#the last time i drew a dragon i struggled a LOT. but surprisingly i got him on the first try???

[hulking-greatowl]

@dragonaday-fr but make it inktober

day 1: joxar

#the last time i drew a dragon i struggled a LOT. but surprisingly i got him on the first try??? #like did a messy sketch and was like. HOLD ON I ACTUALLY GOT IT THIS ACTUALLY LOOKS GOOD #i hope this challenge stays struggle-less <3 #my art #own #joxar fr #flight rising #jester's dadtober 2023

[collapsingintojupiter]

To The End And Back: Chapter 4

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3

Chapter 5

Characters: Philza, Technoblade, Tommy, Tubbo, Dream, Quackity, Fundy, Eret, Captain Puffy, Sam

Warning: Character Death

---

By the time Technoblade woke up the next morning, he found that Philza was already reading again. He glanced up at the piglin as he climbed down the ladder, and with a sigh slammed the book he’d been reading shut. 

“I honestly think we should just go,” he said. “We already prepared for the worst, there’s no point in prolonging it.”

“I see you’re optimistic,” Techno observed with a yawn. 

“Every book I open...There’s nothing new, it’s just the same vague prophecies of doom and destruction every time, I doubt they knew much more than we did about that fucking portal. So…” He slid the book away and stood up, turning to Techno. “Let’s go.”

The piglin considered his words for a moment, then shrugged and reached for his satchel. 

“I’ll trust you,” he said. “If you think we should go, I’ll come with you.”

And if we die, we die. 

Either way, they’d started something when that portal opened that they couldn’t turn away from. Now they had to end it, one way or another, or die trying. There was no way to undo what had been done.

Techno and Phil once again gathered everything they could think of - all the weapons and potions they could find, and their best armor. Though when they set out this time, only two sets of footprints stretched out behind them as they walked. It was snowing again, much more heavily than it had been a few days ago - distantly, Phil wondered if there would be a storm. 

They arrived at the cave’s entrance, and the two exchanged one last look in the light of day before turning to descend into the darkness once more. Techno had marked the way out from the library, so the path down was easier to follow than it had been last time. 

But...something was different. The cave wasn’t deathly quiet like Phil remembered it, rather...he swore it murmured to them in the dark. And it wasn’t the harsh, almost malicious sound of the portal - it sounded more like some kind of distant chatter, echoing upwards from further on down the tunnels. 

What the hell was going on? 

Phil started running, and Technoblade followed him without question. Sprinting down damp hallways, past walls slick with moss and rot, his footsteps thundered in his ears louder than even his many anxious thoughts. 

Gods, were they already too late?

He spun around a corner, and the chatter was a lot louder - it sounded like voices. Many voices. 

“What the fuck is this?” Philza burst into the portal room with his sword drawn, and Technoblade followed with the Axe of Peace. 

“He’s here!” Tommy pumped his fist into the air, and several shouts and cheers echoed after him as he ran forward to greet the two. Philza blinked and lowered his sword in shock - the portal room was full of people from all over the server - friends, people he’d never met...even enemies, all with their best armor and weapons strapped by their sides.

“You…”

“We got everybody we could to help.” Tubbo appeared by Tommy’s side, an almost-triumphant grin on his face. “You didn’t think we’d let you face whatever’s on the other side of this alone, did you?”

“I…” Yeah, basically. Philza didn’t say that though. But he smiled, tiredly. “You got everybody,” he said instead. Quackity stepped forward, Fundy by his side. 

“Look, Ranboo may have fucked us over, but if Tubbo’s going in there, then I’m coming too. He’s my friend.” He held up his diamond axe, a maniacal grin on his face. “I hate your guts, Techno, but if it’s for Ranboo - for Tubbo, then I’ll work with you.”

“Hear hear!” Puffy shouted, and a chorus of agreements reverberated across the room. 

 “No.”

Everyone turned, and many eyes narrowed as a familiar mask revealed itself in the light of their torches. Dream stood at the entrance to the portal room, his armor glowing purple - in one hand he held an enchanted netherite sword, and in the other an axe of the same material. He held it out, and the blade stopped inches away from Tommy’s neck. 

“Step away from the portal,” he ordered. “Nobody is going into the End.”

“Oh yes we are.” Surprisingly, the voice wasn’t Tommy’s. It was Philza’s. He stepped in between Dream and Tommy, knocking the blade away with his own. His eyes narrowed. 

“You aren’t going to touch that fucking portal, do you understand?” he said lowly. “We are going in there to save Ranboo, and we’re going whether you like it or not; whether you’re coming or not. Back off.”

Dream began to move his sword, but in a flash Techno lunged forward and parried the blow. The piglin towered over him, axe held menacingly in his hands. 

“I think Philza was clear,” he said, in a voice that was dangerously calm. “I suggest you listen to him, Dream.” 

“But you can’t go in there!” Dream’s voice was almost desperate. He looked behind Techno, at everybody who stood in the room behind him, but nobody moved. “You can’t!”

“Why not?” Quackity demanded. “What’re you gonna do if we go in there, Dream?”

Dream didn’t answer. 

“You’re not going to do a damn thing,” he continued. “You won’t do a damn thing, because none of us are going to fucking let you. Ranboo might have fucked us over, but at least he treated us like his friends; at least he’s not out here trying to play God.” He pointed his axe at Dream, eyes dark with rage. “Get the fuck out of here you homeless bitch. Or we’ll kill you.”

For a long time, nobody moved. Then Dream suddenly turned on his heel and left, sharp footsteps echoing through the corridor as the darkness swallowed his glowing armor. The room remained silent for what felt like an eternity, before Tubbo turned to Philza. 

“Would you like to lead the way?” he asked, gesturing to the portal with his sword. Phil slowly turned from where Dream had been standing, eyes narrowed, and he nodded. 

“Let’s go.” Philza drew his sword and stepped up to the dark swirling void; without looking back, he stepped in. 

A whirl of shadows encompassed him, followed by a flash of light, and Phil found himself standing on sand. The sand didn’t go very far; beyond it yawned a dark void, empty of stars and color. He stood up and turned around, finding what looked to be a massive island a short distance from the one he stood on. It was made of sand too, bordered by pillars that stretched up into the dark sky around its edges. Endermen wandered around the pale sand below them, their glowing purple eyes barely visible from where Phil stood. Something enormous and dark stood in the center of the island, like a piece of the void given form. It didn’t move. 

“This is...not what I expected,” Phil said aloud. 

“That’s a lot of void,” another voice agreed. Phil whipped around to find Techno standing next to him, his steady voice betraying the confusion in his eyes as he slowly took in the strange dimension around them. His presence was followed by many more, as Tommy, then Tubbo, then Quackity, Fundy, Puffy, Eret, and others he didn’t recognize appeared on the sand beside him. 

Techno and Phil started bridging towards the island. 

“Make sure you don’t look into their eyes!” Puffy called after them, catching sight of the many Enderman wandering around near the pillars. The captain followed close behind, keeping a close eye on Tommy and Tubbo as they traversed the thin bridge to the island. 

“That is...a lot of obsidian,” Fundy went to one of the pillars, his eyes wide as he reached out and touched it. 

“Don’t let your guard down!” Techno warned in a low voice, his tone sharper than usual. “There’s supposed to be some kind of- “ He was cut off as a screeching roar rose up from the center of the island, followed by a blast of purple fire. A clamor of panicked shouting answered it; the others scrambled across the bridge as fast as they dared, ducking behind the pillar as Techno finished what he’d been saying. 

“-Monster.” 

Philza peered around the edge of the pillar, and he froze when he saw what had made the sound - a massive black dragon hovered over the center of the island and its purple eyes were now staring directly at him. 

“RUN!” he shouted, as a blast of fire shot across the island towards him and the others. He jumped back behind the pillar, and the group erupted in panicked confusion as they saw the fire and heard the beating of wings that followed. Techno was the first to regain his composure, grabbing his axe and holding it up so the others could see. 

“We’ll distract the dragon!” he shouted. “Phil, you and Tubbo go find Ranboo!” 

“You got it!”

The piglin ran out into the open and Sam followed, nocking an arrow onto his bow and firing at the dragon while Phil and Tubbo took off around the other side. A firework exploded against the dragon’s back and it let out a roar - Techno’s handiwork, no doubt. Phil found himself grinning at the sight in spite of himself. 

“Stick close to me,” he ordered Tubbo, drawing his sword and spreading his wings to help boost his speed as he ran. Techno had faced terrifying beasts before and lived - with an entire army by his side, he didn’t worry for his old friend’s safety at all. Tubbo struggled to keep up with him, his axe shaking in his hands, but his expression was determined. 

“Wait, there he is! Ranboo!” Philza flared out his wings and slid to a stop in the sand, turning to where Tubbo pointed. 

And there he was. 

Ranboo stood before the short pillar at the center of the End, his eyes pale and unfocused like a candle held behind stained glass. He was surrounded by several endermen, all of which stood perfectly still and stared into the sands around them. 

“That damn thing really does have slaves,” Philza breathed. 

“The dragon’s eyes were purple too,” Tubbo noted. “It’s...the dragon’s possessed Ranboo, just like all these endermen.”

“We need to keep him safe,” Philza said, glancing back at where the others were keeping the beast busy with their arrows and swords. “I think...I think they’re going to have to kill the dragon if we want to save Ranboo.”

“The dragon might try and hurt him if it knows we’ve come for him,” Tubbo said. Phil nodded.

“We need to get him out of the way as much as possible.” The two looked at each other, then started running. They kept their heads low, slipping through the circle of endermen to stand before Ranboo. 

“Ranboo? Minutes-man?” Tubbo spoke quietly, his eyebrows knitted together in concern. The hybrid didn’t move - he continued to stare straight ahead, eyes purple and emotionless. Tubbo jumped up and waved his arms in front of Ranboo’s face, and at last his gaze snapped down to look at him. The boy froze. 

“Uh...Philza?” he squeaked. 

“What?”

“I can’t...move.” Philza blinked; Tubbo was staring directly into Ranboo’s eyes, and Ranboo stared back, though he said nothing and his expression hadn’t changed. 

“That’s a problem,” Phil said. A shriek erupted in the distance and he whirled around; Techno and the others were fighting valiantly, but the dragon, despite all the damage it must’ve taken looked perfectly healthy. Then it soared up towards one of the pillars, where it landed near something that glowed faintly in the dark sky. 

“It’s drawing power from them,” Phil murmured, as Sam took aim at the glowing crystal and fired. The dragon screamed as an explosion rocked through the air, and Tubbo flinched. 

“Are...are they okay?” he asked. “I-I can’t see what’s happening.”

“I think they’re figuring it out,” Philza said with a sigh of relief. 

“That’s great, uh...can you help me now?” Phil turned back to Tubbo, frowned, and held up a wing between him and Ranboo. Nothing happened. 

“Um, what should I do?”

“Could you pull Ranboo away? He’s done this before I think, Puffy told me about it...he eventually just left her alone though. Maybe if you can get his attention away from me, I’ll be able to move again.”

“I can do that...” Phil stepped forward hesitantly, wings shifting back against his shoulders. “Should I just push him aside, then?”

“I guess? Puffy’s problem was a bit different, I’ll admit.” Phil looked at Ranboo again and let out a sigh, then stepped forward and shoved him away from Tubbo as hard as he could. The ender boy’s gaze snapped around toward him, and he ducked his head as Ranboo let out a high-pitched shriek that echoed across the sand. It sounded eerily like the dragon, and the endermen who’d been standing around Ranboo slowly turned around as they heard it. 

Tubbo’s eyes widened at the sight and he lunged forward, tackling Ranboo to the ground while Philza drew his sword and prepared to face his bodyguards. He spread his wings wide to keep himself between the endermen and Tubbo, who he could hear frantically trying to keep Ranboo from killing him and also from getting up at the same time. His eyes darted back and forth - there were too many, there was no way he’d be able to-

“Duck!” shouted a voice behind him, and instinctively Phil dropped to the ground as a bucketfull of water flew over his head, directly into the lineup of endermen that had been surrounding him. The creatures erupted in panicked shrieks, scrambling to get out of the way and disappearing one by one as the water touched them. Seconds later, Philza was alone. He turned around, and found Quackity helping Tubbo pull Ranboo to his feet. 

“Good shot there mate,” he said, and ran over to help them. 

“I think they’ve gotten almost all the crystals,” Quackity said. He sounded out of breath, but the expression on his face was no less determined than before. “We hope that once they’re all broken, the dragon won’t be able to heal.”

“IT’S GOING DOWN!” a shout rose up from the other side of the island, and Philza saw Tubbo’s eyes widen as he looked up into the dark sky above them. 

“Run!” he shouted. 

“We have to get Ranboo away!” Philza’s wings flared outward, boosting him forward as they all started running. 

“Tubbo and I will shield you. Take Ranboo and get the fuck out of here,” Quakcity let go of Ranboo’s arm and Philza grabbed him, wings spreading to their greatest extent. 

“Come get me you son of a bitch!” Quackity’s unholy screeching reverberated against the dark pillars as Phil sprinted across the sand, and Tubbo’s shouting quickly joined him. He may not have been able to fly like he used to, but his wings made him damn quick. The dragon roared and Ranboo struggled to pry himself out of his grip, but Phil held on firmly. 

“I’m not letting go of you, dammit,” he hissed under his breath, dragging Ranboo behind one of the pillars followed by a bright blast of flames. He glanced back at it, eyes widening slightly. “That was...uncomfortably close.” 

“GO GO GO, IT’S LANDED!” Tommy’s voice echoed across the End, followed by the shouts of the others as they closed in around the beast. Philza pulled Ranboo as far behind the pillar as he could - which, with the half-enderman flailing in his arms, wasn’t very far at all. Then the sand caught on his boots and he tripped, sending the two sprawling across the ground. Philza yelped as Ranboo’s claws immediately dug into his wing, tearing out dark feathers in chunks and scattering them on the ground. He pulled his leg back and kicked at the hybrid’s chest, sending him tumbling away. 

Ranboo slid to a stop, then scrambled to his feet. 

“Ranboo, no!” Philza shouted. He jumped up, sprinting after the boy as he started running back towards the dragon. As he got close he lunged and tackled Ranboo to the ground again, and distantly he heard the dragon scream as it rose back into the air. 

“KEEP IT OFF PHIL!” Eret shouted. 

“OVER HERE, YOU BASTARD!” Tommy and Tubbo both started up a racket, banging their weapons against their shields to make the loudest distraction they could - when they saw that it was working, the others quickly joined in as well. The dragon shook its head and let out a roar, and Philza’s heart pounded in his throat as he tried to pull the struggling Ranboo back behind cover. 

Goddammit, it wasn’t working. Ranboo was struggling even more violently than before, and even with his wings Philza wasn’t gaining any ground. The ender boy was going to break free at this rate, and if that happened he’d be dead for sure once that damned dragon got its claws on him. 

Well...there was still one option, one that was guaranteed to work. 

“Fuck...I didn’t want it to come to this, but-” Philza sighed and looked up, locking his eyes on Ranboo’s. 

Ranboo froze. He froze. Phil automatically tried to pull his gaze away; to move his wings, his hands...nothing worked, just like Tubbo had said. He was stuck in place, but on the bright side so was Ranboo. The boy’s eyes shimmered a pale purple, and his expression...was it sad? Phil wasn’t sure. He just knew he couldn’t look away.

They hadn’t made it to the pillar, but hopefully this would be enough to protect him.

Finally, the dragon seemed to be wearing down. Dark blood dripped onto the sand from its sides, and its cries rasped against the dark sky as it slowly circled the End. Despite all their efforts the beast was hunting - Tubbo knew exactly what for, but there was no way in hell he’d let that damned thing find it. 

“Do we know where Ranboo and Philza are?” he asked aloud. Eret appeared from the other side of the pillar they were crouched behind, gesturing to the other side of the island with his axe. 

“They’re over there, but...they’re not moving,” they said almost hesitantly. 

“Wait.” Tubbo’s eyes widened, and he grabbed Eret’s arm. “Can you show me?”

She nodded and led him around the other side, careful not to attract the dragon’s attention while Puffy and Sam fired arrow after arrow into it. 

“There,” Eret said, and pointed. 

“Oh fuck,” Tubbo said softly. 

“What is it? What happened to them?”

“Philza looked into his eyes. Ranboo’s...frozen him in place.” Tubbo looked back at Eret. “We gotta go help him.” The king nodded, readying his axe. 

“I’ll come with you,” they said. Tubbo nodded, and together they started running. The sand slid awkwardly under their feet, and the two kept their eyes downcast to avoid angering the endermen as they ran. Tommy saw Tubbo and started to call out to him, but Tubbo halted and waved his arms at him, shaking his head wildly from side to side. The other boy stopped, and his eyes widened as he looked over at where they were running. He turned back to the dragon, shouting something to the others and redoubling his efforts to keep it occupied. Eret nodded to Tubbo, and they started running again. 

His heart thundered in his chest, but the urgency of the situation drove him to run faster than he ever had before. 

Phil’s wings trembled; his expression looked panicked, but he couldn’t move. 

They were almost there-

A roar rose up through the void, crackling across the sky like lightning. 

“LOOK BEHIND YOU!” Philza shouted, followed by the desperate screams of the others from across the End. Tubbo and Eret turned, their eyes widening in horror - the dragon was flying directly towards them, its purple eyes narrowed in rage. It opened its mouth, and Tubbo froze as Eret flung herself in front of him; between the fireball and Philza and Ranboo, their shield held high over their head. 

“ERET NO!” 

A bright purple explosion sent him flying into the sand; Tubbo heard shouting - a lot of shouting, and there was sand in his mouth and his eyes and he couldn’t see. His blood pounded in his ears and he struggled to right himself, hands shaking as he lurched to his knees in the sand. The first thing he saw was Phil standing in front of him, battered wings spread to their widest extent. His crossbow was aimed at the dragon, though before he could fire it the creature let out one last scream, and a purple explosion erupted from its body. Tubbo froze at the sight of the horrible fireworks display, and the crossbow Philza had been holding landed in the sand with a dull thud.

“Oh...oh God.” 

“Ranboo!” Tubbo tore his gaze away from the glowing sky, but the happy greeting died in his throat as he turned. 

Oh God. 

Ranboo was on his knees in the sand, cradling Eret’s head in his claws. The king was barely breathing, and their eyes were closed. The ender boy looked dazed and scared, and his eyes were wide as he stared at Eret’s burnt face. Tubbo scrambled over to his side, though he knew there wasn’t anything he could do. 

Eret coughed, winced, and opened her eyes. “Hey Ranboo,” he rasped, and smiled. Their eyes were glassy with pain. “Glad you’re here again.”

“Did I...did I do this?” Ranboo whispered, looking frantically to Tubbo. He didn’t move, still frozen by what had just happened. Eret shook their head, then winced again. 

“Not your fault,” she said quietly. “It was worth it anyways.”

The End was horribly quiet. The endermen had all disappeared in the explosion, the dragon was gone, and nobody spoke. Tubbo looked up and found the others standing around him; Tommy pushed through the group to kneel beside him, putting an arm on Ranboo’s shoulder. 

“He saved you and Philza,” he said. For once, his voice was gentle. Ranboo looked at them, and there were tears in his eyes. 

“I...I don’t know what happened,” he said hoarsely. 

Then Eret was gone. Ranboo let out a shout as their body dissolved into smoke, and Tubbo put a hand on his other shoulder. 

“She has two lives left,” he said gently. “It’s...it’ll be alright, minutes man.”

“He just...he just died...” Ranboo stared at his shaking hands for a long time, before he finally looked up at Tubbo. “Can...can we go home?” he asked in a small voice. Tubbo nodded; the ender boy looked up and found Philza standing above him, one hand reaching forward to help him up. 

“Let’s go home,” he said. Ranboo took his hand, and Tommy and Tubbo stood with him to face those who had come to help. Tubbo nodded to Quackity. 

“Thank you,” he said. “For setting your quarrels aside to help.”

“You’re my friend,” Quackity said. “Like I said before - Ranboo may not be my friend, but if he matters to you, that’s enough for me.” Tubbo nodded. 

“I appreciate it,” he said. “And all the rest of you too,” he added, raising his voice so the others could hear. “Thank you - all of you, for helping us.”

“I think we can get back here,” Puffy called to the group from the central pillar of the island. A dark swirling portal had appeared there, and it looked exactly the same as the one they’d used to come in. Phil and Techno exchanged glances across the small crowd, then nodded. 

“I’ll go first,” Tommy volunteered. “I ain’t no pussy.” That earned a few laughs out of the others, and even a shaky smile from Ranboo. He stepped up to the edge, turned around to salute to Phil, and jumped in. Tubbo followed, stepping in after as the others lined up in front of it. Phil wrapped a wing around Ranboo, and the boy leaned against him as they waited their turn to go in. Sam motioned for them to go ahead of him when he got to the front, and Phil gave him a grateful look as he and Ranboo went through.

The sound of bats had never been more welcome to him in his life. 

#dsmp au #dsmp #dream smp #dsmp fanfic #dream smp fanfic #myct #philza #technoblade #tubbo #ranboo #the eret #tommyinnit #quackity #minecraftdream

[mirageofthecrystal]

FFxiv 30 Day Writing Challenge - Day 15: Thunderous

thunderous (adjective)

relating to or giving warning of thunder.

very loud.

very powerful or intense.

Faiolan stood before Brande, who looked over his pupil with a critical eye. Just beyond this chamber awaited the impatient spectators of the Bloodsands, wishing to witness an exciting bout play out before them, where the winners were not only those who excelled in combat, but those who properly placed their bets. And it was the duty of men and women such a Brande, who drilled and trained the next generation of combatants, to ensure each fight was just as thrilling as the last.

"I hope yer ready for this, boy, and that you remember ye aren't goin' out to fight like some hoity-toity knight. Yer a gladiator now, which means ye'll use whatever ye have to to come out on top. They've got high hopes for ye out there. Put you up against a real bastard of a fighter, a Sea Wolf called Silver Hill. Takes his name quite literally, decked in shinin' silver armor and about the size of a small bloody hill too. Favors the hammer of all things, and the one he's got is about the same size as he is. One wrong move, and he'll splatter ye into a puddle o' yer own blood 'n' guts. Every bone in yer body'll be like dust, yer organs vaporized into liquid, yer skin keeping it all in a neat little sack so it's that much easier to clean up when yer done. I've seen 'im fight once or twice before this, and that's all it took: one strike, and the fight was over. But yer light on yer feet. I'd say ditch the shield, since the damn thing won't do you any good anyhow. Best to be quick with that blade of yers. Probably go for the legs, slow 'im down. This'll be a battle of attrition. Every swing o' that big hammer's gotta take a lot of energy, and so long as you dance around him, ye shouldn't have a problem. And if ye DO have a problem... I'll make sure they name the stain after ye."

"Not much of a pep talk," Faiolan lamented, but Brande was done speaking his piece. "At the very least try not to embarrass me. No gladiator I have ever trained has lost their first match. Do not be the one to break that streak." With nothing left to say between them, Brande departed to spectate the match, leaving Faiolan a moment to prepare himself. He left behind his shield, checked that his armor was closely fitted and properly secured. He checked the sharpness of his blade, and when the portcullis at the end of the passage began to rise, he marched toward the growing light and the thunderous cheers.

The sound of the crowd was almost deafening as the sound of their screams broke upon his ears. His heart raced wildly in his chest, and even moreso when his opponent came upon to the field opposite of he. Silver Hill was indeed a towering figure, and Faiolan wondered if perhaps he was the child of an actual mountain and would eventually grow into one himself. Some in the stands exploded into ferocious praise at his approach, but there too were those who endeavored to see the new blood of Brande's win the day. They were both announced, but Faiolan's focus was on his opponent. He heard their names from above, but heeded not what else was said. He drew his sword, Hill hefted that hammer of his, and the two faced one another. Sand crunched beneath Faiolan's feet, reminding him somewhat of the Coerthan snows. With a bloodcurdling roar better fit for a beast, Silver Hill charged with hammer in hand... and was surprisingly fast for someone of his size.

Faiolan's surprise at this almost cost him the fight. He jumped to the side at the very last moment, Silver Hill bringing the hammer down into the ground. A burst of sand flew up from the impact where a moment before stood the Elezen. With incredibly strength and dexterity, Silver Hill hefted the hammer back up and swung wide, Faiolan jumping back and out of the second strike. One wrong move, Brande had said, and the battle was over.

Getting behind Silver Hill seemed to be the best plan, but the way the Roegadyn swung his weapon with reckless abandon, that seemed impossible. No amount of maneuvering seemed to provide an opening, and Faiolan did more dodging than anything else. And therein lay the key that Brande had hinted at earlier: to wait for Silver Hill to tire himself out. The best defense was an onslaught of offense for this particular fighter, and Faiolan only needed patience.

He envisioned Silver Hill as a dragon, a lumbering hulk of a thing with its claws seeking to tear flesh from bone and leave nothing behind to bury. Deftly dodging each assault meant that he would survive for another moment, bringing him closer to victory inch by inch. To the crowd, however, it seemed more of a dance than a fight, with Silver Hill providing all the entertainment and anticipation of a soon-to-be squashed opponent.

At last, Faiolan saw his opponent falter, albeit slightly. As his hammer came crashing into the wall behind Faiolan, his strength slipped for a mere second. Before he could retrieve the weapon and resume the attack, Faiolan slipped past him and slashed at the back of his left. With another tug of the hammer, Silver Hill pulled it free, but the exertion and weight of his weapon caused his knee to give out. Faiolan slashed again, this time at the other leg, but was beaten back again when Silver Hill threw his weight behind the hammer so thoroughly that the blow spun him around, the hammer making a full revolution that came but a hair too close for Faiolan's liking. Silver Hill was not deterred, for now he knew the Elezen's strategy. It took a very precise slash to strike at the weak points of his armor and the back of his legs, and he had suffered far more dire wounds.

However, both Faiolan and the crowd saw that despite Silver Hill's adrenaline driving him to stand and resume fighting with familiar fervor, his movements were much slower. He was struggling to force his legs forward and back, to and fro. Thus began again the dodging dance, though Faiolan was occasionally offered the opportunity for a quick slash at the side, or a thrust at an arm outstretched in overreach. Silver Hill grew more and more furious, allowing him to further ignore the wounds that were beginning to stain his armor with blood. Another successful strike, yet another slash that would be death by a thousand cuts, and Silver Hill's rage reached its apex. He launched the hammer through the air at Faiolan, the Elezen easily moving out of the way, only to experience the anger of Silver Hill firsthand.

Weaponless, Silver Hill used his fists instead, smashing one great blow into the side of Faiolan's head that sent the Elezen reeling. His sword dropped him his hand as the world around him spun out of control. It was not a deathblow by the hammer, but it was quite a formidable strike. Another wave of cheers and applause from the camp of Silver Hill, while those who had gil riding on Faiolan's victor clenched their teeth and jumped up from their seats. He recovered from the blow, but Silver Hill quickly landed another against his chest, robbing him of the air from his lungs. He caught sight of his sword, just out of reach. He had no hope of standing up to Silver Hill at his own game, for it would be as futile as punching an actual hillock.

Silver Hill drove him backward, striking several more times and almost removing Faiolan from the fight. He must have cracked a rib or two by now, his head throbbed, and blocking the blows were akin to a hammer striking an anvil, if that anvil were made of flesh and bone. Silver Hill delivered quite the haymaker, and Faiolan dropped to the ground to avoid it. This seemed to place him in a position most precarious, on the ground and at the mercy of Silver Hill. Silver Hill hefted himself upward, breathing deeply of anticipated victory before bringing down a pair of mighty fists. Faiolan rolled out of the way, swiping his sword from the sand after strategically falling to the ground just beside it. Silver Hill's fists slammed into the dirt, allowing Faiolan to jump to his feet, drive the blade through the back of Silver Hill's knee. He pulled the blade free, but Silver Hill was still intent on fighting. Faiolan responded by stabbing him through the inside of the elbow where was left space between armored plates so the arm could bend. Silver Hill swung his other arm vainly, but Faiolan stepped back a single step to avoid, bringing the blade at last to rest at his opponent's throat. And just like that, he had won his first match upon the Bloodsands. The first of many battles to be fought for the glory and gil of those whom believed themselves his betters.

#ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2021 #ffxiv crystal #ffxiv mateus #ffxiv rp #ffxiv roleplay #ffxiv blogging #faiolan penderghast #gladiator #elezen #ffxiv

[elexica]

Second Chance Christmas  {{ December 21 }}

Christmas tree shopping, ornament making, and decorating reveal some unresolved feelings...

The rest of the chapter after the break:

The door slammed open, clattering against the wall harshly.  Kaiba blinked in the bright light from the hallway, headache blooming at his forehead.

“Atticus wants you to come shopping for a Christmas tree.”  Joey announced, slamming a thermos of coffee and a small bottle of Tylenol on the side table.  The clattering noise was calibrated to exacerbate Kaiba’s hangover, and from the way his eyes squeezed shut, it worked.  “You left some stuff, I stuck it in the guest room closet, so help yourself.”

Joey tried to lower his voice as deeply as possible, make it sound as truly menacing as he could, but the follow up sentence, “Waffles are ready,” just didn’t sound very scary.

For his part, Kaiba just rubbed at his eyes.

When Kaiba rolled into the kitchen forty-five minutes later, he looked completely put together.  The picture of a man who could compartmentalize absolutely everything that had ever happened to him.

As he wandered toward the plate of waffles, Joey could feel the ghost of years past.  Of Seto wandering over, pecking a kiss to his cheek on his way to the coffee machine.

Instead he watched his ex-husband greet the kids and collect the plate set out for him at the counter.  Just the waffle and a bit of butter—no syrup, nothing sweet.  Kaiba sliced into the waffle surgically, and swallowed a small bite of it.  From the look on his face, he was too hungover and sick to really eat.

“Tell your Oto-san to eat his breakfast,” Joey said, pouring a glass of orange juice on the corner of the counter.

Kaiba sent Joey a death glare as Atticus announced that he had just the song.  As Atticus launched into the highly repetitive “Breakfast Song”—an independent composition—Kaiba winced as if he had taken a thousand life points of damage in a shadow game.

The thermos of coffee stayed in Kaiba’s hand as he wove through the driveway.  One of his cars had been left at the house—a black Mercedes that he had no real attachment to.  Kaiba must have tracked down the spare key from the hooks on the wall of the garage.  Kaiba was looking back towards the garage, as if he had a say in the matter.

Joey honked the horn of the minivan, startling his ex-husband and drawing another full body flinch from the man.

“I’m not movin’ Alexis’ car seat! Get in.”  Joey shouted out the window.  Kaiba revived his glare, only to lose it to a frustrated wince as Joey slammed on the horn again.

Kaiba froze, coffee “I swear,” Kaiba said, his voice menacing.  “She’s six, she doesn’t need a car seat.”

“Look, it’s a height thing now.  Ya can’t fire me, Kaiba, so unless ya got other plans, get in the car.”  He punctuated this demand with another ear-scorching honk.

Grasping at the last threads of his dignity, Kaiba straightened his back, schooled his face with as much focus as he could bear, and strode over to the minivan door.

Kaiba flung it open with a theatrical flair that would be more appropriate on a blimp than a minivan.

Joey opened his mouth to deliver an admittedly tepid comment—he was thinking “look who decided to join us”—but he was silenced by the kids cheering when Kaiba sat down in the car.

“Oto-san, can we listen to the Chipmunks Christmas?!” Atticus pleaded from the backseat.  

Joey didn’t bother holding back laughter and Kaiba clenched his jaw and nodded.

. . .

The adventure at the Christmas Tree farm started relatively smooth and uneventful.  Atticus and Alexis were good kids, even if Atticus could be a little loud and demanded a lot of attention, and Alexis was a bit shy.

For his part, Kaiba did an excellent job of standing and observing the process.  With stoicism, he posed at the back of the family and watched as Joey picked a tree, earned the approval of the kids, and tried to chop it down with the farm-provided axe on his own.

Tree chopping was harder than anticipated, and Joey’s struggles were equal parts frustrating and humiliating.

Kaiba couldn’t hold back a snicker, about 15 minutes into Joey’s battle with the tree.   But that was his miscalculation: the perfect opening for Joey to shoot back, “You think yer so strong, pretty boy?  Give it a go.”  And Joey all but tossed the axe in his ex’s direction.  Joey could have used a better, safer and more careful form when he handed his ex-husband the axe, but he was trying to catch his breath, and the haughty bastard had goaded him with that laugh.  Kaiba caught it easily anyway.

“Step back,” Seto announced, as if he was about to perform a magic trick.  The rest of the family formed a slightly more distant semi-circle.

Kaiba posed, axe high behind his back.  He made brief eye-contact with Joey before hefting a massive swing. The arc was long and graceful, and bit into the tree-bark savagely.  It took Joey’s four-inch indent and turned it into eight-inches, fully three-quarters of the way through the tree.

Kaiba smiled, pleased with his work.

“Alright,” Joey offered after a few seconds.  “Now, you pull it out.”  Joey resisted making any further innuendoes in front of the kids.

Kaiba nodded and reached for the axe.  It didn’t budge.  He adjusted his feet in the snow to gain more purchase—to no avail.  He lodged one foot against the tree, and still the leverage was insufficient.  It was as if the tree had accepted the axe as a new branch, and wouldn’t let go.

Kaiba pulled out his phone and started tapping.

“You lookin’ up how to get an axe out of a tree?” Joey challenged.

“No.”

“Oh my god are you trying to buy a better axe? And have it air dropped or something?”

Kaiba’s clever, snarky glance up from his phone told Joey exactly everything he didn’t need to know.  “Would the children have any interest in owning a Christmas tree farm?”

“No!” Joey jumped over, moving to try and steal back Kaiba’s phone before he could pull whatever insane business move required to buy out the family-owned farm.

Kaiba had been a capable “keep-away” player for decades, and hadn’t seemed to allow his skills to get rusty in the intervening period.

Joey still had some signature moves—and certainly could have brought the taller man to his knees if he had a yo-yo on him.

As it stood, the side tackle that Joey settled on was perfectly effective.  They rolled in the snow a bit, Kaiba able to twirl and pass the phone between his hands deftly and Joey ready to brute force the situation.  He had no qualms with getting snow in his ex-husband’s hair or up his nose.

What was surprising was when Kaiba stopped fighting.  He had been pinned down pretty well, back digging into snow, wrists held by Joey’s determined fingers as if handcuffed over his head, flakes stuck to his eyelashes and drenching his scarf.  Joey had one knee jamming Kaiba’s thighs into the ground.

Joey paused with those hands in his vice grip, feeling Kaiba’s muscles relax under his hands. The palms were facing him, and they were empty.  The only metal that Joey could see was the one thing he had longed to forget—Kaiba was still wearing his wedding ring.

“Is that?” Joey asked softly.

Kaiba had been baring a smug smile at Joey, confident in his plan to abscond with the phone—even in the compromised position.  That smile vanished at Joey’s question.

“I didn’t want to field any questions as to whether we were… I wanted it to be clear that we’re both their dads.”  Kaiba should have blushed, but he didn’t.  Instead he looked wild and scared, like he had been caught in a terrible lie.

Joey drew a slow breath, processing the information as the ice melted on Kaiba’s face.

“Oto-san!  I got the phone!” Atticus cheered, waving the slim black device in the air, instantly breaking the tension.

“Excellent execution,” Kaiba said, moving one powerful thigh to dislodge Joey’s entire hold.  He went tumbling back into the snow, and Kaiba stood up and straightened himself.  He held out his hand expectantly, and Atticus handed him the phone.

“How attached are you to this specific tree?” Kaiba asked Alexis, with the same intensity he would levy a question at a board meeting.

With the same seriousness that Kaiba had summoned, Alexis responded ,“I have no attachment to this tree.”

“Atticus?”

The boy shrugged.  Kaiba nodded.  “Then we will acquire another tree by alternative means.”  Kaiba tapped at the screen a few times.  “Any objections?”

This question was directed at Joey who also shrugged.  Joey eyed the axe, buried deep in the trunk of the tree.  It was not promising.

“What’s next on the holiday itinerary?” Kaiba asked, as if he was going to complete the Christmas activity list with the same ruthless efficiency he took to the business world.

“Decorating ornaments.”

. . .

It’s not just that it was fun to watch Kaiba struggle with things—though Joey thought it usually was—but his ex-husband, eyes narrowed in concentration, brows strung in frustration, long fingers dripping golden glitter glue…

Joey could have laughed the entire time.

Atticus had nicely decorated a music note.  He had diligently written the year and his name and his age on the thin piece of wood, and then doodled colorful lines around it.  Alexis had decorated a ballet slipper with surprisingly delicate shading and the same information.

Joey was relatively pleased with his own decoration: a nicely colored-in icon of the Time Wizard, with the same information.  He had hesitated to put his age, but it was tradition, and Alexis would surely bust him for breaking the rules.

But Kaiba had to be ambitious.  Usually his abilities could keep up with his formidable plans.  But this year’s image of the Thousand Dragon had not gone according to plan.  He had foolishly done the Blue Eyes White Dragon for the first year, and burned through it’s permutations by the time they finalized the divorce.

The underlying coloring wasn’t terrible—and the silhouette of a dragon was distinct enough that he couldn’t quite make it unrecognizable.  But the glitter glue gambit hadn’t paid off.  Instead of an extra level of pizazz, the glue had chemically interacted with the ink of the pens underneath.

Like a craft drawer Icarus that had flown too close to the sun, the careful coloring underneath melted into an absolute mess, blurring the relevant information, as well as the face of the dragon.  The whole work turned into a muddled, blotchy, glittering thing.  Yellows and marigolds combining to look more like a splotchy watercolor, but it lacked intention or grace.

Joey’s smile was wide and his jaw was clenched from the effort of not laughing at Kaiba’s very sad ornament.  “You can go back to the craft store and get a new blank one,” Joey managed to eek out, with only minimal giggles spilling into his speech.

“It’s…” Kaiba pushed at the glue with a sticky fingertip, as if he could reset the colors by sheer force of will.  “I will… write the information the back.”  Kaiba flipped the ugly ornament directly on the disposable plastic table cover, glitter glue oozing out.  He wrote his name in Japanese characters, and the date.

“It doesn’t look like a dragon, Oto-san,” Atticus protested.  “You have to try again!”

Kaiba nodded, and affixed two googly eyes to the head.

Joey completely lost it at the plain wooden outline of a dragon, wings stretched, blank except for the name, date, and age on it’s belly, glitter glue leaking from under it, as if wounded, and two plastic google eyes quivering as the table shook with his laughter.

Joey thought he spotted a soft smile on Kaiba’s face, but by the time he caught his breath again, it was gone.

. . .

Joey tried to push down the warmth in his chest that swelled when he saw Kaiba wrapped around the tree, diligently stringing holiday lights.  True to his word, he had an assistant from Kaiba Corp. USA’s New York branch sent out on an emergency hunt for the perfect tree.  Without much thought, by the time the family had made it home from the Upstate adventure and trip to the craft store, a tree was already staged in their house—perfectly conical and even.  As flawless as plastic, but full of that distinct pine scent.

Putting lights on the tree had been an intuitively “Kaiba” sort of activity.  He was taller, more electrically inclined, and better suited to the less nostalgic Christmas elements.  Although Joey had handled the task just fine, Kaiba’s persnickety nature did contribute to him spreading the lights evenly and nicely.  It was sort of frustrating for Joey to see the lights look so smooth and flawlessly distributed.  Especially when two years ago they had looked so uneven.

The off-year, when Kaiba had the kids for the winter holiday, Joey hadn’t bothered with any of his own decorations.  He had just visited his sister’s place, skyped with the kids, and moped.  He’d fallen asleep watching “Elf” alone on the couch.  It ranked high on his list of worst Christmases ever.  

Joey wondered a little, while Seto fought with the fragrant pine-needle branches, whether this would top the list of worst holidays.  Somehow, already, it didn’t feel like a bad holiday at all.

Joey held out a warm mug to Seto, once his task was finished.  It was one of the older ones, white with that navy-blue KC logo imprinted, but faded over the years.  

Kaiba raised his hand to reject the offering.  “I’m avoiding processed sugars. Last night was an exception, not the rule.”

Joey rolled his eyes.  “Trust me, if you’re going to sit through any of tonight’s concert, you’ll appreciate the… heh… innovation.”

With a skeptical look at the hot chocolate and half-melted marshmallows, Kaiba reluctantly accepted the mug.  He took a slow sip, before his eyebrows raised, recognizing the heroic volume of Baileys that had been surreptitiously mixed in.  Kaiba nodded in approval.  “I stand corrected.”

Indeed, the adulterated cocoa was fully drained over the course of Atticus’s hour long performance of every Christmas song he knew, plus a few piano remixes of various children’s show theme songs, and an original composition which was actually just smashing on the keys and smiling.

Kaiba remained steadfastly bound to the couch while Joey and Alexis actually placed all of the ornaments, whispering about what should go where.  A few times, Joey looked over, just to see if Kaiba had left.  Instead, he stayed, eyes darkened by some unknowable emotion.  When the concert was over, and Joey and Alexis’s task was finally complete, the three stepped back to turn off the overhead lights and bask in the eclectic glory of the tree.

Only then had Kaiba vanished.

. . .

Joey wandered into Kaiba’s study.  After the last night’s stunt, he expected to see the decanter open on the coffee table.

Instead, Kaiba was illuminated by his laptop, the rhythm of his typing on the keyboard sounding just a little like music.  “What do you want?” Kaiba asked, not looking up from his computer.

“I—” Joey shrugged, flopping down on the chair opposite Kaiba.  “I want to talk, I guess.”  

“About what?” Kaiba asked, though it didn’t quite come out like a question.  There was not a hint of curiosity in his voice.

“Us.”  Joey looked over at Kaiba.  “You’re wearing the ring, Kaiba.” Kaiba looked down at his own hand, as if he had forgotten that he’d put it on and failed to take it off.

“Yeah.  And we were outside: there’s no blizzard anymore, Kaiba.  It blew over last night.  I’m no meteorologist, but you’re definitely cleared to fly.”  Joey placed his hands on his hips, pleased with his own argument.

“The ring was unrelated,” Kaiba said, emotionless, glued to the computer screen.  Joey rolled his eyes.  “And the children have expressed that they’d like me to stay for the holiday.  If you will not allow me to, that is a different matter.”

“Of course you can stay, but we need to talk about us.  What’s going on here, Kaiba?”

“You’ve made it clear, enough times, that you don’t want me, not in the way that I want you,” Kaiba added, typing speed not diminished in the slightest.  “None of that has changed, like you said.  And so I don’t know why you are bothering me, now.”

Jou shifted slightly in his chair, his stomach tuning over.  Sitting next to Kaiba hadn’t given him this sort of anxiety for so long, maybe ever.  He was used to hot anger, coursing through his veins, pooling in his fists.  This uneasy détente felt simultaneously unsustainable and like the exact tar pit they’d been drowning in for the last three years.

“I don’t know that I meant that.  I mean, yeah, in the moment, I meant it.  But,” Joey leaned back, trying to reposition himself so that he might be more comfortable.  There didn’t seem to be any decent way to sit in his own damn chair.  “But it doesn’t mean, you really didn’t change at all.  A little.  Or that you couldn’t change… enough.”

Kaiba’s typing speed finally slowed, acquiescing to the intensity of the conversation.  Frankly, as Kaiba drew one hand to seal the lid of his laptop, Joey was willing to call that a change.  He hadn’t even had to literally ask Kaiba to stop working.  “Jounouchi.  Tell me what you want to hear.”

“Fine.” Joey straightened his shoulders.  “I want to know what happened when you went back to Domino.”

There was a long pause.

“I stayed on Mokuba’s couch for three months.” Kaiba crossed his arms defensively.

Joey burst out with warm laughter.  Kaiba didn’t blush, but he raised an eyebrow, as if to signal his ex-husband was not being the image of social grace.  Maybe he’d forgotten to whom he was married.

“And how’d he like that?” Joey said as his breathing steadied.

“He liked it fine.  He has always appreciated my cooking.  His fiancé did not.”

And like that, Joey was lost in another cacophony of giggles.  “Why didn’t you go back to the manor?”

Kaiba looked away, suddenly fascinated by the crystal decanter that had returned to the end table.  “It was… uncomfortable, after all this time.  After Mokuba’s partner made her opinion clear—”

“God, I can only imagine what the arguments were like,” Joey smiled again, bright as sunshine.

“It was not pleasant.  Obviously, my brother and I are still very close, but there were certain problems that arose—”

Joey leaned back in the chair, and balanced his feet on the coffee table.  To the untrained observer, it could have been mistaken for casual.  But all of the muscles of his legs were tense, the tendons that collided with the table strung like the strong of a bow.  “I bet I can guess: you show up at 2 am, you make whatever noise you’re gonna make with no regard for anyone sleeping, you sleep in all day after a couple of all-nighters unpredictably—”

“Yes,” Kaiba said, his voice somewhat soured.  “Everything that you hate about me, unsurprisingly was also loathsome to Yui.”

“That’s not… Kaiba its not things I hate about you,” Joey shifted again in the chair, picking at his nailbeds.  He looked as if he had been called into the principal’s office again after a fight.  “It’s shit that you do, that you choose to do, that’s disrespectful to the people around you.  I’m glad to hear that Yui didn’t take it.”

“After a time, you didn’t either, right?”  Kaiba responded, the sadness seeping in a little.  From the longing glance he shot at the whiskey, the allure of the crystal decanter was strong; the urge to not deal with his ex-husband in this mood, fully sober, was perhaps stronger.

But there was something about Joey’s words that seemed to put up a forcefield around the bottle.  “But it doesn’t mean, you really didn’t change at all.  A little.  Or that you couldn’t change… enough.”

Joey rolled his eyes, pressing fast-forward on the tired argument.  “That wasn’t all of it, and we both know that you know better.  But just tell me what else happened.”

Kaiba’s sour expression and defensive posture continued.  “After that, I got an apartment near the office.  I only used the manor in the Summer, when the children came to visit.”  Kaiba eyed that bottle once more.  “It was disconcerting to be there alone.  I thought… that this is what he must have… felt like.”

As if saying his name would have brought him into their life, awakened some other dormant form of him trapped between this world and the Hell he so surely belonged in.

They sat there, soaking in the ghosts of the past a little longer.  Joey wasn’t going to say anything to break the silence—he knew from experience that with enough stubbornness, Seto would eventually be forced to say something to change the subject or actually talk about his feelings.

After just a couple of minutes, Joey was proven right.

“Are you really happy working at the daycare?” Kaiba asked.

“How did you—” It was only natural that Kaiba would have Joey at a loss again.

“Yugi is a game developer, you know that he collaborates with Kaiba Corp.  We talk… sometimes,” Kaiba said, feigning nonchalance.  It was not persuasive.  Kaiba’s intensity for everything was too strong.  Joey was quite certain he’d never had a casual interest in his entire life.

“Yeah.  Things are good,” Joey answered the original question.

Kaiba nodded at the input and reopened the laptop.  The glare illuminated the wire framed lenses, hiding any expression within his eyes.  “I’m getting back to work.”

Joey considered putting up a fight.  But it had been a long enough day.  In a move reminiscent of his ex, he rose from his seat wordlessly and went his own way.

#Kaiba Seto #seto kaiba #Jounouchi Katsuya #Joey Wheeler #violetshipping #puppyshipping #yugioh #fanfiction #crossposted on ao3

[creator-zee]

187

       The dress may have once been nice, but now it was soaking wet, clinging to the girls skin, and covered in mud. The girl - or woman more accurately - who was wearing it, wasn’t in much better shape. Her hair was matted, her face was splattered with mud, her fleet were bloody and she was exhausted. Struggling, as she pushed her tired body further up the steep mountain path. If it could even be called the. The path was only used by animals, few humans ever daring to climb this mountain. They knew the legends that told of a dangerorus monster at the top of the mountain. Some claimed it was a dragon, others a powerful witch. No one really knew, since no one returned. 

        That may have been the reason others stayed away, but that was the reason that Rene was struggling to climb the mountain. Eventually the path began to level out and she saw a gentle trail of smoke rising in the distance, a fire. 

        She stumbled and fell, crying out in pain. She heard a dull thud, and when she next looked up, a towering figure stood in front of her. With the sun behind them she couldn’t make anything but their silhouette out, it was winged. It was the monster.

         “Please, please kidnap me.” She pleaded, her voice weak and sore.

        Fully prepared to tear the random girl a new one, the monster paused, surprised. 

        “Sorry, what?” She asked, completely taken off guard.

         “Kidnap me...” The girl pleaded once again, her voice still barely there, raspy, probably due to a parched throat.

         Tiera paused, looking down at the disheveled figure. She couldn’t just leave her here. She crouched and picked up the (surprisingly light) surprise guest carrying further down the trail to where she made a cave her home. The stranger was freezing cold and shivering. Tiera instinctively pulled her closer, using her own body heat to warm the stranger. 

        Tiera shouldered open the door to the cave. It was a lot less evil dragon lair and a lot more cozy home than Rene had been expecting, at least what she saw as she struggled to fight off unconsciousness. Tiera noticed the strangers eyes beginning to drop.

        “Come on, stay awake.” She urges gently as she lay the stranger down next to the fire pit. “Tell me your name.”

         “Rene.” Rene grunted. 

         “Ok Rene, stay with me.” Tiera urged, as she briefly turned away to light the fire with a breath. 

           “Woah...” Rene muttered.

           “I need to get you out of these wet clothes.” Tiera told Rene, giving her warning before she began peeling the wet cloth off Rene. Rene was too out of it, as exhaustion and hypothermia caught up to her, to really understand totally what was going on.

         Tiera set the wet dress to dry by the fire, and grabbed a cloth and some spare clothes. She carefully cleaned Rene off, before redressing her. She noticed that her feet were completely torn up, from her complete lack of shoes. Tiera got up again to grab some bandages and carefully cleaned and bandaged the girl’s feet. Realizing that she had just laid the girl on the hard ground, Tiera fetched several blankets and laid the girl on a couple before wrapping one around her. 

      At some point, despite Tiera’s muttering, the girl had fallen unconscious. Tiera just hoped that she would wake back up again. Instead of worrying, she focused on cleaning up, even taking the time to wash the girl’s dress before hanging it to dry. Once the dress was clean it really was impressive, slightly ruined, yes, but it was exquisitely made. Whoever this Rene girl was, she came from money. That just led to more questions. Tiera couldn’t understand why a girl would go to such lengths to escape from what was probably a luxurious life. 

       She glanced again at the, now lightly snoring, stranger. She wouldn’t get any answers until she woke up. She would just have to wait until then. 

187.1

        Rene woke up wrapped in soft blankets. She sighed. That meant that the frantic escape and the oddly caring monster (that breathed fire?) was all a dream. She sighed, rolling to her back and looking up. To see a stone ceiling illuminated unevenly by flames. Okay... so not a dream. 

       Rene pushed herself and began looking around the room. It was like she remembered, cozy. She was laid in front of the fireplace, but there was a bed by one wall closer to the door. It had been stripped of blankets. The door itself was part of a wooden wall that separated the cave from the outside. On the same wall as the bed there was a shelf further down. The shelf had a variety of herbs, food and bottles on it. In the opposite wall there was a small armory, swords, daggers, axes, bows, armor. 

       It was slightly intimidating, but not as much as the large figure who just walked in the door, carrying a large piles of wood. She knew, logically, that they had taken care of her, but still... they were huge, and had wings, and could breathe fire.

       “Oh, you’re awake.” The monster said, surprised. “Good.”

       They moved to the back of the cave, adding the firewood to the pile, while Rene just sat, frozen, knees pulled to her chest. As the monster stood again, she realized that they were very much a she and that she wasn’t wearing anything on her upper half except a cloth wrap that wound around their chest. With the way it had to wrap around her wings, it covered a decent amount of her chest, but left her abs, and arms bare. Damn she was hot. Since when were monsters allowed to be hot.

       Rene next had the realization that she was not in her own clothes. She faintly remembered the monster saying she had to take her clothes off because they were wet. She then realized that the minister had seen her naked, and a fierce blush took over her face.

       Tiera stood nearby, waiting for the girl to process. She has seen Rene’s eyes scan over her body, but assumed it was because of the wings and scales. She only got worried when she suddenly flushed bright red.

        “Are you okay?” She asked, worriedly. “Are you too hot? I’m sorry I’m not good with temperatures.”

        “No - uh - no it’s fine. It’s good. It’s great. You’re just, uh, you don’t have a shirt...” Rene stammered, trailing off.

         “What? Oh... sorry.” Tiera apologized, but quickly grabbed a shirt from a chest at the end of her bed and pulled it on, struggling to get her wings to fit through two slits in the back. This was why she generally avoided shirts. But, she didn’t want to make her guest uncomfortable.

         “Would you, um, why are you here?” Tiera asked, coming off more blunt than she meant to be.

         Rene sighed, pulling her knees closer to her chest. “My dad sold me away to a foreign kingdom’s prince. Not as a wife, but as a, as a- “ Rene choked on her words, unable to continue, but Tiera got the idea.

         “Stop you don’t have to go on.” Tiera assured the girl, who had tears running freely down her face. “You can stay here. I just can’t promise it’ll be as nice as wherever you came from.”

        “Really?” Rene asked, surprised by her kindness.

        Tiera nodded. 

         “Umm. What’s your name?” Rene asked, slightly awkwardly. “I keep calling you ‘the monster’ in my head, but that doesn’t seem fitting.”

        Tiera chuckled. “It’s pretty fitting, but my name is Tiera.”

         Rene gave Tiera a questioning look. “Last time I checked monsters don’t save random damsels in distress and give them a place to stay.”

         Tiera shrugged. “You should probably drink something and eat something.”

         She lifted a canteen off a hook and handed it to Rene. “I’ll be back soon. Don’t go anywhere.

           “Where are you going?” Rene asked, as Tiera grabbed a bow and quiver off the wall. 

           “Hunting.” Tiera said with a slightly unnerving grin that made Rene wonder what she was hunting. 

          Tiera left as she settled the quiver on her back between her wings. She stretched them, wincing as the fabric of the shirt slightly restricted her movement. Stupid clothing. She grumbled about it as she took off, gliding over the forest searching for prey. She wasn’t worried about Rene. No one would get past her spells without her knowing, so unless Rene did something stupid inside she would be fine. 

        God she was so dumb to take a human girl in. Well, not a girl really, they were probably the same age, but she was so small and fragile. Humans were so fragile. They didn’t have scales, most of them didn’t know how to use magic, and they were so sensitive to temperature. But, she couldn’t just turn her away and leave her to die. 

        Tiera sighed as she saw a deer below her. She would chastise herself for poor decisions later, right now, she had to hunt. She focused on the lithe beast below her, flying lower, following the deer above, near silently. With practiced motions Tiera nocked an arrow, drew back, paused for the barest hint of a moment and released the string with a twang. By the time the deer reacted it was already too late, the arrow and hid its mark, the deer fell. 

        Tiera swooped down, landing softly. She murmured a soft thanks to the deer for giving up its life to her, before scooping it up and taking off again. She landed outside the cave, and set the deer down. She removed the arrow, checking it over for damage, before wiping it off and storing it. She next slipped her knife out of its sheath of her leg and quickly skinned the deer. She grabbed a cleaver from where it was proved against a log and divided the deer up with practiced motions. 

        She grabbed a piece and almost began eating, before she remembered that her human guest would need her food cooked. She set the meat back down and walked into the cave. Rene has fallen back asleep in front of the fire. Tiera crouched next to her and gently shook her shoulder. 

       Rene startled awake, lashing out blindly. Tiera backed you, surprised, she expected the noble girl to be used to being woken up by others.

        “Sorry.” She apologized anyway. “I just wanted to ask if you had a preference on the cut of meat, or how it’s cooked.”

          Rene sat up, still disoriented. “Uh, the cooks normally just give me food.” She admitted.

          Tiera debated with herself, before finally speaking. “Do you want to learn?”

          “Learn?” Rene asked, tilting her head slightly.

          “How to, uh, do things. Staying here is not going to be like staying in a place.” Tiera explained, while gesturing to the room. “There’s no servants here, just a monster.”

        Tiera stood. “Come outside if you want something to eat. Just don’t wait too long or I’ll have hung it somewhere to dry.”

        Rene watched as Tiera left, she didn’t understand why the woman kept insisting on calling herself a monster. She had been nothing but kind. She did have a point though. This wasn’t a castle. She should learn to not be so helpless. She followed her host out the door, startled by the sight of the butchered deer, and she struggled to stop her stomach from rolling, but she forced herself to sit next to the outside fire pit. 

       She had significantly less trouble controlling her stomach when she saw Tiera dig into a piece of raw meat. Rene scrambles to her feet and ran to the cliff before the meager contents of her stomach leave it. 

        “Are you ill?” Tiera asked, concerned.

         Rene glanced back at her, and saw the picture of the monster so many saw her as, with around the edge of her face.

         “Uh, you, I’m, raw meat.” Rene managed to finally stumble out. 

         “Oh, sorry.” Tiera quickly apologized, wiping her mouth off. She lit the fire with a quick puff, before spearing the meat on a nearby stick and holding it over the fire. 

          Rene wipes her own mouth off and Tiera handed her another canteen as she came back near the fire. 

          Rene’s curiosity had been growing so she finally decided just to bite. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

         Tiera raised an eyebrow. “Would you prefer if I ate you? Or locked you away in a dungeon? Or up in a tower?”

        “What? No.” Rene shook her head. “I’m just so confused. You’re willing to change your behavior for a complete stranger. You keep apologizing for what I’m sure - for you - are completely normal things.”

         Tiera shrugged. “I wasn’t just going to let you die.”

          “But you’ve done more than that.” Rene argued.

         Tiera shrugged again. “Unlike some humans I know basic hospitality. Just don’t look too deep into it. I didn’t want to let you die, and I don’t want to just lick you out the door. Everyone deserves a safe space.”

         “Well, thank you, for everything.” Rene said, before daring to glance at the deer carcass again. “Now, mind showing me how to cook.”

         Tiera smiled and proceeded to teach her. 

187.2

        Tiera tensed from her perch high up on the cliff, someone had crossed her perimeter wards. She took off and landed on the ground, surprised to see a woman about her age, in badly fitting armor, weilding a sword that was too big for her. This was completely unexpected. No one had come up in two months since Rene got here. 

         “Let my friend go. I’m here to rescue her from you, foul beast.” The lady declared, while brandishing the sword.

         Tiera raised an eyebrow, nudging the sword to one side, the poor girl could barely keep it up. “Who are you?”

         “Nyla, now give me Rene back.” Nuls threatened, but Tiera was unimpressed. 

          Tiera sighed, grabbing the other’s arm. “Come on.”

         As she dragged the intruder closer to camp she called out. “Rene do you need rescuing?”

        “What? No...” Rene called back, turning to face Tiera as she came around the corner. “Nyla!?”

         Tiera sighed. “She came here to rescue you from a foul beast.”

          “Although I appreciate the sentiment. I’m not a prisoner.” Rene said, smiling at Nyla, before laughing. “Besides what were you going to with that?”

        Nyla stared, confused. “But, but, then, what’s going on?”

        Tiera sighed. “You explain Rene, I’ll get us some food and water. Also, take off the ridiculous armor, at least get something that fits.”

         Rene gestured for Nyla to take a seat as Tiera went inside. She grabbed two canteens, and glanced at a set of armor on the wall, it was too small for her. She grabbed it, and a sword more fitting for Nyla.

         She returned outside and Rene seemed to have finished telling her story. Tiera tossed the canteens at her before turning to Nyla.

          “Come on, let's get you some proper armor.” She said, waving the girl over. 

         Nyla stared at her and the armor she was holding in surprise.

         Tiera sighed. “If you still want to fight me, the least I can do is give you a fighting chance with the proper equipment.”

          Nyla shifted awkwardly. “Honestly, getting this on was a struggle, I don’t know how to get it off.”

         Tiera sighed again, setting down the armor she had grabbed. “How were you planning on defeating me?”

          “I don’t know.” Nyla admitted. “I was desperate.”

          “Desperate to escape, or desperate to save Rene?” Tiera asked, as she began unbuckling the armor.

           Nyla suddenly got flustered at the very close proximity of the not really a monster. 

           “Uh, a little, both.” She stammered out. 

           Tiera noticed Nyla’s blush, but promptly ignored it. She was not fighting with a shirt right now. If Rene could get used to it, Nyla could too. Tiera finished taking the armor off, setting it all to the side. 

          “Still want to fight me?” Tiera asked. 

          Nyla shook her head.

          “Do you want armor?” Tiera asked. 

          Nyla shook her head again.

         Tiera turned and went back inside putting everything away. Rene gave Nyra a knowing look.

           “You like her.” She said, as if it was a fact.

            “No.” Nyra quickly dismissed, but her blush said otherwise. “I barely know her. She’s just, she’s unfairly hot for a monster.”

           Rene’s response was cut off by Tiera coming back outside. 

           “I don’t have anything to eat inside so if you want to eat you’ll have to wait for me to hunt.” She told the two.

            They realized that she had a quiver slung across her back, and a bow in one hand. She was anticipating that they - or at least Nyla - would want to eat.

          “Isn’t that uncomfortable?” Nyla asked, gesturing to the quiver. “Doesn’t it rub on your skin?”

           Tiera shook her head, turning so that Nyla could see her back - it was covered in the same shimmering blue scales that covered her wings. “My scales are far more durable than your skin.”

            “What are you?” Nyla asked, bluntly and Rene gasped.

            “You can’t just ask someone that.” Rene hissed, chastising.

           Tiera didn’t care though. “Half-dragon.” She answered plainly. “Now I’m going hunting, please do not burn my home down.”

           Tiera took off and was left wondering how she now had two humans staying with her - she assumed Nyla would stay. What were they going to do for sleeping? Tiera didn’t have any more blankets, considering she almost never got cold. She would just have to make another bed so that then the blankets Rene was sleeping on could go to Nyla. God, she should just kick them out. What had she gotten herself into?”

187.3

        Tiera tensed, pausing mid-sentence as she felt people passing through her perimeter. Lots of people. She had a feeling she knew what - who - they were here for. She - they - didn’t have much time. 

         Tiera grabbed the two humans who had been staying with her the last few months and shoved them in a corner. “Stay here. Stay quiet. Don’t move. Don’t talk.”

          Rene and Nyla just nodded, they had never seen Tiera like this before. Her wings were flared slightly, and she had an expression of, of something they couldn’t quite place, a mix of anger but also protectiveness. 

        Tiera turned and stalked away, grabbing two swords of the wall as she left. The humans were slightly concerned that she didn’t take any armor, but they trusted that Tiera knew what she was doing. 

        Tiera’s magic was boiling just under the surface. She was just barely keeping it under control. She was used to the territorial urges from her dragon half, but she wasn’t used to the fierce protectiveness (from both halves) that had taken grip of her as she saw the soldiers that were there to take away her Rene and her Nyla.

         Tiera landed in front of the group of soldiers, roaring, meeting every expectation these soldiers had for the monster on the top of this mountain. She did not waste words as a stream of hot flames pushed the knights back, back past her perimeters. She tightened her grip on her swords as she advanced. These intruders needed to leave or die. She was happy to help them with the latter. She rushed the first line of knights. The steep rugged terrain meant that only one or two could make it up to the path to face her. They had no chance to outnumber her. 

        She kicked the first knight in the chest knocking him back and causing a domino effect. The next one she quickly disarmed, before decapitating him. She remained untouched until a knight with a golden helmet stepped forwards. He could actually hold his own and managed to land a grazing blow on her lower abdomen.

         Tiera responded by roasting him, with a torrent of flame. It caused the next knights to hesitate to step forwards but when they saw her strange green blood dripping from the cut the charges with new confidence, misplaced confidence as they were easily cut down, Tiera’s blades finding all the weak spots in their armor.

         They had numbers, but Tiera had a lot of stamina, and magic. Although she mostly used it in the form of breathing fire she also used it to strategically vanish some armor or move some ground. Driven mostly by her baser dragon urges to protect her territory and her mates she wasn’t in the right state of mind to do much complex magic. 

       Eventually, only one knight was left standing in front of Tiera who was panting, soaked in sweat, and still bleeding from a single cut on her abdomen. The knight dropped his sword in surrender, looking up at the wild woman.

         “How about we find a more peaceful solution, something mutual beneficial, like I don’t know, sex?” The knight asked, offered, pleaded, either way it was incredibly stupid, as the only thing he warned was an enchanted blade running him through, like his armor didn’t en en exist. 

          Satisfied that she was done defending for now, Tiera calmed back down. She sighed as she looked over the bodies strewn all over her mountain. Now she had to clean that all up.

         As she began cleaning up the bodies (scavenging anything useful and burning the rest), Tiera realized, with growing horror why she had been so protective. It wasn’t just her territory that she was protecting, but Rene and Nyla. They had been in her territory as ‘guests’ for quite a while, but dragon instincts had two categories for those on a dragon’s territory, enemy or family. Sure, dragons had friends, but they always met on neutral territory. A dragon’s territory was sacred to them. So, since Rene and Nyla didn’t fall into the enemy territory, they fell into family. And since they weren’t blood related, that meant they were family in the only other way - a romantic partner.

        Fuck. Stupid fucking instincts was going to make this so awkward. Some primal part of her had claimed them as hers. She couldn’t act on it. She didn’t have their consent, besides she was a monster. She just feared what would happen if she couldn’t get this under control. Eventually, they would leave and what would happen to Tiera. Dragons were extremely loyal, loyal to a fault. Once they chose a partner - a mate (Tiera mentally grimaced at the word, she didn’t even want to humor the thought) - they stuck with them, to the end. 

        Fuck. Tiera was so screwed. This was already stupidly out of control. And both of them, why both, why any? Why couldn’t it be neither? Why had she let them stay in her territory? Even as she thought it, she regretted thinking it. She had grown to lo-like Rene and then Nyla. Their naivety was amusing, and both of them were willing to learn. Nyla had even begun learning how to shoot, while Rene was experimenting with cooking. 

       Tiera wouldn’t give them up for anything. Although at first she had been annoyed by the infusion in her territory it no longer felt like an intrusion - they were no longer strangers, and at least a small part of her wanted them to be more than friends, but it was too much to ask. She needed to get herself under control. She couldn’t go running her friendships with the only people in the past few years that weren’t trying to kill her. While Nyla has at first, but that hadn’t lasted long.

        Tiera has run out of bodies, out of excuses. She had to go back and face them. At least she was better under control, her dragon half was not so firmly in control as at the start of the battle. Tiera collected her blades from where she had left them at the top of the hill and she went back inside.

        Both Nyla and Rene breathed sighs of relief as Tiera walked back in. They had grown increasingly nervous as the sounds of battle reached them, and almost doubly so when it stopped and Tiera still didn’t return. They both lept forwards, engulfing Tiera in a hug. Rene threw her arms around Tiera’s shoulders, while Nyla slipped them around her waist.

        Tiera grunted slightly at the pressure on her wound that she still had to bandage. Both women recognized the rare sound of discomfort and backed off. 

         “Are you okay?” Rene asked at the same time Nyla gasped. “Your stomach.”

          Tiera stepped away from her two concerned friends, hanging her swords on the wall, before moving towards the shelf in the other side of the room.

           “I’m fine.” Tiera answered in response to their questions.

           “I’ve never seen you injured before.” Rene commented instead of what had almost come of her tongue - wow your blood is green. 

           “I don’t often get injured.” Tiera muttered as she cleaned her wound and wrapped it. “But, I’m not invincible.”

           “What did they want?” Nyla dared to ask.

            “Presumably to ‘rescue’ you.” Tiera answered, as she began placing the useful items she had scavenged in the shelf. 

            “Presumably?” Nyla pressed, while Rene peered at what Tiera was putting away, curious what the half-dragon considered useful.

           “I, Uh, there wasn’t a chance to talk.” Tiera said, coughing slightly, embarrassed, not wanting the others to know just how she had acted. 

          “You talked to me?” Nyla pressed, confused. 

           “You were one person.” Tiera explained. “There were easily fifty of them, in my territory.” Her voice turned to a growl at the end and she paused to collect herself. “Sorry, I get, uh, territorial, it’s the dragon in me.”

            “Territorial?” Rene raised an eyebrow trying to meet Tiera’s gaze. “But you let us stay.”

            “You’re different.” Tiera grunted, hoping they wouldn’t push much further.

           “How?” Rene pushed. The half-dragon still had never given her a straight answer no matter how many times she tried. 

           “You just are.” Tiera said, growing uncomfortable. “Come on, it's late we should eat and go to sleep.”

          Rene realized that once again she wasn’t getting anywhere and decided just to start cooking. That was one thing that she had quickly surpassed the half-dragon in. Rene often caught Tiera just eating raw meat when she wasn’t around the others. She did refrain from doing that around then though, because it made them uncomfortable. 

#dragon #dragon saving the princess #half-dragon #protective #writing #escaoe #unexpected hospitality #not edited

[storiesofwildfire]

dragon age sentence starters – status; accepting

@bifrostgold​ said: "How do you do that? Make everything better with a smile?" (for Loki ❤)

♔—- Her father didn’t really seem to like Heimdall. Ever since they arrived on Vanaheim, Kratos kept his guard up. Sure, that wasn’t abnormal in the slightest. Her father had a tendency of mistrusting before trusting, never took anyone for their word unless they proved themselves, and despite training her to survive alone, he had a shockingly protective streak. 

She understood the reason, of course, and as she grew older, Kratos’ motivations became more and more clear. He’d hurt a lot of people in his time, but he’d been hurt just as much. So much had been taken from him and Atreus was... well, really one of the only things he’d managed to keep hold of for so long. She believed, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that her father’s biggest fear was losing her. He didn’t even seem to bat an eye when it came to his own death if it meant she got to live.

Even some of the personal trials she’d gone through that she’d been so fearful of sharing with her father for fear of his judgment or fear of losing his approval had done little to distance them or put a dent in their bond. Kratos and Atreus were rarely apart as they lived together and traveled together. Even now, in her adulthood, her father was always there. She couldn’t have wished for him to be anywhere but by her side, but she now faced an interesting dilemma...

At first, she mistook her father’s wariness as standard procedure. It would take him a while to feel safe on Vanaheim, to trust the Vanir in any way, especially when he did have such a horrible hangup about any type of God that wasn’t his own child. But as the days stretched to weeks and weeks to months, and Kratos saw how beneficial it was for her to be in such a magical place, learning not only control of her ever-growing magic, but how to harness it to its fullest potential, he seemed more confident that they’d made the right choice to come. Mimir hadn’t been wrong and while it could be very difficult to tell when Kratos actually enjoyed himself or approved, Loki knew without a doubt that he did. He was even warming up to Vanaheim and its people.

Everyone but Heimdall, that was.

A unique situation, as it had never really come to fruition before. For all the years that she traveled with her father and went through wave after wave of self-discovery along their journey, she’d never taken so fondly to another person. Sure, brief crushes that never lasted and occasional sneaking off for a date that she would never tell her father about cropped up, but Heimdall was something different entirely. 

Her magic sang with joy when he was near, constantly reaching out to him in hopes of enticing him back to her without her consent to do so. Hung up on everything he had to say and so easily found swooning just from watching him for a brief window of time shouted clear as day that she’d fallen in love for the first time. It hadn’t been planned. She didn’t expect it, not when she’d never felt so intensely for another person, but she could hardly deny it. Unfortunately, it became very obvious to her father as well and Kratos did not seem to take well to it, almost going as far as to try and frighten the young Chief away from his child’s heart.

Kratos meant well, Loki knew. He only wished to spare her as much pain as possible, but his interference in her attempts to get closer to Heimdall grew exasperating to say the very least. They took to sneaking off for private studies or hunting trips that allowed them to be alone and away from the rest of the town, her father and Heimdall’s mums included. 

Sitting with him on one such hunting trip now, she bent over Heimdall’s back to help him readjust his hold on the bow in his hands for more efficient aim and angle for the drawback. With her suggestions, Heimdall’s arrow split through the air quick enough that if you blinked, you missed it entirely, and it stuck its mark. A target, admittedly, rather than an actual animal. They were supposed to be hunting, but they both knew the true nature of sneaking off like this was more to spend time together. Loki would ensure they brought back something sizable so no one could fuss at them, but the real hunting could come later.

After hitting the target, Heimdall sat the bow down and shifted position so he could lean against a large tree trunk. A little frown tugged at the woman’s lips, though she easily slid into his lap and brought surprisingly soft hands to the Vanir’s cheeks to guide his golden eyes to her. Troubled, she could feel it. An unease that covered the stretch of their time together despite the obvious joy at getting to spend time with Loki at all. 

Kratos, she assumed. Heimdall, she quickly learned after meeting Heimdall, could see literally everything within Yggdrasil. Nothing could be hidden from his sight ( though, admittedly, she was determined to find out a way to prove that wrong. Purely for the challenge of seeing if she could more than anything ), including her father’s treatment of him. The disapproving glares, the attempts to literally force Heimdall and Loki apart, the threats Loki saw and no doubt didn’t see... They were getting to Heimdall, and why wouldn’t they? Serious romance seemed to be a relatively new concept to him as well despite how much older he actually was. What they felt for one another was as genuine as could be. Even their magic pinned after one another, but Kratos did not seem to approve. In many ways, it even read negatively on Heimdall’s character, as if Atreus’ father did not believe him good enough or trustworthy enough to court his child.

Before she spoke, she offered her newfound love a soft smile that radiated warmth and understanding while her thumbs caressed his cheeks fondly.

"How do you do that? Make everything better with a smile?" Heimdall asked, returning Loki’s smile with one of his own.

“That would insinuate that something was wrong at all?” Loki murmured. She’d taken to her Norse name, especially in her later years of life. She did not choose Loki over Atreus. Both names belonged to her, but as she interacted with more people from her mother’s dominion, it felt right to use the name that her mother had given her in conjunction to the one her father gifted. Atreus would always be her father’s first choice and a name she carried with pride and honor, but Loki rapidly became popular amongst the Norse. 

Loki’s story existed long before she had been born, after all.

“It’s all right,” she continued, though she did lean up to press a gentle kiss to Heimdall’s lips before she said anything else. Lingering there for a moment, she found herself wrapped in the desire to lose herself in the kiss. Every time she kissed Heimdall, she felt an overwhelming need to press on. That need wasn’t always sexual, it just manifested in a desire to be as close as she possibly could to the man. Surely, the overwhelming sense of desire would die down eventually, once their romance moved past the stages of being new and exciting and, at least as far as Kratos was concerned, still a bit forbidden. 

“I get it,” she whispered, finally pulling back enough so she could look at the man again. “My father has not exactly been kind or welcoming to you or to us. I’ve seen it wear on you. It’s becoming more and more intrusive on our time together and it almost makes us slipping away together feel like we’re doing something we shouldn’t be.” Shared feelings, in truth, ones that she could feel in Heimdall, but ones she felt as well. Kratos meant well, but he hadn’t made falling in love for the first time easy by any stretch of the imagination. 

“But you know I would not be out here with you if I did not wish to be. I have never...” She paused, blinking by her own fear in admitted what she nearly admitted. Mentally debating whether she should finish her thought or not, she finally continued. “I have never been in love before now,” she confessed. “My father has seen a few crushes, endured a few nights of me running off to meet with someone, but he has never had to deal with the idea that I could actually bind myself to another person. He isn’t handling it well, but the way he looks at you is his protective nature canceling out all other forms of logical thought. He wants to find something wrong with you so he has an excuse to pull me away, but he’d been unable to find one for this long because there is no reason to. He knows this, he just hasn’t accepted it yet.

“It must be strange for you, seeing how welcoming and open your mothers are. They’ve all taken to me so well so quickly, having my father act as a polar opposite to that is enough to give anyone whiplash, but he will come around. He’s just stubborn--” She had to get that from somewhere, didn’t she? “--and often struggles to break out of his ways. Eventually, he will come to terms with us, though. He doesn’t exactly have a choice in the matter. You are my choice, not his, and I wouldn’t back down from you for anything. Not even my father. Surely, you must see that?”

She kept his gaze for a long few moments, emerald eyes staring without falter into those bright golden eyes that she knew could see everything and yet, so often focused on her. His eyes were one of the first things that drew her in, both in their unique qualities and beauty, and she loved them all the more now, watching the way conflict faded from them and formed into fierce determination or, perhaps, love?

Swallowing, she let her arms slip around his neck. Her slim frame didn’t look as if it possessed much strength but her appearance no matter her chosen form always had been deceiving. Pulling Heimdall close, she pressed to him and dipped her head enough to bury her nose against his throat, slowly inhaling the scent of him. 

“I love you, Heimdall. Nothing will change that.” Nothing more than a whisper, truly, as her heart thrashed a mile a minute against her sternum. The first time she’d ever admitted aloud that she’d fallen so deeply in love and now it was out there, no longer able to be protectively guarded by her paranoia or fear of rejection. 

“I love you,” she whispered again.

#ask loki #answered prayers #bifrostgold #c; heimdall #( main verse ; god of war ) a child born of two worlds #( ship ; bifrostgold ) you have been here since the beginning and you are the first to truly see me #( ship ) loki x heimdall #( long response ) if it were easy everyone would do it #{ i am uh??? really gay for this #so I hope you love it as much as i do because I'm eyes emoji at it right now #also poor Heimdall just trying to love and be a good bf #and Kratos in the bg with a knife like: give me a reason bitch just one #but also poor Kratos because??? he's having to deal with his child falling in love for the first time #and like #being an adult and shit #and it's sweet that he wants to protect Loki from Heimdall even tho he really shouldn't }

[thesportssoundoff]

“Is Brazil prepared for a Dragon, a Phenom, Rocky, an Alligator and potentially some good old fashioned Lineker violence?” UFC 224 Preview

Joey

May 7th

These long UFC breaks are a real sore, aren't they? After what feels like a much longer than it actually is week and change; the UFC returns and it's coming straight to PPV with a very...strange card. The main card isn't perfect by any stretch but it's a) good enough to be respectable and b) filled with everything you'd want for a modern day PPV except for the main ingredient I suppose. You've got a quality competent high level title fight, you've got a legends fight that's years in the making (since at least 2013 when Machida made his decision to drop to 185 known), you've got a guaranteed action fight brawl between John Lineker and Brian Kelleher, a phenomenal prospect getting the vaunted third fight treatment and a #1 contender fight at 185 lbs assuming that Chris Weidman's broken hand/shoulder/neck/knee/everything is still on the mend. From there though I think the card really suffers primarily from a lack of one big defining fight that can tie it all together and make it a deep card. It's fine; it's a Brazilian level UFC event. I feel like it could've benefitted from a Iuri Alcantara sighting basically or some Brazilian of a high level who you could see as a prelim headliner.

Fights: 13

Debuts: 0

Fight Changes/Injury Cancellations: 0

Headliners (fighters who have either main evented or co-main evented shows in the UFC):  7 (Amanda Nunes, Ronaldo Souza, Kelvin Gastelum, Lyoto Machida, John Lineker, Thales Leites, Cezar Ferreira)

Fighters On Losing Streaks in the UFC:   1 (Thales Leites)

Fighters On Winning Streaks in the UFC:   5 (Alberto Mina, Raquel Pennington, Amanda Nunes, Elizeu Zaleski, Nick Hein)

Main Card Record Since Jan 1st 2016 (in the UFC):  25-9-2

Amanda Nunes- 4-0 Raquel Pennington- 3-0 Ronaldo Souza- 3-1 Kelvin Gastelum- 3-1-1 (really 4-1) Amanda Bobby Cooper- 2-2 Mackenzie Dern- 1-0 John Lineker- 4-1 Brian Kelleher- 3-1 Lyoto Machida- 1-1 Vitor Belfort- 1-2-1 (1-3 reaaaaaally)

Too High Up- Davi Ramos vs Nick Hein

In truth everything on the main card is pretty much what it should be. The prelims are such a grab bag of "decent but not thrilling" that it's hard to pick one fight that maybe has the capacity of being out of place. That belongs to this fight where Nick Hein returns from an extended absence to face Davi Ramos on the middle of the FS1 card. I have no beef with Davi Ramos but Hein is a notoriously slow boring fighter who more often than not has fights that tend to sap the will of viewers like they're trapped in a RNC. It's also worth pointing out that Hein is 33 and he hasn't fought since 2016. Put this on Fight Pass, man.

Too Low- Alberto Mina vs Ramazan Emeev

This is a touch hypocritical given Emeev stunk up the joint and Mina hasn’t fought in a year and change either. I get it but listen. Alberto Mina is a pretty fun fighter to watch who has finished 2 of his 3 UFC fights, racking up wins over Yoshihiro Akiyana and Mike Pyle if you're looking for "names" to get excited over. Ramazan Emeev is coming off a win at 185 lbs vs Sam Alvey in a dumb fight but Emeev is figured to be a fighter worth keeping an eye on at 170 lbs. It's a far more intriguing fight on paper than Hein/Ramos.

Stat Monitor for 2018: Debuting Fighters (Current number: 9-14):  

Short Notice Fighters (Current number: 10-4):

Second Fight (Current number: 12-12):  James Bochnovic, Markus Perez, Ramazan Emeev, Karl Roberson, Mackenzie Dern

Cage Corrosion (Current number: 5-10):  Alberto Mina, Sultan Aliev, Nick Hein, Raquel Pennington

Undefeated Fighters (Current number: 15-10):  Mackenzie Dern, Karl Roberson, Alberto Mina

Twelve Precarious Ponderings

1- Let's talk about the card real quick, eh? Amanda Nunes is under 30 but she'll be over the dreaded "RB decline age" shortly. How many other Brazilian fighters on this card are under 30?

John Lineker- 27 Junior Albini- 27 Warrley Alves- 27 Markus Perez- 27

Now Mackenzie Dern is 25 years old but she was born in the United States. If you want to give her to Brazil for the sake of continuity then you're more than welcome to but the point remains. What's more? Albini is coming off a loss, Alves is 1-2 in his last 3 fights, Markus Perez is coming off a loss and while we all love Lineker, I feel like the ceiling on him at 125 and 135 lbs has been somewhat established. People make a lot of talk about the lack of Brazilian champions but that's not a massive problem. I was there in 2012 when everybody was panicking about the lack of American champions during the Brazilian boom period of MMA. The problem is Brazil lacks a fresh young core of new talents under 30 who can make waves in the UFC. I mean stop me if you've heard this one BUT the hope when the UFC decided to invest countless dollars into Brazil was that at some point they'd find, cultivate and develop a bumper crop of young stars for when Anderson, Shogun, Maia, Machida, the Nog Brothers and Vitor were gone. It hasn't happened yet and each attempt has been in vain. That's why Thomas Almeida was received with open arms; it's not JUST that dude was a tremendous fight finisher and all violence fighter. It's that his youth and upside made him a product they HAD to try and develop. It's why Paulo Costa's development as a fighter is so vital; the 27 year old middleweight is a glorified unicorn at this point. Brazil doesn't need one last glory run from guys who are already established. What they REALLY need to do is to find new guys who can carry the banner.

Now the rule of thumb as always is that it only takes one to do it. A fighter like Michael Bisping is considered to have opened the door for other fighters and then the door was reopened by Conor McGregor for European fighters. It's hard to find a Hawaiian fighter who didn't get into MMA through BJ Penn fandom. Fedor is probably more responsible for the current influx of tremendous Russian born fighters than anybody else. The hope is 5-10 years from now, Ronda Rousey's lasting impact on MMA isn't the million buy PPVs or the out of the cage wackiness but the hundreds of women she'll have influenced to get into MMA.  There's no way to tell who it is and what it's going to take for it to happen. We've been waiting on Canada to find the heir to the GSP throne for quite some time now. Eventually a new fighter to capture the hearts and minds of the people will come----but time's ticking. Brazil isn't hopeless but it has to be getting to the point where the UFC is simply running out of draws for the market. No Nog, No Anderson, soon no Vitor, eventually no Maia, Werdum or Machida. Cyborg isn't going to be around for the UFC much longer either. The time for somebody to step up has NEVER been more immediate. Maybe this is why there's going to be a most convenient case of amnesia on where Mackenzie Dern was born.

2- There's an MMA fan theory I've seen on a few forums about the # of WMMA fights on a card relating to buyrate. The general feeling is that like flyweights, the more WMMA fights you have on a main card the less likely you are to pop a significant buyrate.  I decided to go back to 2016 and take a peek at the rumored buyrates for shows with TWO WMMA fights on a card.

UFC 196 (Nunes/Shevchenko, Holm/Nunes)- 1.3 mil UFC 205 (Joanna/Karolina, Tate/Pennington)- 1.3 mil UFC 219 (Holm/Cyborg, Esparza/Gadelha)- 300K UFC 222 (Cyborg/Kunitskaya, Vieira/Zingano)- 260K

So obviously we're not blessed with a tremendous sample size. We've got four events here and two of them with McGregor as the headliner did McGregor level numbers. The other two? I mean they're not bad! Mighty Mouse would sell his gaming rig to headline a PPV that did that kind of scratch. A WMMA headliner outside of Ronda tend to do alright-ish I suppose. I mean Holm vs GDR did in the 200K+ range and again, that sort of number would be something Mighty Mouse would hunger for. I guess the point I'm trying to illustrate is that I don't think this card is DOA. So what MIGHT it draw? Well....we can start by acknowledging that Brazil is where PPV buyrates go to die. Outside of Ronda making a pinch hit appearance to spruce the market (and secure a new deal for the UFC), these shows normally top off around the low to mid 300Ks. Now in today's PPV market that sounds pretty damn fine but that was with Anderson Silva in the height of his GOATness headlining. Jose Aldo PPVs from Brazil routinely did awful bottom of the barrel type numbers. The last time the UFC did a PPV in Brazil; the general thought was that it topped off around the 250K+ range. Not awful of course but probably not the best either for a unification bout between Aldo and Holloway. This card is a lot better than people are giving it credit for but Nunes vs Shevchenko left a sour taste in people's mouths plus Amanda Nunes is just genuinely unpopular. In today's PPV market, it takes more than just a card of really good fights. It has to be "an event" more than just "a fight." If this card drops below 200K, I think that's probably a bad deal.

3- I feel like this is going to answer more questions than Nunes/Shevchenko II re: Amanda Nunes and her long term success going forward. If you drew up a fighter who could prey on the things that have been of woe to Nunes' success, it's a fighter who has SOME of the Rocky Pennington attributes. The sort of person who doesn't get overwhelmed by pressure, who can dish it out and take it in return, who hits surprisingly hard and relies on durability and patience. Pennington is really crude but she makes it work for her and she's one of those fighters who fights better when tired. Amanda Nunes has struggled with people who don't fold vs her pressure and her cardio remains a question until I see her in a fight where it's truly tested. Her vs Shevchenko was a low output high leverage staring contest which didn't really force her to exert much of anything. To this point, Nunes deserves fantastic credit for making sure cardio isn't an issue by just running through people. This is still a very unique test for her.

4- I just wish Pennington hadn't been gone for over a year. This year I started tracking performances of fighters who take more than a year off and the 5-10 number is not pretty. What's more; Nunes is arguably the best first round fighter in MMA today and so if Pennington is rusty (which she will be), she might not even get a chance to test what Nunes has in rounds 3, 4 and 5.

5- Kelvin Gastelum vs Jacare is such a weird fight for me. It's a fight where logic dictates Gastleum should have no shot given the size difference but one where he remains a credible threat. I lack a defined way to describe Jacare other than to call him perhaps history's most undervalued commodity; one of the best grapplers with really good striking backed by one of the games most active fight IQs. Like Damien Maia, he just isn't athletic enough to really get over a certain caliber of fighters. Guys who he can't get down he often struggles with and against Whittaker and Romero, he was taken out of his gameplan early due to a speed and athleticism disadvantage. Like Whittaker, Gastelum will give up size in exchange for speed and the cardio advantage. The key difference is Whittaker is insanely hard to get down and keep down whereas I can't get Weidman taking Gastelum down out of my head. Gastelum CAN be taken down but on the ground he's really great at neutralizing offense and getting back to his feet. I'm just not sure Jacare is the right person to want to try to show that off against. Jacare also does some of his best work securing takedowns against the cage and Gastelum does his best work practically leaning on the fence. This is a really good fight with the winner leaving no doubt as to who the #1 contender is since Chris Weidman has evaporated into the ether seemingly.

6- Have the expectations become too much for Mackenzie Dern? It's beginning to feel like if she doesn't steamroll ABC in the first round then the scrutiny on her performance is going to be pretty crazy.

7- It's a little bit bittersweet that Lyoto Machida vs Vitor Belfort is potentially a double retirement fight. The fact we never got Anderson vs Vitor II or Lyoto vs Shogun III will always be bummers to me. On the other hand, we've hit "No mas" for Vitor Belfort like a full two years ago and Machida is either at that point or quickly approaching it. This is a rare acceptable legends fight with the right market to engage in it.

8- Since they're fighting we might as well ask this; whose legacy is more vital to the history of MMA? Vitor Belfort or Lyoto Machida?

9- There are going to be actual human beings walking among us breathing our air and drinking our water who will not watch Lineker vs Kelleher based solely on their height and weight. These creatures exist.

10- If you haven't seen Yoshihiro Akiyama vs Alberto Mina yet, I recommend you do so. One of the wilder and crazier fights in recent memory which is forgotten since it happened at like 8 AM Eastern.

11- The best prospect on this entire show is not a Brazilian but an American in Karl Roberson. He trains out of a tiny gym in New Jersey, was thrown into the fire of kickboxing vs Jerome LeBanner and Dustin Jacoby and before his sixth mma fights, he was already in the UFC. After ONE fight in the UFC, he was already trying to step up to fight Vitor Befort on LESS than 24 hours notice. He's the rare good example of guys tested before they're ready in that he's already faced a fire storm and come out stronger each time. He's got Cezar Mutante in the FX prelim headliner.

12- Elizeu Zaleski has been in five UFC fights. Three of them won a FOTN bonus and the Dalby-Zeleski fight should've won a fourth. He is all action all the time and while Sean Strickland is not the right opponent if you want to have an action fight, I get the feeling Zaleski will drag him into one kicking and screaming.

Must Wins

1- Amanda Nunes

Simply put this show is all about her. She's getting a bit of a stay busy opponent in Pennington with the right kind of strengths to test what have previously been flaws for Nunes. The show is all about her and it's being built around her returning to Brazil as the UFC's top Brazilian champion (at least over the long haul).

2- Jacare Souza

Kelvin Gastelum is really young for 185 lbs so the opportunity to be a contender/champion is always going to be there for him. This is about 38 year old Jacare trying to finally get a UFC title shot after scrapping and scrounging for over five years in the org plus an MMA career that feels like it spans well into the 19th century. The last time he was this close; her an into a fighter similar to Kelvin Gastelum who wouldn't get taken down and just pieced him up in striking range until Jacare just couldn't take it anymore. Lightning strikes twice?

3- Mackenzie Dern

Take everything said about Nunes and then put that in here minus the champion bit. Dern is Brazil's top prospect for the UFC now that Thomas Almeida has sort of settled into a bit of a mid level range.

Five Can't Miss Fights

1- Brian Keller vs John Lineker

2- Lyoto Machida vs Vitor Belfort

3- Kelvin Gastelum vs Ronaldo Souza

4- Elizeu Zaleski vs Sean Strickland

5- Junior Albini vs his diaper

#MMA #UFC #FX #Nunes #Pennington #Jacare #Machida #Belfort #Gastelum #Lineker #Roberson