#now from this point forward we see her further doubt her place as a prominent political figure in oz

[lesbiten]

happy 1 in the morning im sitting here trying to understand why glinda did not end up with elphaba im really trying to understand

#or i guess mroe specifically why did she end up as the leader of oz #i mean like.......you ... could ? argue ? that she wants to be the ruler ? ?? ? ? #but looking at her beyond the surface level of her character that falls apart so quickly #yes she likes the attention from being a prominent political figure but more important she hates having to pretend to be someone shes not #and like yeah. im sure she somewhat enjoyed her time as Glinda the Good in the years between act 1 and act 2 #because she could tell herself that she made the right choice and elphaba was probably alive and she had a fiance etc etc #but like. after a few years that starts to wear down (aka what happens in thank goodness where she starts to seriously have doubts) #now from this point forward we see her further doubt her place as a prominent political figure in oz #and like yeah. yes she sends the wizard away and yes she puts morrible in prison #and thats done away with the Main Reason Why Oz Was Politically Corrupt #but like at this point. what reason does she have to stay? #she doesnt have fiyero. she doesnt have elphaba. she doesnt want to be a political figure. #the entire town is cheering for the death of her ''best friend'' who she swore not to defend to protect herself #and even if she can do what she does best and Convince herself that shes happy and that she can rebuild oz and she can be Glinda the Good #as we see in thank goodness!!! thats not going to last!!! #and now its not just her dealing with 'oh no elphaba is out there alone and in danger' #she has to deal with 'elphaba and fiyero are dead because of me and now i have to be happy in front of the town' #'and i can never tell anyone else how i really feel or what really happened' #besties i dont think she would survive long under that kind of stress!!!!!!! #anyways this is my way of saying. if this musical is so hell bent on making elphaba and fiyero run away and letting glinda think theyre dead #then i know in my heart that after like. a year maximum. glinda would snap and go looking for them #especially after things begin to pile up like. wheres fiyeros body. wheres elphabas hat #and maybe theres been a couple of sightings of them. i mean. even if they try to be as remote as possible #if youre just passing by its pretty hard to miss a scarecrow and his green girlfriend #you know #WOW THESE TAGS ARE LONGGGGG #i can talk about glinda for so long #SHBDHSABDHSBABAHAHAH #well i had more to say but i think. i think this is enough #simon says

[yanderechuu]

do any of the teachers ever notice the things happening to y/n? (i headcannon Mic and Midnight as yanderes that would give advice to 1A lol)

yandere!Class 1A x fem!reader

[2.1K]

Summary: Aizawa is the first one you approached in regards to your certain predicament.

Warning: nonconsensual recording

│

Aizawa suspected something wasn’t quite right by the moment he saw you entering the class a minute before the bell rang, all haggard and teary-eyed, though you tried your best to obscure your disposition. He always knew you to often be in a state of discomfort whenever you were compelled to socialize, especially with your classmates, but now - you looked as if you reached your limit of holding the weight of the world on your shoulders, crashing down all at once as depicted on your crestfallen expression. 

And when you showed up in front of the faculty room, timidly soliciting his presence, his suspicions were only further verified. Even with a pending question regarding subject matters in your mind, you weren’t one to approach a teacher to inquire about it, and if you did it was because the teacher was the one who would ask your attendance; never the other way around.

Present Mic was the first one to acknowledge you. He stood up from his office chair, waving at you comically. “Yo, (l/n)! Having trouble with English again?”

You never had a problem with his subject; he only insisted that you’d come to him in regards to that. “N-no, not really. May I speak to Aizawa-sensei?”

“Talk with me instead!” He enthusiastically spoke and headed over to you. “Come on, what’s the matter?”

“It isn’t your place to ask that when I’m here.” Aizawa interceded, clearly unimpressed by Mic’s antics. He failed to see the latter’s displeased countenance. “(L/n), what is it?”

You avoided eye contact with him, averting your view to the ground - that was alright. You were always like this, and he didn’t mind. Nothing out of place except for the fact that it looked as if you were about to cry any moment now.

“Can we- can we, um, talk somewhere more private?” You asked quietly.

His brows raised in wonder at your request. Nevertheless, he didn’t decline you, only nodding lackadaisically before heading towards the teacher’s lounge, where you followed him suit. He flicked the door tag to ‘occupied’ and entered the room after you, when he told you sit on the three-person sofa situated not quite on the farthest left of the space. Then, he settled himself on the chair across you.

“Well?” He asked, expectantly.

But you had once again your head above a thick cloud of anxiety. You knew that after the event with Momo in the girls’ locker room - where you had injured her against your will because she had been violating your personal space - your homeroom teacher kept a cautious eye on you in case you’d re-enact that incident. And it wasn’t just that incident that made him look at you like you were a criminal on the loose, either. Your classmates found and did a lot of ways to place you in Aizawa’s naughty list just so you wouldn’t snitch on their abusive (they’d call it affectionate) behavior on you.

That didn’t erase the fact that you were nevertheless his student; he cared for you no less than he cared for his other pupils, yet you were just too ignorant in figuring that out. All that mattered to you was that you’d voice out your current concern to him, but with your insecurities holding you down it seemed it would be more difficult than you had primarily foreseen it to be.

“I-I,” you stammered out, fiddling with something inside your pocket, “u-um, you see, t-there’s this, I mean, I can’t-”

He grew increasingly frustrated with your constant stuttering, and although he did understand your shy nature which largely affected your conversational habits, he only had so much patience to deal with it.

“I don’t have all day.” He stated, glowering at your form in mild irritation. “If you’re going to keep doing that, talk to the wall.”

You abruptly halted in speaking after that, only looking down on your lap, staring wide-eyed, grief-stricken at the revelation that perhaps he really did not want to heed any of your words because you were just that bad of a student that he had decided you were not worth much the effort to concern himself with. And maybe he was right - that your words didn’t matter because you didn’t matter; that there were more affairs he better be tending to than yours; that you were only making a big deal out of this when it truthfully wasn’t.

Oh god, you felt like vomiting. Self-deprecation was getting the better of you.

He stood up and sauntered to the exit, not bothering to spare you a glance. “Come back to me when you actually know what you want to say.”

It was a matter of seconds when you ran to him, pulling him back rather harshly by the grip you had on his sleeve. He turned around due to the force to see your head still hung low, avoiding his gaze as always - only, your shoulders were quivering sporadically, and occasional sniffs were heard from your person.

“P-please, sensei...” you voiced out, shaken and horrifyingly delicate. “I-I’m so scared. Please.”

While he looked at you with contracted irises, countenance now alert from your unexpected disposition, you pulled your trembling hand out of your skirt pocket, nervously disclosing to him from your palm a small, black device with a tiny yet prominent lens.

“M-my room,” you heaved, “I-I saw this i-in my room, m-my closet, while- while I was dressing up, and I don’t know how long it had been in there but it probably already caught me bare and-”

You broke down in a flurry misery and shame, allowing yourself to fall to the ground but you didn’t - Aizawa seized you in his arms, his gentle, fatherly arms that could only do so much to console you from the horror of your reality. And he held your head as you cried on his chest, one little thing he could do after ignoring your situation and letting you think that your significance was less than the rest of his other students. At that moment, you were just so little, so fragile, so naïve he’d keep you in his pocket if he could. Why would someone do something as debauched as illegally recording your innocent self?

“I’m sor-sorry,” you sobbed, “I’m really telling the truth, p-please-”

“Shh, it’s okay. I don’t doubt you.” He reassured. Why were you apologizing? Were you that insecure of being a nuisance? No, no, you never were. Not to him. He reached for your hand to take the cursed device. “Since when did you find out?”

“J-just this morning.” You responded.

“Alright. Do you want to rest? This must have taken a huge toll on you.”

But you still had classes ongoing. Then again, you didn’t feel like looking at the faces of the prime suspects who possibly did you dirty, even when you knew that you’d have to eventually interact with them to get notes of your missed lessons. You were so tired from summoning the lot of your courage to confront your teacher regarding your problem, so you probably wouldn’t have the energy to listen to class discussion. Aizawa finalized your decision by pulling you up and guiding you towards the office of Recovery Girl who, after being briefed of your predicament by your homeroom teacher, welcomed you with a warm smile, telling you to make yourself comfortable in one of the beds in the infirmary.

He then made his way to 1A classroom, a newfound swelling of rage and disappointment in his chest, both forwarded to his class and to himself because only now did he realize that perhaps you were often so restless and apprehensive in the presence of your classmates because they did things that made you bury yourself in the deepest parts of your shell as a last attempt to revel in a sense of safety. Your timidity was not entirely derived from your own nature; it was also due to the maltreatment you were receiving from your classmates. Halting his steps by the classroom door, he looked through the glass window, seeing the class focusing on Midnight’s lecture.

Well, not quite. He could tell that your classmates were visibly affected by the lack of your presence, glancing at your desk from time to time as quiz papers were being passed behind - so they were in the middle of a test, he guessed. But that wasn’t his concern.

In impudent manner, he walked in amid Midnight’s talking, disregarding her face’s sudden morphing into vexation as the students gave him a look of confusion.

“Eraser, what are you-” she was rudely interrupted as Aizawa took the test reference papers from her hands. Something about Modern Hero Art History, he read. He faced his class with disdain, stating,

“Until someone confesses their crime of hiding a spy camera on (l/n)’s dorm room, all of you are receiving failing marks on this test.”

Quite suddenly, the class burst into violent upheaval, gasping, perking, some allowing the dreadful news of your situation to sink in, others letting out noises of complaint before actually taking consideration to the main point of Aizawa’s statement. Midnight stared at him in disbelief, but did nothing to stop his measures.

Momo abruptly stood. “I-is (y/n) okay? We should go check on her!”

“No, you shouldn’t.” Aizawa said. “All of you are suspects. You’ve no right to see her.”

“She probably just made that up get back on us for whatever fucking reason!” Yelled Bakugou.

“Yeah?” The male pro-hero disingenuously mused. He then picked up the spy camera and held it for everyone to see, before setting it down the teacher’s podium. “This was found on her closet. Would she risk recording herself naked just to prove that point?”

Noise died down thereafter, setting their sights solemnly at the device, the class collectively having the same thought in regards to the spy camera.

(Why hadn’t they thought of that? It could have been easier to check on you that way, since you almost always confined yourself in the privacy of your own room.)

“So? No one wants to speak up?” Aizawa asked, though expected the silence.

“Aizawa, have them approach you after classes. It’s embarrassing this way.” Midnight intervened.

“Well that’s the point. Get them exposed to the entire class, so everyone could realize how much of a perverted bastard one of these to-be heroes are. Good values, my ass.” He replied, not bothering to filter rather colorful vocabulary. “Where’s your dignity?”

He let a minute or two pass for the perpetrator to reveal themselves, but soon it became apparent that whomever they were refused to admit to their crime, willing to sacrifice the grades of the class for the sake of anonymity. That would be deemed useless, anyway, because Aizawa was already set on figuring out whom they were, no matter the extent he’d go to in order for that to happen. He’d expel them at once.

But he didn’t have the power to expel someone outside of his class.

“I guess that’s it for your test.” He sighed, disgruntled, picking up the small camera and sauntering his way out of the classroom after giving Midnight a look that he was dead serious with marking all of them a failing score. She stared at him in uncertainty, nonetheless abided by his decisions, albeit hesitantly.

Upon ascertaining his absence, Midnight turned to Class 1A, amusement and humor dancing on her seductive countenance.

“Naïve, hormonal teenagers,” she mused, “the closet, really? Couldn’t you have chosen somewhere less conspicuous?”

None of them bothered to tell her that they were truthfully unaware of the incident.

===

Hagakure Toru, stealth hero, entered your room silently in the nude, the only proof of her movements being a tinier, different spy camera she’d brought along with her. No, not the closet, you might find it again. It looked so painfully obvious on the desk, too, and neither in the bathroom due to its pale white interior. 

But on the pencil holder situated atop your nightstand would do. You barely moved it, anyway, only having its purpose served as a decoration; something to fill the vacancy of the bedside table. After a few adjustments in camouflaging the device with the environment and making sure the lens displayed the area of your space, Hagakure checked its concealment one more time, before mechanically heading outside and back to her own dorm. 

Her body collided almost violently with her room’s door, snapping her out of her trance. 

“H-huh!? Weird... how’d I end up in my room?” She asked, receiving no answer from particularly anyone.

But Shinso Hitoshi could provide her one, if only he weren’t outside, staring at your terrace from five stories down your room, a gratifying smirk donned on his features. Now, the only thing he had to do was dismantle and relocate the gadgets wirelessly connected with the camera Aizawa had confiscated.

#bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x you #bnha #boku no hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia #deku x you #midoriya izuku x reader #deku x reader #yandere x reader #yandere class 1a #class 1a x reader #reader insert #x reader #yandere bnha #uraraka x reader #momo x reader #uraraka ochako x reader #momo yaoyorozu x reader #yandere #yanderechuu

[poguestvff]

CALL ME BACK P. 2 — JJ MAYBANK

in which, JJ and Y/n finally reconcile whilst sat on the bathroom floor

taglist | masterlist | 1.8k words

warning(s): very small descriptions of wounds, angst if you squint, fluff, for the most part, and nothing else i dont think. she/her pronouns part one !!!

The ringing of the phone beside her hadn't made y/n budge instantly. She wasn't expecting a call, her parents knew where she was and who she was with, her friends knew where she was and who she was with. she didn't exactly think there was a reason for a phone call so she let it ring. When a soft ding followed it, the boy beside her let out a sigh.

She raised from the bed, sitting up as she stretched her arms above her head. Y/n picked up her phone from the small table as she noticed the photo she had tried posting finally went through, the tagging of Topper's account making his phone go off as well. She swiped down to the notification center, finding a voicemail from JJ. Her heart seemed to sink within her chest momentarily. She hadn't seen that name in a couple of days, hadn't come in contact with him in a couple of weeks.

It wasn't something she wanted, it was something she needed. Something they needed; Space from one another. She should've seen it coming, hurdling at her at a rapid pace since the time they'd began dating, but she ignored just about every sign until it was right in front of her. She never blamed him, she never would blame him. Y/n understood he had a troubled time showing affection, he was her best friend after all, she knew him in and out, there was no reason to not hold a candle to his name.

Seeing his name made a mountain of things run through her head. Questions upon questions on whether she should listen but a gut feeling made her decision final as she lifted the device to her ear. "Uh, hey. Hey, Y/n/n." She could hear the shakiness, the sound of hesitance that wavered within his voice. "I don't know why I called... Yes, I do. I just really need someone right now and—and everyone's gone. I didn't know who to call except you. Just... just if you get a minute call me back." Then the line went silent.

She looked over to Topper, the boy sleeping sound beside her on his stomach previously though now he lay, staring right back at her. "Was that maybank?" He asked in a groggy tone, a yawn following as he rubbed at his eyes. She hummed, pushing her legs over the side of the bed. "Why did he call?"

"I uh... he didn't say." she said in a low, confused tone, holding the phone in her lap. She couldve called him back, she probably should've. But she didn't know how she'd react if she heard his voice and have to listened to his pained tone again. She typed out several different messages, all in preparation to send but she couldn't decide on which one immediately.

"It's too early, just go back to sleep." Topper said, pulling lightly at the back of her shirt. She looked over her shoulder to him, seeing a tired smile on his face that she didn't reciprocate. "What?"

"I really have to go, Top." She told him as he let out a sigh, turning over on to his back to stare at the ceiling. "He needs me—"

"Just like how Pope needed you to come to dinner the other day or like how Kiara needed your help to chose an outfit."

She clicked her teeth, shaking her head as she stood, setting the phone on the bed. "Don't be an ass." She muttered, grabbing her hoodie from the floor as she threw it over her head. "This is different."

"Tell me how it's different."

"It's JJ! That's how it's different." She exclaimed, hands tossing up before settling at her hips. "If he needs someone and I'm the person he calls, it's not for a dinner date and it's not fashion advice. it's because he genuinely needs someone."

She wasn't quite sure why Topper was so upset over this. they weren't dating, they were just close friends. Friends who spent the night together, watching comedy movies until they cried of laughter. Nothing more, she didn't doubt that for a second. Especially when she knew even when she did these things with JJ, there was always the happy, bubbly feeling within her that didn't feel the same with Topper.

And so the boy rolled his head over to her, fingers thumping against his chest. She couldn't tell what was going on in his head. He hadn't looked angry and there wasn't a frown on his face. It almost looked like he was expecting this, expecting her to defend JJ, tooth and nail. "Then go, y/n."

He looked like he had more to say, like he was biting his tongue, but if he had, he kept those thoughts to himself. "I will." She said, grabbing her phone and her keys, placing them in her back pocket to leave the thornton house.

She sat in the drivers side, pulling her phone from her pocket as the second she'd opened it, JJ's contact was still there. She still hadn't decided on what to send and so she finalized her messaging that she was on the way, sending that she was on her way and a heart. Which, ironically, was the same heart, once again, that they had sent weeks ago before for the last time in their last and final text conversation.

Driving the direct route that she'd known to the chateau had made her stomach feel unnerved. She’d recognized every turn, every stop sign, and the dirt road leading up to the plot. Finding that the front door was not properly closed, clearly slammed as she remembered that the screen was missing a screw causing it to need to be closed slow. The creaky door made someone in the house move as Y/n entered. "JJ?" She asked, making her way further into the home. "Jay, it's just me."

Another noise came from the bathroom as she moved around the corner, seeing JJ sat on the floor. The back of his head was against the wall and his eyes were closed though soft tear streaks shined across his cheeks from the way the light hit them. He opened his eyes finally, only side eyeing Y/n as she stood at the doorway. "i'm sorry."

"Don’t even think about apologizing." She said, pushing his feet back lightly to open the bottom cabinet, finding the medicinal items she needed. She sat in front of him, her knees digging into the hard wood floor below them. She could feel his eyes on her every move while she poured the alcohol onto a small hand towel. "This is gonna sting."

"I know." He replied, a sad smile coming on her face as she began to clean up the small cuts on his cheeks and the split lip. Her opposite hand held his chin lightly, dragging the towel lightly over his skin. She avoided all eye contact, he knew that for a fact as his eyes darted around her face.

She sat back on her ankles as she pointed at his shirt. He nodded, arms raising though wincing in the process as she rushed to his aid, helping him pull the dirty tee from over his head. The bruises that had become more prominent in the time of him waiting on the floor had caused for a heavy feeling to settle in her chest but she didn't say a thing, continuing to work in silence to help ease his pain just enough, leaving at one point to grab a cold beer from the fridge to place against his abdomen since there wasn't a single thing in the freezer other than the quarter filled ice tray.

"So...you and Topper." He said as she tilted his head to the side to clean the blood from the side of his jaw. She gave him a rather chagrined glare. "Sorry, just looking out."

"You don't have to look out anymore." She mumbled as he frowned. "And no... Topper and i— never." she cut herself off.

He went silent for a second, feeling the way her short nails scratched at the side of his cheek lightly. "You’re wrong." he said, suddenly, in Y/n's opinion as she gave him a confused look. "i always have to look out for you. like... like how you're doing right now."

"That’s different." She said for the second time that day.

"You wanna tell me how?"

She sighed, placing her hands in her lap as she sat back. "It just is, JJ. I’m sitting here cleaning your stupid... wounds like old times. This is nothing new."

"And because you and topper's friendship is new, it's different?" he asked. She placed her hands over her face, letting out a low groan against them. "It it's different because we're exes? Because you and Topper dating shouldn't be any of my concern now? News flash, you and Topper even remotely being friends was one of my concerns when we were friends."

She moved her hands from her face, staring at him. "No. what? No, what are you talking about? I didn't even come here to argue about topper, I don't get why it's even a topic right now." she said, her voice faltering near the end before she began leaning forward again to place a bandaid over his cheek.

"Because you know..." he trailed as she didn't even bother stopping. "You’re not... his."

"So what? I’m yours, is that what you're insinuating?" she asked, collecting the trash into her hand.

He didn't answer immediately, fiddling with his fingers in his lap instead. "Yeah." He mumbled. it was clear to him that she had not expected that answer. She stopped, pulling back again, so they could look directly at one another. "I didnt just call you because I could, I called you cause I needed you. I couldve called anyone but I called you because you know me best and i know you best. I know you well enough that you'd drop whatever you were doing for me. That's selfish, yes, but I needed you. Not want, need. A want would be that i want you back."

He was right because that's exactly what she did. And she knew him well enough to see the way he suck his shoulders just slightly in fear of what she'd say next. What she did next. Y/n's hands moved to rest on both of his cheeks, leaning forward to press a light kiss to his forehead before hugging him to her chest. "It didn't work out the first time." She told him in a lower tone.

"That was a trial run, i know what not to do." It was a joke, she knew. He had terrible timing. She heard the emphasis on the ‘I’, implying that he was the only one who made mistakes with the relationship. She let out a very minimal laugh at this, shaking her head at his antics.

She pulled back, running her thumb over the bandaid on his cheek. "We know what not to do." She correct him, placing a gentle kiss to his lips that he returned.

And within that moment, They both knew they were neither a want or need for one another. They were both.

#outer banks x reader #outer banks #jj maybank #obx #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank angst

[smellsfaintlyofvanilla]

hiii!!! can i request a hange x reader fic where they are having a being intimate or having a moment and Levi walks in. and is like wtf. but praises hange on their choice of women? ( could you use a mix of they and she for hange please!)

Absolutely!

I just know Levi would be the type to act disgusted, but internally he's actually really happy for Hange that they finally found somebody :')

Quickly

(Zoe Hange x Reader)

AU: Canon

Warnings: None

Category: Fluff, a little smut but they get caught lmao

Summary: Hange is busy doing work when their S/O comes to visit them, so they let them stay for a bit. But, as soon as they get to fooling around, Hange realizes they forgot to lock the door.

Words: 1.9K

"Knock knock."

You push the door to Hange's office open casually, not even waiting for any sort of confirmation from them that you were allowed in—after all, Hange never said 'no' to any of your visits. It was essentially your office too now, since she had given you a spare key to "come over whenever you'd like and for whatever reason you'd like". You understood the implications of what she was saying, but pushed the thought to the back of your mind, accepting the key graciously.

"Ah, hello Y/n." Their voice echoed through the room, their back turned as she fiddled with some equipment and papers on her desk, working vigorously as usual. You shut the door behind you, stretching your arms above your head as you strolled over to your lover.

Your arms wrapped around her waist from behind the second you got close enough, burying your head in their neck—a cheeky way of getting their attention that never once failed.

"Baby, I'm working." She chuckled in mock protest, but based off of how quickly they dropped their tools and looked up from their papers, you doubted she was planning on stopping you.

"I know," You breathe against her neck, slowly and meticulously luring them further and further from her work. "But I missed you~."

"What do you want?" Hange suddenly asked. It wasn't in annoyance, but a genuine question. "Do you want something in particular?"

You sat there silently against her shoulder for a moment, pondering. What did you come here for? Mostly, you were just bored and lonely—stable duty wasn't the most appealing job—but you didn't have anything planned when you came over.

"I dunno..." You mumble. "Just wanted to see you..."

Hange chuckled, freeing herself from your grasp and turning to face you. "That's fine." They say, hooking their arms around your lower back to pull you up, and you wrap your legs around her waist as she starts walking.

After a few seconds, she'd sat down, and you heard the distinct scratching of the chair against the floor as she scooted forward. You were in their lap now, body pressed up against hers so closely that you could feel the rise and fall of their chest with each steady breath. They'd already scooted the chair up as close to their work desk as they could, and even your lower back was pressed semi-uncomfortably against her wooden desk, you didn't mind at all. Your legs were to either side of her, and you faced the back wall blankly.

"We can stay like this for a while." She muttered, her left hand slowly rubbing up and down your back while her right picked up the pen and started to fill out the stack of paperwork on her desk. You chuckled—Hange's inability to pry themselves from their work was evident as always.

You settled down, your breaths leveling to slow, easy pace as you buried your head in the crook of her neck, finding deep solace and tranquility in her embrace. Your eyes shut against her, and you slowly breathed in their scent. It was very distinct—somewhat musky, yet also smelling of ink and fresh paper. The tension evaporated from your muscles as you sunk further into them, the warmth of their body and the gentle rhythm of their heartbeat lulling you to sleep in her arms.

After a certain amount of time—you weren't quite sure how long—something stirred you awake, and a groan involuntarily left your lips as your eyes peeled open.

You were still in the chair, and in Hange's embrace, but the sound of pen on paper had ceased, and you could only assume that they had finished their a while back.

Her face was now pressed into your shoulder, and both of her hands had snaked under your shirt and onto the bare skin of your back. If you didn't know better, you'd assume she was asleep, but you heard a soft chuckle pass your lover's lips, the exhalation brushing warm air against the nape of your neck.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. Are my hands too cold?" She spoke gently and quietly, a stark contrast to her usually loud tone. She didn't want to bother you with her usual loudness immediately after you had woken up.

"Now that you mention it, a little." You mumble, closing your eyes in a vain attempt at getting more rest.

"Sorry. Here, I'll move them." They make good on their words, removing their hands from yours and moving them up to your head, pulling it up from her shoulder. She cups your face in her hands, one side in each palm, and pulls you towards her face for a chaste kiss on the lips.

Finally starting to wake up, you move your lips back to hers after a moments hesitation. They return the kiss eagerly, hands moving to your shoulders, squeezing them lightly. Their lips are warm and soft against yours. Perhaps a little chapped, but you had long gotten used to the feeling.

Teasingly, Hange moves her hands down, letting them slink to your waist, purposefully dragging of the sides of your breasts on the way down. Their tongue left their mouth, dragging up your bottom lip teasingly.

You pull away in shock, wiping the small trail of saliva connecting the two. "H-Hange—!"

They lean their head back, letting out a hearty laugh. "Sorry, I just wanted to see what you would do!"

Despite playing it off as a joke, her hands never left your hips. In fact, their grip only tightened.

"Unless..." She teased, hands slowly riding up, causing your shirt to rise and expose your stomach. "You want to keep going?"

A pink tint rises to your cheeks as your shirt continued to rise up your stomach, Hange's eyes shamelessly staring down at your exposed skin, thoroughly enjoying the view.

"Hange~," You whined, squirming under their grasp and trying in vain to fight off the tingle in the pit of your stomach. "We're on duty, stop being horny!" You laughed, causing Hange to giggle as well.

"What's the harm in it? I've down my work, and so have you... You locked the door on the way in, you nobody'll catch us anyway. I'll be quick about it~..."

You sighed, debating on whether it's really worth it. After all, captain Levi would surely chew you out for it if he caught you and Hange getting frisky. But the door was locked, so you decided it would be alright. Just this once.

"Fine..." You sigh, "Just be quick about it."

Hange's eyes lit up with excitement at your permission, immediately pulling your shirt up, not taking it off completely, but pulling it up enough to expose your breasts, still hidden by your bra.

Hange's lips went to your chest almost instantly, peppering the area with brief kisses. Her hand slunk lower, cupping your crotch in her hand, causing you to hiss in a breath of air.

Her lips detach from your chest with a pop, smirking at you before moving up to gaze at your face—flushed and slight sweating from arousal.

She swooped in to kiss you, lips connecting with yours and moving against each other passionately. Slowly, but deliberately, her hand moved up and down, grinding against your clit through your clothing, making you squirm with impatience.

You whimpered quietly, the sound being muffled by Hange's mouth against yours. The two of you separated for a very brief moment, breathing heavily as saliva connected your lips, before you dove right back in, kissing more fervently than before.

Finally, you two pulled away, catching your breaths amongst the grips of passion. Panting, you put your forehead to theirs, smiling against her.

"I love you Hange." You exhaled, your warm breath teasing Hange's wet and parted lips.

"I love you too." She panted, emphasizing her point by grinding her hand against you a bit more forcefully this time, the pleasure causing you to moan quietly, spurring Hange on. "So hurry up and take your pants off."

You obey immediately, almost as if your body was moving on its own, unzipping your pants, preparing to slide out of them until a subtle noise behind you caught your attention. You turned your head in confusion, and your eyes widened at the sight of captain Levi, clearly unamused, in the doorway.

"L-Levi... Hi!" You sputter, fumbling desperately with the zipper of your pants in a desperate attempt to play off the situation. But it was too late, the damage had already been done.

Levi stared for a moment, his usual dead, unamused face ever so prominent. Finally, after a silence that felt like eternity, he sighed, stepping towards the desk.

He plopped down a stack on papers on Hange's desk, causing a few loose papers to blow from her desktop and onto the floor.

"You're on duty, Hange. You too, Y/n." He deadpans. "Now is not the time nor the place to be doing... this."

You look to the side out of embarrassment, pulling your shirt back down as you refused to meet his eye.

"Hange, Erwin needs these filled out by next week. Stop fooling around with Y/n and get it done."

"I-I apologize Levi, I'll get it done as soon as possible." Hange cleared her throat, trying her best not to sound affected, but her wavering voice betrayed her, clearly slightly embarrassed.

He scoffed as he turned his back, walking out as if this were a normal occurrence. "Yeah, yeah. I don't really care anyway, just make sure this gets done. And don't make a mess, either." He says, eyeing the clear disarray of the room.

He turns to leave, but stops in the frame of the door, turning to give Hange a side-eyed glance. "But, you know, for everyone in the Survey Corps, you chose a pretty good woman." He states, shutting the door immediately after his statement, preferring not to witness the calamity.

Hange breaks out into a fit of giggles while your entire face heats up into a red blush of embarrassment.

"Of all that," Hange sputters in between giggles. "Of all that, he chooses to focus on 'my choice of women'?!"

Meanwhile, you bury your face in your hands, wishing you could just sink into the floor and never be seen again. "I thought I locked the door..."

"I guess not, darling." They tease, planting a purposefully short kiss to the edge of your jawline. This time, you're more firm in your stance, taking a hand and putting it on her forehead, gently pushing them away from your neck.

"Nuh-uh! Not this time, Levi said you have work to do." You manage to regain your confidence enough to push Hange away.

"Ughhhh, fine." They groan dramatically, gently pushing you off their lap as they scoot their chair to their desk.

"You act as if it's your life support. You can go an hour without sex, Hange."

"Impossible." Hange retorts back immediately, a joking tone to her voice.

"Right," You sigh, stretching your arms above your head, "Anyway, I'm gonna take a nap on the couch." You plop down on the cushiony fabric, making yourself comfortable before pulling a blanket up to your shoulders.

"Okay," Hange's voice echoes from across the room. "Just don't be upset if I wake you up later."

You scoff quietly at the remark, rolling onto your side and closing your tired eyes. "You dork. I'm going to sleep. Love you."

"Love you, too." They reply immediately, ignoring the papers on her desk, staring at you instead.

You'd already fallen asleep—your exhaustion from the day catching up to you—and Hange took the moment to admire your beauty as you slept peacefully.

"I'll be waiting right here when you wake up, okay?"

This also isn't proofread, I have an appointment early tomorrow morning and I don't wanna fall asleep halfway through :'D

Hope you enjoyed anyway!

#attack on titan #aot #snk #shingeki no kyojin #aot x reader #snk x reader #hange zoe #zoe hange #hanji zoe #zoe hanji #zoe hange x reader #zoe hanji x reader #hange zoe x reader #hanji zoe x reader #hange x reader #hanji x reader

[baya-ni]

Renga Shouldn’t Be Canon (clickbait)

No but seriously, I hope that Renga doesn’t become canon, at least not in the way that I think a lot of people are hoping that it will. Personally, I’m not expecting anything close to a kiss and confession and that’s fine by me.

Queerbaiting is a problem in mainstream media, there’s no doubt about it, and many people both within and outside the queer community are right to feel wary about hoping for that kind of representation. Personally, I’m still caught by surprise every time a queer person or couple is depicted in a normalized and healthy way onscreen. And that just speaks to the appallingly poor representation queer people are so used to seeing.

But I think that fandom likes to throw the word “queerbaiting” around a bit haphazardly, much in the same way faux woke people throw around words like “gaslighting” and “cancel culture”. They’ve become buzz words to evoke immediate feelings of self-righteousness and to prey on person’s fear of appearing ignorant or bigoted.

Unfortunately, I worry that when the season inevitably ends without Renga’s “canonization”, people will unfairly label Sk8 as Queerbait. And I have many Feelings about this- mostly frustration.

But we’re only mid-season. I can only guess where the show is going to go and only make assumptions about fandom behavior based on personal experience, and there’s a high possibility I’ll be proven totally wrong so... take whatever I say with a grain of salt. But anyway, let’s get on with it.

Fundamentally, Sk8 isn’t shoujo, it’s not BL- it’s a sports anime. And while that doesn’t preclude a total absence of romance between its characters, ultimately those aren’t the kinds of relationships that sports anime concerns itself with. The most prominent relationships you’ll see will be more along the lines of Teammates and Rivals (there's also a third dynamic I'm calling Opponents which is Not the same as Rivals but the Opponents dynamic is less relevant to my point so I'll focus on just the first two).

However, it's not hard to see why romantic interpretations are so common among fans of sports anime. At their core, the basis of Teammate and Rival dynamics bear many similarities to that of a compelling romance. Both Teammate and Rival relationships are built upon two characters' mutual admiration and respect for one another, they involve characters learning from one another and being inspired to push themselves to be their best. There's a great deal of trust involved, as is vulnerability, communication, and empathy. In other words, all the essentials of any healthy relationship.

But context and genre are important. I think that a good romance is one that is unique to its characters specific personalities and needs, as well as is believable within the context of the setting and story. For an anime like Sk8, I would find an on-screen kiss strange and out of place (unless it was done for comedic effect which would be... bad).

I'm reminded of this quote from Portrait of a Lady on Fire, which is one of my all time favorite films:

"Do all lovers feel as though they are inventing something? I know the gestures. I imagined them all waiting for you."

And that basically sums up what I've described, albeit more poetically. Love is invention. Romantic gestures form a unique language between lovers. And if I may add, genre and narrative establish the basis for the emotional significance of these gestures.

In a genre like action/thriller, one of the most meaningful things a character can do is risk their safety or straight up sacrifice themselves for another, because bodily harm and physical risks drive the tension in these kinds of narratives. In the romance genre, confessions, physical intimacy, and grand romantic displays serve the same purpose. In something like sports anime, I argue that its gestures like physically accommodating for your teammate, supporting them when they feel dejected, and being motivated to train harder and be better for the sake of being allowed to stand beside them, that hold equivalent significance.

But this is all broadly speaking, and genre is just one element. Characters’ personalities, habits, insecurities, and trauma, as well as a story’s themes, further specify the kinds of gestures that hold the most meaning in a narrative.

Let’s look again at Portrait of a Lady on Fire, on my favorite scenes:

Portrait is interested in subverting the power imbalance inherent between the Artist and the Muse, the Voyeur and the Subject, the Looker and she who is Looked At. Heloise’s observations of Marianne hold great significance because of this theme; she disrupts the power imbalance by taking back agency as the Subject, demonstrating that she is just as capable of Looking at the Artist just as the Artist does at her. This is visually represented by the framing of the final shot. With the camera pulled back, we now see Marianne as Heloise has been seeing her, and she is now subject to being visually scrutinized in the same way that Heloise has been up to this point in the film.

This scene is so poignant because the romantic gesture it depicts ties heavily to the story’s themes, its characters’ personalities, and its existence is believable within its genre.

Now, let’s bring this all back to Sk8. In this show, what sort of gestures are given the most significance?

Skateboarding. Duh.

Basically, this line establishes that “basis for emotional significance” that I mentioned earlier, such that skating is the means by which characters and relationships are developed and the plot is driven forward, that any and everything related to skating potentially holds symbolic meaning.

And specifically, equating the act of skating to love then allows for more romantic interpretations of all kinds of scenes. Take for example, these parallel sets of shots from ep 1:

(I mean cmon look at his tiny blush, it’s fucking adorable) And:

In a show that equates skating to a “ritual of love”, these scenes can be realistically be interpreted as Langa and Reki falling in love with one another. Skating acts as both the catalyst for their relationship as well as later on being the means by which they express their feelings and develop their relationship.

Skating is their love language.

Ok, I’ll try to wrap this up since this post has gotten wayyy too long. But basically my point is that Renga is about as canon as this show could possibly make it within the confines of its genre and narrative. Romance in sports anime is different from romance in shoujo, but it’s romance all the same, in the same way that different people express love in different ways.

A kiss and confession is not the only means by which a ship can become canon. And I personally would much rather have this kind of carefully crafted symbolism than a kiss just randomly shoehorned in.

But I understand that in the face of centuries of censorship, cop-outs, and barely believable and forced heteronormativity, people want same-sex intimacy onscreen, unapologetic and normalized. I get that.

But in my opinion, Sk8 isn’t queerbait, and it shouldn’t be accused as such just because its characters won’t kiss onscreen. I think this show depicts a wonderful and loving relationship between two boys, that isn’t any less loving just because it doesn’t fit into conventional romantic tropes.

Edit: I did a followup post about Sk8 and its queer representation here, where I go more in depth into the ways that Sk8 represents queerness through beyond its implied homo-romantic relationships.

So yeah, I’d love to hear yalls thoughts :)

#this is gonna get me cancelled #i kno it to be true #but Some Bitches like to reduce romance to kissing and sex #which is the smoothest fucking brain take i have EVER heard #gay ppl invented romance #Good Romance #i don't make the rules #sk8 #sk8 the infinity #sk8 meta #renga kyan #langa hasegawa #renga

[wesimpforxiao]

Say My Name and I’ll Be There:  6.3

Author’s Note:  Hello!  If you haven’t seen my post last night about choosing between two videos, I encourage you to check it out and give me your input! I need as much of it as possible.  Thanks!! Here’s the next chapter<3

...........................

Your eyes slowly opened to view the new cell Dottore had assigned you.  You thought the original cell had been bad, so when your vision finally focused, you realized in great annoyance that this cage was meant for a literal animal.  Bars replaced the entry wall and doorway, leaving you no privacy in this underground arena.  Even the toilet lacked some sort of curtain to hide you from prying eyes, though you sincerely doubted anyone would bother to cause that kind of trouble with you.

You forced yourself to sit up despite the horrendous pain that shook the very bones within you.  Yesterday was blurry, but the image of a not-so-kind Signora granting you rest remained prominent.  That awful interrogation was no doubt going to continue today, but at least you got the rest you desperately needed.  Your mind was clearer now, less weak and broken than last night.  If Signora never gave Dottore the order, what would have happened?  Would you have only passed out, or would you have actually died in the process?  Were you one to give in on the brink of death and spill what you already know, risking Xiao's life?

A sore throat plagued you, and the cold of the country seemed to seep into the building--even as low as down here.  Your puffy eyes slid to the bars that prevented your escape...Why weren't there any guards today?  A blink wiped away some of the blurriness and you slowly crawled over to the cell door.  A faint but unmistakable ruckus leaked through the prison's exit, and your posture straightened.  It was only when the door at the end of the hall burst off its hinges that you considered the possibility of an attack.

The door wasn't the only thing that clattered to the ground.  "X-Xiao?"  Your voice came out more broken than intended, and your drowsiness was swept under the rug.  Am I seeing things?  "Xiao!"

"Ha-ha!  Didn't think he'd wake up so early," a Fatui agent entered the corridor and lifted the unconscious adeptus by the nape of his neck.  "Must've been some sort of reflex, he's out cold again.  Pathetic.  This is the might of the adepti?"

Your blood ran colder when a third figure entered.  His eyes met yours as he retied Xiao's hands behind his back, half-pushing him forward to walk.  A devious smile slipped across his lips as he escorted Xiao past your cell.

"I thought you'd appreciate it if I was the one to bring him in," Childe teased as he walked past you.

"Xiao!"  You couldn't raise your voice as much as you wanted to, but the yaksha's eyes opened.  "Xiao! What happened?!"

"...a-ambushed..."  His body was too weak to lift his head.

"What the hell did you do to him?"  The shriek was like music to Childe's ears as he roughly discarded the yaksha into a cell you couldn't see from where you were placed.  "HEY! Don't do that!"

Childe returned to your cell and squatted down so he was level with you.  "I didn't do anything to him, ojou-chan.  He was like this when we found him."

"'Found?'"  The cell walls seemed to constrict you, force you into maintaining eye contact.  "What did you do?  What happened to everyone?  Where's Aether, Zhongli?"

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it, girlie," he booped your forehead and stood up.  "Just remember the sight I just gave to you; you wasted your love on someone that wasn't strong enough to protect you."  He passed the Fatui agent and made a face at the broken door that lay on the ground.  "Fix this."

"Yes, Master Childe."

............................................

"Ugh..."  A faint groan made its way to your ears.

"Xiao?"  You dragged your body to the corner of the cell so you could hear him better.  "Are you okay?"  The bars your hands were around seemed less cold and cruel now that a familiar presence was awake.

"This is nothing."  It was an obvious lie, but you didn't press further until he yelped in pain a few seconds later.

"Xiao!"

"Sigils," he coughed.  "I can't touch the walls."

"Sigils? What kind of sigils?"

"The kind that trap and seal adepti, obviously."  He shuffled around the best he could so that he was situated in the exact middle of his cell.  

"But I thought they didn't know where to find you..."  Your eyebrows furrowed as you thought aloud.  They couldn't have found him so quickly, and by the sound of it, they weren't planning on looking for him anytime soon either.  It didn't add up.

"Relax.  These aren't nearly enough to restrain me.  I can--"

A little metal object flew across the ceiling until it landed on the newly-fixed doorframe.  It was some sort of metal bird with eyes that glowed an ominous red.  The beak tapped the doorframe twice, and signaled for it to open.

"I see my subjects are up and about," Dottore stuck his arm out so his little bird could perch on his sleeve.  His leisure footsteps carried him to the halfway point between your and Xiao's cells so he could look at the two of you.  When his eyes landed on Xiao, a manic grin spread across his lips.  "Already planning on breaking out?  Go ahead and give it a try.  The amount of power you'd need to exert would kill her."

"Huh?"  Just what exactly was Xiao doing right now?  "Don't listen to him, he's trying to force submission."

"Am I?  I just saved your life right now, girlie," Dottore's eyes shifted to yours, then returned to Xiao.  The metal bird hopped onto the doctor's shoulder so he could rest his arm at his side.  Another smile plagued his lips.  "Your little savior here only just noticed the most powerful sigil right beside him.  To break it would require most of his strength and this entire underground network would be collateral damage.  There'd be no saving you."

Judging by the silence that emanated from Xiao's cell, he was right.  "Just do it, Xiao."  Your voice didn't hold any emotion, save for a longing for his safe return.  "You don't have to worry about me."

Dottore let out a cackle that momentarily startled his artificial companion.  "Ha!  I wasn't aware adepti could be defeated so easily!"

"What're you talking about?"

"Oh, my dear, you should see the look on his face right now.  Actually, I can make that happen."  He nudged the bird in the direction of the door and it took off.  This time it landed on the doorknob and pecked three times.  After a few moments of silence, the door opened.  "Since Childe has been with you two the longest, I've asked the Tsaritsa for his aid.  From his reports it seems like you three had quite the companionship."

You heard Xiao scoff at the words, then your cell door opened.  "Looks like we'll be stuck together for awhile longer," Childe lifted you off the ground with little effort.  His nose scrunched up when he realized he did it with such ease.  Is she just that broken, or just that skinny now?  He shrugged the question off as he escorted you to Xiao's cell.

"When was it you stumbled upon him yesterday?"  Dottore addressed his subordinate as he opened a small bag that was just handed to him by a Fatui agent.  That agent, along with Childe, forced you to your knees.  Xiao shifted forward, eyes widening slightly as he tried to read the situation.

"Sometime in the late evening, in Fontaine.  They were heading straight for Snezhnaya."  Childe pushed some of your hair out of the way and exposed the nape of your neck.  "Seems like they were on their way to rescue you, ojou-chan.  I only happened to stumble upon them by chance."

The way he said that made you think it wasn't at all by chance.  It would explain why these symbols were already painted within Xiao's cell...Your eyes scanned Xiao's surroundings.  Were those seals painted with red paint, or with blood?  Maybe it was better if you didn't know the answer.  At least Xiao didn't appear to be too injured.

"And you overheard them discussing Xiao's unconscious state?"  Childe confirmed with a nod as his grip on you tightened.  "Good.  I have a theory pertaining to his current state.  You see, Childe, I had been interrogating her last night as well.  I think there may be yet another connection we can study--"

Your heart dropped when you peeked up to see that he was filling a syringe with a mysterious orange liquid.  If that was the same liquid from yesterday--  "Please don't."

"Ha! 'Please don't?'  That's the only comeback you have today?"  Dottore let out another cackle and tapped the excess liquid off of the needle.  "Don't worry missy, this is a smaller dosage."

"No!"  The needle penetrated your skin and you immediately felt like your insides were being torched alive.  Childe and the Fatui agent let you squirm in pain on the ground, while Dottore had his attention on Xiao.

Xiao hid his pain well this time around.  He had dealt with it yesterday, after all.  He continued to glare at Dottore, his hands subtly curling into tight fists to deal with the pain.  The harbinger took it as a challenge, and he prepared another needle.  It was then when the yaksha let the pain show on his face, and he tilted his head in discomfort as the pain only worsened.

Dottore's hands froze when he noticed the glowing in his eyes.  "I see.  It looks like we have a breakthrough already, Childe."  He yanked your head up from the ground and forced you to look at him.  "See how quick progress can be made when you obtain all the variables?"

....................................................

"How are you feeling?"  Xiao's voice coaxed you out of the hysterical mindset the pain had put you in.

"H-How did I get in here?"  You were in his cell, head still spinning and stomach still churning.  Your body was slick with a cold sweat.  Your fingers were still twitching uncontrollably as you lay on the ground beside him.

"I suppose you don't remember," Xiao returned his gaze forward.  "They decided it would be better for us to remain in a single cell, that way the odds of you dying in an escape are high."

"Great--" A groan left your lips as you tried to prop yourself on an elbow.

"You shouldn't move."  When you ignored him, he pushed you back down with a gloved hand on your shoulder.  "You're pushing yourself too far.  Lie down and rest."

"I'm fine!" Your protest was accompanied by another attempt to sit up, but this time he pinned you down with both hands.  He hovered over you, but was careful not to be too forceful with your already-aching body.

"Your body cannot handle this much strain.  You don't understand the--"

"No, you don't understand.  I've been put through so much torture these past few days and you haven't seen--"  Your voice caught in your throat when he pulled away.  How insensitive of me; he knows more than plenty of what it's like.  "...I'm sorry for snapping, I..."

"I have felt some of the pain they put you through," his gaze finally returned to yours.  "That's why I'm telling you to rest.  Even I could not withstand that pain.  Zhongli said it was a new side effect, like how you can feel my thoughts.  I can now feel your emotions and physical pains."

"That's why you were found unconscious?"  It took you a moment to process the new developments.  Just what emotions could he feel from you?  Hopefully not your love for him...

"Have you not realized what he was injecting you with?"  Your confused expression made him shake his head.  "It was a synthetic solution made with your own blood."

"My own blood? But they didn't take any samples--"

"They could have when you were unconscious.  Then they must have enhanced it somehow, made it more concentrated.  The burning is attributed to a high amount of adeptal energy.  He's effectively poisoning you."

"Then why did it hurt you?  You're an adeptus."

"If they were to inject it directly into me, I wouldn't be harmed.  But since it was injected into a mortal body that's linked to mine and is not fully adeptus, I would feel what your body feels."

"When did you start feeling my feelings and pain?"  If he was feeling it the entire time you've been in this awful place, you were going to feel even worse for snapping at him.  

"Your emotions began plaguing me a few days ago.  As for your pain, only last night.  I overheard Zhongli explaining his theories while I came in and out of consciousness."  He absentmindedly stared at the hallway.  "Regardless, we're too late.  They already have the means of creating pathetic mortal versions of adepti; all that's left is to study us until they know the full powers and limitations of the bonds, and then..."  We'll more than likely be slaughtered when they're through with us.

"And...what about the others?  Zhongli, Aether?  Did they escape?"

The unfriendly metal bird impatiently hopped along the hall's floor.  Xiao watched it with a neutral expression.  "No.  They didn't."

...............................

Coming up:  The bond only strengthens.  An introduction to a new harbinger.

#genshin impact #genshin impact xiao #xiao x reader #xiao genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin fanfiction #xiao fanfiction

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Martial Arts.”

Had this lined up for today based on two requested ideas given to me by readers. I hope you like it and have a great day!

“I think you’re really going to like this.”

“So I assume it involves beating the ever-loving shit out of someone.” 

Adam grinned, “Exactly.”

Sunny cheered and Krill sighed, “Why do you two always insist on having the most violent pastimes.”

“I promise today is ALSO educational. Now stop being a stick in the mud. I am sure you will find use for yourself today.”

Krill sighed but allowed them to continue on. The Admiral was wearing a duffel bag over one shoulder, and the tennis shoes he was wearing, alone with the shots suggested that he intended to participate in some sort of physical activity. The same shades of blue light flickered over his prosthetic leg and those that licked over hers, and even from here, he could hear the soft whirring of the machine.

Sunny craned her neck at the city around them trying to figure out where they were being taken, and neither of them figured it out until the admiral cut right and shouldered open the door to a large building. 

Stepping inside they were greeted with a waft of warm, humid air. The ground under their feet was squishy, made of some sort of synthetic material, and all around the room humans in various stages of physical activity dominated the landscape.

The predominant sound was that of flesh impacting padded bags as humans -- both bare knuckled -- and wearing padded gloves punched and kicked and violently strove to beat the ever loving shit out of inanimate hanging objects. Krill wanted in surprise and -- what would have been horror if he wasn’t so used to being appalled-- as two humans sparred together in a ring lined with three large ropes.

They were padded, with gloves and face masks and helmets of some sort, but that gave them free reign to punch and kick each other silly, until one of the humans grabbed the other by the arm and flipped backwards throwing them both to the ground with a violent thud.

Across the room, humans wearing strange white uniforms tied with colorful belts moved in synchronization to the call of a master. He'd punch and then kick and then block venting air by way of shouts.

Sunny turned in a tight circle, her eyes wide as they fell on another padded platform, this time in an octagonal shape, and bounded by a chain link energy cage.

Inside two women were roused to blood, fighting with nothing but barely padded gloves and the clothes on their back.

One of the women managed to throw the other to the ground and for a second they were a mass of tangled limbs before she had her arms around the other’s neck squeezing tight. Krill stepped forward but a sharp tap on the arm of one woman to the other caused the winner to let go, and the fighters to return to their feet, one rubbing her soar neck..

“What is this place?” Sunny asked, in absolute awe

Adam grinned, “This, my fine friend is what humans call a dojo. Not exactly sure where the word comes from per say, but I am pretty sure it originated in asia more than two thousand years ago and basically means a location where people train in the art of hand to hand combat. 

Sunny turned her head again eyes wide as another two men grappled each other to the floor hands gripping onto each other’s uniforms tugging and pulling and trying to swipe with their feet.

“It all looks so… different.”

Adam nodded, “That's because it is. There are hundreds of different fighting systems developed by humanity over the years, sort of like how you have different spear stances in your culture fire versus water, accept these ones work on different principals.

He motioned to the square ring, “Boxing for instance focuses a lot of its attention on punches specifically. Historically the rules required that you couldn't use elbows knees or kicks, and your punches had to land above the belt, or at least that’s what I remember. He turned to point at the other side of the room where the men and women in white were still busy in their forms. Stuff like Karate Kung Fu and others are sort of more about forms and techniques. I would say that that sort of fighting is more of a philosophy or a way of life than anything, and very ancient.”

He then turned to look at the two men still wrestling on the floor, “Then there is Jiu Jitsu, a form of combat that relies on submission and grappling. USe the weakness of an enemies body against them, use their weight, use the weakness of their wrists and elbows and knees and neck. Jiu Jitsu is likely to always end up on the ground. It is similar to wrestling, though wrestling requires than you pin the other person’s shoulders to the ground.

Krill turned to look at Sunny’s face and would have rolled his eyes at the giddy expression she had if it weren't for his inability to actually roll his eyes.

“Why are there so many types?’

Adam paused tapping his chin, “Well, humanity has always been working to find a system that works best. In many cases it started with a philosophy of some kind. IN certain cases it was poise, or focus or any number of things. Monks dedicated their entire lives to the mastery and perfection of a single art of combat. In a way it was almost like meditation that could be used in times of need. Some martial arts required steal or quick movement which spawned stuff like Ninjitsu and still live son in spots like parkour despite it not being a combat sport.”

He lend them further into the room, “A lot of them spawned out of the fact that humans just love to fight, we love to see who is physically better. It made it’s way to the olympics, and then into popular culture. Wrestling, while a great athletic endeavor was just as much a theater production as it was anything else and requires an understanding between two parties to put on the most dramatic show possible.”

He walked over a few feet pausing before the octagon, “Then someone had the idea of what would happen if you put the different martial arts up against each other in a contest of who is better hence Mixed Martial Arts fought in an octagon just like this. At first practitioners of one discipline were pitted against each other to see who was better.” He rested his hand against one of the braces, “In the end it ended up weeding out a lot of the older forms of martial arts which were more a form of art than actual fighting. Philosophy wasn’t exactly helpful in the octagon, and many of the flashier forms, while they looked cool in practice turned out to be impractical in the ring.

He dropped his bag to the floor, reaching in to take out a pair of gloves, “The idea became that the more brutal straight to the point contact sports were most superior.”

Sunny crossed her arms, “So what is it, which martial art is more superior?”

Adam grinned, “That’s the catch… all of them are.”

“What do you mean.”

“All of them are assuming you put them together. Fighters that were well versed in multiple styles of fighting were the most victorious.” he fell into a standard human fighting posture feet shoulder width one foot before the other hands up and loose before his face neck down, “If you can punch like a boxer, Kick like a Muay Thai fighter, grapple like a Jiu Jitsu master and put all of it together, you may have more than a chance of winning.” he patted the side of the cage, “The general consensus is that the best kind of fighting is one that doesnt just take focus from one discipline, it is someone who can take the best things from all the disciplines and put them together all at once.”

Sunny looked on rather hungrily at the ring.

“Let’s do it.”

He grinned back, “I thought you might be interested.

Krill just shook his head and backed away, leave it to the drev and the human to find one of the most dangerous pastimes in the world. Who would have thought that philosophy could span a better way to kick the shit out of someone.

Kril Turned his head to look around the room and was surprised at all the thighs he saw. He may not have agreed with the martial arts necessarily, but there was something to be said about the variety, and the sort of human that came out of it. The men and women he could see practicing were, without a doubt some of the fittest humans he had ever laid eyes on, and he spent his time with a crew that wasn’t likely to shirt their physical health.

Men and women alike glistened with lean muscle sharp and prominent against their sweat glazed skin. Hands punched bags over and over and over again. In certain cases he watched as men and women kicked wooden poles repeatedly ramming their shins against the unforgiving surface their faces barely showing any hint of pain,

The feats of acrobatics which they managed, and the way they utilized their center of gravity was astonishing. He saw a five foot woman throw a two hundred pound man over her head simply by throwing herself to her back and kicking the other man over.

While weight and size seemed to matter to some degree there were a few humans here who didn’t seem to care.

Sunny and Adam were on the other side of the room Adam explaining the idea of kinetic linking to sunny, how by moving your body, you could force the power from your feet, all the way up through your legs hips and back and into a single punch making it more powerful.

Krill could see, on a physiological standpoint where that was true.

He even watched for a few sessions as Sunny and Adam went a few rounds Adam winning a surprising amount of times for someone who was so small, but often using the techniques that Krill was seeing around the room.

It was only after they had taken a break and were gearing up to go again that Krill noticed another human walk onto the floor. He was an older human, the pigment having faded from his hair long ago, bleaching him silver. Despite that, the man had the body of someone half his age, lean and sinuous, veins crawling up his arms like the vines of a tree.

Adam was just pulling on his gloves when the man stepped up.

“Excuse me, son.”

Adam lifted his head standing when the man approached, “Can I help you.”

The man set down his bag. Based on his voice, the man was clearly an older gentlemen though Krill had trouble guessing. Either way he had the opinion that this guy probably should take it easier than this palace suggested.

“I hate to ask, but My sparring partner is sick today, and I was wondering if you might consider a round or two. You look spry enough.”

Adam blinked in surprise but then shrugged, “Yeah sure I guess.” The way his ione eye traveled over the man suggested he was having the same thoughts as krill. He seemed like he was a bit too old to be doing something like this. Krill worried that he could potential break or tear something , but no one said a word as the man set down his bag and took a few minutes to stretch.

Krill was a bit more than surprised at the flexibility of the old man who managed a full split in both directions after warming up.

Adam seemed a little less sure of himself upon seeing that.

He definitely could not do that.

The old guy’s face was lined with delicate wrinkles through the skin, the body becoming less taught with age, but when the two of them hopped up into the ring, the older man seemed just as energetic as Adam, which seemed surprising.

No matter though, as old as he was, he would probably tire pretty easily.

“What do you say, no crotch shots and no eye gouging.” Adam announced and the old man agreed as they moved into position.

Krill and Sunny came to the side of the cage to watch as the two men squared off.

Adam kept his hands a bit relaxed, still guarded but not too concerned.

The older man didn’t keeping tight and low as they circled for a bit.

“You’ll want to keep up your guard, son.” The man chided, and adam smiled but pulled his hands in tighter.

Krill tapped his fingers.

Sunny smirked as if she knew something he didn’t

They exchanged a few blows, Adam going eas and the old guy, well being old and slow as Krill had expected. Adam’s guard began to drop again, and then all of a sudden out of absolutely nowhere there was a sharp blur of motion and a loud THWACK. 

Adam hit the ground hard dazed and confused as the old man stood over him.

Sunny ohhhhed in absolute glee.

Krill hissed in pain.

Adam had just been round kicked to the head.

“I told you to keep your guard up.” The old man said, reaching down a hand to help Adam to his feet, “probably also a good idea not to underestimate senior citizens.”

Adam rubbed his head, “Ok, ok I deserved that. Let's go another round.”

“You sure, you got your memory jogged kind of hard there.”

Adam shook himself and squared back up, his guard tight this time, “bring it on grandpa.”

The old man smiled and fell back into his stance. This time Adam was not smoking, and his expression was hard as he stared at the old man. Adam came forward with a jab which the man blocked and they exchanged a few punches catching each other only grazing blows as they hit. 

Adam got a kick to the upper leg,, the old man took a body shot that should have downed him, but by the staggering way Adam moved to the side suggested he had kicked something as hard as a brick wall.

The old man moved forward and the two of them were suddenly head to head, hands gripping shoulders, fingers digging into shirts, before any of them knew what happened Adam was thrown to the ground his wrist held tightly in the other man’s hands,

He tried to get up but the old man leaped down after him throwing his legs over Adams chest and positioning his elbow over his hips.

He arched his back subtly which had Adam tapping one of his legs frantically.

He let go and the two disengaged.

Sunny cheered.

Adam rubbed his elbow, “Armbar?”

The old man smiled, “I’m old boy, not an invalid.”

Adam raised an eyebrow, “I can see that. How about another round.”

With a teasing smile the old human winked a grey eye, “Only if you want to get beat again.”

Adam snorted, “yeah not so sure about that.” he squared up, “Besides, today’s early bird special is on a knuckle sandwich.”

The old man wiggled his head mockingly, “Oh a wise guy eh.”

Once Upon a time Krill would have assumed they were being aggressive in their words, but the cadence and the smiles on their faces assured him that, despite their actions, this was a friendly fight.

And how strange it was to see someone like the old man holding up so well against someone less than twice his age. By all rights Adam should have beaten him easily, but this old human despite his looks was more than what he appeared. Krill was going to have to do some more research on human aging processes, for there was something he felt he was missing.

The two had squared up again, dancing around in a circle as they came in repeatedly for attacks. Adam tried to get the upper hand with a sudden flurry of blows but the old man weathered it using precision to his advantage with precis body shots that had Adam packing off huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf.

At some point Adam did something neither of them had ever see, grabbing the man under his arms and turning, flipping the man over the fulcrum of his hips and sending him flowing into the ground. Adam jumped after trying to claim full mount but the old man somehow flipped him to the side and reversed it catching Adam around the back of the neck with a forearm.

The flat of his forearm went across Adam’s throat, his legs wrapped around his middle, and his opposite hand grabbed onto his wrist. As he squeezed, he also elongated his body..

Krill stepped forward hand out afraid the man was going to pop his cervical spine apart until Adam tapped falling to the ground with a grunt.

“Ok ok, ONE more time.” Adam said wobbling to his feet

The old man followed after grinning, “Whatever you say.”

This last fight went much like the one before it. An exchange up top and a sudden move onto the ground, though this time the man trapped adam using his legs, thighs constricting around the side of his neck.

Adam was still breathing just fine, until his body slumped to the side.

Krill leaped forward in shock and confusion thinking that the man had somehow injured his neck, killed him. But almost as soon as the man let go Adam twitched and then sat up looking groggy.

“What the.”

“You were supposed to tap before passing out.”

Adam rubbed his head, “Was that a triangle choke… didn’t even feel like I was choking.”

Krill stormed forward, “What happened! Adam are you alright. Do I need to call the police.”

Adam waved him off, “It was a blood choke krill, he temporarily cut off blood supply to my brain, no big deal.”

“No big deal!” Krill shreakied, “How is it having blood in your brain NOT a big deal.’

Sunny cheered with glee behind Krill’s protests leaping up into the ring and towards the old man, “Can you teach me.”

The old man seemed surprised, but agreed and glanced oer at Adam, “Someone needs some extra lessons anyway.”

Adam snorted and rolled his eyes but otherwise took it with good humor.

Krill sat fuming in the corner.

Humans, frigging humans always finding ways to hurt themselves. Crushing each other’s windpipes and cutting off carotid arteries, and bending joints that weren't supposed to be bent, and all for what because it was FUN to look STRONGER. He couldn't believe this.

Stupid 

Stupid humans.

He was going to have to tell someone. He was going to have to rant.

He was…..

Probably going to write an academic paper, though he was going to be angry while doing it. 

#humans are insane #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #earth is a deathworld #Earth is space Ausralia

[novantinuum]

Is the “villain card” really a VILLAIN card- or something else?

So, I’ve been thinking a lot today about @faelapis​‘s recent post (link in reblogs so this can go in tags) discussing the corrupted Steven theory, and specifically how he pointed out how in the intro... that the camera “zooms inside Steven’s heart” when transitioning to the shot that features Big Looming Pink Fella.

And I know the fandom generally refers to threatening spreads such as these as “villain cards,” since- at the time of the intro’s release in October, all of these characters were heavily implied to be antagonistic to our main characters in some way. But after seeing the first ten episodes of SUF in full, I feel we should pause and ask ourselves-

Are any of these characters really villains?

And if not, then what IS their role in the greater story of this epilogue, and more importantly- their role featured prominently in the show’s intro?

Let’s take a quick look at the characters we’ve seen already.

_

Jasper

Thus far, Jasper has played the least antagonistic part she ever has in the entire history of Steven Universe. I’d even go so far as to consider her a shaky acquaintance of Steven’s, at this point. 

But as far as her purpose in the show goes so far, Jasper is important because she is the very first person to mash it up with Pink Mode Steven. The very first person who catches a glimpse of this new ability of his to begin with. When Steven first shifted into this state, it was because she pushed him into a situation that was both emotionally and physically compromising. Jasper is every bit as stubborn as Steven. She knows exactly how to push his buttons. It’s for this reason that I don’t think he would’ve discovered his pink state without her, without her egging him on to fight.

Steven tries his best to be very patient with everyone, and yet his frustrations with Jasper’s inability to move forward (hypocrite, much?) elicited a rather jarring rush of directed anger that- before- he generally seemed to keep bottled inward. 

I get the strong sense that he didn’t allow himself to freely and openly express these sorts of “negative” emotions at all before this encounter. 

Furthermore, Jasper slapped him in the face with the biggest call-out of his mental state ever.

Jasper: “I don’t need your help. You’re the one that needs help. You think you’ve beaten me, but you’ve never beaten me on your own. You’ve always been a fusion. You’ve always had your friends because you’re nothing without them. You think everyone needs help.”

Steven: “I – I just…”

Jasper: “But it’s only you. No one is as pitiful as you.”

Every other episode of the show so far has only gone to further showcase that this is what Steven believes about himself right now. (See: Little Graduation, especially.)

And what happened with Jasper that day... was just the beginning of his slow decline.

Bluebird Azurite

This character... also isn’t big villain material. She’s barely even a threat.

Rather, Bluebird serves as a stark reminder for Steven that there are people out there that hate him for being him. Not only that, but those who would fuse for just that reason.

To hate him together.

(I must admit, I still find the notion of Steven potentially falling apart because of a lack of self-love interesting, as much as it is heartbreaking. But I already wrote that post, so moving on-)

But she also is a reflection of how Steven is resistant to change right now.

Greg: “I mean, everyone can change, but not everyone wants to.”

Steven: “Yeah...”

He used to believe in the idea of positive change wholeheartedly, and yet... I think the passing years have led him to a place where he himself is scared of it, of the unknown, of moving on from what’s comfortable, of all the nebulous what-ifs. Which is why when Bluebird shows up, he projects his own resistance on this scenario. He doubts Bluebird’s ability to change for the better because he now doubts that for himself.

Instead, I think he fears he may be changing for the worse.

I strongly believe we’re going to see Bluebird again. I just get the sense that there’s more she can bring to the table. 

“Mean” Lapis and “Nice” Lapis

Also not villains. Just obstacles.  

Similarly to Bluebird, they seem to push that “resistance to change” theme further for Steven. Some people just... are stuck in their ways. (Thankfully though, not all of them. Thanks, Freckles. Love ya lots!) 

Since Why So Blue is focused squarely on capping Lapis’ character arc, there’s not as much Steven-related meta threads I can glean from their first appearance, truth be told. 

I think we’re likely to see more from these two, as well. If they do serve a greater role in the overarching story of SUF, it isn’t complete yet. Fingers crossed!

Cactus Steven

Dear goodness, this creature is completely innocent. Poor baby. XD

This poor fella plays the role of being a physical embodiment of- at the time of Prickly Pair- Steven’s mental state, and pushing the lad to repress his turbulent emotions even further.

Throughout SUF so far, Steven has become consumed by negative self-talk, (”I used to be helpful, but the Gems don't need me anymore”), a stark reluctance to let anyone see the evidence of his mental instability, and explosive anger he cannot gain a handle on. 

And as his mirror, Cactus Steven: 

Repeats things Steven says, spilling all of that negative self-talk and the reasons why he doesn’t want to approach the Gems about his issues.

Is shoved away under a box, representing Steven’s emotional repression.

Warps into a monstrous form, explosive anger brimming at the surface.

Notably, Cactus Steven only fights in direct response to what others lay on him. He is not overtly antagonistic until Steven himself makes the first strike. Later, while the Gems are attempting to fight him back, he desperately tries pushing them away... much like Steven has been all season.

Cactus Steven: “Just... get... OUT!”

Furthermore, Steven creates him. He creates this monster. He’s the reason he becomes so messed up in the first place. That has to feel pretty awful, especially when he’s doubting his ability to be helpful nowadays. He tried to nurture this creature, and look where that got him? This furthers the narrative idea mentioned earlier, of Steven perhaps fearing that he’s now changing for the worse.

Finally, by by the end of this episode, it seems worryingly as if Steven’s reluctance to open up about his problems has solidified.

Pearl: “Is there anything you need to talk about...?”

Steven: “...I think I’ve said enough.”

_

To wrap...

We don’t yet know what role White Diamond will play, but it’s probable that it’ll be something that strongly impacts Steven in a personal way. And at this point in the show, I’m doubtful she’ll suddenly heel-turn back into villainy.  

With all this in mind, my current theory is that... 

These characters are not on this title sequence card as ‘villains’ at all, but rather, each serve as important ‘road markers’ on the path towards the eventual climax of SUF.

Meaning, Steven’s encounters with each of them will influence his way of thinking in a way that leads him further down the road towards eventual corruption. Or whatever else is waiting for him at the end.

And the camera specifically “zooms into Steven’s heart” because these characters, standing in front of that monster, represent the moments that lead him into that state. 

What we’re seeing here is a visual record of the burden he carries inside him.

#su #su future #steven universe #su meta #corrupted steven theory #my post stuff #long post #the mighty 500 #1K #2K #3K

[movedyourchair505]

Inchiostro

For Valentine’s, another honeymoon drabble.

- chapter navigation -

With the sea to her right, the warmth of the sun illuminating her skin, Jade breathed in the ocean air as they flew down the street, adjusting the wine red silk scarf around her head to keep her hair in place. She turned her head to the side, took in Alexander's profile as he drove, the way his sunkissed skin, as well as the darkness of his tattoos contrasted the light peach colour of his linen shirt, buttoned and half undone to reveal his chest, more ink, his gold chain, and his tanned chest. A pair of aviator shades, gold frames and tinted glass, was shielding his eyes from the sun they were driving towards and Jade admired the way they suited him, sat on the curve of his nose, his tan accenutating the sharp edges of his features even more, illuminated in the sun. He brought the cigarette between his fingers to his lips, taking a deep brag, then blowing the smoke to the side, his other hand on the wheel, though barely having to do anything as they drove straight on, along the ocean.

Jade still had no idea where they were going, had been told that it was another part of her wedding present in a way, and she couldn't wait, could not possibly imagine what more he could have in store for her after the exquisite lunches on rooftop terraces, luxurious dinners with breathtaking views, breakfast freshly made according to his specific orders from the hotel and delivered into their room for her to have in bed, champagne and cognac whenever she liked, priority access to any historically or culturally important architecture she could dream of seeing, as well as Alexander having planned to take her to any store she could possibly want to go to, her luggage having already doubled with the things he'd been buying her.

When he took a sudden turn to the left, slowed and parked the car, she was none the wiser as to what their destination could be, looking around and drawing her own pair of large sunglasses from her face to look around, Alexander having already made his way around the car to open the door for her. As Jade stepped out onto the pavement, her classic Louboutins clicking on the ground and she once again admired the car Alexander had purchased prior to their honeymoon,  had already arranged for someone to drive it back to Napule, the model a rare 1965 Ferrari 275 GTS convertible in a metallic teal.

She smiled as she recalled his initial excitement when it'd been driven to the back of the hotel for them and he'd gotten behind the wheel, the pride on his face having only increased due to her own enthusiasm about its condition and elegance.

He held his arm out for her, crushing his cigarette with the heel of his shiny white leather loafers, then slicked back his hair, despite a few stray strands falling over his forehead. His hair was freshly trimmed and she could barely resist running her fingers through it as she took his arm and let him lead her down the street, then stopping in front of a small shop and it took a few moments for her to realise that they were stood outside a tattoo shop, her eyes widening.

"Alexander..."

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards and he turned his head to face her. "Still gotta get tha' brandin' covered up, eh?"

Her eyes widened. "Now? Here?"

He chuckled, nodding as he pushed the door open. "I made sure t'ave one of the best artists fly in for us, 'n this is the best studio in Athens, darlin'," he explained, giving a nod to the woman sat behind the desk as they entered. "And since I 'aven't got anehfin' yet tha' 'as t'do wif you, pupa..." He licked his lips. "Weh're doin' tha' todeh. Better 'ere than at 'ome, eh? Come back wif it 'n... I knew yeh'd wanna watch."

She couldn't believe as she watched him, listened, his top lip stretching as he spoke. "Something to do with me?" she asked, unable to hide the excitement in her tone, the pride, the eagerness.

Alexander smirked. "Mmm..." he hummed, nodding slowly. "Knew yeh'd like tha'." He could read the expression clearly on her face, the exact reaction he'd anticipated. "Yeahh..." he drawled, self-assured, giving another nod to the woman behind the counter as she stood and gestured for them to go ahead and further into the shop.

"Mr Turner..." she said. "Mrs Turner."

Jade smiled, filled with pride once again, despite having been addressed with his name for days now, she doubted she'd ever get enough, her hand closing around Alexander's bicep as she stayed close to his side, following the woman into one of the backrooms.

"This is Mr Sato," the woman said. "You spoke to him on the phone, I understand?"

Alexander nodded, shook the hand of the man who rose from a large office chair to meet them. "Pleasure teh meet yeh. 's an honour."

"Pleasure's all mine," Mr Sato nodded. "This is your wife?"

"Indeed," Alexander stated, his hand coming down on Jade's hip.

"Nice to meet you," she said as she shook his hand, still not quite able to believe that he had set his mind to getting a tattoo that somehow would relate to her and she watched as the other man gestured for Alexander to sit down in one of the chairs clad in dark transparent foil, then adjusting the armrest for him to position ideally to have access to his bicep.

"You can sit there, Mrs Turner," the woman from the counter said, gesturing to a large chair that offered a perfect view of Alexander. "Can I bring you some coffee?"

"Coffee would be lovely," Jade stated. "Black."

"And for meh too," Alexander nodded.

Jade looked from her back to him, had noticed all throughout the last few days despite people working for him, there was an ease to his way of speaking to people, his overall manner of conducting any sort of interaction more relaxed, less tension in his body, and she couldn't begin to describe how much it relieved her that he was resting too, had not only laid out their honeymoon for her to have anything she could possibly ask for, but also to treat himself to the well-deserved luxury he'd needed. "Alexander?" she asked, clearing her throat, his gaze lifting instantly to meet hers.

"Darlin'?"

She pursed her lips, a smile spreading across her face. "Are you going to tell me what you're getting?" she asked, raising her eyebrows at him as she leaned back in her seat, crossing her legs.

"Yeh'll see," he chuckled, scratching lightly at his chin while the tattoo artist started rolling up the sleeve of his shirt, revealing the branding on his skin with a blank expression, then started cleaning it.

"It doesn't hurt, does it, Mr Turner?"

"Gettin' it were worse," Alexander shrugged, waving it off. "Been through mooch worse." His eyes wandered once again to Jade, taking in the way she sat with her full attention on him, and he could barely control himself, eager to see her reaction, though concealing his own eagerness, pressing his lips together. He'd chosen the piece weeks, months in advance, had perfected it to the point where he felt it was already part of him. "Jade..." he warned as he saw her leaning forward. "No peakin'."

She smiled. "I can't believe you," she said teasingly, shaking her head.

"'s the perfect piece and I kno' yeh'll luv it," he assured her. "Works perfectleh wif the rest of the sleeve, 'n the shadin' will cover the edges of the branded letters."

Jade nodded slowly, did not try to make out the outline the artist pressed onto Alexander's skin as he was angled away from her anyway and she leaned back, wondered for a moment if she could get a magazine, though when she got her coffee and the needle started to rattle, she knew instantly that she would be able to sit there for hours, no matter how long it'd take, to watch Alexander tense slightly, though seemingly indifferent to the pain of the needle lining his arm with more ink, a sensation he was probably used to, his face twitching slightly every now and then, though even when the noise of the needle intensified, suggesting it would inflict more of a sting to his delicate skin, he sat straight, the veins prominent in his neck as he swallowed, his adam's apple increasingly visible as the skin of his throat stretched over it and with every passing moment, she felt more excited to see the finished result, she would be on his skin in some sort of way, and she knew with how much he'd been spoiling her he wouldn't dare raise an expectation he couldn't meet, knew that whatever the outcome would be, it would blow her away, would make her want him even more, appreciate him more than she thought possible.

"Do you need a break?" Mr Sato asked after a while, an hour on the clock having passed when Jade glanced up and took a sip from her second cup of cappuccino.

Alexander shook his head. "Nah, fank yeh. All good. Weh got plans later."

Jade raised an eyebrow, tilting her head to the side. "We do?"

He chuckled. "'course," he said, cocking an eyebrow as he let his gaze wander from the curious smile of her face, enjoyed immensely how excited she instantly was, how he had her wrapped around his finger with anticipation having merely uttered four words. "C'mere."

Jade rose to her feet without second thought, placed her cup on one of the tables, then strode over to him, her heels clicking on the shiny black floor. "Yes?"

He licked his lips, his full attention on her as she approached, the way her long legs moved, the curves of her body exquisitely accentuated by the structured white dress, her sunglasses and silk scarf now in her little purse, leaving her face completely uncovered and gorgeous, making his fingers itch to smooth back her hair, cup the side of her face, hold and touch her body until her eyes rolled back for him, kiss her until she was breathless. "C'mere," he insisted again, this time beckoning for her to lean down to him.

Her breath shook slightly as his lips brushed against her neck while he spoke, warm, his palm on the small of her back possessively.

"Gunna drive out of town for sum exclusive boutiques, if yeh like..." he drawled, his lips placing a hint of a kiss to her skin just below her ear.

"Mmm..." she hummed.

"I ain't done," he warned, his hand wandering to her hip, giving a slight squeeze.

She waited patiently as he kept her right where she was with just the touch of his palm, the promise of his lips.

"'s gunna beh a luvleh drive by the sea... yeh can drive for a bit."

Her eyes widened and she could hardly conceal the rush she felt, her skin tingling at the prospect of driving the beautiful vintage Ferrari.

He chuckled, his lip twitching. "Wait," he stated, his voice unshaken. "Yeh been wantin' teh choose sum art for back 'ome, rehyt?"

Jade's lips parted, but she waited, didn't want to interrupt the gorgeous promises he was making, wanted more even as he was already giving her everything and more.

"Jade?"

She nodded slowly. "Yes," she breathed, the sound of the needle having faded into the background and she couldn't quite comprehend how he was so collected, spoke so calmly, the depth of his voice irresistible, making her heart beat faster, skip a beat when he came closer, his warm breath ghosting over her skin.

"I kno' I went real 'ard on yeh this mornin'..." he hummed, was almost aching to see bruises he'd left on her hips underneath the dress, knew the tight material could not be kind in any way,  reminding her with every move she made of the way he'd taken control of her right when she'd woken up, had been awake mere minutes before his hands had been on her, a few moments and she was begging for him to take her, crying for more as he'd made her come undone once, twice, until she asked for more and more and he'd pushed her down into the mattress, until he had decided that she'd had enough, that she couldn't take more. "So after dinner tonight... 'n sum luvleh wine I picked out for us..." He paused, pressing a open-mouthed kiss to her skin before his voice dropped into a drawl only audible to her, the needle drowning out his sinful promises to anyone but her. "Gunna eat yehr cunt real good, principessa, won't stop until yeh actualleh tell meh teh, I promise..."

She shivered. "Alexander..." she whispered, the deep drawl of his voice irresistible, his scent overwhelming, overpowering.

"Would yeh like tha'?" he teased, the edge of his voice merciless, demanding.

"Y-Yes..." she breathed. "Please."

"Please..." he repeated appreciatively, his thumb dragging over her hipbone where he knew he'd bruised her that morning. "Good girl." She drew her closer. "Sit in me lap, eh?" he asked. "But no peakin'."

She shifted obediently to sit on his thigh, though made sure not to move him too much, the tattoo artist however not seeming to be inconvienienced in the slightest. "Alexander," she whispered. "I love you."

He hummed appreciatively, his hand cupping the side of her neck, fingertips stroking over her throat. "'course yeh do, doll," he drawled. "I adore yeh, principessa. Joost makin' sure yeh get all the fings yeh deserve. Anehfin' yeh could dream of."

She sighed leaning her head against his shoulder, momentarily taken aback by how natural the comfort was that it offered, certain he would never think of doing anything but continue stroking his fingers over her throat. The rattling of the needle had become mere background noise, and Jade didn't notice the change in colour, the continuous switch in needle until she caught a glimpse of the piece from the corner of her eye, Alexander however noticing and raising an eyebrow.

"Jade?"

"It's finished, right?" she pouted as she lifted her head and the Mr Sato turned off the needle, nodding to her.

"Let 'im finish up first, clean it 'n all..." he said, looking down at the piece himself, having barely looked at the progress as he trusted him professionally, but was now also eager to look at the result, though he had no doubt it would look exactly like the sketch they'd agreed upon beforehand. "Oh, fook... marvellous work, Mr Sato."

"Can I look now?" Jade asked, her bottom lip pushed forward in a pout.

"'s done," Alexander nodded, his eye twitching as the artist wiped over the tattoo, then turning his arm that felt slightly heavy, unable to deny the pride the look on Jade's face instilled within him, cupping her face lovingly with his hand remaining on her.

Jade blinked back at the shaded piece of black and green, a detailed mosaic made out of jade stones that formed the shape of her face, a sharp contrast to the exclusively black ink that decorated the rest of his body, blending in however perfectly with the rest on his arm, just as he'd predicted. For a moment, she was speechless, the pride on his face, the way he commanded her attention completely, the scent of him, the warmth of his palm, she was hopelessly under his spell. "Alexander..." she breathed.

He chuckled, pursing his lips and tilting his head to the side. "D'yeh like it, doll?"

She swallowed hard. "It's... wow..." It was shaded skillfully, the branding completely overshadowed by the masterpiece now covering it. "This beautiful work and..." She licked her lips, though surprised when Alexander moved to stand up, doing the same so he could, unable to hold herself back and cupping his face into her hands, her thumb running along the edge of his jaw, his smooth skin, the clean shave from that morning tangible and she kissed him needily before he could stop her.

The sudden collision of his lips with hers had his self-control waver momentarily, a low growl escaping his lips and he kissed her back, drawn in by the plush feeling of her lips, the way she was desperate to show him how she felt, and he couldn't deny that this was what he'd hoped for all along, had seen the wonder in her eyes, the excitement, the pride, now rewarded with the cherry on top, barely in control of himself when she drew back for breath momentarily and he moved his hand to cup the side of her neck to keep her at a minimal distance. "Darlin'," he rasped, clearing his throat to compose himself. "Later."

Despite the firm tone in his voice, it carried a promise too, reassurance that she was more than happy with. She turned her head slightly, the cool metal of his rings against the skin of her neck as he kept his hand there. "Mr Sato?"

The artist looked up. "Yes, Mrs Turner?"

"I was wondering if you had a little more time."

He raised an eyebrow, and Jade could the surprise of Alexander's gaze on her.

"Of course I do for you, Mrs Turner."

A large smile spread across her face. "Perfect," she said, satisfied with the way she could get just what she wanted by being who she was, the way she'd always admired about Alexander and his power.

"Jade..." Alexander said slowly, a tension in his voice, though the moment she spoke again, he relaxed, his gaze instantly softened, mesmerised.

"It won't take long," she said. "I'd just like to get my husband's initials."

#alex turner #alex turner smut #alex turner fic #alex turner fanfiction #alex turner fanfic #honeymoon #nn #alex/jade #jade rivera #arctic monkeys #The Last Shadow Puppets #tlsp #adt #writing #chaptered fic #napule nights #am #mafia au #mafia!al #honeymoon drabbles #chaptered #alex x female oc

[host-club-hq]

Call of the Scar pt. 3

➼ pairing: harry potter x reader

➼ genre: sfw, fluffy, fantasy

➼ word-count: 3.4k

➼ summary: Harry Potter and Y/N Weasley embark on their great journey together in their fourth year at Hogwarts. What does this unsuspecting year hold for them?

➼ part 3 of many :)

➼ want to request? do it here. let me know what i can write for you :)

Dumbledore rises and nods to the back of the Hall, signaling Filch, who begins to limp forward with an old chest.

"I wold like to say a few words before we bring in the casket." The Hall stops and looks to Dumbledore at the front of the Professors' tables. 

"Casket. Did he say casket?" you lean over to Hermione to confirm your suspicions. Hermione nods.

"Eternal glory. That is what awaits the student who wins the Triwizard Tournament. But to do so, that student must survive three tasks. Three very dangerous tasks.”

"Wicked." Fred and George mutter with identical smirks adorning their features.

"You see, the Triwizard Tournament has an unfortunate history of killing off its participants. For this reason, the Ministry has seen fit to impose a new rule. To explain, we have the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, Mr. Bartemius Crouch-"

CRACK!

A stitch of lightning flashes across the enchanted ceiling and the torches along the walls flicker, casting the Hall into and eerie semi-darkness. The rear doors fly open and a man stands in dark silhouette, clad in a long black traveling cloak, clutching a staff. Lighting flashes again and Alastor "Mad-eye" Moody is revealed, all grizzled grey hair and scarred flesh. As he limps forward- CLONK! CLONK!- all eyes shift to his wooden leg while the electric blue eye imbedded in his skull scans the Hall warily.

"Bloody hell. That's Mad-eye Moody." Ron speaks aloud.

"Alastor Moody? The Auror?" Hermione corrects as she leans to get a look of him.

"Auror?" Dean Thomas pipes up from where he's seated.

"Dark wizard catcher. Half the cells in Azkaban are filled thanks to him. Supposed to be mad as hatter these days, though. Sees Death Eaters in his dustbins." Ron sighs in disappointment of the once great man.

"Dark wizard catcher?" you take a sudden interest in the profession as it's mentioned in this passing conversation. 

Another bolt of lightning flashes. Annoyed, Moody points his wand to the ceiling and, casting a red jet of flames, calming the enchanted sky. Slowly, the torches regain their bloom.

Satisfied, Moody pockets his wand, brings out a flask, and tips it to his lips. Harry watches his every move, fascinated. 

"That's that he's drinking, d'you suppose?" Seamus quietly inquires. 

"Dunno, but I don't think it's pumpkin juice." you grimace. 

Moody and Dumbledore exchange whispers and a handshake, then Moody takes one of the remaining seat at the tall table. The staff eye him in mute disbelief. 

"Barty, as you were saying..." Dumbledore gestures for Barty to continue. 

Barty Crouch blinks and turns back to the stunned students. 

"After due consideration, the Ministry has concluded that, for their own safety, no student under the age of seventeen will be allowed to put forth their name for the Triwizard Tournament. This decision is final." Barty winces when the uproar of upset underage students begins and he does his best to ignore them.

"What?!" Fred is bewildered. 

"That's rubbish!" George shakes his fist angrily. 

"SILENCE!" Dumbledore bellows. He says this so forcefully the result is absolute. 

"Thank you."

Taking his wand, Dumbledore turns to the casket and gives it three taps. As the lip opens, he removes a wooden cup dancing with blue-white flames.

"The Goblet of Fire. Anybody wishing to submit themselves to the Tournament need only write their name upon a piece of parchment and drop it into the flame within the next twenty-four hours. Do not do so lightly. If chosen, there is no turning back. As of this moment... the Triwizard Tournament has begun."

With a massive thud, Moody drops a textbook onto Neville's desk, the same textbook on everybody's desk: The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection.

"I see you all slogged down to Flourish & Blotts like good little boys and girls and bought the textbook. Congratulations... it'll make a find doorstop." Moody sneers. 

The students exchanged confused glances and then glance back down at their textbooks. Not like most were going to read them, anyways. Moody turns. 

"I'm Alastor Moody, ex-Auror, Ministry malcontent and your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I'm here because Dumbledore asked me. End of story, goodbye, the end. Any questions?" Moody's blue eyes scan the silent classroom and land on Harry. Harry stares back, willing himself to hold the old warrior's horrifying visage. Moody turns away and takes his flask.

"When it comes to the Dark Arts, I believe in a practical approach. You may wonder what I mean by that. I'll show you. But first, which of you can tell me..." Moody takes a sour tug on the flask, snatches up a specimen jar, and watches a spider scuttle within.

"... how many Unforgivable Curses are there?"

The students trade uneasy glances. Finally, Hermione's hand raises tentatively. As his real eye continues to stare at the spider, Moody's blue eye rotates into Hermione.

"I might've known. Go on, Granger." Moody encourages. 

"There are three, sir-" She stops. "How did you know..." Moody circles again.

"Your name? I know a bit more than that. You're top of your class- correct?"

"Yes, sir..."

"Naturally inquisitive?"

"Yes..."

"Socially inept?"

"Well..."

"And... Muggle born." Moody stops, eye raking over the others.

"I'm not about to walk into a room full of strangers without doing background. Constant vigilance!" Moody jabs his staff into the floor right in front of you and Harry. As the class jumps, Harry studies Moody's scars. 

"Girl Weasley!" He exclaims. Your eyes rake up to meet his with anxiety swimming in your irises. 

"Sir?" you gulp.

"Don't think I didn't research your background as well." Moody makes sure of that.

"I don't doubt you did, sir." your eyes fail to maintain eye contact. 

"Twin sister of Ronald Weasley?"

"Yes, sir."

"Always alert?"

"I would think so-"

"Bossy?"

"I-... I would suppose I am-"

Moody speaks to Harry. "The devil likes disguises. Never forget that." He nods. Harry remains transfixed. Finally, Moody moves on. You let out a hitched breath and slouch your tensed shoulders. 

"He's right, you are bossy." Harry smiles mischievously. Your eyes shift to look at his and you make no comment, which is highly unusual for you, given your nature. Harry's smile disappears when he notices your irregular breathing and the tears welling up beneath your eyelids. He assumes you didn't take Moody's comment well and he'd taken it a step further. You turn away and Harry reaches for your shoulder cautiously. 

"Wait, Y/N, I-"

"Again, Granger. How many curses?" Moody speaks again and Harry instinctively shuts his mouth. 

Hermione hesitates, noticing the glossy nature of your eyes before she realizes she's being spoken to. She steals once last glance at you before she turns to Moody. 

"Three." She replies. 

"And they're so named...?"

"Because they're unforgivable. The use of any one of them..." Hermione's voice shakes. 

"... will earn you a one-way ticket to Azkaban, correct. Now, the Ministry says you're too young to see what these curses do, I say different! You need to know what you're up against. You need to be prepared. You need to find another place to put your gum besides the underside of your desk, Mr. Finnigan!"

Seamus blinks, caught in the act. He whispers to his desk mate. "Blimey. The old codger can see out of the back of his head..." Moody whirls around and chucks the chalk he was writing with in Seamus's direction.

"... and hear across classrooms! So. Which curse shall we see first? Weasley!"

"Y-yes?" Ron gasps and jumps to look up at Moody. 

"Give me a curse." Moody implores pressingly, his artificial darting from the board to Ron hastily. 

Ron watches uneasily as Moody returns to the specimen jar, reaches inside and lets the spider run up his hand. 

"Well... our dad once told me about one... the Imperious Curse." Ron falters, voice wavering. Lory nods grimly to herself, Ron's statement evoking a memory of long ago. 

"I expect your father would know that one. Gave the Ministry a fair bit of grief some years ago. Perhaps this will show you why." Moody unsheathes his wand and aims it carefully towards the fidgeting insect.

"Imperio!"

As Moody waves his wand, the spider leaps from his palm onto Dean Thomas's desk. The class begins to giggle, and the giggles turn into roaring laughter as the spider hops from Dean's desk and into Crabbe's face, who exclaims in horror and reaches up to swat the spider from his face. 

"Don't worry! She's completely harmless." Moody assures with a small smirk playing on his face.

The spider flies across the room and lands on Paravrti's hand, who immediately ceases her laughter and exchanges her amused expression for one of terror with a mixture of horror. She stiffens and freezes at the contact, heavily exhaling as the spider crawls up her arm and dangerously close to her face. 

Moody cackles in amusement as he directs the spider to hover dangerously close to Ron's face, who whimpers in terror. 

"If she bites... she's lethal!" Moody grins with a playful wave of his wand, causing the spider to drop on Ron's face, who's eyes widen to the size of saucers as his body stiffens. Moody laughs once more, true delight gracing his features. 

Draco's laugh sounds prominently through the classroom and snatches Moody's attention, who doesn't enjoy the smug look gracing his features. 

"What are you laughing at?" Moody challenges, hurriedly waves his wand to cause the spider leap through the air and land directly on Draco's face, causing him to yell in horror. 

"Serves you right, Malfoy." you turn in your seat and grin childishly at him. Once the spider finally removes itself from Draco's face, he doesn't hesitate to glare intently at you, smugly sitting in front of him. 

"Shut your mouth, blood traitor." he growls. You merely shrug, your heart hammering in your chest with confidence. 

"Talented, isn't she? What should I have her do next? Jump out a window? Drown herself?" One by one, the students' smiles dry up.

"Scores of witches and wizards claimed they only did You-Know-Who's bidding under the influence of the Imperius Curse. Here's the rub: how do you sort out the liars?" Moody rapidly wets his lips, stating intently at the class. The statement sinks into the minds of the students as it falls silent for moment, if only just. 

"Another!" Moody urges. He scans the forest of hands, when his eye rotates with particular interest on... Neville.

"It's Longbottom, is it? Professor Sprout tells me you have an aptitude for Herbology." Moody mutters quietly to Neville as he towers over his desk.

Neville nods shyly, then answers. "There's... the Cruciatus Curse." he stutters nervously.

"Yes. Particularly nasty." Moody exclaims. He steps forward, looming over Neville and drops the spider onto his desk.

"Crucio!"

The spider twitches, legs trembling violently. Moody stands utterly motionless, eyes fixed on Neville, who seems transfixed on the spider's misery. Lorelei's contorts in sympathy for the creature as it whines and screeches, her eyes squinting shut to obstruct her sightline of the writhing spider. Hermione's eyes drift from the spider to Neville's hands, which are clenching the corners of his desk so hard that his knuckles are turning white.

"Stop it! Can't you see it's bothering him?! Stop it!"

Finally... Moody drops his wand. The room falls under a solemn silence. 

"Um... perhaps you could give us the last Unforgivable Curse, Miss Granger." Moody stands at her desk, drops the spider from his hand to her desk, and stares at her expectantly. Everyone's eyes are trained on Hermione to catch her response, especially you. 

Hermione glances at you and shakes her head insistently. 

"Avada Kedavra!"

There is a flash of green light, a rush of air, and the spider... rolls onto its back. Dead.

"The killing curse. There is no blocking it. Only one person is known to have survived it. And he's sitting in this room."

As the others turn their eyes on him, Harry looks up and sees Moody studying him. Moody's tongue nervously probes the corner of his mouth as he takes out his flask and turns away. Harry's eyes drop tot he spider, lying motionless.

"Bugger off, you lot. Nothing to see here." you shoo off the tables around you and the students avert their eyes elsewhere in the room. Harry is silently grateful. 

You, Harry, Ron, and Hermione drift from the class. 

"Brilliant, isn't he? Completely demented, of course, and terrifying to be in the same room with, but he's really been there, y'know? He's looked evil in the eye." Ron gushes. 

"I think he's cruel. Did you see Neville? I though he was going to-" Harry lets out a short warning whistle before you can continue: up ahead, within earshot, Neville stands by a stained glass window, his face running in rainy blue light as he gazes vaguely beyond. 

"Neville....?" you gently touch his shoulder. 

Clunk! Clunk! Moody limps past them and places a leathered hand on Neville's shoulder. 

"It's alright, sonny. You come with me. We'll have a cup of tea in my office." Moody leads Neville away. Harry and the others head off themselves. 

Set within the glass pane is an ancient witch fashioned out of blue glass, her "skin" running with rain. A tiny fissure mars the glass below one eye. She looks be crying. 

A bitter wind sweeps crystalline sheets of rain from the roof. Far below, Cedric Diggory dashes toward the Great Hall.

Inside the Hall, the goblet flickers eerily at the top. A group of underclassmen- Harry and Ron among them- stand by as their older classmates submit their names. Hermione clutches a copy of Triwizard Tragedies. You nudge her. 

"You're only going to worry yourself sick with that book, you know." you inform curtly, eyeing the book. 

"People have gotten splinched in this Tournament! More than once!" Hermione exclaims in horror. 

"Splinched?" Dean Thomas inquires. 

"Dunno. But it doesn't sound good." Seamus exhales anxiously. 

"Potter." Cedric nods to Harry and drops his name. Ron raises his hand in greeting, but Cedric is already dashing back into the rain. Ron frowns, drops his hand, and glances back to the Goblet. 

"Eternal glory. Be brilliant, wouldn't it, three years from now, when we're old enough, to be chosen?" Ron dreams. 

"Better you than me." Harry grins and Ron nods knowingly. 

"Better not be either of you, you hear me?" you warn the two. Ron rolls his eyes. 

"You're not the boss of me. I am two minutes older." Ron brags. The group groans. 

"Not this again." Hermione goes back to her book. 

"Oh, two whole minutes older. What an accomplishment. You probably pulled me by my heal to get out first." You retort in exasperation. Ron scowls. "Did not!" He exclaims. 

You’re about to continue the argument when, just then, Fred and George come striding forth, looking very pleased indeed. 

"Well, we've done it, lads." Fred announces proudly, almost smugly. 

"Cooked it up just this morning." George smirks. They hold up twin vials. 

"It's not going to work..." Hermione informs in a sing-song tone. Everyone turns. Hermione flips a page in her book. 

"Yeah? And why's that, Granger?" The twins arrive either of her sides. 

"Because a genius like Dumbledore couldn't possibly be fooled by a dodge as pathetically dim-witted as an Aging Potion." Hermione informs with an annoyed expression. 

"That's what makes it so brilliant. It's pathetically dim-witted." Fred's playful smile never falters. 

"Go on, then." you challenge. 

"Ready Fred?" "Ready George." "Bottoms up!"

As one, they top a gooey green liquid onto their tongues and, with great drama, cross the golden line encircling the Goblet. As they drop their names, everyone waits. And waits. Fred and George grin and hive five each other and...

... are ejected high in the air, out of the circle and flat on their backs, whereupon little white beards sprout on their chins. Everyone laughs.

"You said!"

"You said!"

The twins lunge at each other, limbs tangled as they wrestle each other into submission, blaming the other for their shared misfortune. Then Seamus stops laughing. Then Dean. Harry. Ron. You. Finally, when no one is laughing, Hermione looks up and sees what has silenced them:

Victor Krum.

He drops his name, glances at her, briefly, then lowers his head and slouches away. Hermione watches him go, briefly, then returns back to her book. 

"What do you suppose that was?" You lean slightly to whisper in Harry's ear, who shrugs. 

"No idea." he answers with little interest. Ron, on the other hand, is close to glaring.

The House tables crackle with anticipation as, overhead, the enchanted ceiling swirls with dark clouds. At the Tall Table, the staff awaits, Moody among them. Dean Thomas dashes up to the Gryffindor table.

"Did you hear?! Not a single student from Beauxbatons submitted their name." he exclaims. 

"What!?" Ron gasps. Harry and Ron glance to the Ravenclaw table, where Cho sits next to an empty seat. Ron looks crestfallen. 

"Oh, rubbish, one of them must have submitted their name." Your expression changes from determined to confused when you realize that none of the Beauxbaton students are anywhere to be seen.

"They've gone home!" Ron declares, bewildered and disappointed. 

"I can't say I'm surprised. Those girls were just a tad high-strung, if you ask me." Hermione's triumphant smirk is unmissable, and you pat her on the shoulder with the same type of smirk. 

Suddenly, there is a stir at the back of the Hall and the Beauxbaton girls, chins held high, stride single-file into the room, past the House tables and up to the Goblet of Fire where- one after another- they deposit their names. As a final flourish, tiny Gabrielle Delacour casts a handful of pixie dust into the Goblet, which issues a pink cloud of rose petals. The Hall rings with whistles and cheers. Ron beams. 

"Oh, for crying out loud." you slouch in your seat at the display. 

"I love it when they do this..." Ron sighs with a dazes expression overtaking his features. 

"Do what?" Hermione demands. 

"You know... walk together."

"Thank you, ladies of Beauxbatons, for that enjoyable but of theatre. Now... the moment has arrived." Dumbledore draws his wand and gives a great sweeping motion. Instantly, the torches lining the hall gutter, then die. The only light comes from the blue-white flames of the Goblet. 

A hush descends. Then... the flames crackle and turn red. A charred bit of parchment flutters from the goblet and Dumbledore plucks it out of the air.

"The champion for Durmstrang is... Victor Krum." A storm of applause accompanies Krum from the Slytherin table to the top of the hall and into the adjoining chamber.

"No surprise there!" Ron scoffs. 

Once more, the Hall grows quiet, all eyes on the Goblet. The flames turn red. A second piece of parchment, a particularly feminine parchment, floats free.

"The champion for Beauxbatons is... Fleur Delacour."

"I'm telling you, they don't make them like that at Hogwarts." Ron shakes his head and whistles through his fingers- a touch too loudly, and you whack him harshly upside the head. Hermione glowers at him.

"And lastly, the Hogwarts champion." A beat of stressed silence passes. "Cedric Diggory!"

"Silly git..." Ron grumbles as the Hall erupts in cheers. 

"He's meant to be quite smart, actually. And he's a Prefect." you nod curtly. 

"Like that's a good thing..." 

"Excellent! We now have our three champions. I'm sure I can count upon all of your to give your full support to each and every-"

A collective gasp cuts Dumbledore short: the flames in the Goblet of Fire have, once more, turned red. Moody's eye rotates. A fourth... and fifth shred of parchment flutter forth. For a moment, Dumbledore simply lets them float in the air, regarding it suspiciously, then he takes them.

"Harry Potter and Y/N Weasley." He announces grimly. 

Your face falls and your heart stops beating for a moment. The blood drains from your face and you turn to look at Harry, who's utterly confused as well. 

There is a moment of suspended silence. Then every eye in the Hall turns toward you and Harry. Incredulous, Ron searches your face for some explanation. Finally, Hermione whispers:

"Go on, you two." Hermione places her hand gently on the small of your back to push your up. 

You and Harry rise stiffly and you begin the slow walk past the house tables. As you come level with the tall table, Harry catches sight of Dumbledore. He is not smiling.

#Harry Potter #harry potter and the goblet of fire #harry potter x reader #harry x reader #x reader #reader insert #hogwarts #triwizard tournament #goblet of fire #Ron Weasley #hermione granger #ron #hermione #fred weasley #george weasley #weasley #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fluff #harry potter smut #harry potter angst #harry potter oneshot #harry potter imagine #series #ongoing #wip

[k7l4d4]

Midnight Striga: Fairy Tail/Owl House Cross Fic Episode 5 Part 10

Hello, and once again, I welcome you to Midnight Striga. Please, enjoy.

Perry Porter strode into the Covention Center, eyes easily panning across and compartmentalizing the tragic sights around him, a skill he picked up by virtue of sheer experience. Clinically, he noted the amount of bodies present, living and dead, as well as the brow-raising sight of what could only be human corpses, if the ears were any indicator. He felt a sinking sensation within his stomach; whatever had occurred today would rock the Isles to its core, of that he had no doubt.

Shaking his head, Perry scanned the crowd again, eyes widening at the sight of a hand waving him over. Rushing over, he slid to a stop in front of his son, Augustus; his silly, energetic, passionate, brilliant son, Augustus, alive and well. “This is Perry Porter, on the scene saying,” He started, before pulling Gus into a hug. “I am so happy you’re alright.” He sighed, relieved, feeling Gus relax into his grip.

“I-I am really glad you got here so quickly dad.” Gus choked out, a light sprinkling of tears in his eyes. “A lot’s happened, and I really, really want to talk with you about it, but something more important came up, and I think you can help out, you know?” He put on his bravest smile, trying to hold in the scream that was building ever since he had managed to process that yes, everything that had happened to today was all but over.

“I really think it would be best that I try and talk with you about what happened here,” Perry began, before noticing the stubborn expression on his son’s face, “But I can see that you won’t budge on this. So, shall we?” He calmly asked, gesturing for his son to lead the way, which he did with a beaming smile.

As they walked through the clinic, Perry idly noted the general behaviors of the people around him; there was his son’s friend, Willow Park, tearfully talking with her parents, a relieved smile on her face. There were the Blight Children, the two eldest tightly squeezing themselves around their younger sister, a baffled look on her face. He saw the crowds of crying, pleading, nervous faces all around. As his son led him into a backroom of the small clinic that had been established, Perry came face to face with three figures; the Emperor’s Coven Head Lilith Clawthorne, Eda the Owl Lady, and a human girl, all seated around a central table, gesturing for him to sit. As his son quickly saw himself out of the room, Perry had the sinking suspicion he was in a bit over his head.

After they explained the situation, as much as they could at least, Perry took a deep breath, holding in a sigh. They wanted his help to spread this information, which he could see the basis behind it- a group that invested this much effort into an attack wasn’t going to just stop and people needed to know about them- but the sheer depth of this reveal would completely change the social landscape of Bonesburough. “Very well, I agree to help with this. Do you have a plan for how we go about this?” He asked Lilith, who seemed to be trying a bit too hard to hold authority over this meeting, despite the lack of resistance from the other two.

Lilith nodded. “We have two real options at this point.” She said, holding up two fingers for emphasis. “We can either do multiple takes and present them later, or we can have this meeting broadcast live as breaking news.” She ticked off the options on her fingers, a grave look of contemplation upon her face. Lilith pursed her lips. “Personally, I favor the second option.”

That caught the group by surprise. “Huh, I honestly thought you’d prefer to get this all perfect and have it presented later.” Eda commented, arching a brow.

Lilith snorted. “Please, sister, give me some credit. The longer we go without addressing this, the more severe public unrest and hysteria will become. While the release of this information will certainly have its own consequences, those are still preferable to the people being left in the dark, and drawing more unsavory conclusions.” Lilith calmly stated, gaining impressed looks from the others.

Perry calmly assembled the equipment he would need, adding in his own take on the situation. “While an official report would normally be prepared by the Emperor’s Coven,” He carefully ignored Eda’s derisive snort, “that would be contingent on them possessing factual information to present. Without it, anything they provided would be woefully inadequate for informing the people. While a Live Report of this interview will most certainly cause a stir, it will ultimately be a mere fraction of what would result if the Emperor’s Coven issued a report that ultimately proved to be false in some capacity.” The group blinked, but, after mulling it over, agreed with what he said; it made sense, if people placed trust in an organization and it failed them, whether as a result of malice or otherwise, there would be backlash.

Perry clapped his hands. “So! Let’s begin, shall we?” They all shared a look, and nodded.

As they gathered around the table, Lilith leaned forward. “Now then, human, it’s time for you to answer my questions. The People of the Isles are dying to hear what you have to say.”

Luz gave a challenging grin. “Ask away. I’m all ears.”

Taking that as his cue, Perry started up the broadcast. Turning the camera to himself, he began, voice grave. “To all the citizens of the Boiling Isles, this is Breaking News, Live from the Covention. I am Perry Porter, reporting on behalf of Emperor’s Coven Head Lilith Clawthorne.” He paused, allowing the prepared footage to play across the crystal balls of all watching; the broken walls and shattered stands, the caged prisoners held under guard, and the bodies of all those who’d died, some gathered together for examination, others… not so much. He continued. “Today, tragedy has struck. For the first time since Emperor Belos’ ascendancy, an organized attack on our people has been committed. Of the over 2000 attendees, approximately half have been slain, and a third of the remainder have sustained moderate to severe injuries. Many of them were children. Of the 300 Coven Guards assigned to the Covention, over half of them have died, with all but a quarter sporting severe injuries.”

“What is most shocking, however, is that those claiming responsibility, a group known as the Black Dog Squadron, working on behalf of a group or individual known as Oroboros, are humans. That’s right, humans!!” Perry exclaimed, milking the drama a bit more than he liked, but needing to keep the audience invested; tragedy could only captivate for so long. “During the attack, all displayed some form of magic, but none, bar a handful who commanded Plant Magic, utilized any of the Nine Magics. How is this possible? Why did this happen? What will we, as a society, do next? To help answer these questions, Lilith Clawthorne has initiated an interview with a human who fought on behalf of our people, one Luz Noceda.” He knew that the girl’s image was now emblazoned across every crystal ball on the Isles at this very moment, leading further weight to his broadcast, in theory at least. “I am here with Coven Head Lilith herself,” He indicated the prominent Witch, who raised her hand to the audience. “To broadcast the interview to you all. Please be advised, some of what may be discussed may be shocking to some viewers.” With his part finished for the moment, Perry fell silent, allowing the broadcast to focus on the interview, more of an interrogation really, going on in the room.

“To ensure that what you say is true,” Lilith began, cutting right to the chase. “I must insist that you swear an Unbreakable Vow to that effect. This way, none can claim you are attempting to deceive us. Is that acceptable?” She asked, holding her hand out to begin forming the spell.

Luz raised an eyebrow, but saw no problem with the spell. She shrugged. “Sounds fine to me.” She said bluntly, prompting a nod from Lilith as she formed the spell. When the circle was completed, the two shook hands through it, sealing the oath. Luz was blissfully unaware of the shock rippling through the Isles, as now none would be able to refute or deny her words without looking insane or foolish. She had effectively solidified her legitimacy irrefutably in a single instant.

“Excellent.” Lilith replied, a grim smile playing across her face. She began. “First of all, I must ask, for how long have humans been capable of magic?”

Luz gave a shrug. “I can’t give you an exact figure, but at least 700 years, most likely more.” She said, unaware and uncaring of the shock that erupted at her statement. Even Lilith wasn’t totally immune, managing to school her features, expertly concealing the bewildered shock at the girl’s reply.

Lilith cleared her throat, forcing her instinctive urge to dive into the historical implications of that statement. As calmly as she could, she continued. “I see. How is magic utilized in Human Society?”

Luz tilted her head a bit. “You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific than that. There are a lot of Human Societies, all of whom have magic capable individuals, and all have their own ways of doing things. A benefit of being the dominant species in our world, is that we can afford to divide ourselves into a LOT of individual cultures and communities.”

Lilith paled at that, unable to stop the question that bubbled up in response. “Just… how many humans are in existence, exactly?”

Luz pondered that for a moment before replying. “I can’t give you an exact number, but I’d say there’s about several hundred million of us. Our world is big, and there are very few places we can’t survive on it.”

Internally shaking her head, and forcing herself not to focus on all the implications that came to mind, Lilith continued with her questions. “What is this Oroboros that the attackers claimed to be working for?”

Luz’s eyes sharpened, a burning hate filling her eyes, enough that even those watching at home suddenly felt very unsafe at the moment. “Oroboros is a criminal organization; specifically, they are the single largest Dark Guild active in the world right now. Oroboros prides itself on its ability to seize control and orchestrate things to its own benefit, without any regard for the harm and chaos that erupts in their wake. Cruelty and brutality are prized and cultivated among their members, almost as much as magical power is. No crime is too heinous, no line too sacred for them to cross.” She hissed out, the pure malicious hate coloring her tone forcing Lilith to gulp in nervousness.

“I see.” And Lilith did see. She had personally borne witness to the aftermath of that cruelty and indifference; however, Luz’s response brought another question to mind, one she felt she needed an answer to. She narrowed her eyes. “Edalyn told me you would be an excellent source of information for this. So far, you have proven to be so, even if my questions have not been exacting enough to gain satisfactory answers as of yet. But that response of yours has me thinking. How do you know about Oroboros, Miss Noceda?” Lilith inquired, eyes focused.

Luz raised an eyebrow, stood up, and turned around. After ensuring her back was presented to the broadcast, she reached back, and pulled down at the back of her outfit. Seared into her flesh lay a symbol, a serpent arranged into a Sideways eight, biting its own tail. “I used to be a member.” Luz said, voice dead and hollow. She turned a heartbreakingly sad smile towards Lilith. “Specifically, I was a member under protest.”

“Elaborate.” Lilith ordered, voice hard and unrelenting. She could feel the urge to bring out her staff and blast this child into oblivion, but tamped it down. She didn’t have all the information yet.

Luz gave a chuckle, bitter and full of the kind of spite that made people glad for what they had. “Oroboros has no limits to what they are willing to do, and that extends to what lengths they are willing to go to for recruits. Whenever someone with a useful skill or magic appears in their information network, they send out recruiters. For those with a few too many morals, such as myself, they like to employ a more… decisive argument.” She turned an empty smile upwards, oblivious to the daggers Lilith was glaring her way. “Oroboros kidnapped my sister, and used her as a hostage to keep me in line.” Lilith froze, unblinking.

Luz continued, oblivious. “Whenever I talked back, Vee was beaten. Whenever I failed an assignment, she had a bone broken. Whenever I completed a job, she got a good meal, after having been starved and deprived of water to just short of death that is.” She smirked, an angry, tired thing. “I hated myself. I wanted to die. I only kept living for her. And then she died; one of her guards decided they wanted to have a little fun with her, and the next anyone knew, the guard was dead, and my sister had a knife in her liver. I was free in the worst way possible.”

Stunned silence rang throughout the Isles, such that even Lilith herself was rendered speechless. Forcing herself to speak, Lilith asked the next question on her mind, one she felt the Isles would wish to know. “Should we consider this an act of War from the Human Realm?”

Luz blinked. Then, she laughed; a deep, cackling laugh filled with so much loathing and misery it was genuinely astonishing a living being could make such a sound. “No. Or at least, not the way you’re thinking. Oroboros is in no way affiliated with any form of Government or Ruling power. It’s a criminal organization that supports itself alone.” She gave a poisonous smile. “While I have no way of knowing if any Human Governments know about the Isles, I can assure you that none of them were involved in this.”

“Well, that’s something good at least.” Lilith said dryly. “What can you tell us about Oroboros in regards to how it is structured?”

Luz leaned back, gathering her memories on the subject. “Oroboros originally began as a Dark Guild that took jobs that other Dark Guilds shied away from, stuff that was extremely messed up and depraved in what was involved to go about them. When the big three Dark Guilds were dismantled, Oroboros clawed its way to the top of the heap after all the infighting died down. After that, they started breaking down and assimilating other Dark Guilds that they thought might be useful. You actually met one of them out there.” Luz offhandedly mentioned.

“Truly?” Lilith broached.

“Yup.” Luz nodded. “Before they became the Black Dog Squadron, the Squad was originally a guild in its own right, Barghast. Barghast was a mercenary guild at first, selling the services of its members as soldiers and fighters to the highest bidder, with an emphasis on fighting in wars. But when the local groups started fighting less, Barghast decided it would be better to start the wars they fought, and sell their services to both sides to keep the conflict going longer.” Luz smiled at that. It was not a nice smile. “When their little scheme came to light, they were branded a Dark Guild and went on the run, before being absorbed into Oroboros.”

Luz leaned forward. “Oroboros likes to present itself as one big unit, and while it can act like one in the field, Oroboros is full of splintered factions and units. The Black Dog Squadron is one of the neutral factions, actually; they don’t care which faction is using them, just as long as they can cause as much suffering and bloodshed as possible. I was an unaligned member, mostly because none of the Squadrons trusted a conscript like me not to stab them in the back, so I didn’t really work with any of the Factions or Squads outside of being paired with them for missions. My jobs were assassinations, thefts, and… less savory things.” Luz admitted, eyes downcast. Tears pooled in her eyes, dripping onto the table.

Lilith pursed her lips, feeling unwilling to judge the girl for compromising herself in the name of her loved ones; if anything, she was impressed the girl had the sense of self not to justify the atrocities she had done as anything other than what they were, a means of sparing the life of her loved one at the expense of others, and felt remorse over having done so. Still, she had two pressing questions to ask. “I must ask, you keep referencing Oroboros as a Dark Guild. Just what is a Guild?”

Luz slumped, feeling spent from the roller-coaster of loathing that always came when she thought about… all she had done. “Guilds are the Human Version of your Coven System, if far less restrictive. I won’t go too far into it, that would take way too much time, but Dark Guilds are essentially guilds that flout the laws that govern what Guilds can and cannot do, and actively have their members engage in crimes. If I had to give a close equivalent, Dark Guilds are basically for us what an Assassin Coven or Thief Coven would be for you. An organized effort to commit crime with little to no regard for who would be hurt as a result.”

Lilith felt a chill run up her spine at the thought. The idea of the Coven System being twisted like that, perverted into a warped, criminal mirror of itself, made her shudder; the implications of what such a thing could do, producing criminals whose magic was specialized to enabling criminal acts… it was a horrifying thought. Lilith swallowed, before jumping into her last question. “I thank you for agreeing to this; some of what you’ve revealed could not have been easy for you. But… I must ask you this; can we count on you to aid us against Oroboros?” She peered forth, unknowingly mimicking the apprehension of many of the citizens watching.

Luz gave her a smoldering glare. “You don’t have anything to worry about. I’ve already seen enough misery because of Oroboros. I won’t let them do as they please anymore, not while I can do something about it.” Luz paused, a thought coming to mind. “Huh, this reminds me of something my teacher said while I was training.”

Lilith raised any eyebrow. “Oh?”

Luz gave Lilith a soft, tired smile. “Yeah.” She reached up, rolling back her sleeve; Lilith recoiled at the sight. From her elbow to her shoulder, Luz’s arm was a maze of scar tissue, deep gouges and rents woven through the veil of poorly healed flesh; the fact she could use her arm without issue was awe-inspiring, when one considered the pain she must feel every day from such an injury. “I got this when I first tried using my Magic in a combat situation. I was fighting a monster that was bothering some of the fields near the village I was staying at during my training. I had barely been training for a week, having only just barely made a proper spell for the first time less than a day ago. The monster dashed me against a cliff, driving my arm so deep against the stone that it started scraping bone. If my teacher hadn’t intervened, it would’ve eaten me.” She turned to Lilith, sober eyes burning with shame. “I was an idiot. My teacher made sure I remembered that. What they said to me that day, I’ll never forget.” Luz leaned back, before reciting something with the air of quotation. “‘Magic is an unreasonable force. It is wondrous and horrific. It cares nothing for good or evil, or the intentions of those who use it. If you wish to put your skills to such a task as fighting for truth and justice, grow strong. Otherwise, you’ll never be anything more than prey for those with less moral compunctions than you.’” Luz gazed fondly at the ceiling, tears pooling at the memory. “Ever since that day, I swore I would never let myself be too weak to stand up for myself, or what I believe in. I would be strong enough that I could protect others, but also to protect myself.” She gave a chuckle. “Things didn’t work out too well for that promise.”

Lilith just looked on with pity, before turning to Perry. “I think that would be a good point to end the interview. At least for today.”

“Indeed.” Perry nodded. “Well then, you heard it here first, Citizens.-”

“What are you doing?” Lilith queried.

Perry blinked. “I’m… ending the broadcast.”

Lilith shook her head. “Not yet. I still have one thing left to do.” She beckoned her sister forth, who had been silently looking on as the interview went on. Eda’s mind was brimming with questions for Luz, but she was willing to put it aside for when they got back home. For now, she had her sister to deal with. Lilith gazed upon her sister, an unreadable look in her eye. “Earlier, when you defeated me in a Witch’s Duel, your request for your win was that I would tell the truth about your curse to the public, dispelling the official story. We even swore an unbreakable vow over it.” She held up her arm for emphasis, her arm flashing with a white ring. An ominous smile graced her features. “Well, I do believe a live broadcast all across the Isles is certainly public, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yeah, it is. And I’m glad you’re not putting it off, I am! But… are you feeling okay sis? You seem a little out of it.” Eda asked, genuine concern coloring her voice. The hysterical laugh Lilith gave just added to that concern.

“Oh Edalyn, if you only knew.” She said, wiping away a tear from her outburst, before sobering. “But then, I suppose you will in a moment.” Turning to the broadcast, Lilith braced herself, fully willing to bear the backlash her actions would cause against herself and the Coven from this. “Citizens of the Isles, I, Coven Head Lilith Clawthorne, stand before you to reveal a bitter truth. For years, the story of the Owl Lady has been told, how her defiance and dismissal of the Coven System was punished by the Titan. That story… it is a lie.” She bluntly stated, almost feeling the gasps rippling through the Isles. “The Emperor’s Coven itself has no knowledge of how Edalyn was cursed, but it was most certainly no work of the Titan, or its will.” A mysterious smile, almost beatific were it not so filled with pain, crossed her features. “The one responsible for Eda Clawthorne’s curse was a witch. Specifically… the one responsible was myself.” Lilith felt more than saw Eda freeze up beside her. She could see it now on Perry’s own face, the look of horror, accusation, dumbfounded shock. 

Lilith turned to Eda, feeling an almost spiteful glee at the look of horror, denial, and hurt that crossed her features. “Y-your lying, Lily. You-” Eda stuttered (Edalyn stuttered!), denial and shock filling her voice. Lilith slowly stroked Eda’s cheek, an almost tender gesture.

“Edalyn, we both know that, for all your hatred of the rules and authority, you are far smarter than this. You know I can’t be lying.” Lilith said, just barely loud enough for the broadcast to pick up. “Think about it, you’ve surely pieced it together after all this time. Who else could’ve gotten into your room to curse you? Who else would’ve had reason to curse you?” Eda shook her head, denial still burned across her features, backing away from Lilith.

“Why?” Eda hissed out, forcing it through the denial. “Why would you do this!? To me!? TO YOUR FAMILY!?!?” She screamed, hurt and rage finally making themselves known in full.

Lilith chuckled, the same bitter, empty laugh Luz herself had used previously when discussing her failings. “Because you were going to win, dear sister!” Lilith cried, almost relishing the horror on Eda’s face, were it not for how sick she felt at it all. “We were set to fight for a place in the Emperor’s Coven, and you would win!! I knew you would!! You were the prodigy, the gifted genius that everything came so easily to when you bothered to try, the powerhouse who could already level buildings at the age of TWELVE!!!” Lilith felt the tears coming, the bitter, hot tears of her own weakness surging forth. “I was the one who wanted to serve the Isles, I was the one who wanted to help people!!!! You only cared about joining the Coven so you wouldn’t have to give up any magic! So why should I have given up my dream, my future, for you!?”

“I ONLY WANTED TO BE PART OF THE COVEN TO SUPPORT YOU!!!” Eda cried, her own angry, hurt-filled tears flowing. “All I wanted was to support you, to give you the future you deserved!!” She shook her head, anger and shame filling her heart.

“I KNOW!!” Lilith shrieked. “I Knew it then, and I know it now!!” The tears were like waterfalls now, bitter pain coating her every word. “But I couldn’t accept it, the idea that you, someone who so effortlessly and deliberately flouted the rules, would have what I wanted, what I dreamed of! How could I have known that you would forfeit, how could anyone!? A position in the most prestigious and influential of covens, and you throwing it away for me!?” She shook her head. “No. I didn’t believe you could be that selfless.”

Eda gave a bitter snort. “And I didn’t believe you could be that selfish. I guess we were both surprised.” Not staying to hear another word, Eda grabbed Luz, who wordlessly followed her, and stormed off. Luz shot Lilith a look of empty disappointment. It was exactly what Lilith deserved.

Lilith turned to the still running broadcast, a blank smile on her face. “And you’ve heard it here first, folks.” Lilith mockingly imitated the standard reporter line. “The Enforcer of the Emperor’s Will is a cheat, scum who would betray her own family, and a fraud. What a shocking revelation, is it not?” She wandered off, tears still streaming. Perry wordlessly cut the broadcast. He suddenly felt the need to give his son the biggest hug of all time.

All across the Isles, people were reacting to the horrifying news. Some focusing on some parts over others, of course, but none could deny that the Special Report was on everyone’s minds.

“This is unacceptable!!” Kikimora cried, frantically pacing in front of the Emperor’s Throne, heedless of her standard deference. “How could Coven Head Clawthorne reveal such sensitive information through a broadcast of all things!? Your Highness, this mutiny cannot stand!!” Normally, Kikimora would never be so blatant and emotional in front of her lord, but she felt now, of all times, was the best moment to voice her worries.

“Hmm… it seems I must adjust some of my plans.” Belos murmured. While Lilith publicly revealing the secret she so fervently guarded was certainly a surprise, if anything the revelation of her obsession should make her even more fervent in her future attempts to apprehend her sister. The revelations of Human Realm Magic now infesting his realm… oh he would definitely need to broach this carefully, but his ultimate goal remained unchanged. Wild Magic would be PURGED from the Titan, that was non-negotiable. But the revelation of Human Magic would certainly prove a useful tool for later…

“My lord!?” Kikimora frantically pleaded.

Hunter contemplated the revelations he had just witnessed. Humans were capable of magic, something deemed impossible. If it was possible for them… could it prove possible for himself? Something to think about for later. Right now, he had to attend to his Emperor. He owed the man everything, and this did not change that fact. He would probably have to keep a closer eye on Lilith though,

Alador calmly adjusted the latest adaptation to the Abomiton project, carefully tuning out his wife’s frantic screams and rage. She would burn herself down, if not out, in a little while, and then he would intercede. For the moment, he needed to properly calibrate the Coiled Composition System, truly a marvel really; if it worked properly, even the lowest quality of Abomitons would be a force to be reckoned with.

Odalia slammed herself down across from Alador with a huff, blistering rage burning in her eyes. “Well, at least now we know who our mysterious clients are.” She bit out, forcing herself to calm down with a cup of tea. Alador merely raised an eyebrow. He would see what she said in full, before replying. Odalia chuckled, a nasty, angry sounding thing. “It truly makes sense, you know. Such mysterious customers, wanting such a variety of goods and supplies! And they turned out to be murderous criminals. Fitting.”

“Will we stop supplying them, then?” Alador faux-absentmindedly asked. He had a feeling as to what she would say, but it was still imperative he hear it in truth first.

Odalia snorted. “No. We’ll keep selling to them. We’ll just covertly sabotage the goods we grant them, and use our dealings to pump them for information. Once we’ve gained everything we can, we use the resources we’ve acquired in our dealings to crush them.” Her eyes sharpened. “They endangered our children. Our FAMILY. They will not be allowed to survive for this offense.” Alador gravely nodded. Oroboros had made a crucial mistake already. They’d tried to challenge the Blight family, and harm their children. There would be a reckoning for this sin, of that neither Blight had any doubts.

Raine Whispers was conflicted. On the one hand, they now knew who had cursed Eda, and their heart went out to their old flame about what she must be going through. On the other, more clinically minded hand, the revelation that Humans could wield magic was in itself a massive blow to Belos’ authority, particularly in regards to his edicts on magic and the Titan. It was certainly something to explore for the future. For the moment, they had to get to their meeting. If all went well, they would finally, finally have prospective members willing to step out of the shadows with them. To be honest, that Katya girl had seemed almost too eager to join up, but they would at least give her a chance to step back and explain before making… hasty judgments.

Eda slammed the bottle of Appleblood back, her tears pouring down as fast as the heavy beverage went down her throat. It still hurt. Luz cuddled up to her, lending a comforting presence, King sitting on her lap. Words could wait. The three of them had enough pain to work through. Eda allowed a small smile to cross her features. At least they had each other to share the burden.

#the owl house #owl house au #owl house crossover #fairy tail #fairy tail au #fairy tail crossover #luz noceda #lilith clawthorne #eda clawthorne #perry porter #gus porter #willow park #amity blight #edric blight #emira blight #odalia blight #alador blight #raine whispers #katya the owl house #king the owl house #kikimora the owl house #emperor belos #hunter the owl house #magic

[hysterialevi]

Eitr | Chapter 4

Fanfic summary: In an alternate universe where the Raven Clan is wiped out, Sigurd ends up being rescued by the son of a Saxon ealdorman, and is tasked with being the boy’s new bodyguard. Upon meeting the boy’s father however, Sigurd soon realizes that the ealdorman is responsible for his clan’s destruction, and secretly plans for revenge while hiding behind the guise of a Norse pagan turned Christian.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male OC

Author’s note: Sorry for the longer wait for this chapter guys. I hit a bit of a writer’s block >.< Hope you like it though!

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter

FORANGAL CASTLE

Trudging along behind Algar’s vast strides, Sigurd dragged himself through the castle as he followed the housecarl to the throne room, admittedly struggling to keep up with his brisk pace.

His body was screaming at him to sit down and have a rest somewhere with all the wounds that still littered his flesh, but considering the amount of eyes that were lingering on him at the moment, Sigurd didn’t dare let himself collapse.

All around him, Saxons of every kind stopped dead in their tracks to stare at their peculiar guest as they murmured to each other in nervousness, speculating about what the purpose of his visit could’ve been. Guards and civilians alike followed his every move with a sense of fear sharpening their eyes, and if Sigurd didn’t know any better, he would’ve said that Algar led him down this path on purpose.

There were a dozen different ways to reach the throne room -- many of which were far more discreet -- but given how Sigurd was one breath away from being a walking corpse, it was hardly any surprise that Algar decided to go with the most blatant.

After all, what better chance would he have to humiliate his prisoner? It was a well-known fact that the housecarl shared his ealdorman’s hatred for Danes, and seeing as how Sigurd was practically clothed in nothing except for bandages at the moment, it was the perfect opportunity for Algar to parade him around like a dog on a leash.

Sigurd just hoped he wasn’t being led into a death trap. He could see that this whole ordeal gave the housecarl a malevolent sense of joy, and considering the fact that nearly everyone in the castle hated his kind, he wouldn’t have been surprised if it turned out to be his demise.

“...How does it feel, Norse?” Algar taunted, not even bothering to slow down.

Sigurd gripped his waist, refusing to let the pain hinder him. “Two arrows were fired into my chest and I was thrown into the river -- all after being battered by soldiers. You tell me.”

The housecarl chuckled. “Oh, I wasn’t talking about that.”

Algar gestured at the spectating crowds around them, keeping his voice low so that only Sigurd could hear him.

“I meant, how does it feel, now that all these people have seen you for what you are? A sick, hobbling wretch of a man presented to the world in his God-given form? They’ve heard stories about the Danes, you see. Horrifying tales that speak of the barbaric deeds your people have committed. They fear you. And that fear gives you strength.”

Sigurd pressed a hand against the wall, doing his best to stay upright as the housecarl continued to speak.

“But now... you’re alone. You’ve no clan to protect you, and no shield to hide behind. Your longships lay abandoned on the shores of foreign lands, and these poor souls can finally see you for your true self. A coward.”

The viking ignored Algar’s taunts, not wishing to indulge the man.

“Is that so? And tell me, Saxon, do you goad all your prisoners like this? Or is it just me?”

Algar threw him a glare. “No. When it comes to most Danes in your position, I normally just put a sword through their skull. But for whatever reason, Lord Aegenwulf has taken an interest in you, and so, I shall stay my blade for the moment. But know this -- should you try anything that might endanger the safety of our ealdorman, or the safety of his children, you will wish that we left you in that river to drown.”

Sigurd sped up slightly, walking side-by-side with Algar. “I don’t doubt it.”

“Good. Then follow me, and stay in your place.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A FEW MINUTES LATER

THE THRONE ROOM

Limping towards the doors of the throne room, Sigurd silently trailed behind Algar whilst the gargantuan man headed into the great hall ahead of him, announcing their arrival to the ealdorman.

The viking could feel a tight grip of anxiety growing in his chest as he approached the entrance, and upon stepping into the ominous atmosphere of the main hall, he suddenly felt as if the stone walls were closing in on him like a cage.

It felt more akin to a dungeon than a place of nobility in here. The very foundation of the castle seemed to hold onto its occupants with a suffocating clutch, and as Algar delved further into the lion’s den, Sigurd spotted the ealdorman himself sitting at the end of the hall.

At the moment, Lord Aegenwulf was currently slouching in his throne as if the burdens of his position physically weighed him down, and the grim expression on his face did little to help.

His eyes reflected the sullen climate of the throne room like a shattered mirror, and just based on the manner in which his gaze snapped onto Algar, the viking assumed that the man was not pleased about this unexpected turn of events.

“Lord Aegenwulf,” Algar called, kneeling respectfully before him. “I bring the Norse you wished to see.”

The ealdorman exchanged a quick glance with one of the men standing at his side -- most-likely another lord, based on his attire -- and beckoned the housecarl with a simple flick of the hand.

“Show him to me.” He commanded.

Algar instantly rose to his feet and stormed over to Sigurd, grabbing the Norse by the back of the neck before hurling him to the floor.

A pained hiss escaped Sigurd’s lips upon hitting the ground, and without even looking down at his body, the man already knew he had reopened one of his wounds.

“Here he is, my lord.” Algar presented.

Glancing upwards from his position, Sigurd observed Aegenwulf with a newfound interest as the ealdorman did the same, both of them silently examining the other.

Aegenwulf was a lean, middle-aged man with a head of grey hair that sat just above his shoulders, and had a long goatee adorning his chin. His expression was crippled with a prominent touch of remorse, and in the darkness that clung onto his piercing glare, Sigurd could detect an intense hatred burning within him like a fire that was just beginning to ignite.

As for the subjects surrounding him, Sigurd also spotted a younger-looking man standing beside Aegenwulf’s throne, quietly watching the scene unfold. The young man had a head of brown hair that was shaved in a way similar to that of Joseph’s, and judging by the striking resemblance between him and the ealdorman, Sigurd assumed he must’ve been his son.

“So...” Aegenwulf began, watching the viking with the eyes of a hawk, “you are the man whom my children rescued. I’ve heard much about you since your... fortuitous arrival. You’ve caused quite a stir in Forangal with your presence.” He paused for a moment. “...What is your name, Norse?”

Sigurd mindlessly kept his gaze on the ealdorman’s son, unable to deny that he was somewhat captivated by the man.

“...Sigurd.”

Aegenwulf fidgeted with the ornament on the throne’s armrest, furrowing his brow in thought.

“Sigurd...” he repeated. “And tell me, Sigurd, of which clan do you hail?”

The Norse fell silent, hesitant to answer the question. He did not know whether or not the ealdorman was aware of his true identity, but considering what Edlynne told him earlier about the death of her brother, he decided it would be best to keep his clan a secret for the time being.

“I... don’t have a clan.” He settled with. Aegenwulf eyed him skeptically.

“A lone Norse wandering a hostile kingdom without a clan? Odd. How long have you been alone?”

“For many years now, my lord. It’s what I’ve always done.”

Aegenwulf traced the side of his temple with a finger, barely shifting his expression. “...I see. And what brought you to Wedenscire? What business have you in these lands?”

“I did not come here by choice. I was ambushed by soldiers and thrown into the river. The water’s current carried me to Agenbury. There, a man found me washed up on the shore, and then your children brought me to this castle.”

The ealdorman processed the viking’s claims and leaned forward in his seat, holding Sigurd in suspense as he pondered his next words.

“Well, Sigurd... regardless of who you are, or whatever your intentions may be, I must admit that I am intrigued by you. You appear to be no different from your pagan brethren, and yet... it is clear to me that there is something unique about you. After all, it is rare for a Norse to offer candor to a Saxon.”

Sigurd perked his head up in curiosity. “Candor? How could you know--”

“--Your story matches the one my son told me.” Aegenwulf explained, gesturing to the young man. “We spoke long before you arrived. Edric was the one who brought you to our healer.”

Sigurd glanced at the young man, wary about where this was going.

“You saved me?”

Edric’s tone remained firm. “At my siblings’ request, yes. But do not mistake my mercy for friendship. I’m not in the habit of saving stray Danes.”

“I see.”

The viking turned back to Aegenwulf, eager to get this over with.

“And you, my lord? Do you share his views? Have you summoned me here for a simple conversation, or do you intend to execute me?”

Aegenwulf leaned back in his throne, his demeanor calm as always.

“Neither. I was going to send you to the headsman’s axe initially, but after much thought and consideration... my son has persuaded me that, perhaps, you would be more useful to me alive than dead.”

Algar shifted a brow at that. “Ealdorman?”

“Hush, Algar,” the older man urged, picking up on his housecarl’s disapproval. “This decision was not easily made, but I believe it is the wisest course of action, given the alternative outcomes.”

Aegenwulf brought his attention back to Sigurd, explaining his plan.

“Listen to me carefully, Sigurd the Lone Wolf. I have brought you here for one reason, and one reason alone. From this day forth, you are not to be regarded as an enemy in this hall, but instead, as an asset. You will be indentured to me.”

The ealdorman pointed a finger at the viking, giving him a single command.

“You will be responsible for protecting my children. You will act as their personal bodyguard, and defend them with your life. Your job will be to eliminate any threats that should endanger them -- including your own people. No matter the cost.”

Sigurd found himself at a loss for words. Was Aegenwulf being serious? Or was this simply a test of some sort? Surely, he would not place this much faith in a stranger, let alone a Norse. After all, he had just lost one of his own children to their people.

“...Me?” He questioned, baffled by the situation. “Why me? Why not choose somebody else?”

“Because you are the one my son saved,” Aegenwulf answered. “A tremendous amount of effort has gone into keeping you afloat these past two days, and there’s also the fact that our healer, Linette, used a decent portion of her resources to nurse you back to health.”

He tilted his head at Sigurd.

“I believe it is only fair that you repay them for their compassion, wouldn’t you agree? You may not be able to pay them back in silver, but I have heard of the tenacity of Norse warriors. It would be a waste to throw your battle prowess away.”

Algar stepped forward, incredulous about the decision. “My lord, I must protest! This man is a Norse; a viking! He is a man of the enemy, and cannot be trusted. It would be foolish to place your children’s lives in the hands of this pagan!”

Aegenwulf gave him a cautionary glare. “Are you implying that I am foolish, housecarl?”

“N-No, of course not, ealdorman. But I do not think it would be wise to entrust this man with the safety of our people! He is--”

“--Well, fortunately, it’s not your decision to make.” Aegenwulf interrupted. “My children claim that this man can be trusted, so let him prove it. He knows the consequences that will arise should he fail, and I am confident that he will do everything he can to ensure that that doesn’t happen...” He glanced at Sigurd. “...Right?”

Sigurd nodded hesitantly, still taken aback by this path he had suddenly been thrown on. “O-Of course, my lord.”

“Good. Then we have nothing more to discuss.”

Aegenwulf looked at his son, instructing the young man to come forth.

“Edric, take Sigurd to the armory. It will be a while before he’s able to recover, but I want his equipment to be prepared in the meantime.”

“...Yes, father.” Edric replied in a cross tone. “As you wish.”

The young man stepped away from his position at the throne and descended the small stairs that led up to it, beckoning Sigurd to follow him with a simple jerk of the head.

“Come along then, Norse. And don’t fall behind.”

Watching Edric storm off, Sigurd slowly stood up from the floor and rose back to his feet, careful not to reopen any other wounds. Meanwhile, Aegenwulf remained seated in his throne, uttering one last phrase before dismissing the viking.

“Remember, Sigurd, we are all watching you. I may have spared your life for today, but if I so much as suspect that you have betrayed my trust, I will bring unto you a retribution so fierce that it will shake you even in death.”

Sigurd nodded assuredly at Aegenwulf. “...I understand, my lord.”

“Very well. Then be off with you. My son awaits you in the armory, and I expect you to take up your duties as soon as you are able. Until then, may you walk with God.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A WHILE LATER

THE ARMORY

Following Edric down the lengthy corridor, Sigurd found himself feeling much more relieved now that he was out of Algar’s reach and away from the throne room’s premises, leaving him with a brief sense of peace.

The ealdorman’s son didn’t appear to be any more thrilled than the housecarl to have a new Norse roaming around their halls, but at the very least, he didn’t show any intentions of driving a blade through his heart either.

Though, Sigurd had to admit, he was curious about the young man’s true motivations. It was quite obvious that he held no love for the Danes or their people, and even though he claimed to have saved Sigurd at the behest of his siblings, the viking still had to wonder if that was truly the case.

After all, was it really enough to convince someone to risk their safety purely based on their family’s wishes alone? Regardless of how much Edric may have loved Joseph and Edlynne, the truth of the matter was -- they were at war.

There was no love to be found between Saxons and Danes -- especially in this shire -- and despite the honorable demeanor Sigurd may have carried, the young man really had no reason to trust him. He was still a complete stranger in the man’s eyes, and so the fact that Edric went out of his way to convince his father to spare Sigurd only made the viking more confused.

“So...” Edric suddenly said, pulling the other man from his thoughts, “you’re Sigurd. You were in quite a state the last time I saw you. Part of me was convinced you wouldn’t wake up.”

Sigurd caught onto his tone. “Disappointed that I did?”

“Let’s just say that Danes aren’t exactly reputable around here. They’ve brought much pain to our lands, and so far, I have no reason to believe you won’t do the same.”

The viking couldn’t help but throw back a humorous retort. “Well, good thing I’m a Norse, then.”

Edric sighed in annoyance. “Norse, Dane -- it makes no difference. You’re all pagans in my eyes. My father may have entrusted you with my life, but that does not mean I’m willing to hand it over.”

“You know, for someone who went through the trouble of rescuing me, you don’t seem too enthusiastic to have me around.”

“And why should I be? My siblings may pray for your recovery, but that is only because they are naive to the horrors of this war. They have not seen the cruelty of your people, nor what they did to our brother.”

Sigurd switched to a more serious tone. “...Yes, Edlynne told me about Gareth.”

Edric glanced at him. “Did she? I suppose I’m not surprised. She seems to be drawn to you. But what she says is true. Gareth was killed about a month ago. Near Grantebridge. It happened during an assault. The Danes just... cut him down like some sort of animal. We received word about it a week later.”

The viking’s expression sank with empathy. “Do you know who’s responsible for his death?”

The man glowered in anger. “We do, actually. According to Algar’s scouts, it was the Raven Clan who brought his life to an end.”

Sigurd shook his head in disbelief. “...Are you certain? I have crossed paths with the Raven Clan before, and I can assure you, they are not the type to display such unnecessary cruelty. They have always been men and women of honor.”

Edric scoffed. “Your people and mine have very different definitions of honor, Sigurd. We consider mercy and justice to be honorable traits. Your people would sacrifice a defenseless man to one of their gods all in the name of war.”

The ealdorman’s son decided to drop the subject and ended the conversation with a huff, making haste to their destination.

“But enough of that. We’ve reached the armory. You can find gear for yourself in here.”

Swinging open the iron-braced door, Edric stepped aside and allowed Sigurd to go in first, revealing a room full of valuable equipment.

All around him, there were racks decorated with a wide variety of swords, shields, axes, flails -- and in the center of the room, there stood an impressive array of armored models, glimmering in the light like a shining mirror.

“Have a look around,” Edric said, leaning against a wall. “I doubt any of this armor will actually fit a man of your stature, but when you find something you like, we’ll take it to our blacksmith and have him adjust it for you. Be mindful, though. Some of it is heavier than it looks.”

Walking up to one of the armor displays, Sigurd took a moment to examine its durability and leaned closer to the outfit, meticulously observing its components.

The first layer was made up of a suit of chainmail that draped over the entire body and had a light gambeson to pad it underneath, similar to the one Edric wore. It was protected by a sturdy shell of plate armor that covered all the limbs, and had a full helm sitting atop its shoulders.

A fashionable cape bearing the sigil of Aegenwulf’s house hung from the pauldrons, and upon further inspection, Sigurd noticed that extra care had been put into making sure there were very few weak points for a blade to sneak in.

It was very impressive in its design, but despite its resistant nature and ability to block out any attacks, Sigurd couldn’t help but note how unbearably dense it was.

The multiple layers of armor made it almost impossible for its wearer to move around freely, and just based on how much it seemed to strain the model that it currently rested on, Sigurd assumed it would’ve been more of a burden than a benefit.

“Do you have anything lighter than this?” He asked Edric, gesturing to the suit.

The young man shook his head. “That is the light armor. You want something heavy, you should take a look at what Algar is wearing.”

Sigurd tapped his knuckles against the armor’s chest, emitting a metallic clang. “This is the light armor? How can anyone fight while wearing this? It’s far too restrictive.”

Edric walked next to Sigurd, observing the display with him.

“Well, it’s made out of metal. Of course it’s going to be heavy. I’m not sure what your warriors wear, but this is what our soldiers have always used.”

The viking crossed his arms, throwing yet another humorous reply at him. “Hmm. Well, as thick as your armor is, I’m afraid it hinders you. Much like your own skull.”

The Saxon grew irritated. “Look, just pick something, alright? If you are to be my guardian, I’d sleep far better at night knowing you were properly equipped for the job. You can’t bloody well fight in your loins.”

Sigurd grinned. “...Is that a challenge?”

Edric sighed deeply. “Lord grant me patience. I’m going to regret this.”

The Norse let out a soft chuckle, amused at the nobleman’s vexed mood. Before he could carry on with his search though, a sudden thought appeared in his mind, providing him with a possible compromise.

“What about my old armor? Do you still have it?”

“You mean the one you were wearing when we fetched you out the river? I believe so, but most of it has been ruined. The only parts of it you could salvage would probably be the tunic and the cloak.”

Sigurd was satisfied with that. “Then it will be enough. I can use the the tunic instead of the gambeson. It will be less protection, but I’ll be able to move faster.”

Edric shrugged in defeat. “Very well. Whatever works for you. Just make sure you’re able to fight at your best. I can defend myself well enough, but it’s my siblings that I fear for.”

The viking began removing the armor from the display. “Have no fear, my lord. Joseph and Edlynne went to great lengths to save me. I won’t allow any harm to come to them.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Edric strode over to the armory’s entrance, saying one last thing before taking his leave.

“I’ll find Linette and ask her where she’s keeping your old gear. In the meantime, you focus on bringing that armor to our blacksmith. He’ll make sure it fits you to the bone, and can possibly even find you a new weapon to wield. Just be quick about it.”

Sigurd nodded. “Understood. Oh, and one more thing, my lord?”

The young man glanced at him. “Yes? What is it?”

He softened his voice. “...Thank you. For convincing your father to spare me.”

Edric turned away from Sigurd, reluctant to open up to the man. “I did not save you out of kindness, Norse. Do not forget that. You are simply an asset to my father. No more, no less.”

The viking smiled in return. “Still, I owe you my life. Even if your motivations were not the most... noble, you have done more than most Saxons would. And I thank you for that.”

Edric pretended to brush off Sigurd’s remarks, but the Norse could tell he was appreciative.

“Well, just make sure you do your part. My father is taking a great risk trusting you like this, and I would not see it be in vain.”

~~~~~~~~~~

THAT NIGHT

SIGURD’S QUARTERS

Standing in the midst of his new quarters, Sigurd rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck as he adjusted to his suit of armor, trying to get a feel for its limitations.

The armor was far heavier than the one he used to wear during his time with the Raven Clan, but unfortunately for the viking, his Saxon friends seemed to value protection over agility, and thus, he had been forced to settle for this shell of metal.

It would take some time for Sigurd to adapt to its hefty design, what with all the plates of iron that now sat on his limbs, but luckily, not all of it was Saxon craftsmanship.

Beneath the layer of chainmail, Sigurd wore the same tunic that he always adorned back when he still had his Dane armor, and instead of keeping the cape that once hung from the pauldrons, he had substituted the accessory with his signature fur cloak, allowing him to walk freely without fear of tangling a cape between his legs.

It wasn’t exactly the type of protection that Sigurd would’ve normally settled for, but considering the alternative options he saw in the armory, he supposed it was the best he was going to get for now.

Strolling over to his bed, Sigurd took a seat on the edge and let himself rest for a moment, finally giving his wounds the chance they needed to heal. It had been a long day of running around all over the castle and tending to his duties, but even with everything that had happened already, the viking still found himself unable to comprehend his new reality.

Just this morning, he had been a prisoner of Aegenwulf and awaited his possible execution in the throne room, wondering if he’d even live long enough to see the sunset.

Everyone in this castle regarded him as nothing more than a lapdog for the ealdorman, and thanks to all the secrecy that surrounded his presence, a plethora of rumors had sparked amongst the pandemonium, causing people to grow even more fearful of him.

But now... here he was, a personal bodyguard for the ealdorman’s children, and sitting in his own chambers. He had been given a chance to start a new life, and possibly, even find out what happened to the rest of his clan.

It was the stuff of sagas, Sigurd thought, to go through what he had endured. Part of him wondered if this was all some dream and if he was still floating in the river, but if this was the path that the Nornir had lain out before him, Sigurd had no intentions of fighting against it.

He truly believed that everyone was tied into a certain fate, after all, and he could not deny that he was curious to see where his led to.

Breaking him out of his thoughts, an unexpected knock suddenly emitted from the door, leading Sigurd to gaze in its direction. 

“One moment.” He said, pushing himself up from the bed.

Walking over to the entrance, Sigurd pulled the door open and immediately felt his heart tighten with worry as he laid eyes on his guest, finding none other than Algar himself standing on the other side.

“Good evening, my lord.” The housecarl greeted with a malicious grin. “Hope I’m not disturbing you.”

Sigurd’s tone flattened with frustration. “What is it you want, Algar? Is there something you need from me? Or have you come to taunt me more?”

Algar shook his head. “Oh, no. Nothing like that. I simply came to make sure that your new quarters are to your liking.”

The viking crossed his arms. “So I see. And what’s the real reason?”

The other man laughed. “Distrustful one, aren’t you? Can a man not take care of his friends without arousing suspicion anymore? I only wish to see how well you fare. After all, I’m certain that these chambers must dim in comparison to the quarters you once had.”

Sigurd furrowed his brow. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, you were a jarl, were you not? Before you came to Wedenscire?”

The Norse fell silent at that, suddenly feeling a sense of alarm. What exactly was going on here?

Algar chuckled at Sigurd’s concerned expression and stepped closer to the man, prowling towards him like a beast.

“...Oh, yes. I know who you are, son of Styrbjorn. I must admit, you took me by surprise when I first saw you in Linette’s infirmary. I was certain my men had finished you off back in Ravensthorpe... but it appears I was not nearly as thorough as I thought.”

Sigurd glared at Algar with the gaze of a lion, clenching his jaw in anger.

“...You?” He whispered vehemently, his eyes widened with shock. “You were the one who destroyed my home...?”

The housecarl nodded casually. “Indeed. Under Aegenwulf’s command. He sought vengeance after the death of his son, you see, and I was more than willing to help. It took me quite a while to track your clan down and devise an assault, but once everything was in place, your village burned like firewood. Even your own brother could not defend his people.”

Sigurd stared at Algar directly in the eye, his gaze practically piercing through the man’s skull.

“What did you do to Eivor?”

Algar smiled widely, revealing a row of yellow-tinted teeth. “...Only what he deserved.”

The housecarl reached into his pouch and pulled out a specific item, presenting it to Sigurd in his palm. The item appeared to be a small blade decorated with golden plating and green jewels, and--

...Wait.

Sigurd froze in horror.

No. It couldn’t be. Was that...?

“Your brother’s most prized possession,” Algar explained. “A concealed blade that we tore from his wrist after he died. The weapon was damaged in our little scuffle, but I decided to keep it nonetheless. ‘Tis a thing of beauty, after all.”

Sigurd suddenly felt a newfound rage kindling inside him and lurched at the housecarl, causing the other man to pin him against the wall.

“Now, now...” Algar taunted, restraining the viking’s wrists in his grasp, “let’s not do anything foolish, shall we?”

Sigurd struggled relentlessly in his hold, completely forgetting about his injuries now. “I’ll gut you, you argr dog...!”

The Saxon smirked. “I wouldn’t recommend that, not after Aegenwulf has placed so much trust in you. You’re quite fortunate, you know? I tried to inform him of your true identity back in the throne room, but it seems his halfwitted son got into his ear before I could.”

“Then why not tell him now?” Sigurd growled. “Why waste your time tormenting me?”

“Because regardless of our disagreements, Aegenwulf is right about one thing. You are clearly much stronger than you look. Most Saxons would consider the Wolf-Kissed to be the best warrior in your clan, and yet, you managed to survive where he could not. You evaded death against all odds, and found a place amongst our nobility, despite being a Norse. You are a warrior in a world of weaklings, and it would be foolish to waste your skills.”

Algar leaned forward, twisting Sigurd’s arm in his grip. “But do not mistake my compliance for absolution. If you step even a toe out of line, you can be certain that Aegenwulf will be informed of who you really are.”

He threw Sigurd to the ground, looming over him like a shadow.

“What happens now depends entirely on you, Sigurd. You can either follow Aegenwulf’s orders like a good little boy and live your life as the Lone Wolf, or pursue this pointless quest for revenge and die as the jarl who failed to protect his people. The decision is yours. Choose wisely.”

Leaving the viking alone with his thoughts, Algar stomped out of the room and slammed the door shut behind him, causing a loud thud to echo throughout the chamber as the torches flickered in the wind.

Meanwhile, Sigurd remained fallen on the floor like a discarded corpse and clenched his fists in agony, completely devastated by the news he just heard.

There was no way Eivor could be dead. Not like this.

Eivor was strong; stronger than any of them. He always carried the favor of the gods ever since he was a child, and achieved the impossible as if it were nothing.

Sigurd refused to believe that a battered, old hound such as Algar himself could defeat him. He must’ve been mistaken.

Sigurd survived the ambush in Ravensthorpe, so why couldn’t he?

Until he saw Eivor’s corpse with his own two eyes, the viking promised himself that he wouldn’t give up on the man, no matter how daunting the path ahead may have seemed. There was more to this than Algar was letting on, and Sigurd intended to dig up the full truth -- even if it would cost him his life.

He would have to play along with Aegenwulf’s plans for now, for the sake of staying alive. But when the time came, Sigurd would overcome this obstacle that the gods had placed in front of him, and reclaim his honor as a drengr worthy of Valhalla’s halls.

It was what Eivor would’ve wanted for him, Sigurd assumed. The Wolf-Kissed was a warrior of legendary renown, and if what Algar said really was the truth, then Sigurd did not wish for his brother to roam the fields of Fólkvangr alone.

It was the only fate acceptable for a bloodline such as his, and he did not intend to let it slip by.

#assassin's creed valhalla #ac valhalla #sigurd styrbjornson #male oc #female oc #sigurd x male oc #ac valhalla fanfic #eitr

[star-and-the-motherverse]

Chapter 1 - Mother’s Wisdom

The Butterfly Who Lost Her Wings

Word Count: 4501 | AO3 Mirror | Next

Summary: It was on that fateful day when Star Butterfly, the princess of Mewni, disappeared. Mewni was left broken, grieving, and lost. Queen Moon, despairing and left at her lowest point, decided that she would not rest until her daughter was freed, no matter what it cost her.

✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:* ♦ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

If only her daughter had listened to her, then maybe, just maybe, this situation would never have befallen them.

Oh, who was Moon kidding? It was unfair to blame Star for all of this. If anything, she was just like her mother, pulling practically the same scheme that Moon had when she was her age. She was proud of Star, in a strange way, for taking the matter into her own hands and attempting to fix the problem as best as she could. But only now was Moon in a position to finally recognize how dangerous the situation was.

“Star!”

Her daughter was on an adjacent balcony, standing beside Ludo. She wasn’t that far away at all, and yet, it felt as if the distance between them was far greater than it had any right to be. At the sight of her daughter, Moon’s fear subsided significantly, but she could not shake the feeling of dread that was heavy in the air. Marco and Yvgeny stood next to the queen, confused by the situation presented before them. They probably felt very much out of their element, being thrown into a situation as dire as this.

Star turned to meet their gazes, offering a sad, little smile. Maybe she already knew how her mother felt about all this. “Hey, Mom. Hi, Marco.”

Moon wanted to ask what was wrong, but it clicked into place when a ghostly unicorn escaped from the wand embedded in Ludo’s hand. Her blood turned to ice. No, she wouldn’t have… The half of the star insignia had darkened to an ominous black, confirming Moon’s fears.

“I, uh…” Star’s eyes darted away, as if she knew the consequences of what she had done just as well as Moon did. “I’m sorry, you guys.” The ghostly figure of the millhorse let out a defeated whinny before disappearing into the sky.

“Is she okay?” Yvgeny asked aloud, not to anyone in particular. “What does that mean? Is, is that...”

Marco attempted to answer him, but his voice quickly trailed off. “It’s…”

Tears immediately began to pool in the corners of Moon’s eyes as panic set in. “The... the Whispering Spell…” She slammed her fists down on the railing in front of her, as if it was going to give her some kind of ability to stop this from happening. But she knew just as well as Star did that what had been set in motion could not be interrupted. “No! Star! You... you get away! You run away from there!”

Star’s voice was quiet, but firm. “It's too late, Mom.”

Marco moved forward to stand beside Moon, his hands gripping onto the stone railing in an effort to ground himself. “She’s… why isn’t she running? Why is she just…”

Something must have clicked in Yvgeny’s mind, because he suddenly blurted out, “What?!” and took several quick steps backwards, away from the impending destruction. “Why she use that spell again?!”

Moon was too overwhelmed with horror to wonder how or why either of them would know what the spell was capable of. She was frozen to the spot, her mind, heart and body all at war with each other. She wanted to rush over there and do something, but what could she even hope to do?

Ludo said something to Star excitedly, but Moon was unable to hear him over the wind. The two of them exchanged some words. Star’s gaze never strayed from the wand, her lips pressing together into a thin, contemplative line.

“No!” Moon screamed as the spell began its work. A fiercely bright pillar of green magic shot out of the wand and into the sky, crackling and snapping viciously. There was a sickening moment of silence as the wand imploded before an explosion shook the castle, taking down the entire tower with it. The three of them could only watch in horror as it fell apart and collapsed into a spray of dust and debris.

“N-no, no no no NO!” Moon’s shoulders began to tremble violently, out of fear for her daughter’s life. “Buff Frog, we have to go now!”

Yvgeny, despite his dread, grunted in acknowledgement and scooped both her and Marco up in his arms, jumping down to the crater below. Moon tore through the rubble recklessly, overturning chunks of rock and sheets of stone. A wave of anger washed over her as she found an unconscious Ludo, however irrational those feelings might have been. Now that she knew Toffee was involved in this mess somehow—she should have known better than to assume that he’d finally left her and her family alone—it was impossible to place blame in this situation.

She never should have left Ludo alone once she found out he had the other half of the wand. If she had acted sooner, there was the chance that she could have prevented all of this. She felt so lost without the High Commission on her side, but she knew there was nothing she could do about it in the given moment. Her daughter was her one and only priority right now.

“Where's Star?” Moon barked out, picking up the small monster by his shoulders and shaking him. His eyes opened, but they were glassy and difficult to read. Was that the faintest tinge of pink light she could see in them? “Where is my daughter?!”

How peculiar it was, that it wasn’t Ludo’s voice she heard when he responded. No, it was far more familiar than that. “Mom! Mom, Mom! I'm in here!”

“Star? Is that you?” She wasn’t exactly sure how Star had ended up inside of Ludo’s consciousness—was the inside of the wand and his mind connected somehow?—but the fact of the matter was that she was okay, and that was all that Moon could hope for.

“Yes, yes, it's me!” The relief was prominent in her daughter’s voice, as if she had shared the same fears as her mother.

“Oh, thank goodness!” Moon hugged the kappa tightly. She understood that her daughter might not even be able to recognize the gesture, but she made the effort nonetheless. Behind her, she heard both Marco and Yvgeny let out sighs of relief. They came up on either side of her and looked over Ludo curiously, equally surprised and puzzled by this new development.

“This is very strange…” Yvgeny commented. As comforting as it was to know that Star was still here, it didn’t make it any less disorienting to hear her voice coming out of Ludo.

Marco leaned forwards to better center himself in Ludo’s field of vision. “C-can you see us?”

“Yeah, Marco, I can! Y-you guys didn’t get hurt, did you? You’re all okay?”

“I assure you, we’re fine,” Moon answered for them. “Are you? Where are you?”

Her daughter’s voice was shaky and uncertain. “Well, I-I'm totally fine, but, uh... I don't exactly know where I am.”

“That's okay, sweetie,” Moon assured, hoping that her words could comfort her in some way. “The important thing is that you're safe. Just stay right there. And no matter what, we will find you!”

“Mom? M—yeah, c—“ Her voice was beginning to break up, to Moon’s dismay. “Can y—re—t-tha—“ Ludo’s eyes closed as her voice faded away.

Just as quickly as the brief period of relief had appeared, it was gone, leaving her unnerved and frightened. _No no no, come back to me! Please! _“Star? Are you still there?" She shook Ludo again, a bit more aggressively than she intended, hoping to somehow reconnect to her daughter.

Ludo’s eyes opened again, but this time, the light behind them was a sickly, ominous green. The voice that came out of him was not her daughter’s. Yet it was somehow just as familiar, eerily so.

“Hello, Moon.”

It didn’t feel like her blood could run any colder than it already had. Her fight or flight reflexes desperately wanted to kick in, but she felt rooted to the spot, face to face with the one she recognized as her worst possible enemy. “Toffee…”

Ludo’s body floated out of her hands and up into the air, where he hovered in place, smiling a wide, toothy grin that didn’t quite seem to match what she knew about Ludo’s personality. The emptiness of his eyes made it all that much more unsettling.

All three of them were on their feet in an instant. Neither Marco nor Yvgeny moved into attack stances right away, but they were clearly put on edge by the confirmation of who this was in front of them. Marco looked completely taken aback, as if he thought this was impossible. His mouth was agape, but not so much as a word escaped him. Yvgeny’s eyes were anxiously darting between Ludo’s hovering body and their surroundings like he was expecting more bad memories of the past to jump out of hiding and ambush them. Despite his attempts to appear threatening, he was very clearly incredibly tense.

Moon shook her head quickly, clearing her thoughts. Why Toffee was here did not matter, not right now. She took a commanding step forwards and clenched her fists at her sides. “Give us back Star.”

“Oh, of course,” Toffee chuckled. “But I'd like something from you first. Something that belongs to me.” He outstretched his hand, still bearing the blackened half of the wand in his palm. The missing finger was easily recognizable.

His finger, she remembered. He had mentioned it before, when the rest of the Magic High Commission had been incapacitated. She had found it amid all the rubbish shoved into Star’s closet and had kept it on her since, fearful that Toffee would find it himself. But now, what was she to do? Her sense of reason told her that giving in to his demands was a very poor choice, but did she really have any other options? Her child was now trapped inside the same plane as that monster, that villain. Star needed to be rescued immediately. There was no doubt that her daughter was a fighter, and she was likely already trying to find her own way of escaping. But if Toffee had been inside the wand, after all this time, and had never found a way to escape—

Moon stopped herself from debating it further, reluctantly reaching to remove the small jar from her belt and hold it out towards him. The finger sat inside.

“Your Majesty,” Toffee said, as he floated down closer to her. His hand outstretched further, silently asking for her to follow through with his demands. “Do we have a deal?”

“Take it.”

She tipped the jar upside down and dumped the finger out of it, placing it in his hand before she could convince herself otherwise. The smirk on Ludo’s face widened as he closed his hand around it. The finger immediately began to reattach itself to the severed stump it was once a part of, until it was whole once more.

The light in Ludo’s eyes flickered out, leaving them pitch black. He looked as if his life force had been taken out of his own body, similar to the fate of the High Commission. He hung limply in the air.

Moon wanted to cry out for her daughter again—perhaps she could finally hear her, now—but Ludo’s right arm sharply extended, prompting her to stay silent. The newly reformed finger had yet to stop expanding, as unnatural gray ooze slowly spread from his hand and up his arm, overtaking Ludo’s entire body in a horrific display. The dark sludge took on the shape of a skeleton as it continued to grow. Skin stretched over its form, followed by a jet black suit. As the figure’s shape began to finalize into lizard-like features, his eyes were the last thing to roll into place, and he lightly floated back down to the ground without saying so much as a word. Toffee’s eyes were widened, his gaze settling on the empty space in front of him.

Before anyone was able to even react, he bent forwards and vomited out some of the sickly dark ooze that had reconstructed his body, as well as Ludo himself, who landed in a mostly unconscious heap on the ground. Toffee blinked a few times, shocked silent, before returning to stand upright and examine his hand. It looked as if his finger had never been absent in the first place. His eyes were stretched wide in disbelief.

“Where is my daughter?” Moon demanded, taking a slight step towards him.

“Yeah, where’s Star?!” Marco chimed in from behind her, finally breaking his silence. He chose to adopt a karate stance, lowering himself to the ground with partially bent knees.

Toffee turned his hand out to face them, where the fragment of the wand still resided. Without warning, he clamped his hand shut, crushing the blackened, brittle stone in his palm. It crumbled to dust and he allowed the broken remains to fall to the ground.

“She’s gone,” he said plainly, before he turned and began to walk away.

Everything around Moon in that very moment felt as if it ceased to exist. He had to be lying. There was no possible way that he was telling the truth—she refused to give it the consideration. Admitting that would mean that her daughter was gone, and she wasn’t going to let that be a possibility. No, not at all. She wasn’t in the wand, no, she was somewhere else, safe and happy, somewhere where nothing bad could happen to her.

Her eyes were tearing up...why were they tearing up? Nothing was wrong. No, she hadn’t just made the biggest mistake of her life. Toffee hadn’t won. He hadn’t succeeded in this revenge scheme of his. He hadn’t taken away her baby girl. She was going to prove it. She had to prove that he had failed, and then maybe, just maybe, she could have the last laugh...

Her feet set in motion before her mind could even register it, carrying her towards the septarian. She stepped faster and faster, until she was running, and a emotionally-driven scream tore out of her as she clenched her fists and lunged at him.

Toffee had whirled around to face her the moment she threw her first punch. He pushed her hand away from him before it could collide with his chest. Again and again, she threw her fists at him, and he continued to block her attacks until he caught each of her fists in his own hands. Moon struggled free of his grip and instead pulled Star’s half of the wand off of her belt, placing it directly over the monster’s chest as she repeated the words of the very spell she had used on him in the first place. Despite it being in her own hands, the wand’s shape never changed.

“I call the darkness onto me from deepest depths of earth and sea! From ancient evils unawoken, break the one who can't be broken! From blackest night I pledge my soul, and crush my heart to burning coal! To summon forth the deadly power; to see my hated foe devoured!” Her words were bathed in desperation, but the spell did nothing at all.

Toffee narrowed his eyes at her impatiently. “Are you finished?”

He flinched slightly as a punch was thrown into his back and turned his head to glare at the one who had inflicted it. Marco stood there with his fists held up, clenched knuckles turning white with anger. Tears were pooling in his eyes. Toffee grumbled something under his breath and turned to grab him by the arm, haphazardly throwing him at a nearby pile of rubble. The boy landed in a painful heap, and Yvgeny immediately rushed over to him.

Moon snapped out of her stupor as Toffee took hold of her shoulders, shoving her into the ground. He dusted his hands off on his suit jacket and spared one last unreadable glance at her before walking away. Ludo stopped him before he could leave, but her mind had tuned him out. Her thoughts spiraled downwards as fast as her tears were falling down her face, and she tried desperately to think of something else that could be done.

She scrambled over to the pile of broken pieces scattered across the ground, scooping up a small handful. Yes, that was it! She could put the wand back together again. Then everything would be alright—it had to be alright.

The ground scuffled in front of her, signaling that someone was approaching. But she hardly even heard it.

“Come on, come on. Why won't you fit? Come on.”

A shadow appeared on the ground over her. “Queen?” She looked up and met Marco’s gaze. His sadness was apparent on his face.

“M-Maybe if I-I put the wand back together, it'll… it'll bring her back.” Her voice was trembling as badly as her frail hands were. “But this piece won't fit.”

Marco leaned down on one knee and silently looked over the wand, before picking out a piece and offering it to her. “Here. Try this one.”

“Th-thank you,” she murmured, carefully taking it from him and glancing over it first, and then the pile of shards just in front of her. “There’s just so many pieces, I-I don’t even know where to start…”

She heard light footsteps cautiously draw near, and she knew there was only person around that was small enough to fit that description. Her gaze snapped up to connect with Ludo’s, startling him with how piercing it was.

“I-I’m sorry!” he stammered out immediately, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

She didn’t care how apologetic he sounded. There was no excusing what his actions had ultimately led to, in her eyes. “This is your fault. It’s all because you were stupid enough to fall for his tricks!" He flinched under her accusation, frightened. She recognized the hypocrisy in her own statement—she had just given Toffee the power to escape the wand, hadn’t she?—but the torrent of emotions running through her mind convinced her that she was justified in blaming him. It felt like the only thing she was still able to do.

“I’m so sorry,” Ludo murmured. “I… I don’t know what else to say. I don’t know anything anymore!” He conveyed his frustration and equally afflicted emotions with a wave of his arms. “I never meant for this to happen! I don’t even know what is my fault, a-and what is his…he’s used me, too, I hope you realize…”

“And that’s supposed to give you a pass?” Moon pushed herself off the ground, standing tall over the comparably tiny monster. “Did you really think that no one was going to get hurt? You took over an entire kingdom by brute force and threatened every person standing in your way!”

Ludo made no attempt to deny any of the accusations being thrown at him. He hung his head shamefully and couldn’t bear to maintain eye contact with the queen. “I wanted to be something more, someone who would be revered by the masses for his awe-inspiring greatness. My wand, it spoke to me, yes! It told me that I would be loved as the new King of Mewni. I thought that I could make things better! But the people of Mewni, they despised me… and even worse, it turns out, I haven’t accomplished anything on my own! I thought Toffee was dead, but he was here all along, manipulating me every step of the way!”

“What’s done is done, Ludo. You cannot deny responsibility for your crimes!”

“I’m not trying to!” He retorted, his temper growing equally short. “I’m trying to apologize!”

Moon, not able to stand looking at him any longer, turned herself away from him. “Just get out! Go away!”

“I know that we fought all the time, but I truly never wanted Star to get hurt! Not like this! I just wanted—“

“Get out of my sight!” She screamed, clutching her hands over her head. “L-let me concentrate, please...”

Ignoring him, she studied the wand pieces through her teary eyes, trying to think of what other options she had. She couldn’t think clearly with that insurgent monster pestering her, but even once he gave up and backed away, there was still no way she was going to be able to put all of the pieces back together. Her mind knew this, but her heartache refused to let up. She fell to her knees in front of the broken relic in an admission of desperation.

“I, I need to start over.” She dumped the fragmented half of the wand back into a pile and flattened out the crumbling pieces so she could more easily see them individually. “I have to...”

“Queen Moon.” Yvgeny’s voice was firm, but cautious. “I do not think that is going to work.”

“It’s going to work,” she insisted. “It will work, you’ll see. I’ll prove you all wrong.”

“She might be right,” Marco offered, only to immediately be shut down by Yvgeny.

“No! Do not encourage her.”

“It’s going to work!” _I’ll show you all, _she told herself. I’ll prove it. For Star’s sake.

“Please, you are only hurting yourself by doing this.” Yvgeny kneeled down and managed to pry the wand out of her hands—granted, her grip on it had been shaky.

“What are you—no! Give it back!” She was on her feet in an instant, repeatedly trying to steal it back. He held it well above her head, just out of her reach.

“Queen—“

“Give it back! Give it back, now!” She started beating her fists against his arm weakly, desperately. When the wand still had not returned to her hands, she collapsed into heavy, miserable sobs. Yvgeny frowned sorrowfully at the poor queen, holding onto her shoulder to prevent her from toppling over where she stood.

When the tears had finally run its course, her shoulders dropped in resignation. Her pleading, watery gaze connected with the frog monster. “What am I supposed to do?”

“You should take rest, come back with clear head. Then maybe you will find answer.”

She sniffled and nodded slowly.

“If there is one thing I know about Toffee, is that he is liar. He get inside your mind, make you think all the wrong things.” He turned and looked in the direction that Toffee had left, glaring with contempt. “What he know about magic, anyway?”

Moon’s eyes followed. The septarian had since disappeared, leaving no trace or hint of where he might have gone.

A commotion of royal guards and a few curious passerby had begun to gather around the edge of the crater. Upon seeing the state of the queen, the guards jumped down so that they could escort all of them up to safety.

“Your majesty! Are you alright?” the guard captain asked, skidding to a halt in front of her. “That was quite the explosion…”

Moon hurriedly scooped the wand fragments up from off of the ground, depositing them in the same jar that had previously held Toffee’s finger. Only after she was sure she had all of the pieces did she respond to the guard. “Y-yes, I’m fine, I wasn’t hurt…”

The guard noticed that she had been crying almost immediately. Her reddened and puffy eyes were a dead giveaway, and she likely was showing her grief very clearly. The captain was about to start speaking again, but Moon caught something in the corner of her vision that was more of a pressing matter. A few of the other guards that had jumped down into the crater were now attempting to handcuff both Ludo and Yvgeny—it seemed like they were having difficulty finding handcuffs of the right sizes for either of them, however.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Moon demanded, projecting her voice as clearly as she could manage through her emotional turmoil.

The guards shared glances with each other. It took a couple of moments before one of them dared to speak. “Um… arresting these monsters, your majesty?”

“He helped me,” she said, pointing at Yvgeny. “Where exactly do you think you are taking him?”

“Well, we were going to imprison both of them until further notice, just to be safe.”

“No, you will not. Not him. Buff Frog has not done anything wrong.”

“But, your majesty, he’s a—“

“No. That is an order.”

“If you insist, your majesty.” The closest guard removed the cuffs he had been attempting to lock on his wrists, sparing a judgmental glance at him. Yvgeny took the high road and ignored him entirely. As the guards turned their attention back to Ludo, he crossed the clearing to stand in front of Moon.

“T-thank you, Queen.” The monster quickly bowed his head in gratitude. “I am terribly sorry about Star… if there is anything I can do to help, please let me know.”

“You have your own family to take care of,” Moon responded curtly, her tone coming off as cold. She realized this and tried to backpedal. “…so you don’t need to worry about me and my problems. I’ll be okay.”

He seemed to understand what she meant. He nodded his goodbye and, with one last “thank you” and a solemn look at all of the saddened faces around him, he left the scene and returned to the forest.

“What about him, your majesty?” the guard captain asked, motioning to Ludo. The kappa had already been handcuffed and the guards were waiting for further direction from the queen.

Moon addressed him directly, which seemed to startle him again. “Ludo, you have committed many crimes against my kingdom. I can’t simply forgive that.”

Guiltily, he dipped his head. “I understand.”

That was good enough for the guards, who were quick to escort him away as a prisoner. As they began to climb out of the crater, the captain noticed that Moon hadn’t moved from where she stood. She was staring at the ground silently.

“My Queen? Are you sure that you are alright?”

Quickly, Moon assessed her priorities. “Issue a dimension-wide arrest warrant for Toffee of Septarsis immediately. Make it of the highest importance, have him brought back alive.”

“B-but your majesty, is that not to be the decision of the entire Magical High Commission? Do you have the authority to make such a—“

“I am the only one left.” Her voice dropped to a low, serious tone. “I am making this decision on their behalf.”

“Wh— do you mean to tell me that the High Commission is dead?!”

“No, they’re not dead! No one has died!” Part of her knew her denial was more personally motivated than she’d like to admit. Exhaling loudly, she attempted to calm herself. “Just… please, please… do as I ask.”

The captain, despite her frown, raised her hand to her head in a salute. “O-of course. Right away, your majesty. My apologizes.”

“Find him,” Moon ordered, clenching her fists. “We have to find him.”

#star vs the forces of evil #svtfoe #star butterfly #moon butterfly #marco diaz #toffee of septarsis #ludo avarius #yvgeny (buff frog) bulgoyaboff #motherverse #tbwlhw #immersive

[havetheavengersdoneanythingwrong]

The Slimmest Chance — Run to the Light

An ally in the endless flame of Fuyuki — the lone survivors of the failed Rayshift, Cadence finally stumbled across an ally.

—

‘So, why me?’

A young Master sits just across from a genius.

The woman twirls a lock of her brunette hair, contemplating for only a passing moment before responding.

‘That’s simple. Your mana.’

...His mana. The coward knew his only talent — the only reason he’d be valued as a mage. An endless reservoir of mana, unable to cast anything save for the endless flow of mana his body forced out.

‘...Doesn’t Chaldea have more than enough of that to go around?’

But such a thing would be worthless for summoning. Even if he could summon a Servant with his own power alone — he could likely only use one. And would Chaldea even permit such a contract, when the consequences of letting an average Joe summon a Servant could be so large..?

‘That’s true enough. But, y’know, you were an oddity. I don’t think we’ve seen someone so specialized in such an odd task.’

The lady winked, as if he had some invaluable talent. All the coward could do was chuckle, and shake his head.

‘Yet I can’t cast a single spell. Not without a Mystic Code — even then, my only Mystic Codes are borderline worthless, Da Vinci.’

...Yet the genius didn’t even falter, even for a moment, at the cowardly Master’s words. She only shrugged and continued.

‘You never know, Cadence. Chaldea might fail at summoning, you know. And if that happens... Any Servant is better than no Servant. Let alone one held by a Master like you.’

...The coward breathed a shaky sigh out.

‘...I’m not cut out for this. I... I don’t want to fight like this.’

‘And yet you’re here now, Cadence, and I highly doubt they’ll be keen on letting you out. And chances are, you’ll probably be safe anyways, being in the reserves like this.’

The genius idly tapped her finger against the table between them, and tilted her head ever-so-slightly to the side.

‘Try not to worry, okay?’

—

‘So much for not worrying.’

It had to have been an hour by this point. Maybe more..?

Clear, non-teary eyes, and a calmer perspective, let me survey the area a bit better.

Burning, destroyed buildings, with rivets of wood and metal lining the ground. That smell of burning corpse hadn’t faded at all — if anything, it grew more prominent with every step I took further into the center of this city.

The fires of Fuyuki... That’s what this was, wasn’t it? They’d said something of this Singularity before the fated Rayshift. No matter what the place looked like — felt like — now, it was supposed to be a simple fire.

‘...A ‘simple’ fire.’

Compared to what I saw now, the original happenings were far simpler, huh?

Bones fell to the ground to my left, just as I turned to survey what I could see there — finding only the vast expanse of flame, and the remnants of a lone swordbearing skeleton that Kagekiyo made short work of.

“...These can’t be true Genji, Master.”

The being turned to me with a furrowed brow, dusting a bit of what seemed to be bone fragments off their shoulder, all as I forced myself to a stop.

“They go down too quickly. Their strategy is laughable. How do we know that we’re fighting the true danger here?”

...The ‘Genji.’ A term that still eluded me, in part. I could assume it to be in relation to the Minamoto clan, but...

...Now wasn’t the time to ask. I breathed out a sigh — carefully, as to not choke on the smoke — and began to form some sort of response.

“They don’t seem like the part. Frankly, who actually did this to us still eludes me.”

...The being sheathed their blades, and crossed their arms, matching my pace to walk beside me as I began to move towards the center once more.

“...How bothersome. The Genji have stooped so low as to send such weak warriors after us. Do they underestimate me as a warrior?!”

They lowered their hand to their blade, and seemed to grit their teeth. While making a sidestep just in case, my mouth opened before I could think.

“It’s probable that the Genji might have a role in this, if I’m understanding things right. And my guess is that they don’t know you’re here yet!”

‘...Damn me and my motor mouth.’

All that did was make Kagekiyo seemingly more angered — now, tapping their fingers quickly against the hilt of their blade, as if feebly attempting to hold back an ever-increasing rage.

“They don’t know?! Then we have to make sure they do! Fill the hearts of the Genji with fear as I slaughter their men!”

‘That has to be the worst possible plan. Making ourselves known would just make the perpetrator kill us now!’

My stomach had already tied itself in knots — a horrid feeling of nausea coming up, only suppressed by a rapid change of focus.

‘...If she’s keen on making herself public enemy number one, I probably can’t fight that. She’s an Avenger — I doubt she’d go for any other option.’

Panic wouldn’t help me — it’d only make our deaths more assured. Even as anxiety welled in my throat, I desperately moved forward, upping my pace to let out the excess energy.

“Master?”

The Avenger followed suit — even with the mask, I could’ve sworn I saw their eyebrow raise.

“...If we want to make ourselves known to the Genji, we can do it. But we can’t do it too bluntly, or else they’ll just kill me.”

...Kagekiyo gritted their teeth, but nodded in agreement anyways. Certainly, it would get things over with quickly — but we both knew that I was the weak link. There was no getting past that.

“...It’s only a matter of time before they realize their mooks are going down. Then, they’ll send their big guys after us. That’s when we strike.”

Our backs were against the wall. Even with no flame behind me, I knew each fight was my ‘last stand’ at survival, and it was the same for Kagekiyo by proxy.

Judging by their hand releasing itself from their blade, they knew that just as well as I did.

“...Understood. We let them come to us, and slaughter them.”

“Something like that.”

...Somehow, I’d felt my anxiety lessen — not strangling me, as much as simply tightly gripping me now. It seemed they weren’t unreasonable — not completely.

If only it stayed that way.

Mere moments after our plan was cemented, the scenery finally changed — we’d reached the center, or the closest thing to it. A place surrounded by burning, but still standing, buildings.

And in the middle of what might’ve been an intersection — a woman with a shield larger than herself, shielding a white-haired lady and an orange-haired woman from the strikes of a Servant shrouded in darkness.

‘...Should’ve knocked on wood.’

Something twisted in my gut — instinctively, I covered my mouth, squeezing my eyes shut for a moment as I heard Kagekiyo’s blades unsheathe.

“...Master?”

I swallowed what must’ve been bile — it felt like it, even if nothing was there. Taking a step back, desperately trying to steady my breaths, I managed a nod.

“Looks like that being... That’s our first target, Kagekiyo. Protect the three people defending against them.”

“...Understood.”

I knew full well I could not fight — only remaining nearby. Yet, I raised my hand, staring down at a Mystic Code I had on my right hand.

A silver ring, with an emerald gem on its front. The emblem of a lion set on the inside of it. Even with the blood of the summoning circle on it, its beauty remained.

‘...Ironic.’

Despite it all, I held that hand close, as Kagekiyo engaged — dodging a shadowy chained dagger that threatened to strike her arm.

The shadowy figure changed its opponent — from the lady with the shield to Kagekiyo. It approached, retaliating immediately after its first hit was evaded, with two chained daggers thrown as if to entangle Kagekiyo.

Even so — the being simply sidestepped the first chain, raising her foot to avoid entanglement, before jumping suddenly into the air to avoid the second chain.

Retaliation was quick, simple — both blades appearing to make their mark as the Avenger shot back down to terra firma behind the Servant. And yet—

“Kagekiyo!”

The Servant was prepared for such a move. Another chain flung behind them — even at such close ranges, the Avenger could at least move their chest out of the way, the dagger instead landing in their arm.

The Avenger only grinned, and allowed the second shot to pass right through the armour on their chest—

“Kagekiyo?!”

...Even as the dagger surely pierced their heart—

...No, it had surely hit its mark. The dagger, clean through Kagekiyo’s chest armour, was right where the being’s heart should’ve been.

But it did little more than make the being smile, as they snugly fit their katana directly through the throat of the Servant.

“...Eliminated.”

The lady with the shield remained, attempting to protect from a potential attack from the enemy Servant.

As the shadowed Servant faded away, I found myself running forward as if by reflex — sliding to a stop before my teammate, I looked them over in a panic.

...Nothing. Even raising the fabric hiding their chest armour, even despite the crack —

Not a hint of the wound remained.

“...Do you underestimate me, Master? If I died so easily, the Genji would have no reason to fear.”

‘...How..?’

But even after a moment — it made sense.

Kagekiyo was no person, were they? A ‘concept,’ a being that attempted to kill Yoritomo over thirty times. Not even death stopped them — they would come back every time.

...Even part of their legend — was that they were never truly gone. So long as hatred for the Genji remained, Kagekiyo would never die.

‘...I don’t assume they’re invulnerable — but...’

Off a hunch, it could’ve been the ceaseless anger of an Avenger itself that allowed their survival through a hit that could’ve put an end to their carnage.

“...Go figure.”

...After a moment, I heard the shield drop behind me.

“—Aren’t you..?”

A soft, kind voice. One followed shortly by a sharp, laidback voice of a Master I knew all too well.

“Cadence?! Goddamn, is it nice to see a familiar face around here.”

“...Ritsuka..?!”

Go figure. The person whose talent was that of physical alteration. I’d only ever seen them with the black hair and male form — no wonder their other visage wasn’t recognizable.

“Hey! Nice to know we’ve got an ally in all this. Me, Olga, and Mash were able to get in. How’d you get in here?”

Go figure. Someone like Ritsuka was exactly the sort to simply waltz on in to a place like this. They seemed at home in the danger — surely scared, but compartmentalizing it as if it were nothing.

“I can hardly remember in all the chaos. Hopefully a bit of company can help me remember.”

‘...If only I could take this that well.’

I had to shake the half-bitter thoughts from my mind. Disregarding those whispers of envy, I tried my best to keep myself upright — as my stomach took its sweet, sweet time unknotting itself.

“No kidding. We can bring you to the leyline to let Romani know we have another survivor, but we’ll have to be quick about it. And...”

The Master was very quickly interrupted, however, by the white-haired woman.

“—Why on God’s green Earth do you have a Servant with you?! You don’t have a link to Chaldea, do you? How can we trust him?!”

...Olga Marie. Only one voice was that rude, that moody. Yet, somehow, music to the ears compared to the rattling of bones.

I stuffed my left hand into my pocket, and raised my right hand — the summoning circle I hastily made no longer bleeding, only the cut-out circle remaining.

“Probably similarly to you guys. I tried summoning a Servant out of sheer panic, and...”

Kagekiyo stepped forward, cleaning their blades of what might’ve been blood before sheathing them in tandem.

“He drew upon the power of myself. I am Avenger.”

“—We’re his allies! Shouldn’t you reveal your True Name?!”

Almost immediately, Olga’s gaze changed to the blindfolded warrior, moving her terrified fury to them instead of me. While Kagekiyo gritted their teeth, I forced myself to interject before things got any worse.

“Avenger, we should probably do so once we reach a safe place. We won’t gain anything from revealing your True Name here, save perhaps giving the enemy the advantage. And, Olga...”

Her tone was intimidating. Terrifying. But it wasn’t drenched in poison — it was drenched in fear. Just like myself.

I could restrain my anxiety, a little longer.

“...It’s not a great idea to push an Avenger into doing something they don’t want to.”

...Olga retracted after a moment, furrowing her brow and balling her hands up; dropping the subject and turning to Ritsuka.

“Just... Just take them to the leyline with us! And if they try anything funny, Mash—“

“Yes, I know.”

...The shielder — Mash. A lady I rarely ever saw, but a kind lady from what I knew. How had she become a Servant..?

...Surely the answers would come later. Ritsuka, not wasting time, immediately started setting off in what seemed like an arbitrary direction.

‘...Then again, even if we had a map, any direction would still feel arbitrary.’

As Olga hastily followed, being sure to keep Mash and her shield between her and Kagekiyo, I followed suit in the back — the Avenger keeping pace with me.

“...And why must we stay in the back?”

“They don’t believe we’re allies yet. This is a new world, and for all they know, we could be the suspects.”

...Paranoia, ceaseless fear — I felt as if I could understand that. Seeing enemies where there only lay friends, harassers and thieves in the safest of places...

...It was no small wonder, in a hellhole like this, that Olga would find herself falling to such a fear.

“...Will they help us destroy the Genji?”

“Easily. If we want to win, we’ll need all the allies we can get. People don’t fear anything as much as a coordinated team.”

...The being nodded in approval — lacking the reluctance I’d seen earlier.

‘...In truth, it was all luck, wasn’t it?’

It was obvious — Ritsuka was the true leader. A smiling hero. Like a lead actor making themselves known in the very first scene.

...It was all luck, surely, to have re-found the few survivors, and to have formed a small team. To have found a leader so calm in the face of imminent death.

But surely, with this — our chances of survival grew stronger still.

#fgo #gudasona #mastersona #l o r e #cadenceloreposting #he finds the team at last?? cadence not alone

[jjungkookislife]

You held Hoseok’s hand as you waited in the living room for Jimin and Taehyung to come back from the mountain.  They had climbed high enough to reach the snow but would soon be coming back down to join the rest of the group on your walk into town.

“Do you think I have time for another bowl of cereal?” Jungkook asks as he slurps up the last of his milk that’s in his bowl.  

Yoongi shakes his head, “I’m glad you don’t live with me.  You’d eat all the food.”

Jungkook shrugs before looking out the front window to see Taehyung and Jimin having a snowball fight.  

“Looks like I have time,” Jungkook cheers as he rushes to the kitchen to make another bowl.  

Namjoon yawns, his head falling on Jin’s shoulder as he mumbles sleepily about wanting to return to bed.  

“Where’s your Christmas spirit?” You ask with a pout.  

“We’d have some if Jimin and Tae would hurry up.  We want to head out and have plenty of time to make Christmas dinner,” Jin grumbles as he picks up a shredded piece of wrapping paper left over from the gift exchange an hour prior.

Hoseok fiddled with his pants as he made sure that your second gift, the locket was safely in his pocket.  He was hoping he would be able to sneak both of you away from the group long enough to give it to you.  

Nearly twenty minutes later, Taehyung and Jimin walk through the door with bright smiles on their faces as they ignore the heat of everyone’s glare.

“Are we ready?” Jimin chirps as Yoongi rises from his seat to walk over to his boyfriend, pointing upward to the mistletoe hanging over their heads before his lips meet Jimin’s.

“All right, lovebirds, let’s go.”  Namjoon grabs Jin’s hand as he rises from the couch for your group to pile out the door.  Your hand finds Hoseok’s, holding it tight as you allow the cool winter air to whip your hair out of your face.

“Not much will be open today, but there is a small market in town and carnival games set up in the center of the town,” Namjoon explains as he leads the way down the path that leads through a short forested area before opening into the first buildings of the city.

Christmas lights and decorations are strewn on every building, children are running toward the carnival rides as their panicked parents chase after them.  Hoseok pulls you into his chest, holding you tight as a little boy with a big dog rushes past you, nearly toppling you.

“Thanks,” you breathe a sigh of relief as you smile at your boyfriend.

Jungkook had grabbed Taehyung and led him to a terrifying ride you’d never get on, and you’re extremely thankful when Hoseok doesn’t ask you to get on it.  

Before you know it, your group has split up and you’re alone with Hoseok, checking out the games and wondering which ride you’d actually feel comfortable getting on.  You settle for bumper cars first, regretting it the second other people slam into your car.

Hoseok’s laugh is infectious as he bumps into you, sending you spinning before another person's car stops you, jostling you in your seat.  With a mock scowl, you narrow your eyes before slamming your own car into Hoseok’s, giggling when it sends him further from you.  

When the ride ends, Hoseok appears immediately at your side, making sure you’re not too roughed up and eager for your next ride.  He wonders when he’d be able to give you the locket, his fingers brushing against the small box to ensure he hasn’t lost it.

Hoseok feels nerves bubbling up in his stomach, ‘what if she doesn’t like it?’  He’s filled with so much doubt and uncertainty that he doesn’t notice when Jungkook and Taehyung pull you away from him until it’s too late and he’s standing all alone.

~

“Where’s Jungkook going?” you ask when Taehyung leads you to a reasonably long line for the ride you had seen upon entering the area.  You looked up at it, wondering if you should get on as the swings spun around high in the air, screams, and laughter filling your ears from the lucky people who were already on it.

“He wanted to get something to eat,” Taehyung shrugs as he takes his phone out, showing you the most recent picture of Tannie that his parents have sent him.

“You really miss him, don’t you?” you smile as you hand his phone back to him.

“A lot, I don’t like being away from him for too long,” he sighs heavily as he puts his phone away.

“I like his haircut, he looks neat.”

“Oh, he has a new groomer!  She does such a good job. I tried taking Mickey to her but Hoseok said no,”  Taehyung pouts, moving forward as the line moves.

“Oh?  How come?”

“I kinda like her and the only time I can see her is if I’m taking Tannie but I’ve taken him so many times already, what if she thinks I’m weird? Or creepy?”

“Have you tried actually talking to her, Tae?”  You raise your brow in question before you wrap your arms around yourself to warm yourself up after a rather cold chill passes through.

“I wouldn’t know where to start,”  Taehyung nibbles his bottom lip before his dejected look has your heart sinking.

“I’m sure we could help you?  Maybe Hoseok and I can go with you and take Mickey for support?”

“You’d do that for me?!” Taehyung’s eyes widened with excitement, his boxy grin melting your heart.

“I’ll have to ask Hoseok, but we’ll ask him once we’re all back home,” you say and Tae looks like he’s about to jump from how excited he already is.  Your smile is warm as you accept his hug before he’s distracted when you’re up next.

After your ride, Jungkook steals Taehyung away from you, leaving you on your own for three seconds when Jimin and Yoongi take you to a game.  You watch on, looking for Hoseok but pouting when you realize he’s nowhere to be seen.  A frown appears on your face as you patiently wait for Yoongi to win Jimin a prize.  You’re surprised when Yoongi gets you one as well before the three of you head to the next game.

“How’s it going with Hoseok?  I feel like we haven’t had a chance to talk in ages,” Jimin sighs but you laugh, shaking your head.

“It’s been a few days,”

“A few long days, baby.  The last we heard from you, you slept at his place.”  

“I’ve updated you since then,” you protest but both men shake their heads before looking at each other.

“Have you been updated, Jimin?”

“Have you been updated, Yoongi?”

“Alright, fine, I get it,” you roll your eyes but smile regardless as you lean against the wooden frame of the gaming area, still on the lookout for your boyfriend.

“It’s been really amazing.  He’s such a sweetheart and now we’re just picking up where we left off in Lowan Beach.  There’s so much about him I didn’t know and I’m genuinely happy to get to know him more and I’m already so comfortable around him.  I love being around him, he’s such a breath of fresh air and at the same time he’s not afraid to be serious or get out of his own bubble.”

“You really like him?” Yoongi asks as he pauses his game to look at you, the ball in his hand feeling heavy before he turns to throw it, missing the bottles.  He curses.  Jimin pats his shoulder before he takes the last ball and knocks down all the bottles, winning Yoongi a prize.

“I do, I know we haven’t been dating long but it just feels right?  Does that even make sense?”

“Of course it does!”  Jimin claps his hands together, a giant grin on his face.  “That’s how I felt when Yoongi and I got together.  You just feel like you have an instant connection, everything just falling into place automatically.”  You nod in agreement, thankful that your best friends know the feelings you’re experiencing.

“Hey!” you all turn to see Seokjin bounding toward the three of you.  His hand is waving around as he approaches you, out of breath as he rests his hands on his knees, bent over trying to catch his breath.

“Are you okay?” your genuine concern makes Jin smile as he shoots you a thumbs up.

“Had to outrun Jungkook,” he gives as an explanation without delving into details.  If there’s anything you’ve learned from Jungkook, it’s that the fewer details you have, the better off you’ll be.

“Where’s Namjoon?” Yoongi asks as he wraps up his game, holding his teddy bear close to his chest.

“Lost him, we split up to lose Jungkook.”

Jimin decides not to prod any further before suggesting the four of you head over to the ice skating rink.

~

Namjoon looks over his shoulder, thankful that Jungkook has decided to chase Seokjin instead of him as he slows until he finally comes to a stop, nearly bumping into Hoseok.

“What’s up?” Hoseok scrunches his brows in confusion as he looks at his younger friend.

“Jungkook-” Namjoon starts but Hoseok lifts his hand to stop him.

“That’s all I need to hear.”

Namjoon laughs loudly, his dimples becoming prominent as he continues to laugh.  

“What are you doing all alone?” Namjoon asks once he’s calmed down enough to speak without laughing.

“Jungkook and Tae took my girlfriend with them.  I can’t find them and nobody is answering my texts,” Hoseok shrugs as he takes a sip of his hot chocolate.

“How are you and her doing?”  

“Really well.  I know we haven’t been together for more than a few days but we’ve been talking for months and we already had a connection back at the beach.  It just feels right,” Hoseok shrugs, blushing as he continues to walk at Namjoon’s side.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, man.  I’m just glad you were able to find her again, Seokjin was half-tempted to go to Lowan beach and ask around,” Namjoon shakes his head at the memory of his boyfriend pacing back and forth in his room trying to develop a plan to find Hoseok’s girl.

“Jin’s too sweet for his own good,” Hoseok chuckles as the pair comes up to a food stand, both ordering hot chocolate before continuing their walk.

“Have you given her the locket?  I didn’t see her wearing it,” Namjoon states as the two have a seat on a bench that overlooks the few carnival rides within five feet.

“I haven’t had the chance to get her alone today,” Hoseok sighed.  “Any time I try to get her alone, someone whisks her away.”

“I’ll get the two of you alone next time we see her.”

“I’m worried she won’t like the locket or if she’ll think it’s too sentimental since we haven’t been together long   It’s only been a few days, ya know?  What if she’s not as into me as I am into her?”  Hoseok nervously picks at his jacket, holding his cup tighter.

“Look, you’re the one who always tells us nothing ventured, nothing gained.  Now, as much as I may find that a bit annoying, it’s given me the encouragement to put myself out there.  Hell, I kept repeating that before I asked out Seokjin and now look at us.  Closed mouths don’t get fed, man.  I can’t force you to do anything but I think you should go for it; give her the locket.  I’ve seen the way she looks at you, Seok.  It’s the way you say Seokjin looks at me, and if that’s not love then I don’t know what is.”

“Namjoon,” Hoseok is at a loss for words, smiling at his friend instead.

“I’m good, I know,” Namjoon chuckles as he rises from his seat, finishing his drink just as he spots you with his boyfriend and Jimin and Yoongi.

“Well, would you look at that?” Hoseok turns to look at Namjoon, who is already walking toward the group.  He rises from his seat, tossing his cup in the trash as he sees Namjoon speaking to all of you before he points over in his direction.  Hoseok sees you smile, waving at the group of men before you’re jogging over to him.

“Hoseok!” You greet him with a smile, hugging him as he wraps his arm around your waist.  “Look what Yoongi got for me!”

Hoseok grins as you show him your teddy bear, cooing at it as you tell him about what you’ve been up to.  

“How about you and I go get in line for the Ferris Wheel?”

“Of course!  Nobody wanted to get in with me and Yoongi likes to shake it,” you pout as Hoseok laughs while linking your hands together to lead you over to the line for the ride.

“I promise I won’t shake it, angel.” Hoseok pulls you close to him, kissing your temple before moving up in the line.  Hoseok ends up stepping behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist as he rests his head on your shoulder, moving forward when the line does.  It’s only ten minutes before you’re up next and Hoseok helps you in.

“I didn’t think I’d actually get to ride this today,” you muse as you scoot over and Hoseok wraps his arm around your shoulder.  You lean into him, lacing your fingers together.  “Thank you for coming with me, Seokie.”

“No need to thank me, love,”  Hoseok assures you as he kisses your cheek as the Ferris Wheel completes its first full rotation before starting the second.  The ride stops, you and Hoseok have a view of the carnival and the surrounding homes.  Hoseok is nervous, his hand sliding into his pocket to pull out the box with your locket inside.  

“Baby?”

“Yeah?” you hum in response, your eyes focused on the view before turning to Hoseok.  You immediately gasp when your eyes land on the locket, a smile tugging at your lips.

“I got this for you as well,” Hoseok says as he cautiously takes out the locket, his delicate fingers toying with it.

“It’s beautiful,” you whisper as you reach out to touch it, holding it in your hands before Hoseok helps you put it on.

“It looks beautiful on you,” Hoseok blushes, feeling the tips of his ears burning.   He clears his throat, smiling when you thank him and peck his lips.  “I know we haven’t actually dated for too long but I really wanted to get you something special.”

“I love it, Hoseok.  Now I’ll have you with me wherever I go,” you grin, kissing his cheek as you hold the locket between your fingers.  You open it, “oh wow!  It’s the first picture we took together.”

“I thought it’d be perfect,” Hoseok blushes as he looks at the picture and then at you.  

“It is, I love it.  Thank you,,” you smiled widely before hugging him tightly as the ride begins to move once again.  Hoseok cups your face, his lips meeting yours as he loses himself in the kiss.  When he pulls away, his forehead rests against yours, his hands still on your face as his thumb brushes your bottom lip, “beautiful.”

leave it all behind

Part fifty-eight: Merry Christmas

← previous / next →

masterlist

#leave it all behind smau #hoseok smau #hoseok social media au #bts smau #bts social media au #jung hoseok smau #jung hoseok social media au #bts fake texts #bts fake social media #hoseok fake instagram #hoseok x reader insert #hoseok x yn #cousin!jungkook #namjin au #yoonmin au #liab smau

[efrmellifer]

Complement

or, How Etien Got that Locket from Estinien

Aymeric put down his tea. “You look puzzled, Estinien.”

“I am. I’ve never had to shop for jewelry before.”

Prefaced with a barely-restrained snort, Aymeric replied, “Well I dare say you still aren’t doing so, nursing a cup of coffee at my table.”

Estinien took another sip, sticking his tongue out in spite when he’d swallowed. “Fair enough.”

“Do you want help?”

“No!” He cleared his throat. “No, thank you.”

The teacup met the saucer again with a quiet clink as it was placed down. “Is this jewelry for the person I think it is?”

“Aye. I thought it better to buy it while she’s gone.”

Aymeric hummed. “A wise decision. Do you know what you’re looking for?”

Estinien thought, tapping his thumb on the table. “I doubt she needs more earrings.”

“She does collect them,” Aymeric reminded him.

“Still. So not them, or rings. She has plenty of those. Maybe a necklace.”

There was a long silence.

“Have you nothing to say?”

“You said you didn’t want my help.” Aymeric paused. “And you know her as well as I do, at this point.”

Estinien huffed just a little. “You met her first. You wooed her first. The Scions teased her about her feelings for you.”

“She hugged you first when she came back from the First most recently.”

“And? What of it?”

“I think she likes you,” Aymeric said, leaning on the table, chin in hand and something nearing a smirk on his lips. “I know I certainly do, so I hate seeing you so frustrated by this.”

“I can figure it out on my own.”

“I know you can. I still would like to help you.”

“Then you can give it the final approval when I come back,” Estinien finally relented, pushing back from the table. “I’ll finish that then, too.”

Aymeric looked at the coffee where it was left on the table, shaking his head.

_

It was easier than Estinien had anticipated to actually buy the jewelry; there had been no lifted eyebrows and no snide commentary. It was as simple as describing what he wanted, making a selection of what was offered, and handing over the money.

The last step was the easiest of them.

He’d opened with something easy to latch onto: “I’m looking for jewelry for a lady.” Then he had specified he would prefer to look at necklaces, since this woman couldn’t wear fancy bracelets, already had a sizable collection of earrings, and only had so many fingers on which to wear her rings.

But she did keep a large selection of pendants around her neck.

He was shown gemstones and carved rock, petrified wood and whittled pieces.

“Do you have anything in silver?” he asked finally.

There were only two pieces like that, one a silver leaf, shimmering in the wintry sunlight, but altogether too large and fragile to be worn all over Eorzea and outward.

...and he did want her to wear it all the time.

Luckily, the other piece was closer to what he had in mind—small and sturdy, the silver still glinting and capped with a bright ruby for an accent. Beautiful, and sure to survive most things.

Just like her.

“This one,” he told the jeweler, now holding the piece in his hands to examine and admire it further.

“Will you need a chain, ser?”

“No, she already has a chain. Thank you.”

“Then can I wrap it?”

Reluctantly, Estinien handed the pendant over again to be packaged up.

“Shall I leave it closed, or have it be presented open?” the jeweler asked, shaking Estinien from his reveries.

“Open?”

The jeweler popped the thing open, revealing that it was in fact a locket. Well. That certainly added an extra bit of depth to the article, didn’t it?

Plenty of Ishgardian men had proposed with lockets, to the point it was something of a tradition. Not all of them did, of course; some had family heirlooms to share with their spouses. The thing was, Estinien had never thought he would be purchasing a locket.

Now he wondered to himself, since it wouldn’t be an actual proposal of marriage, should he put a clipping of his hair in it, as was customary?

He would leave that for Etien to decide. For now, he would just give her the locket, and all it entailed. Stay with me, it begged, though it had no need to. She seemed pleased as punch with the arrangement they had all arrived at.

He didn’t need to ask her to stay with him—he was the addition, besides. They were a pair, and he was the third complement.

But all three had made some sort of commitment to one another already. This was just the companion to the wedding ring around her neck.

Marking her, claiming her as his lover, same as she was evidently Aymeric’s wife. So he could feel the swell of pride too at seeing the token of their love featured prominently on her, and not just when his bite was blooming on her flesh.

Though, she never hid them on purpose. And that had always given him a little jolt of confidence.

Regardless, this was about how he was making clear the commitment yet again.

A ruby and a lock of his hair in place of poetry written to be spoken before a priest and then kissed into her mouth for hours afterward.

He shook his head slightly to clear it of the thoughts just as the jeweler finished boxing up the locket, handing it over.

“I hope she likes it,” he told Estinien with a wink.

_

When next Etien returned, while she was still sitting at the table (before they all scampered off to bed to press close and rain kisses upon one another), he slid the box to her.

“What’s this?” she asked.

Aymeric leaned forward slightly, eyes on the bow atop it. “Yes, Estinien, what is it?”

“You can both find out if you open it, Etien.”

She carefully drew the ribbon from the knot it was in, letting it flutter from her hand to the tabletop.

Then she lifted the lid.

“Oh! It’s…” She lifted it from the box, and the pressure of her fingers snapped it shut. “Oh,” she mumbled, understanding washing over her. “This is very pretty. Isn’t it missing something?”

“I thought I would let you do the cutting of my hair,” Estinien explained, trying not to blurt out Do you like it?

“Wonderful.” She beamed as she examined the locket more fully, running her finger over the ruby embedded in it, and opening it again to get a better look at the inside. This would be the last time, after all. After this, it would be bearing his hair, and to open it would be to lose the little sliver of him she was carrying around.

It was plain on the inside. And that made it all the prettier, in her eyes.

“I don’t know if I need to give this a response; I imagine it’s symbolic, really,  but I accept the offer of your hand in… well, you know.”

He laughed. “Halone be praised.”

Then, they scampered off to the bedroom, and she carefully brought a pair of shears closed on the very ends of his hair, dropping the strand inside the locket and closing it, so she could thread it onto her necklace right away.

As they lay three abreast that night, Etien turned to face him, and giggled when Estinien’s gaze fell below her eyes. Below her mouth, even.

“Something distracting you down there?” she teased, though the insides of her ears had gone a deeper pink.

“I’m looking at the locket,” he admitted, “it looks good on you.” He pressed it into her skin, as if he couldn’t believe it was really there, just under her collarbone.

“The little missing bit of hair looks kind of cute, too,” she replied, twirling the strand around her finger.

“Is it that obvious?”

“No, I just know where it is. And I like knowing that the piece that’s missing is with me.”

“Always,” Estinien replied. “Same with my heart.”

“You’re stealing my material,” Aymeric sighed sleepily over Etien’s shoulder.

“I’m merely quoting a well-spoken romantic,” Estinien said by way of defense, leaning over Etien to kiss him.

“Well, if we plan to flatter her, we cannot leave her out,” Aymeric said when they parted, turning Etien’s head so he could kiss at the corner of her mouth. “She who makes us well-spoken, so we can tell her how much we love her.”

She blinked slowly, in affection and sleepiness, then rolled onto her back so she could clutch them both closer to her, her fingers drifting through silver-y strands on one side and inky waves on the other.

As she got comfortable, literally surrounded by love, her wedding ring and the locket settled together quite nicely on the chain and rested just above her heart.

#fic #estinyan #Wyrmelliferel #I would like to direct your attention to the fact that her wedding ring is a Sapphire and this locket is a Ruby #those are the same stone just different colors #like the love here!