#the silent assassins of the red desert

[nataliasquote]

I Will Rescue You | n romanoff

Summary: An alert from the Red Room sends Natasha, Yelena and Bucky on a last minute mission. But what they find is far from expected…

Warnings: teen pregnancy, injury, blood, guns

Pairings: natasha x adopted!daughter!reader

wc: 3.7k

note: this is just precious mama nat who holds a special place in my heart

-⧗-

"Got your six, Natasha. Approach when ready." Nat heard the crackle over her intercom and readied her gun, her elbows locked as she pressed herself against the wall.

Never did she think she'd be back in this place. The one place she vowed never to come back to. But here she was. The coldness of the stone wall was seeping through her tactical suit, which wasn't adapted to support her through Russia's freezing temperatures.

But that was the last thing Natasha was thinking about. There were girls inside. Girls that needed help. Natasha knew all too well how they felt, and she wanted to put a stop to it.

Yelena was on the opposite side of the courtyard, double ponytails swishing back and forth as she kept checking her surroundings. The sisters made eye contact and nodded, Natasha taking that as her cue to move.

Silent as the dead of night, the redheaded assassin crept through the open door, sticking to the shadows like this very place had taught her. She didn't make a sound, taking down guards with a single slice to the throat, clean and precise. Fires shot in the distance and she knew she didn't have long.

But this place was once her home. She knew it like the back of her hand, as much as she hated to admit it. She knew who she wanted to meet for the final time, but a faint rumbling told her that that plan was gone.

"черт возьми." She muttered under her breath as her once careful footing now broke into a sprint. The team had estimated about 30 minutes for extraction, but that had been cut down to 10. There were more guards than the trio expected, but they powered through.

"I'm hitting the training rooms. Nat cover the wings and Yelena-"

"Doors, yes I know. Don't need to tell me солдат."

"Buck, you know she hates being bossed around." Natasha whispered as she climbed the stairs. She heard gunshots through Bucky's comm, but carried on. They could look after themselves.

The sight of the dorm corridor made Nat sick to her stomach. But she hauled herself together and ran along the hallway, checking the rooms. They were empty.

The sight of the tiny beds empty was a relief to her. Maybe they had stopped taking so many young children.

"I've got 15 in here Nat." Bucky called over the comm.

"Take them to the jet. I've got none so far." She checked all the dorm rooms, but there wasn't a trace of life. She thought the place was deserted until a faint whimper was heard, followed by desperate attempts to console.

It sounded like a baby's cry, so Nat placed her gun in her hostler. She didn't need to have her weapons out right now. The widow bites on her wrists would do enough for now to keep her protected.

There were 5 single cells along the back wall, and only one of them was dimly lit. Nat stepped into the light so she wouldn't shock anyone who was living in there. It seemed empty at first, but upon closer inspection Nat could see a young girl curled up in the corner.

Her blue eyes were locked on Nat, muscles tense as she pressed herself into the wall.

"Я ничего не делал, клянусь!" (i didn't do anything I swear). There were bruises on her temples and a hastily tied bandage on her arm and Nat just smiled softly.

"It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you." She crouched down outside the rails and offered her hand out slowly, like you would to a frightened puppy. But the girl just stared at Nat, her eyes narrowing.

"You are Black Widow." Her english was broken and laced with a heavy Russian accent. "You disgrace him."

Nat frowned at her words but shook her head. "No, I'm here to save you. I'm gonna get you out."

"Nobody take us anywhere." As she spoke, her arms loosened to show the tiny baby wrapped in a blanket in her arms. It couldn't have been more than 2 months old, but yet the girl only looked around 15. Natasha felt sick to her stomach. What kind of sick programme had they created?

"Hey, it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you. How old are you?"

The girl stared at Nat for a few minutes before answering. "16."

"Блядь. (fuck)". Natasha sat back on her heels,

contemplating her next move. "And the baby? Ваш ребенок? (your baby?)". The girl nodded.

"Y/n." Nat raised an eyebrow. "меня зовут Y/n."

"That's a beautiful name. You want to get out of here?" The girl shook her head slowly, and Nat didn't blame here. This was all she knew. To her, it was home, as sick and twisted as it was. "You will be safe."

"Safe? You safe?"

Natasha nodded. "You're safe with me. You both are. But we need to go." As if on cue, the whole building began to shake and pieces of rubble fell from the ceiling. The girl screamed and buried her face in her daughter's blanket, holding her tightly. "Y/n, we need to go!" Nat blasted the padlock and the door swung open. "Now!"

"Can't!" The teenager gestured to her leg, which was openly bleeding. A gunshot wound was clean through her calf, and looked fairly fresh, meaning the girl struggled to walk. Nat registered it and brought her hand up to her comms, slowly to not startle the girl.

"Bucky I need backup. Quickly." After a grunt in reply, she quickly looked around the room to find something to help. But it was bare except for a bed and a sink.

Another vibration shook the building and Nat had no other option. She rushed over to the girl and helped her stand, taking the baby in her arm after reassuring the anxious teenager that she would be safe. The girl could hardly walk, but Nat couldn't carry her. Not with the baby too.

As a pair, they hobbled out onto what once was the hallway, now half broken in the middle and filled with rocks. Y/n was heavily leaning on Nat, pain shooting up her leg with every step.

A voice came yelling down the hallway, and through the dust broke Bucky, racing along trying to fit his gun back in it's holster. "What-"

"No questions. Move. Talk later. You need to carry her." Nat was clear and concise with her orders and she gestured to Y/n's leg, which was all Bucky needed.

But Y/n was wary of the new person and she grabbed Nat's arm in front of her. But the redhead turned to face her.

"Hey, it's okay. He is going to help you be safe." She looked into the girl's blue eyes, knowing they had very little time left to get out of here.

"Natasha, I don't know where you are but you better get out of here because this place is gonna blow!" Yelena yelled into her mic, cursing in Russian as she shot down guards.

"Y/n? Please?"

"если ты делаешь больно, детка, я делаю тебе больно! (If you hurt baby, I hurt you!)". Natasha nodded and carefully settled the baby in her arm. Y/n didn't take her eyes off the infant until Bucky picked her up and she felt the pain shoot through her leg. He mumbled an apology as they. began to run, dodging explosions and gunfires.

They broke through a gap in the wall and Y/n squeezed her eyes shut, not used to the blinding light of the sun on the snow.

Yelena was stood at the base of the Quinjet they had stolen from Stark, and as she saw her sister approaching she ran inside to start the engines. They lifted off the ground just as Nat managed to throw herself into a seat, the baby still safely in her arms.

They'd taken a bigger jet than the Avengers usually used, so the widow's Bucky had taken from the training room were in a separate area where they could sit comfortably together. But Nat had brought Y/n up to where she was sitting so she could look at her gunshot wound.

"мой ребенок! (my baby!)" Y/n cried out as soon as she was sitting, but Nat was already on it. She soothed the distressed girl and gently placed the baby in her outstretched arms.

The young girl may only have been 16, but she was a good mother. She calmed her child and an old Russian lullaby and gently stroked her head, kissing it softly. As she sat opposite, Nat couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy when looking at the mother and daughter. As wrong as it was, she never had that opportunity, and she hated herself for it every day.

"Can I look at your leg?" The young girl nodded and stretched her leg out, wincing slightly. The bullet had gone straight through which made Nat's job easier. "Okay it just needs a few stitches. May I? This will hurt."

Y/n shrugged and pulled down the bandage on her arm. Bucky had to turn away at the sight of the DIY stitches that were 'holding' the wound closed. Nat took a sharp inhale of breath but kept her calm. That could be sorted out back at the compound.

Y/n didn't flinch once as the stitches were being put in. She kept her eyes glued to the baby, stroking her face softly as she hummed once more.

"Why don't you get some sleep?" Nat passed the girl a blanket and stepped back to give her some space. "I'll go check on the others." She said to Bucky, who nodded and went to sit at the controls with Yelena.

Y/n was exhausted but tried to keep her guard up. Her eyes darted around the small room, but it wasn't long before she couldn't fight sleep and her eyes began to close.

~~~

"Hey hey woah! It's okay! She's here. She's right here." Natasha was trying to defend herself against Y/n fists as the panicked teenager attacked her. Nat knew the baby wasn't safe just laying on the bed as the teenager slept, so she moved her to a makeshift cot. But Y/n woke up and freaked out.

"You touched her without my permission!" She screamed, swinging a fist at Nat who caught it just in time.

"Y/n, I was looking after her. You needed the rest." Nat held the struggling girl's fists in her hands and stood still, watching as she breathed hard. "It's okay. She's okay."

With a huff, Y/n pulled her hands away and scooped up her baby, cradling her close to her chest. "She needs feeding," she said bluntly.

"Okay. We don't have anything here but why don't you and I go out today and we can buy some supplies, including a cot for our room?" Natasha asked this more as a peace offering and the girl eyed her suspiciously before nodding.

"The other girls. Where are they?"

"Fury- our director has got new homes for them. Don't worry."

"And me? New home for me?"

Nat paused, thinking about her answer. The truth was, she didn't want to see Y/n leave. Not just yet. Something about the girl had reached out to her, and the slight possibility of having a daughter raced through her mind. Maybe this girl was her second chance, a chance to do something good again. "Well, we wanted to keep an eye on you and the baby. Seeing as she's so young."

Y/n just hummed in response before disappearing towards her room with a slight limp.

"You've got a feisty one there." Came a voice from behind Nat. She turned around to find Wanda snacking on a bowl of cereal, spoon halfway to her mouth.

"Yeah." Her reply was half hearted as she stared at where Y/n was last seen.

"Nat?" She turned to face Wanda once more. "I can hear your thoughts; they're really loud. And I'm gonna say go for it, but be careful. You know what you were like when you first came out. She's not much different than you, you know. Give her time."

Natasha smiled at her friend before grabbing a banana. "Thanks Wands."

~~~

Nat really listened to Wanda's words, which is why she called up the store before they left and asked to hire it out for the day. Stark had more than enough money to make that happen, and Nat wanted Y/n to be as comfortable as possible.

They entered through the back door, and only 2 members of staff were on each level of the huge department store. The bright lights and colourful items were enough to overwhelm Y/n anyway, as she held her baby close to her chest, still wrapped in the filthy blanket.

"You can pick whatever you want, okay?" Nat informed the teenager as they entered, but she didn't respond.

She wandered around, face stoic and eyes wide. Natasha could see the outline of a glock tucked into her jeans, but she didn't comment. Where she got it from was unclear, but it brought the girl a sense of comfort and Nat trusted her not to use it inappropriately.

Nat pointed a couple of bottles and baby clothes out, to which Y/n either shrugged or nodded. She was uncomfortable, but this trip was necessary.

"Okay, how about we look at cribs?"

"Our room?"

"Yeah if you want. But there's a nursery we can set up?"

Y/n thought for a minute. "But- no. Close to me."

"She will be close to you." Y/n looked skeptical. "Okay, how about this. We can get one for our room and one for hers, yeah?"

"Okay. But you don't leave no? No moving rooms?"

Natasha couldn't help but smile. "Honey, I'm not leaving. We can get you your own room if you want? For space?"

"No."

"Okay then."

They walked over to the cribs section and looked at the options. Y/n had relaxed a bit more as she considered the options, reaching her hand out to feel the wood. She'd never had the opportunity to make her own decisions before, and it felt foreign.

But within her focussed task, Natasha failed to notice the shop assistant approaching them, until a bright and cheery "Hi there! Can i help you?" broke through their thoughts.

Y/n immediately jumped behind Nat. Her hand would have reached for her gun if it wasn't so busy holding her baby and newly found protector.

"отойди! (stay back!)" Y/n yelled from behind Natasha, who held an arm in front of her. The assistant looked startled and held her hands up in surrender, taking a few steps back.

"Sorry. Could you give us a minute?" Nat apologised quickly and then turned to Y/n. "Hey, stop struggling." The girl unclenched her fist and placed it on her child's back. "That woman is not going to hurt you. Or your baby. You're safe."

"She stay away!" Y/n grunted through gritted teeth, chest heaving. Nat knew there was no winning this, so she placed her arm around the girl, who didn't flinch like she usually did.

"We don't need any assistance right now, thank you." The now shaken woman nodded and scurried away, not wanting to spend another moment around the assassins.

"We go? Now." Y/n stood her ground, staring Natasha directly in the eye.

"30 minutes. Then we go."

"Fine."

Nat rushed around the rest of the store, grabbing baby formula, clothes, cribs, clothes and tethers. She found a bouncer and play mat, even though the infant wasn't even sitting up yet. She grabbed some clothes for Y/n, some of which the teenager picked out, others that Nat knew she needed. The small girl was currently wearing one of Wanda's sweatshirts and a pair of jeans, both of which were too big. All of the items were sent directly to the compound, so they didn't have to carry anything home. And Natasha made sure to heftily tip the woman who had approached them before, as an apology.

Stark had restricted everyone's access except Nat and Wanda to the areas where Y/n was residing. The girl didn't trust men at all, and even with Wanda she was slightly wary.

But after the intense shopping trip, Y/N was exhausted. And her baby was restless, crying even after being fed and changed. The teenager was frustrated and tired, but she refused to hand the baby over to Nat, who offered many times.

But Natasha had another plan. She turned on a movie on the TV and let Y/n sit on the bed, shushing her child desperately.

"Why don't we try her new crib? Maybe she'll settle in there?"

Y/n looked over with heavy eyelids and reluctantly stood up. Her legs buckled slightly but she continued walking to place the baby in the crib. Nat handed her a pacifier but the teenager stared at her blankly, confused at the item she was holding.

"May I?" Nat asked, gesturing to the child.

"Careful." Y/n hissed.

Nat approached the infant and slotted the pacifier into her mouth, smiling at how her cried were instantly silenced.

"ведьма (witch)." Y/n mumbled, watching as her daughter fell asleep within the minute.

"Спасибо, дорогая. (Thank you darling.)" Nat quipped with a smirk as she watched the teenager climb back onto her bed. "Why don't you come onto mine? We can watch a movie?"

Y/N's eyes filled with fear. "Not Snow White. Please no."

Natasha pushed painful memories down and she shook her head. "Definitely not. I still can't watch it."

Y/n shrugged and hesitantly climbed onto Natasha's bed, sticking close to the edge nearest the crib. But Nat didn't comment. She was too busy trying to suppress her excitement over the improvements Y/n had made in such a short amount of time.

She put an episode of Friends on, knowing it was lighthearted and not likely to trigger any fresh memories that Y/n still had.

But she didn't need to worry. Within 10 minutes the teenager was fast asleep, her head resting on Nat's shoulder ever so slightly. The redhead didn't move. She couldn't. This girl was trusting her more and more. The improvement that had been made in a week was beyond anything Nat had ever expected. She paused the movie and switched off the main light, wrapping her arm gently around Y/n's shoulders.

~~~

(5 months later)

Y/n shot up in bed, chest heaving as she broke out of her nightmare. Her eyes automatically darted to the crib beside her bed... but it was empty.

"Mama! Mama! где мой малыш! (Where is my baby!)" She leaped out of bed and raced out of the room, looking everywhere as she ran to the corridor.

She kept yelling for Natasha, calls becoming more and more frantic the longer it went on. But Nat heard her and called back, summoning her into the kitchen.

"I can't find Talia! Someone must have taken h-" The teenager stopped in her tracks, not expecting what she saw infront of her.

Her 7 month old daughter, Talia, was sat in her high chair, eating yoghurt from the spoon that Nat was feeding her. There were berries scattered across the countertop and with every spoonful of yoghurt came a wipe to the mouth from Nat.

"Little miss over her was extra fussy this morning so I made breakfast. Thought you might want to sleep in a bit more."

Y/n breathed out a sigh of relief and leaned against the doorway for a second to catch her breath. "I thought she'd been taken!"

"Well, she just gets more Natty time, don't you little one?" Talia cooed in response, her tiny fists smushing a blackberry on her tray. "Oh you're a messy girl."

"Here Mama, I can clean her."

"Ah ah! I know what I'm doing." Wanda was sat on the other side of the counter eating a plate of pancakes, but she burst out laughing as Talia squished another berry and it squirted onto Nat's white shirt.

"Talia! No baby. Don't play with food." Y/n said, grabbing another wipe for Nat, who accepted it gracefully.

"Good morning Maximoff, Romanoff, Mini-Romanoff and.... Mini-Mini Romanoff." Tony made himself known as he entered the kitchen, Pepper not far behind him.

Over the last 5 months, Y/n had become more comfortable with the rest of the team, especially Tony who spoilt her rotten. He was forever ordering random items or adding updates to her room with Natasha, even without being asked.

"Good morning Stark." Y/n acknowledged him with a smile.

"Nice moves Grandma!" Tony teased as Nat danced around, wiggling her hips, causing her to pause. She grabbed Talia's soggy rabbit plushie that she had been chewing and hurled it at his head, which he only just managed to duck to avoid.

Talia giggled at the sight of her bunny flying through the air and everyone froze.

"Was that her first laugh?" Wanda asked, and Y/n grinned.

"My clever girl! Mama loves her clever girl!"Y/n picked her up from her high chair and held her up, peppering her face in kisses. Talia giggled even more, kicking her legs at the funny feeling.

Nat sank down onto a chair next to Wanda and watched her new daughter and granddaughter laughing together. Tony had given the child her bunny back, and was having fun playing peek-a-boo with her as Y/n held her.

"They've both done so well." Wanda commented as she watched the scene unfold.

"I'm so proud of her. I'm going to ask Fury for adoption papers today." Nat smiled as she felt Wanda's eyes on the side of her face.

"Really?" Wanda's voice was laced with excitement. "You're going to make it official?"

Nat nodded. "She will officially be Y/n Romanoff. My Y/n Romanoff."

#natasha romanoff #fanfic #marvel #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #yelena belova #bucky barnes #black widow

[lcvescountdown]

i really like how all the characters in the assassin's blade returned later in the series. i feel like most prequels were published after the series, but the prequel for throne of glass wasn't. the assassin's blade wasn't just a prequel providing some context about celaena/aelin's backstory or simply some of her adventures, but an introduction to some characters from celeaena/aelin's past who return and have importance to the plot. ansel, who i originally dismissed as just a character who was meant to affect celaena/aelin's character development, came back as the queen of the wastes and an ally to aelin. i thought aelin's trip to the red desert was supposed to be for a mentor type of experience and for her to discover a little bit of honor and morals she has left. in reality, it was also meant to introduce the reader to the silent assassins, provide a bit of backstory, and give a reason why they had a life debt owed to aelin. i think sarah j. maas plans out the plot very well and has so much foreshadowing i (stupidly) dismiss.

#the assassin's blade #throne of glass #aelin ashryver galathynius #celaena sardothien #ansel of briarcliff #the silent assassins #empire of storms #fantasy #sarah j. maas #prequel #lysandra #throne of glass lysandra #sam cortland #arobynn hamel #slay #books #reading #books and reading

[witchthewriter]

𝐀𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧 𝐆𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐲𝐧𝐢𝐮𝐬

ENTJ

Gryffindor

Chaotic Good

Aries Sun, Taurus Moon, Gemini Rising

*spoilers for the throne of glass series*

Formerly known as Adarlan's greatest assassin, Celaena Sardothien, Aelin is the last surviving member of the Galathynius bloodline. Her parents, Rhoe Galathynius and Evalin Ashryver, died in their kingdom of Orynth, with Aelin in between them in bed.

As a young girl, she ran away from her home to escape the King of Adarlan as he brought her kingdom to its knees. She was found by Arobynn Hamel the king of the assassins (who had been entranced by the ghost of Elena). He gave her two choices: to train with him and become an assassin or to live on the streets.

Throughout her life, Aelin hid her true identity, from everyone.

At the age of sixteen, she was sent to Skull's Bay with Sam Cortland (another assassin and boy she grew up with) to enact a deal with the pirate lord. However, when finding out it was a slave deal, she and Sam set them free.

In retaliation, Arobynn beat her badly and sent her to train with the Silent Assassins in the Red Desert where she learnt more about herself than anything else. On her journey there, she met Yrene Towers in a run-down pub and taught her how to defend herself, as well as leaving her with a sack of coins. During her time in the Red Desert, she met Ansel of Briarcliff.

When Celaena/Aelin came back to Rifthold, she realised her feelings for Sam, and after a while, they decided to leave Arobynn's assassin's guild.

Arobynn did not like this. And within a few months, Sam was dead and Celaena was sent to Endovier's salt mines for avenging her lover's death.

That's how she came to be the king's champion. The king's son, Dorian, chose her as his champion. After surviving the trials and tribulations sent her way, she signed a contract and agreed to be in the king's survive for four years. To do his bidding.

Celaena and Aelin are the same woman but have slightly different personalities. Celaena is more sly, cunning, and willing to use whatever means necessary to achieve her goals. She's independent and seeks out trouble.

Aelin has a lot of responsibility to carry, she's a fae princess and the last of her line in succession. Although when she claims her original name, she has matured, Aelin starts to think before she acts.

This woman is one of the most powerful beings. Going head to head with gods and goddesses themselves, she's fallen through worlds and won wars.

#witchthewriter #aelin #aelin fancast #aelin galathynius fancast #aelin fireheart #celaena sardothien #celaena sardothien fancast #witch the writer's moodboards #headcanons #aesthetic #moodboard

[rowaelinsdaughter]

𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖉𝖗𝖆𝖜 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖘, 𝖆𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉 𝖒𝖞 𝖘𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖘 (𝕬𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖓 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗)

WARNINGS: SPOILERS FOR THE ASSASIN'S BLADE, mentions of tortur3, murd3r3r, scars, PTSD.

The first thing that caught your attention about Aelin were her scars.

They decorated her entire body. Big, small... in all ways.

And since then what you liked most was caressing them. Every night, you caressed a part of his body and asked him to tell you the story of that scar. The story of her life.

That night, it was her back...

Three scars crossed her back from her year at Endovier, you knew that, but you wanted to know more about the story of that fateful year.

The two of you on your side, looking at each other face to face, you caressed her scars gently with the tips of your fingers. Aelin's face reflected pain, anguish, fear and her eyes were terrified. The memories of that year are reproduced in her memory, swallowing saliva, she begins to speak.

“Before I went to Endovier, I was Adarlan's best assassin. Almost all the assignments were mine... and Sam's, we were the best assassins trained by Arobynn. Before summer, Arobynn sent us to Skull Bay for a slave deal, we didn't know about it, so we freed them. When she found out, Arobynn beat me up and then sent me to the Red Desert where I spent the entire summer training with the Silent Assassins.” Aelin didn't look you in the eyes, lost in her memories, you move a little closer to her and continue caressing her scars.

“I returned to Rifthold.” Aelin swallows, “and then, I knew about Sam's feelings, and I felt the same way. We paid the debts with Arobynn. We were already free and then… “tears begin to run down her cheeks. Your heart aches when you see your partner like this. “Then they tortured and killed Sam, it was a trap for him and me. And for revenge I fell into it. They captured me and handed me over to the king. A few days passed, after the trial they sent me to Endovier.”

You remove a hand from her back and caress her cheek.

“That first day they tied me to a post and gave me three lashes” After the story, Aelin finally looks you in the eyes. "The rest you already know"

You hug her shoulders and rest your forehead with hers.

“You are the bravest woman I know Aelin and I am proud to be your partner”

Aelin smiles and this time her smile is sweet, full of love.

“And you are the most perfect woman I know, Y/n.”

You kiss her slowly, transmitting all your love.

“You draw stars around my scars, little flame”

“Everytime you need, fireheart”

𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒗𝒆𝒅 ©𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒂𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒅𝒂𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒓. 𝒅𝒐 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚 / 𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚 𝒎𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆.

#sarah j maas #sjm books #fanfic #throne of glass #throne of glass imagine #throne of glass fanfiction #aelin galythinius #queen aelin #aelin throne of glass #aelin ashryver galathynius #aelin fireheart #aelin of the wildfire #aelin x reader #aelin x f!reader #aelin x you

[cucuxumusu]

Persian Prince 👑x Alien Cryptid 👽

Bruce Wayne, adopted son of Ra's al Ghul, was nearing the end of his training. Years spend under the careful tutelage of his mentor, had served him to master everything he will need to take the position he was meant to, and rule over the land. Everything was planed. He will marry Talia, he will ascend to the throne, and rule the league of assassins as many men before him had done.

He just needed one last step to reach that future: The trial of the green temple.

Many rumors were told about the place. It was a place older than humanity, cursed and sacred on equal terms. It had magic that could bring back the dead, it had monster of red eyes hiding in the corners ready to steal your reason. Only the worthy to rule managed to survive a night in the place.

If Bruce wanted to prove his worth, if he wanted to shut up those who doubted his foreign origins and prove his value as king, he needed to survive it.

And so, with the blessing of his mentor and the farewell of his future wife, Bruce departed into the wildness of the dessert. The trip was also meant to be part of the trial, his instructions had been a riddle, the destination unknown, but Bruce's mind was sharp, and he quickly deciphered the old riddle and finally found the ruins of an old construction in the middle of the vastness of sand and wind.

His trial consisted in staying in the place for a night. Then pick one of the strange blue flowers that grew on it's more intern parts, and return. Simple and quick. Bruce quickly set to it.

He entered the dark place that felt way to cold for a construction built in the center of a desert. The architecture didn't resemble any other civilization he had known, the angles were too perfect, the spaces too big. There were paintings on the walls, languages unknown, flying monster that fell from the sky wrecking havoc.

The whole place seemed eerie and unnatural. Bruce's trained instincts screamed at him. Too silent. Too cold. It felt as if he had entered another dimension, and above it all, there was that strange green glow coming from the center of it.

He still kept on walking. Forward and forward, stubborn in fulfilling his destiny and his mission, until he finally found the center of temple.

The blue flowers grew everywhere. Over the black windows, over tables full of buttons, and the metallic floor. And right in the center of it all, there was the cristal. Pure green, illuminating the room, the flowers and the temple, like the putrid heart of a monster. Green liquid poured from it, pooling in little ponds on the floors, like the ones in the legends that could bring back the dead.

Bruce stared at it, stepped closer, and then, he saw him.

There was someone inside the cristal.

It was wearing a strange outfit of blues and reds as he foated suspended in the green material, preserved for eternity. A bright golden simbol was engraved on his chest, a long silky cape flowed from his shoulders in ripples behind him.

He was the most handsome man Bruce has ever seen. Strong psyche, raven hair, and pale skin. His features were perfection, as if an artist had spend years just arranging them to please the eye. The texture of his skin, the softness of his hair, or the deep blue of his eyes, everything in him felt almost like a siren song trapping him in a spell.

Bruce stepped as close as he could to the glass so he could look at this piece of art better. The man was gorgeous, but he also looked sick. There was dark shadows under those eyes, there were dark veins under the pale skin, a grimace of hurt in his lips.

Bruce frowned, changed positions, and this time, as he moved, the blue eyes of the man followed him.

Bruce gasped and stepped back almost falling into one of the green ponds. The man was alive. It had not been and ilusion, the man's eyes had followed him and we're still following his moves.

Horror drowned on Bruce. Trapped. For eternity. Legends told that this cursed temple had been older than humanity, and during that time this man had been trapped here.

This was wrong. This was sick. Maybe this was part of the trial too.

Bruce should do what he had been told. He should pick the flower and only the flower. He should avoid everything else, the pools that promised eternal life, the man in the middle of it. It was probably a trap, another trick to kill the unworthy ones.

Bruce picked the stupid flower. He turned away to leave. Yet he found couldn't move away. It had been the blue eyes. The resignation in them.

Before he could second guess what he was doing, Bruce turned away, unsheathed his saber, and started to bang the cristal with it.

The green material was hard, resistant, but it was still a crystal. After his blade chipped a piece, the whole thing cracked and exploded.

The green light went out, even the pond's light on the floor dimmed as rubbish and dust settled around Bruce in the little temple.

Then, among the growing darkness, a figure rose. It was red and blue. It was naturally gorgeous. It stared at Bruce down as he rose into the air with his eyes glowing a deep murderous red.

#what if Clark landed millenia ago? #what if Bruce acepted Ras' teachings? #what if he found that lost alien? #superbat #superman #clark x bruce #batman #bruce wayne #my fic

[pvrkacciosan]

The Heart of the Lioness: ☽⋆12⋆☾

Protection of the Pride

The Heart of the Lioness Masterlist

Previous Part

☽ - Assassin's Blade Years - ☾

Celeana Sardothien owned her reputation to Arobynn Hamel, but she sure as shit hated him for some of the punishments he ruled out to her. Though sitting in a warm room eating hot food and talking with Ansel Briarcliff meant it wasn't all bad.

The night was warm and sky dark in the Red Desert. The air quiet in the den of Silent Assassins, well until Ansel leaned back and laughed, Celeana also giggling behind her hand at the table which they sat. Comparing stories was always a good way to make friends, finding things in common.

"So, you've stabbed another Assassin from your guild before?" Ansel asked, her voice weak from laughter. 

Celeana nodded, "If one is to survive in the Guild in Rifthold you need to let them know not to mess with you, unfortunately for me, or well them, being Arobynn's prodigy apparently wasn't enough to get me left alone"

"We get punished if we harm one another, jobs like ours don't work without trust" Ansel suggested turning back to fork around the food in her bowl. "Can't have us accidently killing each other, won't do good for or numbers, especially after the last few months"

Celeana frowned when she spooned some food into her mouth, Ansel swallowed quickly and began to explain.

"About a week before you showed up, we had some...visitors, they were coming to escort some of our people away so they could live in Wendlyn" Ansel shrugged and went back to eating.

Celeana froze, her hand suspended in the air the spoon held up. Something about the situation seemed familiar, thinking back Celeana thought of Ilan from the Guild. 

"Were these visitors Fae?"

Ansel's mahogany eyes snapped up to meet her own. Her mouth slowly dropped open and her cutlery clanked back down into her plate.

"How did you..."

"Because the same thing happened to someone I knew." Ilan had been at the guild as long as Celeana had, they often trained together, a vague familiarity in the way his instinct kicked in from his Fae nature.

"Three strangers, all Fae came to the guild, I helped them get past our master"

Ansel was smiling, a knowing smile, "Good riddance, some Assassins here say they are better off"

Celeana placed her spoon down gently, crossing her hands against the table, head tilted slightly. It was a strange occurrence how swapping stories often meant the come about of similarities.

"The word is that they are now under the Protection of the Pride" Ansel stabbed the food in the bowl, "No safer place if you ask me"

"The Pride?"

Ansel froze, her red hair falling from its messy braid which she had pulled tight at the back of her head. Eyes narrowing in slight shock, growing up she heard whispers of the Pride, the name coming to the surface of society a couple years ago.

"Ghosts, shadows in the mist, original protectors for the folk of Terrasen after it fell, apparently for years they have been getting Fae and Magic wielders out of Erilea, offering them an escape and putting them under their protection"

Celeana's fist clamped tight rested atop her thigh, "Who are they?"

Ansel shrugged, "Beats me, heard some of them broke out a bunch of slaves from the salt mines a couple years ago— for fun. Whoever they are I would certainly want them with me, they have never been caught"

"What nation do they fight for?" this information could have done Terrasen a great deal of help if another nation were to stand with them when Adarlan had invaded all those years ago.

"Not with any," Ansel spoke simply, shrugging once more "the only symbol they ever leave behind is a Lion's paw, "

"The Pride..." Celeana trailed off, finishing the conclusion for Ansel. The red headed Assassin nodded.

Celeana could understand why Ansel did not worry for her former partners, for the weight the group's name carried in itself was enough to put them both into silence and continue with their meals in peace. She supposed she shouldn't worry forIlan safety at all then.

When Ilan left the guild, she had pondered whether she would have ever seen him again, she still doubted she ever would but the knowledge he may still be alive soothed some unknown worry in her chest. Arobynn would have gone after Ilan for not finishing or paying off his contract, but did Arobynn have knowledge of who guarded Ilan now? Celeana smirked, if she knew anything about her master it was that even he wasn't stupid enough to challenge a group known as The Pride. 

And that fact alone had amused her.

☽ - Empire of Storms (present)- ☾

Fenrys watched at Aelin continued to stare at the same spot on the map laid across Rolfe's desk, her gaze was fixated on the words Briarcliff, he frowned at the words. Confused by the young queen's fascination with the it.

She was deep in thought, but it didn't take her long before her stare rose to look at Rolfe.

"You're going to give me your armada. You're going to arm it with those fire lances I know you're ordered and you will ship any extra to the Mycenian fleet when they arrive"

Rolfe sat up and barked back a laugh that rooted from the back of his throat, "Like hell I am." he waved his hands around.

"This just shows how utterly outmatched you are" he all but spat "The Mycenian fleet is little more than a myth. A bedtime tale."

Aelin's gaze was calm, eyes amused. "You are the heir of the Mycenian people" she said, "And I have come to claim the debt you owe my bloodline on that account, too" she glared at him, the amusement still dancing at the back of her eyes, "Or were all the sea dragon references for some personal fetish"

"The Mycenian are gone" Rolfe repeated, tone going on the defense as Aelin continued to smirk, the deceptive Heir of fire had no problem playing with it, she didn't care to seem if she got burnt.

"I don't think so. I think they have been hiding here, in the Dead Islands, for a long time. And you somehow managed to claw your way back to power. "

Fenrys watched, smiling as his eyes flicked between Aelin and Rolfe, the two locking head like two rowdy stags, their antlers impossibly stuck together in a lock of dominance.

"I have liberated Ilium from Adarlan. I took back the city– your ancient home– for you. For the Mycenian. It is yours, if you dare to claim your people's inheritance"

Rolfe huffs and his knuckles clench and unclench a couple times, the tattooed skin stretching with each flex. 

The room begins to warm, in waves stemming from Aelin. Her whole being seems to glow, something so inheritably Fae taking root in her expression, she closed her eyes and Fenrys felt his spine snap uncomfortably straighter when she released a shock of her magic.

It rippled and warmed the air, in the distance Fenrys heard the chimes of a bell as her power smacked into it, like a strong wind of a storm it barrelled through that harbour, glimpsing out the window Fenrys could see how it rocked the ships.

There was a second of silence before Rolfe spoke up "What the rutting hell was that?" his tone demanding

The intricate contour lines of the map suddenly became a huge fascination, the inked lines meandering across the parchment like rivers bleeding through the land. 

"Milady has to release bits of her power daily or it can consume her" Rowan said 

Fenrys could sense how Whitethorns word affected Aelin, her shoulders stiffened, and she shifted on her feet watching Rowan, her eyes glassy from lost thoughts. Rowan began to press Rolfe for more information, using the map for reference of Erawan's armies.

When the door creeks open two figure strolled in. Gavriel's son held the door for the female shifter. The pair moving around one another. Fenrys could see Gavriel watching his son with bated breath awaiting, longing for any sort of interaction, all he received was a quick glance before Aedion moved and positioned at Rolfe desk, furthest away from his father.

Rowan filled him in on their gathered information and in turn Aedion began detailing plans for soldiers, weaponry and battle strategies. Gavriel didn't seemed to be paying much mind to the information coming from his son's lips, but rather his son himself to the set of his tone and presence in the room. To the living legend that his son had grown up to be, the leader and commander he had made himself into, birthed from the child he had once been, before everything. 

The shifter had moved, positing herself by the window, overlooking the bay. To the mast of the ships which lay to rest in the harbour.

The King of Adarlan was the next to enter into the slowly crowding office. His gaze immediately went for Aelin and he stalked to her side after he shot Rolfe a quick, acknowledging nod, he rested there, ankles hooked onto the other knee while they briefed him just as they had with Aedion.

"We will have to find enough armour to supply the soldiers with" Fenrys leant back into the chair he sat, the wood creaking.  "We can't have them walking into this without some sort of protection"

Gavriel had finally shaken from his stupor as he nodded, he rested both elbows onto the desk, crossing his forearms. "It would work to give them hope for what is to come"

He glanced to Aelin, her stare was unblinking, so Gavriel looked to his son. Eyes pleading, for forgiveness or praise Fenrys couldn't quite tell.

Fenrys shifted so he was now facing the pirate lord who rested into his desk, fisted hands pushing onto the map.

"If you might invest in the ore supply, we could kick-start the demand" he leaned across to point at a couple locations on the southern coastline of Erilea which he had heard of ore mines, then to a couple in Wendlyn.

"That could work till we get on our feet; you do have the funds to make this work," Rowan added, 

"It couldn't be a permanent solution but if we could hold out long enough, with that supply we might just about manage"

The clock in the corner of Rolfe's office chimed, Fenrys shifted to continue talking when Aelin stood up from her place. The words fell shot from Fenrys' mouth,

"Thank you for your hospitality" she turned to look at her companions, readying them all with just a look.

Aelin took a step for the door, prompting a response from Rolfe.

"That's it?" Fenrys could see the flicker of confusion that danced across Rolfe's expression. Why had the Queen of Fire put so much effort into coming here if she was going to abandon it all just like that.

Aelin lithe body stopped at the door, head tilted to look across her shoulder, Rowan moved to her side, his fist clenched at his side. Fenrys recognised the feeling that gripped the other male's body so tightly, Rowan was resisting the urge to reach out to Aelin. To hold her, if only to remind himself she was still there.

"Yes, if you will not give me an armada, if you will not unite what is left of the Mycenian and return to Terrasen, Then I'll find someone else who will"

"There is no one else" 

Fenrys looked back to where Rolfe stood, the Pirate lord's voice was smug, expression amused. He was toying with her. Playing the flame that was her spirit. There behind the desk stood a man who wholly believed he was essential. By the expression on the young Queen's face, she knew he wasn't. He smirked at her; Rolfe knew she needed him. Fenrys bite back a smirk at the realisation that was surely to smack into the Pirate lord any second.

"You once said I would pay for my arrogance. And I did. Many times. But Sam and I took on your entire city and fleet and destroyed it. All for two hundred lives you deemed less then human, so perhaps I've been underestimating myself. Perhaps I don't need you after all"

There it was.

Rolfe's face contorted and unhinged anger replaced his shock, "Did Sam die still pining after you, or did you finally stop treating him like filth?"

Fenrys sighed and closed his eyes as there was a clatter of objects and a resounding thump. Peeling eyes open to look, Rowan had crossed the room and slammed Rolfe into the desk, tight hand wrapped around his throat. Rolfe's eyes had bulged in panic, fear clouding his view of the Fae male caging him into his office desk. The map and object now scattered across the room.

"I told you to choose your words carefully, Rolfe" 

Fenrys didn't even try to hide his amusement when he shared a look with Gavriel, the pair of them recognising the feral tenseness to Whitethorn's shoulders. 

"Nice to meet you" Gavriel's son spoke softly, nodding to Rolfe's form which was still trapped to the desk, leaving Rolfe on that side of the room by himself with Whitethorn. The panic returned to his expression at that notion.

The room watches as Rowan leans in, teeth bared as he whispers something to Rolfe. The captain's face paled and Fenrys didn't think it was due to the lack of Oxygen reaching his head.

Rowan released Rolfe with a final hard shove into the surface, before he backed off, stalking back to Aelin's side, she smiled at him. 

Rolfe shakes himself off, leaning into the desk for support as his body swayed. Fenrys noticed the moment he ceased all movement, eyes catching onto the ink as it seeped right across his whole hands. The tattoo becoming no more than... darkness itself.

Rolfe's face had paled even more then before when his head snapped up to look out the window as a chaos of bells begun to ring out from the watch towers, the cities early warning signals screaming into the air around the bay.

"We leave. Now" Aelin's voice rung into the tense air, her voice somehow more prevalent than the bells chiming.

Rolfe wasn't paying mind to her as he raced around to the door, when he threw it open two men came running up to him, His First mate and quartermaster. Aelin caught the door where it swung, shutting it behind Rolfe as he exited the room, his voice muffled when he spoke hurriedly to his men.

Finally, Fenrys rose, looking to the window, mindlessly he spoke while he watched the rushed people in the bay below, "Remind me never to get on your bad side" — The Heir of Fire smiled.

The Young King of Adarlan moved, shifting his feet to look out the window, "If that force reaches this town, These people—"

"It won't" Came Aelin's quick reply, she didn't look at her friend however, Rowan held her gaze, they stayed like that for a few seconds, unblinking. Fenrys was about to break the silence when Rowan spoke.

"Let's go"

"Go," Fenrys waved his hand around before pointing out the window, towards the bay and the force barreling towards it, "Where?"

"There's a boat" Aedion seemed to instruct to no one in particular, "Anchored on the other side of the island." this time Aedion looks across to the female shifter stood at his side, he smiles at her. Fenrys could feel Gavriel shift beside him, leaning in as though he was still getting used to hearing the sound of his son's voice. Aedion smiles, the expression so similar to that of the man stood across from him, "You'd think they'd notice a skiff being tugged out to sea by a shark last night, but—"

The door to the office slammed open and Rolfe, expression enraged, "You."

He pointed at Aelin, he was met with her notorious smirk as she held her own hand over her chest, "Me?"

"You sent that magic out there; you summoned them"

The heir to the throne in Terrasen laughed, the sound a bellyaching sound that Fenrys smirked at.

"If I ever learn such a useful talent, I'd use it for summoning my allies, I think. Or the Mycenians, since you seem so adamant they don't exist."

Aelin's calm eyes assessed Rolfe before she looked out the window, eyeing the horizon line, "Good luck" she side stepped him.

"What?" Dorian blurts out, taking a small step towards her, Aelin gave a soft look to the young king, one reprised from sorrow, from a girl who once would have and had been in his current place.

"This isn't our battle. And I won't sacrifice my kingdoms fate over a skirmish with the Valg. If you have any sense, you won't, either" Fenrys sucked in breath, those were not the words of a young princess who had loads to learn about the world. Those were the words of a Queen willing to do the dirty work to save her loved one, and who had already sacrificed so much to gain her wisdom.

Rolfe's face contorts as though he had just realised the same thing.

"I suppose the Cadre will be coming with me, too. Since they're now my allies" As though they were one, Fenrys moved to Aelin's side of the room, Gavriel close behind. "I meant what I said Rolfe. I can do fine without you, Armanda or no, Mycenian or no. And this island has now become dangerous to my cause"— "I'll offer a prayer to Mala for you"

Aelin pats the hilt of Goldryn, "A bit of advice, from one professional criminal to the other: cut off their heads. It's the only way to kill them. Unless you burn them alive, but I bet most would jump ship and swim to shore before your flaming arrows can do much damage"

Fenrys watched as Rolfe looked hopeless at her words, he glanced to his own sword hung at his side. Adams's apple bobbing as he gulped.

"And what of your idealism— What of the child who stole two hundred slaves from me? You'd leave the people of this island to perish?"

There was a moment of silence before Aelin answered "Yes"—" I told you Rolfe, that Endovier taught me some things"

The blood in Fenrys' veins seemed to freeze at her words. She was willing to leave these people to fend for themselves. Did that make her any better to those leaders who left Terrasen standing alone all those years ago? Or was as this perhaps the payback the world deserved?

Fenrys couldn't help but wish Brielle was stood at his side right now, she would know where exactly to stand in this situation. And he would follow her no matter what her decision would be.

"Do you think Sam would stand for this?" Rolfe was turning desperate now, his voice cracking when he swore.

"Sam is dead," her reply was straight for the bone, "Because men like you and Arobynn have power. But Arobynn's reign is now over" she pauses to peer outside once more, a ghosted smile on her lips. "Seems like yours might end rather soon as well"

"You Bitch"

There was a resounding snarl from Rowan that made the skin on Rolfe's bones flinch.

The sound of pounding footsteps fled down the hallway outside, a body falling into the door frame. The figure stopped and Rolfe's quartermaster gazed in at them all before his panic eyes caught Rolfe's, "We are knee-deep in shit"

"How bad?"

"Eight warships, teeming with soldiers— at least a hundred on each, more on the lower levels I couldn't see. They're flanked by two sea-Wyverns. All moving so fast that it's like storm winds carry them"

At the mention of the of the aquatic beasts the air in the office stills, the creatures known globally for their aggression and natural instincts to hunt in packs. Wildy territorial and protective of their young. Much like the aerial beasts they too could sack a city, like Skulls Bay of its people within minutes, with the right motivation.

"How quickly can we get to that boat?" Aelin asked Rowan specifically 

Fenrys followed Rolfe's gaze as he looked out at the few ships docked in at the harbour. The people living here wouldn't last long if the soldiers got onto land. Families, brother, sister, children— generations of bloodlines wiped within seconds. For years at Maeve's side, blocking out morals was the only way to survive, unless you were someone like Lorcan who seemed to have switched off all emotion entirely.  Fenrys had quickly learned to do the same, until he met Brielle. Then everything changed, he changed.

"Those Sea-Wyverns will snap that chain. Get your people off this island. Use every skiff and sloop you have and get them out." Fenrys hadn't meant for his words to sound angry, but somehow without his willingness they had.

His anger suddenly didn't seem misplaced as Rolfe seemed to ignore him and spun back around to face Aelin. 

"Is this your attempt to call my bluff?"

Aelin toyed with the hair hanging down her neck, "No. It's convenient timing, but no."

At that Rolfe fell silent, expression stoic as he looked around the room, taking a second per person. Aelin, Rowan, the young king, the two Fae warrior, the general with a reputation strong enough to shake a nation, and a woman with a deadly affinity. The power of each individual unique enough to be talked about for centuries later. But here they stood, Together.

"I want to be admiral. I want this entire archipelago. I want Ilium. And when this war is over, I want Lord in front of my name, as it was before my ancestors' names long ago, What of my payments?"

Aelin's distinct-able excitement flashed in her eyes with every word he spoke, "For every Morath ship you sack, you can keep whatever gold and treasure is aboard it. But weapons and ammunition go to the front, I'll give you land but no royal title beyond those of Lord of Ilium and King of the Archipelago. If you bear any offspring, I will recognise them as you heir— as I would any children Dorian might bear"

The young King is quick to agree, "Adarlan will recognise you and your heirs, and this land as your"

Rolfe shifts as he takes in their words with criminal concentration, " You send those bastards down to the inky blacks, and my fleet is yours. I cannot guarantee the Mycenian will rise. Only a small number live here, and they will not rise, though without proper... motivation"

The heir of fire smiles and extends her slender pale hand out to the captain, "Leave that to me"

Fenrys couldn't help but glance to Rowan, at the vacant expression and lines of his face, if Rowan had any inclination on Aelin's plans, he did well to hide it.

Rolfe reaches across the air to clasp Aelin's hand, the veins coming to the surface when he forcefully shook her hand, Aelin returned the gesture. Rolfe let a small hiss slip from his lips, widened eyes looking down to his hand. 

"Welcome to her Majesty's army, Privateer Rolfe."

"Shall we?" A gesture to the exit

They all begin to make way for the door as Fenrys slips up beside Whitethorn, "Gods help you Rowan, that women is..."

Rowan is quick to pass a look to him over his shoulder, an eyebrow quipped upwards towards his stark white hair, "Speak for yourself Fenrys"

They had all dealt with Brielle for years, but for some reason this interaction with Aelin had Fenrys worries setting alight once more. If they did not get along when Brielle arrived, which he had no doubt she would. God's help them all...

Fenrys falls back a step, into line with Gavriel who is walking slowly, watching his son. A silent step behind him and the dark haired female shifter.

"Every ship that can bear men sails Now" Rolfe began to rattle off command after command to his men that had gathered. His crew faces' going deathly paler as they bore witness to the unhinged panic in Rolfe's voice, the wind ripping around them carrying the sound.

Aelin watched hand rested to her hips,. Rowan once more at her side. When Rolfe finally dispersed the group off to a different task he turned back, Aelin already voicing her awaiting question.

"What's your fastest ship?"

Rolfe looks her head to toe once more before he doesn't hesitate to point at a boat in the harbour, finger a line with his own boat, sat swaying in the waves. Aelin is on them once again, "Rowan, Lysandra, Fenrys and Gavriel you're with me Aedion, you get on the northern watchtower"

Gavriel's gaze finally tore from his son, moving to look at Rowan, then Fenrys. His usual placid and soft smile was replaced with something far far older. An expression they had all borne one time or another whilst serving Maeve.

Fenrys could taste it on the tip of his tongue, the air in the room shifting with Aelin's words. Like sparks of electricity or embers from a fire flung into the air. Igniting the oxygen. Stuffing his head with a fuzzy feeling.

This feeling is all too familiar, the killing calm before a war. The calm before the storm.

Aelin finished addressing them, turning to Dorian the young king already had protests in his eyes when she finally spoke to him, her voice more serious then commanding. 

"This battle is no place for a king"

"And it is for a queen?" his response was angry and demanding from her, rooted clearly from fear and worry then anything else.

Aelin brought forth a sword, Fenrys hadn't realized she'd been holding it, holding it up to Dorian. He hesitated at first before reaching to take it from her. Aelin's own sword still strapped to her, "One of us has to live, Dorian. You take the southern watchtower, and get your magic ready. Any forces that try to cross the chain, you take them out"

His acceptance of the task was shown when he shifted and strapped the scabbard to his side. "And what are you going to do?"

At that moment she looks to Rowan, "Rolfe get whatever iron chains you have left from your slave-mongering. We're going to need them."

The skin across his bones shifted and skittered at her words, at the power she was readying to let loose on the world. And suddenly Dorian's words from before came whizzing back to him.

One does not deal with Celeana Sardothian, one survives her. Fenrys watched the queen from where she stood, Whitethorn at her side, both preparing for their power to be unleashed. He smirked. The same could not be said about this queen. One would have been lucky to survive her altogether.

~

The world seemed to cleave in two when Aelin's hand slowly began to lower towards the unaware city. Her slender fingers extended out ready to unleash the moon fire upon the unwilling people in the townways watching from on shore.

Rowan leapt in front of her so quickly Fenrys almost didn't track the movement in time as Aelin stumbled and quickly jerked her entire body in effort. A battle raging beneath the surface.

Her power cleaved into the side of the boat below everyone's feet. The world falling away from beneath them.

Fenrys didn't have any other time to register what was happening. The whole vison of it all a blur, a cloud of smoke.

The voices of Rowan and Rolfe had yelled out as the ship rocked and people were sent flying to either sides of the ship, desperately grabbing to one another.

The screams of men resounding and pounded in his head when Fenrys, Gavriel and Rowan leapt from the ships splintering deck. Aelin's body no where in sight.

Rowan had been frantic and had practically ripped Fenrys' throat out when he grabbed the older male by the scruff of the neck, Gavriel holding onto Fenrys forearm, as though he knew what was about to happen.

Whatever his power was deep inside of him Fenrys dove into it, driving it to the surface. One second they were in the choas of debris, burning along the surface of the water, the next solid ground was below them.

Rowan had collapsed to his knees, and only caught a glimpse of Fenrys before he alone vanished once more. His form a solitary splash in the water metres off the shore where he had left his two oldest companions.

Aelin's body had been hot when Fenrys grabbed hold of her despite the waters frigid bit, ripping the chains from her body with feral efficiency. Gripping her under the arm with his elbow braced across her chest, Fenrys willed every part of his muscles to hurry when the water shifted below them.

The darkness of his power shifted across him as he delved into it once more.

Adjusting his grip against her soaking body he kept pulling up more and more.

The magic in his blood tugged right back, aching every part of him as he felt his grip loosen around Aelin slightly.

"I've got you," he repeated more to himself them Aelin. He wasn't even sure she was fully conscious yet.

"Majesty" his throat was sharp against the cold of the water, words a question and command in themselves.

The screaming continued around them when Aelin shifted. The magic was scratching his skin now.

" Hold on" she shifted. " Don't let go" was all he could manage as he teleported them once more, the air pushing them together.

Aelin seemed a little more awake when they landed back in the water. She whimpered something that faintly sounded like 'Rowan' the sound more akin to a sob then anything.

Fenrys was panting when he rasped out, "He's on the reef— He's fine"

Fenrys didn't have the strength to fight her when she thrashed from his grip, her head dipped below the surface before coming back up. Her gasp for air so violent it shot Fenrys into motion once more.

"You have to swim," she didn't move, " Right now, As fast as you can!"

Aelin had turned around to take in the screaming around her, the utter carnage which Deanna had released through her hand.

"Swim now," Fenrys snapped, voice a bark of a command, grabbing Aelin by her collar and shoving her in front of her Fenrys relaxed when she finally started kicking and pushing her body through the waves.

"Faster!"

They were nearing the shore now, Rowan had sheathed his sword and was composed enough to enter the water. He swam for them, Aelin seemed eager to grab for him but he didn't let her, pushing past and urging her forward, less forcefully then Fenrys had second before.

They were both behind her now. Guarding in the way Fae males instinctively knew how.

Gavriel was at the edge of the coral, hand extended, Aelin reached and was hauled from the water in front of them a second after.

She crashed to her knees and the two of them in the water raced out, Rowan landed to face her, grabbing to looking her in the eyes.

"I'm fine" her breathes we uneven and ragged, the words without meaning as thought she didn't quite believe them. "I'm me"

Fenrys was struggling to hear her words altogether now, her voice muffled like his head was stuck underwater. His total depletion of magic sapping his senses to their dregs. His skin was rigid, lungs tight. Leaning forward with both hands clasped to his knees was the only way for him to keep himself conscious as his magic, or lack there of left him lightheaded.

For years he had gotten mad at Brielle when she would push herself to a burnout, he couldn't imagine the row he might have received if she was here with them now. The warmth of Gavriel's body neared him, his heart beat pounding in his ears so loud he couldn't even hear the other males approach.

Aelin had looked in his direction now, his loose strands of hair clung around his neck when he tilted his head back to look towards Rowan. 

Rowan's eyes flickered with a residue of worry as he looked at the awkward uncomfortable looking arch of Fenrys' body. 

"I'm out— We'll have to either wait for it to replenish or swim to shore" his words rippled across them, when each of them looked to the water. To what lurked beneath the surface of the waves that rolled and crash a few paces from where they all stood, not totally unaware to what might happen to them if they stepped into the water once more.

There was a sharp whip of wind that had Fenrys straightening up slightly, like a phantom touch one second it was there the next gone, the familiar scent. His heart stopped beating for what felt like a minute before the wind died down, as though it had run out of air to throw at them. 

Lysandra's jade green lithe body shot through the water directly infront of them, the noise of men yelling out as the sea dragon sailed them across the water, gliding with effortless grace.

Rolfe, and his crew among the men, Lysandra snapped them towards the shore with a gently nudge from her body before she turned with a new purpose.

The surface of the water broke as men screams, and disappeared below the waves, the noise drove Lysandra as she dove back down. The ripples of water the only indication as to where she was beneath the waves. Heading straight for Morath. The highly attuned body gliding through the water,

Fenrys had fully managed to straighten himself up now, his magic no loner a crippling feeling roiling within him, he felt the tide respond when a resounding boom burst through the air, as the first ship fell victim to the female shifter.

Aelin had now pressed herself to Rowan, connected by the hands as they watched Lysandra race for the second ship. There was a splash of water and the slap of a fin against the surface. 

The Sea Dragon and Wyvern had finally clashed.

The two beasts thrashing at one another, Aelin made a noise Fenrys hadn't expected, The whole bay watching on as blood bloomed from the water, the cold spray being spat up heavenwards, the two beasts seeming content to even notify the gods of the war they now raged against one another.

He didn't know if he would have been able to hear it without his Fae hearing, but his magic riled the moment Lysandra snapped the sea-wyvern's neck. The scent of blood tang against his tongue.

Only one aquatic beasts came away from that encounter. The jade green a quick flash before she dove back down once more. 

Gavriel shifted beside Fenrys, reaching for his sword, eyes alert while he scanned the water. It seemed the sea Dragon realised it the same time they all did as the second Wyvern raced towards where they stood.

With what little stregth he did have, Fenrys reached for the blades at his side, taking a step infront of Aelin, Gavriel tight to his side.

The jade raced through the water, like a flash of lightening, but even as she swam Fenrys could sense the weakeness coursing through her body, she was injured.  Her strength would go next before her will did.

Lysandra smashed her body into the Wyverns before it could get within twenty meters of them, the two bodies cracking into the coral, the ground under their feet shaking in response.

A flash of motion whipped from behind Fenrys, looking over his shoulder he saw the image of Rowan grapping for Aelin when she darted for the water, to go and aid her friend.

There was a splash behind them that seemed to drive Aelin forwards, despite the tiredness being evident in her muscles, she manged to evade Whitethorn, arching her body downwards past him, only to launch herself right into Gavriel's awaiting grip. He grunted with effort as she writhed to be let go, yelling out as Lysandra dragged the Wyvern through the water, driving and drawing it towards the second ship she had been yet to destroy.

Rowan calmed Aelin down within seconds, and only after Rowan looked to Gavriel did he let her go. She still looked like she was going to bolt, but her eyes were trained against the water. She watched on silently while Lysandra laid waste against the Wyvern, smashing it into the ship, annihilating both beasts and ship when she snapped them in two.

There was an eruption of cheer from the crew gathering on the shore line of skulls bay. Their Sea dragon had saved them. Aelin had a content smile on her face when Fenrys glanced back to check she was still there.

It was then he saw the utter paleness atoning her face, Gavriel and Rowan bearing the same expression.

Aelin face broke as she screamed out to her friend, whipping back to the vast waters before them Fenrys felt his magic hault inside him. 

Three adult sea wyverns and a warship now sailed right into the harbor, straight for the jade Sea Dragon which held the line between Morath and all those she had fought so fiercely to defend until now.

Fenrys tracked the movement of Gavriel's son, still atop the northern watchtower as he leapt from the seat of the harpoon, his face an ashen color, far to similar to Aelin's and Gavriel's. He too screamed out when Lysandra made no move to swim away to save herself. No the jade Sea dragon, despite being run ragged with exhaustion launched herself forwards once more, the warning and yells of even Rolfe's crew far behind as she swam straight for Morath. Taking them head on.

Aelin had mounted herself  atop of Whitethorn's shoulder when he looked back once more, tears streaked her face as she watched her friends dragon form fly through the water with deadly efficiency.

The first Wyvern raced through, cutting off when Lysandra made a last second shift in the water, her wings propelling her on faster, her movement slower then before, Fenrys tracked the sight of her head a second before she burst from the water. 

Water rained down from her scales as she soared over the warship, the Bull following her lead, using her tail like a whip, Lysandra raked it down into the ship, the masts splintering and falling. The Wyverns body was skewered second later, crashing down on top of the ship, cleaving it in two.

Frantic signalling from Dorian, still at the base of the southern watchtower caught Fenrys' attention the same time it caught Lysandra's. As soon as she landed back in the water the second Bull was upon her, she snapped side ways, evading its jaws when it snapped for her. 

Her whole body slunk downwards as she raced for Dorian, Fenrys could only watch with the others as Dorian braced himself against the rocks, hand held high when Lysandra approached faster and faster, she banked hard at the last second, allowing Dorian to unleash the full might of his power against the Wyvern. The ice raced through the water, trapping the beasts in place, it managed to crack through the first wave, but Dorian pushed harder and harder until the ice fully encased the bull. He let loose a shiver inducing war cry as a catapult was hurled from behind him, shattering the bull entirely.

People cheer across the bay, a chill runs down Fenrys' spine, the noise froze the air as the Sea dragons head popped up from under the waves, blood bloomed from multiple cuts but Lysandra began looking. She had lost the final bull.

It was Gavriel that yelled, hands cupping his lips, Fenrys felt the brush of the other males magic "YOUR LEFT!"

Lysandra ducked beneath the waves once more when the final bull raced after her, Aelin's voice was one amongst many that screamed out across the bay. Urging the dragon to just swim faster.

"Shit!" Aelin hissed, the three males looked to her, she met their gazes, her eyes panicked, tears stained her cheeks as her head snapped back up and she pointed to the harbour, to where a new, much bigger and darker Sea Wyvern now swam. Straight for the bull and Lysandra.

A sob cracked through Aelin, she screamed until her voice broke, the sound stopping, her voice now silent.

Lysandra raced across the bay towards the northern watchtower and Aedion, the snap of the bull inches from her tail, its claws extended outwards towards her, reaching to grab — the new darker Wyvern slammed into its side, wide eyes glowing with the hunt, its threw the Bull from the water, Lysandra didn't stop her swimming until she was a distance away enough to watch as the new Sea Wyvern clawed and bit the bull, its blood staining the water.

A mass noise of shock and confusion cracked through Skulls Bay.

Fenrys wasn't sure Aelin or anyone else was breathing until it happened.

As though a veil of power was ripped off from around his senses, it smacked Fenrys square in the chest, heart pounding. The sheer presence of them knocked him back a few paces into Gavriel, both him and Rowan now gaping outwards towards the city, 

Those scents, so familiar, Fenrys' words clogged in his throat, but Gavriel smirked, that ancient expression coming to the surface once more.

"The Pride has arrived"

☽⋆❈⋆☾

Aedion's heart stopped when the second Wyvern collided into the side of the bull, a wave of shock rippled through skulls bay. Lysandra continued towards him, his breath hitched as the two wyverns now violently fought, in no way did it look anything but... easy for the newcomer.

Aedion spied a new figure approaching Dorian at the southern watchtower a second before he heard a near feral female voice drawl

"Why hello Nephew."

. . .

A/N: I'm sorry it took me this long to update, but hope you enjoy ;)

Taglist: @dreamiezpsycho @lunaralaraspace @mis-lil-red @mali22

Next Part

#throne of glass #fenrys moonbeam #fenrys x o.c #empire of storms #tower of dawn #kingdom of ash #aelin #gavriel #rowan #sarah j mass #throne of glass fanfic #throne of glass fanfiction

[brezchez]

Daylight

----------

A/N: Hey!! 2nd Zelink fanfic whoa look at me go. So I should really be revising for my mocks especially since I have two exams tomorrow but hey @zelinkcommunity 's prompt week of "Daybreak & Twilight" is ending tomorrow and I really wanted to get this done soooo.

Priorities 🤌

Anyway yeah this is my submission for this week's prompt and I hope you enjoy it as much I did writing it! :)

(Psst! You can read this on Ao3 too! 👇)

--------

Link always found himself wrapped in the passage of time. From the elegance of the moon descending into the depths of the horizon of the Necluda Sea to the tranquillity of the sun arising over the glistening waters to take its place – he knew that he was never able to truly hold onto a moment, yet he tried as much as he could anyway.

It was a trait he had inherited from his past life. Or at least, that was what he could deduce from the fragmented pieces he was able to find since he awakened for the first time in a hundred years months ago. They seemed to happen spontaneously, triggered by the most random of objects, feelings, scents or places. And it appeared to be happening again now.

The skies lightened from a midnight blue to a hazy purple with streaks of orange as the sun gradually began to peek over the horizon. For the world, the night was ending, but for Link, everything was beginning again.

----------

Hyrule Field

The gentle sounds of moving hooves filled the silent morning air as Zelda travelled through the fields of Hyrule. As always, she was accompanied by her knight, unfortunately, and though his presence irked her as it constantly did, the princess tried not to let it sour her mood. She supposed that it wasn’t fair to blame him since he was only following orders given to him by the King, but due to her frustrations piling up over the past few weeks, all moral reasoning was simply filtered out.

Still, she didn’t intend to travel to Gerudo Town in awkward silence for the entire trip. “We’ll get as far as we can to the desert before dusk. If the universe allows it, I hope we can continue into the night safely enough as I do not want to waste time,” Zelda said, turning to her knight in hopes of gaining a response from him.

But of course, all she was given was a blank stare. She was foolish to gamble her chance with luck that was never in her favour, especially regarding her damned knight.

The princess sighed, her face scrunching up and cringing for a brief moment at the awkwardness of the moment. Just hang on, Zelda, she thought to herself. At least I’ll be seeing Urbosa later. I hope she can help with this.

----------

Gerudo Desert

“Someone help!” Zelda screamed as she sprinted through the blazing sands of the desert. The sun, at its highest peak of the day, flared its scorching rays down on her, amplifying the gallons of sweat dripping from her body, despite the elixir she had taken earlier.

She looked around, frantically searching for her knight. But to no avail. All she could see was a blur of muted yellows and the occasional flashes of red.

The Yiga.

The princess ran. And ran. And ran. Her legs, fueled by the blood she could feel pumping through her body, carried her across the sands with no sense of direction in mind. She didn’t care where she was going. All she knew was that she had to get away.

But suddenly her path was cut, as two Yiga members appeared before her. Zelda tried to turn back, but was blocked by another assassin waiting for her.

Losing her balance, the princess fell to the ground. Eyes darting between the three of them, she watched as the assassins edged closer, like a pack of hungry wolves surrounding their helpless prey. One approached her, menacingly, with their blade glistening with murderous intent under the burning sun. She didn’t need to see under that goddess forsaken masl to see that the assassin was grinning excitedly.

Zelda wanted to scream, beg, cry, but any sense of words or noise fell dead on her tongue. It was hopeless. The assassin raised their sickle, the inverted eye glaring into Zelda’s soul. And as it came crashing down, Zelda closed her eyes and braced herself.

But there was no pain.

She heard the vicious blade fall into the sands and a lifeless body fall limp behind her, and as she looked up, Zelda froze in awe.

It was Link.

The princess’ knight, with the legendary sword firmly in hand, stood defiantly against the remaining two Yiga, who backed away hesitatingly at the slightest movement from him. After all this time, all the bitterness, all the pettiness, all the petulant yelling she had thrown at him, Link was by her side, as loyally fierce as any soldier of the royal army would be.

Zelda gazed in wonder at the cerulean blue eyes that stared down the assassins, who she almost forgot were still there. There was no hesitation, no fear, no doubt in his abilities – traits that Zelda could only dream of possessing; his beauty wasn’t the only aspect of Link that she was jealous of.

Link gestured with a nod of his head to run or hide somewhere safe. And Zelda ran immediately behind a rock not too far away. Sinking down behind it, the princess regained her breath and gathered her thoughts, wiping the beads of sweat from her brow. Timidly, she peeked over the rock to catch a glimpse of Link once more.

Something warm, something fuzzy, something new emerged within Zelda as she watched her knight fend off the assassins. She wasn’t immediately aware of it, but it was there nonetheless.

----------

Sandin Park

The trees whispered a gentle tune into the quiet air, the wind carrying it across the grass to two horses and their riders. The princess and her Hero rode side-by-side under the orange light, the sun illuminating their path as its blinding yellow shifted to a glowing amber and midday deepened into twilight.

“Be sure to take the time to soothe your mount. That’s the only way it will know how you truly feel,” Zelda echoed the words Link had told her a couple days ago. Gently patting her noble steed, she thanked her knight for his words of wisdom, remarking on how her relationship with her companion was improving.

She didn’t turn around to expect a response from him anymore; Zelda grew out of her habit of snapping at his silence ever since he had saved her from the Yiga in the desert. The experience, though traumatising, allowed them to bond and grow closer as a pair. Dare she say, they even formed a friendship.

It was then that the princess was even able to get her knight to open up to her. He relayed his worries and his stresses. It seemed to be that a weight was lifted off his shoulders once he confessed his problems to her, and finally she was given a reason behind his absence of words. Zelda felt so grateful that Link felt comfortable enough to confess the heavy conflicts that plagued his mind to her, and in return, she was able to do the same.

There was something about the way he looked at her as he listened that made Zelda feel like she was the only girl in the world. Maybe it was the way he shuffled nearer to her. Maybe it was the way his striking eyes bore into the deepest parts of her soul. Maybe it was the way his body seemed to lean towards her, cautiously closing the distance between them ever so slightly

Whatever it was, Zelda found it endearing and yearned to learn more about him. Despite their friendship blossoming, Link continued to be somewhat reserved and quiet. Zelda soon learned that it was simply the boy’s nature. But she didn’t mind all that much anymore. Besides, his silence could often be quite soothing.

Arriving at Sandin Park, the pair allowed their horses, as well as themselves, a moment of rest during their weary journey. Catching sight of a mountain in the distance, Zelda walked slowly to the edge of the park, barriered off by a fence. The very sight of its shadow made her heart shiver, as if she were already in the freezing spring water that awaited her.

“See that mountain?” said Zelda, her voice as soft as silk and fragile as glass. “That’s Mount Lanayru,” she continued. Link noticed the slight shaking in the syllables of her words and the nervousness that wavered on her voice as she explained the rules of the spring. He knew that his expression revealed no hints to his feelings, but his heart broke at hearing the closest friend he had ever had in years speak demeaningly about herself. It wasn’t explicitly said, but it was clear Zelda’s self-esteem wasn’t exactly at its highest.

“Tomorrow, is my seventeenth birthday,” Zelda said, her words weighted with a heavy burden. “So then I shall go… and make my way up the mountain.”

Her stare was firm and hardened by the responsibility she carried on her shoulders; it pained Link to see how much it affected her. When the princess turned back around to the mountain, shadowed by the dusking sun, Link stepped towards her, carefully and quietly.

“You don’t deserve this.”

If it were any other moment in the past, Zelda’s head would have shot up in surprise at the foreign sound of his voice. But she didn’t. The princess only sighed at his statement.

“It doesn’t matter what I deserve. The needs of the kingdom are put first and foremost before my own. And that is how it will always be,” replied Zelda, her tone strong but with a hint of hesitation that couldn’t be hidden.

“But it hurts me to see this burden weigh you down so harshly,” Link continued, turning to her, prompting her to do the same.

“It seems we both have shadows of an expectation to follow. But we have no one to blame. Fate placed us on this path, so we must follow it,” the princess answered, her eyes fixed on Mount Lanayru determinedly.

Link gazed at her for a moment. Allowing himself a minute to soak in the tranquillity of her beauty and the comfort of her presence whilst he still could. As the Hero’s eyes wandered across the Princess’ features, he felt his breath being taken by the sunlight shining behind her, forming a sort of halo around her head. Her emerald eyes sparkled with wonder like the jewels they resembled and her golden locks flowed in the wind like water in a river.

A few days ago, he had been bestowed the privilege of seeing the princess’ wonderful smile. She was one of those rare people, who managed to capture the very essence of the sun in her smile. Warmth, care, love, happiness and light radiated from her smile like the rays of a dawning new day. He was sure he would never find any other like it.

They say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but to Link, that simply was not true. Everything else dulled in comparison to Zelda. There was no argument to it. She was ethereal.

Link hoped that he would continue to see her beauty, inside and out, until his dying days.

----------

Fort Hateno

Rain plummeted down into the ground as the wind violently shook the branches of the trees around Fort Hateno. The skies cried for the victims of the massacre, relentlessly pouring down as it wept for the innocent souls that had been taken too soon from the world. It seemed that Hylia herself was mourning for her people. Guardians infested the fields around Fort Hateno, annihilating any living organism in its sights.

All except two.

“Link, save yourself! Go!” Zelda pleaded with her knight, holding onto his shoulders desperately. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me!”

But Link never abandoned Zelda before, not when she snapped at him, and he certainly would not now, even when she was begging him.

The Hero’s body shook from exhaustion. His muscles cried and his bones screamed all in unison for him to stop, to lay down and rest. But Link refused. Gathering every last ounce of his strength, he drew out his sword from the soil, and continued to stand.

Suddenly, a guardian spotted them. Its dreaded eye remained fixed on the pairs’ position as it rapidly wade its way through the dozens of broken guardians scattered around them. It positioned itself above them, towering over the hylians ominously, like the dark clouds that thundered in the sky above.

It sets its tracker on Link. Zelda’s heart dropped to her stomach. Before she knew it, the princess wedged herself between the guardian and the hero and instinctively raised her hand up towards the machine. All at once, a luminescent power beamed from her, and she could feel the power stemming from her heart all through to her hand.

“Was… was that… the power?!-”

A heavy thud behind her interrupted her thoughts. Zelda had no time to question what just happened. Not when Link was on the verge of-

No. She wouldn’t even dare think it.

“Link! No, no, no!” she cried, lifting his fragile body in her arms as much as she could. The blood Link coughed out from his lungs splattered everywhere, but Zelda didn’t care.

“You’re going to be just fine…”

But Link knew he wouldn’t be. They both did.

Turning his head to her with the very last fragment of strength he possessed, Link met her eyes. They still sparkled as wonderfully as the jewels they resembled, despite the tears that glossed them. Her golden hair still flowed in the wind like water in a river, despite the mud and dirt that soiled it. And her smile. Her wondrous smile. The princess was frowning, but Link could still see the ghost of her radiant smile on her lips, just as he could hear the faintest echo of her laugh.

He thought back to that one day, under the Irch Plain tree, when the sun was shining upon them, and the flowers were dancing to the music of their happiness. He thought back to that one dusking sunset at Sandin Park, when he was blessed with the opportunity to see Zelda’s beauty in all its splendour. How funny that their paths had brought them here. With Link, dying in his princess’ arms and Zelda, cradling her hero as his soul edged further and further gradually from him.

Still, he knew there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

With a final, small smile ghosting his lips, Link’s body fell limp in Zelda’s embrace.

----------

Link’s eyes opened. As his senses returned to him, the hero recalled the events that he had just seen. That was certainly strange. He had already recovered most of those memories in the past, with only the new one being their extended conversation at Sandin Park and what may have seemed to be his feelings of affection towards her. But the majority he had already found.

How peculiar.

Staring off into the sea, the sun had now fully ascended over the horizon line, and its rays reflecting against the water now a luminescent pearly white colour, rather than the amber sparkles he remembered earlier. The dawn of a new day. Suddenly soft footsteps approached him from behind, prompting Link to turn around to see who they belonged to.

“Have you been up long?” Zelda asked, sitting beside him at the cliff edge.

“Ever since early dawn,” Link answered, turning to her with a small smile. Zelda returned it warmly then stared off into the distance.

“A memory returned to me. Or rather, a sequence of them,” he continued. The girl turned to him curiously.

“What was it?”

Link looked at her, contemplating whether he should relay all the details to her. “It was…”

Her eyebrow cocked expectantly as she waited for a response.

“It was strange,” replied Link.

“How so?”

“...They were memories I had already recovered. I was just reliving them,” he eventually said, gazing into her eyes.

They really did resemble emeralds…

“Well, I hope nothing too traumatic,” she lightly joked, placing her hands on his shoulders, jolting a sense of deja vu within him.

Link chuckled softly and shook his head. “No, no. It was actually quite lovely,” he remarked, gazing at the features he remembered that he admired so much.

“That’s good to hear then,” she said. And then Zelda smiled. With warmth, care, love and happiness; with the very same beauty they had captivated Link a century ago. 100 years hadn’t worn away from the sun inside her very soul.

And for that, Link couldn’t have been more grateful to the universe.

There was nowhere else he’d rather be.

#legend of zelda #link #botw link #botw zelda #zelda #botw zelink #zelink #legend of zelda breath of the wild #daybreak & twilight #opposites attract #zelink opposites attract #zelink community #zelink fanfiction #fanfic

[starkysa]

Cthulhu setting Assassin's Creed

(If someone wants to use this setting, just take it and write on the source. I'm glad to see anybody use this setting)

Altaïr ibn La-Ahad

Title: God of Sky and Assassination

Attribute: Air

Phase description: It is generally described as a large bird made of eyes, with two pairs of wings and razor-blade legs, and a red ribbon in the tail. It is said that this red ribbon is self-conscious (Ezio: It can strangle other people/great old ones).

Semi-human form: The arms are replaced by a pair of wings, the white fabric clothes on the lower body is looked like tentacled, all the eyes are transferred to the area covered by the clothes, and the blade-like legs are hidden. In general, Altaïr choose to float instend of walking.

Introduction: Fast and ruthless. Altaïr doesn't like water very much. He moves quickly and silently. Many people, including some great old ones, wonder what is under Altaïr' clothes, and there is always someone who takes the risk to pick it open. But no one knows what the result of doing is.

Apparitions: The sky darkens, a lot of air surges, lightning but no rain. (This is more likely in deserts and arid regions)

Symbolic sacrificial articles: throwing knives, hidden blades, several human ring fingers, red silk ribbons, sand, feathers, assassin's markers

Ezio Auditore da Firenze

Title: God of Fertility and Procreation

Attribute: ground

Phase description: Described as a melted black elk with goat eyes(devil eyes), red ribbon wrapped around its neck, and the spots on its back are all eyes, both eyes are goat eyes. The tail is made of fog and is shaped like a foxtail.

Semi-human form: one eye is normal and the other eye is like a goat. Elk antlers and ears are visible overhead without a hood. According to Ezio himself, the shape of the horn can be changed according to his own wishes. His legs resemble those of artiodactyla, retaining a fog-fox tail.

Introduction: Love some fancy things. The human form may be fascinating, but the real is the scariest of all great old ones. Not very fast. It is said that his singing can cause a significant drop in sanity, much faster than listening to Evie speaking. The great old ones or elder gods do not lower their sanity, but will shut him up immediately (Altaïr: His singing is terrible!) Because the tribute will have a lot of fruit, so it may be taken away by other great old ones (" Jacob you stole my tribute!" )

Apparitions: Moist smell emanates from the forest, mist appears, and the environment darkens. There is indescribable sounds from the depths. The trees bear fruit, but they all look strange. Everythings in views look like having a heightened contrast, as well as what will you see while eatening toadstool.

Symbolic sacrificial articles: Lace, several newborns, goats, cereal, dairy, eggs, antlers

Edward James Kenway

Title: God of Navigation and Wealth

Attribute: Water

Phase description: Looks like a shark, with tentacles on the belly, eyes on the side, and two fins like flying fish on the back.

Semi-human form: Shark teeth. Keep the fins on his back. All eyes are transferred to the tattoos on the body. The right hand is the octopus tentacle. When out of water, Edward has human legs; When in the water, keep the lower half of the shark's tail. Occasionally wearing a headband instead of a hood.

Introduction: Shipwreck Maker, especially when a merchant ship passes by. Like seeking treasure. He can fly, doesn't fly so much time but can go very high( especially if he is on a boat) Edward is not very fearful like other great old ones(Connor: That's if he's wearing clothes on his upper body), but high physical attacks. Very freewheeling, if you have money, he'll take it all. Connor is his grandson, and his son Haytham was taken to the temple in his time of weakness.

Apparitions: huge whirlpools around sailing ships, shoals of fish, lightning and thunder in the sky accompanied by torrential rain, hallucinations of boats floating in the sky, and hallucinations of barcaroling.

Symbolic sacrificial articles: Money and treasure, model boats or ship design drafts, shark teeth, guns, the vocal cords of several sailors

Connor（Ratohnhaketon）

Title: God of Forest and War

Attribute: ground

Description: The largest of the great old ones. It looks like a giant, two-headed Wolf, as tall as a mountain. Each Wolf's head has an upright eye right in the middle.

Semi-human form: Retain Wolf ears, tail, claws, limbs（can change into human arms) and canine teeth. The others are indistinguishable from humans.

Introduction: Looks horrible but actually very gentle. Although looks huge, but mainly physical combat rather than mental attacks (but gigaphobia caution). He is kind with the animals in the mountains and got along well with the other great old ones. Edward is said to be his grandfather, although they look like completely unrelated. Father Haytham seems to have given himself his identity as a great old one, and then become spiritually resistant ordinary people. According to Connor, Haytham's noumenon is also a deep-sea creature. (Actually, Connor wonders how his father didn't turn into an elder God.)

Apparitions: the mountains and everything shake, like an earthquake. People will feel something rolling over their bodies.

Symbolic sacrificial articles: wolf's teeth, bear gall, eagle's skull, oak, Indian tomahawk, blood from humans

Shay Patrick Cormac

Title: God of Deep Sea and Healing

Attribute: Water

Description: He has the body of a cod and the mouth of a lamprey, with a dense mouth of sharp teeth and eyes, and a tentacled neck.

Semi-human form: when not in water, he has legs and hands, eyes on ear fins, and a mask covering the mouth; In the water, the lower half of the codfish's tail is retained, the arms under the cloak become numerous tentacles, and the ear-fins and eyes remain. His face is covered with few fine fish scales, his teeth are sharp and tusked, and his tongue resembled a real snake, can make a hissing sound.

Introduction: A few in number of the great old ones can add the value of santiy(by singing), but see the noumenon will still drop sanity. Some people say that listening to the song still losing the santiy. (Shay: Duh, that's Ezio singing! Cover your ears common people!) He doesn't really like to go ashore, usually look like a swimmer in the water with a swimming ring. He looks very silent, but is actually a chatty person (There is a record of Shay can annoy Edward from the Atlantic to the Pacific). Every time he sees Arno, he feels guilty, and Arno is very confused about this. Although he is a templer, the species classification is still great old ones. The boss at the Templer is Haytham, Edward's son and Connor's father. Though his boss's immediate family are great old ones, Shay had never felt the same in Haytham. When Shay unexpectedly retires to semi-human form on a sea mission, Haytham remains undeterred and warns him to hide his tentacles. Shay, who watches other ordinary crew members shudder, realizes that Haytham is something special after all.

Apparitions: all the fish scatter, a cold feeling from the spine. The cold water is close to freezing temperature, and the body is gradually unable to move.

Symbolic sacrificial articles: Lampreys, deep-sea octopuses or King squid, bubbles in trenches, metal signs of templer, bodies mangled by earthquakes

Arno Victor Dorian

Title: God of Vengeance and Mists

Attribute: Fire

Description: The smallest of the great old ones. A chimera like a cheetah, a gazelle, and a peregrine falcon. In addition to the gazelle horns, the head has a pair of horns and a frontal horn. Has a mask, and the mask never taken off. The face behind the mask must not be saw, but from around the mask will spill tentacles. The front half of the body is classified as a cheetah, the back half like a gazelle, two pairs of peregrine falcon wings and two snake tails. All the spots on the body are eyes.

Semi-human form: Retains 2 pairs of wings, 2 tails, and horns can be seen faintly under the hood. Take off the hood and you can see all the corners. He can pull out his mask conveniently, but wear or not to see the mood (basically will not wear).

Introduction: The great old ones who has some conscientious than the others. He will try to reduce the santiy attacks on other creatures, but he doesn't know how to cure the pollutants that have lost their sanity. Arno, although he will control his power, he is still second to Ezio in the speed of seeing noumenon losing sanity value, so please do not to see his noumenon or you want to take a shortcut to life. The fastest great old ones, even a high speed camera can't record. Can summon bats under special circumstances. Have the ability of transfiguration, vision sharing, storage and so on.

Apparitions: A sudden mass of smoke, accompanied by dark red liquid oozing from the ground, chaotic scenes of falling heads and burning flames, accompanied by severe hallucinations.

Symbolic sacrificial articles: Baguette, coffee, peregrine feathers and cheetah hair, gazelle horn, human head/skull several, lit late 18th century style candle lantern, smoke bomb, Phantom blades

Jacob Frye Evie Frye

Title: God of Night and Tricks

Attribute: Air

Description: Twin great old ones, are made up of black mist like rooks, can see the mist mixed with eyes. Have the widest wingspan.

Semi-human form: Both have large black wings, ear and tail feathers. The feet are rookclaw. Jacob's eyes are covered with a white ribbon and his right hand is claw; Evie wears a beak mask and her left hand is claw.

Introduction: The god of Trick is also called the "God of looking for trouble", especially Jacob, the favorite thing to do is to pull other great old ones or elder gods fur (if have feather stealing feathers, if have scales stealing scales) more excessive once dragged Arno's tail flying around, finally Arno and Evie together beat him up. Love eyes and shiny gadgets. Can summon a flock of rooks at any time. As noisy as Shay, but maybe even worse. The eyes of the Jacob cannot be seen by humans, or it will lead directly to the loss of sanity; Evie speaking without a mask will slowly lowers the listener's sanity. Evie can be completely invisible when she is static. Jacob is very keen on picking on the elder gods of the templer, and collects feathers and scales from the the templer, as well as the eyes of the human templer (Evie: Jacob even separats the assassin's and temple's fur).

Apparitions: day turns into night, the stars disappear. A large flock of rooks hover overhead to form an eye. An auditory hallucination of hissing.

Symbolic sacrificial articles: things glittering with gold, several pairs of eyes, rooks' feathers, beak masks, cane sword or brass knuckle, collected bottles with the full moon

Bayek

Title: God of Guardian and Yellow Sand

Attribute: Fire

Description: A large cat with three tails. The legs are covered with feathers and appear as eagle claws, with wings on the shoulder blades and hipbones. The wings cannot fly, but they can glide in the air for a long time. There is nothing unusual in the direct view, but when he opens mouth can see the deep emptiness, eyes and sharp teeth.

Semi-human form: Ears and tail exposed, eagle claws and shoulder and crotch wings retained, hands are cat-like. But the mouth is still normal, or covered with an egyptian cotton square.

Introduction: Comparing with other great old ones, Bayek appears to be veracity and normal, and will not do any extra work outside the contract. (Arno: Naming and criticizing the Frye Twins. Shay: So are you.) Comparing with Altaïr, who hates water, Bayek has no special views on water, except that he easily evaporates when he is close to it (Altaïr: You scold?) because he is too good at disguising as normal people, and has no direct sanity attack. He was once thought to be an ordinary magical animal or even an ordinary human, until he was called out in a summons ceremony to confirm that this is a great old one. The oldest known of the great old ones.

Apparitions: sand envelopes the sky with clouds, water evaporates rapidly, the air becomes extremely dry, nearby dry plants will directly ignite.

Symbolic sacrificial articles: Eagle skull, sand, fur from a live purebred Egyptian cat, torches, iron balls soaked in human blood

Some miscellaneous：

It is Altaïr's original idea to become an assassin, and he is the first to put it into practice. The reason is that assassins can kill other invisibly, so that others who die of mental contamination or other strange causes can be blamed on their profession. (Shay: So casual.)

The Brotherhood of Assassins is still normal, but with great old ones worship. All the assassins' leap of faith and other very human things are also the reason for believing in the great old ones. (Jacob: Is it possible that Egio's illegitimate child… Don't stare at me, Evie! I've really been thinking about this!) Some of the assassins who have eagle vision are of the blood of the great old ones, some have made deals with them or are incarnations of the great old ones. The great old ones are in harmony with each other, not in a fire-and-water situation as traditional.

Part of the templer of this worldview is the elder gods, still opposed to the assassins. Shay may have made an exception to join the templer because of his healing skills (Actually he just wants to be at peace between the two powers), while Arno and Connor are relatively virtuous and some of the Temple are more relaxed about them. The temple will cure the pollutants affected by the ancient gods, and prevent them from being summoned, if necessary, the two sides will fight.

The Isu are Outer Gods, but they don't have the Pieces of Eden, and they are currently in a theatergoing state. But what the great old ones or elder gods left behind might be considered hallows (" Have you seen my top hat, Evie?" "Oh, the call table." "Come on, again?) The outer gods and the great old ones don't get along that well.

There are also cases where the three powers make a scene together. For example, Élise De Laserre is actually the incarnation of the elder god, but François-Thomas Germain, who is opposite her, is the incarnation of the outer god. Élise couldn't fight the outer god and then fell into a deep sleep, which was finally destroyed by Arno. (Incarnation fighting incarnation does not do much damage to the original body, so the Élise in this world is not dead, but her strength is exhausted and hibernated. At present, the Arno's incarnation is staying in this world in order to find a way to wake her up)

Great old ones and elder gods are immune to san attacks (Edward: except for Ezio's song, which should be included in physical attacks.) But not immune to mutual physical attacks. (Connor: Give me an arrow and I'll shoot down Ezio's lute.) When their incarnation are templers or assassins, the weapons are made of their own feathers or scales, so there is no issue of replenishing weapons, but sometimes the changes were quite wacky (Ezio: What do you do with my broomstick, I just sweep the leaves in front of my house… What's that? Cesare? Give him a broom!）

Here, the elder gods and the great old ones have the same attitude towards humans as the original, only more indifferent, and they don't have any actions if no one summons them. But Incarnations can walk around at will, so conflicts continue.

When the great old ones and elder gods are not summoned(Giving up of summon outer gods, you can't succeed), there will be incarnations, and the human form is one of the incarnations (semi-human is the appearance of half of the real). They may also become other creatures or objects. Assassins and templar-like humans are the most commonly used Incarnations. Biological Incarnations are unique and do not appear in the same species at the same point in time. Connor, for example, prefers animal incarnations such as wolves, eagles, or bears (but certainly different from normal animals, such as the two-headed wolf and the three-clawed eagle); Arno's preference for humanoid incarnations has something to do with his transfiguration. On rare occasions, Altaïr would dissolve himself into water droplets to observe. (Arno: He lost a bet. Jacob/Edward: LMAO)

#assassin's creed #assassinscreedseries

[mercless]

(( imagine that this was sent anonymously for ominous purposes )) Water drops rhythmically announced the humidity in this part of the caverns. Certain passages were said to flood at times of heavy rain; the result of years upon years of layering over Prime's ancient ruins. Critters dwelling in the darkness of these forsaken paths often sought the comfort of light at those times. Yet, not a single pest had moved that day; the cavernous tunnels felt dead and silent.

The city slept above, save for the incessant bellowing of war forges and the occasional march. Everything else was dealt in murmurs and whispers, under the cover of night. It was a perfect chance to surveil for shady happenings, should one know how to blend into moist walls and burrow into their crevices. A party of hooded figures may have drawn one's attention to a particular opening, outside which they had gathered, seemingly waiting for something.

They had been standing there for a good half hour, now, until a call was whispered; they all wore the same dark, shapeless cloak, covering their faces under its cowl. But when the moon blossomed to its full glory, the flicker of a match breathed life into their forms. A flash of red strands would protrude from the leading one's cover, as they opened the way for the procession. And their descend begun, walking through the gateway into the darkness bellow.

If it wasn't dangerous enough to traverse the underground, the wet season made it a whole other world. A slippery step could lead one down a makeshift waterfall of darkness. It would always drain away in time, though. Into deeper reservoirs, collected for use, or forgotten completely. The trench Talon investigated tonight was abandoned; its descending floor had collected a small murky pool, and multiple holes in the walls at different levels signalled its prior importance in controlling water levels. The attempted seals on most, giving away its deserted state. Ones like these had once been the closest thing the assassin had ever known to a 'lake' for their early years. The dark waters it constantly held worked as a quenching basin for more than just the vermin of the rubble. The collected liquid lapped at the crumbling steps against one wall that went down to the deepest part of the stone well. And perpendicular to it, a series of exits with so much collapsed rubble to every opening it was difficult to tell which were deteriorated from age, and which had been forced. But the runes of old lettering and strange marks gave up some form of significance.

In a higher gutter is where Talon squatted now, gathering the scraps of information they had recorded when the light had been out, noting the higher ones which were bricked up to a certain point, or lead to impossible drops. The dim light of the moon was bright for eyes that had relied on fire light for hours, already. So it had been too easy to be alerted to the figures who gathered below them, now. Hugging their back to the lichen-filled stones, amber eyes watched them curiously. And worriedly when they had been still for such a long time. The orange light is almost alarming in its appearance, and until the cloaked figures had begun to move along their designated path, the assassin worried if they had been spotted. Their relief was paused when they spotted the red strands.

Fingers dug into the moss underhand as denial tried to reason it was the influence of the warm light. But once the final cloak had passed through the channel and the creak of metal signalled its closing, Talon had already decided they were going to follow. They quietly drop to the mouldy cobble soon after, slinking over to the side of the entrance as their fabric-covered face leaned on the grating and waited to no longer hear footsteps or splashes. A paranoid glance is turned to the overcast sky above before they too gently pushed the barred gate open. A knife in one hand was readied instead of their lantern, the other had gloved fingers skim over the walls as they kept close, unsure footing pulling them forward.

#‡ ic #‡ ask #vixtionary #uh i mean oooh who sent thiiis o7 Γo #:) cmon kids its catatomb fun time #Secrets best kept deep within

[blxckdragonfly]

About My Blog!

“She wore the night, gentlefriends. And all the night came with her.” 

- Jay Kristoff, Darkdawn. 

Greetings! My name is Tiger or BlxckDragonfly and welcome to my blog, those who have followed me for a while or have just followed because we have something in common. 

Here's a little bit about my blog and myself in general:

🔎 True Crime

👻 Paranormal

🎮 Gaming (Skyrim. Tomb Raider. Assassin's Creed. Spyro. Resident Evil. Fallout. Far Cry. The Witcher. Silent Hill. Mortal Kombat. Halo. Etc)

📖 Reading (Nevernight/Empire of The Vampire. Gideon The Ninth. Serpent and Dove. Six of Crows/King of Scars. Vicious by VE Schwab, Mercy Thompson. Stalking Jack The Ripper. Hollow Kingdom. The Shadow of The Gods. The Song of Achilles. The Covenant of Steel. Etc)

📺 TV Shows (Supernatural. Vikings. The Walking Dead. Doctor Who. Sherlock. Dexter. Sons of Anarchy. Mr. Robot. American Horror Story. Friends. Buffy The Vampire Slayer. The Vampire Diaries. Ghost Adventures. Red Vs Blue, RuPaul's Drag Race. House of The Dragon, Wednesday. Killing Eve. Etc)

🎥 Movies (The Crow. V for Vendetta. The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. Bohemian Rhapsody. The Dark Knight. The Power of The Dog. Black Swan. Doctor Strange In The Multiverse of Madness. Spirit: Stallion of The Cimarron. The Twilight Saga. Harry Potter/Fantastic Beasts. Underworld. Resident Evil. Marvel: Avengers. Venom. Deadpool. Guardians of The Galaxy. Black Widow. Spider-Man. Etc. DC: Birds of Prey. Joker. The Batman. Etc. Disney: The Lion King. The Jungle Book. The Nightmare Before Christmas. Etc)

Anime (Black Butler. Tokyo Ghoul. Death Note. Attack on Titan. Soul Eater. Demon Slayer. The Promised Neverland. Yu-Gi-Oh. Pokemon. Dragon Ball Z. Spy x Family. Twin Star Exorcists. Chainsaw Man. Naruto: Kakashi. Rock Lee. Gaara. Orochimaru. Neji Hyuga, Itachi & Madara Uchiha.)

🎃 Halloween all year round

🩸🔪 Horror Movies & Manga (Friday The 13th. Nightmare on Elm Street. The Ring. Halloween. Saw. Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Scream. The Conjuring. Hereditary. Midsommar. Candyman. Hellraiser. Barbarian. Junji Ito: Tomie. Uzumaki. Gyo. Shiver. Lovesickness. Smashed. Sensor. Deserter. Fragments of Horror. Black Paradox. Tombs. The Liminal Zone. Kazuo Umezu. Naoki Urasawa. Shuzo Oshimi. Etc.)

🎶 Music (Black Veil Brides (Andy Black). System of A Down. Slipknot. Arch Enemy. Cradle of Filth. Ghost. Motionless In White. Ice Nine Kills. HIM (Ville Valo). The 69 Eyes. Evanescence. MCR. Within Temptation. Nightwish. Epica. Delain. Amaranthe. Lana Del Rey. Ellie Goulding. Halsey. Lady Gaga. Megan Thee Stallion. Demi Lovato. Taylor Swift. Panic! At The Disco. Olivia Rodrigo. Ariana Grande. Adele. Billie Eilish. Post Malone. Diamante. Dorothy. Mothica. Florence + The Machine. Okkultist. Spiritbox. Alpha Wolf. Architects. Wage War. Northlane. Lorna Shore. Sleep Token. Swallow The Sun. Twin Temple. The Haxans. Princess Goes To The Butterfly Museum. Corpse. Melanie Martinez)

Pro Wrestling (Malakai Black- who I met on 8.29.21 and is a total sweetheart. Brody King. Buddy Matthews. Julia Hart. Zelina Vega. Rhea Ripley. Becky Lynch. Roman Reigns. Finn Balor. Jon Moxley. Britt Baker. The Bunny. Bianca Belair. Ruby Soho. Darby Allin. Jay White. The Elite. Hangman Adam Page.)

YouTubers: Markiplier. Jacksepticeye. Crankgameplays. Shane Dawson and so forth. And the occasional Unus Annus reblog (RIP).

Musicals/Broadway: Sweeney Todd. The Little Shop of Horrors. The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Wicked

I also have a tendency to write pieces from my own stories here (Darkness Finds You-- MB & Lyra/Chris & Lycia, Medicine Man/Shadows Rise aka Katstrange) and I also reblog stuff that interests me:

🖌️ Art- Dark. Gothic. Occult. Horror. Fantasy. Halloween. Skulls. etc

History. Mythology. Urban Legends. Space. Etc

Animals: 🐅🐆🦁🐊🐍🦇🐦🐎 🦊

I hope you enjoy the stay here and it’s a delight to meet you.  And remember: 

... I’ll always love you in every universe and the house always wins. 😉🖤

x BlxckDragonfly 

HMU on Socials 👇

https://twitter.com/blxckdragonfly

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#pro wrestling #house of black #malakai black #zelina vega #becky lynch #benedict cumberbatch #bookish #writing #gaming #dark art #halloween #horror #paranormal #true crime #feel free to follow #doctor strange #tv shows #movies #music #anime #history #occult #goth #metalhead #motionless in white #ice nine kills

[theincoherentinspector]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 | 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐛 𝐟𝐫𝐲𝐞 𝐱 𝐨𝐜.

  Summary: Her love smelled like turmeric and tasted like cardamom - and even within the dark smog of  the London sky, the kohl of her wide eyes dazed Jacob like none other.

Author's Note: Jacob Frye pining over a desi oc? inject it. Also for my fellow brown people out there, the fic is loosely based on the punjabi folk song, 'charkha'.  ao3 link because tumblr might format this weirdly

tags: 1.8k words: yearning, slight angst, angst with a happy ending. 

𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐛 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧.

Dismissing any semblance of “assassin dogma” for his own personal tactics – a personal ideal, which has never pleased his idealistic sister.

Hide in plain sight?

Pfft. Even during a stealth mission, Jacob thought running out guns blazing was much more time efficient. Scary, but efficient. Fear takes hold of him only for a moment until adrenaline kicks in – forcing frozen joints to move, and rusty pistols to shoot.

Stealth was silent, and silence was indecisive. Silence came from fear, and Jacob Frye would never feel fear…

… well, that is until he sees her.

She doesn’t look much out of place to any other Londoner bustling down the worn streets of Southwark. And yet… she is different. Different in her hair, and skin, and face. Different in the colourful bangles which adorned her wrists, and the deep black kohl which lined her eyes.

He wants to barge down the street towards her. Maybe tip his hat and give a small wink and do all the things he’s sure a respectable gentleman would do – just do all the things he has done to potential lovers before.

But his feet don’t move – won’t move.

He stays firmly planted, leaning against the corner pub; half-drunk off last night’s pint, half sober off the rancid London air. Standing completely still as the entirety of Southwark walks past him… as she walks past him, paying him no mind.

To her, he is hidden, and silent – unknown.

Jacob, in that moment, is the ideal assassin - he thinks, he doesn’t like to be.

______________________________________________________________

𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐛 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐤𝐨𝐡𝐥, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐯𝐚𝐬.

He wasn’t expecting to be in Southwark so late into the night, but one thing led to the next, and now here he was; scrubbing Blighter-red blood off his worn gauntlet and picking at the gaping wound near his ribs.

His head hurt, while his feet tripped over themselves in rushed adrenaline.

He winces and looks around the near-deserted street which he stumbled through, trying to find an open shop or familiar face.

And instead, he finds her.

He sees her standing idly behind a food-cart, peering into a large frying vat – the flickering yellow-light from the lamppost above, barely illuminating the young lady.

The smell of piss and soot was one which Jacob was accustomed to in Southwark, and yet as he made his way to her, he began to smell mint and turmeric and oily, fatty deliciousness.

He stays out of the lamppost’s light, not wanting to show his face – not wishing to show the blood.

She smiles at him, and Jacob swears she glows in the flickering light.

“How many fish pakoras would you like?”

Her voice has a rasp and a slight accent which seemed similar to that of Henry Green’s.

“Pakora?” he asks, slightly panicked. “What’s that?”

She cocks her head ever-so slightly, and he isn’t sure if she was frustrated or bemused. “It’s fried fish pieces, with spices. It’s served enthusiastically in India.”

“Well then, serve away!” He blurts, a bit louder then intended to, “I’ll take a dozen!”

She smiles quietly, and for a moment only the soft clinking of her bangles echoes between them, as she picks out a dozen fried pieces of fish from the large frying vat.

Carefully placing them on a piece of newspaper, she smothers them in a layer of mint chutney. The steam rises from the food, wafting into his face, and leaving him near-drooling.

She totals him to 10 pence, and he pays happily; dumping a warm lump of coins in her hand.

“Have a good evening!” she beams, as he walks off with his street-food.

Jacob can only manage a small wave, as his breathe hitches.

And as he staggers through Southwark, he feels his chest crease and breath hitch for air.

Suddenly, even the dark London smog smelled as sweet as her kohl.

______________________________________________________________

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞.

Simmi.

She says it with a giggle and an extra dollop of mint chutney, one chilly February morning. He responds with a toothy smile, and an extra penny for her troubles.

But Simmi doesn’t take it – she never takes it.

Softly placing the extra coin back into his calloused palms, she offers him a warm smile instead. “Just tell your green-jacketed mates to buy from my stall!” she’ll simply respond, dark eyes beaming. “Give it to someone who needs it.”

“But you need it”, he wants to say, “Please, just take it. Please...”

But Assassins don’t plead – and so neither does he. Instead, he simply closes his hand, and puts the coin back in his pockets.

Sometimes he’ll let the coins jingle in his trouser pocket, other times he flicks them in the air – tossing them to back-alley orphans and sharing a fish pakora or two for good measure.

The Southwark smog smelling sweeter than it ever had before.

______________________________________________________________

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐛 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞.

Simmi.

 He’ll be sat on a rooftop or ledge, lounging above London, as he stretches and rolls the different syllables in his mouth - in attempt to sound out every possible phonetic iteration that the letters could produce.

Even then, her name rolled sweetly in his mouth. It tasted like chutney and her tandoor, and every spice he had yet to give a name to.

Sometimes he’ll doze off to these silent hums.

And even when his sister finally jolts him awake with a kick to the ribs, and a scathing scolding for falling asleep again on a mission…  his smile does not falter, nor does her name become any less beautiful.

______________________________________________________________

It doesn’t take long for Jacob to convince his associates to bring her little food-stall some traffic.

Reminding the likes of Evie, Henry, Ned… even Abberline! He advertises her fish pakoras like a puppet on strings.

And she, his puppeteer.

______________________________________________________________

𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐉𝐮𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲.

His Rooks are gathered around his stall, all enjoying their own pakoras and chutney, and for a fleeting moment a strange courage takes him and wishes to talk about more than idle recipes and neighbourhood politics.

“You’re really… nice, Simmi!” Jacob says, in between bites, mouth full of green chutney and fresh fried cod. The words come out awkward, and stumbled – but they manage to pry out of his throat nonetheless.

Simmi merely raises a brow, dark eyes losing their glint. “We don’t even know each other… not really, anyway.”

Her answer is one which he doesn’t expect – maybe because he was expecting to be swept up into a kiss, while saffron and rose petals fell down on them.

You know, only realistic things.

Jacob shifts from side to side, unsure how to respond, especially with his Rooks nearby.

“I know you make good fish pakoras, and you’re good to kids, and you just… give… and give happily.” He wants to say… but he doesn’t.

Because Assassins are silent and deadly, and don’t let silly food vendors turn them to puppets on a string.

He decides to simply concentrate on chewing his fish, and instead Jacob laughs, a hearty, carefree laugh – something that was “classic” Jacob. “Well, hopefully you don’t think I’m too bad?”

Simmi cocks her head, the same way she had done countless times before. There is fear (or was it disappointment?) in her eyes, as they glance momentarily to the pistol strapped around his belt.

“You’re as good as a ruffian can get.” She murmurs, smiling weakly.

Silence lulls between them, and though he can hear the chatter of his Rooks nearby, he feels a strange wave of loneliness.

A ruffian. A criminal. An… Assassin.

He chews harder.

______________________________________________________________

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐛 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐤𝐨𝐡𝐥-𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐬.

Just as he rounds the street to her alleyway, yearning grows on his tongue for the strong flavours of turmeric, cumin, and mint.

The night had painted the sky dark with ash, barely illuminating the city-streets. Though it would’ve proven to be much safer to trek this journey on top of buildings, he could not risk breaking the delicate object in his hands.

He finds a row of shabby brick houses and knocks on the one with mustard oil stains by its door.

He waits patiently, quietly counting in his head.

The door is opened by a small elderly lady. She wore a beautiful orange garment in a manner unbeknownst to Jacob. Golden bangles made her wrinkled wrists their home, while a single red dot rested on her forehead.

She looks confused at Jacob’s presence and yelled out behind her.

“Simi!”

The elderly woman barks in a language that Jacob could not understand, but the name – Simi – was the only thing he could.

She yells a bit more until disappearing back into the small house.

He waits for a moment, debating if he should’ve just left already – wondering how far away the nearest pub would be, and how long it would take him to get miserably drunk.

And yet, just when he figures to leave, she shows at the door.

Simi the Food Vendor. And yet… this Simi was different.

A worn-out dress was now replaced by a beautiful yellow garment, embroidered with delicate black design. Large yellow bangles replaced her dainty multi-colored ones, while large white earrings hung from her ears.

Everything was different… everything except for her dark eyes – which still adorned the black kohl.

In the face of her, Jacob felt his button-up to be plain – in the face of her, everything felt plain.

“I didn’t think you’d actually remember!” she exclaims, “I must’ve told you, what… months ago?”

Jacob merely nods, satisfied with himself. “I don’t forget easily.”

He then opens the palm of his hands, to reveal the object which was sheltered beneath them – a clay oil candle. It’s cotton wick stood strong, though it was empty – still needing to be filled with oil.

“Happy Diwali, Simmi.”

He holds it out for her to take, and she does gently. Carefully resting it in her hands, as if it would break with the slightest touch.

Her eyes travel from the oil lamp to his waist, presumably looking for the typical gun holster, but only finding a simple belt. She smiles softly. “Y’know, I didn’t think that you’d know anything about Diwali, Mr. Ruffian?”

Jacob grins from ear to ear, “I feel offended. How will you ever make it up to me?”

Simi cocks her head, the very same way she had done all those times before. And then carefully, with one hand, pulls the young assassin’s shirt collar towards her – closing the space with her lips.

She tastes like cardamom, and turmeric and morning tea and every sweet toffee Jacob had yet to discover.

She smiles into the kiss.

Jacob thinks he might not taste too bad either.

#ac syndicate #jacob frye #jacob frye x oc #assassins creed #evie frye

[diphthongsfordays]

Word Find Game

Tagged probably over a month ago by the lovely @sleepyowlwrites. Thanks, Sleepy! Even if it is taking me forever to actually respond!

Useful (Deathdancer - Zaul POV)

If Zaul could remember anything useful, he would tell her. But he couldn’t. Hey, you’re going to die in about an hour was not terribly informative.

Hopeful (Deathdancer - Ailin POV)

Footsteps clattered as Zaul and Dymas pelted down the stairs. Ailin pivoted on her toes, knives up, keeping Orvon away from the door. “They can go,” he growled, his Latoryi accent stronger than ever. “There is no hiding from me.” Ailin didn’t answer him, heart racing. Hopefully he attributed it to her reputation as a silent fighter, and not that her voice currently wasn’t working. He’s right.

Dreadful (Deathdancer - Ailin POV)

Night fell fast. Normally Ailin would welcome the shadows, but on nights when she had a job to do, she dreaded the coming darkness. She left the rooftops as the sun set, bathing the sandstone and adobe in red-gold light. In the distance, heat waves rose off the open sand of the desert of Ma-Havand, familiar mirages glinting in the sunset.

Colorful (Deathdancer - Zaul POV)

Ailin didn’t follow. Her chest spasmed once, twice. It went still. It took Zaul longer to find the gaping hole in her throat than it did for Ailin to die. The assassin was moving again, charging at Dymas. Zaul stumbled aside, a terrible howl pressing into his mind. Dymas was pleading, but Zaul tuned him out. He had seconds to change the world. Zaul closed his eyes, reaching into the brush of time rustling in the peripheries of reality. The void looked up, and Zaul dived into it, surrendering to the swirl of colorful stars.

BONUS

Deep (Deathdancer - Ailin POV)

Her vision flattened dangerously, like pressing water between two panes of glass. The buzzing in her ears exploded, then went terrifyingly silent. The bowl slipped. She made a useless attempt to stop it, but Zaul’s hand appeared under hers, catching it easily, clearly ready. “Breath in,” he said quietly, handing passing the bowl back to Bala. “Breath out.” The breath was shaky, and far too fast, but she managed it. Barely. Zaul held out a hand, and she snatched it, struggling not to crush his knuckles. He dug his fingertips into the back of her hand, deep and steady, pressing right up to the point of pain.

Daze (Deathdancer - Zaul POV)

Zaul had never been to an illegal fight, but he’d heard the rumors. No rules, no surrender. People died in those fights. He’d been in a few scrapes, and he had run away from all of them. The only fights he’d ever won were when his teachers had let him. Zaul stared at the candle, the little flame shuddering in the dark. He blinked at it, dazed. Maybe he was wrong. Hopefully he was wrong. If not, he was in very big trouble.

I tag (no pressure!!): @avrablake, @winterandwords, @the-orangeauthor, @akindofmagictoo, @thegreatobsesso and open tag for anyone who wants it!!

EDIT: I FORGOT TO GIVE YOU WORDS! I'll give the same words I had: Useful, Hopeful, Dreadful, Colorful (Deep, Daze)

#deathdancer #tag games #word find game #writeblr

[385bookreviews]

1.72.1 The Assassin's Blade by Sarah J Maas

SPOILERS (for The Assassin's Blade and also some minor plot spoilers for the rest of the series)

Pages Total: 435 The Assassin and the Pirate Lord: 75 The Assassin and the Healer: 37 The Assassin and the Desert: 106 The Assassin and the Underworld: 104 The Assassin and the Empire: 98

Time Read: 7 hours and 5 minutes

Overall Rating: ★★★★☆ Storyline: ★★★★★ Dialogue: ★★★★☆ Characters: ★★★★☆

Genre: YA Fantasy

TWs for the book: Death, violence, murder, torture, blood, slavery, physical abuse, grief, gore, injury, emotional abuse, vomit, confinement, gaslighting, body horror, kidnapping, toxic relationship, child abuse, trafficking, domestic abuse, fire, toxic friendship, stalking, discussion of death of a parent, war, alcohol, s*xual harassment, adult/minor relationship, sexism/misogyny, s*xual content, cursing, colonization, abandonment, classism, alcoholism, discussions or r*pe, prostitution

POV: Third person

Time Period/Location: The Capital of Adarlan, Rifthold; The Red Desert, Innish, Skull's Bay, Xandria, Endovier. This book contains five novellas set over a year before Throne of Glass takes place.

First Line: Seated in the council room of the Assassins' Keep, Celaena Sardothien leaned back in her chair.

The book starts out with The Assassin and the Pirate Lord. Celaena Sardothien and her rival, Sam Cortland, are sent to see Rolfe, the Pirate Lord of Skull's Bay. Arobynn Hamel, their master and the King of the Assassin's tells them that he wants them to demand payment for Rolfe killing some of his assassin's. When they arrive, however, they discover they are meant to be brokering a slave trade between Rolfe and Arobynn. Celaena and Sam are both appalled and set aside their rivalry in order to take down Rolfe and free 200 slaves. They succeed, and Celaena forces Rolfe to sign a document saying that he will never again participate in the slave trade, or she will hunt him down and kill him.

In the next story, The Assassin and the Healer, Celaena is in the town of Innish, on her way to the Red Desert to train with the Silent Assassins as punishment from Arobynn for having destroyed his deal with Rolfe. He beat her unconscious and then sent her on her way giving her two months to travel to and fro, and a month to be with the Silent Assassins. In Innish, she comes across a girl named Yrene, a former healer who lost her magic and her mother to Adarlan's empire. She had been working at the White Pig Inn for a year, hoping to save up enough money to travel to the southern continent and learn to become a healer at the Torre Cesme. While taking out the trash that night, Yrene is mugged by mercenaries, but Celaena fortunately comes to her rescue and kills the men. After Yrene wraps Celaena's wounds, Celaena teaches her how to defend herself. Just when they're about to be done, more mercenaries attack, and Celaena, with the help of Yrene, are able to fend them off. Celaena leaves Yrene a considerable sum of money and a large ruby to pay for her passage to the southern continent. Yrene leaves for the Torre Cesme immediately, and Celaena leaves for the Red Desert.

The Assassin and the Desert begins with Celaena trudging through the desert to reach the keep of the Silent Assassins. When she arrives, she is tested by the Mute Master by having four of his men attack her, all of which she easily fends off. He then passes her off to Ansel, a swaggering red head in full armor, and they share a room. Celaena is eager to begin training with the Mute Master, since Arobynn will not let her back until she returns with a sealed letter of approval. But she is told she must wait and spends her days running through the desert to the oasis and training with Ansel. The Silent Assassins are regularly antagonized by Lord Berick, the leader of Xandria, the port city to the south. Ansel is sent to Xandria to try and treaty with him after an attack, and Celaena goes with her. The girls become fast friends, especially after Ansel shares the true story of how she was a lady at Briarcliff, in the Flatlands of the abandoned Witch Kingdom, and a greedy lord killed her father and sister and burned her home to the ground. After the meeting with Lord Berick, Ansel and Celaena steal two of his Asterion horses, incredibly fast horses that were bred by the Fae. When they return, the Mute Master makes them take care of the animals every morning as punishment, but he does finally agree to train Celaena. He makes her study snakes, rabbits, bats, and other desert creatures to learn their movements so she can become a better fighter. Five days before Celaena is supposed to leave she and Ansel fight. As an apology, Ansel brings her some wine, but it was poisoned. She wakes up in the middle of the desert with her Asterion horse, a sealed letter of approval from the Mute Master, and a note from Ansel saying that she is doing this to protect her. Celaena begins to head towards Xandria to catch a ship, but sees Lord Berick's forces, marching towards the Keep. She races back, but they are already under attack. She runs to the Mute Master, and finds Ansel's lover dead, the Mute Master's son Ilias wounded, and the Mute Master paralyzed. Ansel stands over him about to behead him, but Celaena attacks. They fight, and Ansel reveals she killed her own lover, and made a deal with Lord Berick: the Mute Master's head and the assassins dead, and he will give her forces to go and reclaim Briarcliff. Celaena defeats her, and even though she is hurt by her betrayal, she gives her 20 minutes to get out of the Keep before she shoots her with an arrow. Celaena ends up giving her 21 minutes and purposefully misses, even though Ansel wasn't out of range. The Mute Master gives Celaena her sealed letter of approval, and also enough gold to free herself of her debt to Arobynn Hamel.

Celaena arrives back in Rifthold in The Assassin and the Underworld, planning to free herself from Arobynn once and for all and move into her own apartment. However, she returns to find Arobynn deeply remorseful of his actions, and he showers her with gifts and assigns her an assassination of an important Melisande man named Doneval. He tells her that Doneval is planning on exposing everyone in the nobility that doesn't support the slave trade, safe houses, and rebels. She says she'll think about it, and runs into Sam. She is relieved to see him in one piece, and begins to have a lot of feelings about him come forward as she remembers he promised to kill Arobynn while he was beating her. Just then, Lysandra, one of the courtesans owned by Arobynn's friend Clarisse, appears and begins flirting with Sam. Celaena agrees to kill Doneval, and attends the theatre, a ball held by his ex wife (the person who hired Celaena to kill him), and spies outside of his house in preparation. She attempts to break into his house to scope out where he will be meeting his contact and exchanging paperwork the day she is going to kill him, but is caught by his guards and tied to a chair in the sewers right before they're flooded. She manages to escape the chair, but almost drowns. Sam rescues her, and the next day he professes his love for her. They manage to assassinate Doneval, but Sam blows up his house and the documents Celaena was supposed to retrieve were lost. She chases after Doneval's contact, but he kills himself and sets the papers on fire before Celaena can retrieve them or interrogate him. From the remains of the papers, Celaena begins to piece together that she might have been lied to. She goes before Arobynn, who is angry at her for not retrieving the documents. He then reveals that Doneval's ex wife actually deals in the slave trade and wanted to be rich, and that is why she wanted her husband assassinated, as he was a rebel and planning on freeing the slaves. Arobynn tells her this was punishment for Skull's Bay, and Celaena pays her debt and Sam's with the gold she was given by the Mute Master and leaves.

In the final novella, The Assassin and the Empire, Sam and Celaena are living in their own apartment across the city. Sam is cage fighting in an underground tavern called the Vaults in order to make ends meet, and they can't find anyone to hire them. Sam and Celaena agree to move away from Rifthold, and they pay Arobynn the parting cost for breaking away from the Assassin's Guild, which takes away all of Celaena's savings. They agree to find one more contract before they go. Sam takes a contract from a mysterious man who wants Ioan Jayne and Roarke Farran, the leader and second of the criminal underworld of Rifthold, dead. Arobynn warns them against this, but Sam insists he takes out Farran on his own and then letting Celaena kill Jayne. Sam goes to kill Farran, and after hours of waiting, Arobynn arrives to tell Celaena that he is dead, his body tortured and ripped apart and left on the door step of the Assassin's Keep. Celaena goes to see his body and falls asleep next to it, and wakes up in her old room. She hears Arobynn and the other assassins conversing outside her door about going to kill Jayne and Farran, and then Arobynn locks her door. She escapes out the window, and breaks into Jayne's house, managing to kill him and several guards before they release poisonous gas. Farran hands her over to the Royal Guard, and she is sentenced to 9 lifetimes in Endovier. In the end, it is revealed that Arobynn was the one who betrayed them.

Celaena Sardothien (Dianna Brackyn, Adarlan's Assassin): Celaena definitely doesn't start off as the most likeable protagonist, both in this book as well as in Throne of Glass. She can be quite childish and selfish, and is easily manipulated. You see her start to grow through the book, however, and I think her character development is shown a lot better in this book than in Throne of Glass.

Sam Cortland: Sam and Celaena's romance felt like it came out of nowhere for me, since it was established multiple times how much they previously hated each other.

Arobynn Hamel (The King of the Assassins): Arobynn is definitely an awesome antagonist. You can get really confused and feel for him, as he seems genuine in his emotions, but deep down he is selfish and it always hurts just as bad every time his true colors and intentions show.

Storyline: All of the novellas are well written, cohesive, and don't drag on for too long, while still not feeling rushed. As you get later into the series you realize that SJM brings back a lot of these characters and connects them to the larger plot (Yrene, Ansel, and Rolfe to name a few). While I did feel like Sam and Celaena's relationship was a little forced, it didn't overtake the plot in any way, and it helped Celaena's character growth.

Representation: There is not a lot of good representation in this book unfortunately, Yrene being the only person of color I can think of.

Summary: While Throne of Glass is a little bit of a rocky start, I think The Assassin's Blade comes in to perfectly tie everything together and give a lot of insight on Celaena's past.

#book review #book blog #books #book reviews #fantasy #sarah j maas #sjm #the assassin's blade #throne of glass #crown of midnight #heir of fire #queen of shadows #empire of storms #tower of dawn #kingdom of ash #celaena sardothien #sam cortland

[teenageread]

Review: Assassin's Blade

Synopsis:

Contains all five novellas.

Celaena Sardothien is Adarlan's most feared assassin. As part of the Assassin's Guild, her allegiance is to her master, Arobynn Hamel, yet Celaena listens to no one and trusts only her fellow killer-for-hire, Sam. In these action-packed novellas - together in one edition for the first time - Celaena embarks on five daring missions. They take her from remote islands to hostile deserts, where she fights to liberate slaves and seeks to avenge the tyrannous. But she is acting against Arobynn's orders and could suffer an unimaginable punishment for such treachery. Will Celaena ever be truly free? Explore the dark underworld of this kick-ass heroine to find out.

Plot:

The Assassin and the Pirate Lord

16-year-old Celaena is Adarlan’s Assassin, and the one Arobynn chose to be the heir of the Assassin's Guild. Therefore, there was no way she was going to say no when instructed with this important task, even though Arobynn chose her partner to be her constant competition, aka the number two to her number one: Sam Cortland. Together they were to travel to Skull’s Bay and make the deal, as planned, with Captain Rolfe. Only once they got there, Celaena had different plans and had to rely on Sam for help. 

The Assassin and the Healer

On her way to the Red Desert to train with the Silent Assassins, Celaena cannot help but get into a fight and save a Healer whose life was not going as planned. 

The Assassin and the Desert

At the Red Desert, Celena has a month to gain the Mute Master respect, his training, and a letter of approval for her to give to Arobynn. But gaining the Mute Master permission for training was not as easy as Celena thought. Becoming friends with her roommate Ansel, Cleena begins to see the Silent Assassins, where killers just like her, relied on each other for help and guidance, and not like Arobynn who constantly pinned them against each other. 

The Assassin and the Underworld

Returning home with her letter of approval, Arobynn tries to buy back her love with presents, jewelry, and a mission that was suited just for her. With Sam being very friendly with Lysandra, Celena cannot help but return her old feelings of rivalry with Sam. But needing his help on this mission, Sam and Celena work as a team in order to complete Celena’s “gift” of a mission. 

The Assassin and the Empire 

Sam and Celaena were free. They had their own house, and where they were a part of the Guild, Arobynn was not giving them any missions to work with. Needing a clean break, Celaena approached Arobynn for his blessing to let them leave the Guild, where Sam got them a one-way ticket out of Adarlan. With a final mission that could lead them a life outside of crime out of Adarlan, the clock is ticking down on the mission, and on the time Sam and Celaena have left together. 

Thoughts: 

If you wanted more Celena, then Sarah Maas brought it to you with these five novellas. These stories tell the events leading up to the first novel “Throne of Glass”that tells us about Celena’s adventures, and how she meets the people that are brought to life in the fifth book “Empire of Storm”. This is where I suggest reading these novellas, after five and before six, as five gives you an introduction to the, hinting about the past Celena has with them, that you can explore before going deeper into their story. Maas' writing was short and sweet, really getting to the heart of these novellas within a short time frame and had them line up so they flowed into one big story well. The only part that sort of ruined the series for me was the realistic short timing of Sam and Celena’s relationship. Starting from The Throne of Glass, Celena weaves the story that Sam was the love of her life, and his death destroyed her, but in these five novellas, well actually only three, you got to see their entire relationship. Making their great love, that from the regular series seems like a long-term commitment, to only a month-long at best. And before that, they hated each other, so emotions really took a turn from enemies to lovers within that Skull’s Bay trip. Or maybe that is just how real love works, and it is more of a shame that their relationship ended so soon. Are they necessary to read for the series? No, after all these novellas take place before her time in Endovier, so their content only matters in learning the truth behind her and Sam’s relationship, how she met the people in the five novels (who I am assuming are going to make an appearance in the sixth and final novel), and give you background story. Overall, these novellas helped expand the universe, you get to learn in present tense Celena’s time within the Assassin Guild, when she was still its prime member, and get more Celena action that helps you learn about her past which affects her choices throughout the series.

Read more reviews: Goodreads

Buy the book: Amazon

#The Assassin's Blade #Throne of Glass #Sarah J Maas #book review

[valerielillis]

January 2024 Microfictions

Image by Darkmoon_Art of Pixelbay

Stories by Valerie Lillis

1. Cool Winds Come

The wind stirred her raised fur, a refreshing change from the scalding, still air of days before. Rough bark serves tiny paws, letting her climb higher and higher. A sturdy branch, well above rooftops and phone lines serves her well.

She settles there, her ears raised for a falcon's cry. Soon the cold days will come. Food would need gathering and the nest added to. But for now, she relaxed, feasting on the bittersweetness of the last summer berries.

 2. Hunger

Whistles and tweets herald the morning.

Grass and leaves rustle in the breeze

Setting a heavy feeder to swing.

Scarlet nectar lures close hungry wings.

Just a sip or two, lingering cannot be risked.

Shivering leaves sound - too loud for a breeze.

A hidden tabby prepares to lunge,

But she's a second too early and a second too late to close.

Two stomachs rumble as wings tightly dodge.

Outstretched claws land empty on soft soil.

3. Rainfall

Spring rain drizzles down against the panes of a bedroom window. Steam rises from a warm cup: citrus and spices coat the tongue and warm the throat. With a long, steady exhale, tension melts away leaving behind a gentle peace of mind.

 4. Peony

Dark foliage, sharp and vibrant, grows from sturdy stocks. Seasons change and blooms appear in bashful reds, dainty pinks, and ghostly whites. Each color unfurling like the ruffles of a petticoat. With the season they fade, dropping their treasures to the soil to rise and perform their dance once more.

5. Remembering

Brief and fleeting, the memory comes in the night. Long summer days, a wide open feild, and a familiar shadow behind. Faster you peddle, finding bliss in the streaming wind. The bliss lasted for but a second, before the tumble down. But that second you carry on, letting it linger on the darkest nights.

6. Dream Big and Small

Quarters and crumpled bills lightly decorate the bottom of an old pickle jar. A getaway, a road trip, or even a new book seemed so far away. I felt the dollar in my pocket, Mother's whisper in my ear:

"Just save what you can, Annie, even just a penny a day."

"A penny a day won't even buy a book in my lifetime," I was so bitter back then. Now I can't remember why.

"Ah," She said in that gentle way, "but a penny a day can by can by a bit of candy when the week isn't going your way, or a gallon of gas when there's just a bit farther to go. Remember those big big dreams to hold your chip up, but don't ignore the little things that help you move forward."

7. Love Lost by the Sea

One morning Edgar walked the sandy beaches, a glass bottle green with algae was pushed by the waves to his feet. The wax seal was faded, but there wasn't a crack or opening in sight. The paper inside crinkled and tore as he retrieved it.

A crude drawing, of a sailor securing ropes was framed in delicate lettering. "Ale in the hull, I'll be there when all's asleep. Raise your sails, lower your anchor, and rest your ship in my bossum tonight."

8. A Dragon's Poverty

A knight once went to a Dragon in search of what all knight's desired. The dragon, while sitting atop his treasure, told the knight quite dully that coins and gems bring as much fame and fortune as a desert brings rain.

"Of course they bring fame and fortune," the knight cried. "Lands, servants, and castles I could buy with a fraction of your wealth."

"Lands, servants, and castles I could buy - it's true," The dragon admitted. "However, it also buys assassins, theives, and wayward knights free of charge. 'Tis better to live modest, enjoy the fortune you have, especially if it involves the most valuable thing of all."

"And what might that be," asked the knight, now curious.

"A sturdy door of course, with a lock and key!"

 9. Chester Castle

Chester Castle sat atop an old hill. Its towers cast long shadows over the silent farms and villages below. Its chilled walls, once proud, now stood in silent shock. Ghosts, unable to believe the present, still marched and slept with the past. They had been ready for everything - except for poison in the wells.

 10. Just a Few More Minutes

Annabelle thought she was ready - until Momma started crying. Then she was crying too, holding Momma's fingers as tight as her little hands could.

"Don't cry, Momma," Annabelle pleaded. "It's okay."

Momma's arms wrapped around her, dodging the tubes and wires with practiced ease. There wasn't a response, Momma was like her in that way: there wasn't any use talking when you couldn't stop crying. Annabelle didn't mind, she held Momma close, smoothing her hair the way Momma used to do for her.

She sent an apologetic smile to the woman at the foot of her bed. The woman smiled back, closing her pearl grey wings as if prepared to wait. She only needed a few more minutes, she only had as much to hold. Then she could go, even though she didn't really want to.

Short Stories

 Sneaky Angel

Azael sat atop the ridge, looking down at the smoking remains below. Why would humans do so much damage to their own homes? They should have been ready, many of them were ready when the signs came. Perhaps those left were too upset by not being chosen, by not being taken to the next world.

When the gates had fallen, he had been glad to escape. The world forbidden to him and his kind had been opened, they could experience what had been denied. Now he questioned if the only good thing that was denied had been the way the sun feels on his leather wings.

A flutter of feathers filled the air, a face of flame and a body swaddled in robes sat down beside him. Instinctively, Azael recoiled, inches away even though the war had long since ended. The figure produced no flaming sword, nor holy chains to bind him, instead an apple appeared in its hands, prompting a devilish grumble from Azael's stomach.

"Don't taunt me," he growled at the figure.

"I won't taunt you," the angel said. "I saw you hadn't eaten yet."

Azael gave the apple a distrustful eye before snatching it from the angel's hand. "If this some kind of trap, I'm going to add 'Sneaky Angels' onto my menu."

It chuckled, the flames turning a cheery orange and yellow. "I will endeavor to not be 'Sneaky' then."

Azael's hunger couldn't handle waiting anymore. The crisp sweetness warmed his tongue. When nothing but seeds were left, he licked what juice escaped from his fingers and lips. The angel stayed beside him, another apple in his hand. Azael accepted it more gently and asked the question that now burned in his mind:

"Why would you help something you hate?"

"Because it is good to help," they said simply, summoning another apple as the second disappeared, "and it's not helpful to judge."

If you want to read my stories as they come out, be sure to check out my blog!

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[lovejustforaday]

2023 Year End List - #13

Sweet Justice - Tkay Maidza

Main Genres: Pop Rap, Contemporary R&B, Electronic

A decent sampling of: Funky House, Hip House, Industrial Hip Hop, Trap

So I'm a little late to the party on this one. Forgive me. 🙏😔

Tkay Maidza is a Zimbabwean Australian hip hop artist who's had several critical successes with her three part EP series Last Year Was Weird. Mind you, I'm not Australian, so I haven't been closely following the ARIAs or anything. I know I'd seen the cover of Vol. 2 somewhere (most likely while browsing the RYM charts) and thought it looked cool, but that was all of my prior exposure to her before checking out this record.

Now that I finally have checked out her latest LP, I can definitely get behind the hype she's built up.

Maidza strikes me as kind of a jack-of-all-trades in the world of hip hop, pop, dance, and R&B. She's a well-rounded performer who's just as comfortable spitting acid over noisy, industrial broken beats as she is singing girlish hooks in plush diva registers over glossy house productions. And I for one really appreciate a pop artist that can do many things well, and regularly challenges themselves in this way.

Tkay gives us many facets of herself on Sweet Justice, an R&B/rap crossover record that acts as both a declaration of war, and a self-love letter in the wake of the trappings of success and learning to let go of everything holding her back. The artist is forging a path forward out of the decaying ruins of regrets, with incisive farewells to people and bad agents from her past, literally constructing a monument to her new self image on the cover art (which is fucking badass looking, btw).

And slick as all hell production. Seriously, this whole goddamn thing sounds like it was encased in some molten liquid onyx, or something else equally ludicrously expensive and impractical. A big part of the success of this record needs to be credited to the producers, mastering, and mixing engineers on this project; some of the cleanest R&B I have ever heard.

"Out of Luck" is a bulbous pop banger made for fluorescent paint night clubs, with gorgeous, addictive vocal harmonies in the chorus. The central rhythm is positively dripping with wet globs of luxurious funk on top of some very Y2K R&B space synth pads. Featured guests Amber Mark and Lolo Zaouï are totally killing it on their spots too. Makes me feel like one hot motherfucker, twirling my neon hair (which I do not have) and moving on with my life.

Tkay turns up the heat on the sweltering, mysterious "Love Again" wherein she laments her waning capacity to love someone. I like the really lo-fi take on that acoustic guitar sampler sound that was really prevalent in a lot of 90s R&B pop. This one lingers in my head long after its over thanks to the eerily foreboding riff - like trying to find love in a barren desert wasteland.

"Ghost" is simply the best thing on here. I knew I recognized the production from somewhere the first time I heard it, but it should've been obvious even before I went ahead and looked it up: it's mf-ing Kaytranada. This kind of air-tight, bouncy, gravity-defying funky house sound was what defined his Polaris-winning 99.9%, and honestly this might even be his most impressive beat to date. Tkay naturally nails the performance on this one too, gliding on and off of the silver clouds of the production and delivering pure ear-candy riffs and playful quips from start to finish, though "I see through you like Casper / Toxic jig's up like the rafters / Me you natural disaster" is a personal favourite.

The next best thing on the opposite end of the spectrum is the industrial hip hop of "Silent Assassin", a nasty quivering nervous tick of a beat with red hot shiny buzzer sounds. I can feel my vision going all blurry as Maidza's figuratively shoving me to the edge of a cliff on this track. This is how you make your presence known as a force not to be fucked with as the deadly underdog of the pop rap game.

One more quick observation - what's with the random ass Nova Scotia shout out on "Gone to the West"? Did they know I was going to be listening to this record? I can count on one hand the times I've heard my home province referenced in a piece of non-Canadian media, and one of those is in a frigging Fresh Prince of Bel-Air episode. Total glitch in the simulation moment for me.

Anyhow, the only moments that don't land as well on this record are the two tracks where, dare I say it, she's giving 'Doja Cat' energy ("Ring-a-Ling" and "WUACV"). Idk, this type of "nyeh nyeh lol u mad" silly pop rap has never really been my sort of thing. Most of it' i's kinda grating to my ears, and frankly not even Tkay can fully redeem this sort of song (though its still a cut above most other songs in this very tiktok-y "genre" by virtue of her raw talent).

Luckily, there's more than enough variety and superb execution of different styles that I already quite enjoy on this record. Sweet Justice is a treat to the ears that hardly ever lets up, giving you a little bit of everything with an absolutely stunning finish in the sound department. Audiophiles who love hip hop, R&B, pop, electronic, and dance music are sure to get a hell of a lot out of this very sexy-sounding record. Put some respect on the silent assassin of hip hop.

8/10

Highlights: "Ghost", "Silent Assassin", "Out of Luck", "Love Again", "Walking On Air", "Our Way"

#album review #music review #list #aoty #year end list #tkay maidza #hip hop #rap #r&b #contemporary r&b #pop rap #electronic #sweet justice #2023