#i am going to do it within ten feet of a member of the royal family

[legend-collection]

Am Fear Liath Mòr

Am Fear Liath Mòr is the name for a presence or creature which is said to haunt the summit and passes of Ben Macdui, the highest peak of the Cairngorms and the second highest peak in British Isles after Ben Nevis.

Pic by mlappas on deviantart

Although there have been many purported encounters with the Big Grey Man, few eyewitnesses have actually seen the creature. It is reported to be very thin and over ten feet tall, with dark skin and hair, long arms, and broad shoulders. Most often, the creature remains unseen in the fog of the mountain, with encounters limited to the sound of crunching gravel as it walks behind climbers and a general feeling of unease around the mountain. Tangible evidence of its existence is limited to a few photographs of unusual footprints, so the majority relies on the credibility of eyewitness encounters.

The figure has many similarities with the Brenin Llwyd (English: Grey King) of Welsh mythology, this figure is also semi-corporeal, silent and uses the mists as a cloak to prey on unwary travellers. Unlike the Am Fear Liath, Brenin Llwyd is found in mountainous locations across Wales, and is particularly noted to prey on children.

In 1925, J. Norman Collie gave the first recorded account of a Grey Man encounter. A noted hiker, professor, and member of the Royal Geographical Society, Collie recounted a terrifying experience he had as he hiked alone near the summit of Ben Macdui years earlier in 1891.

"I was returning from the cairn on the summit in a mist when I began to think I heard something else than merely the noise of my own footsteps. Every few steps I took I heard a crunch, and then another crunch, as if someone was walking after me but taking steps three or four times the length of my own. I said to myself, this is all nonsense. I listened and heard it again but could see nothing in the mist. As I walked on and the eerie crunch, crunch sounded behind me, I was seized with terror and took to my heels, staggering blindly among the boulders for four or five miles nearly down to Rothiemurchus Forest. Whatever you make of it, I do not know, but there is something very queer about the top of Ben Macdui and I will not go back there again."

Collie's account was reported in the local press, which started a debate between sceptics and believers within the community. Other climbers came forward with their own encounters, which they had previously been afraid to share. One climber, Hugh D. Welsh, said that he hiked the summit with his brother in 1904, where throughout the day and night they heard "slurring footsteps, as if someone was walking through water-saturated gravel." Both felt "frequently conscious of something near us, an eerie sense of apprehension."

In 1945, Pete Densham was participating in rescue work in the Cairngorm mountains during World War II. One day, he reported hearing strange noises, mist closing in on his location, and increasing pressure around his neck. He fled before seeing anything concrete. A friend of his, climber Richard Frere, wrote about his sense of "a Presence, utterly abstract but intensely real" on the mountain and heard "an intensely high singing note" a few years later in 1948. Frere also presented the encounter of another mutual friend, who wished to remain anonymous, while he camped on Ben Macdui. He reported waking up feeling an inescapable feeling of dread, and looked out of his tent to see a large figure with dark hair standing in front of the moon in silhouette.

In 1958, naturalist and mountaineer Alexander Tewnion published an article in The Scots magazine about an encounter with the Grey Man in 1943.

"I spent a 10-day leave climbing alone in the Cairngorms. One afternoon, just as I reached the summit cairn of Ben MacDhui, mist swirled across the Lairig Ghru and enveloped the mountain. The atmosphere became dark and oppressive, a fierce, bitter wind whisked among the boulders, and... an odd sound echoed through the mist – a loud footstep, it seemed. Then another, and another... A strange shape loomed up, receded, came charging at me! Without hesitation I whipped out the revolver and fired three times at the figure. When it still came on I turned and hared down the path, reaching Glen Derry in a time that I have never bettered. You may ask was it really the Fear Laith Mhor? Frankly, I think it was.

No photographs of the Big Grey Man have ever been taken. Photographer John A. Rennie supposedly found a series of footprints in Spey Valley, measuring 19 inches (48 centimetres) long and 14 inches (36 centimetres) wide. These were published in a book, but he later discovered that they were a natural phenomenon caused by rainfall eroding the snow.

#Am Fear Liath Mòr #scotland

[lancelotdeservedbetter]

same energy

#what an absolute madlad #where is magic banned? camelot #where am i gonna go? camelot #am i gonna do magic? publicly? with extremely transparent lies for excuses? you bet your sweet ass #and not only am i going to routinely perform capital offences #i am going to do it within ten feet of a member of the royal family #you know that royal family with the blood vendetta against all magic that one #i bully the kings son now and he pays me to do it #i have autographed my wanted poster several times. im seducing the kings knights. im drinking poison. im never going to die #bbc merlin

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Assassins

( Don’t forget to come see my on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord )

 The soft light of the morning dawn slowly filtered into the room through cracks between the lavish curtains. Streaks of light bounded off the polished gold detailing of the rooms furniture and made the room appear as if the very stars themselves had come to adorn themselves upon the walls. So bright were the reflections that it managed to find their way underneath several layers of bed sheets and directly into the face of ambassador Glifin.

Roused from his seemingly peaceful sleep Glifin slowly pushed off the sheets one by one and rolled to his feet. The loud thuds of his hooves touching the floor sent a shudder through the room as he stood and stretched out, his general grogginess slowly shaking off. With a loud yawn finally leaving his throat he rose and shambled over to his desk to begin his day’s work.

Tonight he was hosting a party honoring visiting royalty from his home world on Argon. The prince had decided he wanted to visit this miserable planet he had been stationed on, though why anyone would want to visit this world was beyond him.

Glifin’s posting on the human homeworld had been sold to him as a great honor but in reality it had been a means to keep him from continuing his political rise. On Argon he had been a senator whose mere whisper was enough to make generals and minor nobles quiver in fear. His star struck ascension didn’t go unnoticed however and just before he was to be elected into the office of Artock Supreme and reside over the entire senate the royal family had stepped in and given him the position of ambassador to humanity.

Within the spam of a solar month he was shipped off the throne world and sent to this backwater dump of a world; were he had to smile and feign sincerity to these miserable sacks of flesh all the while his political powerbase slowly began to crumble in the senate.

Now fully consumed by feelings of dread over his situation Glifin did not hear the sudden knock at the door. Only after several more knocks did Glifin look up from his paper work.

“Come in.”

The door slowly opened and Glifin’s aide Jafal walked in and bowed.

“My apologies for disturbing you at this early hour, but Mr. Robinson has arrived with your evening wear for tonight’s event.”

Glifin nodded and shuffled his papers back into his desk and locked it just as a new figure entered the room.

“Say what you want about Argonian fashion, but they do have such a wonderful sense of aesthetics when it comes to room decoration.”

A slim human emerged from the doorway pushing a small cart with a metal rod built in holding up two clothing bags.

“You have a problem with Argonian styles?” Glifin said as he rose to his feet and walked over to Robinson as he pulled out a tiny box device and casually threw it down on the floor. The moment of contact it sprung open and in an instance a large set of mirrors emerged from it giving an impressive view from all sides.

“Oh far be it for me to question ones culture, “ Robinson continued as he opened the first bag and stepped aside for Glifin to see the contents, “but some would consider the amount of dead mammals your people adorn on themselves to be a tad morbid.”

From the corner of his eye Glifin saw Jafal’s face redden from anger but with a motion from his ambassador kept his tongue still.

“I would find it surprising for a human to find anything morbid with the amount of toxins you willingly consume.”

Robinson flashed a brief smile and shrugged. “You do have me there; personally caffeine will most likely be the end of me one day, but we’re not here to talk about my eventual demise.”

“An end that will come much sooner if you continue to waste my time with idle chatter.”

Humanities incessant need for small talk and idle conversation was something Glifin had never come to terms with; and this human fashion designer was by far the worst example he had ever put up with. Part of him viewed it as a challenge to see how long he could endure before snapping the tiny man’s neck, and though such a moment would no doubt bring him great pleasure the other part of him realized that Robinsons work was well regarded among prominent members of society. Not just with other humans, but with other alien dignitaries who had embassies on the human homeworld. It had been surprisingly an ambassador from the Hive that had recommended the human’s services when it was suggested that Glifin update his style to match his new role.

Walking up to the first black bag that Robinson had opened Glifin inspected the wardrobe.

Inside was a finely trimmed suit of Rygonian Leaper fur of a dark blue with a sash of Haponi tongue and a dashing pair of pants metal grey Roller Worm hide.

It was custom in Argonian culture to wear the skin of that which you have killed, thus the outfit before him was a prime example Glifin’s traditions.

“A fine work indeed,” Glifin said as he ran his fingers across the material, feeling the roughness against his skin. “For a human” he finished as he turned and smirked at Robinson.

“With the effort it took to obtain the materials you requested I would say it is nothing less than an example a miracle performed before your very eyes.”

Glifin stopped his examination of the attire and looked at the human. “For a miracle you sound so…displeased with your work.”

Robinson crossed his arms for a moment and pouted as if considering his next words.

“My work is perfection, I can assure you, but a man in my trade is not just meant to listen to the specifications of their client but their intention as well.”

“And your point?” Glifin queried.

After a moment he outstretched his hand and casually gestured to the Argonian clothing. “Is this really the message you want to be sending?”

Glifin looked at the suit again then back at Robinson. “I don’t understand.”

“If you go to the event dressed like this it will send the message that you still value your traditions, but I worry that it shows a disconnect with your current situation; almost as if you are attempting to relive the past.”

“You would appear as an old war hero trapped in past glories that the other guests would acknowledge, but not make to engage in conversation.”

Glifin opened to rebuke the human but stopped himself as he pondered the man’s words. Robinson stepped forward to the other black case. “Now this,” Robinson said as he slowly pulled down the zipper revealing the contents, “this would make you not only the talk of the party, but would make you the talk of the after party all the way back to your homeworld were many people would no doubt be very much interested in your on goings.”

“Each piece has been designed by some of the most dangerous animals on this planet, and in some cases far more ravenous then anything back on your respectable homeworld.”

Robinson went about and pointed out the specific materials used one by one.

“The body is made from a powerful species that inhabits the various swamps and wetlands around the globe with jaws so powerful they could cut you in two with a single bite.”

“Each of the buttons along the coat are the fangs of the most poisonous reptilian creatures on the planet; each one capable of killing a human let alone an Argonia ten times over with a single drop of their venom.”

“Now the pants I am particularly proud of as they are the skin of the deadliest hunter of all the planets seas. They can smell fresh blood from miles away and commonly take on prey twice their size.”

Gliffin heard Robinson go through the list of creatures but his expression remained emotionless.

“Why would these creatures be any more interesting than my own worlds?”

Robinson smiled. “Because everyone from your world already knows about them and have hunted the same creatures for generations. Yet I would be so bold as to wager my humble shop that none of them have ever faced down the black eyed stare of a great white shark, nor wrestled the deadly crocodile demons of the swamps, and most certainly have been quick enough to pluck out the teeth of rattle snakes just as they lunge to strike.”

“Neither have I,” Gliffin said with a hint of disgust in his tone, “and you would make a liar out of me for saying so.”

“My dear ambassador, who but you could say what you do or don’t in your free time?”

Robinson leaned forward and whispered into Gliffin’s ear “I am no doubt sure many of your females would find the idea of a striking Argonian such as yourself sneaking off to go hunting the unknown for sport a rather attractive quality.”

Glifin looked at the new set of clothing and then back at the original set of traditional clothes. He went back and forth for several moments before finally settling his gaze on the traditional garments.

“Take these away.”

_______________________________________

The lights outside Robinson’s humble shop slowly went off one by one as he walked between the displays straightening out garments and folding tossed aside pieces customers had casually put aside when the door rang.

“I’m sorry but we are closed for the night.” Robinson said as he returned behind the counter with a stack of clothes.

The figure slowly approached the counter and took off their hat. Robinson looked up from the register to see the figure was a Rohanan; a species known for its gel like appearance yet could collect random bits and bobs to create a sudo skeleton and present themselves as humanoid.

“That’s alright,” the Rohanan said, “I am here to pay for a set I ordered for a….friend.”

“Then they are most fortunate to have a friend such as you then.”

Robinson’s smiling nature unnerved the Rohanan but nonetheless they placed a small envelope on the table and slid it across. Robinson placed a hand on it and tapped his fingers several times against the contents inside before opening it and spilling the credit chips on to the table.

“Is it satisfactory?” the Rohanan said, their nervousness building as the human finished counting the chips.

“Oh yes indeed; I believe you have paid in full for your order.” With a swipe of his hand the human pushed the chips back into the envelope and sealed it. “Always a pleasure to deal with such an honest and upstanding man such as yourself during such troubling times.”

Robinson leaned in towards the Rohanan, his expression shifting from smiling to one of mild concern. ���I heard there was a most unfortunate incident up at the Argonian embassy several nights ago.”

“Several guests including the visiting prince and ambassador himself all died from poisoning.” The Rohanan confirmed.

“How gruesome!” Robinson said as he recoiled in shock and finished putting away the remaining clothes while he talked over his shoulder.

The Rohanan regarded the human for a moment before continuing. “The strangest thing was that the poison was not native to this world, but is most common in the Hagar system under Dovorian rule.”

“A most embarrassing situation I am sure considering the Dovorian and Argonian people despise each other.”

“Indeed; one might wonder how such a toxin came into contact with them.”

Robinson shrugged and turned as he finished placing the final shirt back into the display. “With all of those fangs, bones, and animal skins I would not be surprised if someone grabbed a tooth or two that hadn’t been fully drained of its contents.”

The Rohanan laughed and placed their hat back on their head just as they stopped at the door.

“You were worth every penny, assassin.”

“An assassin you say?” Robinson’s smile returned and he casually waved to the departing customer “You must have me mistaken for someone else, as I am but a simple tailor.”

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #story #scifi #assassin

[screamingatanemptyroom]

Please Fix the Story pt 23 - Sci Fi

Here is the next part! There is at least one more part in this world. Getting really close to the end!

Masterpost Linked Here

Enjoy!

_______________________

Life moved on, and despite the growing anxiety I had after my encounter with Chris, things moved smoothly. Chris had disappeared after that night, leaving his resignation from the academy laying on his desk. Liam was busy with wedding plans, occasionally checking in to make sure I was happy with his choices.

He was honestly much more thoughtful about it than I would have been, and I was happy to have his help. My father arranged his leave and was on his way. We also heard from Liam’s parents that they were going to arrive soon as well.

When Liam received the news, he became perfectly still for a few moments. I watched him, concerned at the obvious change.

“Liam, are you okay?”

“I – I don’t know.” His eyes were unfocused, as if staring off into space. “Why… are they coming?”

“Because they’re your parents? I doubt they would miss the wedding of a royal family member, no matter how bad your relationship is.”

“Parents… it’s… all wrong.” Liam seemed to be struggling against some invisible bind. His dark blue eyes flickered, and seemed to almost glow in the shadow of the resting area we sat it.

WARNING. World destabilization detected. Attempting forced conformity… Failure… host and partner soul strength too high.

Unable to see the bright blue words hanging in the air, Liam continued speaking.

“This… isn’t right. I don’t have family." His face was becoming more certain. “It’s not my fate. All I have is…” He glanced at me, his eyes filled with pain. “Bel..?”

WARNING! Stabilize world story immediately or face destruction and mission failure.

I reached out quickly, holding Liam’s hands in my own. “Liam, take a deep breath. Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” He answered without hesitation.

“I know it seems wrong, but for now I need you to go with the idea of having parents and family.”

“But…?”

“Trust me. “

“Okay.” He leaned back, sighing. The glowing dark blue of his eyes faded, and he closed them for a brief moment, before seemingly returning back to normal. “I trust you.”

We don’t belong here.

The uncertainty in this world grew each day. Liam, whoever Chris had become… me… we weren’t from this world. But if we deviated to much, the world could destabilize, and I could fail the mission.

I just needed to keep my head down, blend in and complete the mission.

Try not to rebel too much against the role I’d been given in this world, except the ending.

Simple, right?

_______________________

…

“We’ve talked the last few hours about our lists, now it’s your turn! What do you miss most about Chris, Alaira?”

Maybe world destabilization, mission failure and soul destruction aren’t that bad after all.

I stared at the group of young women in front me, wondering for the hundredth time in the past hour how I had been roped into this... harem support group?

Allie, Ilene and Wen stared back at me, waiting for me to answer.

“I… miss kicking his butt in mock Mech battles?” I winced as I spoke, realizing they would probably take offense at that, but to my surprise they all smiled and nodded.

“Yeah, you were a very important rival to Chris.” Ilene patted me on the back.

Allie spoke up, “He was always talking about how he wanted to beat you and have you accept him as a fellow Guardian. “

“Yeah… he… I…” Wen started to chime in, but then her face crumpled as she sobbed into her hands. “What are we supposed to do now that he’s gone?! What am I supposed to do without him?! What if he never comes back?!”

“I miss him!”

“Me too!”

Soon all three girls were crying, leaving me in uncomfortable silence in the corner.

Blend in, don’t make waves, don’t try to change things….

“I can’t live without him!” Ilene’s dramatic cry broke something within me.

SCREW THIS!

“OKAY GUYS, SHUT UP!” I stood up, placing my hands on my hips as I stared at them. “You are a group of highly intelligent, talented women in the most competitive military academy in the known universe! And you’re nothing without some guy?”

“He’s not just some….” Wen started to interrupt, but was shushed by me.

“No. No matter how much you care for him. He is a guy, and you are all your own person. You have talents, dreams and stories beyond his existence.” I turned to petite girl beside me first. “You! Wen, you’re one of the top engineering students in the program! With your skills, it would be a cinch to improve upon the current Mech design!” After all, she had ramped up Chris’s Mech in the story, surely she could do the same without him!

“And you!” I pointed at Allie. “You’re a Guardian! You're a level B one at that! That's an even higher level than Chris!”

“But I don’t have his drive…”

“You can have his drive! You can have more than his drive! He spent half his time complaining about how people didn’t take him seriously or how people were trying to force him to be a Connector. You can be TEN TIMES the Guardian Chris was!”

I ignored her startled sputterings and turned towards the dark haired girl on the other side. “And you… Ilene.”

She stared at me warily. “What about me?”

“You’re a freaking Princess! And a super talented Connector! How can that become nothing if Chris isn’t around?”

“…I thought you didn’t like me?”

“I don’t.” I answered bluntly. “You treat your brother like trash, and that’s enough for me to want to kick your teeth in.” I sighed, leaning back in my chair. “That being said, just because I hate you doesn’t mean I don’t respect you as a talented Connector. You just have a crappy personality.”

“Um… Thanks?”

“Don’t mention it.” I opened my arms. “You three have top-notch talent all gathered here in one room. What do you need Chris for?! You could be a force to be reckoned with!”

Wen jumped to her feet. “You’re right! I should design a Mech, one stronger than anyone’s ever seen.!”

“Yes!” I pumped a hand in the air.

“And I’ll fly it! I’ll terrorize the Hive until they go running back to their home planet!” Allie stood up as well.

“You’ve got it!”

Ilene joined in. “If I remember, Allie, you and I have a decent resonance match. How about we partner up?”

“Let’s do it!”

The girls high-fived each other while I watched approvingly.

“Let’s destroy the hIve!

“We’ll save humanity!”

‘...And then we’ll find Chris!”

I groaned.

They were so close… but I guess this is better than nothing.

The girls plotted the formation of a new team, surprisingly accepting the team name “Harem” (my suggestion). As they filed out, chattering excitedly, I prepared to escape this mentally exhausting group.

“Alaira, wait.” Princess Ilene stopped me before I could walk out the door.

“What is it?” I kept a neutral expression. I hadn’t been joking when I said I didn’t like her.

She hesitated. “Are you really marrying my brother?”

“Yes. Do you have a problem with that?”

“…No… it’s just…” She rubbed her face. “He’s… different. And I feel like you should know. “

Sitting back down, I crossed my legs and prepared to listen.

“Since he met you… William is a different person. He’s kinder… gentler… even goes by a different name. He’s never gone by Liam.”

That caught my attention “What was he like before?”

“Angry. Vicious. Hurt people just to watch them suffer.” Her face was blank, as if remembering things she didn’t want to. “He was so mad at the world for not allowing him to match, he spent all his time plotting to take down talented people who could.”

A villain. Was that who he was before Liam stepped in? Like how Alaira was before I took over? Or Chris before… whoever it was… took his body?

“I’m not pretending that I’m perfect, either. You’re right, I treated my brother like garbage, instead of trying to help him. I thought he was a monster. Honestly, I thought his hanging around you was some new scheme…. I was kind of hoping he would take you out so your couldn’t bother Chris…”

“So nice of you.” My tone was sarcastic

“At least I’m honest. Anyways, this doesn’t appear to be some trick… I think he’s changed… he actually seems to care about you. But I thought you should know who he was before he met you.”

“Thanks.” My tone was slightly better than before. “Don’t worry, I know exactly who I’m marrying.”

Liam. Not your villain brother.

“Good Luck.” Ilene seemed relieved, as if a burden was off of her shoulders with the confession, and hurried out.

I stood in the room alone silently for a few moments, processing.

There’s too many questions, and no answers in sight.

I left to find Liam. I missed him.

_______________________

I arrived just in time to see Liam and Alaira’s father facing off.

“She is my precious daughter.” The tall middle aged man with close cropped hair and a scowl made scarier by the scar running from his left eye to the corner of his mouth, towered over Liam. His disapproving air was evident.

“Yes.” Liam smiled and nodded, seemingly fearless.

“No man deserves to marry her.”

“Agreed.”

“So who do you think you are?” General Gladus poked Liam’s chest with a finger.

“The luckiest man alive to be able to stand in the same room as Alaira, much less stay by her side all my life.” He held out a plate in front of the angry man. “Cookies?”

“Well, you should know I don’t approve of this fast courtship…” He picked up one of the cookies and bit into it angrily. “You both are so young…” He took another bite. “And I don’t want you to hold her back…”

“I completely agree. I will do my best to support all her goals in life.” Liam handed the general another cookie as he finished the first.

“Good…” He chewed slower. “Is this chocolate? How did you get it so soft but chewy at the same time?”

“I developed the recipe. Would you like more?”

He picked up another one. “Just know this doesn’t mean I fully approve of you.”

“Of course not… Would you like some cake…”

“….”

“I also have homemade hot chocolate.”

“… As long as she likes you, I guess.” He finally muttered, his hands full of baked treats and dessert drinks.

Liam overwhelmed him with support spouse abilities. I laughed in the doorway, attracting the attention of both men.

“Anything for me?”

Liam nodded with a bright smile. “I saved you a plate.”

General Gladus cleared his throat as he saw the large platter filled with cookies.

“Don’t worry, Sir, I saved an extra plate for you.”

“… Don’t think you can bribe me.”

I raised an eyebrow. “So I can have your plate, then?”

“The hardened general clutched the plate of cookies to his chest. “Don’t you dare! The boy made them for me out of respect for his future father-in-law!”

“…” Liam and I smiled at each other.

“How is the front line… Dad?” The title felt a little rough as I spoke it. I was still acutely aware that he was Alaira’s father, not mine.

“Stable, for now.” He frowned. “Fortunately we have an elaborate defense system, to give plenty of warning. But they’ve been retreating more and more lately. The higher ups seem to think that they might be admitting defeat, but I just don’t think so. I think they’re preparing for something… big.”

He’s right.

I knew the ending of the original story. Around the time Alaira was supposed to graduate, they had attacked in the largest numbers ever seen, necessitating all senior students being recruited to help fight. Even Alaira, who was without a Connector and would have normally been left behind was brought in. They couldn’t afford to leave any powerful guardian out.

I still have a little more time, though. I can train with Liam, maybe get Wen to help upgrade our Mechs, train up some of the students… We can have a chance to really face off against the attack.

There’s still time…

“Don’t let down your guard. You’re the best general we’ve got.” I patted Alaira’s father on the shoulder.

He crushed me in a big hug. “Don’t worry, your dad will protect the galaxy! You just get married in peace.” He leaned in and whispered. “See if he can make a few more of those chocolate cookies, okay?”

“I will, Dad.” It came much more naturally this time.

I’ll protect you too. I added silently.

_______________________

As the wedding drew closer, we were notified that the king and queen were on their way. Liam ignored the news, continuing to work on seating charts and music for the ceremony.

“We have to welcome them when they arrive. They are due any minute.” I finally spoke up, slightly exasperated with his head-in-the-sand act.

“…If we have to.” His voice was cold, his dark blue eyes flickering between fear and annoyance.

I held his hand. “Don’t worry. No matter who they think you are, or what they say about you, just know that you’re my future husband. Don’t worry about anything else.”

He reached out, pulling me tightly against him. “ Thank you.”

“Just play along with them. I held his face between my hands. “You’re Liam. Not Prince William. Not their son. Not Ilene’s brother. Liam.”

WARNING. DIRECTLY CONTRADICTING STORYLINES IS FORBIDDEN.

Liam tilted his head and studied me with a worried expression. “… Are you okay?”

“Just follow my lead. Please.” I looked away from the bright blue words in annoyance and moved.

We went to meet the Royal Family, each of us nervous for different reasons.

The King and Queen looked slightly like Liam and Ilene. The king had curly dark hair, severe features, made worse by the frown as he studied Liam. The Queen had the dark blue eyes that both siblings had, and a beautiful, delicate face… but the overall sense was ruined by the terrified light in her eyes as she almost hid behind her husband.

“So this is the girl you tricked into marrying you?” The king looked at me with morbid curiosity.

Liam took a deep breath. “This is Alaira, Grade S Guardian, my resonance partner and my future wife…”

“What game are you playing, William?” His father snapped, interrupting him. “If this is some ploy to ruin General Gladus, you should stop now.”

“This isn’t…”

“You should stop this now.” The Queen squeaked out nervously at me from behind the King. “He might be my son, but you can’t trust him…”

“…”

“This wedding is a farce.” The king snapped finally. “He’s a monster.”

_______________________

“Why did you follow me?” the mournful voice called out as I entered the dark room.

“Do you want me to leave?” I looked up at the large dark blue eyes curiously, barely able to make out the large form in the darkness.

“I didn’t want you to see… didn’t want you to know…”

“Know what?”

“That I’m a monster.” The whisper was filled with so much pain it made me cry.

_______________________

BAM!

Before I fully came out of the memory, I had punched the King.

“…”

There was a moment of stunned silence from everyone present.

“You dare…!” The King finally spoke up, rubbing his red cheek with a furious expression. “I can have you executed!”

“Just try, Barry.” General Gladus walked in, his hand holding a drawn weapon. “I’ll shoot you in your precious Royal Ass, and then what are you going to lounge on while I fight your wars for you?”

"..."

"..."

"..."

The room processed his words in silence for a moment, before the king burst out angrily.

“Gladus, are you threatening me?!!”

“Oh shut up Barry. " He waved dismissively with his gun. "It wouldn’t even be the first time I’ve shot you. Probably won't be the last." You won’t arrest me, you need me to protect your country.”

“You are willing to let your precious daughter marry this… this… “ The king trailed off, glaring at Liam, who stared calmly back.

“Yes.” General Gladus shrugged “I heard the rumors. Even with the 100% match I wasn’t about to let him hurt my daughter.”

“Then why…?”

“I’ve sat down with your son, Barry. I shook his hand, looked him in the eye. I asked him the hard questions. I’ve observed him around Alaira.” The General stepped forward, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder. “I know a good man when I see one. And I see one. One who loves my daughter. Maybe you should try looking closer.”

“But he…”

“Plus he makes delicious cookies.” He muttered.

“…He what?”

I stepped forward, blocking Liam behind me. “He’s not a monster. He’s my future husband. I honestly do not care about your opinion. But if you want to try to hurt him, just know… you won’t have to wait for my father to shoot you. I’ll do it first.”

“… Control your child, Gladus.”

“She even threatens you just like me!” He reached out and placed an arm around my shoulders. “So proud.”

“…Fine. “ The King frowned “I won’t try to save you from yourself. Marry him, if you want.”

“I plan to.”

“Whatever you’re plotting, William, you better stop now.” He glared. “You might have fooled them, but you won’t fool me.”

“I don’t have to fool you.” Liam’s eyes were dark. “You mean nothing to me.”

“I’m your father.”

“I have no family. I… I can never have family.” Liam turned away.

“William…” The Queen called out softly.

“I AM NOT William.”

WARNING. World Destabilization detected!

“Come on, Liam. Let’s go.” I grabbed his hand and walked away, calling over my shoulder as we left. “You’re free to attend the wedding, but stay away from us otherwise.”

“You’ll regret this!”

I laughed at his bitter words. “Enjoy the disappointment.”

Liam and I left.

_______________________

We sat in my room, and as soon as my hand left his, he curled up, holding his arms over his head.

“I don’t feel right.”

“Liam.” I reached out and touched his back, feeling him trembling beneath me.

“Who am I? I don’t think I’m William. The things they said… the things William has done… He’s not me.”

Warning!

"He's not me... he can't be... He's not..."

WARNING! World destabilization... Bright blue words and a mechanical voice appeared again.

“SHUT UP!” I yelled, drowning out the voice. I pulled his arms down, looking straight into his dark blue eyes. “You are Liam. And you’re my partner. And tomorrow you’ll be my husband. Nothing else matters..”

“But…”

“I can’t explain things right now. I don’t even know everything right now. But I know there’s a reason we’re here together. I’ve found you, and I won’t leave you.”

He held me close, both of us kneeling on the floor. He was clutching me as if I was the only thing anchoring him. I felt lost myself. I was frustrated at my lack of answers, angry at the pain Liam was experiencing, afraid for the future ahead of us.

“Alaira… no… Bel?” He whispered. “... I love you.”

I smiled at the unfamiliar but familiar name, pressing my face against his shoulder. “I love you too, Liam.”

“Marry me tomorrow.”

“Definitely.”

“Don’t leave me behind… please.”

“I won't... No matter what.”

A long silence fell between us. Finally Liam sat back, his face slightly red. “I wish we were getting married tonight. I can’t help but feel something terrible is going to happen to prevent our wedding.”

Foreshadowing.

Ignoring the ominous word that appeared in my subconscious, I smiled reassuringly. “Nothing is going to happen…”

“ALERT! CODE LEVEL RED. PLEASE REPORT TO EMERGENCY STATIONS. ALERT!”

I sighed. “I take that back.”

We headed to the Command Level in the main Academy.

_______________________

“Dad, what’s going on?” I called out as we passed the main doors.

“Alaira…” General Gladus’ face was uncharacteristically serious. “It’s not good.”

I stood beside him, looking up at the large holographic display at the center of the command room, feeling the blood drain from my face. “The Hive.”

“They’re past our defense systems.” He slammed his fist against the table. “This doesn’t make any sense! How did an army this huge get past us without starting any alarms!”

I stared at the countless red dots on the screen, feeling lost.

This isn’t right. In the story I should have had YEARS before the Hive attacked in such large numbers. Even then they were caught immediately in the defense systems and gave the military time to prepare. How could they get past us… unless…

“Chris.”

He said he was going to end everything. Is this what he meant?

Alaira’s father was confused. “That male student who disappeared? How would he have access to defense system information?”

Chris wouldn’t… but whoever was controlling Chris might have more information.

I let it go for now. “What do we do?”

“There’s too many… and they’re headed for a defenseless planet in this system.” He hung his head. “I don’t have the manpower to defend it.”

I stepped forward, giving him a grim smile. “You’re not alone, Dad. I’ll help.”

“We! We’ll help.” Liam stood beside me. “We’re a powerful combo. You can’t afford to turn us down.”

General Gladus sighed. “Even if I recruit top senior students from the academy… the numbers we have… it’s a suicide mission.”

Warning! Mission Failure Imminent!

Your mission: Prevent destruction of the human race by the alien monster race known as The Hive.

The Hive are now attacking in large numbers. Your estimated chance of success against them in battle is 0%.

“If you’re not gonna say anything helpful, then shut up.” I growled quietly.

Liam turned towards me. “Are you okay?”

If you fail your mission, you will face soul destruction.

“It’s not like I’m swimming in options.”

You have one option.

“Who are you talking to?”

“What is it?” I whispered, holding Liam’s hand and squeezing it. I have to save him.

...

ACCEPT YOUR FATE.

...

I stared at the blue words silently for a few minutes. “Liam, what if I said we have an 100% chance of dying if we went on this mission…”

“You don’t know that…”

“...and I had a fool proof way to protect you… But we would be separated forever?”

I didn’t know what my fate was. But I did know in the deepest part of my soul one thing:

Liam was not my fate.

“I don’t plan to survive this, Liam… but if I could save you…”

“I would rather die by your side.” He didn’t hesitate.

“But…”

He grabbed my other hand, holding them both tightly. “We’ll face this together.”

_______________________

“It’s hopeless.” I whispered, holding him tightly. “What if fate is stronger than us?”

“I don’t need hope, Bel.” He leaned closer, his breath warm against my neck. “If fate is going to separate us, then we’ll destroy it.”

“Together.”

“Always.”

_______________________

I looked at the hologram, at the countless numbers of enemies that awaited us, and leaned against him with a sigh.

“Together.”

He smiled in return.

“Always.”

#writing #please fix the story #fantasy #world hopping #amnesia #the world is breaking #Getting close to the end.

[jasontoddiefor]

Title: would you be so kind Ship: obikin Second: Ten years ago, Obi-Wan Kenobi met Anakin Skywalker, a charming young mage from Naboo, but as fate willed, they could not be together. A decade and thousands dead later, Alderaan’s High Court Sorcerer meets a Forger and his excited apprentice. AN: I forgot to post this on tumblr apparently, but here’s the first chapter of my second long WIP I am working on!

Then

The ship was crammed, filled to the brim with people clinging to one another, staring either at the home they’d lost or the home they hoped to be sailing to. Hundreds of ships had left Dromund Kaas already, carrying refugees across the ocean to safer harbors. The tension was high and sharp enough to cut as they sailed away from the doomed country and only relaxed when the pressure of the country’s shields finally left their shoulders.

“An awful sight, isn’t it?”

Anakin startled, instinctually pulled his coat around himself. Were he in a better shape, he would have lashed out immediately, winds, bindings, blood—

But the power flowing through his veins was too constricted, caged like a wild beast. Instead, Anakin just turned to look at the person who’d addressed him. An old woman with snow-white markings and long lekku stared at the dying country just as he had moments before, grief and resignation painting a sorrowful picture. “I never thought I’d leave this place. Did you?”

Wordlessly, Anakin shook his head. No, he certainly hadn’t thought he’d ever leave this place again. He’d been ready to be buried under the ashes of marble altars, not see this new dawn.

“I was born here, married too. All my children were born within the boundaries of this country and perhaps that is the reason they all left,” the woman continued. “I am glad that they weren’t here. If I think about what could have happened to them were they anywhere near the capital… I apologize; I hope you don’t mind my rambling. You looked like you needed company. Are you traveling to Naboo?”

He opened his mouth to reply, to give an affirmation, but stopped. He hadn’t quite thought where he’d go, except as far away from this place as he could. Naboo was certainly an option; Padmé would be glad to see him, he was sure. She’d take him in without asking a single question and defend him against the storms that were sure to come.

But Padmé was his friend and Anakin couldn’t allow her to shoulder his burden.

“No,” Anakin heard himself saying. “I’m not traveling to Naboo.”

“They are quite defenseless right now, yes, you are right. The fact that it’s the first stop of this ship is tempting enough for most to disregard what troubles might find them there.” The woman nodded in understanding. “I’ll be going to Alderaan myself. My eldest lives there, and in a country as strong as that, a tragedy like this can’t strike.”

She turned to look at the remains of Dromund Kaas again. The coastline used to be covered by beautiful large trees; his Master used to tell him how vital they were for its defense.

Now there was nothing but ash and darkness. Even here on the outskirts, where it had taken the longest for the remains of the catastrophe to reach, nobody was safe from it. Dromund Kaas had been in a pitiful state after the last war, which had made it an easy place to hideaway in. Alderaan might be stronger, the blooming center of magical education, but Anakin doubted they’d be able to defend against an attack like this. Nothing could save them from an attack such as this.

But Alderaan’s distance to this cesspit of disease was enough to provide a different kind of security.

Thousands of refugees would search for safety there, and Queen Breha was as cunning as she was kind. No one would be turned away and Anakin could slip in just right with them.

“I’m going to Alderaan as well,” Anakin replied.

The woman looked him over, then she beamed as if she were a young child and not already among the older members of her species.

Her smile was the first Anakin had seen in weeks. “Looks like we’ll be traveling companions then! You must tell me your name, young friend. I’m Raya Tano.”

She held out her hand and Anakin awkwardly shook it with his own left.

“My name is—”

Now

“Anakin Skywalker! Your automaton is ruining my kitchen!”

Sighing, Anakin let the spell sink back into the metal and settle into it. So much for working on his commissions today. A quick glance around the workshop told him that it was not one of his automatons running wild. Artoo was currently charging up and Threepio was keeping himself busy cleaning up. All the other small automatons Anakin crafted when he was bored were either asleep and charging or hurrying around the workshop, washing up the floors and putting away the tools Anakin had been using.

Anakin tugged off his gloves and threw them to a tiny and eager little automaton before picking up his softer everyday gloves. The leather was still quite resistant and had more runes stitched into it than most people dared to weave into one cloth, but they were nowhere near as excellently crafted as his work gloves. The dragonhide gloves were worth a fortune and so they never left his workshop unless Anakin had to. Anakin watched the little automaton put the gloves in their usual compartment until he could hear the click reassuring that the lock was in place. At first, that had only been a measure against thieves as he hadn’t had much to his name, but by now, it was a habit.

And it discouraged Ahsoka from stealing them for her own projects.

Anakin walked out of his workshop and crossed the courtyard to the small cottage he called his home, finding a kitchen in disarray, Raya standing on a chair with a small red automaton attempting to clean the floors.

“Look what a mess it’s making!” Raya said accusingly. “Instead of polishing my floors, it’s dirtying them!”

“I can see that,” Anakin hummed. He waited until the small automaton had reached his feet, then he bent down and pressed his hand flat on its small back, stopping it. Ahsoka’s handiwork was getting better; this little guy had kept moving for a while despite her absence. Anakin had no idea what the formal apprenticeship for forgers entailed, when they ought to hit what milestone, but he was willing to bet that Ahsoka was years ahead of her peers. Her spells were strong, her rune work fantastic, and very few actual weaknesses were left to explore in her automatons.

But Anakin was still a Master and Ahsoka only an Apprentice. Her work was not yet good enough to keep out foreign interference. Without much thought, he deactivated the automaton completely.

“This was your granddaughter’s handiwork,” Anakin commented. “She’s improving in leaps and bounds.”

Raya huffed and stepped from her chair. “I’m glad to hear that, but weren’t you meant to teach her control?”

“I am,” Anakin said, the argument an old and fond one. They returned to it frequently, mostly to annoy the young Apprentice. “And were she still as much of a mess as three years ago, she hardly would be able to craft such a fine automaton. Can’t do anything about her manners.”

Especially since she’d become a teenager. Anakin didn’t remember being as much of a pain as Ahsoka could be.

“And here I was thinking Masters were supposed to teach their Apprentices a medium of decorum.”

Anakin snorted. “Yeah, well, that’s what she has you for, doesn’t she?”

Raya’s expression softened. “That she does.”

Anakin sometimes wondered how Raya managed to stay so kind and calm when the world had taken so much from her. Her husband, country, her children— and yet she still stood straight, caring for the fellow traveler she’d never allowed to leave and the granddaughter that had been dumped on her with just a warning for Ahsoka’s generally explosive tendencies.

“Where is Ahsoka anyway?” Anakin asked, looking around the kitchen as if she would jump out in the open any moment. “I sent her on an errand earlier this morning, but she hasn’t returned yet.”

Unfortunately, Raya couldn’t tell him either. “I have no idea where that girl is running around—”

“Anakin!”

Speak of the dark and it shall appear. The door was thrown open and Ahsoka rushed inside, tracking even more dirt all over the floor, causing Raya to throw up her arms in defeat in a way Anakin knew meant Ahsoka would be left with all her favorite chores for the next week.

“Welcome back, Ahsoka,” Anakin said. “You’re late.”

“Yes, yes,” Ahsoka replied and rolled her eyes, obviously disinterested in what he had to say. “I got all you asked for and ordered the new metals, but look at this!”

Ahsoka raised her hand, revealing a ripped-off poster. It was tasteful in design, fine cursive writing on light blues, gold ornaments in the corners and, of course, the royal crest right in the middle of it.

Her Majesty the Queen of the Kingdom of Alderaan, Breha Organa, invites all Alderaani Practitioners of the Mythic Arts to attend the festivities in the capital of Aldera—

“Absolutely not,” Anakin said before he could even read the rest of the text. “We’re not going to Aldera to some festival.”

“Why not?” Ahsoka shot back. “It’s no summit, but it would at least be something.”

Her bitterness did not go unnoticed. Ahsoka had begged for months to attend this year’s summit. Every five, all magic practitioners gathered on Tython to exchange notes on their craft and pretend they were not also discussing the politics of their respective countries, forging alliances and the like. Anakin hadn’t been to the last summit, it having been just after Dromund Kaas, and the one before were tainted by the memories that followed, no matter how sweet the time had been. Ahsoka, of course, had begged to attend this year’s one, but it would only be foolish and reckless. He couldn’t just walk into the biggest gathering of mages in the whole continent and expect to get out of it without anyone realizing who he was, asking questions, concluding what he’d done.

Anakin had too much to hide, too much to lose, and he wasn’t going to risk his little Apprentice for it.

Not that Ahsoka knew any of that and wasn’t in the least satisfied with Anakin’s reply and immediately made her displeasure known.

“What would you even want to see there?” Anakin asked, trying to downplay how entertaining such an event was. “It’ll just be all the posh court sorcerers showing off with their fancy focusing crystals. It’s utterly boring and uncreative.”

“Like you wouldn’t use a focusing crystal if you had one,” Ahsoka muttered, arms crossed. “It’s just— there’s nobody else around here who can do magic. And all you ever do is work on machines.”

“Which requires a lot of concentration as it’s not just the manipulation of one aspect, but—”

“—but many, yes, yes, I know the speech,” Ahsoka said and dutifully listed all elements that went into their craft. There was a reason why not many forgers existed. Most mages lacked the talent, patience, and education to learn this craft, or were just plain afraid that they’d permanently damage their ability to use magic at all.

And with the speed technology was evolving and magic weaponized to terrifying new heights, not too many people still had use for forgers. Where two-hundred-years ago, you wouldn’t have gone out to hunt a dragon with a simple sword, but only with one crafted by a Master forger, nowadays you didn’t necessarily need one. Battle magic was on the rise again, especially with more and more countries growing uneasy, peace treaties falling apart. Combined with the threats from the northern continents, it was no wonder people cared less and less about expensive forgers when they could mass-produce and enchant simpler items.

“I just hoped you’d allow at least this,” Ahsoka finished. Her shoulders dropped. “Should have known better. I’ll go finish my readings.”

Ahsoka turned around, her shoulders still hanging, her head low.

Damn it.

Anakin knew that she was doing it on purpose. His Apprentice was cunning and had learned how to play into his every weakness. Slowly she marched into the direction of the door, dragging her feet behind her for effect and dramatics.

Raya raised a brow at him. She usually stayed out of Ahsoka’s tutelage, knowing next to nothing about magic herself, but even with his past being little more than a mystery to her, she could read him better than anyone else.

“Urgh, fine,” Anakin heard himself say. “Fine, we can go to the festival.”

Ahsoka turned around quicker than light and jumped up. “Yes!”

“But that means you’re not going to bring up the summit again!”

“Yes! Of course!” A moment later, Anakin had an armful of an apprentice. “Thank you so much, Master, you’re the best!”

Once she let go of him, she went to hug Raya and hug even her dirty automaton to her chest, still radiating happiness. “I need to go pack my bags immediately!”

“The festival is not for another week—”

Ahsoka obviously didn’t care. So caught up in her joy, she rushed upstairs, heading to her room to start packing. It shouldn’t surprise Anakin that she was so motivated. Ahsoka was a person who thrived on interaction, being surrounded by other people. While the people of their village were friendly, none of them were mages or even just sensitive to magic. It was one of the reasons Anakin had decided to stay without too much fight. But growing up so far removed from other mages had made Ahsoka twice as curious to meet others.

The thought made his stomach churn. He’d have to give Ahsoka formal lessons about their trade now, just if somebody asked questions that were too pointed. She’d also need a bit of the know-how on how you usually interacted with other mages and which pretentious bastards to call sorcerers before they threw a hissy fit. All these capital folks were much too sensitive about terminology after all. Anakin had never bothered to tell her the differences before, but Ahsoka would kill him if she accidentally embarrassed herself because he hadn’t seen it fit to instruct her properly. Forget teaching Ahsoka how to improve her automaton, the next week would be full of etiquette lessons. Skies, there’d be people trying to steal their spellwork too. Had he even mentioned that kind of theft before? Anakin honestly couldn’t recall.

“Already regretting it?” Raya asked, her voice just a touch amused.

“Just a bit,” Anakin replied.

“It’ll be good for her,” Raya said, convinced and confident enough for the both of them. “And good for you as well. I’ve known you for years now and you’ve never even brought a friend over. I’m not going to be young forever, you know. I do expect to be introduced to your future spouse at some point.”

“And this is my cue to go packing as well,” Anakin announced and followed Ahsoka up the stairs with Raya’s laughter following him.

He had no intention of being with anyone, ever, unless he could find glamours that held up even when majorly distracted. On his way up the stairs, Anakin caught a look of himself in the window, saw black vines curling around his neck, inviting someone to take a closer look.

It was better this way.

#obikin #star wars #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #ahsoka tano #fanfic

[goddamnitdazai]

Doldrums | Dazai {AU}

The Tea House is the only clean place in all of the three outlying territories; the capital and castle are overflowing with gold. There's boredom in both places and freedom in neither. Dazai finds the only way to amuse himself and you're just curious enough to agree. {fic under the cut} [ao3 link] x [patreon]

The long reign of the king ended unexpectedly. Within the first few months of the king’s death, the prodigal heir to the throne was crowned the one-hundred-and-fifteen King of Tartalya. Despite what the royal family toted to the public the new king only resembled his father in strategical demeanor. The prince’s (now king) features were prominent and sharp whereas the previous king had cheeks still plump with baby fat and a wide smile. Prince Osamu never smiled; that was the rumor anyway.

Per Tartalya tradition the new king was married within the first month of his new position. His wife, the dutchess of a rich port territory, fawned over him endlessly. A polished depiction of what Tartalya’s queen should be. Sweet, humble, and above all else, proper. Tartalya’s prior king required indisputable perfection within his court and their partners. Any imperfections were snuffed out quicker than a strong wind extinguishes a candle. The ruthless king’s only heir was no exception to these strict expectations; a rumor from the high court states the prince’s wife was picked when they were both ten years old due to her bloodline, manners, and demeanor. Rumors from the high courts were often stretched and dissected until they resembled fables, but there was truth to some extent. That is what you were taught to believe anyway. Take the words of a man with as you would an ill-cooked gift; chew with conviction then spit it out when their back is turned. You were taught this of all rumors and of all men. Of the region claimed by Tarayla’s century-old monarch, only three territories have been allowed to rule without direct sanctions from the high court or prince. They are considered the dark outliers in both qualities of life and the quality of inhabitants. These three territories provide shelter for merchants coming to port looking to gamble and drink, criminals from other territories seeking asylum, and those who are not able to afford a single room within the cheapest region of Tartayla’s kingdom. Like many of the other inhabitants born in Valnnin, your mother chose to leave you at the Tea House under the care of the Ozaki clan the day after you’d turned five. She was paid a handsome fee and signed a contract never to return to the Tea House. Supposedly, many women bear children simply to drop them at the Tea House for the reward. That rumor was not hard to believe given the state of Valnnin. Decent money offered the means to escape Valnnin to the closest region in Tartayla, Soinet, where large farms sit on rolling green hills lush with purple fruit that grows plentiful on tall trees. Anyone who made it out of Valnnin stayed out; by starvation or success. A part of you hoped your mother starved. There are worse fates in Valnnin than the Ozaki’s Tea House, though. Bred with a sharp wit and long cherry-red hair the Ozaki clan were well known all over Tartayla for their refined charisma and elegant beauty. Some of these traits were able to be passed on to the right young men and women making the courtesans of the Tea House the highest priced commodity in all of the three territories. Top earners are allowed to live in the lavish rooms on the top floor of the Tea House.  The Ozaki house, a four-tier traditional home lit with gold paper lanterns and endless vines wrapped over a cobblestone bridge, sits across the Tea House. The watchful guardian for the inhabitants of the Tea House. Other than becoming part of a legacy family in Valnnin, like the Ozaki, the best living was at the top of the Tea House. Residing in the middle, for now, was comfortable enough. “___, dear you’re staring.’ Kouyou tuts, whacking your knee with her lace fan. When her fan is fully spread the gold filigree becomes a long winding dragon sifting through the clouds. A well-known symbol of the Ozaki clan. The dragon is imprinted throughout the Tea House and stamped on the inside of each girl’s wrist in gold ink. Ownership and protection, that is what they preached while poking your skin with a hot needle. “Is that potted ivy really that intriguing? It must be with how rude you’re being during our conversation.” Her long manicured nail brushes over your nose to draw your attention. Her touch instantaneously forces your shoulders to go rigid as your eyes drop to your lap. Kouyou’s sharp nails bite at your jawline. “Don’t be rude to our company tonight. Understood?” You nod, wincing a bit at her grip. Kouyou-san only showed this type of intensity with newer girls in order to hammer in the traditions of the Tea House. You, however, had been here for fifteen long years and knew every twist and turn. Your familiarity had risen to the point that you and the other girls made wages on some of the staff’s mood based on an eyebrow quirk or tense knuckle. For the most part, you won each round. Kouyou-san did insist your looks and keen eye made for a high commodity, however, the blessings around your features were not as god-like as some of the girls. You were sure they came from a line of Queens and Goddesses long before humanity stomped over the grasslands. “Kouyou-san, I don’t understand why you won’t inform me who I am waiting for.” You shift uncomfortably in your silk robe. The pillow beneath your knees had become a hardened lump of clay that was sure to leave bruises. “Using the gold room is above my station.” “It is.” Kouyou agrees without an ounce of hesitation. If you were allowed to show your true emotions a dark frown laden with knitted brows would be reflecting back at Kouyou. Tea house manners forbade any type of backtalk, verbal or otherwise, toward the ladies of the house. It had been a long time since your feet had been whipped into a bloody mess due to your expressions. “You should be thankful a man of high caliber is interested in your company.” You exhale through your nose and adjust the pillow subtly just for something to grab and ease the tension rising up your spine. The golden room was incredibly expensive and reserved for foreign clientele or a man rich enough to buy the country twice over. What you could gather from the maids who set the room was scarcely what you could consider good information but their gossiping mouths let out that the changes were due to the man’s incredibly specific taste. Instead of immaculate gaudy golden candles, simple paper lanterns were hung in shades of red that bounced off the polished wood walls. The marble table had been replaced with a smaller traditional one stacked high with poker chips and two crystal glasses. A bottle of imported whisky more expensive than the entirety of Valnnin had been staring back at you for the better part of an hour. Jewels from all over the country were heaped into woven baskets spilling out their glittering gemstones of blues, pinks, reds, and purples. One stone looked as big as your palm. Within the baskets, bracelets, and necklaces sparkle and hang over the rim like a used handkerchief tossed in the garbage. Money can’t buy taste, you think to yourself, though you wouldn’t mind pocketing some of those jewels to sell later. Abruptly the double doors open and the lanterns are snuffed out. Above your head dangles an imported odd-shaped light with arms extending outwards holding each white candle as if it were trying to scorch the walls.  Kouyou stands to greet the unknown guest. Gliding across the wooden floor as a swan crosses a lake. You remain perfectly poised. Long red dress stretching out your arms to pool against your thighs. The Tea House provided silk garments for expensive clients that showed skin without being over-zealous. A strong dip in the back revealing your spine for wandering fingers. Bare shoulders for teeth to graze and tease. Your lips had been painted deep red to accentuate a pout worthy of a diamond necklace. Beyond Kouyou’s tall stance you barely make out the rough edges of a man much taller than Kouyou. “Enjoy your time, sir. Please, let me know if I can do anything to be more accommodating.” Kouyou’s bow is deep and longer than usual. The man doesn’t bow back.  The guards that had accompanied him to the golden room remain on the other side of the screen door once it’s closed, another uncommon occurrence. You get to your feet and walk towards the man in the same manner Kouyou did. You’d done this a hundred times. A thousand. Something high up, but there was an odd sensation growing in the pit of your stomach. Circling the pit of your belly like a serpent through the grass. “Good evening. Who do I have the pleasure of spending time with? I’m afraid my tongue has gone numb in excitement.” The man chuckles and takes a step forward; you take in his form with a simple blink. His hair is an unruly slue of dark browns overlapping each other held back by a deep ruby pin, an odd style but the capital tended to couple foreign fashion with traditional garments. The stranger is incredibly tall, thin, wearing traditional Tartayla clothing though the crest on his lapel doesn’t ring a bell. It did not mirror the crests members of the court wore nor the men stationed beneath them. Scribes, military, footmen, all members of the palace wore crests revealing their status to the world. A palace aid, even, would be able to afford the golden room for a night. “That’s a lie.” He takes another few steps towards you. Swift. His long legs easily bring him close enough for you to smell his cologne. Expensive and foreign. “I specifically told Ozaki not to speak my name. A clever way to ask without asking.” You blink rapidly but hold your ground, folding your hands politely in front of your thighs. His stare is honey lined with liquid gold. “As expected of a woman raised in the Tea House.” “I did not want to seem ill-prepared.” You finally answer, “It is uncommon to not know the name of my companion prior to meeting.” Nicknames--you roll through the most requested, but none of them fit. He bends a bit, you expect a hand on your cheek or your chin; he grips your throat. Contracting your airways with an eerily gentle touch. “You can address me as Dazai, nothing else.” His gaze remains ice cold. Something about the name bubbles up and up until your mouth unintentionally drops open just enough to let out a silent gasp. Prince Dazai. If he would let go of your chin you could bow to him but he anchors himself to the ground. “Ah, there it is. I can let go that you did not recognize me considering we let the territories exist as an extension. Not much royalty passing through here? What a scandal~”. He releases your jaw and walks over to the table in the center of the room. Out of instinct, you follow behind with your head bowed just slightly. What would the prince be doing here? You presumed when royal blood desired the flesh of someone else other than their betrothed they found it easily among the many women of the court. “Dazai, what is it you desire tonight?” Common phrases of your trade finally return once your tongue has melted off the shock. “Business.” He states, taking a seat on the plush pillows. “Come, and don’t speak unless I ask you a question.” Dazai pats his hand on his lap as he speaks. You follow his command and walk yourself to his lap. The scent of him is overwhelmingly pleasing in comparison to the other men that have requested this position. With your back against his chest, you can feel the ruffle of fabric on your bare skin from his vest, it’s an interesting sensation. You’d never felt this type of material before. “Now,” Dazai starts voice a rich smoky tenor, “you will come with me to the capital and sit just like this. You won’t speak, you won’t move, you won’t do a thing except look as you do now.” He drags his knuckles down your spine. “All you need to know is that. What lies in this room,” he lazily gestures to the jewels in the collapsing baskets, “will be your payment.” All you can do is nod dumbly. What the hell did he want you at the capital for? To be a lap ornament? What a strange request. You want to say no, to tell him you’re much more than a porcelain doll to play with. Your wit and charm has made you the favorite of so many men of his own court. Dazai presses his nose to the curve between your throat and shoulder. “You may ask one question but make it quick, I dislike having to ride home during the day.” Dazai gave you information without giving you detail. The bare-bones without an explanation or purpose, but he was the prince. You couldn’t pester him for more like your regulars who gave vague requests--of which you denied regardless of what it was. Taking a courtesan out of the Tea House was strictly forbidden. There was no amount that would interest the Ozaki women to allow their charges to leave the premises with a client. Every person had their price, though, it should have been obvious considering your line of work. “Am I to be a lap ornament for your entertainment or to prove a point to another person?” Dazai pauses his hand on your spine. For a moment your heart freezes--until he begins to laugh. Harmonious and cheerful, it almost sounds sweet but the tingle in your spine tells you otherwise. “Both,” Dazai places his hand on your thigh giving the soft flesh a tight squeeze, “but the latter. I don’t find very much of this world entertaining in the slightest.” Abruptly his teeth graze the shell of your ear as his hand wanders beneath your silk dress finding the edge of your hipbone. “This is just to waste time.”                                   __________________________ Jealousy was not something prince Dazai experienced. However, the man across from you seemed to be dripping green with it. You vaguely recognized him, a court-appointed general from the land across the sea. The name escaped you, anytime he appeared at the Tea House for your attention his words sank to the bottom of your consciousness. His conversation was as dull and his hands were fat with sausage-like fingers that didn’t know how to properly undo the knots that held your dress together at the side. He never had enough money other than to converse for twenty minutes and stare at your nude body. Prior to the meeting, Dazai had walked you through the main courtyard filled lined with enormous evergreen trees and rose bushes taller than your shoulders. Members of the royal court bowed and held their tongues as you passed. Your clothing served as a clear indicator of your position in the Tea House. Dazai had made it a point to dress you in the most elegant outfit the Tea House allowed. Draped in gold and black with hints of deep scarlet beneath the split up your thigh. The palace was, unsurprisingly,  massive in size and stature. Getting lost for hours within its corridors and monumental rooms seemed inevitable. Had Dazai let you wander from his side. “Do not speak or move without my permission.” His only warning punctuated with a sharp slap to your ass. While the meeting went on Dazai’s hands grew increasingly curious in tandem with his ever-rising boredom. Beneath the table, his fingers roamed between your legs never touching where you wanted. They drew teasing circles just outside your lower lips. Dug crescents into the meat of your inner thighs. The longer the meeting went on the higher his hands reached. Inside the deep cut of your dress to squeeze your breast while he spoke about the outcome of a fictional war the general had threatened, apparently. Something about trade prices rising. Anything happening beyond Dazai’s grip wasn’t sticking to your psyche. By the time the meeting was finished sweat was beading down the back of your neck. Your cheeks had grown hot to the touch and your clit was aching for touch. Dazai simply stood expecting you to catch yourself. “You will not be returning to the Tea House.” It was all he said before two guards escorted you down a long corridor lined with paintings of the royal bloodline.                       ___________________________________ The first time he fucked you the moon had appeared in splendor. Bright and bold against dark skies empty of stares and clouds. His wife had requested him to come to bed early. Her long dark hair falling in gentle curls illuminated by the candelabra she held in her fist. You watched from the corner of his study as Dazai used that talented tongue of his to herd her back to bed. Once the door was shut and locked with a metal key Dazai bent you over his desk and fucked you deep and slow. He left bite marks on your neck and laughed when you begged so pathetically to cum around his cock. At first, there was nothing inside him. No emotion to his touch and no passion beyond the carnal desire to fuck you when he needed release. His wife would often stare at you when you passed in the corridors trying to find some sort of entertainment. You had heard nothing of your position at the palace nor had anyone questioned your existence there. Dazai demanded you stay within his sights at all times and would punish you with hard slaps to your bare ass when you wandered too far. He was the softest after he left a red handprint on your behind. He’d cradle you in his arms and call you pretty things like a lover would. It only served to deepen your confusion in both your own feelings for him and what he wanted out of your existence in his life.                     _______________________________________ The queen’s illness came on rapidly and without a cause. She was pale with a fever and sickly looking. Her skin stretched over the bones of her face and her eyes looked glass. Nothing the doctors were doing had made a difference. She existed on her large bed surrounded by basins of water and broth, her ladies in waiting rotated washing her and feeding her the best they could. She couldn’t move on her own accord except to speak in a low muddled voice. Dazai did not visit her often. After a week she had been moved to her own room down two corridors and across from the King’s quarters. The bed was burned and the room scrubbed clean until it glistened. Dazai didn’t ask, he never did. When your room turned up empty you knew to find him in his quarters. His long legs propped up on the ottoman beside the window, fingers over his favorite book gifted by a friend long gone from this world. His touch had become gentle in the past few weeks. You presumed, at first, it was due to his grieving and perhaps guilt for the affair. Yet he did not change the frequency in which he kissed you, fucked you, held you against his chest for a few minutes before he eventually left the bed to finish whatever work he’d thrown across the floor when he grew too aggravated or bored. Nights he wanted to fall off the edge of the world he tied your hands to the bed and played with your body until sunrise. Dazai left his mark where he pleased. Nothing felt as good as his hands, his attention, his tongue. Rarely did he ever keep himself on top. No, he expected you to ride him. Make him cum while he watched you grow addicted to the feeling of his cock inside of you.                                  ______________________ Dazai had to produce an heir, he said, one morning while you’d been eating breakfast at his side. His wife could not fulfill that duty while sick. You pause for a moment and set your glass down. Looking at him as the sun rises behind his head. “You know I can’t have children.” Part of the process of becoming part of the Tea House; everyone went through the procedure. “What do you plan to do?” Dazai wipes his mouth with a napkin. “What makes you believe I haven’t already finished what I planned to do?” He places his elbows on the table and folds his fingers beneath his chin. That same gaze from the day you met him in the golden room returning to douse you in something unsettling. You blink at him and lean back in your chair. “As long as the queen remains alive you are not able to marry another. You will be expected to wait to have a child with your wife when she is well again.” Dazai tilts his head. “I don’t want children.” He says nonchalantly. “Dazai..” What makes you believe I haven’t already finished what I planned to do? “Dazai.” His grin spreads wide, eyes darkening despite the light from the windows splashing halycon all over the room. “Eat up, _____. I’m growing bored.”

#dazai #dazai osamu #bsd #bungou stray dogs #dazai x reader #dazai fanfic #my writing dazai #fantasy au #dazai au #bsd fanfic #dazai is kind of a dick #what a surprise #dazai one shot

[poptod]

The Breeding Kings, pt. 21

Description: The Hanging Gardens of Babel

Notes: there is an innate human need to be remembered for both accomplishments and person; for those thousands of years from now to look back and know that people have always been human. WC: 6.9k

+

He'd trained before, but this was different.

For one, he didn't usually have an audience, and second, he didn't usually have to respect his teacher, either. Tall buildings and their shadows that once surrounded them were now turned to dead gardens outside the manor of his employment, acting as a 'private' circle of study surrounded by the half-wall around the property.

He panted as he lifted himself to his feet, taking up his staff once more. The trainer was the head guard, Urtak, a man who Ahk was pretty sure did not like him, and who did nothing to try and negate that belief. Sometimes Ahk would complain about this to you and you'd try to comfort him, but now you just laughed whenever the guard knocked him to his back.

"Come now, Aganu," Urtak said, pacing and slamming the end of his staff against the hard ground, crackling into the dry earth. "Can't expect to protect Ukani's home and guests with this technique."

"I do not speak Akkadian," Ahk repeated for the fourth time that day, grunting as he jumped up again.

"He is saying you are a pussy!!" You yelled in Egyptian from the servant's quarters' roof.

"Thank you, Yogi," Ahk called sarcastically, a bitter smile on his face.

Ahk cast one annoyed glance in your direction before Urtak's staff was hooking behind his knee again, forcing him to the ground, again. His hands were scratched, red, and dry, irritated further by the rough ground and spiky plants below him. He took a deep breath––or as deep a breath as he could in the dust cloud––and took up his spear once more, facing Urtak with a malice lacing his parted lips. Years spent training would aid him now, but he drew a blank on how to approach his opponent.

Urtak's staff came whizzing down from above, aiming directly for his skull. Instinctively, Ahk whipped his own spear up, dislocating the staff's projectory. The guard tried a couple more times, coming down upon his midsection or legs in hopes of knocking Ahkmen back down to the ground. This time he blocked––though, it did take him a few more moves before he realized he could now parry in return.

Before attempting to strike at his side in any way, or to knock his balance off kilter, he stabbed the blunt end of his staff into Urtak's stomach, punching the breath out of him.

A distant 'WHOOO!' came from behind him and he laughed, glancing to you in time to see your grin and a lute swinging about in your hand. It gave ample distraction that led to Urtak taking revenge in an unconventional manner when it came to staff fights; he punched him in the face.

Ahkmen groaned loudly as he stumbled back, still on his feet but with his hands covering his nose and mouth. Something warm was dripping from his nose, and as he pulled his hands away he found blood, coating his skin in thick drops.

"Aaaaaand," your lute began to play a joyous little tune as you sang, "he get fuck in the face!"

"Those aren't even words!" Ahk yelled back through his laughter.

"Pay attention," Urtak said stiffly, bringing his staff to backslap Ahk's head.

Of course training had to come just when his bruises and aches were healing from falling over a tarp fence taller than his whole body. Now everything was back tenfold, aching from old pain and biting from new. The only good part was that now you were both being paid, meaning you could afford a couple luxuries, such as a lavender healing ointment you found on your way home from the brewery that day.

Ahkmen spent a good deal more of his freetime sleeping than you did, napping beneath the warm, mud roof, but safe from the burning rays of the sun. Birds tweeted about outside, their songs muffled through the thick walls. Flies managed to get inside. To his fortune, no one else was in the servant's quarters, and he could splay out on the biggest bed. He continued to doze in the warmth, resting his creaking joints until footsteps sounded through the dry underbrush, crunching beneath small feet.

"Aganu?" Came your soft voice, your knuckles knocking against the cool, clay doorway.

He let out a muffled moan, regretfully moving himself to sit up straight.

"How've you been, my dear?" He asked, sniffing to clear his still-bloody nose.

"Better than you," you said as you knelt beside him.

You carried several different things in your hands, including a damp cloth, a bandage, a small bottle of honey, and the ointment you bought without him.

"What's that?" He asked.

"For the scraping," you said, taking his hand and resting it in your lap palm up.

The cork popped out of the jar, tossed onto the bed as you poured some of the ointment onto your hands. Ahk watched in interest as you took his hand, washing his skin with the cool mixture, and partially burning the more sensitive cuts. He hissed as you passed over the largest.

"Do you think that this is good for you?" You asked as you looked up.

"What, the ointment or –"

"The fighting," you chuckled.

"Ah. Well, it has been good to rehearse some of my moves," he said with a shrug.

You nodded, continuing to massage the red marks.

"Then I can protect you better," he said.

"My little boy," you grinned, pinching his cheek with your lotion-clad fingers. He scrunched up his face, wiping the treatment away.

"I'm not a little boy," he said flatly.

"But you are my – or, mine," you said.

"A little." He nodded vaguely.

Your affections had been switching unpredictably the last few days, since around when he snuck into the King's garden, so he never knew how to react to certain things you said. Sometimes you would snap at him for things he hadn't ever considered, but other times, like this, you tied him to you, caring for wounded muscles and mind.

Once you were done with both his hands, you moved on to his scuffed knees, and gently rubbed the ointment in there. Again he flinched back, but you held him tight in place.

"What are you going to be doing for the party?" He asked after a few minutes of silence, spent convincing himself it'd be odd to reach forward and tangle his fingers in your unkempt hair.

"I am with the beer, and the food," you said, glancing up sparingly. "I am one of the people who does not talk the whole time."

"Oh, don't worry," he sighed, sitting back. "So am I."

It'd be the first event Ahk ever attended where he wasn't expected to look like a God, or to perform some heavenly speech that assured the listening people of his nation.

Later that same day it would be announced to the staff at large that a member of the royal family would be attending as an honored guest of the estate owner's––whose name was Ukani––three, triplet daughters. It was the first time Ahk had seen the identical girls, though you had clearly met them before judging by your glazed over expression. It was also announced that because of this, all the servants and guards would have to be wearing proper attire––something that fit a nobleman's party better than plain skirts and dirtied dresses.

Every servant in line let out a long groan, though most were subdued in the face of the stewardess. She glared down each of you thoroughly.

"I'm sure you'll be glad to learn these will be supplied for you. You won't need to get anything on your own," she said, and everyone seemed to fare much better with that.

She drilled into the eleven of you standing in that line––including yourselves and the other four new recruits–-that respect of the family and their friends was vital, and that employment would not last should that respect be breached. Ahkmen wondered as he watched her steely eyes if guards and servants were treated like this in his own home by the overseers; his personal servant, Naguib, hadn't said anything about it. Then again, Ahk never asked.

You were soon dismissed, and you and Ahk immediately went to each other.

"I do not like this," you said, crossing your arms. Clearly the dress code bothered you, even if it was financially stable.

"Don't worry," he chuckled, "I'm sure you'll look fine."

"I am not a doll."

"Really? You're small enough to be one –"

Before he could laugh at his own joke you punched him in the gut, laughing when he clutched his stomach. Of course, it didn't hurt all that much, but it did take him greatly by surprise.

Steaming buns filled with mashed dates smelled more heavenly than he ever could've imagined. The shop was only across the plaza from the brewery, as well––it gave him an ample opportunity to dash over, purchase a couple, and run back before you finished preparing the same batch throughout the ten you were starting today. Experiments never ended with you––continuous tests and studies had to be conducted.

He jogged down the steps, ducking beneath the tarp doorway with a cloth sack in hand; within it, the buns. The scent of broiling beer wafted thick in the small stirring room, the many fires of different bubbling pots warmed the area as well, and the heat remained trapped beneath the tarp ceiling. Sunlight poured in through gaps between the ceiling and the wall, illuminating wisps of smoke rising from a small plate of incense burning opposite the entrance. A few of the brewers discussed things quietly among themselves as he passed. Familiarity became this room; humid, almost unpleasantly warm, and smelling of nothing more than sweet, honeyed beer. And you.

"How's it coming?" Ahk asked, stopping in front of your stand, the warm desert in his hand clutched to his chest.

"Good, I am with the, uh..." you paused as you pumped the stir stick up and down through the thick malt, "the saffron."

"Smells nice," he said, earning a smile from you.

"Thanks many," you said.

He chuckled, shifting his weight as he looked bashfully down.

"Oh, I got you something," Ahk said after seeing the pouch again. He released the drawstring, pulling out one of the buns.

"Oooh," you said as you took it. "What is it?"

"Some sort of date dessert, I don't think I've ever tried one of these before."

Within the date paste were chewy nuts which, after a moment, tasted distinctly like pistachios. You hummed pleasurably with your first bite, your cheeks puffing out with how massive of a bite you'd taken.

Conversation continued throughout the couple rows of stirring pots, must of the words muffled beneath the churning of beer. Ahkmen finished his bun quicker than you did, and spun slowly round to scan the room before his attention fell back to you, watching as you finished.

"Good?" He asked with a chuckle.

"Very," you assured him.

More murmurs and whispers had him turning around again, trying to look for who was speaking in such noticeable whispers.

"What do you talk about all day with these people?" Ahk asked as he spun back round to you, his hands on his hips.

"I do not talk much," you admitted. "I do not talk good in Akkadian, but I do hear what they say."

"So... what do they talk about?"

"Oh, they have parents, and children, and lovers... and they have the beer, also. They, uh.. they do talk about you," you added hesitantly.

"Me?" He asked incredulously.

He turned around and, sure enough, two women's eyes darted from the back of his head down to their work.

"Wait, why?" He asked, suddenly horrified by the products of his imagination. So much so that he didn't notice his hands gripping the lip of your pot, soon to be burned by the heat. Once he noticed, he ripped his hands away, scanning the red marks on his palms

"Aganu, do not do that," you said in a tired sigh, clunking the spoon down in the bowl.

You stepped down from your stool, taking him by his wrist and leading him over to a corner of the brewery stocked with shelves. The class and clay bottle clinked together brightly as you shuffled through them, expertly finding a small, black bottle with an equally adorable cork. A pop came from it as you pulled it out, placing your finger over the mouth and shaking it upside down.

"What is that?" He asked quietly as he looked over your shoulder.

"It is an oil, for burns," you said, concentrating greatly as you organized the cork, the bottle, and your oil-covered finger onto one hand.

"Oh. Does it happen a lot?"

"Yes," you said with an irate groan that had Ahk chuckling. "Harmu come in here and make love words with the women, and – and take them off the beer, and that makes the batch fail. That is a lot of barley, gone."

"Ah," he breathed out.

While you talked you took his hand, displaying the burnt palm and coating it with the oil on your finger. Since there was only a little bottle of it, you used very little with each dip into the oil, and thus had to flip the bottle much more frequently over your finger.

"It is still okay to eat, but it is not good at all," you said, shaking your head.

"You've tried it then?"

"I have smelled it," you said.

He belted out a laugh.

"Am I one of the... what did you call them? Harmu?"

"Yes, uh... fuck, what is it in Egyptian?" You closed your eyes, your face screwed up in a frown. "I can only remember the Akkadian and the Harappan."

"But am I one of them?

You looked up, almost surprised by his question.

"Oh, no, you do not make love with women here," you said.

Ahkmen sighed very, very deeply, just barely staunching the circus of laughter in his chest.

"Please don't say that again."

The whole of the incident was forgotten by the time you were walking home, bathed in the shadow of the tall city walls. Most of the stores you passed were now closed, making way for warm nights and a hot meal, the latter of which you looked forward to. It took a little getting used to, but eventually the porridge-type beer served at the estate rubbed off on you.

Until then, you wandered through the streets of Babylon, absorbing the colors bursting around you, before sinking into the quiet of night once more.

By the time the stone walls of the estate came into view, life around you had dimmed into such quiet moments resigned to the windows of nearby houses. Crickets chirped in the absence of thundering footsteps.

Neither of you spoke much––sometimes commentating on stray cats or dogs, or the bugs that jumped in and out of view, but little more than that. Part of it was Ahkmen's doing, as he was usually the first to say something, and as of right now he was far too absorbed in his own thoughts to make any such conversation. But, like usual, he was still engrossed in you, dreaming of something that came to his sleepy mind a few hours ago.

"Husband!" You suddenly exclaimed, your eyes widening as recognition washed over you.

"What??"

"That is the word I did not know, harmu, it is husband," you said with a grin.

"Ohh," he said. "You scared me."

"Sorry," you said, and leant into him, holding his arm to your chest.

Ah, right. That's what a heart palpitation felt like, beating wildly in his chest at the feeling of your heat. Even in the warm evening he revelled in the touch. So maybe it was alright, he reasoned––maybe you really had forgiven him, and done readily so, leaving Ahk himself to build this discomfort in your presence that fed off his uncertainty.

Perhaps he should live more in the moment––that is what he thought, and he debated it greatly during your small dinner atop the servant's quarters roof.

The two of you chewed in silence for a little while, enjoying the warmth of the porridge as quiet murmurs below you broke the creaking of crickets. Someone down in the quarters was plucking at a lute, but made no particular melody, and Ahk imagined them leant back on their bed, their head pressed against the wall and their eyes closed as they played. It'd been a while since he'd heard you play, and he'd never heard you actually sing before for purposes other than making fun of him.

While he listened he stared ahead at the city's silhouette, from the dips marking streets to the towers reaching the Milky Way. He squinted to see the steps of a pyramid––not entirely unlike the step pyramid of Djoser––and frowned when he couldn't identify its' use. Temples were built in the form of ziggurats in Babylon, not pyramids.

It hit him after a few more seconds of staring, and before he could think it through he blurted something out that he couldn't quite hear.

"I think we should go see one of the gardens here," he said, recogniing the vines and flora that draped from the steps of the tower. "They've been taunting me lately with their grandeur."

You chuckled, leaning back and saying, "okay... but I have garden work, here, tomorrow."

"Of course. Can I ask you something?"

"Yes, always," you said with a nod.

"You said the women talk about me. What do they say?" He asked.

"Oh," a smile spread across your face as you looked away, "oh, not any words too bad. It is... you do not speak Akkadian, that is not right for them, you know? And you do have clothes a little... um, not Karanduniash. You speak only to me and all you say to them is I do not know Akkadian in Akkadian. That is also a little..."

"Strange?" He offered.

"A little," you nodded, shrugging in hopes of lessening the blow.

"I've never been strange before," he said quietly.

"What?" You looked up from the floor to meet his eye.

"Well, my father was rich so a lot of people treated me with great respect. If I wanted to I could have had hordes of friends and followers, so it was definitely my own choice to stay to myself," he said, gesturing vaguely with his hands as he spoke and you nodded along with him.

"I had thought people did not like you," you admitted.

"What, why??" He said, suddenly horrified. His reaction had you belting out a laugh.

"You had one, mean friend, and Panya did not like you, too," you said with another apologetic shrug.

"Well when you put it like that," he said, and the both of you devolved into giggles.

When you calmed down there was less space between you, your dishes set to the side as you inched closer.

"Did Panya ever talk about me?" He asked, inquisitive eyes scanning you thoroughly.

"A little," you nodded. "She says... you did mean things when you were.. young. Piye did, too."

"Piye said I was a bad person?"

"No, only that you had things when you were young," you assured him. "But good things, also. You are... kind, in heart."

Your attention glazed over, and Ahk watched with uncertainty as you reached forward, setting your hand over his trembling heart. He could feel your hand moving with how hard his heart beat, trying desperately to calm himself as skin met flushed skin.

Fingers trailed down his bare chest until you withdrew your hand entirely, finally looking back up at him with gleaming eyes.

"I think you are good, still if you say the words wrong, you are good at heart," you said in a sudden need to assure him of his own humanity.

It acted as an apology in your eyes, but to him he saw nothing but love, and his heartbeat increased tenfold. What summer nights brought about amidst the bugs and acquaintances murmuring below.

Coins jingled in his pocket as he made his way through the streets, weaving through thick crowds to reach the center marketplace. He bid good-bye to you several minutes earlier, leaving you to work on the estate's garden, while Ahkmen enjoyed his freetime away from the masters. His clothes, perfectly suited to blend in with the locals, also hid away his various bags of grain and coins that he would use as payment, and the dagger strapped to his hip.

There was no particular aim he had in mind as he walked, eyes darting from the indecipherable shop signs to the various people spending their morning out on the streets. He would, at times, come across small trios or couplets of musicians who filled up the space between loud conversations, bringing to the chaos a sort of art. High flutes played in tune with deep lyres, the instruments made of a cheaper wood more easily afforded by the lower classes. But the bustle of traders and merchants could still be heard clearly throughout the noise, calling out prices and wares, and advertising the many products sold within the streets of Babylon.

Babylon had, like Egypt, somehow retained much of its' prosperity despite the trying times. Rapiqum and the cities of Canaan––Jericho and Jerusalem––suffered much worse; a lack of water befalling the people who resided in the starved cities. But the river Euphrates never strayed from Babylon, and had continued to run through the city in plentiful waves.

The water of the Euphrates was said to be tears. Tears from the primorial Goddess, whose name Ahk couldn't recall. He frowned as he looked over the edge of the terrace, leaning on a white stone railing that separated him from a ten foot drop into the swirling waters below, lined with the blue tile of the city's gates. From the even decorations on either side, Ahk correctly assumed that it marked the water level of a typical year; the water currently ran an arm's length below the mark. He let out a long sigh, his fingers digging into the railing.

At the sight of this Ahk couldn't help but imagine the Nile falling to such depths. Each year brought forth a differing inundation, making it hard to truly worry about the water level. But years of this would dry the farmlands, polluting the cities with dry, infertile dirt, and ridding of the already scant shade along the Nile's shores. Birds would leave in droves, and antelope would follow the scent of water to more fruitful lands.

He didn't notice how tight his grip on the rail grew until the plaster cracked, the pop drawing his attention back to his intense glare and gritted jaw. A couple of the people stopping at the riverside gave him odd looks, some of them scooting away from him, at which point he released all the tension in his body and stepped quickly away, heading back into the western city.

He once again found himself in one of the city's many center circles, allowing shopfronts to spread out in multitudes to present their wares. Nearly all the shops were open at this time, since it was around noon, and Ahk could hardly hear his own thoughts with the rampant conversation and shouts surrounding him. A headache sprouted in his knotted brow from the confused––or irritated––expression on him.

"Lost, are you?"

"Who the f–"

Ahk whipped around to see who had spoken, mostly because it was in Egyptian, only to find a dissapointingly familiar face.

"Oh. You," Ahk said stiffly, crossing his arms as he stopped dead in the center of the moving crowd, the Kassite Prince standing across from him with a smile.

"I thought you looked a little lonely out here," he said, taking several, leisurely steps forward. "All by yourself."

"Listen, you and I do not know each other," Ahk said, taking his movement as a challenge and stepping forward till he truly faced the shorter prince. "Stop talking to me in public."

"You should feel honored I ever speak to you at all," he retorted.

Ahkmen internally groaned. Did others feel this way when they spoke to him during his childhood? The Kassite Prince did seem to be a little younger than Ahk, though not by much.

"Don't you have Kings in Egypt?" the Prince continued.

"Pharaohs. And I'm fully aware they do, I just never liked them," Ahk lied sourly, his lips pursed tight together.

"That gold on your arm says otherwise," he said, gesturing with his chin to the gold band wrapped round his bicep.

"Who even are you?"

"The Prince, you –"

"I know that," Ahk interrupted him. "I meant your name."

The Kassite Prince hesitated for a moment, caught off guard by the question.

"You know what? I don't care," Ahk said after another second of silence, throwing his hands up in the in defeat, and turning round and walking away.

"Hey!" The prince called out in a whine, but the crowd already welled up in the space between them. "My name's Rimush!"

"And my name's Fuck You," Ahk muttered beneath his breath.

Incense from Elam. Considering your interest in other cultures, and the magic ongoings of said cultures, Ahk took the guess that you would enjoy a hint of the travel yet to come. You still had beer batches you had to finish, and Ahk was enjoying his time returning to combat training, eagerly memorizing each move and doing it thoroughly as he imagined besting any creature that dared to hurt you. There was no need to hurry yourselves to Elam, but there still lingered a curiosity in you and Ahkmen. Priest teachers in Egypt never spoke much about Elam considering the distances between the two countries. Imports reached further than power, however, so Ahk actually had used Elamite incense before, and recalled it as being pleasant. You'd like it, he thought.

Incense progressed into talismans and tools, till his poor money-managing skills led him to carrying three bags worth of things, some for you, and some for himself. Most for you, though. He burned a bright red as he walked back to the estate, already knowing how you'd laugh, rocking back in your seat as he revealed your effect on him even without your presence. But it would be worth it to see the hidden delight in your twinkling eyes.

"Aganu, do you know how many necklaces you have give me?" You asked, about ten minutes after you asked what the thing in your hand was, and he answered 'necklace'.

"No, I wasn't really counting," he said, lifting himself out of his own bag to look over your shoulder.

You sat on his bed, you at the head and him on the side, his legs still planted on the ground. Two of the bags were now empty, their contents scattered in piles around the sheets, all of which belonged to you. Ahk kept his own belongings in a separate bag on the floor.

"This is ten and six necklaces," you said as you held up the mass of necklaces, looking more like tiny, black and brown worms rather than jewelry, the sight of which had giggles bubbling up in both of you.

"Sorry?" He said through his chuckling.

"No, no, I love," you said, setting to untangling them.

It took nearly ten minutes but eventually the two of you untangled all of them, only for you to put every last one of them around your neck, tangling them back around on your chest. You flashed a dizzying grin once you wore all his gifts.

"It's still early," he stuttered out, his face slowly warming with blood as he found himself unable to look away from you, or the sunlight streaming through the door that illuminated your soft skin. "Do you think today'll work for the garden?"

"Oh, yes," you said, straightening your back. "Yes, that is good!"

He chuckled, averting his eyes to his fidgeting fingers.

Tamarisk trees flanked the entrance of the tower, still scraping the sky with the tallest terrace overflowing with leaves of green. The throes of a dying sun painted the white pillars red and orange, burning like flames that would surely overtake the city, but still cooled by the high-up winds that brushed against the hanging trees and flowers.

A wide arch greeted you, acting as a massive entrance leading into a tall room overflowing with grasses, reeds, and bushes. Most of them you recognized instantly––herbs of special sorts, both from Mesopotamia and from far away. You picked those you recognized, stuffing the leaves and roots into one of your many pockets. Ahkmen chuckled at your behavior, but still stopped at your side to allow your collecting, which continued to the stairs carved in a polished, white stone, massive lamassu statutes towering above you. They popped right out of the stone, empty eyes staring straight down into Ahk.

"Wow," he said, earning a hum from you.

"It is like Egypt," you said.

He turned to you with a frown.

"How so?"

"Big, stone cat, with a man head," you said, pointing up at the human fae.

"Oh," he turned back to the statue, "I suppose you're right."

A couple came down the stairs, pressed tightly together when they noticed you. The two of you also drew closer, and began to head up the stairs, watching for the new flora that bloomed out of seemingly nothing.

Lines of arches whose pillars were carved in intricate patterns led to the wind of open air rustling through the trees, willows and their long tendrils dancing and entangling themselves with the flowers of nearby vines. Water clung to the air around you, kept humid and warm in the strange, and surely intentional, dome of a ceiling. Yet more stairs sat behind you, meaning the next floor must've been built higher than the ceiling of the second floor.

Fruits––though most of them small––grew on the low bushes and on high trees, their blooming colors matching the many petals of white, red, gold, and deep purple. You soon discovered the reason for the small fruits was that the other people roaming throughout the terraces picked the larger, more ripened ones, eating them as they wandered about. You soon did the same, picking a small plum and offering part of it to Ahk. He took a couple bites before handing it back to you.

At the brush of your fingers, his heart did not speed––not like before, and he melted into the familiarity, into the warmth he memorized in your touch. Without much thought he took your hand, entwining your fingers sticky with fruit sugar together. When you didn't try to pull away, he pushed down the excitement that was quick to fill his chest, but allowed himself a small smile.

A woman picked fruit from a tree in front of your path, but when he accidentally caught her eye, she hurried off with her basket in hand. Ahk looked up to where she'd been tending, and found large, red pomegranates hanging abundantly from the flimsy tree.

Moving up to his toes, he picked one of the fruits and handed it to you.

"Ever had a pomegranate before?" He asked when you just held it, staring at it in your hands.

"That is this?" You said as you raised it.

"Indeed so. My brother and I used to split it."

"You had a brother??" You asked incredulously.

"Did I never tell you?"

"No," you said. Obviously.

"Alright, well, before he started really hating me, we'd sometimes sneak out into the market and split food, since we couldn't find enough money to pay for an overzealous amount," Ahk explained.

At the very end of his sentence you took a massive bite into the raw peel, instantly frowning when you bit into something fleshy and bitter. Ahkmen, who took a second to notice this, quickly took the fruit from you with a gasp. A large bitemark was already in the fruit.

"That – that's not how you eat pomegranates," he stammered, digging his thumbs into the new-revealed fruit, and splitting it open to reveal the seeds within.

"It is bad," you said, your expression still contorted uncomfortably.

"Spit it out!"

You spit your bite into the nearby bushes, earning cold stares from the couple of people who saw. Their gazes had you shrinking in on yourself.

"Don't worry about it," Ahk said quietly, setting a hand on your back. "I would definitely have done the same thing."

The two of you split the pomegranate, and Ahkmen showed you that it was the fruit-covered seeds that were the truly consumable part. You ended up enjoying them quite a bit, and the one pomegranate lasted you throughout the whole of the marble and limestone garden terrace, following you up the stairs till nothing remained but the shell. Ahk tossed the remains away, and the two of you continued onwards.

Eventually the air began to cool with the ascending floors, and Ahk's Egyptian clothes––which he'd worn that day because he had no work––ceased to fit the temperature, landing Ahk with a soured look and goosebumps coming up constantly on his arms that were crossed tight over his chest.

"Awwwh, you are cold?" You asked in a saccharine voice, after Ahk spent ten minutes wondering if you noticed his shivering.

Your attention did feel better, but not enough.

"A little," he said.

"You do want my coat?" You offered, already setting to undoing the buttons set high on the stiff, red and gold fabric neck.

"No, no, don't trouble yourself," Ahk said quickly, unwrapping his arms from himself to shake his hands no.

"That is okay," you said after a moment. "I do not think it would go in your big arms."

"You think my arms are big?" He squeaked out, looking down at his bicep, which had grown slightly more toned after several training sessions.

"Well, you..." you poked his left bicep, "are big."

"How kind of you, Yogasundari," he said with a massive grin, looking down at you like you lit up the sky.

"Shut up," you said as you pushed him away, earning a loud laugh from him.

"What a show you put on," came a voice from behind you. "I'm almost embarrassed to be seen talking to you."

Ahk groaned––externally this time––and turned slowly around, his dull eyes meeting the Prince Rimush's plotting expression.

"Then stop talking to us," Ahk said, setting his left arm around your shoulder and directing the both of you back forward.

"You've got me there," Rimush said and, to Ahk's great dismay, ran to catch up with you and Ahk, standing at Ahkmen's right. "I just can't dismiss how wonderful of a whore you would make."

Ahk shot you an odd look, but you just shrugged.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked with a glare.

"Well, you've got the body for it, and you clearly don't care about showing a little skin," he said, a smirk creeping across his face.

"You know, I don't complain that you're a little brat and that I wish I could subjugate you. Maybe you could do the same," Ahkmen said.

Rimush just laughed, throwing his head of curly, black hair back.

"Who is this man?" You whispered to Ahk while the other was distracted.

"Some idiot I've seen a couple times. He's just a dick."

"I am a Prince, thank you," Rimush interrupted with a cocked brow.

"Okay, Prince Dick," Ahk said, rolling his eyes.

Rimush's mouth fell open as he stared at Ahk, stopping dead in his step. You and Ahk spared him no mercy, and continued forward, leaving the Kassite Prince behind, but only for a moment. He soon ran back up to join you, drawing a heavier-yet groan from Ahkmen.

"Oh come on, don't be like that," he said, hitting Ahk's chest.

"Would you please leave? I'm trying to spend an evening alone with my – my..." Ahk trailed off, his eyes darting to you and back to Rimush.

"Tunae," you suggested, and despite not knowing what the hell you were talking about, he agreed.

"Alright, very well," Rimush said with a long sigh, his shoulders sagging. "But I'd still like to invite you to an event within a few weeks, if you're not too busy... staring at each other."

"Clever," Ahk said flatly.

"It's at Ukani's estate. One of our high priests, a good friend of my father's," the Prince continued.

It took a moment, but the words oh fuck rolled over Ahk's already irritated mind.

"We'll already be there," Ahk said. "We work for the man."

"Oh, wonderful. I hope you're doing some of the dancing, then," Rimush said, and his eyes raked over Ahk again. "I've heard the dancers are dressed in only the finest and thinnest of silks."

"I guess you'll find out," Ahk replied in the same, flat tone.

The two of you, now pressed tightly together, didn't move or speak till Rimush's unkempt locks disappeared down the stairway. At that point Ahk let out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding, and returned his attention chiefly to you.

"He is a prince?" You asked as you picked up your stroll once more.

"Yes, somehow."

"We must be good to him," you said.

"Uh... why?" Ahk asked, wanting to do the exact opposite.

"You said, in Egypt, to go with what the power says, the Kings and that," you said, and his eyes drifted shut.

"I did say that, didn't I," he mumbled.

Now that those conventions weren't upholding his status and were there instead to crush him, well––things seemed a little different on the earth than it did in the clouds, and his thought process worked just the same.

Both of you fell quiet after that, wandering in silence throughout the climbing terraces. Trees of figs, dates, melons, plums, and pears lined the walkway, beside softly running streams pouring their lifeforce into the plants. After several minutes, and a couple floors later, Ahk finally gathered up enough gall to take your hand again. Instantly your fingers tangled into his, and he noted with great pride the smile tugging at the corners of your blushing lips.

The very top of the tower overlooked the whole of the city, from the ziggurats to the outer walls, and to the town-like structures stretching onwards from Karanduniash. The Euphrates continued on endlessly, splitting the land before you in two as wind blew with the force to disrobe you.

People who walked down below were no larger than the ochre dot on your forehead, and moved about as slow as an ant crawling to get to its' hive. Ahk was the only one that could truly watch them, as you were uneasy whenever you leant over the garden's edge, and saw the ground below at a height tall enough to kill you. Instead you crossed you arms, whining whenever Ahk got too close and appeared to be close to falling off.

"Do not be dumb," you said with a frown, your folded arms helping keep your clothes tight to your body.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that," he said, leaning just enough over the sheer cliff to see the terraces built beneath you, and those who stood on the edge just as he did.

"I would like to worry about that, thank you," you said matter-of-factly.

Ahkmen chuckled but relented, returning to your side in the center of the highest floor. Despite the plant's water coming from far below you, the creek still ran through the last terrace, feeding the scant trees and brush that could survive the overbearing winds. The bells of rushing water accompanied him as he took your hands, holding them gentle in his own.

"You know I adore you, don't you?" He said, scanning your expectant eyes.

"What does a door do with this?"

"No, not -" he giggled with warming cheeks, "not a door. Adore. It means to care for something deeply, to admire it in a way."

"Ohhh, yes, I did hear this, I only forgot. Sorry," you said with your own sheepish chuckle.

"No need to apologize. I just want you to remember that."

"What adore is saying?"

"No, that I adore you," he said, and despite his screw-ups rushing blood to his face, he knelt before you to more easily meet your eye.

Looking up to you was a special sort of reverence. His bare knee dug into the fertile earth, his other kept up near his chest as he craned his neck to hold your gaze. You appeared, for a moment, to be entirely quiet, wide eyes staring wordlessly down at him. Even the breath in your chest ceased to move.

In the past, you had bowed before many people––passing Kings and High Priests, masters, and your own family in celebrations for the new year. The view from above was quite different from the one below, and you were allowed movement.

You gently pulled one of your hands out of his hold. His empty hand fell like muslin to his lap, a feeling replicated in warm, tingling sensations when your thumb stroked over his jawline. Eyes fluttered shut once more as he leant into your touch, melting when the whole of your palm rested on his flushed cheek.

"Look at me," you said softly, and Ahk raised his head, opening his eyes. "Know my face."

"I've already memorized it," he replied in a murmur.

#ahkmenrah x reader #Ahkmenrah #Night at the Museum #rami malek #rami malek character #ahkmenrah x female reader #ahkmenrah x male reader

[muertawrites]

Two Halves - Chapter Eleven (Zuko x Reader)

Part Ten

Word Count: 1,550

Author’s Note: This is just a continuation of last week’s chapter with all the important exposition stuff that I didn’t include because 1) I only had the emotional capacity to write something cute and 2) it ended really nicely where it was and I didn’t want to fuck with the flow of things. Some weeks you get fanservice, other weeks you get actual plot. These are the sacrifices we must make in the world of literature. 

~ Muerta

You've been in the palace garden for most of the evening, claiming lightheadedness and a need for fresh air. It's the first time since accepting your responsibilities as Firelady that you've actively avoided them. 

The Sun Warriors’ visit, while it should make you feel more secure in your place, instead drops another weight onto your chest alongside the other stones that press you into the dirt, threatening to crush the life out of you. You're the leader of a broken, foreign nation; the wife of a man with enemies - family members - who want both of you dead. No amount of courage or brash behavior can make you feel like any of it isn’t terrifying, and you can't bring yourself to wear the matching mask, even for a few hours. 

Zuko finds you under one of the garden’s many gazebos, dangling your bare feet over its edge so you can tread in the pond below. He lowers himself beside you, his broad shoulders and towering frame feeling safe and protective next to yours. 

“Katara’s looking for you,” he announces. “I was, too.” 

You smirk at him amusedly, keeping your gaze forward at the lights of the banquet hall peeking between limbs of foliage; they cast reflections onto the gentle ripples of the pond’s surface, shifting and twinkling with the water's movement. The vision puts you at ease, if only for a moment or two. 

“How are you feeling?” Zuko asks. He rests a hand on your knee; you don't take it, but savor the warmth of his palm as he keeps it there. 

“Scared,” you confess. “You’ve had enough trouble undoing the damage propaganda did to the Fire Nation; I don’t think people are going to be too accepting of an outsider telling them their earliest history is completely different than what they believe.” 

“If anyone can convince them, it’s you,” Zuko replies, hardly skipping a beat. “I just had a few government workers who were opposed to our marriage come to me to praise you. They like your bravery. Your willingness to act when you feel you should. Most of us were raised to do the opposite.” 

“They’d never say that to my face, though,” you grumble. 

Zuko chuckles, giving your thigh an affectionate squeeze. 

“They wouldn’t,” he agrees. “But more of them are on your side than they’ll let you believe.” 

“It doesn’t matter whether they say they’re on my side or not. If they don’t act on it, it means nothing.” 

You turn to face him, the admission of your plans resting just behind your teeth. He furrows his brows when he sees your expression, the hand on your lap reaching to clasp one of yours. 

“This isn’t about the Sun Warriors, is it?” he murmurs. 

You shake your head. Your fingers, curled tightly around his palm, squeeze even tighter. 

“No,” you breathe. “Zuko… I’m going to ask Aang to ta-” 

“There you are!” 

Katara’s sudden appearance snaps both of your heads around. You glare without really meaning to, irked at the interruption, and she holds her hands up, taking an apologetic step back. 

“I’m sorry,” she says. “It’s just… this is really important. Can I talk to you?” 

Her eyes are wide, vulnerable - scared. You know the expression well, Katara never having been very skilled at covering her emotions, but rarely have you seen it in such an acute fashion as she wears it now. You nod, your expression softening as you rise, drying your feet on the inner part of your robes. 

“Of course,” you reply. 

You turn back to Zuko, who now stands beside you, and (hoping Katara doesn’t see) lean in to peck his lips - no more committedly than you did before the banquet in your chambers, but the act is no less exhilarating the second time around. 

“I’ll find you later,” you whisper. He nods, reciprocating the kiss with one of his own, pressed tenderly to your forehead. 

To your dismay, Katara is smirking as you join her. 

“So you’re kissing now?” she wonders, though her tone is impish and knowing. 

“People in the South kiss each other all the time,” you contest, trying to dispel her interest. “Don’t act like you’ve never kissed him before.” 

“Not on the lips,” she teases. 

“Our lips barely touched,” you quip. “He’s still just my husband.” 

Katara laughs at your remark, sharing a smile with you that feels refreshingly genuine. She takes you by the arm and leads you back into the banquet hall, skirting around the throngs of people mingling at its center and heading towards a secluded part of the outer corridor; the only guards nearby are several feet away, and she takes your hands, keeping you so close to her that your foreheads nearly brush together. 

“What’s going on?” you ask. You become intensely aware of the weight of Suki’s fan at your waist, tucked into the sash of your robes. 

“Aang and I were going to announce this at the Northern Air Temple,” Katara breathes; you’re relieved when her face brightens with weakly bridled excitement, “but I wanted you to know first. I’m pregnant.” 

You can’t contain the shriek that erupts from your throat, echoing off the corridor’s cavernous walls and ceiling as you jump with delight. 

“Oh, Katara, that’s wonderful!!” you cry, lowering your voice as the guards stationed at either side of the hall alert to your outburst. “But… how do you know?”

“I haven’t had my monthly bleeding in a while,” Katara explains, a massive grin splashed across her lips. “I went to the healers in the South before I left and they said it was likely, and the royal doctor in the palace confirmed it when I got here. We’re having a baby.” 

“Oh, Spirits… congratulations!” 

You throw your arms around her neck, pulling her into a hug which she returns with force; she’s still beaming when you part, your face mirroring hers entirely of its own accord. 

“How do you feel?” you wonder. Your hands cup her face, not wanting her to wander too far from your grasp. 

“I'm terrified,” she tells you. “But… I’ve got Aang. He’s the only person I could ever imagine raising kids with. I'm glad it’s his.” 

“As opposed to who else's?” you jest. Katara gasps, smacking your hands away as she scolds you; you laugh, pulling her into another hug, which she stubbornly doesn't return. 

“I'm so happy for you,” you say once your laughter dies down. 

However, the words don't sound genuine. In the wake of your joy, a tidal wave of woe crashes onto your shoulders. Katara separates herself from you, holding you firmly by the arms with concern. 

“What's wrong?” she presses. 

You shake your head, waving her away - you don't want to ruin her excellent news. 

“It's nothing,” you assure her, forcing a smile. “I'm just really emotional about it.” 

Katara nods, but you can tell she knows you're lying. Ever understanding, however, she doesn't ask any more, instead hugging you again. You hold her as if she's the last protection you have, knowing all too well that you just lost it.

Zuko stands not far beyond the entry to the corridor, waiting for you when you return to the banquet hall; you find him immediately, allowing him to wrap a sheltering arm around your waist as you return to the garden. 

“What is it?” he murmurs once you're alone. He holds you near, hands resting at your hips with his body pressed to yours; your own palms settle themselves on his chest. 

“I asked Rina about Azula,” you answer. “I'm going to ask Aang to take me to her.” 

Zuko inhales sharply, his jaw setting as his grip around you tightens. 

“That's not a good idea,” he mutters. “She's too dangerous. If she's behind any of this, she won't admit it.” 

“Even if she's not, we need her insight,” you propose. “It's been almost four months since Fen was murdered and we still aren't any closer to figuring out who did it or why. And we both know what happened with the Dai Li wasn't random. She’ll have a better understanding of this than any of us could.”

“Let me go with you,” Zuko insists. “Or have someone else talk to her. You don't know what she's like.” 

“I’m the only one of us she doesn't know,” you whisper. “She won't be able to read me. And you know we can't trust anyone else to do it - everyone is a possible threat.”

Zuko searches your eyes, his brow creasing as the corners of his lips bend downward. Your fingers twine within the locks of his hair that lay on his shoulder, running them silkenly between each digit. After a moment, he nods, conceding his hesitation. 

“Be careful,” he pleads. “It wouldn't be above her to use you as leverage.” 

You swallow heavily, wishing you had more of a plan. The truth is, you know nothing about Azula, aside from her reputation as a cold-blooded sociopath with a warped understanding of human emotion; you can't anticipate her motives or truly know what she’ll want from you in return for her perspective. But she's the only hope you have of protecting the people you love. 

“She won't get to me,” you promise him. “She won't get to either of us.” 

📚 table of contents 📚

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#muerta's works #two halves #zuko #zuko x reader #zuko x you #prince zuko #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko x you #firelord zuko #firelord zuko x reader #zuko fanfiction #zuko fanfic #prince zuko fanfiction #prince zuko fanfic #atla fanfiction #atla fanfic #self-insert #self-insert fanfiction #self insert #self insert fic #self insert fanfiction #fanfiction series #slow burn #slow burn fanfic

[callunavulgari]

Scrapbook 2021 | Part II

For anyone that’s new to this, this is how I keep track of all of the things I enjoy and/or create throughout the year. I have literally been doing this since I had a livejournal. I think the first one was 2011? Maybe? In which case, woohoo, ten years of scrapbooking!

It’s a nice little snippet of my life and helps to organize my brain.

A reminder:

Normal font - Indifferent/Neutral Italicized font - Enjoyed bold font - Loved with an asterisk* - All time favorite (bracketed titles) - Re-watches/Re-reads strikethough - Disliked

Goals are: read 80 books (as of today, i am at 31 books, which sounds not great but goodreads assures me that it’s only 1 book behind schedule), finish five video games (at two at the moment... mostly because I keep dragging my feet on actually finishing P5R), write more than 20 fics (at... 6) or something larger than 20k (negative), and write either an original short story or start a novel (i have started plotting for the novel? does that count?)

Past Years

MOVIES

May

Mortal Kombat

(SW: The Phantom Menace)

(SW: Attack of the Clones)

(SW: Revenge of the Sith)

(SW: Rogue One)

(SW: A New Hope)

SW: Clone Wars

Enola

Wonder Woman 1984

Dark Phoenix

(Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring)

June

(Princess Mononoke)

Sailor Moon: Eternal

In The Heights

Wish Dragon

July

Luca

(Thor: Ragnarok)

(Doctor Strange)

(Guardians of the Galaxy)

Black Widow

Space Jam 2 Electric Boogaloo

August

The Green Knight

Godzilla vs Kong

(Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets)

BOOKS

May

These Violent Delights | Chloe Gong [Fin]

The Midnight Library | Matt Haig [Fin]

The Galaxy, and the Ground Within | Becky Chambers [Fin]

Unconquerable Sun | Kate Elliott

People We Meet On Vacation | Emily Henry [Fin]

The Soulmate Equation | Christina Lauren [Fin]

June

Unconquerable Sun | Kate Elliott [Fin]

September Love | Lang Leav [Fin]

One Last Stop | Casey McQuiston [Fin]

The Chosen and the Beautiful | Nghi Vo [Fin]

Lumberjanes, volume 2 | Noelle Stevenson [Fin]

For the Wolf | Hannah Whitten [Fin]

The Sandman | Neil Gaiman [Fin]

Mister Impossible | Maggie Stiefvater

July

Mister Impossible | Maggie Stiefvater [Fin]

TAZ: The Crystal Kingdom | The Mcelroys [Fin]

She Who Became the Sun | Shelley Parker-Chan

A Psalm for the Wild-Built | Becky Chambers

The Universe of Us | Lang Leav

August

She Who Became the Sun | Shelley Parker-Chan [Fin]

A Psalm for the Wild-Built | Becky Chambers

The Universe of Us | Lang Leav [Fin]

Lumberjanes, volume 3 | Noelle Stevenson [Fin]

Lumberjanes, volume 4 | Noelle Stevenson [Fin]

PODCASTS

May

The Penumbra Podcast, s3-END

June

The Magnus Archive - Fear Winners 1 & 2

July

Gods of Appalachia, Eps 1-6

(Wolf 359)

Janus Descending

August

(Wolf 359)

Mabel

(Zero Hours, ep 7)

Time:Bombs

TV SHOWS BY SEASON

May

Watcher Entertainment, Are You Scared?

Castlevania, s3, s4 [Fin]

Word of Honor [Fin]

Buzzfeed: Kelsey in Control?

Demon Slayer, s1

June

Demon Slayer, s1 [Fin]

Kim’s Convenience, s4

Leverage, s5 [Fin]

Watcher: Too Many Spirits, s3

Loki, s1

Lucifer, s2, s3, s4

Trese, s1

(Buzzfeed Unsolved: True Crime, s3, s6?)

(Buzzfeed Unsolved: Supernatural, s1)

Sweet Tooth, s1

Love, Death & Robots

July

Loki, s1 [Fin]

Watcher: Too Many Spirits, s3 [Fin]

Watcher: Dish Granted, s3

Shark Week

Lucifer, s5

Masters of the Universe: Revelation

August

The Owl House, s2

Watcher: Dish Granted, s3

Watcher Weekly+

Buzzfeed: Ruining History

Star Trek Discovery, s1, s2, s3

What If..., s1

VIDEO GAMES

May

Monster Hunter Rise, 12 hours

Mass Effect 1: Legendary Edition, 25 hours

Pokemon Go

June

Mass Effect 1: Legendary Edition, ? hours

Pokemon Go

Animal Crossing: New Horizons, ??? Hours

Persona 5 Royal, ??? hours

July

Persona 5 Royal, 167 hours

Pokemon Go

August

Persona 5 Royal, 167 hours

Pokemon Go

Ori and the Blind Forest [Fin]

DELIGHTFUL FIC

May

The word is help. by spqr | Star Wars | Din/Luke | 9k | In a flash, Fett has his blaster out and pointed at Luke’s head. “You’re right,” he says. “Turnabout’s fair play. So maybe I oughta shoot you.”

Don’t be afraid. by spqr | Star Wars | Obi-Wan/Anakin | 12k | “Padawan Kenobi,” Yoda says, after a moment. “Complete your training, Master Skywalker will.”

who carried the hill by spqr | Star Wars | Din/Luke | 22k | Din’s about to head up the ramp onto the newly-repaired Razor Crest when a string pulls taut around his heart and yanks him into the sky.

Tapestry by spqr | Star Wars | Obi-Wan/Anakin | 8k | In March, Obi-Wan drags Anakin to another faculty party, where Anakin gets all sorts of wrong ideas about Quinlan Vos and decides to fellate Obi-Wan in a coat closet about it.

wonderterror by peradi | Star Wars | Leia/Han/Luke | 6k | Anakin Skywalker is the son of the Force.He’s half human and half something monumental.What does that make his children?

Xen Gardens by denimwrapped | Buzzfeed Unsolved | Ryan & Shane | 1k | Shane Madej saves the day.A strange man comes to congratulate him.

A Series of Better Decisions by SassySnowperson | Star Wars | Padme/Obi-Wan/Anakin | 9k | "Kill him. Kill him now!" Chancellor Palpatine hissed, as Anakin held the two blades against Dooku's neck. "No," Anakin said. "It's not the Jedi way."

Futurus (-a -um) by cadesama | Star Wars | Padme/Anakin/Obi-Wan | 60k | Cracked hyperdrive? No problem. Just hold it together with the Force. Time travel? Well. That could be a bigger problem.

Comfort in Wartime by Rosbridge | Star Wars | Padme/Obi-Wan/Anakin | 4k | Obi-Wan is exhausted, drunk, and just about out of fucks to give.

spark me up, i'm a firework (i'll burst into light) by coffeeinallcaps | FATWS | Bucky/Sam | 7k | "You know how the super-soldier serum makes everything, well, super? I guess you could say that's what happened to my sex drive."

Thaw by spqr | Star Wars | Din/Luke | 6k | That’s what hope does to you, Luke remembers now. It lingers at the back of your mind, whispering maybe, maybe, so that knowing a plan is stupid isn’t enough to keep you from trying it.

Christ in Repose by spqr | Din/Luke | 8k | More on this story as it develops. Subscribe to HNN’s JEDI WATCH newsletter for instant updates on Jedi sightings throughout the galaxy.

Insufferable by perkynurples | Word of Honor | Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu | 3k | Wen Kexing asks a question. Zhou Zishu only hesitates to answer for a little while.

parasitic, parasocial by brawlite | The Untamed | Song Lan/Xiao Xingchen/Xue Yang | 45k | Xue Yang stumbles upon the channel of Fuxue, a popular videogame streamer, and immediately becomes completely and utterly obsessed with him. Unfortunately, Fuxue has a boyfriend -- but that's fine: Xue Yang loves a challenge.

Aaron Burr has Hamilton's RSI and he isn't pleased about it. by DragonBandit | Hamilton | Hamilton/Aaron Burr | 3k | Aaron knows 2 things about his soulmate: The first is that they're angry about everything. The second is that they need to fucking sleep.

dinluke lawyer au by spqr | Star Wars | Din/Luke | 31k | At 1:18 a.m., just when Luke is starting to think he might’ve gotten away with something, Biggs Darklighter shows up on the other side of his desk and says, “I can’t believe you called in sick to get shotgun married to a Mando.”

like, comment, subscribe by DeHeerKonijn, Roselightfairy | Lord of the Rings | Gimli/Legolas | 90k+ | Legolas meets Gimli for lunch - unfortunately, he meets someone else, too.

a jackal; a thief by brawlite | Word of Honor | Wen Kexing/Ye Baiyi | 11k | This is not the first time Wen Kexing’s body has been poisoned like this.

you're the trouble that i always find by sundiscus | Word of Honor | Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu | 27k | “Do you know him?” Jin Wang asks.The ringing in Zhou Zishu's ears gets louder. “No, Wangye,” he says.At Zhou Zishu’s voice, the prisoner freezes.

vampire!wwx threadfic by sundiscus | The Untamed | Wei Wuxian/Lan Wangji | ??? words | in which vampires exist in a modern cultivation au, lwj is investigating a string of strange deaths, and wwx is a vampire he can’t seem to kill.

Velle by DeHeerKonijn, Roselightfairy | LotR | Gimli/Legolas | 29k | Velle (Latin): to want.

June

May All My Wounds Be Mortal by hansbekhart | Word of Honor | Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu | 10k | Peeled out of his many robes, Wen Kexing’s body reveals itself to be mostly leg. He strips eagerly, grinning up at Zhou Zishu as if this is another joke between them. See? Wen Kexing’s body seems to say, I have no secrets from you.

drop by brawlite | The Untamed | Song Lan/Xue Yang | 4k |  Xue Yang has had this dream before.

Splenda by Tierfal | FMA | Ed/Roy | 19k | WIP | A sugar daddy AU that barely even qualifies as a sugar daddy AU, because these two can't do anything right.

From the Ashes by blacktofade | Buzzfeed Unsolved | Shane/Ryan | 3k | “This doesn’t need to leave this room,” Ryan had said that first time. “Casual is my middle name.”

Whale Songs by denimwrapped | Buzzfeed Unsolved | Ryan/Shane | 2k | It could be humming, he thinks. Some distant angelic humming. What it’s humming about, he’d have to find out the hard way. All he can hear in his mind’s ear is come closer. There’s so much more in the depths than you’ve ever known.

A Good Bargain by Neery | Word of Honor | Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu | 11k | The Window of Heaven captures the Ghost Valley's master. Zhou Zishu is put in charge of interrogating him.

So Why Not Crack Your Skull When the Mind Swells by greenteafiend | The Untamed | Lan Wangji/Wei Wuxian | 13k | Or, Wei Wuxian is cursed to feel terrible pain when he and Lan Wangji aren’t touching.

the agony and the irony by arostine | Buzzfeed Unsolved | Ryan/Shane | 44k | WIP |  Ryan has a lot on his plate right now. He’s one of three members of his species employed at BuzzFeed, and the only male omega, and his boss keeps asking him to do videos about being an iterant ‘to educate the humans,’ when what he really wants to do is videos about ghosts.

the rest of your life by bestliars | Buzzfeed Unsolved | Ryan/Shane/Sara | 30k | MYSTERY DISAPPEARANCE IN THE MIDWEST! The year is 2034. Successful video producer Ryan Bergara uproots his whole life to take care of his friend’s children.

sit in my circle and hold my hand by soda_coded | Buzzfeed Unsolved | Ryan/Shane | 14k | Ryan and Shane work for the metaphysical department of the LAPD, fool around and get cursed.

Idle Hands (Do the Devil's Work) by ma_malice | Buzzfeed Unsolved | Ryan/Shane | 4k | In which the only upside to being a demon stuck in a seasonal Chicago snowstorm is the ability to abandon your body and possess your boyfriend in LA.

Shell Game by Giddygeek | The Magicians | Quentin/Eliot | 20k | Or, Quentin can’t believe he never thought to ask if there was a magical time in Fillory when people swapped bodies with the last person they slept with.

Contention by hollybennett123 | Word of Honor | Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu/Ye Baiyi | 3k |  The Zhou Zishu of ten minutes ago, who first agreed to the whole thing — the evening’s conversation and general bickering over drinks taking an unexpectedly filthy turn — had been thinking only about the imminent pounding on offer and not, well, everything else that might come with it.

Necrocafé by etothey | Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon/Harrow | 2k | Harrowhark Nonagesimus isn't sure which confounds her more: the new boxes of bones she is to animate, or the hot redheaded courier who brings the boxes.

simple man by spqr | Loki | Loki/Mobius, Loki/Loki | 6k | “Tell you what,” says Mobius, shortly after the Timekeepers have sentenced Loki to death, “why don’t I take care of this?”

(Un)disclosed desires by Springandastorm | Loki | Loki/Mobius | "That's not how I see you at all, Loki." Mobius said, unexpectedly earnest. "We all play roles sometimes." 

sources of light by brawlite | Word of Honor | Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu | 3k | Zhou Zishu makes a difficult choice in order to save Wen Kexing's life. The morning after is not an easy one.

warm company, cold nights by janonny | Word of Honor | Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu | 23k | He gave Zhou Zishu a lingering look from beneath his lashes. “Your virtuous wife will accompany you of course.”

July

the potential of broken things by icarusinflight | Harry Potter | Drarry | 11k | "Can you feel that? Some things want to be what they once were. The original spell is still there, and it wants to work again. All it takes is a little push and then"—Draco clicks his fingers of his free hand—"snap, everything will go back into place."

little beast by brawlite | The Untamed | Song Lan/Xue Yang | 7k | Payback's a bitch.

you, undeniable you by returnsandreturns | Brooklyn Nine-Nine | Jake/Amy | 1k | “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Jake asks, for the fourth time. “Because we can just ditch that thing, toss it out a window, do it missionary like the founding fathers intended.”

Car Talk by drunkbedelia | Loki | Mobius/Loki | 1k | ‘When I pruned myself, I thought I might be able to find Loki,' Sylvie said.

one too many by sarcasticfishes | Watcher | Ryan/Shane | 1k | “Stay here,” Ryan says, just casual enough, “I’ll drive you home tomorrow.”

Tencent and Chill by quoth_the_ravenclaw | The Untamed | Nie Huaisang/Nie Mingjue | 2k | “Da-ge,” Huaisang whines, all for show, as much a performance as the actors on screen. He wiggles his toes. “My feet are so sore, you worked me too hard.”

The House at the End of the World by Hopetohell | Loki | Loki/Mobius/Sylvie | 1k | What will they do, now that they can do anything?

moderate the middle by ElisAttack | Loki | Loki/Mobius/Sylvie | 9k | People only smiled with their eyes when it was real. Unless they were a Loki. No matter the differences between the variants, their tricky grins were a constant as much as they were indiscernible.

Lost and Sound by snack_size | Loki | Loki/Thor/Sylvie | 5k | “Sylvie, did you help my brother defeat the Time Police?”

push the button (and let me know) by dinosuns | Loki | Loki/Mobius | 5k | “How about this?” hands folded on the table, he watches Loki intently. “If you tell me why, I’ll answer.” 

We're (not) all villains here by sir_not_appearing_in_this_archive | Loki | Loki/Mobius/Sylvie | 19k | WIP | Alone and friendless (once again), Loki has to find a way to set things right, or at least right enough he can comfortably sneak off into the sunset, which starts with one thing: saving Mobius's lost memories.

what remains by dinosuns | Loki | Loki/Mobius | “You’re no analyst.” Mobius sounds stunned. They are not aligned, they are not in tandem. But there are wistful glimmers of what is now agonisingly out of reach.

worth a shot by thereyoflight | Loki | Loki/Sylvie | 2k | When Loki and Sylvie are moments away from being cornered on the train in Lamentis, they resort to desperate measures.

Bug Problems by xorabbit | Marvel | Grandmaster/Loki | 7k |  Loki ends up on Sakaar, of course, with just that many more schemes to scheme. However, the Grandmaster is not altogether too terrible--a bit of fine luck, for once--and perhaps it's all right to have a better-natured fling while one works out what's next.

our way, no takebacks by dinosuns | Loki | Loki/Mobius | 20k | "Nice speech," Sylvie drawls, but the sarcasm doesn't land.

August

Vennen min by spqr | Loki | Loki/Mobius | 12k | The day they let Mobius out of the infirmary, Loki gets assigned to a new handler. This, Mobius is pretty sure, is where the trouble starts.

new terms by dinosuns | Loki | President Loki/Mobius | 21k | For the first time in his life, Loki triumphs. How fitting then, for the end to swiftly barge in unannounced.

Icarus by Waako | Loki | Loki/Mobius | 5k | When Mobius got pruned, he expected two different outcomes. Either eternal peace or eternal emptiness. He certainly didn’t expect a grey sky, ruins of old buildings looming over him, and a Loki variant watching him like he was a piece of fresh meat.

Stress Relief by spqr | Loki | Loki/Mobius | 3.5k |  “Let me read you something,” Loki says. He rifles through the pages, clears his throat, and Mobius puts a hand over his eyes because he knows what’s coming before Loki even reads the first word—“Pēdīcābō ego vōs et irrumābō—“

just like the weather by sarcasticfishes | BFU | Shane/Ryan/Sara | 6k | “Y’know,” Ryan shrugs. “Friends have kids together sometimes. Like if a same-sex couple has a friend surrogate for them. Or sometimes people just co-parent.”

Woodash and iron and leather by iffervescent | The Witcher | 9k | Jaskier is the only person Geralt's ever been around who doesn't smell of fear

Food of Love by tanktrilby | The Witcher | Geralt/Jaskier | 22k | I brought a dead princess back to life through the power of song is the kind of thing that would have got an eyebrow raise even from the stone-faced Geralt of Rivia, so it's a good thing he and Geralt will probably never see each other again.

If The Morning Light Sets In by nagia | Castlevania | Sypha/Trevor/Alucard | 45k | Save the Belmonts, save the world.

halfway by ivelostmyspectacles | Castlevania | Sypha/Alucard/Trevor | 12k | Vampire attacks are happening again. Unprovoked, strange, humans and vampires dying alike. A disease. Alucard assures them that he isn't susceptible.

lonely lonely heart by spqr | Loki | Loki/Mobius | 7k |  Mobius looks down at the paperwork, gets a sort of flustered farmboy look on his face, looks back up at Loki and says, “You offered to give a cop fellatio in the middle of Central Park.”

Bedrest by Lise | The Untamed | Xiao Xingchen& Xue Yang | 3k | Xiao Xingchen's newest patient is causing him problems. He just won't stay put.

too little, too late. by raisesomehale | Miraculous Ladybug | Adrien/Marinette | 6k | WIP |  “Ladybug.” Chat’s voice cuts in like molten steel.

DELIGHTFUL FANVIDS

May

Jesper Fahey | 99 Problems

Jesper Fahey | OLD TOWN ROAD

Kaz & Inej | I Can't Pretend

human | kaz brekker

bucky barnes || humble

The Mandalorian || Warriors

The Mandalorian | I'll See You Again

Hope is the light.

►Zhou Zishu & Wen Kexing | Beautiful mess

Kaz & Inej | I Can't Pretend

versailles at night | alina & the darkling

look what you made me do | the darkling

Bucky Barnes | Rasputin

Obi-Wan || dirty work

Blood in the water [the Witcher]

MARVEL || Astronaut in the Ocean

Enola Holmes || Unstoppable

Shadow & Bone || Fire Meets Fate

Mo Dao Zu Shi Season 3 AMV/Trailer - Teeth

Kylo Ren | STAR WARS

June

MARVEL || Rasputin

MARVEL || Astronaut in the Ocean

i dont enjoy hurting people | Loki [1x01]

loki laufeyson • unsteady [⚠ 1x01]

MARVEL || Levitating

Shadow & Bone | Paint It Black

Glitter & Gold | Jesper Fahey

Shadow and Bone | Levitating

wen kexing ✘ zhou zishu | put your lips on mine

Erik Lensherr - Magneto

The Crows || Circus

The Crows | Thrift Shop (Shadow & Bone)

Zemo & Bucky — RASPUTIN [tfatws]

Cruella | Feeling good

Percy Jackson || Watch Me

THE KILLING KIND || The Magnus Archives Animatic

LOKI || Glorious Purpose

The Darkling | Black Heretic

Sam x Bucky || Handclap [HUMOR]

Loki || Lovely

Doctor Strange || Dystopia

Loki & Sylvie || I’m not your friend

Loki || Hate Me

MARVEL || River

Loki & Bucky || Paint It Black

Wanda Maximoff || The Scarlet Witch (WandaVision)

Play With Fire || MARVEL || Loki Doctor Strange Scarlet Witch

MARVEL || Warriors

Loki || God of Mischief || You Do You

(Marvel) Loki | You Will Never Be A God

Marvel's Horror Cinematic Universe

community gardens || the magnus archives PMV

July

Thor || Rise

Loki & Sylvie - Demons in my head [ep.3]

//HUMANS// THE MAGNUS ARCHIVES

Loki | Lost

A Quiet Place

Loki & Sylvie || Strange Birds

Loki & Sylvie "I won't let you down" | (+1x05)

♚ Loki & Sylvie | If You Love Me (1x04)

Loki & Sylvie | If our love is wrong [Loki +1x04]

Loki and Mobius | Hold On [Loki +1x05]

loki laufeyson • in the end [+ 1x04]

Loki and Sylvie || Feeling Good

Marvel || Black Widow - Counting Stars || Natasha Romanoff 

Cruella || Little Wicked

MARVEL || This is My Time || Shang-Chi Trailer Music

Sylvie | Unstoppable (Loki +1x03)

Loki and Sylvie (Lady Loki) || Play With Fire

Wanda and Vision || Dancing With Your Ghost

Wanda Maximoff and Loki || You Should See Me In A Crown

Loki and his Variants ⚔ King of Space [ep.5]

Loki & Sylvie ❤ This world is slowing down [ep.5]

Sylvie || Confident (+1x04)

•Loki x Sylvie ⱠΞⴼ King and Queens•

Loki - In The End | Marvel

Loki & Sylvie ❤ Out of Control [ep.4]

Loki & Mobius | Dynasty [LOKI/+1x04]

Loki & Sylvie ❤ Love War [ep.6]

(Marvel) Loki | Glorious Purpose

(MARVEL) Loki | Chaos

Loki | In The End [+1X06]

Loki x Sylvie | Another Love

Loki & Sylvie | Arcade [ Loki +1x06]

MARVEL || The Assembled Universe (c/w ASTrix UI)

August

Natasha & Yelena || Do It Like A Dude

Black Widow || Smells Like Teen Spirit

MARVEL || Uptown Funk

MARVEL || 1 in a Million

MARVEL/DC || Dies Irae

Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness TRAILER #1

MARVEL || Loki 

DELIGHTFUL MUSIC

May

The Wild One - Suzi Quatro

What’s So Funny ‘Bout - Sharon Van Etten

Levitating - Dua Lipa

The Underground - Meg Myers

You Won’t Find Me - Narrow Skies

Elixir of Life - Leah

Salt and the Sea - The Lumineers

ERROR - Niki, Kradness

Runaway - AURORA

Butterfly Water - Pastelle

Close to the Sun - Porcelain Pill

Selkie-boy - The Lost Words

Good Riddance - Annapantsu

Die Anywhere Else - Julia Henderson

Heat Waves - Glass Animals

Down - St Vincent

Word of Honor OST

Welcome to the Pleasuredome - Frankie Goes to Hollywood

Shy Away - Twenty One Pilots

Follow You - Imagine Dragons

I’m Not That Girl - Kerry Ellis

Meant to be Yours - Ryan McCartan

Ex Wives - Six

Euphoria - BTS

Walls - Cher

96,000 - In the Heights

Sun Goes Down - Lil Nas X

Enough For You - Olivia Rodrigo

Brutal - Olivia Rodrigo

Ziti E Buoni - Maneskin

Shum - Go_A

Loco Loco - Hurricane

Space Ghost Coast to Coast - Glass Animals

The Horror and the Wild (whole album - The Amazing Devil

Chant - Hadestown

Titans - Major Lazer, Sia

Bones - Galantis

Golden Dandelions - Barns Courtney

Le Nozze di Figaro - Hybrid

Save Your Tears - The Weeknd

Psycho - Post Malone

Gold Lion - Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Close to Me - Ellie Goulding

And So It Went - The Pretty Reckless

help herself - bbno$

Fire For You - Cannons

Twist the Knife - Chromatics

He Said She Said - Chvrches

Face Down - The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus

Campus - Vampire Weekend

Your Power - Billie Eilish

Reach - Eternal Eclipse

1 Last Cigarette - The Band Camino

Insertion - Hans Zimmer

from the edge - fictionjunction

The Devil Is a Gentleman - Merci Raines

Meet Me In The Woods - Amarante

Fire - Saint Mesa

Smells Like Teen Spirit - Saint Mesa

Appetite - Casey Edwards

All Things Devour - aeseaes

Throne - Saint Mesa

Witchcraft - Vian Izak

June

The Shrine / An Argument - Fleet Foxes

It’s Tricky - Run

Darjeeling - Barrie

Hollywood Forever Cemetery Sings - Father John Misty

Picture Me Better - Weyes Blood

Loch Lomond - Mackenzi Tolk

Punta - Matzzy

Touch It Clean - DJ Raulito

Oh No - Kreepa

Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land - Marina

Sofia - Askjell

The Boy - Shannon & the Clams

First Steps - Lena Raine

The Power of Balance Rearranged - Rush Garcia

And So My Heart Became a Void - Ursine Vulpine

Paper Mache - Iris Lune

Catch Me If You Can - Desert Belle

Darkroom Double - Moon & Pollution

Serotonin - girl in red

In the Air Tonight - Natalie Taylor

When Your Heart Is a Stranger - Friends In Paris

Moon Effect - Sailor Moon Eternal OST

In A Black Out - Hamilton Leithauser

Forever - CHVRCHES

Way Less Sad - AJR

Helter Skelter - Detention

The Devil You Know - X Ambassadors

TVA - Natalie Holt

Honeybee-The Head and the Heart

Home All Summer - Anthony Ramos

In the Shadows - Amy Stroup

My Way - Lucifer Cast

In the Air Tonight - Jon Howard

The Beast - Old Caltone

The Beast - Delta Rae

Freak Like Me - Adina Howard

Only the Good Die Young - Billy Joel

Winds of Change - Scorpions

good 4 u - Olivia Rodrigo

If I Could See The World - Patsy Cline

Ends of the Earth - Lord Huron 

The Killing Kind - Marianas Trench

Bones - Wens

Kiss Me More - Doja Cat

How Not to Drown - CHVRCHES

July

Dark Moon - Bonnie Guitar

Free Smiles - Tia Ray

Sundown Blues - Joanna Levine

Citta Vuoto - Mina

If You Love Me - Brenda Lee

Very Full - Tom Hiddleston

Loki Green Theme - Natalie Holt

Wrecked - Imagine Dragons

The Wolves - Cyrus Reynolds

Cure For Me - Aurora

Theory of Light - Eternal Eclipse

Fate of the Clockmaker - Eternal Eclipse

Potential Breakup Son - Aly and AJ

transparent soul - travis barker

My Love Will Never DSie - AG, Claire Wyndham

Happy Together - King Princess

Atomise - Temple

Darkside - Oshins

Someone to Watch Over Me - Lucifer Cast

This is Ours - Peter Sivo

Love and War - Fleurie

Take Me To Church - MILCK

Devil I Know - Allie X

East of Eden - Zella Day

Shadow Preachers - Zella Day

Losing My Religion - BELLSAINT

Hard to Kill - Beth Crowley

Dark Side - Blind Channel

Tanz Mit Mir - Faun

My Jolly Sailor Bold - Ashley Serena

Stuttering - Fefe Dobson

August

Monsters and Fairies - Savannah

Chosen - SVRCINA

IAN HA 3BYK - GO A

Freya - Verdandi

Sick on Seventh Strett - Sarah and the Safe Word

Tarah - Sae Sae Norris

Suspicion - Sherwood Roberts

Fjorgyn - Osi and the Jupiter

Fight to Make It Up - Takenobu

The Edge of Dawn - Rozen

Innocence - Cannon Diviision

A Stray Child - .Hack//Sign

The Kiss - Luigi Rubino

Any Kind of Dead Person - Ghost Quartet

The Great Unknown - Dominique Gilbert

Smells Like Teen Spirit - Saint Mesa

over the rainbow - misterwives

Fireflies - Cullen Vance

My mother Told Me - Nati Dreddd

Athetosis - Crywolf

Major Tom - Shiny Toy Guns

Novacaine - 10 Years

Right Here Right Now - Jesus Jones

NDA - Billie Eilish

Trouble’s Coming - Royal Blood

Completing the Circle - Gareth Coker

There’ll Always Be Another Monster - Brian D’Oliveira

POSTED FIC

May

take my hand and i'll drown you with me | Star Wars | Rey & Ben Solo | 2,157 words |  “You brought this upon yourself,” the creature told her, its voice serene.

June

keeping me restless and whole | Loki | Loki/Mobius | 1,584 words | Mobius was very young when he encountered his first Loki.

July

feed me lies until i'm dead | Loki | Thor/Loki | 3,476 words | “Don’t you think we should talk about it?” Thor asks.

the ghost of us can linger here | Loki | Loki/Mobius/Sylvie | 4,432 words | “So, how do you crazy kids want to do this?” Mobius asks them in a stage whisper, mouth twitching. At her back, Loki laughs, burying the sound against the curve of her neck.

there's a whisper in my bones | Loki | Loki/Mobius/Sylvie | 2,794 words |  “All right,” she says. “Fine. Let’s make things more interesting. Take off your clothes.”

east of eden | Loki | Loki/Mobius/Sylvie | 2,202 words |  “How long have you been fucking him?”  Mobius asks, stroking his fingers against the place where leather meets skin.

Triptych in C Minor | Loki | Loki/Mobius/Sylvie | 1,647 words | Pt 1 | There is a house at the end of time, past the last storm, pushed up against the very edge of the unknown. It is a castle, a manor, a fortress - all depending on who inhabits it. But one thing that it never is, is a home.

August

N/A

WIPS | UNPUBLISHED | ORIGINAL

May

2k of Reylo mermay fic

June

N/A

July

1k+ of Xue Yang being a slut for Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen

300 words of vampire Song Lan

7k of Green Knight AU

August

10k of Green Knight AU

1.5k of hair dye shenanigans

FANMIXES/GRAPHICS

May

yearning: a playlist for the heart

June

the chosen and the beautiful: a mix for jordan baker

July 

kings & queens of the ruckus: a mix for loki and sylvie

August

N/A

#heather says what #heather writes #scrapbook #2021

[talesofealdancynedom]

Asada Fauxbit, in fairy robes with familiar; riding a “giraffe, but with malice”

Tale 19: Meriam Craweleoth: Mage Queen of The Grand West (chapter 7.1 - Has Yet to Pass 7/10) part 4. Stories of Old

Maps

Harsh Language

Upon the western mountains of the Far East, lies the Sinoian wall of fire. The mountains between the great desert, and the temperate lush kingdom. Due south of that, where the climate is soft by the sea, lies a very unlucky fishing town. To the south west, in Indonia of the Central South, lies the Monkey Gate within the heart of a cursed jungle.

           Five aligned nations, out of ten, only created half a circle around Francia; Meriam needed more alliances to make the world get along. But Francia was between Anglia and the rest of the world. The North Central kingdom, was like the hole of a donut. A donut that was bribing allies in Indonia to it’s south, and Sinionia to it’s East. Meriam would need the favor of the sultan of the South Central to guarantee a safe passage to eastern lands. She took her men with her, to meet this powerful man in his jungle palace. They traveled safely through the Westlands of Dania, to get to the South Central. Once in the ivory, pearl, marble and oak home, the sultan spoke down to her. He sat on a silk pillow, surrounded by sari drapes, wearing bangles and slippers. The sultan was quick to insult Meriam, by tasking her with an impossible quest. He did not care that she was a mage or a queen. If she wanted the trust of Indonia, Meriam must understand that people in this country are cheats, and that the secret to Indonia’s heart, lies in an alliance with Sinonia first.

“Appease the emperor on the other side of the desert, with a grand gesture, and I will mark your papers; Mage Queen. Offer me something greater than our northern neighbors do.” Th sultan said, playing with his silver beard. “You will find guides outside the cursed jungle of Veya.” He chuckled. Meriam felt frustrated; She was asked to do an unspecified favor, for an unknown man, after crossing Ealden Cyendom’s central desert.

“Fuck.” She murmured.

           As Meriam and her company traveled to the Monkey Gate, they began to remove clothing; it was far hotter than any land they had been to thus far. The humidity made it sticky, and the rain’s slowed their passage. When Meriam and her men arrived at the small village, they began to look for someone who spoke their language, that may guide them. Their investigation was fruitless; and they paid good silver to sleep on weaved mats in and uninsulated stone shack. The doors and shutters were made of intricately carved wood, that resembled lace patterned in lotuses and peacocks. They did little to keep out the rain; but did keep back the wildlife and wind. The fruit and nuts they bought were delicious, as was the fresh rain water; but they began to miss home. This may be, the longest journey they will have to embark on.

           In the sticky, hot, humid night, while Meriam and her men struggled to sleep, they heard someone enter their room. They sounded like they were trying to be quiet, which resulted in them making even more noise. The sliding wood window creaked, and they heard the clink of bangles, and knocking over of pots and baskets; followed by very familiar Anglian cussing. Then, Meriam suddenly rose summoning fire in her palm, as her men drew swords at the intruder; Who was now in the middle of the room. To their surprise, it was an Indonian woman with pale golden eyes and hair against, her brown skin. She wore a scarf about her head that was a translucent tan, that glittered like her clothes, in pin stripes. She had her nose pierced as well as her ears, which held elaborate gold rings that matched the innumerable bracelets she wore about her wrists and feet. She was built like a knight, under the glittering fabrics of her Monkey kingdom fairy robes. Upon her shoulder, she had a marmoset. The robes hung in an ex across her shoulder and breast, and she wore gold armour to link the loose fabric. Her pants were baggy, her sash wrapped and left a fabric tail at her back, and her curled slippers matched perfectly. Meriam wanted badly to draw her; for she had never seen a mage of this kingdom.

She was stealing their fruit.

“You spoke in Anglian just now!” Meriam said. The woman was surprised, and looked Meriam up and down, with a mango in her mouth. Then she also held out a palm of fire. Magic. This must be the mage of the Monkey Gate.

In order to share magic, and teach it, mages use the language and letters of Anglia, as few other peoples know the language well. This meant they found a translator; but not a guide. More pressingly, they had an intruder.

“Who are you!” a knight demanded.

“I am Asada Fauxbit.” She said, chewing her bite of fruit. “Who the fuck are you?” She contested.

“We are the queen of Anglia’s royal guards; we need to cross the desert to Sinonia, to impress their emperor with a grand gesture of peace. We need the favor of his kingdom, to win the heart of this one. So, we are told. Anglia and other lands need as many lands as possible united, to restore balance.”

“You got so conned, miss raven mage.” Asada smirked, examining Meriam’s feather and velvet fairy robes. “Indonia don’t give a shit about other kingdoms. The Sultan is putting on a front to extort Francia’s bribes.” Asada laughed. The knights all drooped in defeat, and sheathed their weapons.

“Also, that mission sounds so awful; I pity you. I’ll make you a bargain: Find me a mage husband, so I can produce a mage daughter to protect this cursed magic forest, and I’ll come with you and provide guides to cross the fields of fire. Just to be sure, this is to help you do this thing you think will work, for this person, that is somewhere.” Asada teased. It became apparent that the sultan had actually given Meriam no information at all; his instructions were vaguer then being asked: can’t you not put that thing there maybe? Meriam rolled her eyes. She wasn’t a quitter.

“Are you conning me? You’re willing to take us across a desert in exchange for magic seed donor? That’s all?”

“Yup. Preferably Sinonian in ethnicity, with blue hair, and an aura of chaotic silliness.” Asada mused.

“But why?!” one of Meriam’s men asked.

“My bloodline is cursed by the Monkey King, because of my mom. The Monkey King is a lady who likes a matriarchy, and her children shrouded in mystery and isolation. My mom said she’d raise me to keep the gate open, and tend the monkey fey; as I was a mage. In exchange the Monkey king promised to provide a protective curse on the jungle. The Monkey King said that a line of pure-bred mage daughters, must be the ones guarding her gate. Starting with me. A cursed magic bloodline, in exchange for safety. Oh, also, If I leave the forest for any reason other then looking for a groom, I kind’a die.” Asada explained casually. While she explained the curse, Meriam racked her brain of mages she knew. And she knew of many. But, when Asada said blue hair, she membered one of Feon’s books. It was the teal journal detailing types of mages; and the illustration for the storm breaker mage, was a Sinonian man of blue ridding an Orca. Sirulius Healpenbroc; a warlock who made storm staphs, like Feon’s. And possibly joy induced natural disasters. This was a bargain Meriam could make.

“If your determined to be another dame, pigeon holed into relying on men for events in your life, I may have heard of a suitable man, south east of the desert, in Sinonia.” Meriam grumbled.

“Pigeon holed? What if I want kids and a nice guy to hold me? What if I want to protect my magic forest home and fey friends? I can do both! Cursed or not, it’s my life and choice; as a mage I have more choice than any lady in this land. And I chose a man of the Grand East who can fulfill my feminine desires.” Asada boasted. “Wait? You seem madder about me willing to abide by this curse, then going across a desert called the fields of fire. Who hurt you?” Asada inquired. Meriam glared at her; She was a queen surrounded by demanding men. Five of them were with her right now. Of course, she was rabid with envy. Happily, wed or not, Meriam would have at least of liked the choice. Her knights wisely chose not to comment.

           Coincidences can make a day. Exact change, or meeting an old friend at a market: things sliding perfectly into place is satisfying. The only trouble is that these moments are rare, and you never know when one is going to happen. If you are looking for one, it’s like watching water boil. Speaking of boiling, the desert earned its name; The Fields of Fire. Though Asada and Meriam could alchemize water, and they had all gotten loose white clothes, the desert felt eternal in it’s unrelenting discomfort; like a socially obligatory holiday gathering with collogues. The expanse of dry nothingness, resulted in there being little else to do, but talk to your road companions. The guides Asada found where merchants, who regularly crossed the desert. They did not know a word of any other language; which seemed counterintuitive for efficient trade. Meriam was on a long road of days of travel upon stinking spiteful camels with a group of knights, and Asada.

Meriam admired how unbothered Asada was. Her men wouldn’t stop complaining about how they feared the desert would consume them before they could ravish a Sinonian maidens, and drink rice wine till uncoordinated. Meriam was too sober to talk to human males, and was forced to talk to Asada.

“What are these animals?” Meriam asked looking over her camel.

“Giraffes; but unkindly.” She laughed smugly. Meriam was confused; she didn’t know what a giraffe was either.

“Do you hawk? You have tiny falcon on your shoulder? Also, didn’t catch your name.”

“My name Queen Meriam Craweleoth. I do not hawk, this is my familiar Nihten; she is a kestrel. You have been seeing me send her off to see where we are. I meld with her to use her eyes. As well as make her big enough to ride if I have to.”

“Neat. So, where are we? According to Nithen?”

“Nowhere.” Nihten said. Gave everyone a good chuckle. To distract from their discomfort, Meriam’s entourage listened in on the two mages conversation; and then began butting in.

“Are there fey in the desert? If magic is less frail then men?” one asked.

“Oh yes. There are many basilisks and drakes in the sand. I heard once of one who was disowned by the dragon king for breaking a sphere at a banquet. If we convince him to let us cross a river, he might accompany us on our journey to the west.” Asada said. Meriam looked confused; she was lost in the second half. They were going to the east. Asada’s smiles faded into bitterness.

“That was a joke. The dragon king would never disown a child nor make one capable of guiding people.”

“We rode dragons once!” another knight said. “You must have spent too long in your forest, monkey girl; I’m not sure you even know what magic this desert holds.”

“Ah, but I do. It holds desert magic; obviously. Now stop complaining, and telling me I’m wrong, or I’ll summon my Iron staph to knock some sense into you. It matches the Monkey King’s; who is also a woman not opposed to striking things. Your men are idiots Merriam! No wonder your sexist. Are all Anglian men this daft?” Asada exclaimed.

“Actually, their very loyal, talented, and make sure my husband’s mind is sound whilst I quest. They are made of the finest fibre Anglia can provide, by order of my King husband.” Meriam said proudly. “Intelligence is not a factor in determining their value as people.” She added. Her knights smiled proudly upon their grumbling ‘steads’.

“So, you hate being controlled by people, sorry men, but you still accepted your betrothal to the king? then gave him a child, and take his men, sorry your men, with you, just to make him happy? You knew you were a mage and could have used magic to evade them, right? Your ungrateful; I would love to live in a palace and have someone who takes care of me, supports me, and loves me for being myself! And you judge me for wanting that!”

“Shut up, I love him! And love is powerful,” Meriam snapped. “and no; I don’t judge you for wanting a romanticized version of reality you use to cope with being cursed into heteronormativity. I judge you for talking like a drunk, and pulling my leg. It is about respect and freedom. I am equal, if not above, the men I meet.” Merriam snapped.

Asada looked off into the desert. She was nodding quietly while refraining from laughter. Meriam wondered what was worse; Asada, questioning the motivations of all her life choices, the desert, the malicious giraffe, or how she had complimented Tiberias’s architecture. She felt a little faint. Meriam began to hate Asada for ripping apart the meaning in her life. Meriam looked away in distaste.

“Must be nice to love someone so much, you throw away your philosophy to kiss them goodnight… Before I knew I was cursed, as only a child, when I saw the people in the village, all I lusted for was to hold even one of their hands. I want that Meriam; I want someone to be with, that makes me feel like nothing else matters.” Asada said into the sands. The morale went down as they clomped across the bright dune. Meriam never wanted to be in this arid wasteland again.

NEXT--->

<---PREVIOUS

#art #tales of ealdan cynedom #fantast #short stories #fantasy #meriam #nihten #asada #sirulius

[justthehiddleswrites]

Silken Sails Masterlist  | OFC x Multiple Marvel Characters | Pirate AU | Chapter 2 | The Legend of  El Hombre de Hierro

Summary:  Charlotte Liddell dreams of a life of adventure on the high seas.  She sets sail for the Caribbean which ends up entangling her with the hunt for the lost Spanish ship Viuda Negra and untold Spanish treasures.  Along the way, she crosses paths with British Navy Officer Steve Rogers and famed French pirate Loki Laufeyson.  Will she keep her wits about her?

This Chapter:  Charlotte has settled into life aboard the Hawk with Clint. After the death of the ship’s cook, Charlotte takes over duties as cook. The ship changes course to hunt for the treasure of La Viuda Negra and the famed Spanish pirate, Antonio Áspero. But they are not the only ones looking and they encounter the French pirate, Loki Laufeyson. How will Charlotte fare?

Warnings: violence, death of characters, sexual harassment, smut (sex), mentions of pregnancy, pirate typical violence

-

Life at sea was not what Charlotte expected. She wasn’t sure what she expected, but she didn’t expect to be heaving overboard every ten minutes. This continued for the better part of a week before Clint took pity upon her and gave her a spicy tasting root to chew on, soothing her stomach.

Once she got her “sea legs”, Charlotte spent most of her days exploring the ship. In particular where the cook stayed and prepared the day’s food. She was most comfortable in a kitchen of any sort and for another. The cook was the only man besides Clint who didn’t leer at her at every opportunity.

“Ignore them, my dear.” Clint offered when she brought it up one evening.

“It is hard to ignore ten sets of eyes boring right to your soul.”

“You must try.” Clint kissed her forehead. “They would never lay a hand on you with me on board.”

Charlotte squirmed at the thought. “I am certain but I still notice them undressing me with their eyes.”

“Rid your head of these notions. If their stares bother you so, perhaps you would prefer to stay away from prying eyes?”

“Where you suggest I stay?”

“The ship’s kitchen might work. The cook is half blind. And the rest of the men avoid it.”

Charlotte smiled. “I like the sound of that.”

Clint smiled back. “I like when you are happy. I hope you are as happy when we arrive at Port Royal.”

She stifled a shudder. Charlotte found her unexpected betrothal unsettling. She left Bristol to find adventure, not a husband and a life of keeping house and tending to children. She would need to find a way out of the arrangement, but for now her priority was to survive the voyage.

-

“Here is how I would use the salt pork.” the old man explained as he chopped the meat and slid it into the big pot.

Charlotte sat in awe as the half blind cook worked miracles with the modest food aboard ship. Crandall was the cook’s name and the amount of knowledge far outstripped anything she learned at her mother’s skirts. She spent every day learning from him.

“And this—” Crandall opened up a cloth to cough into. “will add the flavor.” He sprinkled a powder over the stew.

“And you sure you are well, Crandall?” Charlotte inquired. She seen enough back home to realize what was happening.

“Right as rain, love.” Crandall lied. “Now stir until bubbling.”

Within the week Crandall was dead, his body tossed overboard. And Charlotte took over the duties of the ship’s cook. The men soon started hanging out around the kitchen more and more.

“If I had realized the view was so nice, I would have stepped in here a long time ago.” A man called Mullins commented.

He ran his hand up Charlotte’s sleeve. She wore the breeches and shirts of a man with her dark auburn hair tied up behind he. Charlotte found her skirts cumbersome on the ship.

Charlotte slammed a hand down on the table. “Can I help you with anything?”

His lips curled to a smile, exposing his yellowed teeth. “Many things, love, but we would need to rid you of these…” He tugged at the shoulder of her shirt as he leaned on the table. “… garments.”

In a flash, Charlotte grabbed the knife and thrust it into the tabletop, centimeters away from Mullins’s hand. She turned around and landed a knee to his groin. “My garments shall stay where they are. And I suggest if you like to keep your body parts where they are, you steer clear of me.”

Mullins backed away in a hurry. From then on, the men avoided the kitchen and Charlotte. The weeks dragged on, and she settled into a routine, cooking by day and listening to Clint tell stories at night.

“The men are talking.” she muttered one night as she changed for the night.

“About what?” Clint pulled the blankets back.

“They say we changed course. That we are going on the search for something.”

“Have you ever heard of Antonio Áspero?”

She shook her head. “No… Is that some sort of pirate?”

“Only the most feared Spanish pirate to sail the Caribbean. The stories say he wore a metal plate under his clothes in battle. It earned him the nickname El Hombre de Hierro or Iron Man.”

Charlotte settled underneath the blankets. “And why would we change course because of him?”

“His last voyage was to deliver the dowry of a Spanish noblewoman to the Carolinas. They say the dowry’s worth rivaled the Crown Jewels. But the ship disappeared in a storm off the shore of an uncharted island. The men think they have found the location of that island in a logbook.”

Clint pulled out a folded piece of paper and showed it to Charlotte. “This logbook speaks of an island of wrecked ships not far off of the intended course of Antonio’s ship.”

He folded the paper again and tucked back into the pouch around his neck. “A treasure that great is too much for any man to pass up.”

Charlotte settled against Clint’s chest. His even breath soothing her. “Tell me more about Antonio Áspero.”

She drifted off to sleep in Clint’s arms that night, hearing of the tales of the Spanish pirate and his ship La Viuda Negra.

-

Charlotte woke to the ship rocking and rumbling. She dressed and ran up to the deck. A fog settled low on the water. The men scuttled about the deck as Charlotte stood dumbfounded. Clint bumped against her shoulder, carrying a bow and arrow.

“We are under attack, love!” He yelled. “Hide in the galley. If they capture you, tell them you’re Charles Liddell, the ship’s cook.” He kissed her and shoved the pouch into her hand. “Keep this safe.”

She nodded as she headed under deck and Clint climbed one of the masts, weapon in hand. Charlotte shut the door behind her and moved a barrel in front of the door. There was rumbling and cracking of wood. The entire ship threatened to tip from the shaking. A great boom shook the ship as the mainmast fell from a grapeshot. Then silence.

Charlotte backed up against the wall. The sound of voices muffled by the wooden planks of the decks above. The door rattled as someone on the other side of the door tried to open it.

She cowered in a corner and ducked her head as the wooden door splintered, and two men stepped through the door.

“What do we have here?” the taller man said as he caught sight of Charlotte in the corner.

“Oi, boy!” the other man with a scraggly beard gestured for her to step out.

Charlotte scrambled to her feet and pulled up to her full height.

“What’s your name, boy?” Tall Man asked.

“Charles Liddell. I’m the ship’s cook.” She recited just as Clint told her to.

“Young to be a cook.” Scraggly Beard said to Tall Man.

“The former cook died some weeks back. I took over duties.” She summoned all her courage. She prayed her true identity was not found out.

“Take him up on deck. Captain’s orders.”

Scraggly Beard grabbed her by the scruff of her shirt and dragged her out of the room with Charlotte’s feet scrambling for purchase on the floor. Once on deck, she was tossed towards the rest of the crew. Charlotte looked around for Clint, but there was no sign of him. Her heart sank.

“Gentleman…” a rich voice cut through the noise on deck. “… I am search of a specific item.”

The pirates parted to allow the man that Charlotte can only guess would be the captain to address them. Charlotte’s breath caught in her throat. The captain was breathtaking, with a long black and green coat and long raven hair falling upon his shoulders. Charlotte had never seen such a handsome man.

“Can anyone help me?” he grinned as he nodded at one of his crew grabbed the nearest Hawk crew member and dragged him to his feet. “You look like an enterprising fellow.” The captain’s lips curled into a devilish smile. “Can you help me find a logbook?”

The man, Nelson his name, paled. “All the logs are in the captain’s quarters!” he screeched. “I don’t know anything more Captain Loki!”

Loki’s head dropped. “Pity.” He raised a hand to the man holding Nelson by the arm. That man raised his knife and slit Nelson’s throat with no warning. Charlotte turned her head at the sight and gagged. “My men already checked the captain’s quarters and found nothing.”

Loki stepped forward as his crew pitched Nelson’s body overboard. The buckles on his belt clinked against the metal of his sword’s scabbard. “Anyone else ready to help with the location of the logbook? Or should I find another volunteer?”

The tone of his voice caused shivers to run up and down Charlotte’s spine. Surely he won’t kill us all, Charlotte thought. She then remembered Clint’s stories of the treasure and realized the pouch around her neck held what Loki was looking for.

“I can show you where it is Captain.” Mullins’ voice stated. “I can take your men to it.”

Charlotte narrowed her eyes at Mullins. She should have known the man would turn on Clint and the rest of the crew the moment it gave him an advantage. He was nothing more than mercenary.

Loki gave Mullins the once over with suspicious eyes. “Parks! Follow this man. If he does anything not to your liking, kill him.”

A man stepped forward and grabbed Mullins hard by the shoulder as Mullins led them down below deck. Charlotte knew where he was taking them, to the bed Clint and her shared. She gave silent thanks that she had torn her dress to rags weeks ago. Several minutes passed as Loki paced the deck. His eyes caught Charlotte’s, and he gave a smile which caused her stomach to flip into her throat.

Mullins emerged with logbook in hand, a broad grin upon his face. “Here you go, Captain. As promised.”

Loki snatched the book away with slender fingers, his hands ran up and down the cover. “Excellent work. Parks…”

Parks grabbed Mullins from behind and held a blade tight against his throat. “But I gave you what you wanted!”

“And you did so eagerly and willingly. I can’t have a man whose loyalty sways with the changing wind on my crew.” Parks drew the blade across and Mullins died with a gurgle.

Charlotte wished she pitied poor Mullins’s untimely death, but the man was a flea and in her heart deserved to die.

Loki gathered his crew and they spoke amongst themselves.

“What are they doing?” Charlotte asked the crew member closest to her.

“Deciding who they will take on board as crew from the Hawk.”

Charlotte’s eyes widened, she didn’t know which prospect was more scary, being left to float in the sea on the Hawk or being recruit aboard Loki’s ship.

“Liddell!” Tall Man called out. Charlotte rose to her feet. The other men looked at her with varying expressions of horror and pity.

Charlotte walked until she stood toe to toe with Loki. “Sir?”

Loki leaned close to her face. “Already compliant. I will like you. Our ship is in desperate need of a competent cook. I hear you may be able to fulfill that role.”

“You have the supplies, I can cook it.” She boasted.

“Confident boy, aren’t you. Welcome to the crew of Le Méfait. Find Quartermaster Moss and sign the contract.”

Loki stepped away, and Charlotte shuffled along with the rest of the crew. She found aboard Le Méfait and face to face with a gruff elderly man.

“Charles Liddell?” He looked her up and down.

“Sir.”

“Here.” He shoved a piece of paper underneath Charlotte’s nose. “Everyone gets an even share of our haul. Captain gets an extra share. Keep your pistol fit for service. No smoking.”

Charlotte’s mind swirled with at all the information coming in at once. She never expected pirates to be this organized.

“Oh…” Moss continued. “… and we settle all disputes by first blood.”

Charlotte scrawled the name “Charles Liddell” onto the paper.

-

Charlotte did her best to keep a low profile on board, sticking to the kitchen as much as possible. Unlike aboard the Hawk, the crew of Le Méfait kept out of the kitchen. Except for the Captain.

Loki Laufeyson believed it was his obligation as captain to observed the day-to-day operations of his ship and crew. He found himself more often than not lingering in the ship’s kitchen. There was something about the ship’s newest cook that intrigued him. He needed to know more about Charles Liddell.

“What is that delicious aroma?”

“Stew.” Charlotte answered, not raising her head to acknowledge her captain.

Every day it was the same. Loki made some excuse to spent time in the kitchen with her. She did her best to answer his questions without raising any suspicion.

“And where did you learn to cook such appetizing food?” Loki grabbed one of the knives and flipped it in his hand.

Charlotte searched for a plausible story. Telling Loki she learned at the skirts of her mother would create more questions. Loki’s eyes pierced right through Charlotte. She found his stare so unnerving and yet she did not want him to leave.

“Uh..” she fiddled with a nearby rag. “… Crandall, the Hawk’s former cook, taught me everything.” She hoped the answer would satisfy the captain’s curiosity for another day.

Loki leaned forward and plucked a cut vegetable off the table before popping it into his mouth. “He must have been a talented cook.”

“Thank you, Captain. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must tend to the flame.”

Loki nodded and turned to leave. Charlotte glanced over her shoulder. The tight breeches hugged the curves of Loki’s backside in a way that made Charlotte’s cheeks flushed. She was so distracted she allowed her arm to travel into the flame.

“Shit!” she screamed as she flailed her arm in the air in a vain attempt to extinguish the flames.

In a flash, Loki tore her shirt from her body and threw it to the ground where he stomped upon the fabric.

“Are you okay?” He asked as Charlotte cowered to hide her torso.

“Fine. Just leave!” she bit back.

Loki spied strips of fabric covering her body.

“Mr. Liddell, are you injured? We a doctor—” Loki reached for her.

“I’m fine, Captain! Just leave it be.”

“If you are not injured, then why…” Loki’s eyes widened in realization. “… oh.”

With her back to him, Loki plucked the ribbon holding back Charlotte’s hair and the deep red strands fall along the bare skin of her back.

“I have been blind. What is your proper name, girl?” Loki’s fingers lighted on Charlotte’s shoulder.

She turned, and Loki saw the tears on her cheeks. “Charlotte. Charlotte Liddell.”

Loki licked his lips. “Well my dear Charlotte, it is rare one can keep secrets so well from me for so long.”

“I’m sorry, sir. Please don’t kill me.” she begged.

A hearty laugh bubbled up from Loki’s chest. “And lose the best cook the ship has had in years? I think not.”

“But having a woman on board is bad luck.”

Loki flicked a lock of hair off her Charlotte’s shoulder, his finger traced her collarbone. “I have never subscribed to such antiquated ideas. You are of use to the ship, therefore you are welcome aboard.”

Charlotte gave a smile. “Thank you.”

“I won’t disappoint you.”

Loki’s eyes lingered on Charlotte’s curves. “I’m certain you would never disappoint me, dove.”

#loki #steve rogers #clint barton #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #clint barton fanfic #clint barton fanfiction #loki x ofc #steve rogers x ofc #clint barton x ofc #pirate AU

[rubyredsparks]

Noisy Silence

Relationship(s): Analogical (platonic), Royality (romantic), Dukeceit (platonic)

Tags: one (1) mental breakdown, one (1) near meltdown, Deceit, Remus, one (1) homophobic lady, minor homophobia, autism, autistic Logan, Asexuality, Self-Doubt, Self-hatred, derogatory language toward some characters (from others and from themself), Self-Esteem Issues, Cursing, 5+1 Things, Asexual relationship, Aromanticism, yes this is for pride month, fight me

Summary: “Wanna listen to a podcast?”

“Sure.”

Logan was so glad he was partners with Virgil.

-----

or 5 times Logan and Virgil just wanted peace and 1 time they got it.

---

“Yo, what’s the hip-happening, my dude?”

“What the fuck just came out of your mouth?”

“I don’t know, dude, words just… happened.” 

Virgil shrugged at the incredulous look from Logan, settling down next to him. Putting on his headphones, Virgil hooked his legs over Logan’s lap, cozying up to the other.

Logan gently laid a hand on Virgil’s ankle, grimacing a little. Virgil looked up in understanding. “Bad day?”

The spectacled man nodded, wincing a little at the prolonged contact. The purple haired man nodded, swinging his legs off and lightly hitting the couch.

“Talking okay?”

‘For you, yes,’ Logan signed.

“You got it, dude,” Virgil shot him some finger guns and an awkward smile.

“Have I told you what my art history professor said, that fucking asshole?” He went on to regale Logan about the event that happened in his course, vehemently cursing all the way through.

“Hello~!” A voice sang through the room, and the door slammed open. Logan winced, fingers tapping on his hard cover book and grinding his teeth.

“How are you two nerds doing today?” Roman twirled into the room, dressed in his ridiculous Disney Cast Member outfit.

Virgil shot up to his feet, jostling Logan on the other end of the couch. “Not now, Princey. Code Blue.”

“Ohhhhhhh!” Roman said, backing up. “Sorry Lo!”

Logan grimaced, ducking his head but nodded all the same. Virgil rolled his eyes, punching Roman’s arm.

“Ow!” he cried, rubbing the sore spot.

“Come on, Crown for Brains,” Virgil pushed him out of the door. “You can catch up on our day later.”

Roman protested the method of leaving, but went without another word, waving his goodbyes. Virgil sighed tiredly, hands on his hips, “Sorry L. You good?”

‘I’m alright,’ Logan waved away his concern. ‘Let us move past that.’

“Yeah, anyway so-”

The door burst open, knocking into Virgil and making him stumble on his feet and fall on the floor. He shot a glare at the unwelcome intruder, it melted away at the guest.

“Hi there, kiddos!” Patton bobbed his head up and down. A tray was held in his hands, a steaming amount of cookies atop of it. The smell wafted into the room, the strong smell of cinnamon and sugar making Logan’s nose wrinkle.

“Hey, Pat,” Virgil said tiredly, picking himself off the ground. 

“Oh no!” Patton frowned, “Did I knock you on the ground? I am so sorry!”

Virgil must have replied, but Logan couldn’t care to pay attention, everything starting to get louder and louder. Logan gritted his teeth, the noises starting to overwhelm him. His finger tapping sped up, the agitation growing within him.

“Hey, Pat,” Virgil said, voice high pitched and worried. “Thanks for the sugar cookies, but now is not the time.”

“What? What do you-?” Patton’s voice abruptly broke off, and Logan’s fingers were starting to sting.

Hushed noises were exchanged, but Logan didn’t pay attention to that, instead focusing on the rabbit thundering in his heart. He screwed his eyes shut, the harsh lights burning his corneas.

Logan can hear voices, but he couldn’t respond. His tongue was heavy, stuck in his mouth, the roof of it jamming. 

The voices stop, and Logan felt his book being pried out of his hands. He tightened it in response, unable to let go of his safety book. He needed it, he needed that security. 

Everything stopped.

He took a deep breath, trying to get the shutdown under control. He didn’t need this. He shouldn’t be having this. Not right now. 

It took ages; longer than he would’ve liked, but he got out of it. The lights were turned off, and Virgil was sleeping awkwardly on the ground, legs sprawled in what should be an uncomfortable position.

“Vir-” his voice broke off, scratchy and unused. He coughed, an ugly hacking noise that burned his throat.

A cup was shoved into his hands, the feeling tingly and warm. He didn’t question it, his trust in Virgil unwavering.

The drink was warm, warm and sweet, exactly what he needed. Before he knew it, he had drained it all. 

He blinked, seeing Virgil’s warm smirk. “Feeling better, L?”

Logan nodded, putting the cup away on the side. He coughed slightly, clearing his throat. “Satisfactory, Virgil. Thank you.”

“No problem, nerd.” The other ducked his head, a small, shy smile on his lips. “You’d do the same for me, we’re partners.”

Logan didn’t respond, only giving a small, genuine smile. He patted the space next to him, feeling the need for company bubble within him. Touching was still out of the question, and Virgil seemed to understand, perching on the arm of the couch instead.

“Wanna listen to a podcast?”

“Sure.”

Logan was so glad he was partners with Virgil.

---

Virgil scowled, throwing the paint brushes onto the ground. Something was wrong, the painting was wrong, everything was wrong. Nothing was going his way today. His painting, his classes, his fucking life.

“Agh!” he threw the easel onto its side, smearing the paints onto the carpeted floor. He grimaced, that was something he had to deal with later.

His skin was crawling, noises starting to echo. Curling up on the floor seemed like a great idea. So that was exactly what he did.

Hood thrown over his head, eyes screwed shut, he rocked back and forth and tried not to cry.

The voices were so loud.

Degradation. Self-deprecation. Devastation.

You’re a horrible artist. All of your work is shit. You can’t even draw a fucking apple, let alone what you want to make for Logan.

“Shut up!” he snapped at himself.

What? Think you can get rid of me by shouting? I’m you, idiot. You can’t get rid of your thoughts like that. You’re such an idiot, you failure. Speaking of failure, you’re going to fail your art classes. Who even takes art classes? Can’t figure out how to draw yourself?

Let’s talk about your many failures. Like how you suck at your relationship with Logan. What is an asexual relationship anyway? That doesn’t exist…..

He didn’t know how long he was there, listening to that ugly voice in his head and curled up on the floor with paint sticking onto him. 

Remember that one time, ten years ago when you--

“Shut the fuck up,” Virgil hissed.

“Now that is no way to speak to me, Virgil.”

The painter startled, eyes blurring on the black figure kneeling in front of him. Glasses stared down at him, a look of understanding and sympathy on his face. 

“Lo?”

Now you’re bringing Logan into this? He has better things to do than take care of a whiny brat.

Virgil winced, silently agreeing with the voice.

“What happened, Virgil? What’s this?” He gestured to the splattered paint on the ground, the tilted easel, and his curled up figure. 

“Bad day,” Virgil muttered.

Is that what you’re calling me now? The voice sounded amused. Because I can get worse than just a ‘bad day’.

“What would you like me to do to make it better?” Logan asked, tilted his head and eager to help.

Don’t you dare bring him into your mess. The voice warned, somehow getting louder in his head. He has enough to do without taking care of your problems. Do not bother him.

Virgil hesitated, agreeing with the voice. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it, Logan.”

“Now I’m even more concerned.” Logan frowned, taking in his appearance. “You rarely call me by my first name. Are you sure there is not something I can do to alleviate your anxiety?”

“Who said it’s my anxiety?”

“Virgil.” 

The other sighed, curling up tighter, hiding away his face from Logan. He didn’t want to see the disappointment on Logan’s face from his inability to take care of himself. Why couldn’t he be normal?

Because you’re a natural born fuck up, that’s why.

“It’s nothing, Logan, seriously. I’m fine.” Virgil scooted away, back toward him.

“Alright,” Logan said slowly. 

Virgil heard some shuffling and footsteps leading away from him before the door closed.

See? Even Logan knows that you’re not worth his time. 

“Shut up! I know I’m worthless, you don’t need to shove it in my face!” The tears were coming, and he could do nothing to stop it. The sting of them were pushing at him, trying to fall down his face. He clenched his jaw. This wasn’t the time to cry.

He rearranged himself, hugging his knees to chest.  He burrowed his head in his arms, rubbing at his eyes at the tears that escaped.

“Virgil, are you alright?” 

Eyes red from trying not to cry, the blurry vision of Logan carrying two mugs surprised him. “Logan?” He croaked out, “You came back?”

“Of course I did,” Logan said softly. He set aside the two mugs, kneeling in front of Virgil. His hands hovered over Virgil’s knees, an unsure look on his face. Virgil gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod, and Logan gathered him into a hug.

It was stiff, almost unnatural, but Virgil melted into it, knowing that Logan rarely gave hugs. 

He cried. Virgil cried and cried and cried. Letting all the emotions he was feeling out.

Logan, to his credit, didn’t say anything, just stayed as a silent anchor as the voices in his head tried to disregard the scene happening right now.

After awhile, Logan unwrapped himself from Virgil’s arms. “Let’s move away from  the floor," he suggested, gently guiding Virgil toward the armchair.

Virgil followed willingly, not comprehending the move at all. When a warm mug was shoved into his hands, he startled, looking down in it in confusion.

"I have noticed that your sugars are rather low after a panic attack and it is necessary to replenish those without risking low blood sugar."

Virgil took a tiny sip, the warmth from the tea making him feel sleepier. "Thanks, Lo."

Logan breathed a sigh of relief, "Thank Tesla, I am elated that you are feeling better again. If I am not too inquisitive, might I inquire about the cause of the panic attack?"

Virgil shrugged, finger tracing the rim of the mug. 

Logan frowned, "I understand. You do not have to tell me if you do not wish to. For a change of subject, may I tell you what occurred over lunch at work?"

Virgil managed a tiny nod, needing to push away the hissing voice in his head right now

"Now this happened over a series of minutes, and…."

Fortunately, the ugly voice was quiet, as if enraptured by Logan's storytelling as much as Virgil was.

He watched as Logan monotonously retold the story, feeling a glad smile twitch at his lips. 

He was so glad that Logan was his partner.

---

Logan was just trying to enjoy some Crofters and biscuits. 

"No, just hear me out, Lo," Virgil tapped the whiteboard insistently. "Mothman is real, and I have the proof."

"Virgil, I appreciate your presence in my life," Logan started, waving a threatening butter knife around. "But I am just trying to enjoy my jam, and I do not need outside interference."

"But if you would just--"

"Yes, absolutely hear him out!" Remus popped out of somewhere, completely naked, causing Virgil to throw the marker he was holding blindly in that direction.

It didn't even faze Logan who immediately went back to slathering as much jam as humanly possible on his biscuits.

"What the fuck, Remus! Where the hell did you even come from?"

"My mother's womb, of course!" He grinned maniacally, hearing the enraged tone in Virgil's voice.

"You know what I fucking mean. What are you doing here? I thought you were dumpster diving."

Logan rolled his eyes. The eclectic nature of Roman's twin grinding on his nerves, he abruptly stood up, gathering his things.

Everything was getting much too loud again, and he needed his time with Crofters if he was going to get through the day.

His stomach twisted, going off schedule making him feel squeamish. He pushed it aside, quietly leaving.

Remus pushed him, and Logan should've seen that coming.

"Come on, glasses. Tell your partner that I'm right and that Bigfoot would absolutely fuck Mothman."

"Mothman has more class than that!" Virgil screeched, and Logan's headache was starting to grow. 

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses up. Remus had gone back to standing directly in front of Virgil again, arguing even more vehemently.

He took that as his escape.

Can it ever be quiet in the morning, Logan wondered.

Something exploded in the distance, and Logan winced as Virgil shouted that he was alright.

Logan shook his head, stuffing a mouthful of jam in his mouth and went back to his schedule.

"REMUS!" Dee's voice shook the house, and Logan gave Virgil a concerned look.

The other only rolled his eyes, putting his headphones on more firmly and no doubt turning up the volume.

An enraged stomping thundered down the hall, the door flying open.

"Where the fuck is that piece of shit?" Dee seethed, practically foaming at the mouth.

Virgil looked up to glare at him, only to break out into raucous laughter. The angered man was green from head to toe, only his clothes covering what little dignity he had left.

"Holy shit, what the fuck happened?"

"Remus happened, that's what," Dee spat out, "Now where is he?"

"Haven't seen him," Virgil shrugged, and Logan shook his head when Dee turned to him. 

Dee huffed, slamming the door shut. Logan sighed, he just wanted to read his book.

"You can come out from under there now, Remus." Logan drummed his fingers on the arm of the couch.

Something thumped as feet landed on the floor. 

"Were you on top of the fucking bookcase?" Logan asked in exasperation.

"Did you see his face?!" Remus shrieked with a cackle, naked again before streaking out the room with another slam of the door. "Thanks again, fellas!"

"Do you think Dee will--"

"REMUS!"

Logan shook his head. "I do not understand why he even bothers."

"I regret saying yes to Roman about letting his brother stay here."

"As do I, Virgil, as do I."

There was a moment of silence as Virgil and Logan heard a thump and a small 'Owie' from Remus and Dee scolding him.

"Podcast?"

"Definitely."

Something exploded in the distance, Logan and Virgil pretended not to notice.

---

"This is why we do not leave holiday shopping until the last minute, Patton." Logan said, slightly annoyed at being outside so early in the morning. 

"I know, I know. But I really want to get something good for Roman this year. I can just keep baking or cooking something from him."

"Are you certain? I'm sure he'd still be delighted as he has been for the past three years."

"Yeah, but this time I wanna get him something he can't just eat."

"Very well," Logan sighed. "What do you think of getting him?"

"Something brilliant and fantastic and noble. Like him!" Patton beamed.

"Cringe," Virgil said with a yawn, "Why did you invite me to this, Lo? I don't wanna brainstorm about gifts."

"I didn't," Logan reminded him with a shake of his head. "I said I was going out with Patton and you climbed into the car without our noticing until we were already at the mall."

"Oh yeah," Virgil shrugged, lacing his hand with Logan's. 

"Is it really that cringey?" Patton asked. "I just-- really love Roman, and I wanna get him something that reflects that."

Virgil softened, "That's okay, Pat. I'm sorry I said that. I was just tired. It's a little cringey but I think it's cool of you to do this for your boyfriend."

Patton beamed, "Thanks kiddo! But I still don't know what to get him."

"Roman enjoys romantic things, yes? Why not make him something romantic?"

"Yeah," Virgil nodded. "That cheeseball enjoys those things. He'd get a kick out of something like that. Make a scrapbook or something."

Patton's face lit up, gasping in excitement. "That's a great idea!"

He rushed away to the crafts section, leaving the other two to their own business.

Logan blinked at the empty space where Patton, "Well, that takes care of Patton. Did you need anything, Virgil?"

"Nah," Virgil leaned into Logan. "I'm good."

There was a scoff, and Logan tensed, thoughts starting to explode.

He didn't need to turn to feel the glare and disgust of someone, the eyes boring into him. 

"What are you looking at, lady?" Virgil bit out. 

Brilliant, Virgil chose fight with his fight or flight responses.

"It is disgusting to see such horrible acts out in the open," a nasally voice said.

"What? Holding hands?" Virgil's voice was laced with so much sarcasm that the lady could drown in it.

"The indecency of you two, have you no shame?" She managed to somehow sound patronizing and arrogant at the same time, and Logan could not stand it.

"Ma'am, there is, quite literally, a heterosexual couple sticking their tongues down each other's throats a few feet away." Logan calmly said even when his thoughts were in turmoil.

"Furthermore, my partner and I have no business with you when we were just holding hands which is not illegal in any sort of circumstances. Instead of blindly judging on an opinion that is factually wrong, do yourself a favor and reexamine your life and see if you've actually done anything worthwhile. Because from my perspective, you've done nothing but bring calamity upon your life; what with your cheating of your husband and multiple surgeries upon your face."

The woman sputtered in outrage, unable to come up with any sort of response before finally huffing and stomping away like a child.

"Damn, Lo," Virgil whistled, that was brutal. How'd you know she cheated on her husband?"

"Her ring finger had an outline of a ring, suggesting either divorce or widowed. Considering she was wearing makeup and jewelry worth absolutely nothing and she was just standing around as if she was looking for prey, it was a safe bet."

"That was pretty cool of you, defending our honour and all that."

"Yes," Logan rubbed the side of his temple with one hand. "Is it alright if we leave? I fear a migraine is coming for me."

"No worries, I already texted Pat." Virgil chastely kissed Logan's cheek before lightly tugging on his hand, leading him away.

---

"Lo, are you there?" Virgil stumbled through the house, fumbling around for a light switch.

"I am in the commons, Virgil."

"It's just a living room," he muttered under his breath. Stubbing his toe one too many times, Virgil made it to the living room.

"What is going on? Where is everyone? Why is it so freaking dark in here?"

He saw Logan standing in front of a structurally well made pillow fort, nervously tapping his fingers on his thigh. Bowls of popcorn gathered around and fairy lights strung up to make a soft glow.

The TV was queued up with The Black Cauldron, and Virgil gave Logan a small, weird smile.

"What's all this, Lo?"

"We've had a tumultuous month, so I bartered with everyone to have a night off so that the two of us can have a peaceful night. Is this alright?"

Virgil shook his head and gave Logan a broad smile. "This is great, Logan. Exactly what I wanted. You're brilliant."

Logan gave a small smile, "I wanted to spend some time with you without anyone interrupting us like always."

Virgil slid off his shoes, wrapping a blanket around himself. He motioned for Logan to do the same, stopping him for a moment. "Uh uh, no neck ties in the pillow fort."

Logan arched a brow, "I made this fort. Shouldn't I make the rules?"

"Nope!" Virgil popped the 'p', smiling broadly at Logan. 

The other gave a long suffering sigh, "Very well. The things I do for you."

"Love you too, Lo."

Logan's eyes softened, smiling gently before getting inside the fort. 

Quietly, the movie started and the two leaned against each other, able to finally bask in the moment with each other.

---

A/N: did I go overboard with the tagging? Maybe, but better to be safe rather than sorry. Anyway, this was a gift exchange for @thechildoflightning back in December that I never got around to posting officially on my blog. This is also my perfect post for the first of Pride Month! Thank you all so much for reading!

#analogical #royality #my writing #minor homophobia #tw minor homophobia #autistic character #self-deprecation #self-hatred #tw self deprecation #tw meltdown #a minor one #meltdown #aromance #asexual character #aromantic character #deceit sanders #janus sanders #duke sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #how do i add a keep reading link???

[mrneighbourlove]

The Rising Sun: Ch 5. Power Exchanged

"Oh thank the goddesses we're here."

"I thought we'd never hear the prattle end from your grandfather about his glory days."

"Give him a break, he's old and just wants to give an impression that he can still kick ass."

"Can he still kick ass?"

"I... think so? To a degree? If you're close enough to hit with his cane, perhaps."

"Or his farts, those are lethal."

“Oh, hush the lot of you.” Ganondorf, former King of Hyrule, had grown older with age. Man was just over a century of age. Even kept his build up over all the decades. Up until Zelda passed away. His wife’s death shook him to the core, and over the last few years since her passing, he lost muscle mass. No need to work out, but also a loss of spirit. Still, he held joy for his family: children, grandchildren, friends. And this day was one of the most joyous he’d ever have in a long time.

With all his children and grandchildren finally gathered, with their significant others, they were traveling to Taiyo Town in a large caravan.

"We would have been here sooner if you didn't have to stop to pee ten times."

"Shut it, you were the one that kept complaining about being hungry."

"I was hungry! What's wrong with being hungry?"

"Ganonpa," Luimaya sighed in annoyance, listening to her siblings and cousins’ bicker. "How did you do it with Dad and his siblings?"

“To be honest, it was your grand mother that was the level headed one. I often encouraged some healthy bickering. Was also easy to haul you all by the scruffs when you’ve been misbehaving. Also helped to have Rinku and Leere step in once in a while.” The Mortuus had a nice cloak to protect her skin from the sun. Sunny was letting little Joy play with Skyla. “Well that became difficult when all our younger siblings become rebellious giants.”

"Hmph, when you could catch us by the scruff, old man."

"Remember that time when we pranked him with the stink bomb with Skull Kid?"

"He chased us through the halls for hours before giving up."

"I told you it wasn't a good idea at the time."

"What do you mean, Lui? It was your idea."

"Yes, my idea, just not at that time. He was in a mood that day and we set it off."

"What are we even doing here, anyway? I thought the future queen couldn't leave the castle unless it was for diplomatic reasons."

"It is." Luimaya clarified. "I'm here to meet the leaders of Taiyo Town."

"But you're going to be the queen, and you're Gerudo. So, doesn't that make you their leader?"

Revan cleared his throat, sitting next to Nakeso and Luimaya. There were so many grandkids he’d barely known here now. Not to mention, he was finally about to enter the town his father put so much time and attention into. The whole feeling was daunting, but he did his best to relax. Heck, Kanisa’s kids didn’t even look like Gerudo. “Well, yes and no. All the tribes of Hyrule ha e either sworn fealty to the crown of Hyrule or formed alliances. So technically, my father and anyone else who’s in charge here could lead without outright obeying Covarog and later Luimaya.”

Luimaya and Ganondorf both shot Revan a glare at his words. Like grandfather, like granddaughter, it seemed. She definitely inherited his scowl. Evidently, the two of them agreed on the premise that the Gerudo of Taiyo Town should still hold some respect for the original King, his son, and granddaughter. "We don't want a repeat of the past, Revan. We're going to ensure it stays peaceful, but there has to be some grounds of respect." Luimaya told her bodyguard. "Your father or another leader, it matters not."

“I never suggested that.” Revan drew closer to Nakeso, freezing when his thigh touched hers. “And I’m sure my dad isn’t a fool. Just stubborn. Something I’ve heard and know you two can have in common.”

The cart laughed as Ganondorf merely smiled lightly in agreement. It wasn’t something he could deny.

"That's right, you're the fool and he's just stubborn." Luimaya teased, earning another round of snickers from everyone in the caravan. "You've nearly gotten yourself killed numerous times, not counting the times you were trying to watch my back."

"I don't know who is the worst, Revan or you."

"Revan." The grandkids all responded in unisons.

"He has more tallies." Nakeso held up a notebook. "Revan has nearly gotten killed 158 times while Luimaya is only at 37."

"What? Really? I thought she'd have more."

"She's reckless, but she's not stupid enough to put herself in situations to die."

"True."

"Hey! Your future queen is hearing all this!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, you know it's true."

Revan was bright red in the face. “It hasn’t even been a year since- Wait, how long have you kept that book around for?”

"Since you were five and almost stuck your head into a forge to prove you were fireproof like your sister." Nakeso remarked, earning a snort from Donoma. "I still can't believe you did that."

"He was just jealous that I could walk in fire without getting burned." Donoma giggled. "And pouted when I held fire in my hands like a ball. Insisted he could do it too. I don't think I've ever seen Mama scold him like that for an hour."

Revan was growing uncomfortable. Pretty much every grandchild was not only older than him, Ralnor’s children themselves being in their mid thirties to cap the height of age, but they were all together on his misery. Even Donoma seemed to be more suited with them. “Yeah. Sure.” When he saw Skyla looking at him, he sighed, secretly signing to her. “ Least I’m not afraid of spiders.”

"You in trouble. A lot." Skyla signed in return with a small smile. She was still shy, like she was when a tiny girl, but had opened up to her cousins and was flourishing in her studies to be a veterinarian. "But good fighter. Luimaya lucky to have you. Don't worry. Everyone loves you. Just tease you cause love you."

“Could fool me.”

“Hey ya’ll!” Rinku shouted from the front of the horse cart. “We’re here. You all behaving back there? Hate to turn this ride around~”

"Hey, if we're not behaving, it's only because we learned it from you." Covarog snickered.

Orana jested with him. "Yeah, you tell her."

“Well, you got me there.” They could hear the putter patter of her feet walking on the sand to the doors. Opening them, sunlight poured inside. “To those unaccustomed by desert heat, please apply sunscreen that’s been provided. This mostly applies to my gothic sister pale as a vampire and Kanisa’s one eyed, blue skinned, always a pleasurable attitude husband and my adorable nephew and niece from Uskar. My sister in law Sunny has provided sun hats for those who prefer them.”

"Is your sister always this cheery?" Vidar grumbled in Uskarian to Kanisa. He absolutely loathed the desert and the heat. The poor man looked miserable. "I don't see how it's possible with all this sand and sun."

"Just deal with it a little while longer please, love." Kanisa assured her husband. "We'll be back in Uskar soon enough."

"If I don't melt first."

Leere addressed Skyla and Joy together with Tebanem. “Since you’re both the youngest, I’d like you both to stay together at all times. Stay within eyeshot of an adult.”

"Hey! I'm not a kid." Tebanam huffed. "I'm an adult!"

"She means Skyla and Joy, Teb." Faris clarified, amused, to his husband. "She doesn't want them wandering off."

"Oh."

The shit eating grin on Leere’s face filled up until she couldn’t help but keel over in laughter. “If you need the advice of the oldest siblings, talk to me or Luimaya, Tebby. I’m sure Kanny will love to be your pair buddy~”

"Oh shut it, I knew what you meant, I was just joking." Tebanam refused to look her in the eye, crossing his arms.

Once all the others had stepped outside, Ganondorf made his way out of the cart. It had been too long since he breathed desert air and tasted life upon the winds. With light robes he turned to the massive walls of the town. Was like a fortress. “Impressive.” The gates opened as Revan and Donoma handed out passes to the men that their father had given them in advance. What awaited inside amazed the old king. Gerudo of all shapes and sizes interacting as a community. Everyone of them shouted out one big greeting when they saw the family gathering. “VASAAQ!!! SAV’AAQ!!!”

Revan himself blinked, surprised by how many red headed women there were. He looked at his sister surprised. “You’ve been coming here?”

"Yeah, what of it?" Donoma was taken aback by her brother's surprise. "I've learned a lot about our history. Mama taught me all I needed to know of what we had of Lorleidian history. Dad taught us what he knew of Gerudo history, but there's only so much he can teach. The rest of it needs to be experienced. Besides," She waved at a few of her friends. "I've made a lot of progress in my studies and I have friends here. It's nice to have a second home."

“Must be nice.” Revan couldn’t help but let his bitterness out. Was he not Gerudo enough to belong here? The man of the hour appeared. Malik opted for stylized, yet comfortable robes. Beside him, Gali was wearing a nice Vai dress. The Lord of Taiyo Town smiled to Zarazu before addressing the group as a whole. “My extended family, and royal family of Hyrule. I am honoured that you can finally see the hard work all of our generations have worked towards. The Gerudo people prosperous once again. I welcome you to Taiyo town.”

Each family member extended their greeting politely before the King spoke. "I am impressed by the amount of work here, and absolutely delighted that we finally are able to see the restoration of our people." Covarog then noted Gali. "Please let me to express my thanks in allowing Lord Malik to help you oversee the construction of Taiyo Town. May I present my wife, Queen Zarazu of the Lorleidians," He gestured to his lover. "And my children. Marena and Syrena are the youngest twins, then Zahirog, then Turagor and Luimaya are my eldest. My Luimaya is next in line to rule our kingdom."

Gali bowed her head politely to Luimaya. “It is a privilege to learn the next high Queen will be a Gerudo Woman on the throne. Strong, and fiery from what Donoma has told me in her studies. You will make a remarkable queen, I’m sure. We encourage you to explore Taiyo Town on your own. We want to be an organic experience for all of you.”

"It is a privilege to be here in your town, to learn more of my history and to walk with the fierce warriors that I have read so much about in books. I feel like this is something out of a fairy tale, even though I know it's simply history." Luimaya returned a respectful nod of her head to Gali. "I ask that you teach me, my siblings, and cousins all that you know and anything you wish for us to learn; whether it be ways of combat or simple knowledge." Then the future queen gestured to Skyla. "I ask you have patience with my family, but especially my cousin, Skyla. She is deaf and reads lips. I don't suppose any of you know sign? She can write in Gerudo, but that takes a time." "Hi!" Skyla signed to Gali with a bright smile. "I do read lips, but accents make lips move odd. Please talk slowly for me." Luimaya then translated, "She is greeting you and asking for you and the other members of the town to speak slower for her, to give her time to read your lips."

Gali nodded, addressing the town in Gerudo to look out for the little one. Turning to Skyla, she got on a knee to kneel down to her and speak in Sign. “Hello Skyla. I am Gali. I think I’ve met you and your father’s people on my travels before. Hard to forget a tribe as pretty as you.”

"You tall lady." Skyla motioned to the women surrounding Gali. "All tall. Garai women like me, not so tall. Sister tribe, you come visit sometime." She then stomped the sand with her foot and made a sailing wave with her arm. "Ride Sand Rays! Learn of Gerudo now. You learn of Garai too. Too much time pass without sister tribe. Sand here. Stone there. Much to know." "Skyla, don't sign so fast, she might not get it all." Tebanam hopped down from his camel, Loogie, and signed to his daughter. "They go slow for you, you go slow for them. Not too fast." Skyla blushed and sheepishly signed, "Sorry. Excited!"

"That's more than fine Skyla. We'll get to learning about each others culture very quickly." Gali patted Skyla on the shoulder as she stood up. "We have tour guides in green patched shoulders who'd love to take you around our markets, bars, training grounds, schools, saunas, spas, and the rest of the joyous spots in Taiyo Town. If you'd like to explore on your own that's fine too. I hope you all enjoy the joys Taiyo Town can bring!"

Ganondorf was lost in thought as he looked around the town. While Gali was addressing the crowd, he watched small Gerudo children kick a ball back and forth. A woman was beating an old styled blanket he used to wrap himself in previous lives from her balcony. And there was a Hylian in the background laughing with a Gerudo. A union he had been working hard since with his wife to normalized. A view he knew his cousin had struggled to come to grips with. Yet here they were.

~

Donoma was struggling to pull her brother through the throng of women. This was a headache. She kept politely asking for the ladies to step aside, but they were more interested in talking to Revan. "Girls... girls, for fuck's sake!!!" Donoma shouted over the crowd. "You can feel his pecs later, we're going to see my mom now."

“Come on Donoma! This is the virgin brother you have! Can’t we just, you know, kiss him. For homework purposes?” Her roommate asked in a little sexy voice for her brother.

Revan wasn’t expecting so many of the girls around Donoma’s age to be so horny. This wasn’t the type of attention he wanted. “I have someone else...”

"No. At least, not now. Later." Donoma yanked Revan into the tent that her mother and father shared. Finally, maybe the crowd would go away. "Damn vultures, I swear..."

"Revan!" Asakonigei was on bed rest, currently trying her hand at knitting and failing miserably. Although, her face lit up when she saw her son and daughter. "Donoma! I'm so happy you're both here!"

“Mom!” Revan ran forward, hugging her close. “Are you ok? I can’t believe Dad got you pregnant again.”

"I'm fine, Revan, just a little uncomfortable with all this extra weight." Asakonigei hugged her son tightly. "We were not exactly planning this, but nonetheless, it happened. I've been very well cared for while I've been here."

"Do you know what the baby is now?" Donoma asked her mother. "I've been wanting to know for so long!"

"Yes, actually, I do know the baby is going to be." Asakonigei smiled widely. "You're both going to have a little brother."

"Queen Zarazu birthed three Gerudo boys and now, I suppose I'm lucky to have a second one." Asakonigei then added. "Though your father and I have been at odds about a name."

“You have?” Revan sat beside her, wanting to not leave her side. Been months since he saw his mother.

"Get a load of this," Donoma plopped onto the bed, opposite to Revan, their mother in the middle. "Dad says he wants another Gerudo name, but Mom is insisting on a combination between Gerudo and Lorleidian since my name is Lorleidian and yours is Gerudo."

"It's only fair." Asakonigei defended her point. "I doubt I'm having another baby, so half it, right?"

“Well knowing father, he most likely doesn’t want a Frankenstein name put together.”

"It's not that bad, I don't think." Donoma shrugged her shoulders. "Mufratir is all right, isn't it?" Asakonigei asked her son.

Revan couldn’t hide his displeasure at the name as his face contorted at the corners. “Keep it simple?”

"Or she could go all out like Zarazu and Covarog did with Zahirog and name the kid Malikonigei." Donoma snorted.

"Oh, hush you!" Asakonigei gently shoved at Donoma's shoulder.

“Could call him Dad’s first name?” Revan pondered on the possibilities.

"One Malik in the world is enough, the world has enough stubbornness." Asakonigei laughed.

"The world didn't need even more with Revan, what have you done, Mom?"

"Your brother is not that bad."

"He went into a match without magic."

"That's just his ego."

“Excuse me?!” The comment of the world not needing him stung Revan to his core. “I’m sorry I tried to prove that I had value in the skills I crafted for myself. I’m sorry I’m not daddies favourite child!”

"Oh, stop being a brat." Donoma snapped at Revan. "You know that's not what I meant. I implied the world doesn't need more of your 'I'm-undefeatable' attitude." She then scoffed and said, "Favorite? Dad doesn't choose favorites, but if you really believe that's true, it's only because I actually listen and behave."

"Hush, you two, stop fighting." Asakonigei scolded both of her children. "I shall not have you two fighting in front of me or your father. He has enough to worry about as it is."

“Oh you know what, fuck dad too. Too important with all of this to give a damn about me.” Revan gestured all around the village with wide arms. “Skipping dinners, celebrations, and ceremonies to be here. Except while I’m stuck out busting my ass, he chooses you to live here with him. You’re probably aware he’s never once invited me here.”

"He didn't choose me to live with him here, you dumbass! I'm a woman, for starters, and at least I look Gerudo!!!" Donoma spat back at Revan. "He's trying his best to rebuild some semblance of what our ancestors lost! If you're so upset about not receiving a personal invitation, it's not Dad's fault! The Gerudo women here don't trust men! The only reason they trust Dad is because he is Gerudo!"

"ENOUGH!!!" Asakonigei shouted so loud that Revan's ears and Donoma's rang something fierce. "If the both of you are going to squabble like children, then you can do so elsewhere! I do not need the stress of seeing you two fight and neither does your little sibling! Out! Right now!"

"But Mom---"

"I said, OUT!!!"

“You hit the nail exactly on the head. In his eyes I’m not Gerudo. And if I am, I’ll only carry the worst aspects. So how about you go crawl back to your sisterhood like the good little girl you are.” Revan looked to his mom, daring to glare at her something fierce. “A baby will kill you. Why would you risk putting us through something like that?”

"At least I don't follow around a girl who doesn't love me!" Donoma shot back. "Luimaya will never like you in that aspect and you think being her bodyguard will make her view you as some romantic hero? You're an ass." With that, Donoma tromped out of the tent.

Asakonigei gave Revan a hard stare. "I had complications with you, I lost too much blood with Donoma, and yet, both of you are still here and alive." Asakonigei said very sternly. "Your father and I didn't plan this. I did not even think I could get pregnant again with the trauma my body suffered. Yet, this baby is growing within me and will need you and your sister. I would gladly die for you and Donoma, and this baby. It's part of me and part of your father, and will be your sibling. Don't you dare patronize me, son."

“Is this because you want to give father his large family. You really think it’ll be fair to the baby to grow up in a world without a mother?” Revan sat down next to her, disbelief wrapped around his face. “You think that’s fair to me and Donoma to lose you for another one of father’s grand dreams? Honestly, are you even thinking properly here?”

"No, I don't think it's fair. Not for me, not for you, not for your sister or father, and certainly not the baby." Asakonigei stated as her son sat beside of her. "As I said previously, your father nor I planned this. It simply happened. And I am thinking very clearly. I am a mother. You will not be able to understand until you have children of your own, Revan. I want this baby to be born surrounded by love regardless of what happens to me. I may or may not survive... but at least this time, I will have more help."

“How? What makes you believe that? Your body will kill you. Dr. Bovier made that perfectly clear.”

"Yes, Doctor Boveir did. Yet, these women believe differently. So now, the only thing I have left is faith."

“Faith? Are you out of your mind?” Revan sneered at the very thought. “We should just get on our hands and knees and pray? Or perhaps we should get some shaman to throw flowers on top of you.”

"Don't. Patronize. Me." Asakonigei yanked her son forward by the collar of his armor. She was pregnant, but still strong enough to get Revan's attention. "I prayed to Kovina for you. You are here. If you are going to be like this, then you can leave. I will not have your attitude around myself or your new sibling-to-be when the time comes. Either you can support me, or go. What is it going to be?"

“I’ll leave when her royal highness deems it ready to go.” He held her hand, his fingers gentle, yet firm on her. His eyes were angry, but his lips trembled small hesitation. “I don’t want Klinge’s ego to take you away from me.”

"... you know I'll fight the Goddess of Death to stay here with you." Asakonigei held the side of his face with a small sigh. "If you don't have faith in the deities, at least have faith in me. Your mother is a tough old woman."

Revan’s eyes were heavy as he slowly nodded in agreement. “Alright...” Careful to not hurt her, he hugged his mother closely. “I don’t trust Father to look after you. So you have to be strong enough to look after yourself.”

As Revan hugged her, Asakonigei slowly stroked the back of his hair, trying her best to soothe him. "I have a lot of women here ready to help me. I'll have help, Revan. And if you decide to stay for a little while, then you can help me too."

Revan choose to ignore that last part. “I hope they can help you...”

~

The first day of the royal family visit was going smoothly. Malik was incredibly proud of his people. Seeing Luimaya, he waved the girl and her siblings over. “Young princess. Princes and princess’. How are you this afternoon?”

Luimaya had been exploring the town with her siblings and cousins. All of them were currently enjoying a recipe of the Gerudo heritage. Poor Turagor was coughing from the spiciness, the younger twins barely batted an eye, and Zahirog merely nibbled on his, trying to save face. "This is... a different experience for sure. It's not exactly what I've read in books." Zahirog admitted to Malik.

"I guess history left out a few parts." Turagor said in-between sputters from the spicy chicken leg.

"I really enjoyed seeing such beautiful custom clothes!" Marena smiled.

"And hearing the music!" Syrena added.

Luimaya stayed silent for a while, thinking. "Though... Ganonpa won't stay here to lead them." She then asked. "So I suppose Gail is going to?"

“Ganondorf is too old to lead. The man has lived long enough for this lifetime to be a ruler. Gali certainly makes a qualified Chieftain in my absence.”

The siblings exchanged glances.

"... you?" Zahirog appeared to be confused. "You're a man. I thought the Gerudo wanted a female leader like Nabooru in the old days?"

“There have been Kings and Queens in our past too.”

"Yeah, though Zahi and Turagor needed a pass just to come in here." Marena noted. "So... it's safe to assume they're not too trusting of men." Syrena pointed out to her uncle.

"I know Mom and Dad will probably want to talk to them about keeping good ties with Hyrule." Luimaya told Malik. "I know Dad is King and a descendant of Ganondorf, so surely there will be peace from here on out."

“That’s something we are working out. I just don’t want these people to be taken advantage of.” Malik smiled softly, speaking gently to them all. “Just how I didn’t want your father, uncles, aunts and all of you taken advantage. History can sometimes be tricky and like to repeat itself.”

"Do you think they'll allow Lorleidians here too? Maybe some Hylian civilians?" Luimaya inquired. "For trading purposes?"

“Yes. It’s what I want. It’s what we are already trying to integrate. Look closely, and you’ll be able to spot one or two amongst the town even now.”

"As long as there is prosperity and peace, that's what matters the most." Luimaya stated.

"Though, I really wish you wouldn't stay here."

"Yeah, the castle would fall apart without you." Turagor remarked as he chugged down some water, trying to wash away some of the spiciness of the chicken. "I mean, you did keep our aunts and uncles from arguing all the time. Sort of."

"I think what he's trying to say is you're a peacemaker and we don't want anymore food fight incidents between Uncle Corsaire and his crew against the Hylian guards." Zahirog blanched. "I was pulling noodles out of my hair for weeks."

“Children...” Malik tried to sound soft to counteract how tired he was of this particular conversation. “I’ve been a peacemaker before your parents were even born. If you still need to rely on my guidance, I fear for the stability of Hyrule.”

"What they're trying to say is, they're going to miss you if you stay here." Marena clarified.

"Yeah. It would suck, cause we wouldn't get to see you as often." Syrena added to her twin's statement.

“Your Aunt Kanisa lives a whole ocean away. I’m still less then a days travel away. Besides, distance makes the heart grow fonder.” He gently patted Syrena on the shoulder.

"Yeah, but at least she has a dragon to bring her here to see us." Syrena sulked slightly. "If you move away, you might not come back cause Uncle Ralnor annoys you."

"We all know that Uncle Ralnor can annoy anyone with his 'proper-ness'." Marena snickered. "I hold my pinky finger out when I sip tea, look at me, I'm so proper." The siblings did exchange giggles at that mentioning.

“What? You can’t travel here to see me?”

"We can but who knows when we'll be able to." Luimaya admitted with a heavy sigh. "Come on, Uncle Malik. Even Mom and Dad don't get out of the palace that much. You know that."

"And when Lui becomes queen, it will be harder for to do so." Turagor frowned slightly. "Maybe for us if we have to stay at home too."

"At least we have each other." Zahirog noted. "That's what counts."

"But on a lighter note, Mama told us that Aunt Asa is pregnant again." Marena smiled. "What are you going to name the baby?"

"Is it a boy or a girl?" Syrena asked.

“I don’t know yet.” Malik didn’t want to know, least, not quite yet. Sighing, he figured out how to approach their worries. “The same way home will keep you busy in central Hyrule, my home here will keep me busy. This is simply part of life though children.”

"We know." Zahirog shrugged, holding his siblings together with his arms around their shoulders. "Though you better find the time to visit if we do."

“I-“ Malik saw Ganondorf from afar. The man held an expression of light urgency, waving the Lord with the wrist of a hand. “If you will excuse me children.”

Reaching Ganondorf’s side, Malik still felt slightly humbled in his presence. “Is something the matter?”

“No. Not at all. However, there is something of great importance I wish to discuss with you.”

“I understand.”

“I think privately will be best.”

Privately? This intrigued Malik. “Very well. Inside the eyes of the goddess statue then?” Ganondorf looked to the edge of the town where a giant woman of stone observed the town.

“You can go inside?”

“Yes. I made it a place of pray and to chronicle our people.”

“How spiritual of you. Let’s not waste time. Still a night of celebration to share.” The two Gerudo men reminisced on their shared past as they made their way to the temple. Inside, Ganondorf and Malik took their seat in front of a mural of great Gerudo’s past. “Cousin, don’t think me rude, but I invited two others.”

"I swear, if Malik wanted me to drag my ass in here for another stupid test of his, I'mma choke him. Getting too old for that."

"Now, now, Rinku, I'm sure he just wants to talk without a ton of eyes upon us."

"I'm serious, I'm so over these tests of his, Zarazu! At least he learned his lesson with you."

"How so?"

"... you took the man's arm; he should be grateful you didn't take his dick." Rinku and Zarazu had no idea that the words in the temple could... echo.

Ganondorf turned to daughter as she made herself visible with Zarazu. “Colourful vocabulary.” Malik was surprised to see Zarazu and Rinku together. “I didn’t expect you both to be here.”

"You invited us?" Zarazu held a tone of questioning to her voice. "Unless I misunderstood, you wanted to meet with the holders of the Tri-Force?"

"Hey, I've heard worse from you, Ganondad." Rinku pointed a finger at Ganondorf.

“I did.”

“What is this all about?” Malik stiffened, uncertainty filling his being. His words said otherwise, but deep down his heart knew why they were all gathered now.

Ganondorf changed his gaze over to Malik, a deep and heavy look falling on him. “We are here to talk about The Triforce of Power’s new owner.”

Silence was cast over the room, and a shocking realization hit Malik now it was in the open air. “Me?”

"...?! WHAT?!" Rinku shook her head. "Wait, I thought Covarog was supposed to get the Tri-Force? He's next in line, no offense, Malik."

"I am... surprised myself." Zarazu stated slowly, not expecting this. "Might I ask why?"

“Rinku...” Ganondorf waiter until his eldest daughter was a little calmer before continuing. “Every child of mine, with the exception of you, carries a seed of darkness that I share. I fear the Triforce might corrupt them as it corrupted me.”

"Corrupt them?!" Rinku took offense to that. "All your kids are the best of you and Mom. Do you truly think that if you give the Tri-Force to Covarog that he'll turn dark?" She then said, "If you don't want to trust Covarog with it, then give it to Ralnor. Hell, give it to Orana or Kanisa, even Teb! They're not going to be corrupted! None of them are part of this curse that you, Mom, and I have repeated!"

“No. They both struggle with darkness in their choices. And I won’t expose Orana, Kanisa, or Tebanem to temptation of abuse. I need someone who’s motives are incorruptible. That knows the weight of true magic and power.”

"You have so little faith in them! Look at how much they all have overcome!" Rinku frowned and gestured to Zarazu. "They're married. They have families. They're happy! And not once ounce of lust for power within them! And you think Malik is the one? Good goddesses, look at what you both have done in the past!" Rinku exclaimed. "Look at how much bloodshed both of you have on your hands! He's a carbon copy of you, Ganondorf! This is not a good idea!"

“Have we not redeemed ourselves? Has he not suffered enough under my hands as much as any of my other past victims? He rose from being my tool to regaining his humanity.” Ganondorf sent a penetrating look at his daughter. “What’s more, he has never broken my trust. Even in the deepest depths of depravity he was always honest with his intentions.”

"Yeah, he regained his humanity, but not due to you." Rinku remarked with a glare of her own. "Due to her," She motioned to Zarazu, and then added, "And his wife. What do you think will happen if they're no longer around to keep him in check? Do you want me to have to strike him down like I had to do you in our past lives if he loses control?"

“I regained it due to me wanting my humanity back. I worked hard for it. I earned it.” Malik was about done with the hero talking down on him. “You speak as though you aren’t without blood on your hands. So many of your past lives ended entire bloodlines due and the ramifications can still be felt today. We keep each other in check. I was kept around to keep you in check since you were a child. So don’t patronize me.”

"I know I have blood on my hands and I regret my actions. Yet, I've never been influenced by power. That's your lot. You still seek it today, and you're blind to it." Rinku shook her head. "I don't agree with this. When Chaos comes, he'll use it against you to turn you to his side and you'll end up fighting with Luimaya instead of with her. I'm out of here." The heroine tromped out of the cave, steaming. Zarazu, on the other hand, had remained silent the entire time. Thinking.

Malik couldn’t help but laugh at the old Princess. Even now, she still had a young spirit. “You’re going down to a dead end.”

As she stomped around, Ganondorf was less amused. “Rinku. You aren’t being fair here. As Zelda trusted Zarazu, I trust Malik. Please... sit.” The old king was also tired. He didn’t want to argue this point.

Rinku was done with this conversation and refused to be a part of it further. She turned around, found another tunnel, and exited the cave to prove her point and kept walking.

"Maybe we should give her some space to think as well." Zarazu suggested, trying to keep Rinku and Ganondorf from arguing again as her sister-in-law left the temple.

“She’ll have to accept it.” With Rinku gone, Ganondorf sighed. “She’s in the dark, but I know you’re no fool to Ralnor’s darker actions in protecting Hyrule, even now. And for my eldest, I wasn’t completely sure until I heard Malik show Zannah respect where Covarog couldn’t let go of it his hatred of the Hasai. That is ultimately why I choose Malik over your husband Zarazu. Malik has shed his hate.”

Malik looked softly at Zarazu, wondering what she was thinking. “Rupee for your thoughts?”

"I can understand Rinku's view and your view, because I'm trying to be fair from a standpoint." Zarazu admitted to the men. "I'm well aware that my husband has flaws. Everyone does, we're human. However, I do think you should tell Covarog why he is not getting the Tri-Force of power. I won't lie, I'm sure it will hurt him. He has been looking forward to succeeding you in being a carrier because he wants to make you proud." She then continued, "Though, if Malik has the Tri-Force, I know you trust him and I know that he has more respect for the Hasai than my husband. I cannot help but wonder if you too will be immune to the temptation of power, my oldest friend." The queen was wise, for sure, though still cautious. "Many times in history, power has corrupted... are you sure that it's temptation will not affect you like it has Ganondorf?"

“I don’t know for sure. That’s why I want my friends and family to keep me honest. To use a seat and source of power for the betterment of all people.” Malik glanced over to Ganondorf, a sudden frown on his face. “If you give me your greatest source of power, you will lose your immortality. You might not live for long.”

“Who wants to live forever? No. Not me. As for Covarog, he knows how plenty proud I am of him.”

Finally, Ganondorf stood up from his bench. “Zarazu. I want your support on this. Do you think Malik is a good man? Do you think he can wield power in the name of peace?”

"... I do believe Malik is a good man. I do believe he sincerely wants the best for our people, for the Gerudo as well. Though, as said previously, there is always temptation." Zarazu looked at her own hand. There she saw the slight glow of the Tri-Force piece of Wisdom, reminding her there were always two sides to every tale. Those years ago before Zelda's death, she entrusted the Lorleidian queen with the Tri-Force of Wisdom. She did not want her daughters to carry the burden and trusted Zarazu to keep it safe. "Though we are only human, Ganondorf. Sometimes, even I feel the slight pull of the Tri-Force, calling me to use it. To dip into that magical essence that is so pure and addictive, that I have to be careful. I resist it for the sake of my family, my friends, and my kingdom." She held up her fingers glowing with magic. "If you want my support, and my utmost trust... then I must ask that we form a bind. This way, no matter where these pieces may end up... we will not let them fight against one another again." The queen then stated. "We'll revoke this curse."

“I can agree to that. If the pieces of the Triforce, ever, ever need to come together, then it will be for a wish of healing to the people.” Malik’s breath didn’t hitch as he reached a hand out to Zarazu to shake on this sacred pact.

"Not to destroy, but for peace." Zarazu took Malik's hand. "No longer destruction, but healing."

“For love, not hatred.”

"Agreed." Zarazu used her magic to implement the contract of the binding. A ring of runes in the Lorleidian language formed on her wrist and Malik's, identical in nature. "And if we break it... we die."

Malik nodded. When finished, he seemed almost somber when he spoke. Perhaps now was the time to tell his friend. “You should know that I’m not coming back to Hyrule. This is my home. With my people. They want to elect me to the position of Gerudo King. The sworn guardian. I’ve waited to be here again since I was a boy.”

"... I know." Zarazu simply replied to her friend. "I want you to be happy. Though I must be blunt with my next question." She took a small breath and said, "When the time comes... you will still remain loyal to my daughter?"

“I will be a friend that she can rely on.”

"She will need you." Zarazu actually looked... concerned. "As much as that snake gives me the creeps, I cannot deny his magic or his status. He said it will be soon... and I am worried."

“The Triforce bearers and the sages will need to protect the world.” Ganondorf stretched out, taking a deep breath. “Are you both prepared for that?”

"I am prepared for that. I am ready to give my life if it means my family will be safe." Zarazu clasped her hands together, her gaze downcast. "I am not ready to... to sacrifice my daughter. If what Bonegrinder says is true, and... his prophecy is correct..." It was hard for her to speak the words. "I've seen what has happened to Bonegrinder's mind. It is warped. He shares two souls in one body. He is a host for a deity and no longer his original self... if that happens to my Luimaya..."

“Bonegrinder is a freak. I won’t let him or anyone else hurt your daughter Zarazu.”

"... I trust you." Zarazu sighed, still thinking of what the future could hold. "I do think you need to check on Asa, Malik. From what Nakeso overheard when she went to take your wife some food from Gail, Revan and Donoma were... disagreeing."

“It is.” Ganondorf took a few sound breaths. Opening his right palm, a feint and soft glow emerged as a small golden triangle appeared. There was no celebration of grand ceremony behind it. The earth didn’t shake, and the sky didn’t change colour. It simply appeared. Ganondorf gently handed it to Malik to hold with both hands. “Take it.”

Zarazu simply waited in slight apprehension. She did not know what would occur once Malik took the piece.

Ganondorf stepped back as his cousin held the Triforce. Malik didn’t expect it to feel so warm, like a campfire. But with a squeeze of his right fist around it, he felt his heart light in a blaze of might. The Triforce connected to him physically, mentally, and spiritually. His breath felt freer, and he felt more alive then ever. One his palm, the triangle of the Triforce emerged from nothing, looking like tattoo. The top triangle lightly glowed, signifying the merger was a success. Malik, son of the desert and blade of the Gerudo, was now the weirder of Power.

"... Malik?" Zarazu finally spoke. "Are you all right?"

"I can relate." Zarazu took a slow inhale. It seemed he was still himself... for now. Maybe the fail-safe spell was keeping everything in check. Maybe Rinku was wrong and Malik would not be corrupted. Yet, personally, though she might not admit it, Zarazu was not willing to take that chance when it came to her daughter. If he tried to use it for evil... no, it was best not to think about it.

Malik took a few moments to self reflect. With the Triforce, he felt connected to life and magic on a deeper level in a near instant. To be truthful, it suddenly became overbearing. “I think I need to sit down.”

Zarazu formed a chair of ice for him to sit upon in the cave. "... the magic is overwhelming for a new holder." The queen then offered. "I can help you channel it for a bit to get you used to it."

“Give me a moment. I just need to adjust.”

"Close your eyes and try to imagine the flow of the magic." Zarazu instructed Malik, trying to make it easier for him. "You feel it within you, within your surroundings, and others... let it talk to you."

“Cousin, imagine the Triforce as a heart within you. It beats within you as a generator of life and magic. Ease into it. Should be similar to the magic you know.”

Malik nodded, feeling deep within and focusing on himself. Over the course of five minutes the man finally felt he had control over the new weight of his soul. “I’ll be fine now.”

"All right... let's just walk slow then. We'll need to help Ganondorf."

Malik took another breath, looking down at the yellow triangle burned upon his hand. He knew in his heart of hearts this was the key to bringing glory to the Gerudo and all of Hyrule.  

________________________________________________________________

Previous Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/622576982282141697/the-rising-sun-ch-4-uncertain-future

Next Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/622772431507062784/the-rising-sun-ch-6-like-father-like-son

Crossover with @ridersoftheapocalypse

#crossover story #ridersoftheapocalypse #Klinge/Malik #Asakonigei #Rinku #Zarazu #Ganondorf #Triforce #Gerudo

[lgceunji]

✧ .・゜゜royal canin commercial; coach

     that little voice, of whom everyone must face eventually, spoke to eunji with upmost urgency.      you are no longer the queen, eunji. you’re nothing. no one thinks you’re anything, anymore. you’re just a shitty dancer like all the other trainees.      she stood alone in her room. she figured getting beauty sleep in her own bed, in her own house, was the best way to wake up beautifully. she needed the absolute best sleep, the most water, and the best skin cream to make her look stunning. her stomach churned. she was hungry for more beauty, more anything, to make her perfect. why had she not gotten that eyelid surgery? it was illegal for someone her age to get it, and yet, she was deeply regretting not even trying for a procedure.      this isn’t easy anymore. you thought gym was easy? you thought coach slapping you all over and making you stay up all night was hard? this is harder. it’s harder because you’re nothing.      she stood in front of her vanity. she could not face herself in the mirror before her. she twisted her hands so that her wrists faced the mirror and her fingers faced herself. she rocked on them. she rocked on her toes. she bit her lip. she listened.      do you even hear yourself? you’re nothing but an ugly fuck. you’re so ugly you never should have done gym and you never should have come here. all you do is mess up you mess everything up everything. you wasted your time and your life now you’re in a fucking commercial. huh, no wonder they put you in a dog food commercial instead of the shelter ones. you’re not even pretty enough to belong in a shelter- you belong in a fucking pile of dog food.      eunji listened well.      do you hear me, eunji?      “yes.”      never had the voice growled so sincerely. it grabbed her by the jaw and jerked her head up. she was forced to face herself. she saw her nose grow red and her eyes weld.      you’re nothing.      “i am nothing.”      you’re no longer a queen.      her voice desperately cracked, “i- i am no longer. . .” her desperation turned into defeat. “a queen.”      her coach stood behind her.

     coach had held her in this way many times. she would be drug to the women’s locker room, deep into the night or early into the morning, and thrown against the counter. her coach stood behind her. she pressed her huge body into eunji’s tiny, barely pubescent one.      she would grab eunji’s jae and force her to look at herself. eunji cried. coach smacked her for doing so. she leaned into eunji more. she thought her hips would break.      “you are not good enough.” she would growl in eunji’s ears. she could not open her eyes to repeat it.      “eunji!” she yanked eunji’s hair up. she shrieked in pain.      the little girl knew she must open her eyes and face herself.      “i am not good enough i am not good enough please let me go!” eunji wriggled under the weight of a monster.      “ten times, girl, ten!”      “i am not good enough i am not good enough i am not good enough i-i-” she could barely breath. she gasped for air, “- am not good enough i am not good enough i am not good enough.” coach leaned in harder. she bent over so eunji’s diaphragm was squished. “i-i am not- good enough!” she saw herself. “i am not good enough i-i” she was turning red. she pushed against coach. the weight was too much.      she shrieked in horrid pain- her voice so high it smashed every window in the building, “i am not good enough!”      her coach let off.      she gasped hurriedly. she fell to the floor. from above her coach laughed.      “huh, you think you can go to the olympics like this?”      eunji held her waist. had her ribs broken?      “clean yourself girl, the floor is a horrid place to be.” her coach gently kicked her, with her metal foot, in the rear. “meet me in the lobby when you’re ready again- when you are good enough. do not come to me unless you promise to have perfected your whole routine.”      eunji, hiding in her yellow, matted hair, stared at the floor. she did not want to use her eyes. she looked so horrified in the mirror. she could not erase the image.      from behind her, she heard a clank, and a pat, and a clank, and a pat.      eunji looked at herself in the vanity’s mirror. she thought of pressing herself harder against the vanity. it hurt too much. she was too terrified to cry. she needed to look absolutely perfect for her very first, real, commercial.      you are not a queen.      “i am not a queen.” coach, who was only in the mirror, held her jaw high. eunji had no choice but to let her.      “i am not a queen, i am not a queen,” a deep breath. i can breath. “i am not a queen, i am not a queen, i am not a queen.”      a shuffling from outside her door. it was daddy’s slippers.      eunji threw off her shirt and held it in her hands. her dad walked in and she shrieked.      “waah! dad!” she looked at him with pretend horror. “why don’t you knock!”      “oh- woah! sorry, sweetheart.” he hid his eyes in his elbows. he still spoke to eunji, hand on the doorknob, as if it was nothing. when he looked away, she relaxed. “i just wanted to know when you needed a ride for your big day!”      she rolled her eyes with a groan, shirt still off in case he looked. she could not handle him seeing her red eyes. she was never to cry.      “ugh, dad, legacy is taking me, i don’t need a ride. just- shoo! go away! i’m still naked!”      “alright, alright. i just hope you have fun, sweetheart. i know you’ll do amazingly.” with that, he shut the door, and his feet shuffled away.      eunji let out a breath. it was from deep within her heart. she put her shirt on, calmly, staring at the door. he was gone, surely, and now she only had herself to stare at.      “daddy says i’m beautiful.” she shrugged to herself.      daddy is not your coach.      eunji furrowed her brows. she looked like a toddler in tantrum. “well, i don’t care!” she yelled at herself. “i’m going anyway, even if i do look ugly.” she crossed her arms and nodded.      she bounced out of her room and off to legacy for her big day.      she smiled, she beamed, and laughed all day. while having pictures taken, even, she would smile so brightly she out-shined any of the dogs or puppies she had posed with along the way.      the cameraman smiled and waved his hand to get the dog’s attention.      “look here, puppy, look here!” a staff member shook a toy.      eunji smiled at the camera.      i am not a queen.      “now look here!”      i am not a queen.      “okay, one more time!”      and i never will be again.

points: +5 modeling, +7 notoriety word count: 1,191

#lgc:gig011 #✧ .・゜゜solo #✧ .・゜゜events #swearing // #abuse // #crying // #( the halloween aes does not make this cheery ) #( ill try n post late when no ones on )

[gingerpeachtae]

Concentric [6]

masterlist

Words: 4.7k

Genres: fantasy!AU, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, eventual smut (?)

Warnings: spoilers for season 7&8 of Game of Thrones

Summary: You had been ready for the end of the semester. You had been ready to spend time away from your best friend, Jimin, and finally move on from the feelings you harbored. Yet, after your friend was forced to reveal a secret, you found yourself in a new world that was chock full of magic, war, and wonder. So, here you were, basically thrown into your own fantasy novel, with your best friend on one side, and six male warriors on the other.

A/N: Here it is! I ended up finishing it later than usual but earlier than anticipated, so instead of waiting till 11:59, imma just post it now!It’s a bit on the shorter side so I sowy but it’s what ya’ll get since I basically wrote this in one day oof. thank you all for reading... engoy! 😘

You were walking alongside Jin, who was currently babbling about how difficult it was to have to cook for the members of his kiela all the time.

“You just can’t imagine the stress! And they eat like animals!”

You looked at him out of the corner of your eye as you ducked beneath a branch. “Honestly, Jin… I don’t feel that bad for you because you were the one who turned down my help, remember?.”

At your retort, the Saeni huffed then mumbled something along the lines of maybe letting you help cut the vegetables or some other tiny task from now on.

You chuckled and repeated what you had told him before, “If you ever want or need help, just let me know Papa Jin. I’d be happy to lend a hand.”

Brushing some leaves out of your face, you sent the black-haired male a smile, hoping he would understand that you genuinely just wanted to help and not try to steal his “caretaker position.”

You waited until he sent you a smile back, and then you glanced around to see how everyone else in the kiela was doing. Personally, your legs wet sore as heck, and your feet felt like they were about to fall off from all the walking and running you’d been doing, but the others seemed to be in no distress at all. Then again, they were definitely more used to this kind of hiking than you were.

You had been on the move for a couple of hours, still trekking toward the group’s destination. The only difference was that now you knew what that destination was.

I hope that makes you happy, chickpea brain.

After Jungkook had left you and Jimin alone earlier, you were finally able to sit down and have your much-needed talk with your best friend.

“I don’t have an alarm! How the hell am I supposed to do that!?”

Jimin let out an exasperated puff of air. “You literally just got punched in the face… and making sure you’re up on time to get punched again is what you’re worried about?”

“Hey, if getting punched a few more times helps me learn how to protect myself, then I’m doing it.” You sat back down on the mat and looked up into Jimin’s brown eyes. “Enough about Coco and punching, though. We need to talk.”

Leaning back on your hands, you titled your head to the side. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re a prince?”

“Wha-who-I-not-n-no!” He stammered out. “I’m not a prince, don’t be ridiculous.” He ran a hand through his apricot locks and avoided eye contact with you.

“Oh, save it, Slim Jim. I know you’re a prince, so don’t even try to lie.”

The half-Saeni let out a groan, closing his eyes and tugging at the roots of his hair. “Who told you? It was Tae, wasn’t it? That feather-brain can never keep his mouth shut.”

“Oh my gosh, it wasn’t Tae. Have some bloody faith in your brother, would you?” You rolled your eyes. “It was the bad guys from yesterday. They said something about it after they knocked your ass out.”

Your friend dropped his hands and blew out all the air in his lungs before he finally replied, “I’m… I’m not really a prince. Some people just call me that because my father was the previous king.”

“So, what? You’re an ex-prince?”

“More like a bastard.”

“Wait, so you’re like the Jon Snow of Illain?” Your eyes twinkled in excitement.

Jimin raised his eyebrows and looked down at your buzzing figure. “You know that Jon wasn’t actually a bastard, right?”

“Eh.” You waved your hand dismissively. “With how the writers treated that information in season eight, he might as well have still been one.”

“That… is a fair point.”

The conversation died down and all you could hear was the sound of the forest for what seemed like several minutes but was probably only ten seconds.

“Jimin…”

“Yeah?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Jimin had sat down next to you and explained why knowing his heritage was dangerous, for you and him. He began his story by having you recall how his mom had stumbled into Illain (you still weren’t sure how that would happen, but hey, no point wondering about it now) and met and fell in love with his dad. What he had left out, was that his dad had been the king of Illain and was already in an arranged marriage. He didn’t love the queen and vice versa, but nevertheless, he had to keep his relationship with Jimin’s mom a secret. Both because it would have been considered taboo in addition to how it would have caused an uproar among the court officials.

Shortly after Jimin’s mom found out she was pregnant, the queen discovered the relationship and… she had not been pleased. She ended up murdering Jimin’s father and tried to kill his mom as well. Luckily, she had been able to escape back to Earth with the help of a friend, who had been one of the few who knew about her.

Once the king’s guard (who didn’t exactly excel at their job, in your opinion) caught the queen and interrogated her, it was reported that she kept saying that she wanted to see Illain fall into chaos and how she needed to eradicate the “key within the bloodline.” Whatever that meant. Nobody could really make sense of her, it was like she had suddenly went batshit insane.

After the events, nobody thought much of her words, beyond them being those of a crazed person. The world grieved and then crowned a new king. Eventually, the Saeni forgot about what the previous queen had said… until five years later. Stories rose up about an anarchist who preached about unleashing pain and suffering upon all of Illain. Those who felt as though the world was against them, that life hated them, that the gods mistreated them, were captivated by his message and joined his ranks. They began terrorizing Illain in the name of an unknown person, Uzjuk, and were soon known as the draikensu, or “the dark ones.”

Over the years, the draikensu had somehow learned that the deceased king had had a child out of wedlock, and they turned their attention to finding that child. To finding him and eradicating the “key” that lived within him. Nobody knew what they meant by that, but it was clear that it was not safe for Jimin to be honest about who he was. Which was why he goes by Chim in Illain and why he didn’t tell you the full story from the beginning. Those who know of his heritage are not only in danger themselves, but they also put Jimin at risk of being exposed. The only ones who are supposed to know are Jimin’s kiela, his father’s friend (who was the new king), and now you. Though, obviously, somebody else must have figured it out because the draikensu from yesterday had known.

As for your destination, Jimin had informed you that he had been summoned to the royal palace. He didn’t know exactly why and neither did his kiela, who had been sent to retrieve him, but the king had said he was needed urgently.

What a fucking shit show.

You had gotten some answers, but in their wake, more questions had sprung up. Who the hell was Uzjuk? What was the “key” within Jimin? Why did the king need him? Do the Saeni even train their royal guard? You pondered the questions as you stepped around a big hunk of rock that was covered in moss. Yet, although more unknowns had arisen, there was one thing you definitely knew: there was no way in hell you weren’t going to learn how to fight now. It was only a matter of time before more of those draikensu fuckers came after Jimin again. You needed to be ready. You wanted to help protect him. There was only one week left of travelling before you reached the royal palace, and you didn’t know what was going to happen once you got there. Would you be able to continue training with Jungkook? Would you all turn around and go back to the tree bridge?

Ugh. More questions!

No matter the case, anything was better than nothing, so you were going to make the most of the asshat’s training in the upcoming week.

“Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Come on, little scorja! Wake your cute ass UP!”

You groaned and tried to push the weight on top of you off, but it only collapsed onto you even more and began poking your sides.

You cracked an eye open and whined, “Tae! Let me sleep!”

It was so damn early that your petals from yesterday were still in effect.

“Nu’uh! A little flower, aka you, told me yesterday that you needed to be up two hours earlier than usual to go to school.” He hoisted you up and you hung limply in his arms, making him hold your dead weight. “So, I’m your alarm clock and I say it’s time to get up!”

He emphasized his words by giving your body a hard shake. You reacted by slapping a hand over his face and then smacking him again and again in various locations on his head.

“Where’s the freaking off button?”

You continued smacking him until you heard his whimpers of how he had just wanted to help. You looked up into his pouting blue eyes and instantly succumbed to them.

Dammit. He knows how to get to me.

“Ugh, fine.”

He beamed, mood instantly shifting back to delighted. He gripped your head in his hands, squishing your cheeks and contorting your face into a forced, closed-lipped smile. “Ah! There’s that pretty, scorja smile!”

That made you genuinely laugh, and you peeled his hands away while stuck your tongue out at him. Then you pulled him into a hug, and whispered into his ear, “Thanks for waking me up, Tae.”

“You’re welcome,” he whispered back. “Oh! Here are your petals for the day.”

You took the delicate objects out of his palm and popped them into your mouth, stretching once their disorienting effects went away. You looked around and noticed that, besides Yoongi giving the two of you a glare for waking him up, the rest of the kiela was still snoozing away except for…

“Good, you’re up. Let’s go.”

You looked over your shoulder and saw Jungkook dropping down from a tree. He had a bow and quiver in his hand, and you wondered where he got it from since you hadn’t seen them before.

“I’ll see you later Tae Tae!” You parted after giving the Saeni a kiss on his cheek.

“They grow up so fast.” He wiped away nonexistent tears as he returned to his on-watch spot. “Learn lots and be safe!

You approached the burgundy-haired Saeni while chuckling. “Good morning, Coco.”

He grumbled out a “good morning, human” and started walking into the trees, leaving you to trail after him.

Jogging to catch up, you asked, “Where’d you get that bow? It’s not Tae’s and I didn’t think anyone else had one, besides Jimin of course, but his is… I don’t know where it is.” You briefly paused to admire a funky looking plant with wavy leaves before continuing. “Is that Jimin’s?”

Jungkook raised a brow at your talkative attitude, bewildered you were that peppy after just waking up. “Not Jimin’s. It’s a spare we keep in a … magic locker? I’m not completely sure how it works, but Yoongi is able to tuck things away into a space and I asked him to bring this out for you last night. It’s one of Tae’s old bows that he used during training. It’ll be easier for you to draw with.”

“Oh. Um, thanks for having him do that.”

It was another small glimpse into the thoughtful and soft side of Jungkook that often, or more like ninety-five percent of the time, disappeared around you.

After the two of you had walked far enough into the foliage to not wake up the others, Jungkook abruptly stopped, which caused you to stumble as you tried to evade running smack dab into his back.

As you regained your balance and moved around to face him, he said, “Okay, today we’re going to start by correcting your pathetic punching technique and then we’re going to do some tests with various weapons to-”

“You’re going to let-”

“Uh… I’m not finished.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

You couldn’t stop your snort. “Geez, who are you? Tyler the Creator?”

“No. I’m Jungkook the Maknae.” He said in a serious tone, lifting his chin up.

You blinked at him. “I… literally cannot stand you.”

“Perfect. We’re on the same page then, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart? Wooow.” You smirked and placed your hands on your hips. “I’ve really gotten an upgrade on my nickname.”

“I swear to Exia, if you don’t let me finish, little human-”

“Oop. There it is.”

He growled.

“Alright, alright.” You raised your hands to signal your peace. “I’ll stop and be a good girl for you.”

Jungkook’s body froze and his pupils dilated as he stared at you. The only movement coming from his form was now the rising and falling of his chest.

You furrowed your brows. Sure, your words could’ve sounded a bit sexual, but you didn’t think you had to worry about the male in front of you thinking that way. Not with his low opinion of you. Plus, some part of you was still convinced that the boy was celibate as hell. Though, you found it odd that he wasn’t moving or taking his green eyes off of you.

“Jungkook?” You pursed your lips.

His eyes bugged out at your voice and he looked away before clearing his throat. “Ah, as I was saying, we’ll test out different weapons to see what kind of fighter you’ll be. Hence why I got the bow. You’ll also try out some throwing knives, a dagger, and a short sword.”

Anticipating your question, he quickly rolled his eyes and said, “Yes, I’m letting you use my short swords.”

“I just figured that you wouldn’t want anyone else touching your shit. Especially me. You seem a little… possessive in that way.”

He shrugged, shifting his gaze to the leaves above his head. Though you didn’t miss his hand moving to gently touch the handle of his ruby dagger.

That must be the thing he gets stingy with. I wonder what’s so special about it?

“We won’t be trying out a normal sword though, because, quite frankly, you just aren’t strong enough for that.”

You couldn’t even get mad at him for saying that since it was probably, most likely, definitely true.

Before anything else happened, Jungkook set down the spare bow and its quiver and led you through a series of static and dynamic stretches. Even though you already knew how to properly warm up your body, you were a dancer for crying out loud, you let him do his thing. Not only did you not want to piss him off, but he was also the one who offered to train you, so you were going to listen and do as he instructed… But he didn’t need to know that you were more focused on the birds’ singing and chirping than his voice while you stretched your quad.

“Alright, I want you doing that before every session, got it?”

You gave him a salute after brushing off your dirt-covered butt. “Aye, aye captain.”

He then directed you to show him how you held your hand during a punch. You did so, and he immediately sighed. He took your fist in his rough, scar-covered hands and turned it this way and that, observing and clicking his tongue in dissatisfaction.

“At least your thumb isn’t inside your fist. It’s good you know not to do that.” He prodded at the appendage. “Move it to rest below your curled fingers, between your pointer and middle fingers.”

After allowing him to adjust you as he saw fit, he also told you to squeeze your fist more, but not to the point of cutting off circulation. You listened attentively to his directions as a crisp morning breeze ruffled both of your hair. When he was pleased with your first, he nodded.

Tapping the knuckles of your ring and pinky fingers, he said, “Never lead your punch with these because it’ll break the shit out of your hand. And don’t try to make contact with this part,” he rubbed the flat part of your fingers that was between the knuckles, “always make contact with your actual knuckles, okay?”

“Okay.”

He went on to show you the proper stance as well as the best way to utilize your weight and momentum in an attack.

“Before I have you practicing actual punches on me, I want you to just practice the action to get the movement and feeling down so that you’re comfortable with it.”

With that, he told you that you were now going to start working with some weapons. Not to learn any advanced moves with them, but to simply see if you had a natural affinity for a any certain type. Your mind reeled a bit at how he wanted you to practice before punching, but was about to hand over some weapons and just… let you have at it? It seemed a wee bit backwards to you, but oh well. You were honestly more surprised with how patient and informative Jungkook had been thus far. He had yet to be condescending or snappy toward you. Instead, he gave off the impression that he was… excited. It was apparent that he really enjoyed fighting, both physically and conversationally. Even if it was just teaching a little human like yourself the basics, his voice was lighter and his eyes brighter than they usually were in your presence.

You were brought out of your head when he handed you a throwing knife, the coolness of the metal making you jump out of your thoughts. The blade was about ten inches long with cut-outs and it had a thick, sharp point. He told you that the end you hold when throwing depends on the blade, and to always hold whichever end is heavier, as it creates a more forceful throw. You hummed, and he moved on to show you how the grip the knife: pointer, middle, and ring fingers on one side, thumb on the other, and pinky finger curled at the bottom. When you finally grasped the blade correctly, he made a noise of satisfaction and eased it out of your hand. Then, he demonstrated how to move your body and follow through on the throw. He repeated the motion a couple of times and on the third he calmly released the knife and it embedded itself deep into a tree trunk a solid 25 feet away.

You whistled. “Well hot damn, Coco.”

He smirked at you and told you to go through the motion. You felt like you were transported back to when you were in little league softball, learning how to throw a ball for the first time. After several minutes of you throwing nothing and him tweaking your form, he gave you another knife identical to the previous.

Taking a deep breath and settling yourself into position, you waited for a big gust of wind to subside. Once it passed, you brought your arm back, took a small step, and threw the knife forward. Er… you had wanted the knife to go forward. You must have released prematurely, though, because it went up and to the right instead. Wincing, you held your breath as you waited for the asshat to say something about your misshap.

“Again.” He only handed you another blade.

This time, the knife went forward, but it still missed the tree by a good 10 feet.

“Again.”

Another blade. And another miss. This one to the left of the tree, since you had tried to compensate for your previous blunder.

“Well… that wasn’t as bad as Namjoon hyung, I’ll give you that. Though it still kind of sucked.” His green eyes met yours and you were shocked to see that they held no malice. “And yeah, yeah, yeah, I know ‘it’s your first time,’ but I don’t think you’ll be our new Hobi, sweetheart.”

“I… yeah, me neither.” You released a stream of light laughter as you thought about your failed attempts. “What’s next?”

“Dagger.” Jungkook reached behind him and withdrew a short, curved blade.

“What the heck,” you gasped, “I didn’t even know you had a dagger back there.” You ogled at him like he had just performed a magic trick.

He raised an eyebrow at you, mouth slightly curving upward. “That’s kind of the point, little human. It’s supposed to be hidden.”

Once your awe at his abracadabra moment faded, he asked if you had ever used a dagger before.

“No? Well, um, not before the… tent,” you said in a small voice.

“Oh, right.” He coughed awkwardly. “Uh, so anyway, you know how to use it on a surface level, yeah?”

You gestured to the end of the dagger, which was gleaming in the morning sunlight. “Stick ‘em with the pointy end.”

Come on… there was no way you couldn’t say that.

He looked at you blankly for a few moments, and you were about to tell him it was just a reference, but then he tipped his head back and yelled.

“Not that fucking line again! Chim wouldn’t stop saying it one summer and it haunts me!”

“Wait, you know Game of Thrones?”

“Is that what it’s called? I don’t know, sure. But that’s a quote from the wolf girl, right?”

You excitedly nodded and clapped your hands together rapidly, hoping you could take a short break and talk about the show.

The burgundy head moaned in defeat. “And to think I already had all the reasons to not like you, you go on and say that.” He chuckled to himself in pity.

You didn’t join him, though. The brightness of your eyes died at his words and you looking away from him.

Why are you so upset, Y/N? You knew he didn’t like you.

Well, maybe if he wasn’t so fucking back and forth between being civil and then saying something like that out of the blue, it wouldn’t be so shocking. You had also thought that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t dislike you anymore after the whole draikensu ordeal. Or at least, you thought that he wouldn’t be so openly vocal about it. Looks like you were wrong.

When he realized that you had gone silent, and he thought back to what he had said, his green eyes widened.

“I didn’t-I mean, I don’t…” He sighed when he saw all the playfulness gone from your y/e/c eyes when you returned your gaze to him. “Anyways, here’s how you use it.”

Eventually, you disregarded his comment and focused on the matter at hand. You knew you wouldn’t be drawn toward fighting with a dagger, especially after the other day, but you didn’t want to half-ass your way through it. After going through the dagger and the short sword, both of which you were mediocre at, Jungkook picked up the bow.

Prior to handing it to you, though, he presented an arm guard. Quickly slipping it over your wrist, you grabbed the bow and one of the arrows he offered.

Much to his surprise, you already knew how to notch an arrow. You threw a smirk his way. You also vaguely remembered the basic grip and stance for archery, so you fell into what you hoped was the proper form.

Thank you, middle school archery seminar.

Ignoring your smug display, Jungkook crossed his arms and told you to draw back. Gritting your teeth slightly at the tension, you did and waited as circled and assessed you. After a while, your arms were beginning to shake from holding the position, your muscles not used to that kind of exertion.

“You need to raise your arm a little bit.”

He stepped up right behind you, bringing his chest flush to your back, in order to correct your form. As you felt his firm front pressed against you, you flashed back to when you saw him shirtless. To when his muscles were out on full display and his thick thighs were evident through his damp plants. You recalled how utterly good he had looked, half-naked and dripping water.

Shit. Y/N, snap out of it!

You shook your head like the physical action would make the thoughts fly out of your mind.

“No?” You heard Jungkook question.

“Wha-huh?”

“I asked if feels comfortable for you? The position?”

Hell yes, does it feel comfortable… AH STOP IT! HE’S TALKING ABOUT THE SHOOTING POSITION, YOU HORNY IMBECILE!

Coughing, you choked out a yes. He looked down at you in confusion for your weird reaction, but instead of inquiring about it he just hummed and stepped away.

You were almost appalled with yourself. Yeah, he was really good looking, hot even, but how could you be thinking about the asshat in that way? You know, the person who basically hated your guts? Not to mention the fact that you had a big, fat, lovey-dovey crush on your best friend… and Jungkook was most definitely not your best friend!

You seriously wondered how he could make you feel so many different things in such a short span of time. You had gone from perky, to teasing, annoyed, happy, excited, disappointed, angry, and finally hot and bothered all within two damn hours.

You were so confused by this male and his words and actions. It was truly exhausting to try to keep up with his mood swings. You dropped your arms with an irked sigh, lowering the bow and bringing some relief to your straining arms.

“Everything okay?” The Saeni asked, his voice sounding slightly concerned.

“Yeah, I’m just… my arms aren’t used to this, and they were hurting. Go ahead and make fun of me for being such a weak, little human.” You had tried to add some fire behind your last statement, but it came out with barely a flicker of heat. You were just too confused as to whether you wanted to be turned on, mad, spiteful, or ashamed.

“Whoa, hey look, I’m sorry for what I said earlier… about, you know, not liking you… it’s just-I don’t-”

“You don’t have to like me, Jungkook. I don’t need every person I come across to like me.”

“It’s not that, it’s-I don’t know-”

You whirled around to face him, and you could see that his face was heating up. Yours was too, but yours was in complete frustration.

“Well, if you don’t know, then can you figure it out for fuck’s sake? If you like me, then great, like me and be pleasant toward me. If you don’t like me, then fine, don’t like me and be a dick.” You were in his face at this point, poking his solid chest with your pointer finger. “I just need you to fucking stop with the going back and forth! I never know which Jungkook I’m going to get, and I’m constantly worried I’ll say something to set you off and I don’t know what it’ll be, and it’s so. Damn. Annoying!”

You turned back around and raised the bow, shooting at a nearby tree. Although it didn’t hit where you had aimed, the arrow still thumped into the trunk nonetheless. Jungkook gaped at you as you angrily faced him once more and shoved the bow at him.

“I want to be an archer. And I want to learn hand to hand fighting. Does that sound good with you? Alright, perfect.” You didn’t even give him a chance to reply before you began stomping your way back to camp. “Thanks for the lesson Coco, I’ll practice the punching and see you bright and early tomorrow.”

As the burgundy-haired male watched your back vanish into the trees he let out a curse and crouched down, gripping his head with both hands. He stayed that way for minutes, letting himself be enveloped by the sounds of the leaves, birds, and bugs… but it wasn’t enough to make the sound of your echoing voice disappear from inside his head. He released a loud noise of annoyance and frustration, and moved a hand to clutch the handle of the dagger strapped to his waist before whispering to the trees, “What the fuck am I doing?”

previous [5] — next [7]

#concentric #bts #bts series #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fluff #bts angst #bts slow burn #bts enemies to lovers #jimin x reader #jungkook x reader #jeongguk x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #park jimin #jeon jungkook #jimin #jungkook #namjoon #jin #yoongi #taehyung #hoseok #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #kim taehyung #min yoongi #jung hoseok #fantasy!bts #fantasy!au

[c-is-for-circinate]

It occurs to me that I promised y’all I’d tell you stories from the D&D campaign I’m running, and it’s now been a week since the first session, so I should definitely do some of that!  I can already tell it’s going to be a fun-as-shit campaign.  If nothing else, my party and I are collectively five variably-queer ladies who met at knitting group and range in age from “haven’t played D&D since 2e at GenCon in the 90′s” to “too young to remember fandom before AO3 existed”.  We’re real fucking cool.  I am going to have to explain, in detail, so many textiles and other interesting crafts.

I am a WORDY-ASS MOTHERFUCKER, so the whole tale will probably get pretty long in the telling, but: welcome to the continent of Nokomoris, on a world that probably has its own name but I haven’t decided on it yet because naming things is hard, dude.

[here’s where I will probably link game session posts in the future once they exist]

Hark, a backstory!  (And, our four players)

IF YOU RECOGNIZE THIS CAMPAIGN INFO BECAUSE YOU ARE PLAYING IT, CONSIDER YOURSELF UNDER DM ORDERS TO BACK OFF AND STOP READING.  I KNOW YOU FUCKERS ARE ON TUMBLR TOO, THERE IS A REASON I DIDN’T GIVE YOU MY HANDLE.  (I love you all very much and yes, there are spoilers in here.  Go away and text me now.)

Eastern Nokomoris, where our story takes place (or at least begins) is in a prosperous age of thriving city-states and collapsed kingdoms.  Most trade, culture, and even centralized government is based among the Nine Cities, massive metropolises located around the Attiks Sea and nearby lands.  Nearly a million people live in the nine cities, which are connected to each other via well-established sea and land trade routes, and also by what many are calling the most important technological/magical development of the modern age: a network of massive permanent teleportation circles, thirty feet in diameter.

The circle network is big enough to carry large trade wagons, livestock, huge parties of people, and even troops and war machines.  Sea and land trade has dropped by half between the Nine Cities in the past fifteen years, and continues to decline.  The cities themselves are thriving and prosperous, and it’s easier than ever to get beef and leather from Karna Vi, wool from Yefira, pottery from Celkan or metalwork from Tiers no matter where you live.

Outside of the cities, it’s another story.  Dozens of once-prosperous kingdoms, and even the whole of the Trava Empire, have fallen in the past seventy years: first during the Church Wars, and then in the yeas of chaos and rebuilding once the Wars were over.  Small towns everywhere that once paid taxes to a crown, and were protected in turn by royal troops and much-needed aid in times of hardship, have been left entirely to stand or fall on their own.  Some have thrived, becoming local centers of trade for whole coalitions of abandoned towns nearby.  Others have disappeared, died out, or simply faded into the wilderness, forgotten.  The great open plains of Highnorth where the Trava Empire once ruled, the endless golden sea of the Southgrass, the peaks and valleys of the Thavine Mountains, the deep many-colored forest of the Iris Peninsula--who knows what’s out there any more?

And in the Midlands, where the worst of the Church Wars took place...well, precious few towns even survived to rebuild in the first place.  Land that once held the most fertile farms in all Nokomoris is desolate now, scarred and cursed.  Most of the battlefield has been picked over by intrepid adventurers and out-of-work soldiers in the six decades since the Wars ended, already raided for magic and treasure.  The ruins remain, and the valleys where nothing will ever grow again, and the eternal shadow over the once-Holy City, and who knows what sorts of twisted things living in places people no longer go?

But it’s been sixty years since the Church Wars ended, and for most people, life is good.  Small-town farmers may no longer have the protection of any crown, but small technological advancements in plow design and crop rotation mean that they can produce more food than they need and sell the extra in the nearest city for coin.  More and more young people, freed from heavy labor on their parents’ farms, have learned reading, writing, history, and some amount of arcane talent.  The Grand Universities in the nine cities are thriving, full of scholars of all ages eager to learn and advance the course of knowledge everywhere.

Of course, there are ten times more scholars in the Grand Universities than there are professorships or other high-ranking positions to hire them to...and that is where our story begins.

.

Our intrepid party thus far includes:

Marion, a human paladin of indeterminate gender, whose human family stands among the nobles of the great city of Karna Vi, where our story begins.  Marion is an acolyte of the Church of Lost Things, which concerns itself with every god that does not easily fit within the purview of the other seven Churches, and also with every god that has been erased or forgotten by time (for all gods deserve worship, and all gods are capable of smiting those that neglect them, sooner or later).  They’re also a math major, largely because computer science hasn’t been invented yet.

Marion’s really hoping to be able to build and program a simple computing machine, a la Babbage’s Difference Engine (or Arthur C. Clarke’s The Nine Billion Names of God), to tabulate and generate all the possible names of every god ever to exist, which seems much more efficient than just combing piecemeal broken historical records trying to find them.  It has not been going well.  In a Church system where paladins are often more concerned with protecting people from the gods than for the gods, cracking this problem will let Marion figure out who the gods even are like nobody ever before.  But there are variables missing, and theomathematical constants they can’t even identify yet, let alone calculate--and they’re not going to find here.

Three interesting facts about Marion, as per their player: 

They once spent an entire week holed up in a lab over a holiday break and were declared missing-presumed-dead.  Police searches were involved.  It was a little bit of a scandal.

They are by far the most unremarkable and constantly forgotten member of their entire family.  (This perhaps says more about their family than about them.)

Everyone on campus is fairly sure they interfered with the campus clock tower specifically to give students more time on finals last semester.  This is false.  They were trying to run a different experiment entirely, messed with the clock tower by accident, and didn’t actually notice it was finals week even after it was over.

Kevin, an elf barbarian sportsball champion, hero of the university’s sportsball team for the past ten years straight.  Kevin is a foot and a half taller than any self-respecting elf ought to be, not to mention twice as broad.  He’s finally starting to acknowledge the fact that there is, in fact, no NFElf, and you can’t be a “professional sportsballer” within the Elven Ascendancy, and his bemused parents would really like him to do something with his life beyond playing those little games with the ball and all of those...non-elf people.

Kevin is also an art history student, mostly out of desire for an easy major that’ll make his parents happy while he happily spends most of his time out on the sportsball field.  He’s got high strength, basic middle intelligence, and negative wisdom.  He’s sat through more history classes than the entire rest of the party put together.  He understands approximately none of it.  Still--he can’t do sports forever, and art history makes his parents happy, and he might as well go on a quest to uncover lost art and artifacts and maybe prove he’s an actual adult sooner than later, right?

Three interesting facts about Kevin, as per his player:

Back in his home city playing little league sportsball, there were definite (and accurate) rumors about this wild elf that could and would straight-up squish opposing players.  That’s how the college recruiters found him in the first place.  It’s definitely why they wanted him.

He has so many groupies.  So many.  They come in so many different species and genders and Kevin is on board with every single one.  (On board?  On bed?  On convenient flat surface?  Does it particularly matter?  Not to Kevin!)

Kevin is covered in tattoos, and there are all sorts of rumors about what sort of eldritch magic they hold--like, that panther is probably a real panther bound by elven magic, right?  A pretty persistent rumor suggests that the tattoos all commemorate individual opposing team members he’s...either hospitalized or fucked, or both, literally nobody is sure.  (In point of fact, none of the above are true, and Kevin just has terrible taste in tattoos and a pretty stunning lack of both impulse control and supervision--but why quash the stories?)

Kou, a halfling bard whose girlfriend just left three weeks ago on a research expedition of her own, taking with her approximately 85% of Kou’s impulse control.  In theory, Kou is an alchemy major, studying science to make her scholar parents happy.  In practice, she probably spends more time sneaking into music seminars and/or busking on the street for spare change than actually doing alchemy, but her girlfriend was a Good Responsible Influence who made sure Kou didn’t get kicked out of the department, and to be fair, alchemy can blow things up sometimes so that’s always good.

Kou doesn’t so much have plans for the future as vague, contradictory aspirations, but that doesn’t mean she’s not smart.  She’s learned enough magic to use a set of recording stones to play, loop, and modulate beats or bits of music, thereby making her Nokomoris’s very first DJ, and she really wants to be a professional musician someday.  She just hasn’t figured out how to reconcile her dreams with her parents’ wishes, the lives they’ve worked so hard to create, or a halfling cultural legacy that has more to do with riding around snowfields covered in furs waving spears than it does with brightly-colored house parties.

Three interesting facts about Kou, as per her player:

Kou very definitely once spent a full day dressed up in halfling traditional garb, furs and all, including a very fuzzy fur hat.  It wasn’t until that evening that somebody saw the hat move and everyone realized she’d been wearing a curled-up live fox the whole time.

She once managed to create an incredibly destructive compound in alchemy lab out of ingredients that should not have actually been able to react that way.  She found out it was corrosive when she accidentally spilled it on six months’ worth of a different professor’s lab notes.  (She got an A anyway, because her lab professor hated the other guy, but that has more to do with Professors Ayanova and M’tiersi than Kou, really.)

She absolutely goes down to counter-protest every damn time those Family First assholes try to rally downtown in favor of child-producing (read: heterosexual, single-species) families.  Rumor says she once broke her guitar over a protester’s head, which horrifies her--Kou’s guitar is the most expensive thing she owns!  She used their own protest sign, like a sensible person.

Reigenleif, a mostly-female-probably gnome rogue known around campus as “Beer Run” for her skills at somehow always having access to better and cheaper beer than anyone else, and her general willingness to deliver to parties (for a small additional fee).  Reigenleif’s parents are small-time forgers who ended up mostly working for a local crime organization after a series of bad luck and political upheavals brought them to Karna Vi a few decades ago.  They really want their kids to go clean, avoid all the uncertainties and occasional jail sentences/executions that accompany a life of crime, and maybe make a little something of themselves.  Reigenleif, who has zero interest in staying on the right side of the law, mostly does odd jobs for a different, not-technically-rival criminal organization, and carefully does not tell her parents about it, ever.

Technically she’s an engineering major, and she’s more than got the brains for it, plus the accompanying curiosity about metallurgy and arcane artificing.  Still, she spends most of her time helpfully involving herself in other peoples’ projects rather than running her own.  (Her own projects have a lot more to do with figuring out new forging techniques and criminal tricks, and don’t look very good in the end-of-year department report.)  Enjoys causing trouble, not being in it.

Three interesting facts about Reigenleif, as per her player:

She absolutely owns a copy of the provost’s signet ring, which she can and has used to create documents allowing herself access to all sorts of University resources.  Like most things, she’ll share the use of it, quietly, for a price.  (She also owns a copy of Marion’s family signet ring, which is a much longer story that I as the DM do not know yet--can’t wait for that.)

Once captured and maneuvered a live swan into somebody’s office to cause as much chaos as possible so Reigenleif could get up to something somewhere else.  Is a little bit of a legend for it.

Aside from her not-actually-that-impressive family legacy of crime, Reigenleif’s spread a quiet rumor around school that she’s descended from the famous marauding pirate, Thrand Slender-Leg.  It’s possible that Thrand Slender-Leg never actually existed.  It’s possible that nobody had ever heard of him before Reigenleif made him up.  She’s certainly not telling.

#C the DM #dungeons and dragons #The Yarn Crew goes adventuring