arrive after Laurie, the RI for the floor, has done her final rounds. They shuffle into the room on tiptoes, and Riven closes it behind them, meeting Musa's eyes. Her hair's down and loose around her shoulders, and he's never seen it like that before. In her soft looking, cotton pyjamas, some rainbow sweater, she's more enticing than usual so he busies himself with the popcorn as Sky sets out the rest of the snacks.

"This is a nice set-up, guys," Bloom grins, getting comfy right in the middle. Sky joins her, and soon, the lights are off- bar Stella's glowing little ball- and everyone's shuffling into place.

Bloom and Sky are cosied up to one another, and Aisha and Terra are tucked neatly into one corner. Stella fancies herself above the ground, and lies on Sky's bed, half her attention on her phone.

Musa settles in the other corner, leaning against a mountain of cushions, and Riven debates for about half a second before he joins her.

"Hi," she whispers, sounding pleased, "wanna hear a sad story?"

Their thighs are touching. Her fleece pants are warm against his bare leg, and the cushions are ridiculously comfortable, and she looks so different with her hair down, her face almost obscured from him. "Sure," he whispers back.

She points are her bare feet. "I forgot my socks."

He snorts. "If that's your idea of a sad story-" he breaks off into a hiss when she cruelly presses her toes onto his shin. "Jesus, they're fucking ice." He complains, and she laughs, tossing a kernel of popcorn into the air and catching it perfectly between her teeth.

He reaches over her, feels her entire body stiffen and does his best to ignore it, opening one of his drawers and pulling out a pair of mis-matched socks.

She takes them gleefully, leaning down to pull them on. Her shirt rides up and he catches a glimpse of her lower back, and when she sits up- she catches him. Their eyes dart away from each other, and the first hour of Pocahontas is a stiff, awkward affair. The darkness seems to electrify the space between them and Riven's too afraid to move. Musa seems to be feeling the same way, but then Terra starts singing along with the song, and the the air relaxes a little.

Then, somehow, in Little Mermaid 2, Riven's oddly invested in Melody and her pull to the sea, when Musa sighs, sinking back further into the cushions, resting her body weight on Riven, looking completely content.

"You comfortable?" He teases, and she smiles lazily up at him, wiggling her toes in his socks.

"Very comfortable." She says, and he isn't thinking when he says:

"You're insufferably cute, you know that?"

He regrets it immediately, but it's slipped out, and Musa barely seems to notice his panic. She just yawns, and then she- she- rests her head on his shoulder, and her hair fans down over him, and tickles his arm.

He feels, suddenly, the rather vicious urge to protect her. He's on high-alert, for some reason, for any intruder, because she's here, half-asleep, resting against him. So trusting. So vulnerable, and-

The DVD menu chimes on repeat, and when Riven looks up he realises that everyone else is asleep, and Stella's orb of light has vanished into darkness, and that it's well past midnight.

Slowly, gently, he rests his cheek on Musa's head, feels the way they're tucked in together, and he closes his eyes.

4.

He's not sure how it happened.

How they can go one minute from a group of friends binging Disney movies, to out here, in the woods, watching Bloom's fucking fire wings and surrounded on all sides by Burned Ones. Real ones. Not projections.

The girls are all glowing, eyes burning, and there's splashes of water, tangling ivy, shooting flames, blinding light and Musa: shouting locations as she tracks them.

"Try to project lethargy!" Aisha screams, clutching one arm, as Sky slashes a Burned One along the chest.

Riven jams two sharp jabs into the torso of another, and growls over his shoulder. "She's already fucking tracking them, Aisha! Why don't you just water-board them some more?"

Musa doesn't mediate their bickering, just whirls and points and says "Another three over there, I can sense them. They want Bloom!"

Sky and Terra immediately run over to Bloom, who has fire burning along her shoulders, and it's so arresting a sight that Riven doesn't even notice when the Burned One crumbles into ash beneath him.

He doesn't notice when another hisses just to his left. He can't get his blade out in time, and it has one deformed hand around his throat, claws pricking into his skin when Musa's suddenly shoving him away, taking his place, and he just has time to notice, to scream- when she lunges forward, and stabs the monster in the chest. It howls, and she yells out in unison, her voice shaking with agony, a sound that'll haunt him.

The Burned One crumples, and Musa with it.

"Musa!" Stella cries, racing over, trying to get closer, but Riven blocks her, taking Musa's chin in his hands, tilting her face up. There are tears stained along her cheeks, and her eyes are still rimmed purple.

"I felt it," she gasps, clutching Riven's arms, still shaking, "I felt it die, I felt it-"

"It's okay." Stella insists, voice shaky, rubbing Musa's back. "You did amazing, you did so great."

Musa clenches her eyes shut. "I've gotta- I can feel more of them."

"Take a minute." Riven pleads, trying to catch his breath, feeling blood move sluggishly down his own neck. "Take a minute, you just fucking saved my life, you're allowed a goddamn minute."

His entire being seems to light up at the small, strained smile she gives him. Stella sees the smile too, so she shoots Riven a look that says keep going, moron.

He doesn't need her prompting. "And what a sexy knife move. Where'd you get that blade?"

This earns more of a laugh from her. Relieved and a little hysterical sounding, but a laugh nonetheless. She holds the blade up, and its blue handle glints in the moonlight. "Stole it from you." She says, and he wants to tell her it isn't the only thing she's stolen from him. She has everything he is in the palm of her hand, and she saved his life. She hands the dagger back to him, and he shakes his head.

"Keep it. You look hot with a knife in your hand."

Musa laughs again, still a little choked up, and the two of them help her to her feet. He doesn't want to let go for her, but she sniffles, nodding, so Riven just sticks close by the rest of the night.

They defeat the burned ones with minimal injuries. Aisha's leg is broken, and Terra's bandaged it as best she can, as they limp back to the school. Dowling and Silva meet them half way, overflowing with worry and gratitude, and at their insistence, Riven collapses into a bed in the infirmary as they tend to his neck.

They put Musa in the bed beside him, and he sees claw marks on her ribs, and it's a good thing the Burned Ones are dead, because it's the only thing stopping him from marching right out into that forest to have their heads.

5.

He's on his way back from the drinks table, two glasses in his hands, when he notices that Musa isn't there anymore.

Terra points to the back door. "She needed to step out. Mind fairy thing."

Riven nods, setting down the drinks and heading for the exit.

It's a warm summer night, and the air is humid, and Musa's standing out on the grass, gazing up at the stars.

She must feel his mental presence, because she turns and smiles.

He heads over to her, and she steps easily into the circle of his arms, and he holds her tightly.

Here they are. At the Alfea Ball, dating. Their three month anniversary is coming up soon, and Riven has something in mind. He's excited to see her reaction. But right now, he just basks in having her in his arms. She's a vision, in a lace-sleeved, indigo dress, her hair up the way he likes, and heels that mean she doesn't need to tiptoe to kiss him.

"Sorry," she murmurs, "got a little loud in there."

"I don't mind," he reassures, dropping a kiss onto her head. He feels her shiver, so he shrugs out of his tux jacket and drapes it over her shoulders. As pulls it around her, she looks up at him, soft and smiling, and his throat goes a little dry. "What?"

"Nothing," she shrugs, "you just look very dapper in your tux. I'm feeling it." Her hands slide up onto the plane of his chest, and he grins, nipping at her nose.

"Shall we get out of here, then?"

She hums in agreement, but tangles her fingers into his hair to pull him down for a kiss. As usual, the heat flares down to his stomach, and he pulls her tighter to his body.

"We should get out of here," he insists, kissing at her jaw, "or we'll definitely get suspended."

Musa laughs, and she leads the way back to the dorms.

Once there, he whispers, low and greedy into her ear, to take off everything but his jacket.

"Is this some sort of kink?" She asks delightedly, once his tux suit is the only thing on her gorgeous body, and she's straddling him, thighs spread over his, her fingers dragging through his hair.

"I don't know," he admits, even though he knows it's only a thing for him when she's involved. "I think I just look really good on you."

She bites his neck and scratches his down his back, and it hurts and he loves it, and she looks down at the marks like a satisfied kitten with tiger claws. "I look good on you too." She whispers, and he kisses her again.

And again.

And again.

#rivusa #riven x musa #fate: the winx saga #mutual pining #fic

[bloededhoine]

world building cause twn doesn't part 8: nonhumans

this is easily the geekiest part of the series. and it's a Very geeky series. because sapkowski's worldbuilding is waaay more extensive than i have the time, ability, or desire to convey, i'm sticking with races both sentient and important

colour code cause i fucking love colour codes - already happened/introduced, probably s2, important background info, stuff that might be in the prequel, extras

series masterpost

dopplers

dopplers, also known as vexlings, shifters, mimics, doubles, imitators, or pavrats, are a nonhuman race that can take on the appearance of nearly anyone they encounter

before mass migrations of humans, dopplers primarily inhabited the forests and plateaus around the city of novigrad, where they would transform into wolves and pack animals to hunt

their abilities are pretty impressive, dopplers can not only mimic appearance but also voice, personality, skills, behaviours, and knowledge. dopplers can even turn parts of their bodies into pieces of clothing or other objects

however, there are some limitations

dopplers can't transform into someone/thing with dramatically more mass than they have, are burned by silver, and can't drop anything they created (if they did it would kind of turn into a fleshy goop)

we've already met a doppler in twn, this sexy sexy man

BUT

it is important to note that this doppler is a huge deviation from sapkowski's lore. dopplers are pretty much always exceptionally kind and gentle. a lot of times they use their abilities to appear threatening (big teeth, sharp claws etc) because they really don't want to hurt anyone.

when dopplers aren't mimicking another form, they aren't exactly pretty. they're bald, short, have beady yellow eyes, and kinda look like they're made from soft clay

here's the hexer doppler

the most notable doppler is dudu biberveldt, who i mentioned as the halfling dainty biberveldt's fake cousin. dudu's actual name is tellico lunngrevink letorte, but dainty decided to help dudu live in novigrad by adopting him as his fake cousin.

dragons

dragons are fucking awesome. you know it, i know it, and zerrikanians know it. witcher dragons are especially awesome

they are the only being, other than cats, that can naturally harness and absorb the force of chaos

there are multiple subtypes, but most dragons fall into one of four: black dragons, green dragons, red dragons, and white dragons.

black dragons are the largest, and primarily live in swamps and wetlands where they bathe in mud. they have extremely hard scales and don't breathe fire, but an acid that causes burns similar to those from mustard gas.

green dragons (right there) are the most prominent yet smallest species of dragon, mainly living in forested areas and breathe highly flammable chlorine gas.

red dragons mainly live in hills and mountain caves and can breathe fire hot enough to melt metal

white dragons are one of the rarest species and live in the far north, and can breathe frost

however, if you watched the witcher netflix as i assume you did, you may remember golden dragons. these dragons are so rare and exceptional that they are not usually included with other species. they breathe steam and fire and can shapeshift into any living being

all dragons communicate through telepathy, although golden dragons can speak when they are in the form of a species that can speak

humans are pretty divided on the topic of dragons, with zerrikanians worshiping them and nordlings hating them.

because they are incredibly intelligent and emotional, witchers (generally) refuse to hunt them

borkh three jackdaws, also known as villentrenmerth, is the only golden dragon we know. there he is right there.

ASSASSINS OF KINGS SPOILERS NEXT TWO BULLET POINTS

the other dragon from twn was a green dragon named myrgtabrakke, borkh's mate. their daughter is named saesenthessis, also known as saskia the dragonslayer (an alias she took to explain her extensive knowledge of dragons) and the virgin of aedirn

because saskia is part golden dragon, she can shapeshift, although is much more limited than her father. she can basically only be a human looking woman with blonde hair or a huge dragon.

cut because this part is getting REALLY long

godlings

ah godlings. i love them so much. they're adorable and precious. they usually look somewhat like a human child, but with blue skin and large amber or green eyes. they don't wear much clothes, their focus is in accessories like jewelry, flowers, or tattoos

that's johnny, a holding in wild hunt.

godlings are incredibly rare, and are easily confused with young goblins. they primarily live in swamps near drowners, but aren't afraid of them.

they're quite mischievous but kind hearted, many have happy go lucky personalities and love just having fun. i adore godlings. i've said it once and i'll say it again.

higher vampires

definitely the most important group on this list, higher vampires are incredibly powerful and intelligent. they can shapeshift within certain limits, generally either looking like a human or a large terrifying bat. they also have some telepathic abilities - they can basically make you fall asleep and forget stuff

scary wooo

higher vampires do not need to drink blood to survive. some don't drink blood at all. when they do, it's like a human drinking alcohol. on full moons, groups of higher vampires go out partying and get white girl wasted

although all higher vampires have the same basic abilities, each individual has one skill they are exceptional in.

most find humans harmless but annoying, like mosquitos. they don't really like interacting with humans, which works out pretty well as higher vampires can blend in very well, even a witcher's medallion can't detect one

higher vampires also have three distinct cultures, the tdet in the far east, the ammurun across the great sea, and the gharasham in the northern realms

they are really really hard (or impossible, depending on canon) to kill. based on the books, you basically need to disintegrate them. based on the games, only higher vampires can kill other higher vampires, but humans can get close

we only meet one in the books, emiel regis rohellec terzieff-godefroy. he goes by regis for short. regis was an "alcoholic" in his youth, and has since abstained from blood or any other substance. he's incredibly old, by the end of twn season 1 he'd be 425 years old. as for regis' "special ability", he's just kind. he's an incredibly gentle and loving person. that's it. i love him.

merpeople

probably one you're already familiar with! merpeople are intelligent humanoids that inhabit the great sea. mermaids are notably gorgeous, having green hair and tails, and their scales are prized alchemy ingredients

sapkowski's mermaids can breathe above water, but the sun burns their skin so they don't stay at the surface for very long.

merpeople are incredibly powerful, they can summon krakens and the sea-dragon like race of vodyanoy respect their authority

they use their own language that's quite similar to hen llinge, but more lyrical sounding.

nymphs

nymphs are a humanoid race primarily based around nature. they have 5 subspecies, dryads (including hamadryads), leimoniad, naiad, nereid, and oread.

dryads, called eerie wives by humans and aen woedbeanna by elves, are the most prevalent, primarily living in the brokilon forest. some have human skin with olive undertones, but others are green. they usually have dark brown or green hair which is usually worn in dreadlocks (breaking my promise of not being overtly and annoyingly political in this series yet again - the dryads, especially in the netflix adaptation, are classic magical n*gress stereotypes. but more on that later.)

this is a lore-accurate one that i LOVE

dryads have incredibly strong connections with nature and magic, although it is really rare for a dryad to be a source. dryads are able to draw energy from trees, but rarely do because they don't want to hurt the trees. support dryads and take the bus.

all dryads are women. all of them. they make babies by basically luring men into the forest and doing the adult hokey pokey. also why dryads aren't really a fan of witchers, who don't make the baby butter (i am so sorry)

however, dryads can also turn a girl of another race into one of their own through the use of magic. the water of brokilon has some mutating quality that makes young girls forget their human past and physically turn into dryads, although it is less effective as the girls are older. the dryads tried to do this to ciri, but given that she's a source, nothing happened. generally, this process is done to girls who wander into brokilon, but some dryads will abduct peasants from outside the forest if they need more dryads.

here's twn dryads... yikes

this is where i think the whole racism thing becomes a bit too obvious. "uncivilized" women who live in the forest and have dreadlocks and abduct young girls from "civilized" areas?? in twn they leaned even further into this, having one of the two black women they cast be a dryad and replacing the usual bows and arrows with spears, a less sophisticated weapon. again, this series is about the lore, not the political implications of it, but it is important to keep in mind

dryads are excellent at archery, shooting anyone who comes within 80 metres of the forest. through their connection with nature, they have highly advanced medicine and use glowing fungi as a source of light.

hamadryads are a specific type of dryad that is incredibly connected with her tree. because of this connection they have exceptionally strong magical and healing capabilities, but will also go insane and die if their tree dies.

like merpeople, dryads use a more melodic dialect of hen llinge

leimoniads are a type of nymph that lived exclusively in meadows, but are practically extinct due to wars with humans

naiads, also called rusalki, are nymphs that live in lakes and rivers, although a few live with the dryads in brokilon. naiads are very similar to dryads, although they tend to have very light skin with very dark hair, webbed hands, and can dry out on land

naiads rarely speak common, live in small groups, and have highly developed telepathic abilities

nereids are nymphs that inhabit the great sea, often living closely with merpeople. they usually have blueish skin with either blue or white hair and have some telepathic abilities, though not to the extent of naiads.

oreads are nymphs of the mountains, which, like leimoniads, are nearly extinct due to human conquests.

succubi/incubi

succubi (female) and incubi (male) are creatures which look like incredibly attractive humans but with horns and goat legs. they seduce humans, first in dreams and then physically, using their prey's energy to sustain themselves, often to the point of the human's exhaustion or death

our man eskel has a soft spot for them...

sylvans

sylvans, another race we already met, are exceptionally rare. like, practically extinct. they live mainly in the woodlands of the northern realms and have goat-like faces with yellow eyes, horns, cloven hooves, and tails

my man torque is quite possibly one of the last sylvans on the continent

they are distantly related to elves, and the two races tend to coexist quite well

generally quite mischievous and merry, highly enjoying pranks and parties. they can use simple spells and are mainly herbivores

sylvans live around 100 years and are highly sought after by dryads for their... ahem... reproductive capabilities

unicorns

yep, we got unicorns! i fucking love unicorns and still kinda think they're real. camels are real and those lumpy fuckers are way weirder than a horse with a spike on its head.

anyways

unicorns are highly advanced beings, they can travel between worlds and use telepathy. they don't really like the "less advanced" races, mostly staying around to observe them. they have distinct societies led by a council of elders and tend to avoid evil

these unicorns are badasses

unicorns strongly despise the use of the force but encourage the power of destiny. in the context of pavetta's betrothal feast, a unicorn would not be happy with pavetta's little source hurricane thing, but would encourage geralt to follow the law of surprise

in of the witcher, unicorns are very important because of their world-hopping capabilities. the aen elle, unfortunately, realized this and began enslaving unicorns to help them plunder other worlds. this turned into a massive conflict between the unicorns and elves.

#the witcher #twn #witcher netflix #witcher lore #geralt of rivia #geralt x yennefer x jaskier #geraskier #yennefer x jaskier #wild hunt #yenskier #geraskefer #geralt x jaskier #yennefer of vengerberg #emiel regis rohellec terzieff godefroy #witcher 2 #tw3 #tw2 #lambert #eskel #kaer morhen #mine #gen tag #lore tag #haven't got a fucking queue

[fantasy2739]

Time to discuss magic in toa. This isn’t too spoilery but I’ve still tagged it as just in case.

So each wizard (or witch) has a different colour for their magic, which is great in fights and stuff but also I think give us a little insight into their character. Obvs this is head canon but I like a bit of colour theory and stuff so why not:

The Arcane Order-

The arcane order look like they represent primal forces. So Skrael is ice and a bit of wind (think Boreas), Bellroc is fire and Nari is nature.

Skrael Ice Blue: ice is symbolic of coldness, being aloof, mixed with the blue it can give off a childish nature (shown by him chuckling at Steve). It’s also associated with intensity and narcissism which I think is very fitting for Skrael. He’s a very intense ice mage.

Bellroc lava/flame red: fire is associated with hot bloodedness, a temper which Bellroc seems to have more of compared to the others. Red is the colour of danger, war and determination. Bellroc is the more upfront attacker. The engager and it shows in their magic.

Nari Forest Green: Forests are associated with nature but also spirtualism. Nari is quite unusual and as said in the show can feel all spirits. It reminds me a little of the swamp episode in atla. The colour is also associated with balance, which was something Nari wanted. She may feel that the decimation of humans creates an imbalance in terms of her spirituality. One association of forest green that I find interesting is persistence. And looking back over wizards. Nari is persistent in the persuit of her goals and her ideals. She keeps running from the order because she thinks they’re wrong.

The ‘good’ guys-

I get to be a bit more in depth with these guys since we’ve had them and explored them longer.

Claire violet: our new sorcerer in training. I quite like Claire. She’s been thematically purple for a while and it suits her quite a bit. Purples are famously associated with nobility (due to being an expensive dye to make), and in a sense Claire is nobility by the loosest terms. Her mother is a councilwoman, very important in Arcadia and would be a modern equivalent to nobility. She’s also powerful. Douxie and Morgana both consider Claire powerful in terms of magic but her inner strength is just as good. She leaves her home to go with Jim, perseveres when her brother goes missing and keeps fighting for the side of good. Violet is associated with ambition as well. Ambition in tv has become sort of a bad thing but Claire is ambitious, she does well in school, sets goals for herself and follows through to accomplish them. Brother in the Darklands? Okay I’m going to save him.

Morgana golden yellow: ah Morgana, our sort of redeemed sorceress. Credit where credit is due she really did just want peace. Ironically yellows are associated with happy emotions such as joy. Which would make sense if we’re thinking about the Morgana with Gwen. A joy for just the two of them. Gold obviously is associated with wealth and excess. She’s royalty, sister of the king. Of course she’s wealthy. But gold is also extravagance. And although Morgana doesn’t seem the type to attend vanity fairs and parties she does like her flashy magic. Conjuring in large numbers, appearing in flashes of light. Angor Rot. She indulges in her magic. An often overlooked association with gold is intellect. Morgana is extremely intelligent. She thinks things through, her plans last years. She managed to accomplish her goals through careful planning and had the intelligence to see where Arthur’s war was going.

Merlin lime green: Merlin is a character I feel conflicted about. He did care about people but those he cared about seemed to suffer terrible fates, not to mention how verbally abusive he is to Douxie. Similar to Nari, lime green is for nature and balance. Merlin does seem to have a respect for living things but it can be overridden by balance. Merlin works for the greater good and only the greater good. With the exception of choosing to save Douxie. Lime green is also associated with confidence which is Merlin. He’s confident in his plans and ideas. He doesn’t think he can get things wrong. Wizards don’t make mistakes indeed. Ironically greens are also associated with stability. Which in a sense yes he provided stability. Douxie got a home, Camelot is implied to be kept safe by his magic protecting the denzins, Arthur got a powerful sword to keep peace. Plus all the merlin is one of the most famous wizards ever. He’s someone people know they can go to to fix things. Even if he only wants to work for the greater good.

Douxie sky blue: my sweet summer child, too pure for this world. I love Douxie’s magic. The way he uses it is cool. Douxie gets creative with the way he uses spells and tools. Which strikes me as a very fun but also free way to use magic (traits associated with the sky). And Douxie seems to value freedom a fair bit. Like when he let the lady of the lake go just because it wasn’t right or when he tells Claire that her magic is her own. His blue is in many ways opposing to Skrael’s. The traits are truth, reliability and wisdom. Douxie is for the most part a pretty honest guy. He’s pulled some scams but he doesn’t withhold the truth about Jim, or blame others for the messes he makes. He’s very reliable, despite Merlin acting like he’s a bane on his life. Douxie encourages people, acts as support and does what he needs to. Wisdom is a little harder to pin on Douxie. I mean for 900 years old he’s intelligent but he doesn’t seem to have that sage wisdom I normal think about when someone says wise. But he is. He’s used all of his past experience and understanding to guide him. He does think things through to the point where he’s fully aware taking on two full powered wizards is going to kill him.

#toa wizards spoilers #toa wizards #toa #douxie #hisirdoux casperan #hisirdoux #merlin #toa merlin #toa morgana #morgana #arcane order #wizards #claire nunez #nari #bellroc #skrael

[sp00kworm]

If you aren't swamped with requests. Wolf x reader where other Yautja are trying to approach them but reader when they think Wolf isn't around? I have a soft spot for grumpy old guys. (Drack from Mass effect is one of my favorite grumps). Thank you ❤

A/N: He looks like a big grumpy RHINO that Drak. I’ve never played Mass Effect so I had to look him up. I love his very alien design. I hope this is enough grumpy Wolf juice for you!

Pairing: Wolf (AvP Requiem Pred) x Gender Neutral Reader

--

Respect, Pup

A Yautja tavern was similar to Earth. You looked at the large tables and chairs with curious eyes before the sheer amount of noise settled in. Yautja of all kinds were sat at tables, drinking from great jugs, laughing and hissing at one another in their own groups. The noise paused when Wolf pushed open the screen, stepping through the doorway with a click, beckoning you to follow at his side as all eyes turned on him. Hunters and craftsmen alike sat together, sharing drinks in the cooling night. The females turned their heads towards the door, sat in a large group towards the back, watching as Wolf walked towards the bar. He was perhaps the most notable male in attendance. Old and riddled with scars from hunts. He was easily the one they would hiss and spat over all night. But the real attention seemed to fall on you, the little ‘ooman stood by his side as he leaned over to order drinks and food, ignoring the lecherous gazes aimed at his back. You could hear them, uttering rumours between themselves, only thanks to the translator chip sat behind your ear, just under the skin.

 “Helmets off. You know the rules.” The barman clicked, placing two heavy tankards on the side, holding them until Wolf relinquished his helmet, exposing his scarred face and missing mandible, one blind eye glaring at the other male until his drinks were given to him.

“Good hunting, brother?” He asked, hissing an order to the kitchen in the back as Wolf took the dirnks.

“Something like that. What tables are free?” He hissed as you reached to take your own drink.

“Wherever you wish, brother. New bloods are sat at the front, maybe best to sit somewhere to the back, or you’ll be harassed all night.” The barman nodded, tendrils swinging as he moved to tend to the other patrons from the city night.

“Go. The table with others free. I do not want to deal with snivelling new bloods all night.” Wolf pushed you forwards with one hand, the other holding his drink as he sat down, mandibles flared at the staring youngsters who were sat by the windows in the front. You looked back and tried to ignore the multitude of wide eyes looking at you. Humans were not a common site still, even in the capital.

 “So, why are we here?” You asked Wolf quietly, “I’m guessing its not really just for leisure.”

Wolf observed you for a moment before replying, “A drink, that is all. You have not seen the city.” That was all he gave you, eyes watching the other Yautja around the both of you, judging, assessing and eyeing up which youngster would be the first to try his hand at besting him.

“It’s never just a drink with you, Wolf.” You teased, watching his blind eye twitch in irritation of the teasing, his black spines puffing as he shook his head.

“Just a drink.” He emphasised again, pouring a great glug of the Yautja drink into his mouth, mouth parts flexing before he swallowed and scrunched his face up, top mandibles stretched in upset, “Still tastes like shit, even after fifty years.”

You sniffed at the beverage before taking a sip and humming, “Tastes like wine? But tropical. Weird.” Wolf rolled his eyes at your commentary, still sipping his own drink despite his apparent distaste for it.

 His wrist communicator buzzed violently, chirping as something new was transmitted to him. He peered at the males before standing, “Stay here.” He brushed his hand over your shoulder as he left, purposely moving through the crowd of new bloods around tables as he moved back outside to take a call, and to look at the new coordinates he had been sent. As he left, the silence was broken, and the younger males started up most of their loud conversations again. You hummed to yourself, sipping at far too large drink in front of you, looking at the Yautja artworks on the wall to entertain yourself until your grumpy Yautja returned.

“I didn’t think an Elder would enjoy keeping a pet around.” A green tinged Yautja loomed over you, clutching his own drink as brown eyes looked you over, “Wolf did not seem the sort.”

A sandy coloured Yautja followed him, his eyes a light orange, tendrils tied back in a tight knot behind his head, “Even Elders have to have their fun…It seems ‘oomans are his.” The tone made you frown as an ash coloured male sidled up by you, his mandibles tapping curiously.

“’Ooman’s are soft in more ways than one.” He purred, claws inspecting the heavy jacket Wolf had wrapped you up in before you both left. It was some form of thick goat skin, definitely not native to Earth.

 The three of them crowded closer.

“Where are you from?” The sandy male asked, leaning over the back of your chair.

“Earth I assume?” The green male chortled with the ash coloured one before going quiet.

“Yes, but where? Are all of you as soft looking?” The sandy one continued, ignorant to his friends’ silence.

“Where is none of your business, Pup.” Wolf growled behind them, claws curling as he reached for the sand coloured male and took hold of his chest plate. He crunched the material before howling, mandibles spread wide, and throwing him back towards his friends. The male crashed through a table with a sickening crunch before Wolf was upon him again, tossing his head, claws bared as he reached into the rubble, shoving other youngsters as he went, gouging at the male’s shoulder before baring his blade.

“Respect is what you need to learn, Pup! Touch what isn’t yours again and I’ll carve your spine from your back.” He threw the male back against the floor, huffing and puffing, claws caked in blood, as the other two crawled back into their group, leaving you alone at the table once more.

 As they settled back down, Wolf grumbled and sat on the bench, claws reaching to pluck you from your seat by your coat before setting you on his thigh. He pulled your drink closer and wrapped one arm around you, claws covered in blood perched on the table as a reminder to the other young males sat in the corner. The females laughed by their own drinks, weapons set against the walls as they watched Wolf make a display of pushing his mandibles against you, patting and tugging at hair as the new bloods dared not to look on.

“Was that necessary?” You asked with a huff, leaning back against the male’s chest as you took a long drink.

“New bloods are too bold. It’ll teach them a valuable lesson.” Wolf snorted, legs spread as he held you tight.

“Oh, and what’s that?”

“Don’t touch what doesn’t belong to you.”

You only laughed and continued to drink your tropical flavoured alcohol.

#yautja x reader #predator x reader #male yautja x reader #male predator x reader #wolf predator x reader #wolf x reader #wolf yautja x reader #predator #yautja #predator 1987 #avp #alien vs predator #alien vs predator requiem #predators #the predator #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #gender neutral reader

[wolfish-trickster]

Lost traveler

1/?

Loki x female!reader

Word count: 1590

Tag list: @gaitwae @lucywrites02 @hard-to-be-the-bard @birdgirl90 @laramoonworld

Summary: A mysterious traveler visits Asgard and thanks to an accident has to stay for longer than she expected. Bonds are created but also shattered along the way.

A/N: reader has elemental powers, something like avatar the last airbender.

Being a traveler had its pros and cons. Pros: you learn a lot about different realms and make a lot of friends along the way. Cons: you don't have a home, all the friends you make you either never see again or they don't remember you when you visit their planet, and you are alone. 100% of your time. None of the people or creatures you meet want to travel with you. You don't make a big deal out of it, you never did. You liked your privacy and alone time. Even if it hurts you sometimes.

You had your amulet though. A black stone in golden bracelet. Thanks to it you can create portals to travel. Sometimes it felt like the bracelet was pulsing with its own life. It was like a dear companion to you. You haven't taken it off in years, it became part of you. Sometimes it warmed your skin when you went to open a portal. That's how it was usually telling you where the best worlds to visit are. You were always excited when you felt the warmth under your bracelet. It meant it wanted to show you a beautiful part of galaxy you haven't been to yet.

Like now. You were making your way through foggy swamp, looking for a rare plant to study. As you jumped over fallen tree you felt your amulet warming your forearm.

"In a minute buddy, I really need this flower," you said a little too fast. You really needed that plant, but exploring a new world after weeks spent here was just too tempting.

However the stone was stubborn. The warmth escalated into burning. "Argh! Alright, I get it! I'm going, see?" your hand started to draw circles and symbols on the ground in front of you. Your other hand pulled the darkness from your stone, making it light yellow temporarily. The darkness with blue highlits seeped into the ground and teared the air before you, creating a small crevice.

Like an opened window it showed forrest. Nothing too unusual. Some oak trees, grass, wild flower here and there. 'What are you up to my friend?' you thought to yourself as you walked through the crevice. It immediately closed after ypu passed, leaving you alone in a new world.

First rule when you come into new place: find water. Fairly easy. Sound of water was near, a creek maybe? After you filled your bottle you started walking north, looking for any hills or mountains to climb onto and get better view of this realm.

Suddenly a storm like sound broke through the peaceful silence. You looked towards the sky to find clear blue. No dark grey clouds. So why was it roaring as if a thunder was starting? And there was the sound again, from the same spot as before.

You pulled your black leather hood over your head and slowly started to approach the thundering place.

"Thor! Can you stop doing that for at least 5 minutes?!" a voice came from your right.

"And why should I?" came a strong voice from in front of you.

"Because I'm trying to think, which is thanks to you nearly impossible!"

"Unlike you, dear brother, I have mighty powers that need to be controlled. How better than testing how far I can go?"

"That doesn't even make sense."

So brothers. And one of them is lightning thrower. Maybe the one named Thor.

"I don't have enough nerves for this," the Not Thor started to walk further right, away from lightning thrower.

It seemed wiser to aproach the calmer one. You already had the honor to meet a lightning thrower before, never again. Even though this other man could be even more dangerous than his brother. Decisions decisions. One could get you killed, the other even worse.

Eventually your legs started to take you to your right, after the calm one.

The man sat himself on a rock in front of a clear lake. He had black hairygreen and black clothes which looked to be made of leather with golden plates on forearms. He had his back turned to you, approaching him from behind would be stupid. You slowly walked around him, keeping yourself in trees' shadow.

You purposfully stepped on a dry branch to attract his attention. And fair enough, his head shot to you, dagger in hand, danger in eyes. You held your hands up to show you weren't armed and stepped into the light. "Hello," you greeted.

"Who are you?" he asked rather harshly. You're used to people being affraid of you, the cloak made you look scary, especially with a hood on.

"I'm a traveler," you answered simply.

He eyed you suspiciously, hand holding a dagger was slowly lowering. "And what's your name little traveler?"

Just as you wanted to answer a jolt of pain striked you into your shoulder, electricity engulfed you and the last thing you saw was the mysterious man in green and black leather rushing to catch your falling body.

~~~

Mornings in Asgard are usually quiet and calm. This one however was far from it. Loki's older brother Thor finally got into age when he can produce and control lightnings. Well, he tries to. That's what woke young sorcerer. Thor breaking a pillar near his window on accident.

"Love, would you be so kind and take your brother far from anything he can destroy? You're skilled with your gifts, I'm more than sure you will teach him how to control his own," the queen of Asgard asked the still half asleep trickster at breakfast table to which he nodded without even thinking.

And that's how he got stuck with him for the whole day. Alone. They already walked through forrest near Glittertind mountain and currently were trying to find the perfect place for Thor to train.

They were getting deeper into The Great Oak Woods when Thor thought it would be great fun to destroy a tree or two.

Loki was looking at map of Asgard in his head, trying to look for the nearest quarry. The mental gymnastics he had to do to concentrate in such noise was olympic worthy.

"Thor!" his brother turned to him. "Can you stop doing that for at least 5 minutes?!"

Thor's fingers begin to sparkle, teasing Loki. "And why should I?"

Loki pinged the bridge of his nose. "Because I'm trying to think, which is thanks to you nearly impossible!"

"Unlike you, dear brother, I have mighty powers that need to be controlled. How better than testing how far I can go?" he smirked confidently, sparks were now flying uncontrollably from his hands.

"That doesn't even make sense," Loki shook his head and begun walking away from him. "I don't have enough nerves for this."

He found himself a nice rock near his favourite lake. Birds around were chirping in their nests, sparkly fish with colourful fins were chasing each other in the crystal clear lake. Loki could finally relax.

Until he heard a wooden crack coming from his side.

On an instinct he drew daggers and turned towards a danger. Which turned out to be a girl. Bout in Loki's age. Knee high black boots covered by drying mud, dark green trousers and brown leather jacket hidden under black cloak which covered her hair as well. Sparkly curious eyes bore into his as she held up her hands in surrender.

He was more than sure he has never seen her before. She's a stranger.

"Hello," her melodic voice greeted.

"Who are you?" that wasn't probably the nicest thing to say to a newbie but Loki was trained to never trust a stranger.

"I'm a traveler," he expected a name, this answer sparked curiosity inside of him. She sparked a curiosity inside of him.

"And what's your name little traveler?" he started to lower his daggers, she didn't seem like a threat.

She opened her mouth but her face got twisted by pain as lightning struck her side. He quickly rushed, catching her before her head could collide with a rock.

"There, who needs training? One clear shot at first try!" a familiar booming voice came from Loki's left.

"You oaf, you nearly killed her!" Loki yelled at him.

"Her? I simply struck a moose."

Loki gathered her body into his arms and showed her face to his brother. "Does this look like a moose?"

Thor looked down at her, visibly paling. His hand started scratching the back of his head nervously. "Damn. Who is she? Did you know her?"

Loki shook his head and started to walk towards palace. "She said she's a traveler. Look at her clothes. No one on Asgard wears such fashion. Not to say a girl from Asgard would ever wear this," he gestured to her cloak which looked like a snake skin rather than an ordinary leather.

"Where are you taking her?" Thor trailed behind him.

"To fields, she'll make an excelent scarecrow," sarcasm was dripping from every word he said.

The older prince chuckled. "You and your jokes... What will we do with her when healers take care of her?"

"We? I'm not going to do anything with her, but YOU are going to apologize."

None of the princes noticed the white cracks looking like lightning bolts on the traveler's amulet.

#loki #loki odinson #loki x reader #thor odinson #young loki #young thor

[futurewriter2000]

The One

A/N: I think this is the perfect time for me to write this request. 

REQUEST:Hi! Are your requests open? If they are can i request a james potter imagine where reader is very stressed over exams because she failed the last time so he gets worried over her etc. ? Thank you!

XX

James hadn’t seen you this pale in his whole life knowing you. He knew you were stressed, you get easily anxious because of your extensive over-thinking, over-analyzing and over-worrying. 

You told him two weeks before that you will be swamped with work. You told him to not be offended if you were not that around him. He understood, so seeing you a few times a week didn’t make him upset. He missed you but he knew you needed to concentrate on your exams, so he popped in ocassionally to check up on you. 

He gently knocked on the door and opened them slowly. He peeked and saw you already looking at him with confused, red eyes. “James?” you asked, grabbing your glasses from the bed and putting them on. 

You looked worse than he had thought. Your eyes sunk into the dark shadows around the, thin red veins in the white of them, reaching into the coloured iris. Your skin was pale and red, meaning you definetly scratched some of it subconsciously from the anxiety and stress. Your skin was pale. There was no colour on it, no shine, no smoothness. Your body was covered in oversized, comfortable clothing, your hair a definite mess. 

Yet you smiled to his appearance with serenity and joy. Somehow, despite all the heaviness your eyes had hold, they still twinkled a bit at the sight of him, which made his stomach do all sorts of things. 

He walked in with a tray and his imfamous cocky grin. “Evening my Love.” he closed the door behind with his foot. “I brought you some food.” 

You felt something churn in your stomach but it sickened you at the sight. Your stomach was delicate when it came to a big amount of stress. You couldn’t control it. As much as you tried to avoid stress, it was always there and your stomach made sure that you know it.

You pulled down the sleeves of your sweater and simpered. “Uh- thanks but I’m really not that hungry.” you moved the books from one part of the bed to another, making some space for your boyfriend. “Sorry for the mess.” you appologised, your voice a bit raspy and weak. 

James couldn’t bring himself to smile at this scene. He put the tray down in front of you; mashed potatoes, fried fish, greens and juice. There were pancakes with strawberries on the side. He looked at you worriedly. “You haven’t had a proper meal in days.” he glanced at your night stand, filled with water bottles, some empty, some half full. There were some half eaten cookies and a lot of wrapping papers. 

You brought your knees to your chins, deciding to ignore what he had said and just look at him and smile. He was so handsome. He had a nice dark tone to his skin, dakr hair and his eyes beautifully outmatched his other features. His hair was always spiked up after a few days but when he washed them, they fell flat on his forehead. He always smelled so nicely, a cologne you had bought him for his birthday last year. He used it constantly but never ran out of it. 

He knew what you were doing. You were adoring him with your eyes and he would just melt, as he did now. He felt a blush creep on his cheeks as your eyes kept wandering on his face, observing every cell of his body. He stood up and walked on the other side of the bed, scooting behind you and taking you into his arms. 

You leaned back, feeling such comfort and safety as warmth washed over you. Your eyes closed at the wonderful feeling, tears unwillingly falling down your cheeks. “I’m so tired, James.”

He kissed the side of your head, eyes squeezing shut at the way you called his name. It wasn’t just a call, it was a plea and he felt like you were telling him to save you. He squeezed you tightly and burried his nose into the crook of your neck, his lips brushing against your skin, causing goosebumps to appear all over. You smelled just the same as you always did, after coconut.  “I love you, (y/n).” he said softly, almost sorrowly. “But please eat something.” he continued but stopped as he had felt you breathe heavier in his arms. 

He looked at you and found you sleeping in his embrace. Your eyes were shut, some traces of tender tears from the corner of your eyes to the corner of your lips. You inhaled strongly but exhaled slowly. It was as if you were suffocating on air. 

He smiled as he saw you cling onto his left arm like a monkey, nuzzling your head into his shoulder and starting to pull light snores. Luckily, he could pull his wand with his dominant hand and remove all the books and the tray from your bed. He uncovered the sheets and covered both of you in it, scooting himself away and carefully tucking you, later himself as well, into the sheets. He scooped you into his embrace and pulled you close, his lips giving you gentle kisses on the back of your neck, your shoulder and your earlobe. 

He saw a pleased little smile on your lips as he did but you were already fast asleep. He let his hands reach to yours, his fingers intertwining with yours as he kept tabs on your pulse. 

He could feel it beating nicely but the pace was off. There would be a few fast heartbeats for five minutes or so, then a few slow ones for a longer period. 

He knew how important this was to you. Everybody had final exams but you had a bit more since you had failed two important exams before. The professors decided to split those two exams into three parts each with addition of a few more works. It was unfair but it was how the system worked. You didn’t complain, only grabbed your books and disappeared among them. 

In two weeks, you had changed completely. He didn’t see you in the mornings but when he did, you were too exhausted to see him. At first you put effort into your appearance but through every exam, you would just walk straight out of bed, take an exam, go back to your dorm, sleep a bit, study. 

He hadn’t seen you do anything you love. He hadn’t seen you go out for a walk, hang out with your friends, go to Hogsmeade with him or anything that would take you away from these exams for just a moment, letting your brains relax. You speech had gotten confusing as well. You kept talking but lost concentration quickly. Your tongue would twist and the wrong words came out or no words at all. 

You would drift away just as you did now. You withdrawn yourself into your den, surrounded by books, trying so hard to pass these exams but after each exam, he would see you grow weaker. 

He hasn’t seen you during breakfast, lunch or supper for a week and a half. Your friends told him that you had changed. You became grumpy, snappy and even moody. Sometimes they would just see you stare somewhere else, dazing out for a second or so but quickly coming back and grabbing the books in front of you. 

James was only worried. He just wanted these exams to be over so you would finally rest and come back to them.... to him. 

He kissed the back of your head and felt his hand squeeze as he did. He wanted to smile but he could feel you tense up. Your eyes were squeezed shut, your fingers squashing his inbetween he let out a small wail of pain. 

“(y/n).” he said softly, trying to remove his hand out of your grip. 

He felt you breathe quicker and heavier, the movement of your eyes going left and right under your eyelids. 

His heart sunk.

Panic overtook his senses. For a moment he just sat there, frozen and stoic, watching you shake and tense under his arms. When he gathered back his thoughts, he took you back into his arms, pulled you closer to him, took a hold of your hands, no matter how much you hurt him, he grit his teeth and suffered through the pain. He locked your moving legs with his, having you in a still position. You breathing was still the same as before, so he only put his chin on your shoulder and whispered. “Shh.... it’s okay. I’m here. I’m here.” he spoke tenderly, kissing your jaw. “You’re safe, just calm down.” he kept soothing you with his voice. 

You woke up, shaking in his arms and feeling your heart pump in your chest. “Ja-ames.” you stuttered. “What’s happening to me?” you said, scared to death. 

“It’s just an anxiety attack-” he felt your breathing enlarge but he quickly continued. “We had all had them. Just breathe through your nose and breathe out through your mouth. Calm down.” 

“I- I don’t know if I-”

“I’m here. You have nothing to be afraid of, okay?” he kissed your shoulder and pulled you in. 

You nodded, tears streaming down your cheeks. You had never felt like this. You had never felt like fear was over-rulling your life. You had never felt your body go so numb or your heart go so fast. Every breath you took wasn’t enough to fill your lungs. 

He started to hum into your shoulder, diverting your attention from your paranoid thoughts. You looved over your shoulder, finding him smiiling at you. “You know what song this is?” 

You shook your head. 

“ Our love is alive and so we begin...” he started to sing in a whisper at first, his voice only growing. “ Foolishly layin' our hearts on the table- stumblin in.”

You let out a laugh, hearing his gentle, deep voice continue. 

“ Our love is a flame burnin' within Now and then fire light will catch us, Stumblin' in “ he paused, rocking you a bit in his arms and nuzzling into you, chuckling. “Prepare yourself for this:  Wherever you go, whatever you do You know these reckless thoughts of mine Are followin' you “

“ I've fallen for you, whatever you do 'Cause baby you've shown me so many things That I never knew Whatever it takes, baby, I'll do it for you.” you continued, your voice a bit more softer and raspier. 

“You know the song?” he gasped in surprise and you giggled.

“You always sing it to me. Of course, I know the song.”

“Oh.” 

You turned around to face him, your hand reaching up to his cheek as you looked into his eyes, unaware how much your adoring gaze melted him away. You let the tip of your finger wander his chin and cheek, just watching him in adoration. “Thank you.” 

He simpered, kissing your forehead and bringing you in again. “I love you.” he said, feeling tears spike his eyes. “But I also find you very stupid when you don’t take care of yourself.” 

Your hands wrapped themselves around him and you replied. “I know. I’m sorry.” you mumbled. “That’s why I have you; to sober me up.”

He pulled away, cupping your face with his large hands and watching your with all his seriousness. “I’ll always have your back, you hear me? But if you scare me to death like this again, I’ll kill you.” he pulled you back into his embrace. 

You let out a soft giggle, throwing your leg around his torso, which you know he hated but secretly adored. “You just might be the one, James Potter.” you said and he let out a chuckle.

“I am the one. No doubt I’m marrying you one day.”

#james potter imagine #james #james potter x reader #james potter #marauders fanfiction #marauders era #marauder #the marauders #marauders ima

[oriorchids]

Naegiri Week - Day One - Sweet

So I haven’t been active in a while, nor have I written anything in a while. I hope this amends stuff a little. It’s one of the first things I’ve written on here that wasn’t Oumasai, but honestly, Naegiri is amazing.

Enjoy! @naegiriweek

The Lucky Candy Store on 145 Lane was a small, quiet place, yet bright amongst the dreary buildings at the sides. While the buildings around it were in hues of grey and browns, the candy store was painted a pastel green with pale yellow stripes. A sign with a clover hung over the door, and the windows were tinted gold. Inside, a short, brown-haired boy worked, a striped apron over a green hoodie. His name was Naegi Makoto, and he was currently missing two members of his staff.

While Makoto wasn’t the oldest one who worked there; that honor went to Komaeda Nagito, he was, in fact, the manager of this shop. However, that did put some pressure on him, including their current problem of being short-staffed. His sister, Komaru, had a date with someone. He vaguely remembered something about braided pigtails, and that she was a romance writer. Meanwhile, Komaeda was sick, and couldn’t make it. (Honestly, Makoto was glad he was taking a break. That man looked like he could be blown over by a light breeze, and he tended to over work himself.) So currently, Makoto was the only one in the shop.

It wasn’t as though this was too hard. Due to how gloomy this district was, he rarely got any visitors. Aside from the group of kids that came in every once in a while, the shop rarely got any customers. Makoto decided to clean the counter, again.

However, just as he was going to get the cleaning spray, the bell chimed a greeting. A young woman with lavender-coloured hair entered, wearing a dark, professional suit. It was, admittedly, a pretty strange sight in the bright candy shop, but Makoto had seen weirder. He smiled and waved. “Welcome!”

The woman blinked, before speaking. “Hello. Are you the owner of this establishment?”

“Ah, no.” Makoto looked away and laughed. “I’m the manager...we’re a little short on staff right now. My dad owns this place.”

“Oh.” She looked over to the candies on the shelves, before looking through them thoroughly. She kept them neat, at least.

Makoto tried not to stare, since that would be a little rude, but it was hard not to. She seemed pretty serious looking at all of these confections. Eventually, she picked out a bag of taffy and lollipops, and walked back. “I’d like these.”

“Sure!” The woman was staring at him, slightly. Makoto couldn’t help but notice her eyes, which were the colour of violets. The purple violets, that is. Not the blue ones. This person didn’t really seem the type to buy candies like this.

“That’s because they’re not for myself.” Huh? “They’re a gift. For a coworker. He wanted to give his nephew a present.”

“He did..? That’s sweet…” Makoto blinked. “Wait, how did you…”

“You said it out loud.” Makoto’s face flushed. Oh, this is embarrassing. “Anyways, I thought I could do him a favour, since he was swamped with work. How much are these?”

“Ah, umm...one sec.” Makoto took the bag of candies and scanned it. Oh, these were a little...expensive. “That’s thirty-one dollars...umm…”

Without a sound, the woman placed a couple of bills on the counter. Makoto checked the sweets out and gave them back to her. She took them and walked to the door.

“Wait, umm…” The woman turned back. “I’m Naegi Makoto. What’s your name?”

“Kirigiri Kyoko.” After those words, the woman—Kyoko, left. Makoto stared at the door for a few seconds, after she left. She was...something. And Makoto knew her name now. Not like it would really matter, since he wouldn’t see her again. Right?

Makoto’s heart fluttered at the thought.

—

Unlike the previous few days, the store was booming with customers. Makoto was pretty glad that everyone was here. They had also gotten a new hire; someone named Hinata Hajime. Komaeda seemed happy enough to see him. Makoto just watched.

For some reason, his mind went back to Kirigiri. Though it went back to maintaining the candy shop after a few seconds; he should focus.

Komaru looked over at the two of them and rolled her eyes before turning towards Makoto. “Sooo...how’re you doing?”

“Good!” Makoto looked away. Oh, people were lining up! He should help them.

“You look like you were thinking about someone…” Komaru smirked. “Thinking about that one girl?”

“What?” Makoto felt his face heat up. “No, nonono…”

Komaru laughed. “You were!”

“I should go help the customers!” Makoto would’ve walked off, but a chime at the door got his attention. “Oh, welcome…”

Kirigiri Kyoko entered through the door. Komaru looked at Makoto, smiled, and walked to the counter. “I’ve got the customers, so don’t worry.”

“Ah, umm…” Makoto looked over to Komaru. “Thanks?”

“Am I interrupting something?” Kirigiri crossed her arms. 

“No!”  Makoto waved his arms around. “We were just...umm...talking about stuff. Candy stuff! What can I do for you?”

“Oh, well…”

—

Kirigiri would visit the shop every few weeks, leaving with a bag of candy every time. Makoto found himself looking forward to her visits. (And getting teased by Komaru, and rarely Hinata and Komaeda.)

Makoto also found himself making chocolates in the store kitchen. Specifically, some salted dark chocolate truffles. (Kirigiri had said that she preferred savoury and bitter flavours to sweet.)

After Makoto wrapped them in a box, neat and tidy, he left for Kirigiri’s workplace. (She left a business card, smiling and saying he could visit.)

He stood outside the door, contemplating whether or not to give the chocolates to Kirigiri. Would she like them? Does she like chocolates? He eventually left the chocolates and a note at the door, before knocking on the door and leaving. After he got back to the shop, his phone started to ring. It was a call from Kirigiri. Probably about the chocolates. He picked up the phone, a little nervous. “Hello?”

.

.

“Oh, umm...yeah. I’m sorry...I probably shouldn’t have just left them there.”

.

.

Makoto’s face flushed. “Wait, you...you want to…”

.

.

“Okay...that sounds good. Yeah, I know that place.” .

.

“Alright, umm...okay. I’ll talk to you later?” After a moment, Makoto hung up.

It seemed he had a date.

#naegiri2020 #danganronpa #makoto naegi #kyoko kirigiri #komaru naegi #nagito komaeda #hajime hinata #shuichi saihara #naegiri #the last three characters are really only mentioned