#then harvest as much meat as possible to still do the following steps

[im-a-wizard-who-dont-crime]

We can synthetically create chickens that taste good. So hear me out. We kill all natural chickens (through fire). Then put the synthetic chickens in extreme torture chambers.

as

#wizard #wizardblr #wizardposting #chicken #chicken torture #torture #alternatively we kill a single chicken #then harvest as much meat as possible to still do the following steps #then resurrect it #then have it regenerate the missing meat #repeat steps 1-4 as many times as possible

[samwisethewitch]

How I Get the Most Out of Meat When Cooking

As someone who 1.) was 100% vegetarian for ethical/religious reasons until very recently, and 2.) recently had to reintroduce meat for vitamin deficiency reasons, limiting waste as much as possible when I cook with meat is really important to me. For one thing, I feel like I owe it to the animal that died to get as much use as possible out of its body as a way of honoring its death. For another, meat is expensive (ethically raised meat even more so) and I want to get my money's worth.

I recently bought a bunch of lamb for my family's holiday dinner, so I wanted to share my attempt to practice the Honorable Harvest in my meat consumption. This is new to me, but I wanted to document the attempt because it's been a fun learning process for me! If you want to actually learn about honorable consumption I encourage you to read the works of Robin Wall Kimmerer and other indigenous ecologists, since the Honorable Harvest is based on indigenous North American practices. (Though there are other cultural practices all over the world.)

Step One: Sourcing the Meat

I am very fortunate to have enough disposable income to buy ethically raised meat, which tends to be more expensive. This is a privilege. Other people are not able to spend this extra money on their meat, and that doesn't make me better than them. Feeding yourself is morally neutral, and a tight budget is not a moral failing. Most meat alternative products (Beyond Beef, Impossible, etc.) are also pretty expensive. If the factory-farmed meat at the supermarket is the only thing in your budget, use that.

If you DO have some extra funds, local farms are a great place to source meat. The reason we had lamb for the holidays is because a local farm recently culled their herd and had lamb on sale. In the past we've gotten beef from a relative who raises cattle. I encourage you to learn about farms in your area and what they have to offer. CSAs and farmers' markets are great places to start. You can also ask around at local restaurants about where they source their ingredients.

When I say "ethically raised meat," what I'm really talking about is pasture-raised animals. Cage-free animals may not live in cages, but they can still be kept in cramped, dirty, inhumane conditions and be sold as "cage free." Pasture-raised animals are able to graze and forage and generally wander around within a paddock. For some animals like chickens you can also look for "free range," which means the animals are unfenced and are able to wander freely. Since I don't cook meat often, I try to get free range or pasture-raised meat when I do buy it.

In some areas, you may also be able to find certified ethically slaughtered meat, which means the slaughtering process has been designed to cause as little suffering to the animal as possible. That kind of certification isn't really available where I live, but it might be for you!

And of course, hunting or fishing yourself is also an option. If you kill the animal yourself, you know exactly how it died and can take steps to limit suffering as much as possible. Hunting isn't a skillset I have, but if you do more power to you!

Step Two: Cooking the Meat

This is the easy part. Depending on the cut of meat you got and the dish you are cooking, you may need to remove bones or trim fat, but aside from that it's just following a recipe.

For our holiday lamb stew, I used this recipe. I have Celiac disease, so I subbed gluten-free flour and replaced the beer with red wine. I also added rosemary and garlic for a more Mediterranean flavor to compliment the wine.

Step Three: Organs and Bones

This is where the breakdown is for a lot of Americans. We don't cook with bones or organs very often, and we tend to throw away whatever parts of the animal we don't want. That is not honorable consumption. Part of the Honorable Harvest is using every part of the being that died to feed you.

Most organs make great stew meat. My favorite Nicaraguan beef stew is made with tongue, and my indigenous Hawaiian relatives make stew with pig feet. And while I don't like them, lots of my Southern family members love chitlins (pickled pig intestines). Lots of cultures eat organs, and you'll find plenty of delicious recipes if you look!

Bones are typically used to make stock, which can be used as a base for future soups and stews. There are lots of recipes for DIY stocks and broths, but I usually fry some onions and/or garlic, deglaze with wine, and then add the meat/bones and the water, plus salt, pepper, and herbs for flavor. Most animal bones can produce two batches of stock before they lose flavor. (For really flavorful stock, leave some meat on the bones.)

Once the stock is done, you'll still have bones to deal with. Contrary to popular belief, cooked bones are not safe for dogs to chew on. (But raw bones usually are!) Instead, I strip any remaining meat and gristle from the stock bones, give those scraps to my pups as a treat, and then use the stripped bones for something else. With a little extra processing, the bones can be used as a fertilizer in a garden, a calcium supplement for chickens, or a safe treat for dogs and/or cats.

This was my first time processing bones, but after boiling them for, like, 12 hours in water with salt and vinegar, they were soft enough to break apart with my hands. I'm going to grind them to make bone meal.

#long post #cooking #the honorable harvest #robin wall kimmerer #sustainable cooking #sustainable #sustainability #animism #kitchen witch #kitchen witchcraft #kitchen witchery #green witch #green witchery #solarpunk #cottagecore #food waste #mine #my writing

[the-angriestpineapple]

Bountiful Harvest (Endeavor x Fem Reader)

____

Rating: Explicit

Characters: Todoroki Enji (Endeavor)

Inspiration: My piece for the Citrus Dome Discord server’s Gods AU collaboration. Enji isn’t based on a particular god, but who better to be one than him?  Masterlist is here.

Prompt: Worship has always been a part of your daily routine. Each season you place the fruits of your labor at the altar. Every day you pray. It’s human nature, seeking answers from the Gods.

But you never expected one to answer…

Word Count: ~3k

Worship has always been a part of your daily routine. Each season you place the fruits of your labor at the altar. Every day you pray. It’s human nature, seeking answers from the Gods.

But you never expected one to answer…

The god your family prayed to was one that your father insisted was powerful. He was almighty, he was deadly for the enemies of his followers. You weren’t entirely sure if that was true. Your lives were… peaceful enough. Your crops were good. Your family was healthy. As a family you prayed together very consistently. However only your father made an offering every new moon, when the sun dominated the sky. He was the only one allowed in your family shrine when the offering was made so you never really know what it was, but you assumed that it was part of your crops. Outside of that you would quietly tag along, looking at the stone walls in boredom and waiting for your father’s droning prayers to cease.

Then the leader of the kingdom to the north declared war on your kingdom, and able bodied men were conscripted to the army. Your father had to go, but he made sure to tell you that as the eldest child of the family it fell on you to make the monthly sacrifice. You honestly weren’t sure if the god existed or not but you make sure to tell your father that you will do as he asks if he isn’t back in time.

The new moon rolls around before your father returns. You select some of your best crops – corn, potatoes, greens. A bit of everything you grow. You even throw in two loaves of fresh bread that you’d baked earlier that day. That had to be enough. 

Your father had explained the reason why the sacrifice was made the day of the new moon. It was when the sun was at its most powerful, and your family’s patron god was a solar deity. Your father had waxed poetic about everything that this particular god did but you weren’t exactly listening. It was important to your father though, so you’d do what he asked. You enter the small, windowless building that your father built to the god. Despite the fact that there were no windows the roof was glass, with a circular hole in the center. Torches lined the walls, and you were surprised to see that they were burning. They had always been burning when you came in with your family but you assumed that your father lit them. You take the few steps to the flat, wide table that serves as the altar, taking a few moments to study it. The table was a large stone slab moreso than a table, really. A second large stone sat in the front, carved with what looks like fire, and a single word.

Endeavor.

You say it quietly to yourself, your voice echoing strangely in the small room. It gives you a strange feeling as if you’re being watched. You place the basket on the altar and dip your head respectfully before you head out, closing the door quietly behind you.

Your father doesn’t return before the next new moon. This means that you need to give the next offering. You pack up another basket of your best crops and bake some small cakes this time, bringing the offering out when the sun is highest in the sky. You let yourself into the room again and make your way to the altar. Before you can set your basket down, though, all the torches go out.

You turn and step down off the small dias that the table sits on, looking at them. You’re confused. You shut the door, there should be no air coming through here. And even if there was it hadn’t been that windy today. So what had made the torches go out…?

“Foolish mortal.” A booming voice echoes from behind you and you jump, whirling around. Standing before you is the largest man you’ve ever beheld. He has to be almost seven feet tall, shoulders almost as wide as the altar. Thick, strong arms crossed over a barrel chest. Legs roped with muscle. He’s wearing a deep red tunic that reminds you of fire. Or of blood. His eyes are the brightest blue you’ve ever seen, and his gaze makes you want to run for your life.

“Your sacrifice was paltry, laughable. Offensive. I do not take sacrifices in the form of plants and breads.” He spits the words as if you’d offered him manure instead of your best crops. “I require something with vitality. Blood. Meat.” The large god sneers down at you and you can’t help but recoil a little. That was what your father did every month? How had you not noticed him killing something to bring in here?

Then the god – Endeavor, if the word on the altar was correct – was walking toward you. He was even larger and more intimidating as he stared down at you with a scowl. His arms were now hanging at his sides, and you couldn’t help but notice that each of his hands could easily engulf your entire head. Your eyes are snapped back up to his face as he speaks again. “As I see that you’ve brought another unacceptable offering, I will provide you with two choices. Either you find me something better, or I’m removing my blessing from your family.”

Better. You curse inwardly and bite your lip. What could you offer a god?

“I’m waiting, mortal.” You look up at him while still biting your lip. “I’m… I’m not killing anything. I can’t. Is there something else you’ll accept?” Endeavor raises his brow and crosses his arms over his chest once more.

“I told you what my requirements are. Either give me what I desire or your blessings are revoked.” You go over in your head everything that your father claimed prayer to this god was responsible for. Your safety. Healthy livestock. Your family’s health. You think of your sibling, who hadn’t been feeling well recently. You think of your mother, and how weak she had been after your last sibling had been born. You think about the harsh winters that only a bountiful harvest that summer had enabled you to survive. You’re struck with a cold realization that your family could possibly perish without these boons. And it would be entirely your fault.

The words are out of your mouth without any further thought. “I wish to sacrifice myself.” You stand straighter, jaw clenched in determination and hands balled at your sides. He doesn’t respond right away, just appraises you quietly.

“Hm. It has been some time since a maiden has offered herself as the sacrifice. Very well. I accept.” With a speed you almost can’t follow he snatches your arm and drags you up to the altar. You’ve resigned yourself to this fate, sorrowful that you won’t be able to say goodbye to your family. But they’ll be safe, and that soothes the pain of the fact that a god is about to kill you. You’re all but flung over the altar, hips hitting the edge hard. You close your eyes and prepare for the crushing blow.

What you don’t expect are large hands smoothing over your side and your hips. Your heart pounds and your thoughts run wild as the soft caresses continue, unhurried and purposeful. What was he doing? Why didn’t he just get on with it and kill you? Was he trying to decide the best way to do it? Did he eat his sacrifices? A nervous laugh bubbles in your chest but doesn’t quite make it out as you think of your mother telling a much younger you to not play with your food.

The hands slide back up from your calves, over your hips, up your sides. You’re trembling, the anticipation to your own death is horrible. He gently gathers your hair to one side and grips at the back of your neck. Ah, so he would snap your neck. At least it would be over quickly. But he just squeezes and then drags his fingertips down your clothed spine. You’re a bundle of nerves and near tears, wishing he would just kill you and end this. Then the hands come to rest on your ass, heavy palms kneading the flesh, and he pushes his hips into you. Endeavor’s voice rings in your mind - it has been some time since a maiden has offered herself as the sacrifice – and you realize that he does not intend to kill you. Oh. Oh. He wants… This is much, much more preferable.

You’re no stranger to sex. You were of marrying age, and the boy that you had been interested in had talked you into lying with him before he ran off to wed the girl his parents had set up for him. You’d had no knowledge of their arrangement, and you were crushed. Luckily your parents were understanding of the fact that your heart had been shattered even if they weren’t aware of just how far things had gone with the boy. They didn’t press for you to find a husband. You were a help to your parents, they were not very keen on losing that. You had been with this boy a few times, enough times that you weren’t afraid as the god started to lift your dress.

Your experience was limited, so you almost jumped out of your skin when you felt a long stripe of a tongue licking up your slit. Your knees buckle. His tongue is so hot, and now that his hands are on your bare skin you’re acutely aware of just how much heat is radiating from him. You’ve never been in the presence of a god, let alone this close to one. Did they all feel like this? Or was it just this one in particular? This line of thought is interrupted as he licks another hard stripe up your sex, pulling a shaky moan from you. You’d never had a mouth there before. It was amazing how good it felt.

He didn’t speak as he lavished his tongue over your core. He only gives a rumbling noise of approval as your body responds to his attention and he laps up the slick he’s getting out of you. You’re confused about what is happening since the boy you’d been with previously had only kissed you, and thrust up between your legs a few times. But who are you to question a god? Especially one that is gripping your upper thigh this hard and whose tongue is starting to curl inside you like that.

Your legs are spreading wider to accommodate his bulk without really thinking about it, needing more of whatever he’s doing to you. Your eyes are fluttering closed, breath coming out in pants, risen up on the tips of your toes. You can’t believe how amazing it feels. But then thick fingers are sliding along your slit as well. One of them slips easily inside. You’re surprised at how one finger rivals the boy you’d been with, and how easily it slid in. How wet you were. Except Endeavor’s finger is crooking inside of you and hitting spots that you didn’t know existed. You gasp when he hits a certain spot, your legs shaking. He chuckles at your response and resumes running his tongue along the outside of your sex.

Neither of you speak as he works you over. The only sound in the small temple are the noises he’s drawing from you with his meticulous movements. You’re still pretty quiet, even as he’s making your eyes roll back in your head. You feel like you need to be. The temple is far enough from the house, but your siblings like to play in the field that cuts through between the temple and the house. You didn’t want them to come check on you and find you like this.

You can’t help the yelp when his finger slides out and two slide back in though. It doesn’t hurt, but you weren’t expecting it. You feel so full. It’s a new feeling, and it’s so perfect. His fingers alternate between curling up and pressing into the spot that makes you gasp and scissoring. Your hips are rocking back into his hand. Your own hands grasping at the edge of the altar. His fingers are working you expertly and his tongue is still dragging along your skin and dipping down to suck gently at your clit. It feels like there’s a wire in your belly and it’s being pulled tighter and tighter. It’s divine. You need more.

Just as you think this, he obliges. A third finger slips easily inside of you. This time when he presses up against that spot again you cry out, feeling something in you snap, and clench around the intrusion. He gently flexes his finger over the spot as you ride out whatever this was. You’d never had an orgasm before. Just as the heat in your belly starts to die down he easily slides in a fourth finger. He is not done with you yet. You can’t believe how far you’re stretched with no pain. But Endeavor is sliding out of you, making you whimper from the sudden emptiness. His large hands slide around to your front, one resting on your stomach and one sliding up to grasp your jaw. His hand is so big that some fingers are also pressing into your throat. You feel him lift you from the altar – from the floor entirely – and brings you to rest on him. Your back is pressed to his hard chest, and your slit is resting on his large shaft. Before you can feel any panic over how big he is everywhere, he tilts your head back and catches your lips with his own.

Your mind flatlines. You’re kissing a god. He has you fully off the floor, barely able to brush your toes if you point them. You can’t help the soft moan that is lost in his mouth. His hips start to move, rocking back and forth. Sliding along your slit, collecting your slick on his shaft. You’re starting to lose the need to stay quiet. The way he’s holding you up, the way his tongue tastes like you, it all feels so forbidden. It sends a spike of heat to your core. Before you even realize you’re doing it, your hips are rocking with his own. At least as well as they can when he has you pinned to his chest like this.

You’re losing yourself in his kiss. One of your arms comes up to cup the back of his neck, wanting to pull him closer. Needing more of this heat that he radiates. He growls as your hips slide over his length more desperately, finally tearing his mouth from yours and dropping you to bend you back over the altar. You hear the sound of him spitting on his own cock, then the press of his blunt head lining up with your entrance. He pushes in the first inch, puts his hands on your hips as an anchor, then rocks in and out a few times until he’s seated perfectly inside of you.

“E-Endeavor-” you gasp out once he fills you completely. You’ve never felt so full. He doesn’t move at first. There’s a fleeting thought about how considerate he is to allow you to adjust to his size, but your need for him to move makes you start to push your hips back into him. He lets out another growl and his grip on your hips gets harder. He drags out, then slams back in.

He starts to fuck you in earnest against the altar, and you’re once again scrambling to hold onto the edge. All thoughts of staying quiet are completely gone from your head. You’re moaning loudly with each thrust, especially as he starts grunting with the effort of fucking you senseless. It’s nice to know that you can affect a god like that. Endeavor curses and pulls you back flush against him before pinning you to his chest with one hand again. His free hand grips the back of your thigh and pulls your leg up. He lets go of your midsection and has your other thigh held up as well. Your back is pressed hard against his chest, legs splayed out. You’re not entirely sure how he pulls the move off, but he’s a god so you don’t question it. You can’t even if you want to because he’s drilling to you again in earnest.

You manage to get your hands around the back of Endeavor’s neck to keep yourself from bouncing on his cock too hard and enable you to press your hips back down against him. He turns to tuck his face into your neck, nipping at the skin there. You can feel that wire tightening in your belly again, but it’s all over when he mouths at your earlobe. “Cum again. Cum all over my cock,” he rumbles into your ear. The command sends you over the edge, and you’re clamping down on him hard. He growls as he slams into you once last time, leaving blooming bruises where his fingers dig into your thighs, as he fills you up.

He doesn’t pull out of you at first. He’s breathing hard, and you’re collapsed against his chest and breathing hard as well. After a few moments he carefully lifts you off of him and sits you on his altar before standing back. His tunic is covering him once more, and you’re struggling to focus on him. His sharp blue eyes are staring at you, mouth still turned into a frown. He looks so nonplussed, like he didn’t just fuck you stupid. He looks so mean.

“This sacrifice was acceptable. I expect the same at the next new moon.” Then he was gone.

You stay there for a few moments, unsure if your legs will support your weight. Finally you slide from the altar. There’s a stream behind the temple that you can clean up at. Then you can head back to the house. You’re already looking forward to the next new moon. The only thing you’re concerned about now is how to explain to your father that Endeavor no longer wants his sacrifices.

#enji #todoroki enji #endeavor #my hero academia #endeavor x reader #endeavor imagines #todoroki enji imagines #bnha imagines #bnha collab #citrus dome collab #citrus dome #bnha smut

[sserpente]

As a deposit | Part (1/2)

Synopsis: “Come now, don’t be like that. There must be something else I can appease you with. How about an alternative? A deposit? Be a guest in my house. You’ll get your own room, your own bed and as much beer and ale as you like. Beef, chicken, pork… I can get you everything. You must have appetites like any other man.” Geralt remained silent, making your father clench his fists. “What about a woman?”

With a start, he looked up. You frowned. He would never invite a whore to his home, now would he? He cared too much about his reputation. But to your utter shock and surprise, he suddenly glanced at you. “My daughter is still untouched.”

A/N: Finally! I realised 2000 words in that this will need a Part II at some point but for now… please enjoy my first Geralt of Rivia Imagine! I hope I managed to capture his character, I love how pensive he always seems. Have fun reading and—if you haven’t seen “The Witcher” already, please do so now! Find the Spanish version of this story translated by @along-the-lines-of-space here!

Words: 2537 Warnings: mentions of prostitution and violence, bad parenting

The rumours had been true. He was here. You had heard so many stories about him—terrifying yet breath-taking stories. His appearance… Geralt of Rivia had been described to you as a tall and intimidating man. Some even said he had horns, and claws instead of hands. No one had ever compared him to a Greek God. He was… stunning.

Long blond, no… white hair, muscles which surely could make you feel safe in his embrace, an angular jawline, dark eyebrows… and a pair of piercing, yellow eyes. You gulped. They had not been entirely wrong though. He did look intimidating.

Taking a deep and shaky breath, you gathered all of your courage and stepped closer. He was tending to his horse, a beautiful brown stud. You gaped at it in awe, your sweaty fingers clutching at your cheap dress.

“I’m sorry… are you… you are… you are Geralt, of Rivia.” He peered at you from the corner of his eye.

“I am.” A shiver went through you. His voice was dark, low… menacing.

“I need your help. Please.”

“I don’t have time, I’m just passing through.” He grumbled, eyebrows slightly raised as he fiddled around with one of the battered leather saddlebags, turning his back to you.

“No, wait, please!” Your eyes caught sight of the tavern in front of him. “I’ll buy you a drink!” Vigorously, you rummaged through the pockets of your dress. The old widow living across the bridge at the other end of the forest had given you a coin for helping her digging over her garden for the upcoming season this morning. It would be just enough for one pint of ale.

Geralt’s mouth twisted, a sigh making him halt. For a brief moment, he seemed to contemplate his next words.

“Fine,” he eventually growled. He headed straight towards the tavern, expecting you to follow him without looking back.

-

“My father is devastated. If he loses any more men, he will have to close the mine. They…” You swallowed. “…keep finding new corpses every day. One night he came home drenched in blood, traumatised… whatever monster is in there, it’s savage and it’s bloodthirsty.” You shivered only thinking about the horrors unfolding inside the mine. And of course, there was a fear residing deep within you that eventually, it would grow tired of the cave and slaughter the entire village… but that was not why you had asked Geralt of Rivia for his help.

Your father was a cruel man who despised you deeply for your mere existence. Unlike his other daughter, your half-sister, you were not of his blood—and when your mother died, it had been her last wish for him to care for you as much as he would care for his own flesh and blood. You had long been of age now—and he had already threatened to sell you off to the nearest brothel if he truly had to close down the mine.

“So you want me to kill the monster in the mine.” Geralt concluded, his big hands playing with the bulbous jug. You nodded sheepishly.

“Please… I’ll take you to my father’s. He can tell you a lot more about it than I can.” Licking his lips, his gaze drifted away for a moment, almost as if the entire situation displeased him. It was a moment you wished to look inside his head to find out what it really was he was thinking. When his captivating yellow eyes met yours again, your heart jumped involuntarily.

“Take me to your father then.” With one last big sip, he emptied his ale. Upon his question of why you had not gotten anything to drink for yourself, you had simply claimed you were not thirsty.

-

“Father? Father, I’m back! Father—“

He stepped in sight mere seconds after, eyeing the Witcher behind you suspiciously. Hideous man, Geralt thought. Full of spite, hatred, self-righteousness and selfishness. Nothing like… you.

“Have you lost your mind now?” He snapped. “Bringing strange men into my home?!” Geralt crossed his arms before his broad chest behind you, observing your father with a scrutinising gaze—like no movement would escape him.

“No! Father, this is—“ You were cut off by a sharp slap on your cheek, your head forced aside as a stinging and burning pain spread on the left half of your face. You gasped. But it was not the first time he cuffed you for your alleged disobedience.

“F-Father, it’s not what you think. This is…”

“Geralt of Rivia,” he interrupted you with a powerful voice—it seemed to echo through the entire room, shrinking it down to make him look like a giant. “Your daughter begged me to help you with your monster. In the mines.”

Your father’s watery eyes widened.

“You? You’re the… Witcher?” He swallowed, pausing for a moment. With a start, his entire demeanour changed, a feigned politeness and hospitality supporting a fake and eerie smile. “I’ve heard tales about you… songs… Come on in then… you must have had a long journey. I have food and drinks.”

Geralt replied nothing as he followed your father into the kitchen were your half-sister was already waiting, at the served table. It was dinner time already. Bread, meat and cheese had been spread on it, along with some beer from the brewery whose owner your father had befriended, inviting you to sit down and dig in.

Your half-sister’s eyes widened when she spotted Geralt enter, hands folded in her lap intimidated.

“Please sit. Eat with me—I’ll tell you all about my misery.” The Witcher hesitated but sat down at the table regardless. You joined him only reluctantly. Suddenly, you wanted to be as far away from this awkward and stifling situation as possible. Had it been a good idea after all, to ask such a dangerous man for help?

“So tell me, Geralt. Are all those tales about you true?” Your father began, pouring himself some beer and biting into a piece of meat. The crunchy sound made you shiver rather than your mouth water.

“Some of them are… others are not.” He responded dryly. One piece of meat was all he took to eat.

“I hope you’re the man for the job then.”

He hummed. “If the payment is right.”

“How much?”

“Three-hundred.”

Your father snorted. “A proud price for someone who remains a mystery even with his feet under my table. But be that as it might. My daughter already told you that ugly monster made itself comfortable in my mine. I keep losing my men. You’ll get the money as soon as we can start harvesting coal again. Should be a few days at most.” He suggested carelessly.

“I can’t wait that long,” Geralt grumbled fast, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He clearly felt as uncomfortable in this house as you did. “You either pay me when the job is done or you find yourself another Witcher. Good luck with that.” He concluded, a hint of sarcasm playing in his dark voice.

He clearly didn’t like your father—and you could not blame him. He was a despicable man. Mutely, you kept listening to the tense conversation, hope drifting away from you with every word spoken.

“Come now, don’t be like that. There must be something else I can appease you with. How about an alternative? A deposit? Be a guest in my house. You’ll get your own room, your own bed and as much beer and ale as you like. Beef, chicken, pork… I can get you everything. You must have appetites like any other man.” Geralt remained silent, making your father clench his fists. “What about a woman?”

With a start, he looked up. You frowned. He would never invite a whore to his home, now would he? He cared too much about his reputation. But to your utter shock and surprise, he suddenly glanced at you. “My daughter is still untouched.”

No… You had brought the White Wolf to your father to save yourself from prostitution, not run straight towards it and receive it with open arms.

“Do we have a deal?” Geralt gave your father a dark look.

He couldn’t possibly agree to this. You had heard so much about him but… but you knew he respected women and their strength, didn’t he? He wouldn’t…

“Fine. Three days.” Your heart skipped a beat.

-

Your father didn’t have a spare room. Instead, he had offered Geralt yours—since you would be sharing a bed with him tonight anyway. You had been shivering ever since, excused yourself from the table and given in to your tears and terror in the small bathroom in the house.

You did not want to lose your virginity to a man you could barely trust, regardless of how attractive he was. Should you run? Where to? Your father knew the whole village. If he didn’t catch you and brought you back… then wat if the brothel owner did? And if you stayed… who said your father wouldn’t just keep selling your body to strange men after Geralt had left for good anyways?

You considered the alternative—homeless, cold, starving, begging and hiding from the man who was supposed to protect and raise you.

With your heart in your mouth, you entered your bedroom about an hour later, when the voices in the kitchen had finally ceased. Would he be upset if you slept in your dress? Naked skin against naked skin… it felt too intimate. You wanted—if you were going to do this—preserve at least some sort of dignity and privacy, some sort of distance from him.

Geralt was already in your room. He had taken off his black shirt, leaving him naked from the waist up. You blinked, unable to stop yourself from admiring the many muscles and scars on his body, along with that fascinating silver necklace—the Witcher necklace.

Your eyes met—yet he did not say a word.

You were not ready to do this… With a shaky breath aiming keep yourself from fainting, you climbed in bed, fingers clutching at the soft bed sheets. Then, having closed your eyes for a moment to gather your remaining strength, you nodded at him.

Geralt approached the bed so slowly you tensed up, swallowing thickly; when the mattress sank, so did your pounding heart.

He did not look like someone who would be gentle in bed… or would he? Still trembling, you reached for your skirts. It was only then Geralt finally spoke again and much to your surprise, his voice had grown… mellow.

“No. Stop.” Taken aback you froze, looking up at him insecurely.

“I don’t rape women.” He explained seriously. “And you’re not doing this of your own free will.” He was perceptive—incredibly so, probably had to be as a Witcher. Most men would not have cared, even if they had noticed.

Geralt lied down when you responded nothing, only gazed down sadly at your hands in your lap as relief crushed over your body like a tidal wave. He didn’t want to ravish you tonight…

His body felt so warm next to yours, made you feel so secure. Just as if, with Geralt by your side, you were actually safe. Protected.

“My father… he’ll think we, um…” You paused.

“Don’t worry about him. I’m leaving town tomorrow.”

“W-what?” Your heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean? You… you won’t help us?”

“No,” he growled quietly.

“But… I thought… is it because my father can’t pay you? Please, he will. He might not be a very decent man but he never breaks his promises.” If anything to uphold his reputation. “He will pay you.”

“It’s not that. The monster your father described to me is not a monster.” You frowned. “It speaks, it’s intelligent. It lives in the mines and your father and his men are carving out the entire cave for coal. He’s defending his territory.”

“But he’s still killing people! Innocent people! What if he gets angry, what if he leaves the mine and wreaks havoc in our village?”

Geralt sighed, his bare chest heaving as he turned in bed to face the ceiling. He closed his eyes for a moment.

“Geralt, please… at least… at least go talk to it… he… whatever it is. You must have dealt with… creatures like this before. Please…”

You were shivering again—not just from the usual chilliness in this room, but also from the growing fear returning to your body, clawing at your guts. Finally, the Witcher opened his yellow eyes again, his forehead decorating an almost disturbed frown.

“Why are you so keen on helping your father? He obviously treats you like shit.” He spat. You flinched.

“He’s… he’s not my real father. He is… was my mother’s new husband, before she passed. My half-sister is his only child.”

“Then why are you helping him? Are you afraid you’ll continue to live in poverty?” You snorted. If only that was the case.

“No. He… last week he suggested to sell me off to a brothel for a ‘nice sum’ to make up for his growing losses with the mine. He knows the bordello owner, he’d… he’d be very interested in having me.”

Geralt breathed in audibly. Your eyes locked.

“And now he offered you to me.” He concluded. You nodded sadly, your trembling intensifying. With a shaky breath, you buried yourself under your covers. Geralt was right. Your situation was pretty hopeless. Swallowing, you turned your back to him, biting back the stinging tears forming in your eyes.

Your shaking did not cease—not until you suddenly felt his strong arms around you, his muscly chest pressing against your back. His bare skin on yours seemed to be singeing yours wherever it made contact with your body.

“Thank you…” You whispered, another wave of security and comfort washing over you, making you tired. If he wasn’t going to help you… you would at least accept his offer to keep you warm for the night.

And then the last thing racing through your mind before you fell asleep was that maybe—just maybe, having Geralt of Rivia take your innocence might not have been so bad after all.

-

When you woke up the next morning, Geralt was gone. Blinking right into the rising sun fighting its way through your curtains, you sat up, looking around your sparsely decorated room without expecting to find him.

Your sister was staring at you curiously by the time you entered the kitchen. When did not respond to her gaze, she beamed at you.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“How was it? I heard it hurts the first time. How did it feel? Did you bleed? He’s a Witcher, I doubt he was very gentle with you.” You remained silent. Before she could urge you on to reply to her, your father joined you at the breakfast table.

“Where is Geralt?” You asked instead, even though you feared you already knew the answer. Surely that was why his response caught you off guard.

“Well, where do you think?” He snorted. “He left for the mines before sunrise. Slaying that fucking monster killing my men.”

 -

A/N: Cliffhanger. I know. No, I’m not sorry. *giggles* I hope you enjoyed that! Let me know what you think! Part II can be found here!

Also, check out my blog to find more Imagines and take a glimpse at my first (to be) published novel! If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate so much if you supported me on Kofi! ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

#geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia imagine #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia x reader #the witcher #the witcher imagine #netflix #henry cavill #geralt imagine #geralt x you #geralt x reader

[sardinesandhumbugs]

(a-place-to-come-back-to) hmmm “You can keep pretending, but you’ll never be happy” gives me Badger Rat Sr and Toad Sr vibes

A/N: Thank you for the prompt! This ficlet is set fairly early into Badger's friendship with Rat Sr and Toad Sr, before things settled into the easy friendship he remembers. Even the best of friendships can have... bumpy origins :D

Want to request a prompt? Find the list here!

x

Rat considered himself a fairly laid back sort of animal (a necessary trait for growing up alongside the undaunted Toad) but even he had second (not to mention first) thoughts when it came to the Wild Wood.

He was sure most of the rumours were merely malicious hearsay (for instance, he was fairly certain the locals didn't eat wayward Riverbankers) but he doubted any animal – Wild Wooder or no – would take kindly to the disturbance. For, upon the rusted bell-pull detaching (the bell itself had given one dull toll before giving up the ghost) Toad had set to hammering and hollering at the unadorned door with the kind of volume that would wake the dead – and, more importantly, the living, who were far more likely to take matters into their own paws.

"Honestly, I don't know how he ever entertains guests," Toad lamented in a rare lapse in the cacophony. "Can barely find the blasted place and then when you do you don't realise it. You'd think an animal like Badger would clear the ivy from the name plate once in a while or make sure his bell is in working order. Any lesser animal visiting would have admitted defeat by now," he said, as usual looking but not truly seeing.

"Perhaps we should reconsider this," Rat said, who had taken good note of the state of disrepair of Badger's front porch and come to a bleak conclusion of his own. "He may not even be home."

"Oh pooh to that, of course he's home. Anyway, Rat, it was you who took note of his recent change in mood."

"And I was thinking of a subtler approach."

"You say subtler, I say slower." Evidently deciding that his knocking was falling into the subtle category, Toad added his raised voice to the mix. "Come along, Badge; who cares what the hares say? Be the bigger animal we know you are and come on out!"

"Badge?" Rat echoed.

Toad shrugged. "I'm trying it out. 'Badger' is such a mouthful."

"It's two syllables."

"And I'm halving that. It's called efficiency. BADGE!" Rat jumped at the brusque rise in volume. "Badger, we know you're there! What do you think you're achieving with this hiding away, huh? Do you think this is what you want? To live alone in a dark and dingy tunnel all your life? We know you, Badge! You can keep pretending, but you'll never be happy like this!"

The door swung open so abruptly that Badger must have already been standing on the other side for some time. He loomed over the two Riverbankers, his face half cast in shadow from the wood's gloom. "You know nothing about me," he growled.

"Oh, we know plenty," Toad contradicted happily. He took advantage of Badger's oversight in opening the door, and slipped past the larger animal. "Such as the state you leave your front porch in. Where should I put the bell-pull? Oh, no matter; I'll send for a new one when I'm back at Toad Hall."

Badger glowered, but could do little about Toad's entrance without hauling him bodily out, and turned back to the remaining Riverbanker on his doorstep. "I suppose," he intoned, "you plan on following your friend inside."

It was at this point that Rat realised there was at least a yard's grace between them – if not more – that had been of his own making. He shortened it, knowing full well that his instinctive retreat had not gone unnoticed. "Badger–"

"Just get yourself inside before your tail freezes off."

Rat scurried in. As Badger hauled the door shut, the brumal weather outside lost its icy grip and the beneath-ground air yielded a steady, heavy warmth quite unlike Riverbank homes in winter. (Toad Hall suffered particularly badly in the yuletide season, saved only by the ludicrous expense Toad went to keep such a grand house heated.)

Up ahead, Toad had already started scoping out the elusive sett that paid host to so few animals. "I say, Badge," he called, his voice echoing in such a manner to indicate he had put quite the distance between them, "I take back what I said earlier; dark this place may be, but dingy it most certainly is not."

Rat followed Badger through the dimly-lit tunnels, passing through decreasingly lived-in rooms until finally coming to the cause of Toad's admiration. It was, Rat had to admit, grand. Ancient columns, half buried into the walls, lined the room that could fit Toad Hall's ballroom with ease, and Toad was already setting to lighting the lanterns to better appraise the space.

"Badge, you never said you had a place like this!" Toad exclaimed. "Why, just think of the balls, the banquets, that could be hosted in a space such as this! I admit, the acoustics are a little harsh, but I have just the tapestries to dampen the sound, and with a spot of extra light it'd be perfect!"

Rat glanced to Badger out of the corner of his eye and read the larger animal's stony expression.

"I apologise. Toad means well, but he puts far too much stock in the art of distraction as a solution," he muttered. He inclined his head. "Mind you, he often gripes that I'd try to talk the river out of flooding if I could, so I suspect we even each other out."

"I prefer action, myself," Badger grumbled.

They watched a moment longer as Toad bounced across the empty space, chattering to nobody about the grand plans he could see strewn out before him. ("Naturally, this is where the band would go... and the buffet would sit along here, I'm thinking cold meats, cheeses; the last thing you want is the smell of cooked food suffocating a place like this...")

"I can probably talk him out of it," Rat offered quietly, "if you'd like."

Badger scoffed and retreated into the more inhabited rooms. "He can organise as many damn parties as he likes, so long as he doesn't come complaining to me when no animal arrives."

Rat had to take two quick steps for every one of Badger's long strides, eager to stay in the pool of light cast by Badger's lantern. "Oh, I think you underestimate Toad – he has quite a way with folk when he sets his mind to it. It can be both very useful and infuriating."

"I'm sure he does," Badger said, "but what possible reason could he tempt animals down to a place like this with?"

"Good food, good music," Rat rattled off. "Drink. Conversation. Gossip, usually." He hesitated, and added, "Curiosity."

"And is that why you came?"

"We came," and Rat hurried so that he and his words would not be left behind, "because we were worried about you."

Badger halted so abruptly that Rat had to skip a step back to avoid walking into him. "Worried?" he echoed incredulously. "About me?"

"Is that really so hard to believe?" Rat hastened on before Badger could remark upon Toad's distraction. "I'm sorry if we pressured you into joining us for the harvest festival; Toad's so extraverted that I think he forgets not everyone is, and I... well, I thought you might enjoy it. I hadn't realised that, being a born and bred Riverbanker, I might not have seen... some of the more insensitive sides of the other animals."

Badger met Rat's gaze with an expression Rat couldn't quite decipher. "So you heard what was being said?"

"I heard enough."

An odd choice indeed, the whispers had gone as Toad's newest friend had made his social debut, but, then again, toads are an odd bunch anyway, almost as odd as badgers are solitary, and that's just a fact.

Unusual to see a badger out of the Wild Woods, more unusual still to see one in the company of animals other than their own kind.

It probably won't last.

Everyone knows what they say about badgers changing their stripes.

"And then, when we didn't see you for a week, of course we worried," Rat said, trying to turn the conversation round to matters he could control. "We wanted to make sure you were alright."

Badger scoffed again and turned down a corridor that opened out into a fire-lit kitchen. "And why would you care?"

"We care because we're your friends."

Badger turned on his heel. "Are you?"

Too late, Rat realised he'd flinched back, that same instinctive wariness springing up around a mammal so much larger than himself. Around a mammal that was possibly more Wild Wood than Undergrounder, and he didn't want to find out which side was dominant.

Badger's gaze moved derisively over the sudden space between them. "That's what I thought," he growled. "I'm not a charity case and I'm not a curiosity, and you'd do well to learn that."

"Was he wrong?"

Badger faltered, if only for a moment. "What?"

"Toad," Rat said, clinging onto the single truth that had propelled him this far. "Was he wrong? Are you happy here?"

"I am... accustomed to things the way they are," Badger replied.

"Are you happy?" Rat persisted. "If you are, then we'll get out of your fur. I'll find a way to drag Toad out of his harebrained schemes, and things can go back to the way they were. But... if you're not – if you have enjoyed the past few months with – with us – then let us stay."

The silence lingered for just a heartbeat too long.

Badger turned away. "I'm fine. I always am."

"I asked if you are happy, not fine," Rat amended. He watched as Badger took a seat at the tired armchair at the head of the kitchen table, and Rat cautiously drew up a chair a little further down. For not the first time – albeit perhaps not as acutely as now – he wondered just how Badger had come to be alone in this sett built for generations. There had certainly always been badgers here, but Rat had paid them little heed before now, for they were a reclusive species and generally kept to their own kin and everyone was happy with that.

He winced.

There it was again, that assumption.

It was the same assumption that had led to such obtuse remarks at the harvest festival and, indeed, Rat could not honestly deny that even he had expected Toad's newest acquaintance to be a passing fad at first. (Toad had a way with folk that rendered many friendships forged but rarely followed-up, and Rat had originally been comfortable with the assumption that Badger would be another such encounter.)

"You know," Rat said, pushing such thoughts aside, "Toad and I didn't – actually, don't, present tense – always get along." He pulled the chair a smidgen closer to the table, settling it with the overt intent to stay. "He reacts a little too impulsively, and I perhaps too little, and we clash as often as we agree." Badger didn't respond, and Rat figured this was as close to permission to continue as he was going to get. "We argued over coming here, in fact." He snorted. "Toad won, of course and I'm – well, I'm glad he did."

"Why are you here, Rat?"

Rat startled at the question he'd thought already answered. "I told you, because you're–"

"Truly. No saccharine sentiments."

Rat faltered, the easy platitude taken from him. In the space he took to consider, a clock tolled somewhere deep in the sett. "I suppose," he started slowly, "it's because I think we could be friends. If we wanted to. If we tried. And because I think, however much you protest, maybe you want that too."

x

A/N: The inspiration for this piece was Vienna Teng's Stray Italian Greyhound song which is technically about learning to fall in love for the first time, but I like interpreting it in a learning to trust a friendship for the first time way. (Especially in Badger's case for this, realising oopsie I caught platonic feels and life was so much easier before, not sure if I hate or love this.) If you want some added feels for this fic, go look up that song ;)

#cat writes #the dad trio #wind in the willows musical #witw fanfic #the point where I realise I'm writing badger based partially on the 1995 animated badger as much as the musical #anyway rat sr and badger went onto be possibly closer friends than rat sr and toad sr #but eh the course of (platonic) love never did run smooth #ehhh I was planning this to be about Badger's feelings on the subject #but started out from rat sr's POV so that didn't exactly work out #basically badger has always been pretty good at ignoring what Society says #and he's resigned himself to the fact that toad's unexpected friendship is just a fad #a 'let's befriend the badger' kinda novelty #and that once it wears off then toad sr will move on #and then badger went 'shit I actually like this friendship and now i'm worried about when the rejection eventually happens' #so decided to cut the cord himself #not expecting rat sr and toad sr to refuse to let him retreat into himself like that #this is the point where rat sr moved away from the assumption that he and badger were tied together simply because they were both #friends with toad sr #and instead starts actively considering badger his friend #not because he didn't like badger before then #but you have that weird 'two people friends with the same person trying to figure out where they stand' vibe going on

[ragingbookdragon]

Early Christmas Gifts

A Connor Kenway x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 1,730 Warnings: None

Author’s Note: I’m in a Connor mood and it’s December. Sue me. Enjoy! -Thorne

She sat beside the old man in the rocking chair, occasionally sipping the tea she’d made. The first snows of December dusted the ground and while it was absolutely freezing, it was too much of a beautiful day to stay in.

           Her eyes drifted over to the old man who quietly flipped through the book he held. “Achilles, should I get you another blanket?”

           He shook his head. “No. I’m going to head inside in a few moments anyway, (Y/N).”

           She nodded and shifted her gaze to the masts of the Aquila. “Is Ratonhnhaké:ton in today?”

           “Should be,” Achilles said. “but you know him. He goes where the wind takes him.”

           (Y/N) hummed. “I think it’s more of he goes where curiosity takes him.”

           The old man snorted and snapped the book shut. “He is curious.” She nodded, thinking it was the end of the conversation—Achilles was a man of few words. “He’s curious about you.”

           Her head shot up and she gaped at him. “Excuse me?”

           Achilles merely offered her a knowing smile before rising to his feet. “I’m going inside for a nap.”

           (Y/N)’s mouth opened and closed. “Wait, Achilles, he’s what about me?”

           “Figure it out yourself. You’re not a fool.” He waved her off, the closing of the backdoor the real signature of the conversation closing.

           Brows furrowing, she bent over, her hands pressed to her cheeks. “Well, I know I’m not a fool, but what am I supposed to do?” Her face pinched and she argued, “I feel for him, but does that mean he’s curious about that? Or is he curious about colonial women in general? And to what end?” (Y/N) groaned and buried her face in her hands. “Oh, this isn’t good. Curse that old man for leaving me with a riddle like this.”

           “Like what?” A voice sounded above her and (Y/N) screeched like a banshee. In her mild hysteria she jerked back, the chair going with her and she tumbled over. She faceplanted onto the back porch and lay there for a moment before letting out a heavy groan.

           “Owwww!” she whined, and hands gripped her upper arms, lifting her up as if she were put a feather. She wiggled when they had her in the air. “Put me down! I am not a sack of potatoes!” They did as she asked, gently setting her down and she spun on them, immediately turning into a flustered mess. “Ratonhnhaké:ton? What? What are you doing here?”

           His dark brows furrowed. “I live here.”

           No? Really? I couldn’t tell. (Y/N) almost rolled her eyes and started picking the chair up, but Connor did it for her. “I thought you’d be out hunting or…whatever it is you do, you know…with your free time.” Nice conversing (Y/N), that’s really going to spur him into fancying you.

           “I was hunting earlier.” He said, folding the blanket that had fallen from her lap.

           “Did you catch anything?” she inquired, taking the blanket when he held it out.

           “I skinned a wolf and an elk.”

           (Y/N) perked up at that. “Did you save the meat?” He nodded. “I can make dinner with that.” She threw the blanket over her shoulder. “Oh! I could make elk jerky too!” She smiled. “You can take it with you to snack on when you leave.”

           His smile sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach. “I would appreciate that greatly.”

           Her cheeks warmed and she let out a ‘pfft’, hoping it would ease her embarrassment. Instead, she focused on, “So, what are you going to do with the hides?”

           Connor opened the door for her, letting her inside first. “I will most likely make belts with the leather and make blades with the antlers.”

           “I bet those would be nice to have.” She agreed, walking into the kitchen. He followed her, watching as she opened up the wax cloth. (Y/N) grabbed one of the knives from the rack and started slicing the elk meat but stopped when she felt his eyes.

           “…Do you want to help me, Ratonhnhaké:ton?” her question was quiet, as if she were in the middle of a circle of deer.

           “Would you like my help?”

           The response almost made her glare at him, but the look on his face held genuine earnest.

           “There’s some potatoes and onions outside. See if you can harvest any…please.” Connor smiled at her, and her face felt hot.

           “I will be right back.” He spun on his heel and exited the kitchen. The second the door closed, (Y/N) dropped her head on the kitchen counter and let out a groan. She was in way too deep. And somewhere in the manor, she could swear she heard Achilles laughing at her.

***

           The entire week was as chaotic and she had managed to avoid Connor at every turn, but it was getting harder and harder to excuse herself when he found her. Of course, she’d eventually backed herself into a corner, and by backing herself into a corner, she’d actually wandered too far into the surrounding forests of the Homestead and got herself lost. In her defense, she was looking for the hound that had run off.

           She shivered violently, puffs of air coming out in shimmering crystal clouds, as she trudged through the knee-high snow. For the life of her she couldn’t remember what her father had taught her as a child. Do I stay put or keep moving? (Y/N) stopped and looked up, the full moon stared back at her. Keep moving right? Tracks mean someone can follow. Following is good, yes? A lump rose in her throat and the chilly air made the tears sting her eyes, but she kept moving. Fear was definitely not something she did needed right now. She needed to stay focused and most importantly, she needed to stay calm.

           Her fingers felt like they were frozen solid, and she shoved them inside her coat, just under her arms. As long as she could still feel, she was okay. But time was against her, and with every passing second, she lost the feeling in her toes and it kept stretching, until it was at her thighs. (Y/N) took a heavy step and upon hitting a deeper bank than she realized, she stumbled over, rolling down the small hill.

           She lay there in the snow, too tired to move. The cold bit into her cheeks and nose but she didn’t care. This is it. she thought. I’m going to freeze to death in the middle of a forest. Her fingers twitched and she heaved, pulling herself up to her knees, but that was all the energy she could gather. (Y/N) buried her face in her arms and curled as tight as she could, hoping it would preserve heat. It did little compared to how freezing it was.

           Time passed by and her mind became hazy, but most concerningly, she started becoming warm. That’s a bad sign. (Y/N) vaguely remembered. Even I know that. She couldn’t feel her fingers now, nor her toes, and her pants were so soaked she could feel the chill to the bone.

           Through the cloud in her mind, she thought she heard footsteps her way, but wrote it off as possible hallucinations until she heard, “(Y/N)!”

           She picked her head up, brows furrowing as she looked around her. Finally, she caught sight of a familiar coat of blue and white coming her way rather quickly. Okay, now I’m really hallucinating.

           Connor slid to a stop in front of her, his hands coming to cup her cheeks. They were so warm that they burned; a whine left her throat. “(Y/N), I have been looking everywhere for you.”

           (Y/N) nodded weakly. “The dog ran off…was trying to…find it.” her words had started slurring and through her heavy-lidded gaze, she could see panic setting onto Connor’s face.

           He pulled the leather bag off his back and opened it, pulling out a leather coat. Getting to work, he moved (Y/N)’s arms, settling it on her. The sleeves were fur lined and she sighed audibly.

           He stared at her. “Do you think you can you stand?”

           (Y/N) shook her head, or at least that’s what she thought she did. “No…no I don’t…think so.”

           Connor immediately put his arm around her back, the other going under her legs. He picked her up and she found herself pressed up against his chest. (Y/N) rested her head on his shoulder, her face pressed close to his neck. He was so warm compared to her.

           “(Y/N)? Are you awake?”

           She moaned lowly, pressing her face to his skin. He twitched slightly at how chilled her lips were.

           “I need you to try and stay awake. Can you do that?”

           Wanting to laugh, but not capable, she let out a huff. “Keep me…awake.”

           His chest rumbled and she felt it. “I made something with those pelts.”

           “Mhm?” she mumbled.

           “I made this jacket and lined it with the wolf fur.”

           “So that’s why…it’s so warm.”

           Connor nodded. “I made it for you.”

           “For me?”

           “You talked about the presents on…” he went silent.

           “Christ…mas?”

           “Yes, that. You said you exchanged gifts with the ones you love on that day.” His grip tightened. “I was going to give it to you then.”

           (Y/N) felt a smile on her lips. “I guess…I got it…early then.” She hummed. “Any other…gifts?”

           “I made you a knife.”

           That actually cleared up her mind a bit. “…What?”

           Connor snorted. “You said it would be nice to have one a week earlier when I returned with the antlers and hides.”

           “Ratonhnhaké:ton…I meant for you.”

           “Oh…I see.”

           She let out a long sigh. “But I still…want it.”

           “That’s good.” She knew he was smiling again. He shook her gently. “We’re almost back to the homestead, (Y/N). Stay awake a little longer.”

           “‘m cold.” She muttered.

           “I know you are.” He grunted, stepping over a fallen log. “Once we get back, you can curl up in front of the fireplace.”

           “Yours.” (Y/N) mumbled against his neck.

           “…Mine?”

           She nodded. “Wanna be…with you.”

           Connor went silent a moment, then he whispered, “Do you care for me, (Y/N)?”

           She didn’t trust herself to say anything, so she simply nodded and hummed.

           “I…care for you too.”

           A lazy grin worked onto her lips and Connor could feel it. “I’m…glad.” (Y/N) sighed. “Thank you…for finding me, Ratonhnhaké:ton.”

           “Always, (Y/N).”

#connor kenway x reader #connor kenway x reader imagine #connor kenway x reader imagines #connor kenway imagine #connor kenway imagines #connor kenway #ac3 #ac3 imagine #ac3 imagines #assassins creed imagine #assassins creed imagines #assassins creed 3 #assassins creed 3 imagines #assassins creed 3 imagine #ac imagines #ac imagine #achilles davenport

[adam-forevermore]

Name: Adam Marais Age: 25 District: 5 Magic: Mundus Occupation: Mayor's Assistant Opinion on the Games: Against

Strengths: Cunning, Strength Weaknesses: Lack of Agility, Weapon Weakness (Long-distance and throwables)

Biography: 

TW Implied child abuse/grooming

There is a folder on Adam’s desk in the Mayor’s office that contains the names of all of the children in his District that have taken tessarae. 

Familiar names. Names of families he grew up beside, children he helped watch while their parents brought in the harvest or took care of the livestock. It was his job to deliver that list to the Peacemakers, receive the shipments, and distribute them once again. The Peacemakers offer to handle the deliveries, but the less interaction between them and the people, the better. Besides, Adam needs to do it. Needs to see the quiet devastation and relief warring inside the eyes of the parents as he brings the bags of grain and dried meats to their door. It allows him to, when he can, sneak some of the food from his own home into the bags (never enough, it’s never enough to help, only enough that he won’t be found out).

It reminds him of the gravity of his position.

His own name is not on that list.

His mother, the Mayor, would never allow it, and besides, why would he need to? He’s one of the few men in the district whose muscles don’t cling to his bones with malnutrition. His hair is thick and healthy instead of stringy and thin. His cheeks are flushed instead of sallow. When he has known hunger, it has been brief. When he stands with the other young adults on Reaping Day, it is with the knowledge that it is the one day of the year he truly fears for his life.

His mother forgets, he thinks. The responsibility they share. The lives they have to at least try and protect, even if the Capitol keeps their hands tightly bound. 

(She spends too much time with her eyes on the horizon, searching for that distant utopia, trying to find her own way in. His fairy godmother, a former Capitol stylist, spends far too many days in their parlor regaling her with tales of the splendor and luxury of her home. Of what waits for Adam and his mother if they have patience. Her hand lingers too long on Adam’s shoulder, drifting down his back. She looks at him like she’s waiting to devour him.)

It is this thought that follows him when his name is called on the last possible year he can be reaped. He has responsibilities. There are three other lives from his district, his home, that are at risk.

There are thousands of lives at risk, from the Capitol and from his mother’s own negligence, if he doesn’t come home.

It is this thought that follows him when he steps onto the train to take him to the Capitol. He has responsibilities. Does he fight to save the lives of the people on the train with him, or fight to return to the district that needs him?

No matter the cost.

Specialty: 

Adam walks into the dimly-lit room with an easy, measured gait. His smile hangs warmly on his lips, his face freshly shaven and eyes subtly lined with kohl by District 5’s stylist. Not too much to be noticeable from the high tables where the Gamemakers sit, just enough that even in the dim lighting, his piercing blue eyes are impossible to miss.

He’s a politician’s son. He has negotiated before. 

(He’s never been the bargaining chip before.)

There are four props all lined up on the floor in front of him, having been carted in and placed there by several Avox working together, and Adam strips off his jacket as he approaches the first. Two iron disks lie on the floor, and he picks them both up easily. They have some heft to them, but not enough to be a struggle. Turning to face the far wall, making sure his audience has a chance to see the bunched muscles in his arms and shoulders, Adam takes the first disk in his right hand. 

He spins carefully twice, arm outstretched, before letting the disk fly towards the wall. He hadn’t requested a target -- he, Ren, and Dodger all agree his aim is abysmal. All he has to do is make it to the foam mat nearly twenty paces away. He does, with ease, with both the first and second disc. 

An Avox comes and collects the disks quickly while Adam grabs the next prop. 

This one is a metal ball, made of the same heavy iron. Half the size of his head, it still looks small in his sure grip, and he can hear whispers and giggles from the tables (one particularly familiar titter of laughter makes his stomach go tight with something heavy and acidic that he has never been able to fully recognize). He retakes his position on the floor, and with one sure movement, lobs the ball one-handed over to the foam mat. It makes a heavier sound when it hits the ground, and the Avox that comes to take it away has to use two hands to carry it.

The third item is a long metal hammer with a loop on the end. Also iron. Adam picks it up, and for the first time since he began his show, looks to the shadowed Gamemakers with a smile as he swings it onto his shoulder. He feels the shock of the impact against his skin -- glistening a little with sweat, his tan from occasionally helping in the fields smoothed out by the stylists to an even, golden glow -- and it helps to center him again. He steps further back from the mat this time, and when he swings the hammer down he holds the loop with two hands. He spins again, turning with careful steps to build up momentum, the hammer lifting out from his body, and when he lets the hammer go it arcs through the air as if it weighs nothing at all.

When it hits the mat it is with a loud ‘BAM!’, even with the foam doing its best to soften the fall.

Adam wipes the back of his hand across his forehead, only a little sweat dampening his temples. He makes the move look easy, unthinking, as he pushes his hair from his face and approaches the last prop. The last argument in his negotiation.

It is a tree trunk, bark still intact even if most of the branches have been carefully cut away. It looks as if it was pulled from the forest not an hour ago, and for all Adam knows, it could have been. After the two Avox have carefully and haltingly carried the hammer out of the way -- another part of the show, even if they don’t know it -- Adam wraps his arms under the tree trunk and lifts. He makes sure his form is perfect, and his grunt of effort comes out more as a growl. With a push, the truck that is just a little longer than he is tall, and about the same width as his hips, is braced across his shoulders. He walks to the starting point once again, his steps just as easy and casual as when he walked into the room, and with a deep breath, Adam crosses the room himself with the heavy load braced across his shoulders.

It takes almost no time at all, no more than a minute, and he doesn’t shake. His legs and arms are steady. His eyes, lined in kohl that has not budged at all since he began, staring intensely forward to his goal. The toes of his boats bump against the foam mat, and Adam stops; taking a deep breath and preparing for the final motion. Bracing himself, Adam lifts the tree trunk off his shoulders, and with another growl of effort, tosses it over his head and onto the mat. The sound of the tree trunk hitting the floor is even louder than the hammer, and it rings off the walls as Adam rolls his shoulders back and rocks his head from side to side slowly, working out the tension there.

With his performance done, Adam turns to the Gamemakers with that warm smile he walked in with, looking a little abashed as if he isn’t used to showing off, and takes a bow. He goes to collect his jacket and takes one more look up in the direction he heard the familiar tittering before. He gives that portion of the room a slightly wider, boyish smile, bows his head once more, and leaves with his jacket in hand. 

#bhgbio #bhg #//the specialty is just Adam Goes To The Olympics And Is Wearing A Tank Top #//also 25 is technically before he was cursed so

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs “Behind Bars”

WARNING: VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

Guys This is the beginning of an interesting new mini series that may deal with some pretty heavy stuff since it takes place in a human prison. If you think there is ANY chance you could be bothered or offended by the topics I might cover, than now is a good time not to read this. I am not going to go through and make a list of all the potential things you may not like, so I deffer to your own judgement of yourself to determine what is good for you.

Also another little side note, the way I portray law enforcement in this is in no way how I feel about them. I have close family member in law enforcement and respect the hell out of them, but the way I did it was done to serve the story, so just keep that in mind. 

For those of you who choose to read it, I hope it’s interesting :) 

“Gah, this place is a dump.” 

“Yeah, just be glad you can’t smell it.”

“Why is that?”

“Urine, lots and lots of urine.”

“Ah, lovely.” Krill muttered making his next movements very tender against the dark clattering metal as if he could avoid stepping in anything unsavory. Beside him, a rather scruffy human appeared from the shadows, “scruffy” with an overgrown haircut, five o-clock shadow, eyepatch and an army jacket that had seen better days.

Commander Vir blended in surprisingly well with the grungy understreets of noctropolis. The city was Less of a city, and more like a series of tunnels bridges and rickety buildings built on and into the side of a cavernous rift in the ground. Once upon a time, the Tesraki had begun serious mining operations on the border moon’s surface causing some serious scars in the landscape which was then filled with the teaming underground life that the most unsavory humans bring with them. 

Noctopolis was located on the furthest edge of the Milky Way galaxy, and seeing as the GA was based out of Andromeda, it was a very difficult moon to police. The UNSC had attempted to take over operations on the moon but had found only limited success considering their military had only been operating in space for the past few years. They didn’t have enough manpower to undergo such an operation, so the moon itself was left mostly unpoliced. Since then it had become home to the most unsavory of the Tesraki, the Drev, and the humans having enough economically or emotionally in common that they at least tolerated each other. 

What understanding they had of the border moon had begun with the banning of interspecies relationships almost a year past. Since Noctopolis wasn’t particularly well policed, may counter culture groups had made their home here. While many of them were decent people attempting a little privacy away from the eyes of the law, other less savory groups had taken an opportunity to stake their claim.

The streets about them were littered with trash and abandoned cardboard and metal scraps. Their greatest source of light leaked down from the lively redlight district above, not only called that because of what it offered, but because it actually did bost a series of bright neon lights that could be seen across the city.

“Wanna tell me why I’m here again. This is kind of a Sunny and Vir thing.”

Commander Vir propped himself casually up against a wall slouching inside his jacket collar turned up against the sour wind blowing up from the cavern vanishing into darkness below, “Sunny had to finish requisitioning our new weapons system, besides, i thought it was about time you and I hung out. We haven't done anything together as friends in a while.” 

“Ah yes, just how I prefer social bonding, Loitering through piss covered streets with an eyeless legless hobo.”

“Rude.” The human muttered glancing quickly around a corner.

Krill let the question drop instead moving onto the next topic of conversation, “Wanna tell me why we aren’t working with local law enforcement?”

The human dodged past a leaking pipe and the resulting black puddle, “Well there are a few reasons. If I plan on getting close to this drug ring, or even the suppliers, I can't have the smell of the feds one me, second is that the policing system here is only partially overseen by the UN, mostly they supply their own officers and their own laws. There are serious rumors about law enforcement corruption, but that can be expected considering the kind of people that hang out here. And then there is the issue of ease of access to fingerprinting and DNA systems. Mine have been temporarily removed from the system for this operation because the dealers tend to check before the sell, but if i was working with local law enforcement my identity might be leaked.”

Together they stepped onto one of the rickety bridges spanning the cavern. Krill tried not to look down into the gaping bottomless chasm spanning downwards into darkness tinted with the red haze cast from the neon reflection of the city.

“Why is this such a big deal anyway. Why waste you on a project like this.”

Commander Vir stepped off the edge of the bridge holding it steady for Krill as he followed.

“Because this guys are linked to the human hormone market.” Krill was a bit surprised. He had heard about the issue months ago. Certain species, the Tesraki and the Drev especially had neurotransmitter systems similar to that of a human, though somewhat dampened and were affected by the use of injected dopamine and adrenaline. On the street they had taken names like Dopie, Daddy, Addie, Joy Juice, and some other strange names. The biggest issue with the use of human chemicals as drugs is that even a single dose of the stuff could fry the circuits for any nonhuman taken in any sort of significant dose. In humans it occasionally meant sickness or even mental illness, but in aliens it could mean permanent flat affect or the inability to feel fear. The other issue was how the dealers got it, usually it involved kidnapping and harvesting the chemicals from humans, since many times the analogue drugs humans made for themselves didn't have an effect on aliens.

Krill shivered at the thought, and stepped through a tight alleyway just ahead of the Commander, who had to turn sideways to fit through the narrow space. He didn’t like fieldwork, at all, but having a human with you was one way to make you feel safe. The only creature that a human might not be able to fight off was a Drev, but even then there was still a possibility.

Together they cut across another street and towards their destination. They had managed to squeeze some information from the only informant still alive on the street, and that had been an address. At the back of the property they found a door padlocked shut though it had recently been cut.

Commander Vir held open the door and shoved inwards leading them into a long, dark hallway lined with debris. Krill stayed behind him as they made their way into the darkness jumping at every sound.

Ahead of him, the commander had removed an energy pistol from the band of his pants. Krill didn’t bother to point out to him, that it was difficult to believe he wasn’t law enforcement when he handled a weapon like that.

He held Krill back and then nudged one of the doors inward clearing the room with a quick sweep from corner to corner even stepping out to check behind the door. Krill peered in as the Commander grunted, “Just what we were looking for.”

Krill peered around his legs and then paused, “Uh….” The room was filled from floor to ceiling with strange glowing tanks of liquid a pale greenish in color. The ambient light gave the room a rather eerie glow. A glow that highlighted the strange instruments and free floating tubes with sinister intent. Nothing was currently in the tanks, but Krill shivered knowing what they would have held if they had been filled.

Human bodies.

The tanks cast much of the room into shadow, and Commander Vir took cover crouching behind one of the tank consoles. Krill followed him taking cover behind the human’s back. He didn't see what the man was so worried about there was one here. The human tilted his head listening intently scanning around the room. Krill was just beginning to speak when the man pushed him back hissing, “RUN!”

But before he could even take a step in another direction, he saw a flicker at the side of the room, and commander vir was lit up with at least ten points of green light all trained on his chest.

“GET ON THE GROUND.”

“PUT YOUR HANDS UP.”

“DROP THE GUN.”

“DON’T MOVE.”

Commander Vir reacted while Krill was still on the floor standing from behind his cover and stepping into the room. The Energy pistol clattered to the floor as he held his hands out to his sides.

“GET ON THE GROUND!”

Lights flashed all around them, and the room was illuminated by a painful burst of light and an eruption of movement. Men appeared from nowhere dressed in black tactical gear, faces and eyes completely obscured. Commander Vir was thrown face first onto the floor with at least three kneeling on his back.

Two came after Krill who squealed, to high pitched to be heard by the humans.

“GIVE US YOUR HAND!”

“GAH! Yes, yes just stop pulling and I will!. Shit…. I’m lying on it, let me up for a- OUCH!” From where he was being pinned to a wall, krill heard the ratcheting of handcuffs momentarily surprised not to hear the initiation of energy restraints.

“Shit, that's really tight…. Ahh… I can’t feel my hands.”

“STOP RESISTING.”

“I'M NOT RESISTING, I HAVE A PROSTHETIC AND YOUR STEPPING ON IT!”  That didn’t do him much good as Krill heard the sharp thud, crack of someone being hit over the head. Krill understood what the captain meant about NOT being policed by the UN. Krill had meat peace officers on earth before, and while they could act the same, they generally had reason be reasonable to them and they would probably be polite to you.

Commander Vir was dragged to his feet hands wrenched painfully behind his back and pinned against the wall as they searched him, “Anything on you gonna poke me or stick me.”

“No, no.”

“You got ID?”

Commander Vir paused, “I…. well no.” One of the other officers ran a scanning device over his body, but it beeped negative.

“No implants.” Krill cursed internally…. They should have thought about that when they temporarily cancelled his ID….

“No ID, you know that’s illegal, don’t you.” The one officer said, sticking his hand into another pocket.

“I can explain. I work WITH you guys I-”

“No badge, no ID ... and ah, what is this.” Krill felt his heart sink as he watched the man pull the Adrenaline and dopamine sample from the Commander’s pocket. He held it up in front of the Commander's face, “And what is this.”

“That…. Isn’t mine.” He said lamely

The man pulled down the front of his mask one eyebrow raised, “Ah not yours eh…. Let me guess these are your friends pants, and you’re just borrowing them. You had no idea they were there. Oh oh, I know, you were just delivering them for a friend you don’t know what they actually are.” He reached into another pocket, “Oh and what is this.” Commander Vir groaned and leaned his head against the wall.

The small baggie of white powder was held up before him, “What is this gonna be, Cocaine, Meth, Heroine. You been trading a little Addie for a fix.”

In fact they actually HAD traded the drugs for information, along with a tracking device. Humans can’t use dopamine and adrenaline like other species can, so they traded it for the classic stuff.

“You can test me, I’m not high, I’m not a drug addict, I am also not who you think I am.”

“And who are you?” 

“My name is Commander Adam Vir with the UNSC. I was sent here to HELP.”

They did not seem in any way convinced, “You have proof of that “Commander”. Look I saw the guy once, and he wasn’t half as fugly as you, also he was taller.”

Commander Vir yelped in indignation as they began patting him down for the second time, “Who you calling fugly you-” He bit his tongue, “I’m sorry OFFICER but I had my implants discontinued for this operation. Just look at me I’m missing an eye and a leg and im 6,2 just like the man you say I’m not, and I also let my hair grow out. GIve me five minutes on the phone and I’ll call my superiors for you.” 

“Uh huh, because they’d have the fleet commander down here crawling through the dirt after narcos and tweakers. This is the army officers sit behind their nice shiny desks and let other men die for them.” Commander Vir was pulled away from the wall, “What are you his junki cousin, a brother?”

“I told you who I am.”

“Someone check the bug, see if he has ID.”

Krill stiffened as a wand was run over him, “Nothing sir. That’s strange, usually don’t see their kind around here.”

“I get my phone call, don’t I.”

“What do you think this is the 2000s. The hormone crisis is a level 5 threat, and we are not obligated to provide you with anything.”

“I'm pretty sure I still get a lawyer.” 

Commander Vir was hauled to his feet and marched bodily towards the door, “Yeah but you'll have to get one flown in unless you want a Tesraki, and I wouldn't trust one of those bastards as far as I can throw them…. Uh disgusting little bats.”  Commander Vir seemed almost irked at the use of the slur. Humans had a habit of that, they had a slur for each of other species weather it be bug, beetle, bat, dino, or just the general use of the word freak.

They were dragged outside, and around to where the vehicles had been hidden. Commander tripped more than once over the cheap prosthetic he had used to augment his look, and every time he was dragged painfully back to his feet. Krill wasn’t treated much better though he only received one of the human officers. Krill were thrown in the back of a cruiser with bars and energy shields over the windows. Commander Vir was thrown against the front of the vehicle, “As of now, you'll be charged with the possession of illegal substance, intent to sell, failure to identify, unlawful possession of a firearm, and resisting arrest.”

“What! I didn’t resist, and I DID identify myself. It’s not my fault you won’t believe me.”

“Someone get a spit shield on him.”

“What, I.” He was pinned even more forcibly against the hood as a female officer secured, a GA issued muzzle over his face. They had developed those after realizing what human spit could do to certain species, and what the human voice could do to others. Once on, The officer flipped the dial, cutting off the Commander mid protest. 

Once done, he was thrown into the back with Krill gagged and restrained. Kril felt as if he was going to pass out, or just go right ahead and die. They had been captured by human authorities that even Commander Vir couldn’t talk down, and the ones that weren’t nearly as understanding as they were on earth. 

Things could only get worse.

#humans are insane #HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humans are spaceoddities #earth is a deathworld #Earth is space Ausralia

[diddlesanddoodles]

DUMPLING ch 45

Connar had been kind enough to let her use his satchel to carry and conceal her new belt and vambraces. Her mother did not give it much more than a glance when she finally arrived in their room. Lolly was there too and it did not escape Nenani’s notice that both of them looked strangely nervous.

Lolly did not say anything as she helped Nenani into her dress for the final check and though Nenani felt justified in her earlier conversations with Lolly, she could not entirely ignore the feelings of guilt. Lolly had been endlessly kind to her ever since she had first arrived in Vhasshal and to see the Matron so stiff and fidgety and secretive...it worried Nenani. Her mother on the other hand, Nenani was beginning to understand that there was a lot that she had and would keep from her daughter. But for Lolly to follow suit...

Just as she played with the idea of apologizing, just to clear the air, there came a soft knock at the door and before anyone could answer, a male servant pressed into the room. Lolly turned away from adjusting one of the sleeves, eyeing the man distastefully, before asking, “State your business, sir.”

The man met Lolly’s cool gaze unfettered and replied in a formal and poised manner, “Her majesty Queen Rosanna.”

Lolly jerked to attention and stepped to one side, taking up a formal position with her head bowed low. Her mother hopped down off of the window sill to stand alongside Nenani just as a figure dressed in a blushing pink silk dress slipped into the room. The Queen was picturesque in her posture; demure and soft but her eyes were sharp with intelligence. They reminded Nenani of Farris’s eyes in a lot of ways, but instead of vibrant green, they were a dusty hazel. Lolly dipped into a deep curtsy with a low greeting of, “You’re Majesty.”

Her mother did not curtsy, however, and merely bowed her head slightly. Nenani, suddenly struck with the realization that she did not know which to do, instead made an awkward sort of hybrid of the two, but it was ungraceful and clunky and did not go unnoticed. The Queen’s eyes fell upon her and clicked her tongue. “That won’t do, Princess. Such blunders of decorum may fall upon kinder eyes within these chambers, but I assure you, the Lords will take note and it won’t do at all for your first impression to be that of a manner-less child.” She nodded to the man servant, a clear invitation for him to leave, and after the door shut behind him, Rosanna turned her attention back to Nenani. “Now, you noticed how your mother greeted me? That is because we are social equals. Her standing matches my own, but as she is a guest in my home, she shows me respect with a slight head bow. Matron Lolly, as a head servant, shows greater deference by lowering herself further into a deep curtsy with her head bowed.”

Rosanna walked up to the side table where both Nenani and Oira stood. “For you, Princess, the appropriate greeting is a slight curtsy with your head bowed. Not nearly so far as Lolly, though dear. Now, try again.”

Silently, Nenani did as she was bade. But the Queen only frowned. “Again. Keep your back straight as you dip. And keep your hands folded in front of you.”

It took seven more attempts before Rosanna was satisfied and she smiled. “Good. Now, at the dinner, should a Lord approach you and you wish to acknowledge him, you merely bow your head as your mother did. The Lords are of lower rank and should never be kowtowed to by a member of royal blood.” She paused and then added with a small grin. “In many other matters as well.”

Beside her, Oira snickered, but quickly pulled her face back into neutral placidity.

“With that all said, however,” Rosanna began, now with a genuine smile upon her face, “I must say, Matron Lolly. You and your girls have done a commendable job with her gown. The Princess looks enchanting.”

Lolly allowed herself a smile and dipped back into a bow. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“But we shall have to do something with her hair,” the Queen added, putting a finger to her lips and seemed to consider the little girl. “I have a few ideas. I don’t suppose we have any hair trinkets small enough for her? Emeralds would look splendid in such red hair.”

“There’s a few pieces we’ve found in storage that might do, but I will need to check and see if any of them are emeralds, milady.”

“Go and see what you can find. I’d like for this all to be ready and settled before tomorrow night. I suspect nerves shall make us forgetful in the moment and I won’t have an overlooked detail spoil the evening.”

With another low bow, Lolly exited the room. The Queen turned to Oira and said, “I wanted to come speak to you both beforehand in any case. It occurred to me earlier today that we have not discussed with the Princess just what it is we are aiming to accomplish with this dinner. I would hate to have her be presented to the court without all the proper facilities at her disposal and be left at a disadvantage. If the Lords sense any weakness, they will pounce.”

“In truth, Your Highness,” Oira replied. “I had hoped to not have to burden her with politics.”

“Politics?” echoed Rosanna with a mild frown. “My dear Annie, we speak of the welfare and future of your people. Not mere politics. If you are ever to wear the crown, you must be able to hold your head high. The weight is a great one as I am sure you know. Warren has great faith in your ability to take this mantle. You must also trust your daughter as well. It may very well be hers one day. If our goals are achieved.”

Nenani looked between her mother and the Queen, that uneasy feeling in her belly returning. “What...what is it that I need to know?”

The Queen looked to Nenani and then back to Oira with a meaningful eye. Oira drew in a long breath and turned to Nenani. “Since coming here, King Warren has been telling me about his efforts to cultivate a safe haven for our people. That and all that he and his men have been doing to bring others out of danger. In many respects, the Hill Tribe is a resounding success. But there are only three hundred or so humans living there. A mere fraction of what Silvaara’s population was at the outbreak of the war and so many more of our people are still struggling out in the wilds; being hunted and harvested by those who flaunt his Majesty’s laws and mandates. Or worse, languish in captivity awaiting a gruesome fate. So...Warren put it to me that it might be...that we could...that we could, with the Crown’s help and investment from the Lords...rebuild Silvaara.”

Nenani stared.

Though she could not grasp the true weight of her mother’s words, she was smart enough to understand the gravity of the task they had set before themselves. All the stories he had been told of the war, the absolute destruction of Silvaara, and the scattering of its people. “And you...you would become Queen?”

Her mother’s eyes looked sad for a moment before a steely haze came over her and she nodded. “Never would I have thought that I would ever wear the crown.”

“Such sentiments that both you and my husband share, dear Annie,” Rosanna replied softly. “He never thought he would be King. But the war has swept the field for both of you.”

“I thought you didn’t want to be Queen,” Nenani asked, recalling how vehemently she had professed to Keral that she was not Queen when he merely suggested it indirectly.

“I didn’t,” Oira admitted. “And I don’t have a care admitting that I have very little faith that I am up to this task. I told Warren he was mad for thinking it was possible. To rebuild Silvaara. But the more we spoke and the more he showed me...the less I could ignore what’s been staring at me in the face for all these years and that I had just...couldn’t bring myself to see it. Until now…

“With an empty throne, there is no hope for our people. My people. And what’s more...I cannot ignore the quiet genocide still raging. Families ripped apart, men slaughtered, children sold to meat markets, woman chained up and forced into the life of brooding mares.” She took a deep breath as a tears rolled down her face. “And when I met the Hill Tribe leaders...they looked to me as though…” She sighed and wiped her cheeks. “It will not be easy. Even if we succeed tomorrow night, there is no telling how long it will take. And there is still him to consider...it will put me even more at odds with Aidus that I ever was before. He’s always sought a way to the throne. If I declare myself Queen, it may antagonize him into attacking. He’s been quiet still and Maevis has made tremendous progress with his lanterns and spells, but…

“Before we can do anything, Aidus must be stopped. He poses as much a danger to the people as any scheming Vhasshalan. We will never be safe until he is brought to justice. But I know him. He will be the first to move his piece in this game. In the meantime, however, I do not intent to cower in the shadows anymore. When he comes, I will be ready. And I will bring down upon him such a vengeance that there will be nothing of him left to scatter but ashes.”

Nenani did not recognize the woman standing before her as her mother. Her mother, who always seemed timid and jumped at every shadow, who hide the scars of her long captivity, and who trembled at the mere muttering of Aidus’s name. Her mother was now all at once a tall standing woman with steel in her eyes and a command to her voice that Nenani have never heard. Where had this woman come from? She was resolute and firm and not anything like she knew her mother to be. She…

She looked like a Queen.

All at once, Nenani realized how incredibly selfish she had been. How her only thoughts about being a Princess was the fear that somehow it would take her away from the family she had found within Vhasshal. After so long being alone and finding a place all her own, it terrified her to her core that she would have to leave it. That her birthright would be nothing but an ever growing divide between herself and those she loved and then she would find herself alone once more.

But it wasn’t that at all, she realized with a growing sense of wonder. It was a duty. Her duty.

Nenani’s eye caught the Connar’s leather satchel and her dagger laying on her bed. She stared at the thorn guard crest upon the dagger’s sheath and Nonna’s words came to the forefront of her mind. “Not everyone shares the same view as to just what it means to uphold one’s duty. It is a hard line to walk. And one you must be prepared for if you ever want to take the oath yourself.”

She looked into her mother’s eyes, meeting the hard steel of them with her own and said, “I want to help.”

…………………………………………..

They were all gathered in the King’s study at a small round table to take supper together and discuss the following night’s event and to strategize. Upon the table was a raise platform that served as a human sized table, bringing all company to a near equal standing. Or rather, sitting. Complete with linen and fine china, the spread included plates and platters of food – all human portions. Nenani had seen the kitchens prepare human portioned food before, Saen was normally the one to do it since he was the best at cutting meat very thinly, but to find herself on the receiving end of that work felt a bit strange. She was much more accustomed to a simple ramekin of stew and a hunk of bread. Not slices of venison steak with peppercorn sauce or milk and herb poached trout. Or the various sweet meats and pies. She made a mental note to let Saen know just how well his hard work presented itself.

“If we present it as an investment opportunity, they’ll take to the idea much better than if we were after mere charity,” Warren explained. On his right sat Queen Rosanna, back straight and delicately sipping at spoonfuls of a clear yellow broth. In contract, Jae sat to Warren’s right and was enthusiastically digging into his plate of food and ignoring the occasional critical glances Rosanna sent his way.

“Jae dear,” Rosanna said lightly, finally giving into her urge to correct her step-son’s posture, “Please sit up straight. You’re not a goblin.”

Jae paused, eyes narrowing ever so slightly, but he obediently straightened up and began to chew with a deliberate slowness.  

“A great many of the Lords are businessmen and they think in terms of expenditures and risk and mitigated loss,” the King continued, only sending a glance towards Jae; the edges of his mouth curling ever so slightly in a stifled grin. “That, I believe will be our best avenue of attack.”

When Jae reached over the table to stab a piece of meat with his fork instead of using the serving tongs, Rosanna made a face and opened her mouth as though to critique him once more, but Warren placed a calming hand on her arm and gave her a look as though to say ‘leave him be’. She returned her husband’s look with a reluctant nod and she returned to sipping her broth, but her mouth was a thin line. Manners, it seemed, were a very big deal to the Queen and Nenani tried to mimic her so as not incur her critiques that Jae so nonchalantly shrugged off.  

“So then,” Jae asked, stilling chewing as he picked up his cup filled with lime flower tea. “How much does it cost to rebuild a kingdom from the ground up?”

He swallowed and winced against the flavor of the tea. He’d been instructed to drink the entire thing before he would be allowed anything else to drink and he had managed through the first half without much complaint.

“We’re seeking an initial sum of twenty thousand,” Warren replied and Jae nearly choked on his next sip of tea, spitting some of it across the table. When he went to wipe his mouth with his sleeve, Queen Rosanna loudly cleared her throat.

“Use your napkin, Jae dear,” she said, regarding him a single eye. Jae bit his lip, reaching for the napkin across his lap, and dutifully cleaned his face.

“And most of that would be setting the farmers up with what they need to establish the fields and get the wheat crop into the ground,” Oira added. “Even with all of the Lords full support, it’ll be at least two years before enough infrastructure is established to allow mass re-population.”

“Why the farms first?” Nenani asked.

“Armies march on bread and Kingdoms are built on it,” her mother replied. “Without a stable and reliable source of food, any rebuilding efforts would be useless.”

“The Hill Tribe has been very successful with growing wheat,” Warred remarked after taking a drink from his wine goblet. “We almost exclusively use the flour from that crop here in the castle.”

Nenani blinked. “Really? So all the bread Quinn and Kol make uses flour from the Hill Tribe?”

“Yep,” Jae answered. “Farris is gonna hate it when he starts having to import flour in a few years because everyone growing the wheat all moved back to Silvaara.”

“I’m sure we will find suitable substitutes in Vhasshal,” Warren said.

Jae smirked back at him. “You weren’t there to hear Quinn and Kol pitch a fit when the orders got messed up last month and they had to use all that flour from the Timberbrook mills.”

Nenani giggled. “Was that what they were so angry about?”

Jae nodded. “Yep. I guess human milled flour is a lot finer.”

“I must admit,” Rosanna added. “The bread that comes from the kitchens is quite spectacular. And I do believe the quality of the flour does play a part. We might even be able to use that as a point of possible investment.”

“Give us money so we can keep making good bread,” Jae said with a grin and for the first time, Nenani saw the Queen smile at him.  

“I think I may write to my sister as well,” Rosanna added. “Her brother in law is a merchant who trades with the Iatis Empire. Perhaps we could even secure a revenue stream elsewhere through exports.”

Nenani felt lost in the conversation, not knowing a thing about streams of revenue, investing, or the trading terms of Ibronia and the Iatis Empire. The only thing she really knew about Iatis was all the threats Beastmen would make about putting her in chains and selling her to the empire as a slave. Whether that was true or just an empty threat, she did not know. So for the time being, she contented herself with good food and merely listening.

“It may even spark a bit of friendly business competition,” Rosanna continued. “If I remember correctly, I believe Lord Colem does business with Iatis. What was it again…spices?”

“Indigo,” Jae answered. “His whole estate is covered in indigo flowers. Which makes me wonder why he always wears that hideous yellow coat.”

Rosanna stifled a grin and masked it further by delicately wiping her mouth with a napkin. “It is a rather unsightly thing, isn’t it?”

“Looks like it could come to life and start crawling away…” Jae said and drained the rest of his tea.

Despite herself, Rosanna let lose a rather undignified snort of laughter, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment, but that seemed to set the table into a fit of light laughter.

“I’m never going to remember all of these names,” Nenani said staring into her cup of milk. She had been given a cup of something called hippocras, but found the flavor a bit too strong. It was made from a very young wine watered down and then stewed with spices and sugar. Now that Jae had finished his lime flower tea, he was drinking his own cup of hippocras rather enthusiastically.  

“Don’t worry,” Jae told her after setting his cup back down. “Just stick with me and I’ll point everyone out. I already promised Donal I’d be your escort anyway. He was going to make you sit down and memorize everyone’s names, but I managed to convince him otherwise.”

She smiled at him gratefully, internally balking at the idea of having to remember so many names and titles. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied and then regarded her with an easy smirk. “Even though you locked me out on the roof.”

Nenani frowned into her cup and hunched her shoulders.  

“What now?” Warren asked, looking to Jae with one brow raised.

“Oh, yeah,” Jae said, grinning widely. “That day I was late to that meeting with Donal? It’s ‘cause Nenani locked the window on me and I had to break into Keral’s room just to get back inside.”

Feeling distinctly warm, Nenani kept her eyes glued onto the table and slowly started to sink into her chair. Her mother was looking at her oddly.

“Why would you lock him out?” she asked.

Nenani mumbled something under her breath, her face disappearing below the table top. Her mother laughed and patted her arm. “Sit up, Nenani. Come on now.”

“I was teasing her,” Jae said, still looking far too amused.

“That’s not very gentleman-like, Jae,” Warren reprimanded, but he too had a look of humor about him. Rosanna for her part, did not appear all that surprised.  

“I did apologize,” Jae countered.

“Sounds to me as though she was entirely within her right,” the King laughed. “You’re lucky she only locked the window. She could have set you on fire like Thrist.”

Nenani frowned, looking up to meet the King’s eye and seeing his knowing expression, blushed and started to sink down into her chair again. Jae’s expression of lazy amusement broke and he frowned. “What? When? Where was I when this happened?”

“Probably still on the roof,” Warren quipped and took a sip from his goblet. Beside him, his wife sighed and reached for her own wine.

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

Apologies for the wait on this chapter and the fact that is was a bit shorter than I normally post. 46 is shaping up to be a beast though, so I’ll make it up to you. In the mean time, enjoy a very embarrassed Nenani. 

BONUS ART: 

#Dumpling #g/t #G/t story #Giant/tiny #g/t writing #Nenani #Oira #Ronsanna #Jae #Warren #Lolly

[freudensteins-monster]

The Governess and the Liesmith - Chapter Four

FIC SUMMARY: Sigyn finds herself accepting the position of governess to Prince Loki’s children. She quickly endears herself to them, despite her firm hand, but the closeness and trust she worked so hard for is threatened by the return of the children’s notoriously absent father. RATING: T AUTHORS NOTES: This is the last completed chapter I have and I can't possibly say when the next one will be ready (considering it took me four years to get to this point). If you have any thoughts on what you'd like to see (other than Loki at some point :P), things you'd like Sigyn and the children to do etc, feel free to add them in the comments. Who knows, they might inspire me to be to churn out a few new paragraphs ;) Thanks for the love and the continued support xoxox

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Sigyn heard the children long before she saw them, the group babbling excitedly to each other as they made their way into the nursery. Queen Frigga followed, smiling to herself as her grandchildren immediately made the most of their free time. For Einmyria and Jörmungandr it meant jumping onto their respective beds with a new book on seiðr brought back from their lessons, for the other children it meant playing with dolls and building blocks and, in Eisa’s case, trying to set them on fire without anyone noticing. A raised eyebrow and a stern look from both Sigyn and Queen Frigga stopped her cold but Sigyn knew perfectly well which of the older women her new charge was showing deference to.

“The uniform fits well, I take it,” Queen Frigga noted happily as she gave Sigyn a once over.

“Yes, it fits perfectly, your majesty. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, though I still think I should be thanking you,” she said, her eyes moving over her assembled grandchildren. “It’s no easy task I have assigned you.”

“Perhaps not,” Sigyn conceded. “But I will endeavour to take care of them to the best of my abilities. Whether they like it or not,” she added under her breath, earning an unladylike snort of laughter from her queen.

“I wish you the best of luck,” the queen said before stepping forward to say goodnight to the children. “Please be good for Sigyn,” she added sternly before taking her leave.

Left alone with her new charges, Sigyn did her best to ignore her nerves as she wandered about the room attempting to engage the children in casual conversation hoping to learn more about them. Eisa, Hela, and Fenrir were building a tower out of blocks - a grand castle in their minds, and were playing out mock battles and daring rescues with their toys. Eisa always played the queen (or the enchantress, or the poor scullery maid who was really a princess), Fenrir always played the brave hero (who always had a loyal warwolf at his side), and Hela always played the evil monster who was secretly good (or cursed, or just scared of the hero). She asked Jörmungandr and Einmyria about the books they were reading and the things they learnt with their grandmother, and while Jörmungandr all but ignored her questions claiming she wouldn’t understand, Einmyria became almost as animated as her sister as she recalled the new spell she had learnt and talked at length about the famous witch in her book.

Their conversation had to be tabled when six bells chimed throughout the wing, signaling the arrival of children’s dinner. With slightly less grumbling than there had been at lunch Sigyn managed to get the children to wash up and seated just as the kitchen maids had finished setting the table.

Sigyn thanked the maids as they headed for the door, and after she pointedly cleared her throat at her charges they followed her example. “Thank you!”

The meal was more or less as chaotic as dinner with her own siblings and made Sigyn terribly homesick. If she had known when she had left that morning that she wasn’t going to be returning she would have hugged them all so tightly before she left. With a soft sigh she shook off her feelings of nostalgia and focused on her charges as she made short work of her own meal.

By the time Sigyn had set down her cutlery the children had all but finished too. Fenrir had licked his own plate clean and was now finishing off the meat that Einmyria had pushed to the side of her plate, Eisa had made a paste out of her roasted pumpkin but Sigyn suspected she hadn’t eaten a bite of it, and Hela was grimacing as she bravely tried to finish her green beans.

“All done?” Sigyn asked, putting poor Hela out of her misery. “Then I think it’s bathtime.”

Thirty minutes later five squeaky clean children and one drowned rat of a governess exited the bathroom.

Sigyn instigated quiet time to run out the clock before bedtime. Einmyria and Jörmungandr returned to their books while Eisa and Fenrir huddled on the floor between their two beds with their toys. Hela tugged on Sigyn’s skirts, leading her over to her bed. Sigyn helped the girl up onto her bed and helped her get comfy. Hela patted a space next to her encouraging Sigyn to take a seat next to her. Before Sigyn could ask her what she wanted Hela pulled a well worn book of fairy tales out from under her pillow.

“Would you read me a story?” Hela asked.

Sigyn took the children’s storybook in hand, tentatively opening it to the first page, her eyes stumbling over the title.

“I’m afraid I don’t know my letters very well,” Sigyn confessed quietly, her body tensing as she felt five pairs of eyes staring back at her.

“You can’t read?” Einmyria exclaimed in utter horror, hugging her own book tightly.

“What did you expect?” Jörmungandr snorted. “She’s just a stupid farm girl.”

“I am not stupid,” Sigyn replied coldly. “I know how to shoe a horse, milk a cow, mend clothes, and plow a field. I know when to plant seeds and when to harvest crops. I can hunt game and prepare it for eating. I know how to make bread, cheese, stews, and dozens of other things. Just because I didn’t read about such things in books does not make me stupid.”

Jörmungandr broke eye contact first, burying his nose in his own book. The heavy silence that followed was broken by a curious Fenrir.

"You can really hunt game?"

"Trapping rabbits mostly. Sometimes pheasants.”

"Fenrir caught a rabbit once in wolf form. And ate it raw," Einmyria shook her head in disgust.

"I didn't mean to," Fenrir whined. "It made me sick for a week."

"Well, perhaps next time, once you've caught the rabbit you should turn back into a boy and cook it first."

"You know how to cook rabbit?"

"Of course."

“Can you make biscuits?”

Sigyn had to stifle a laugh. “Of course. I like making ginger snap cookies, but my favourite thing to make is a steamed pudding with homemade raspberry jam.”

“Now I’m hungry again,” Fenrir huffed, burrowing into his blankets.

Sigyn did laugh then but settled down when a small hand touched hers.

“I could read it to you, if you want?” Hela offered nervously, unable to meet Sigyn’s eyes, her fingers picking at the worn edges of the much loved book.

“I would like that very much,” Sigyn replied earnestly, her smile growing wider as Hela moved to give Sigyn space on her bed. “What is the book called?”

“East of the Sun and West of the Moon,” Hela recited slowly, following the words with a small finger as she read them out. She turned the page and pointed to the first sentence. “Do you know what that says?”

“Those words I know,” Sigyn smiled. “Once upon a time.”

Hela nodded in agreement before repeating them and then reading aloud until her eyes grew heavy towards the end of the first chapter. Eight bells chimed and Sigyn marked the page with a ribbon, and Hela was asleep before Sigyn had put the book away. Sigyn tucked her in and then went around the room securing the windows, dimming the lights, tucking the rest of the children in and prying books from more stubborn hands.

“It’s past eight bells, Jörmungandr. Time for bed.”

“I’m not tired,” he grumbled petulantly.

“But you will be tomorrow if you don’t go to sleep now,” Sigyn countered, waiting patiently by his bed until he handed over the heavy book with a long title Sigyn wasn’t even going to attempt to read. “Goodnight,” she said as she exited the room earning a few sleepy ‘goodnights’ and one angry huff in return.

Sigyn closed the nursery doors and then moved to the main doors. There was no lock or barring mechanism that she could see so instead she pulled the doors open and stuck her head out.

“Yes, miss?” an older guard stationed outside the door queried.

“Do they not secure the nursery doors at night?”

“No need, miss. It’s the most secure wing of the castle and only guards handpicked by Odin himself are stationed outside the royal bedchambers at night.”

“Only the most loyal and trustworthy, I take it.”

“Naturally, miss.”

“You can call me Sigyn. And your name would be?”

“Amund, Miss Sigyn,” he teased. “Gunnarr and I are on night duty this month,” he added, nodding to the younger, more serious guard stationed across the way.

“Well met,” Sigyn greeted before turning back to Amund. “The children are abed and I will be turning in shortly as well. You are not to permit entry to anyone until morning.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Miss Sigyn.”

“Goodnight,” Sigyn smiled and pulled the doors closed, checking the nursery door one last time before retreating to her own room. She undressed and hung up her uniform to dry, changing into an old nightgown from home. It was soft in a way that only a garment worn every night for a year could be but it still could not compare to the silky softness of the sheets on her new bed. Sigyn rested her head on the plump pillow and was asleep in seconds.

TAGGING: @storylover92 @marveil @dreamdancer19 @thefangirl33 @anonanonfrances @contains-cinnamon @jackiattacki  @sarabeth72 @hiddlestoncentral @annamegatron @angelus80 @dearmisterhiddles @writernotwaiting @ishoutmarcoandyoushout @hallotom @mrshiddelston  @lolomonster @bellafagoaga1812 @stormieandateacup @beautifullydamned16 @hardtopickausername @lorrmorr @antyc67  @ladyninasayers-ish @ladymirtilla @marvelousmissfit @yoursophiebelle   @xunconquerableheartx @iamwhoidecidetobe @tinaferraldo @larouau12 @hiddles-is-a-fallen-angel @lokilockedcougar @pollution-brown-eyes @loveshiddles4everme @mrsmalcontent @just-call-me-your-darling @inkededucatednnerdy @vampire-marie @whenweareallalone @captain-biryani @larouau12 @sweetsigyn @scarlettsoldier @mypreciousmind1 @wonderinthewoods @thecrownedrose @ohbvcks @echantedbytwh @omninocte @texmexdarling

#the governess and the liesmith #loki/sigyn #logyn #loki #sigyn #loki's kids #freudensteins-fics

[feastofcadavers]

"So... I know you like your sciences... but which one?" Mint was happy with the situation at hand was progressing. The two of them were talking for such a short time, but it was nice to see Aloe contented. Sure, they weren't smiling or anything, but at least they weren't grimacing or scoffing at his words as they usually did. "Well... I typically have kept myself in the realms of biology, though I have more skills in psychology due to past experiences..." Ah, 'past experiences'? Mint hesitated to press on this topic, but... He supposes curiosity got the best of him in this regard. "So what did spur you into taking up psychology?"

A single glare got him to shrink back in his seat. Right. Never ask about the past. "We are staying here and obtaining sustenance to avoid the past. I suggest you do not pry about me unless I begin the topic first. Asking such is akin to asking you what made you take up the violin."

"Well, uh, I-I can answer that if you want..." It wasn't that charged of a question for him, truly. "I see..." It wasn't a yes or no answer that the researcher gave, but it was one that would be enough for him to go on. After all, it lightened that glare into a curious gaze. Huh... With how little Aloe's expression typically changed, maybe he was getting used to the little quirks of expression they did give. They weren't the first time Mint dealt with a phlegmatic figure. "In that case, uh- I kind of picked it up after I tried playing the trumpet... Or was it the french horn?" It was some type of brass instrument, for sure, but the specifics slipped his mind. It's been so long... Even he couldn't recount the years he's been playing. "I knew I wanted to be a musician since I was little, but I never could figure out what type of music I wished to make... My parents wished for me to play in orchestras, but... I felt like I was blending in too much." There was a sigh, a sentimental one, as Mint paused. He... Wasn't sure if he wanted to recount his parents and their antics. "Let us just say that after a conversation turned sour, I unwillingly was made into a soloist... It was an unforgettable experience, playing on the streets and seeing the adoration I received from my work and mine alone... Honestly, I was quite proud to make a living after I-"

"Hold on a moment."

"Huh?"

It was with mild urgency that Aloe had caught his attention. The green-haired fellow gingerly waved their hand towards the 'STAFF ONLY' door, where there was a... Far more than simply a surprising sight. That doll- Spinny was it-? "It... It's walking..." Mint murmured, being as silent as he could while keeping his volume high enough for Aloe to hear. It was with bated breath that the two watched that little mess of stitching and fabric nudge open the door and waltz right through, with a small squeak of the door as it closed behind it- er- her? Though there was chatter, the two heard nothing more than silence from what they just saw. "What... How..." Mint couldn't process it entirely, turning back to the other with an expression that could only be described as absolutely bamboozled.

"There would be no logical way for such a thing to move... Dolls... Things such as those shouldn't be alive to d- Ah, Mint!" The analyst shot themself up as casually as they could make it out to be. The musician was already making his way towards the door, which wouldn't bode well for either of them. "What are you doing?!" Their voice was stern but whispered. Nevertheless, Mint shook out of their grip and looked back at them. "That doll means a lot to the owner, clearly, so wouldn't it be concerning if she suddenly saw that it was gone? Shouldn't we go get it for her?"

"As if she would not have known it could do such a thing..."

"Then we could search out of suspicion of dark forces! Or at least... to try and learn why it's going back there..."

As much as Aloe hated to agree with Mint's actions that could land them in far more trouble than the knowledge would be worth... The thirst to know more about practically anything did spur them onwards. "Fine," they gave in, standing up the rest of the way from their seat and following the other. They returned to their standard demeanor, though there was just the smallest tinge of worried irritation within them. "However, if something were to happen to either of us... The blame falls upon you."

"Yes, I understand that... Now come on, before the thing gets too far away for us to catch...!"

Thus, the two followed, trying to seem as casual as possible despite how hurried the violinist was. Aloe couldn't help but sigh to themself while the shorter of the two opened the door, hoping that they wouldn't be tried for any criminal charges like trespassing. They didn't know any legal jargon, which would only make things worse if they happened to- "OH MY TREE-" Mint exclaimed in horror, quickly covering his mouth to prevent his already startled voice from letting out any other sounds. The researcher squinted, following the musician in to find... Uh... Something that would certainly mark this as more gruesome than the mansion's kitchen.

This room, this butcher's shop of a room, left nothing to the imagination. The walls were lined with splatters of red, most of which was dried and darkened. Though the floors were... Not as lucky. Portions of the floor were soaked and coated in the dim crimson, some of which even brought to more of a blackened area where the tiled floor let the fluid seep into the crevices. The worst offender was beneath one of the tables set between boxes upon boxes of labeled body parts... Which beheld a seemingly fresh carcass upon it. Torn open, coated in that terrible red, organs exposed and draped out as if simply moved out of the way... "I-I... I think I'm g-going to be..." Mint easily lost his balance, though was kept standing by Aloe holding him in one arm as a support. The maze of gore that his mind couldn't process just... Churned his stomach into irritated mush. It took all of the will he had to not lose his lack of lunch. How the pungent scent in the air didn't get to him like the rest of this place was a mystery to him, but it... It was a sight Mint couldn't keep his eyes open much longer to see. His hand shifted from his mouth to his eyes, body trembling.

"It seems that this place is... Meant to be where the more gruesome food is prepped..." Aloe wasn't nearly as perturbed, though their stomach disliked this for... A different reason. It was a reminder to their body that they needed to eat. As painstaking as it was to ignore it with the surroundings, at least there was solace in the fact that... Oh, there's the doll. "There you are, miscreant," they snipped, "you have caused us enough trouble." They took a moment to nab up the doll, not caring all too much for how they held Spinny, and caring far more for holding Mint up. It was a slightly awkward process since they had to release the queasy musician for a moment and catch him before he fell, but leave it to Aloe to have surprising dexterity when it counts.

Giving the room another once-over, the researcher scanned the gore-stuffed boxes that lined the floor. "Hearts, intestines, bones, arm meats, leg meats..." Though they weren't the most specifically categorized, it was enough to show that there certainly was some experience in harvesting bodies for their parts. "Please-" A shy voice begged, which caught Aloe's attention. Mint was... Shaking. Worse than usual. "Stop- Stop reading them off... I can't-..." Ah, right, there were those more sensitive than the present. It was unusual, but the multi-eyed intellectual found their chest just a bit tight hearing the other barely holding themself together. "I... My apologies, let us get out of here before-"

"-Before what? You become the next delicious meal?"

The squeal that Mint gave with an already weakened heart was something that could pierce ears if it weren't for the fact that it was now Aloe covering his mouth. "That- That is highly not suggested." Aloe retorted, though their usual composure was slacked just a smidge by the surprise. There stood the sandwich maker, a wide grin on her face as she held the sandwiches- stacked by plate, sandwich, plate, sandwich- in one hand. The other rested on her hip, as if this was nothing more than a minor nuisance. "Really, huh? You waltz in and see what only I should see, and expect to just come out fine and dandy? Well, I guess you would be fine... Fine and delicious!" The twisted giggles of a madwoman rang in the two's ears, which only caused Aloe to flinch as Sandwich gave a quick little spin to snatch Spinny from the tallest's hand. "And don'tcha even think about running! This sweet little smile can make it look like you two were the crazy ones!"

"Please, if you would just listen-" Aloe tried to reason, though was caught off-guard by the sound of a butcher's knife being brought before them. Aimed towards their head. The only other attention they had was to the trembling form they still held close. "Wanna keep that mouth shut before I turn it into garnish?" Spoken with an everlasting grin, Sandwich clearly wasn't one to listen to easily. "No, I will not! Do you wish to become ill from cursed flesh?!" With a step back, Aloe let themself shift the musician behind their back. They even took off their cloak, draping it over Mint as they listened in on the laughter from the sandwich slicer. "Oh come on, you think I'm going to believe you? 'Cursed flesh'? What are you, some kinda researcher against the bloodsuckers? It's not like it's cure... a... ble?"

The buzzing of wings brought the somewhat pompous speech to a halt. Accompanied by a pained hiss from the one who spread their wings, Sandwich slowly came to realize what she was faced with. "Woah... So you weren't kidding?" The surprise soon turned to excitement as she processed the fact that this customer of her's had the insectoid wings that she was always glad to see, as if Sandwich's moods weren't already changing on a dime. "Oh! This is great! I can't believe you two are actually like me!! No wonder Spinny seemed so nervous, hehe!" With the confusing observation of the taller and worried staring from the shorter, the bread slicer paid no mind to either of their reactions as they set both the sandwich plates and the hulking knife down. She gave a bow to the two, grinning from ear to ear while the doll she'd nabbed up had somehow got itself upon and stuck to the redhead's shoulder. "Sorry about that! I just get super antsy when someone tries to find me out! Now, ah! I should probably make you two different sandwiches, huh?"

Though it was jarring, Aloe shook off what was the utter ridiculousness and sudden change in atmosphere. "Uh... I suppose? There is no need to do so, in all honesty. The most we'd like is to leave here and get back to normality since Mr. Choco here isn't very fond of-"

"Nonsense! Here, there's a door just to your right! It's all clean and spiffy for people like you two!" Sammy motioned in the specified direction, and if it was as she described, the other side would be quite jarring... "And don't worry about the costs, it's on the house! Just head on through, and we can talk later!"

"If you are sure of such..."

"Triple sure! Now go, go, go! I have fresh sandwiches to slice and dice up!"

#🎻 the court's conflicted #🌵 the rabid researcher #🥪 the eccentric slicer #sandwich cookie #mint choco cookie #aloe cookie #📝 written scriptures #feastofcadavers #gore // #🥦 an adorable snack #spinach cookie

[gossamerandshadow]

Vivienne Cascavel: Blood Money

Indigo eyes followed the merchant caravan as the wagons lumbered their awkward way through the narrow streets, cautious to avoid knocking into the signposts and doorframes as much as possible.

Vivienne sat, sipping her morning coffee, on a second-floor balcony overlooking the street. Normally, the passage of a merchant caravan wouldn’t hold her attention so, but it was just another in a long line of odd little things about this place.

The town - small enough to be a village, really - was wealthy. The houses lining the neat little streets were well-kept, made of stone and bearing lovely stained glass windows. The streets were all kept very clean, and the town hall was well situated, with a classroom for the local children and even a well-stocked library. For a Gossamer world with only a medieval level of technology, it was surprising. Suspicious, even.

Still, she realized it was odd to be suspicious because the town was simply too nice to suit her idea of what medieval light was supposed to be like. And yet, she knew there was something off about this place. She’d been to worlds that had been unexpectedly perfects. Shatterlight was perfect in a way that was difficult to explain. It made her uncomfortable, but she knew very well that that particular feeling was the simple overwhelming presence of the Eidolon. This was different. There was nothing here to make this place this way. But it was. There was no reason, and it bothered her.

The caravan was the latest and most significant example; it had arrived several days ago, loaded down with every possible good for trade. Building materials, clothing, and food, both staples like flour and rice, and exotic treats from far away. And now, three days later, the merchants were leaving again, their goods nearly all gone and wearing smiles.

Perhaps it shouldn’t have seemed so strange, but Vivienne had hoped that this would put her mind at ease, that she would come to see that the people of the village traded with the merchants for their various goods with the product of the village’s industry. It made sense, didn’t it? If this were a mining town, the merchants would come laden with food and clothing, and leave with the riches pulled from veins of gold or silver or tin. If it were a farming town, then they would leave with the bounty of the harvest. That was the norm for these little towns on the edge of the wilderness - the merchants came with the things the town could not produce for themselves, and left with the bounty of the town’s industry.

But there was nothing. The merchant caravan’s wagons were empty. Or so at least as far as Vivienne could see. Surely the merchants were getting something for the trip but, whatever it was, it must be small enough to be hidden away among the few remaining crates of goods that hadn’t been sold off completely during the last few days.

Bizarre. Truly bizarre.

A black cat pulled her from her reverie as it jumped from the roof ledge and onto the table, deftly avoiding the cup and saucer as it settled down next to the little vase of flowers. “There is a mine.” She said, her eyes nearly glowing against her abyss-black fur.

Vivienne’s eyebrows knitted in thought. “But I haven’t seen any miners in town.”

“It is not an active mine. It has been depleted for years. Decades, even.” 

Vivienne’s expression furrowed further. “Then how does it provide the town its industry.”

The cat’s tail swished and she looked expectantly up at her mistress, silent.

Vivienne paused, and then laughed. “Yes, of course, payment for your secrets.” She reached into a little paper bag and withdrew a strip of salted, dried fish, laying it out upon the tabletop before the regal feline. “Now, Matriarch, dear, what more have you found?”

The Midnight Matriarch nibbled at the edge of the meat. It seemed she found it satisfactory, because she clasped it then between her front paws and tore a great chunk off into her mouth. “They are keeping something of far greater value than gold in the mine.” 

More valuable than gold? Vivienne twisted around to watch as the merchant caravan rounded a corner at the end of the street. That would explain why there was so little traded goods on the wagons - it wouldn’t take much of such a valuable material to pay for everything the merchants had brought with them. “What is it?”

The Matriarch took another bite of the fish. “Go see for yourself. The entrance to the mine is not nearly as well-guarded as it should be, considering.”

-----------

The Matriarch had been correct, of course. There were two guards standing in old armor by the entrance to the mine at the base of the mountain, just beyond the wall that marked the border of the town itself. Clearly, nothing ever actually happened here - the armor didn’t even look like it had been fitted properly to the two young men wearing the pieces, and neither of them looked like they actually knew how to hold a sword.

Easy to deal with, perhaps, but there was no sense in causing alarm. Despite the fact that moving through the cracks in reality was an immensely unpleasant experience, she did find it to be useful, from time to time. And it certainly was better than causing a ruckus at the door. From where she stood in the shadows near the wall, just inside the gate leading to the mine, her body simply broke apart - shimmering at first, and then disintegrating into dust that drifted easily up into the noonday sky.

When she reformed again, she wore a wince, and stood well past the entrance to the mine, in the dark, dank tunnel that led into the heart of the mountain.

It took very little time for her to find the town’s secret, but it took her breath away, all the same. She stepped out of the tunnel and into a high cavern with a vaulted ceiling. Here, unlike in the tunnel the space was lit. But not by candles or lanterns or anything so mundane. No. Here, the space was lit by the inner glow, diffracted through its remaining scales, of the enormous dragon chained to the floor.

The dragon took one look at her and gave an earthshattering roar so loud that it would have shattered the eardrums of any regular person. Vivienne was only thankful that she was not regular.

You. You have returned, after all these years.

For the moment, Vivienne was distracted even from the odd accusation by the sight of the dragon’s tail, twitching on the other end of the cavern. It was bloodied. The tunnel let out immediately in front of the dragon’s great maw - she could not see much beyond its face and front claws. Offering a genial smile, she began to walk slowly around the edge of the cavern, so that she might see the rest of it.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never been here before.”

Liar. You wear another face, but I would not mistake the stench of chaos and decay that clings to you like no one else.

She came to an abrupt stop once she managed to reach a place where she could see the hindquarters of the dragon, her expression agape with horror. The entire back half of the dragon’s body had no scales, but instead saw its vulnerable skin underneath exposed and oozing with dark blood. The scales had been torn off of its body, from the tip of the tail up to nearly its ribs.

“Wh-what.... who has done this to you?! Why?” She whirled around to look at the dragon’s face once more, feeling that she might be sick to her stomach if she looked any closer at the damage done to its hind. She was growing dizzy.

Do you still pretend not to know? Do you still pretend you are not the one who has chained me here? The dragon tugged at one of its forelegs, pulling on the chain that held it to the ground. The chain itself was imbued with the Umbra and, suddenly, Vivienne understood.

“I am not the only one who has mastered Umbra. Perhaps you have been visited by only one such master before, but I am not he. And I do not condone this.” She stepped forward, ignoring the growls of the massive creature warning her away, and began to inspect the chains. “And you... you cannot break these chains as you are a creature attuned to the Eidolon.” It would, too, explain the headache. She doubted this creature had conscious control over the Eidolon, but rather was a being exemplifying perfection by its very nature. The smell of the blood alone was enough to make her dizzy.

Then you can break these chains, if you master the same force?

Vivienne looked up and met a single golden eye - for the first time, not filled with a century of abject hatred for whoever he’d thought she was. “I can break these chains.”

“No!” A shriek echoed out from the tunnel, where a middle-aged woman was running, full-tilt out into the cavern, and then towards Vivienne. Vivienne knew her as the town’s mayor. “You can’t, you can’t let this monster free!!”

Vivienne stayed just where she was, placing a hand on her hip. “And why not?”

The dragon growled again, and the sound vibrated through Vivienne’s bones. Because she fears the loss of her riches if I am not here to supply them with scales every month.

“Every...” Vivienne’s stomach turned with the realization. This creature was imbued with Eidolon. Perfected. And, as befitting a perfect creature, it would recover from imperfections visited upon it... And so it regrew the scales. The scales. That’s what the villagers traded to the merchants. They tore scales off of a living dragon and used it to make themselves more comfortable in life. 

The woman looked confused, and reached out for Vivienne. “It’s a monster. We harvest the scales as one would harvest wool from a sheep! That’s all!”

Vivienne took a deep, deep breath, before she slapped the mayor across the face for attempting to tell such a bald-faced lie. “Sheep don’t bleed when you shear them.” 

At least the mayor had the good sense to look ashamed. “We have tried, you know. To remove the scales in a kinder way. It will not allow us to do so safely.”

Vivienne sneered. “No, I can’t imagine why. If you were chained in a dark cave for the rest of you life so that I might shear you hair to sell, I’m sure you would settle down quickly and let me do it so that I might avoid nicking you with the scissors.”

“That isn’t the same thing, this is an animal!”

Vivienne stared, this time in genuine confusion. A moment later, the dragon’s voice echoed through the chamber again, They cannot hear me as you can.

Vivienne scowled, turning to the mayor. “It is not an animal. Just because you cannot understand it does not mean it lacks intelligence.”

The mayor seemed to realize, then, that Vivienne was not coming to understand her perspective, and that she would not side with the mayor in this. And so there was nothing left for her but to beg. “Please...” The mayor - a woman of dignity and finery - dropped down onto her knees in the middle of the cavern, and held up her hands in a pleading attempt to convince Vivienne not to do this.

Vivienne’s expression softened. Perhaps... No. She would free the dragon. She could not allow a creature to remain in subjugation and torture like this just because this woman asked her to. But perhaps there was something she could do to help, to prevent the coming violence, to....

“Please, if you free it, we will have nothing.” 

And all at once, Vivienne’s sympathy evaporated. A sudden burst of rage erupted through her body, making her skin flush with fury. “You will have nothing?! After learning that you’ve spent a lifetime torturing an intelligent being for your own personal, selfish gain, your greatest concern in this is that you will be made poor?!”

The mayor stood and scrambled back, calling back through the tunnel, presumable to the two guards. “You don’t understand, we have nothing else, we...”

“I DON’T CARE!” Vivienne bellowed, chaotic energy lashing out and cracking viciously against the stone walls of the cavern. “Nothing you can say will ever matter, will ever excuse the crime you have committed. You tortured this creature for wealth. I cannot imagine anything more foul and evil.”

The two young men, those two poor guards who had clearly never even held a sword, appeared at the mouth of the tunnel, looking pale and unwilling to come any closer to the dragon or to the woman with static lifting her hair and rage on her face.

The mayor turned to the two young men, and waved frantically at them. “Please, stop her!”

Vivienne scowled. “Evil and cowardly.”

But despite the disdain in her tone, the guards did draw their swords to approach. Vivienne had been right - neither of them knew how to wield their weapons properly.

She held out a hand and both of the swords simply rusted into dust in their hands, earning a shriek of shock from the taller one. “You will not be permitted to torture this creature any longer. I am going to free it. Do as you will with that information.”

The two guards turned and fled. And the mayor, realizing that there was nothing more for her to do, followed.

Vivienne turned her attention to the chains. They’d been infused with the Umbra, the effects of the primal force turned against the dragon to keep it weak and contained. It was simply a matter of turning that force away from the dragon and into the chains themselves, to decay them. The chains slowly dissolved under her hands.

The dragon stood, stiff and groaning. Thank you.

---------------

The village would not survive.

Some of the people certainly would - it seemed that the young guards had warned the villagers of their coming doom before it had happened. Many escaped into the surrounding woods while the dragon, bursting forth from the side of the mountain, set the entire town aflame.

Vivienne walked along the main street, the very same street she’d watched the lumbering wagons moving down that very morning, watching as the flames consumed the buildings. Everything that they had built off of the profit of their torture was going to be ash by morning. 

Flames occasionally encroached upon her path, but it was a simple matter of sending the energy scattering away to clear it again. She found a seat upon the edge of the fountain in the center of the town, trailing a manicured fingertip over the surface of the water. It was warmer than it should be, even for a summer evening. She supposed the pipes feeding it must pass through one of the burning buildings. Perhaps the town hall.

A shadow passed over her features at the thought. There was a library in the town hall. And while it had been purchase with blood money, she did not abide the burning of books in general. 

She stood and began to make her way into the burning building when the inky black Matriarch appeared in front of her, darting out of the shadows to peer up at her. “Where are you going?” She darted up onto a nearby railing, and jumped from it to lie across Vivienne’s shoulders.

“To save the books.”

She felt the cat’s sigh. “Of course you are.”

#vivienne #caggles #vivi #matriarch #dragon #ic

[vulgarcute]

First Contact || Jinx x Ohma || “Gods of Love”

Summary: After a long day Kazuo takes Ohma to an affordable restaurant serving high quality meats. What he doesn’t realize is that there will be a lack of customers, workers, or much of anything at all as the owner works to provide her customers with premium service. Service that Ohma can truly appreciate.

Word Count: 1,696 words

The night air was crisp with the dropping temperature enough to make anyone feel a select kind of shiver run through their body from head to toe. Every light in the bustling city streets acted to make things a bit warmer in the same vein that the body heat of those just passing by unknowingly did. Not that any of it was  important when the warmth brought on by glee was factored in. “Oi,” a voice called out to his smaller (and much older) companion with only a shred of concern, “aren’t you moving a little fast?” The man stood tall, everything about him swollen to match. Every muscle he had worked to it’s limit pushing against the tighter fabric of his jacket in an ever lovely manner that still managed to seem pitiful in comparison to the mess or black tresses sprouting from his head without much care or consideration. And yet there he was, a man with charm, a man with outward appearance  above the rest without even realizing so. 

That wasn’t to say his older friend didn’t have merit. He may have been older, his hair an organized mess and glasses stylishly outdated, but he too held a charm. His whole being encompassed the idea of a fatherly businessman taking out his son (or in this case figurative son) for a nice meal to celebrate whatever grand achievement caused him to beam with such unbridled boastfulness. Though he barely had one his chest was swollen with pride and steps full of fragile confidence.

Confidence that the meal he had promised the taller gentleman would be as delicious as victory, “Oh come on! You know they used to call me fast Kazzy back in my day!”

In the wind he had seen an advertisement fly by for a shockingly cheap restaurant by the name of “Lace Jelly”, and while the ad did seem a bit girly the promise of good food for a better price was enough to put away the idea that this might be some pop up cafe for women. If it was he would just… have to find somewhere else to eat. 

He found no comfort when, after going through a few alleys and into an isolated area, the sign above the shop was as decorated in lace and pearls as one could imagine. But this was no deterrent for the younger man, apparently Ohma, who pushed open the door without hearing the silent protests of the older man before he looked over his shoulder with a raised brow, “Yamashitakazuo, aren’t you coming in?” Again with the calling of his full name! Kazuo would never understand this young man. Alas, while he entered the sound of the calmly crackling radio entered his ears and filled the old man with a sense of nostalgia made only more potent by the smell of freshly baked bread; one basket on every table from what he could see.

The walls were a subtle pink that held the sunlight leaking through the windows in a manner one would think impossible given how the building was tucked away. The tables were rounded with an ornate wooden base lovingly painted a pale rose and white marble table top. There were already four white cushioned chairs around each of these five tables, paired with four pastel heart shaped dinner plates (each a different color), mugs to match, and silverware laid over rather plush looking napkins. It was all rather feminine yet still felt like a home in a way no other little cafe he had entered did in a very long time. 

Stepping forward Ohma took a menu off of the stool at the front and moved to one of the empty seats, not a single customer in sight despite the sound of things being put together in the kitchen, “We’ll be seating ourselves! A table of two!”

His voice carried apprehension as well as it dripped confusion as he sunk into the alarmingly cozy chair.

He opened his mouth to try and make small talk with Ohma but he was already drooling over the images of thick steaks on the menu. Closing his eyes he relaxed into his spot only for the sound of someone speaking to frighten him to the point of stiffening up, “what can I get for you two gentleman today?”

A bit high, but still holding as much youthful vigor as a voice could. It held motherly backing and at the same time was cute enough to reveal her as someone young. Not that her appearance didn’t give that much away. Her blonde hair was divided in three distinct parts; one large pigtail on either side of her head and the rest flowing behind her. The top was decorated with a cartoonishly large bow. The rest of her was just as unfortunately fitting. Her little baker’s uniform was off white with a cranberry apron buttoned on with a heart shaped pocket resting on another larger pocket nestled against the left side, a white band around her waist, bunny stockings, a bow bracelet, and black shows with a pure white heel. But despite it all evoking his need to adopt this unknown grown woman; it wasn’t truly what caught his attention. It wasn’t her blue eyes that sparkled with excitement even through her glasses, it wasn’t how she effortlessly filled both glasses on the table with ice water despite the size of the jug she held that looked much to heavy, no, it was the fact he didn’t sense at all that she was coming that struck a chord with him. And from the look on Ohma’s face, he was dealing with the same experience.

How was it that she managed to sneak up so effortlessly? He must have been staring, because the poor girl began to look a little uncomfortable. He should say something before-

“I’m sorry gentleman, I didn’t mean to sneak up on y’all. I just got excited about having customers and all that. How about I give you your first serving free, as amends?” She gestured to the empty tables with a twinge of sadness, “as you can see, it wouldn’t hurt anyone else’s orders.” “Steak.” Was all Ohma said, pointing to an elaborate looking dish on the menu with a bit of the free bread still tucked into the corner of his mouth like a chipmunk guarding it’s harvest. “Yes sir! And what about for you, mister?” she didn’t even seem worried about if Kazuo had accepted her offer, which made sense seeing how quickly his dear fighter had taken her up on it. Clearing his throat the man looked for something simple before deciding on what looked to be just that.

“I’ll have the, uh, how about your burger,” just a simple burger patty, didn’t seem all that complex right? Nothing to worry about. With a nod of her head she just seemed to fade into the background as she headed for the kitchen. Looking up at Ohma, Kazuo prepared to speak once more but instead found himself curiously watching the man across from him who stared at the door into the kitchen with an expression he had yet to have seen. In all the times he had taken ohma to eat, this was the first time he had seen the man focus on anything but the meal in front of him.

In a moment’s time the girl ame back to the front with two armfuls of food. One hand held an american style burger with all of the fixings and the other several rather hefty looking steaks, “now I don’t want to see either of you leaving a speck on these plates! I portioned it out so you wouldn’t fill up too much before your next helping!” With the trained hand of someone who had worked in the industry for far too long she handed both men their meals and stood there a moment to gauge their reactions. She was a business owner in a business that was frankly going under. If there was anything in the faces these men made to tell her anything it was her job to see it! Kazuo was a bit bewildered, but began to eat as not to be rude. But Ohma hadn’t waited even a second before chowing into his food without even a second thought about etiquette. He wasn’t even using the silverware she so lovingly set out for customers! After he finished the second of three steaks she spoke up again, “easy big guy, can't have a handsome gentleman like you dying in my shop! The paperwork is one thing but watching art die is another.”

For the first time since they had begun to eat together Kazuo saw Ohma pause.

“How could I eat free every day?” He sounded so curious but the way his plate had been cleaned revealed his enjoyment more than verbal communication could possibly have done so. But this was worrying, Ohma had an unknown background and didn’t seem to know enough about the world to live in it without the help of someone guiding him. He had common sense and basic intelligence in everyday life, expert intelligence when fighting, but in social situations he was as lacking in skill as it could have been. Enough that most jokes-

“I’d only every do that for my husband,” an innocent comment followed by a jest, “unless you’re volunteering.” Flew over his head. It was in that moment Ohma made a foolish decision that would have an outstandingly positive outcome, “I am.”

With a laugh the waitress stuck out her hand, “well husband, I think we should introduce ourselves before you do that. I’m Jinx, owner of the Lace Deer. I’m twenty four years old and my hobbies are running my restaurant and decorating.”

“Tokita Ohma,” He didn’t know really how old he was, just that he was in his late twenties if he counted years he could remember, “I like to eat, and I’m the strongest man you’ve ever met.”

And just like that, as he took her hand and agreed to something beyond what either realized, the fated pair had made their first contact.

#tokita ohma #ohma tokita #selfship #selfshipping #oc x canon #kegan ashura #ship: gods of love #fun fact their ship name is based on Ohma's fighter name #Im posting two more then sleeping #I KEEP THIS IN MY DOCS BC IM EMBARRASSED #BUT I NEED TO POST EXAMPLES FOR MY COMMISSION PAGE

[lamaestramendez]

en route to fascism

Ok, class.

I am angry. I am words I cannot use on this blog out of the very remote possibility my actual students google me.

Our 45th president (henceforth known as 45 because I refuse to give him the name recognition that he wants) is a fascist pig. Let me teach you about this terminology so that you understand my full meaning.

Let’s begin with “pig” as it’s a more commonly known term than “fascist.”

Pigs, also known in English as hogs, swine, etc. Let’s look at my favorite the Oxford English Dictionary for a literal definition.

Notice that the 1st definition in the noun section is a literal definition, “an omnivorous domesticated hoofed mammal with sparse bristly hair and a flat snout for rooting in the soil, kept for its meat.” I’ve been told that pigs are delightful creatures with higher intelligence than many other small mammals. That is NOT my meaning. In defense of the pig, I share share some pictures of its beauty for you, class, to enjoy.

Image by <a href="https://pixabay.com/users/skeeze-272447/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=1507208">skeeze</a> from <a href="https://pixabay.com/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=1507208">Pixabay</a>

Look how clean they are! Want some more cuteness before we get metaphorical? Check out this pig swimming with a bird!

Image by <a href="https://pixabay.com/users/larsen9236-47917/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=171908">Lisa Larsen</a> from <a href="https://pixabay.com/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=171908">Pixabay</a>

Okay, now to all pig-loving friends, I beg your forgiveness. I cannot come up with better word choice. Pigs are not despicable creatures. I’m even somewhat fond of them. However, the only other terms that convey my full meaning when I say “fascist pig”, are inappropriate for my real life students to be reading when they inadvertently google me and stumble upon this post. I love them too much to expose them to that kind of English.

So when I say “fascist pig,” I am not referring to the many, many good qualities of the wild boar’s descendent. I am referring to those characteristics which humans find repugnant because we are wired differently than pigs are.

Yucky traits I am referring to with the term “fascist pig.” (Feel free to skip this section if you have a delicate stomach).:

Pigs, for instance, do not sweat, so they cool off by covering themselves in mud. Clever idea, right? Modern humans from my culture wouldn’t do that because the mud would dry out and stick to your hair; there could be something nasty in it; and dry mud under your nails is unpleasant. We also sweat, so mud as a cooling technique is rendered unnecessary. 

Pigs are not picky eaters. My dad is the son of a large animal vet. When I was a kid, he told me about how farmers have pigs go into a cornfield after the cows have finished the post-harvest leftovers because the pigs will eat whatever unprocessed corn is left from the cow’s droppings. Needless to say, the image stuck what me.

Due to the rooting through excrement habit, pigs stink.

Now on to the word, fascist. Following is a screenshot of the Oxford English Dictionary’s definition for the term “fascism.”

The screenshot demonstrates that the definition of fascism is, “an authoritarian and nationalistic right-wing system of government and social organization.” The next line explains a way the term is used generally to mean “extreme authoritarian, oppressive, or intolerant views or practices.”

Examples of 45′s fascist behaviors:

Children separated from their families in concentration camps. I have second-hand knowledge of this. The Gestapo Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) locked up a friend of mine for 45 days. He was taken from his uncle. He was 5 years old. Here’s his story: https://youtu.be/Xa6NYkQWF4I . It’s also been documented by many reputable news sources. https://apnews.com/9794de32d39d4c6f89fbefaea3780769

Children and adults placed in hieleras (ice boxes/coolers). I know people from multiple Central American countries who have suffered this at the hands of ICE. What happens is , the family turns themselves into ICE to apply for asylum. ICE locks them up and turns the temperature down to just above freezing. ICE lets them go within 3 days. There is no benefit to these families making up this story. Being from different countries, they did not know one another before telling me the exact same story. Here’s a similar story that happened to another family from a reputable news source: https://www.nbcnews.com/think/opinion/trump-s-family-separation-policy-never-really-ended-why-ncna1025376

Flint, Michigan still does not have clean water. Yes that’s more in the hands of state government officials but I don’t see 45 using any political clout to help mitigate the situation. https://detroit.cbslocal.com/2020/07/30/michigan-supreme-court-rules-flint-class-action-can-proceed-over-lead-in-water/

45 is violating court orders in regards to DACA. ***Side note: Just like Andrew Jackson. Can we please take him off the $20 bill and replace him with Harriet Tubman already???*** https://www.npr.org/2020/07/28/896334928/trump-administration-will-reject-new-daca-applications-administration-official-s

Journalists are arrested and manhandled by law enforcement when covering protests which is a clear violation of the 1st amendment. https://www.nytimes.com/2020/05/29/arts/television/cnn-arrest.html

He’s attacking his own citizens. https://www.npr.org/sections/live-updates-protests-for-racial-justice/2020/07/27/895713277/tear-gas-fired-on-protesters-again-during-overnight-protests-in-portland

He thinks Kim Jong Un is awesome. https://www.npr.org/2017/05/02/526520042/6-strongmen-trumps-praised-and-the-conflicts-it-presents

He’s trying to lengthen our border wall - again, shades of North Korea. https://www.npr.org/2020/05/25/861837314/trumps-border-wall-would-go-through-laredos-historic-downtown

140,000 deaths from COVID keep getting minimized. Steps to mitigate the pandemic keep getting minimized. https://www.npr.org/2020/07/19/892787298/some-young-people-have-the-sniffles-trump-downplays-the-coronavirus-severity

I’m starting to work myself up into a state with this list. In order to preserve my sanity, I’m skipping the rest of the reasons and going to the most salient one.

45 is advocating for a delay of the 2020 presidential election. See this screenshot from twitter?

Delay the election?????????? A delay would inevitably extend the length of 45′s current term, no matter the election’s outcome. That’s not how a republic works. It’s how a fascist who is trying to make it look like he’s operating in the people’s best interests, steals absolute power for himself.

Post-Nazi Germany, Germans often said, “We didn’t see it coming.” I say that is a bunch of baloney. I say, Hitler’s contemporaries did not WANT to see what was happening, so they lied to themselves to make their own reality more comfortable.

You should not be comfortable right now. You should be sick with worry.

Get the word out about the evil that is happening in America. Our own citizens are victims of 45′s fearmongering. Do not let them be comfortable with his actions. If you are silent, you are complicit. Do not be complicit. A true American pulls all the stops to make this country that we LOVE a better place. Staying silent in the face of fascism has the opposite effect.

Oh, and in case you forget, today’s learning objective is to understand why I am correct when I describe 45 as a fascist pig.

#black lives matter #speak up #america #usa #the united states #patriotism #patriotism not nationalism #love your country #fascism #abolish ice #melt ice #daca #no ban no wall #families belong together

[talpup]

Light In the Darkness: Chapter 13

Please remember this fic is rated mature and has warnings of violence, abuse, sexual tension, eventual sexual behavior, and other possible triggers.

***If you prefer reading off AO3 here’s the link for that: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20887595/chapters/49650020

13.1

It was the afternoon of the Star Awards Festival and the sun was high as Yami carried a bucket of raw meat out to Pilfer.  Seeing Teris near the Saber Wolf’s pen he was about to call a word of warning when he focused on the Wolf’s Ki and sensed no hostility.  Pausing, Yami watched as Teris reached through the bars and stroked the beasts muzzle.

Giving a huff of amused wonderment, Yami continued down the path and when was close enough commented.  “Blasted creature won’t even let me pet it that close to it’s neck.”

“Maybe cause you call it a blasted creature.”  Teris said, pulling her hand back and stepped aside.

“Doubt that’s why.”  Yami said, setting down the bucket.

“He resembles a hound-like creature I fought after that tentacle thing grabbed me and took me down the well.”

Yami looked at her remembering the feeling of hopeless despair and rage he had felt at seeing her taken.  The shame and anger he had felt that he had been unable to stop it.

“Do you think given the time those beasts could be trained like Pilfer?”

Yami gave Pilfer a hand signal, the beast sitting.  He knew what Teris was thinking, he could sense the guilt of her Ki.  Even if he hadn’t, his answer still would have been the same.  “Doubtful.  Some things like the way they are and are beyond training.”

As Yami reached into the bucket Pilfer licked his chops, front paws dancing but stayed seated.

“Down,” Yami commanded giving the Saber Wolf the signal for the order as he spoke.

Pilfer laid down.

Yami pull a flank out of the bucket.

Pilfer sat, a stream of drool running from his mouth.

“Down.” Yami ordered again, giving the signal.

The beast obeyed whining.

“He’s rather cute.”  Teris commented, as she watched.

“If by cute you mean can tear you to shreds and eat you in one sitting. Than yeah.”

She watched them go through a few more commands before Yami finally gave the beast it’s treat, patting the creatures side as the it ate.

“I suppose anything can kill you if given the chance and desire.” Yami said, turning out the rest of the buckets contents.

“Even humans.”  Teris darkened, thinking about Nozel.

“You talk to him yet?”  Yami questioned.

“Why would I? Even if I hadn’t wanted nothing more to do with him before.  After his attack on you—he could have killed you.  He almost killed you.”  Teris finished softly.

“A fact I’m well aware of,” Yami replied.  “Look.”  He said, unable to believe that he was actually going to tell her to talk to the royal ball of pride that was Nozel Silva.  “I’m not saying forgive him.  But at least speak to him.  It’ll only get that much harder to do so as time goes on.”

“And what does that matter?  I don’t plan of ever speaking to him again.”  Teris said.

“Like it or not you’ll have to eventually.  We’re Magic Knights. Something will happened and we’ll have to work together to save some townsfolk or some other thing.”

Or suffer polite conversation at the next dinner with between their two families, she thought eyes narrowing.  Like it our not she’d have to say at least a word or two to Nozel then.  Otherwise Fyntch would ask questions and go poking his nose in things, making her life and efforts to make something of herself within the Magic Knights that much more difficult than he was already doing.

“I’ll do it with you,” Yami said.

She looked at him wide-eyed.

“How about tonight?  If we see him at the festival.”

“You’re going to forgive--”

“I didn’t say forgive.”  Yami cut in.  “I said talk.  Something simple and trivial, like commenting on the weather.”

Teris stared.

“Think you can do it, Princess?”  He asked.  When she didn’t respond he stepped closer to her.  “Think you can do it for me?”

She looked up at him.  This was the nearest he had gotten to her since the morning he and Bronn had returned from the healers.  Granted they had spent a lot of time together over the course of the past five days so he hadn’t exactly tried to shut her out like she had him in the past.  But he had kept his distance, not taking every chance to be near her, touch her, or brush up against her the way he usually did.

“You’re not mad at me?”  She asked, feeling stupid for saying such a thing, let alone thinking it.

“Why would I be mad at you?”  He asked, grasping her arm.

Teris shivered.  After nearly a week without contact, his touch felt like sweet, cool water splashing her skin after in a hot, aired, gritty desert.

Yami watched her close her eyes believing he knew what she had meant, but wanting her to say it.  After Bronn’s words echoing in his head for the past five days he needed to hear her say it.

“You—you’re usually--”

His hand trailing down her arm her flesh prickling at his touch.

“--doing that.”  She said, blinking her eyes open.

“Rubbing your arms?”

“Touching me,” she blushed.  She took in a hitching breath, unconsciously rubbing her arm where he had touched.  “Near me.  Brushing me as you walk pass.”

Yami’s heart thundered in his chest.  “And my not doing those things made you think I was mad at you?”

She nodded avoiding his gaze.

He stepped closer still cupping the hand that had caressed her arm on her hip and capturing her chin with the other.  Gently, he turned her head to face him and waited till her eyes followed and met his.

“Would you rather that or this?”  Yami asked her softly.

“I don’t like it when you’re upset with me.”  Teris swallowed, her voice barely audible.

“But I was never upset with you.  Don’t think I could be if I tried.”

“That’s good.”  She whispered staring into his eyes as if hypnotized.

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

“What’s that?”  Teris questioned.

Yami wondered if she had truly forgotten or was trying to avoid answering the question.  In any case, he wasn’t letting her off so easily. He asked her once more.  “Do you prefer the past few days or this?”

Teris took in a shuddering breath feeling Yami’s hand tighten ever so slightly on her hip.  She looked up into his light brown, almost tan eyes, resisting the urge to caress his face the way he was hers. Yami couldn’t stop himself from leaning ever closer to her.  As much as his ears needed to hear her tell him, his lips needed to touch hers more.  Damn his impatience for her.

The sound of someone whistling as they made their way down the path halted Yami’s thirst.  He had to resist the urge to hold on to Teris as she stepped back and away from him.

“Hello.” Olsen’s voice called from around the bends shelter of shrubs.  “Is the beast put away?”

“Hardly.” Yami said in a muttering growl.  “What do you want?”  He yelled at Olsen.

“Bronn’s got a date with some healing mage and is itching to go.  Unless you want to be riding brooms to Castle City you’d best be coming in.”

“Fine.” Yami called his eyes on Teris.  “Soon as I finish up here I’ll head on in.”

“Have you seen Teris?”  Olsen called.  “Gendry said he saw her head out but didn’t know where to.  Hate for her to be left behind cause no one was able to find and tell her.”

“I’ll tell her and bring her back with me.”  Yami hollered smirking at her.

“Thanks!”

They listened to Olsen resume whistling as he headed back up the path.

“Teris.” Yami said turning serious.

Yami’s expression made her tense.  “Yes?”

“Bronn has a hot date with Gilly and wants to leave.  Unless you want to ride a broom to Castle City--”

She pushed him gently laughing.

“--you best be heading in.”  Yami finished smiling.  He joined her laughter with a chuckle of his own.  “I love hearing you laugh.” He inadvertently said aloud.

Teris’ laughter died at his words.  “You’d best finish up with Pilfer. I’ll head on back.”

Yami cursed how his mouth often ran off without thought.  “You’re not waiting for me?”  He asked.

Cheeks tinting as she looked about nervously, Teris asked.  “Should we arrive together?”

“Why not?”  Yami shrugged eyes studying her.  “It’s not like we were doing anything.”

But we almost did, Teris thought.

“Look at me.”  Yami said, his voice almost commanding.

Teris’ eyes snapped to his.

“The day I kiss you there will be no shame or sneaking around.  I don’t even care if the whole Clover Kingdom sees.”

Forcing the butterflies down, Teris spoke with a playful confidence she barely felt.  “That’s if I ever let you kiss me.”

That’s my girl, Yami thought giving a wolfish smile.

13.2

Night had fallen on Castle City but one would be hard pressed to find a darkened street.  The Star Awards Festival was one of the biggest events of the year, and not just for the Magic Knights but for the citizens of the Clover Kingdom as well.  It fell on the last day of March which saw the first harvest since winter being brought in filling the stalls and eateries of the city.

There was still a few hours before the Announcement Ceremony where the new Magic Knights squad rankings were announced and the squad with the highest number of stars was awarded with metals of honor as well as acclaim and applause from the crowd below.

Julius and Mereoleona having bumped into one another on streets of the city walked in amiable silence to the stall that had been reported to have the best fried dumplings and sticky buns at the festival.

Julius smacked his lips in anticipation of the sweet doughy goodness.

“Stop it,” Mereoleona scolded.  “You sound like a horse chewing a bit.”

“But my mouth is watering.”  Julius said excitedly.  “I purposefully didn’t eat anything the entire day so I could try all the offerings.”

“See all the magic.  Eat all the food.  Is there anything you’re not fanatical about.”

“Plenty,” Julius told.  After a few steps he urged.  “Come on Mereoleona. It’s the Star Awards.  Enjoy yourself.”

I might be if I hadn’t seen Bronn sharing a cup of sweet ice with some girl, Mereoleona thought.  Who was she and why did she have to be so pretty.  It wasn’t like Bronn had been blessed with good looks or was much of a catch in any other respect.  Maybe she was family from an outlying town visiting for the festival.

“Well, what do we have here.”  Pyter said coming across them in one of the intersections.  “The top and second ranked Captains having a stroll together, alone.  Discussing who’s going to be first this year. Your fall from grace has given the lion snapping at your heels hope Julius.  Careful, she might devour you completely.

“I wonder,” Jamie said rubbing his chin, “what did you do to fall from Sir Jorah’s esteem so quickly and thoroughly.

“I couldn’t care less.”  Pyter said giving Julius a knowing glance. “All that matters is that fall he did and now there might be a new top squad announced tonight.  Mereoleona!  How does it feel to think you might be trading places with Julius as top Captain?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Mereoleona said.  “Your Silver Eagles will still be third.  That is unless Jamie’s Golden Dawn didn’t bump you down to fourth.”

Pyter glared at her.  “There’s always next year Lioness.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Mereoleona said.  “It’s not fun beating you year after year unless you have a bit of hope.”

“But the mighty do fall.”  Pyter said giving her a sharp smile.  “Just look at Lord Nova here.”

Julius turned away, his earlier joy filled excitement gone.

“Leave him alone,” Mereoleona growled.

“What is this?”  Jamie asked.  “Royal solidarity?”

“No. I’ve just been itching for an excuse to rip someone to shreds for the better part of the night and wanted to give you fair warning,” Mereoleona told.

The smiles of the Silver Eagles and Golden Dawns Captains tightened and fell.

“We have places to be any case.”  Pyter said walking off.

“See you two for the announcement ceremony.”  Jamie said before following.

“Thanks for that.”  Julius sighed watching the two men go.

“You’ve got to snap out of it, Julius.”  Mereoleona barked giving him a shove with her forearm.  Her nose wrinkled as he swayed from her push.  This was so unlike him.  Sure Julius rarely rose when Pyter and Jamie were looking for a fight, nor was he what short tempered, by anyone's standards, but to get down at their words…

Julius heaved a sigh lost in his own thoughts.  Granted it had only been five days since his disobedience so chances were that his squad wouldn’t suffer cause of his wrong doing this Star Awards.  As for the next, he wasn’t so sure.

Mereoleona watched her cousin a moment before breaking down.  “As much as I hate to say it, there’s no way the Crimson Lions could have caught your Azure Deer.  You’re gonna be first again.”  When he still did nothing she went on.  “So Sir Jorah’s man at you.  Big deal. No one can stay mad at you for long.”

Julius looked at her.  “You don’t know what I did.”

“No. I don’t.  But it doesn’t matter.  You’re so likable that you could screw up as bad and often as Jax and Bronn and--”  She stopped, the image of the grinning Black Bulls Vice Captain coming to mind.  She wanted to kick his stupid, ugly teeth in.  Shaking her head Mereoleona began again.  “The point is, it doesn’t matter what you did.  You’re obviously sorry and still beating yourself up over it to the point that you’re bringing everyone else down.  And by down, I mean depressed.  And by everyone, I mean me.  One bad word or deed, or whatever it was, isn’t going to undo your countless exceptional actions of honor and bravery.  Nor will it overshadow your future ones.”

“I suppose.”  Julius said begrudgingly, feeling somewhat better.

“Now cheer up or I’m leaving you here.  I’m mad enough as it is.  I don’t need you making me depressed.”

13.3

Teris and Venice chatted joyfully as they walked just ahead of Yami and Tobin through the crowd streets of Castle City.  As Venice slipped her hand into Jon’s turning to the Azure Deers Vice Captain to tell him something, Yami noticed Tobin’s piercing stare before the man turned away.

“You should just tell her how you feel,” Yami said.

Tobin’s head spun around.  “Shut it!”  He hushed hoarsely eyeing Venice to see if she had heard.

“With this noise I could call Venice a stupid cow and she wouldn’t hear.” Yami said loudly to prove his point.

Tobin watched as Venice laughed at something Teris had said.  Satisfied, he told Yami.  “It’s not that easy.”

“Yes it is.”  Yami rebutted.

“Her boyfriend’s a Vice Captain,” Tobin reminded.

“So you’re afraid of Jon kicking your ass, not of telling her,” Yami said.

“I’m not afraid of either,” Tobin snapped.

Venice turned, looking over her shoulder and startling Tobin.

“Nothing.” Tobin said shaking his head.

“What?” Venice yelled.

Yami jerked a chin at her asking what she wanted.

“Want to try a game or two or find something to eat?”  Venice asked stopping and turning fully around.

The rest of the group stopped and gathered.

“I want to try all the games,” Gendry voted.

“Food,” Yami said.

“You two really are of the same mind.”  Venice said smiling at Teris. “She voted eat too.”  She told Yami tilting a head toward Teris.

“I’ll go wherever Gendry does,” Abril said.

“You follow your boyfriend around.  Isn’t that cute.”  Venice teased.

Abril glared at the older girl.  “I told you.  He’s not my boyfriend!”

“More like an annoying bur.”  Gendry said agreeing with her.

“Yes, you are.”  Abril said snidely.

“Then stop following me everywhere.”  Gendry shouted and stormed away.

Abril chased after him calling his name.

“I don’t get those two.”  Jon said watching them go.

“You don’t have to.  You’re not a Black Bull.”  Tobin told him coolly.

“As if that’s something to be proud about,” Venice huffed.  “We’re going to be last again.  I know it.”

“I wonder if the Azure Deer will still be first after all that’s happened.”  Jon said morosely.

“Boo woo.”  Tobin cried rolling his eyes.  He looked back at the Vice Captain glaring hateful as he muttered under his breath.

“Tobin,” Venice scolded.  “If you can’t be nice, go away.”  She smiled at Yami and Teris.  “Then we could call it a double date.”

“I’m sticking with my friend, Yami.”  Tobin said throwing an arm over Yami’s shoulder.

“Then be nice before she makes us both leave.”  Yami grumbled barely tolerating the contact.

They made their way to a new eatery which had opened a few weeks ago that Jon said he had heard good things about.

“I have never before wished for a meal to be horrible till this right moment.”  Tobin said mostly to himself but loud enough for Yami to hear.

“If you’re not going to tell her, you can’t be an angry pouting child about it.”  Yami told heartlessly.  “Suck it up.”  He hurried his pace to step beside Teris as they reached the door.

“Hold up!”  Jon called to the man who had been holding the door open thinking he was some greeter employed by the restaurant.

Fuegoleon turned wondering who had dared presume upon him to preform such a task.  Seeing Teris his temper vanished.  “I wondered if we would cross paths this evening.”  The Crimson Lion greeted acknowledging his cousin with an inclined head.  Fuegoleon held the door open allowing them in.

“Were you coming or going?”  Teris asked as she passed.

“Just arriving.”  Fuegoleon called meeting Yami’s eyes as he followed Teris in.  “Nozel’s already got us a table.”

Teris stopped Yami bumping into her and Tobin into him.

“We’re already here.”  Yami encouraged Teris softly.  “It’ll only get harder the longer you wait.”

“I never agreed--”  Teris began but was cut off Yami speaking into her ear, his breath tickling her neck.

“You can’t speak one meaningless sentence to him?  Not even for me?”

Yami’s eyes traveled to her lips as she turned to look at him.  How much longer was he going to have to wait to feel and taste her?  He would have pulled her into his arms and kissed her then and there if he thought she would have let him get away with it.  Sure he could steal the kiss but was pretty sure she’d slap him afterwards.  He didn’t feel like joining Nozel in the kennels for one little kiss.  Not when he could wait for another day and be kissed in returned.

“What’s the hold up?”  Tobin griped trying to keep an eye on Venice and Jon who had entered first.  Had he glimpsed him kiss her cheek.

“Wait.” Yami growled.  He placed his hands on Teris shoulders.  “If it’s really that bothersome we can turn around and walk out.  Find another place.”

“No.” Teris shook her head taking a breath.  “You’re right.  It’s not like I can avoid him forever.  Just got to rip the dressing off. Besides,” she shrugged, “how petty would I be if you can manage this and I can’t.”

He looked over at the table seeing that Nozel had noticed them and was watching.  “Go show him how much better you are than he is, Princess.”  Yami urged wondering again what possessed him to encourage this.  I guess I really am a good, confident guy, he thought smiling to himself.  Or a complete idiot, he added watching Teris head to the table.

“Will you go.”  Tobin urged impatiently.

“Just for that.  No.”  Yami said looking over his shoulder at him.

“How hard is it to take a damned seat.”  Tobin grumbled as he pushed past Yami and made for Venice.

“What was that about?”  Fuegoleon wondered watching the ginger giant.

“Pent up stuff,” Yami said.

“Congratulations, by the way.”

“For what?”

“Your promotion,” Fuegoleon said.  “Barely earned it before the Star Awards reset but you earned it nonetheless.”

Yami waited for the snide or biting remark but none came.

Fuegoleon held out a guiding arm.  “Shall we sit?”

“Why not,” Yami said.

Tobin hadn’t been quick enough to sit next to Venice, who was sandwiched between Jon and Teris.  In relation, he had taken the place to Teris’ left knowing that Yami would have wanted the stop.  As Yami and Fuegoleon joined them Tobin turned and gave Yami a look.

Fuegoleon stopped behind Tobin’s chair.  “Move.”

Tobin put an arm over the back of the chair and looked up at the Crimson Lion.

“Fuego! Manners,” Teris chided.

“Move over.  Please.”  Fuegoleon said his tone still hard and commanding.

“Get stuff--”  Tobin fell silent as Teris put a hand on his shoulder.

“Please, Tobin.  He’s a distant cousin and friend that I haven’t seen in months.”  Teris gave the bearded man one of the looks that usually got her, her way though it wasn’t necessary as Tobin was already beginning to move from the seat.

“Why didn’t you say so?”  Tobin was in the process of sliding one chair over over but Yami was too quick and took the seat  Tobin glared at him.

“What do you know.  It wasn’t that hard to take a damned seat after all.” Yami said grinning at his friend.

Tobin stood, knocking the chair over as he did so.  “I’m gonna go hit something.”  He muttered storming off.

“Aw, come on Tobin!”  Venice called after him.

“Why’d you go and make him mad?”  Teris asked Yami looking over at him as Fuegoleon righted the chair and tucked in between them.

“He was already mad and would’ve caused problems.”  Yami told her.

“Ki?” Teris questioned.  At her request, Yami had tried teaching her with minimal success.  Well, at least as far as reading Ki went; according to Yami she had picked up how to shield her own Ki rather quickly and had gotten good at it.  While she liked being able to keep Yami from knowing just how excited or nervous she was around him, that wasn’t the reason she had asked him to teach her.  The thought of sensing the Ki of people and things enticed her.  She could see how such a thing would be of use in a battle or even negotiations, which would likely come in handy if she ever became Knights Commander.

Yami shook his head.  He didn’t think Tobin would appreciate him telling Teris, especially when others were around and Venice could easily hear.  He might be an ass at times but Tobin was a friend.

“No offense, but I welcome the extra room we have around the table with your friend vacated.” Fuegoleon admitted.

“Agreed,” Yami said.

“I don’t mind being squished together a bit.”  Venice comment nuzzling into Jon who blushed.

“Venice,” Jon chided softly.

“Where’s the rest of your squad.”  Teris asked Fuegoleon glanced at Nozel wondering the same of his Silver Eagles.

“We agreed to meet at the Burning Cauldron a couple hours before the Announcement Ceremony,” Fuegoleon answered.  In truth Nozel had wrote him asking to meet or else he would be with his squad mates now.  He didn’t know why his friendly rival had made such a request but knew that Nozel wouldn’t appreciate him saying as much.

“So the four of us first years were all promoted to Fourth Class Junior Magic Knights within the first six months of joining.”  Fuegoleon said looking pridefully at Nozel, Teris, and Yami.

Teris turned to Nozel her tone almost accusing.  “You were promoted too?”

“I was.” Nozel answered lifting his eyes to Teris.  He cleared his throat.  As relieved as he was that she hadn’t kept her threat, he didn’t care for the way she had sounded.  It felt as if she found his promotion difficult to believe because of his actions, or more correctly in actions, at the labyrinth.

“Surprising considering your abandonment issues.”  Venice put in giving voice to what Teris and, even, Yami wouldn’t.

“Venice.” Both Jon and Teris scolded.

Nozel’s lips twitched slight upward as he glanced at Teris.  Teris scowled at the Silver Eagle wanting to tell him that she hadn’t chastised her friend for his sake but for Venice’s.

Jon leaned over his lips brushing her ear.  “Remember Commander Greywright’s words.”

“I haven’t forgotten.”  Venice shot back glaring at Nozel.

He gave her cheek a kiss just below the temple.  “Probably best not to speak or even refer to that day.  Just to be safe.”  Jon suggested quietly before pulling away.

Venice turned her heated gazed on her boyfriend.  Jon was always telling her what she should and shouldn’t do.  At first she had found it sweet, a sign he cared.  But as time went on if felt more and more like he was trying to change her into someone he wanted her to be not happy with who she already was.  She found herself wishing Tobin hadn’t left.  Her fellow ginger would have had some no so subtle stinging words for the Prideful Bird as well.

“Well.” Fuegoleon looking around the table.  “This suddenly became awkward.”  He looked to Teris.  “Leona said something about the Crimson Lions having a chance at moving up in the ranks this or next year.  Not that I don’t believe in our capabilities, but I don’t see Julius giving up easily.  And given how many more stars the Azure Deer have gotten over the other squads since Julius became Captain I had to wonder at her comment.”

Teris shook her head.  “I couldn’t say.”

Jon eyed her appreciating how his Captains sister had managed to appear un-knowledgeable while also telling the truth.

Fuegoleon looked over at Jon.

The Azure Deers Vice Captain told the royal honestly.  “I’m not one to get between the rivalries of the Magic Knights Captains.  That’s served me well this far.  What I will say is I wish the Crimson Lions and the rest of the squads the best.  Having fierce competition will only serve to make the Azure Deer stronger as we strive to remain the top ranked squad.”

A waiter came and took their order.  Returning, the man apologized profusely, asking if they would be willing to move to another table. The table beside theirs had opened up and the staff were wanting to push the two tables together to fit a bigger waiting party.

They rose and filed over the other table.  Fuegoleon preferring how this one somewhat tucked away from most of the surrounding noise giving a bit more privacy.  It wasn’t till they were standing before the six seats that everyone but Fuegoleon and Yami became uncomfortable realizing that Yami and Nozel would be seated next to each other.

“Will this do?”  The waiter asked when no one sat.

“Yes.” Fuegoleon said pulling out a chair for Teris.

Teris didn’t move, her eyes on Yami.  Yami gave her a nod and before she could contest he took his seat.

Nozel looked at Yami out of the corner of his eye.  Discomfort and anger ebbing and flowing within.  Despite having seen him do it before Nozel wondered how a man could be so barbarous as to take his seat before a lady did.  He could feel Teris’ eyes on him and told himself that he would do nothing to make things worse between them.

As Teris and Venice slowly sat Nozel gestured to Jon’s seat. “Please.”  He said encouraging the Vice Captain to sit before he did.  A sign of honor that Teris and Fuegoleon were likely the only ones to notice.  Unless Jon, despite being a bastard, had had a finishing instructor; which was entirely possible considering his noble father’s unusual actions in claiming Jon after Jon’s mother had died.  This act of mercy may have given Jon a roof over his head and food in his stomach instead of being at the mercy of the streets but since Lord Denwulf hadn’t given Jon his name the kindness had resulted in a different kind of hardship.

Fuegoleon raised a brow at Nozel’s show of respect wondering what the cause of it was.  It certainly wasn’t because the man was a Vice Captain. Nozel had shown no deferment to either Bronn or Jon, both of which were Vice Captains, the night after the Magic Knights Exams at the Black Bulls base.

Jon inclined his head is recognition of the honor and sat.  Nozel and Fuegoleon following suit.

The waiter brought their beverages assuring that their communal meal would be out shortly.

“I’ve heard good things about this place,” Fuegoleon said.

“So have I.”  Jon said from between Venice and Nozel.

“In truth I’m glad we found each other,” Fuegoleon admitted.  “Order the family platter will afford use the chance to try a bit of everything.”

“I hope the pork is as good as they say,” Jon said.  “I haven’t had good mooshou pork in ages.”

“You should go with Julius next time he visit home,” Teris said.  “Our cook is said to make some of the best mooshou pork in the kingdom.”

“Really! How would you say it is?” Jon asked.

Teris shrugged.  “Couldn’t say.”

“She hates mooshou,” Nozel said.

“I don’t hate mooshou,” Teris countered.  “I simply don’t like it.  In fact there’s very little I actually hate.  Though I can think of one with ease at present.”

Their eyes locked.  Nozel wondering if she truly hated him.  Teris hoping that he understood her not so cryptic message.

“We had mooshou, or something like it, back in my homeland,” Yami said. He smiled remembering.  “My aunt would make the flat cakes as fat as she could to try to hide that there wasn’t much stuffed in them.”

“So you were a peasant where you came from.”  Nozel said his assumptions confirmed.

“I was the seventh son of a fisherman,” Yami said.  “We made do.”

“I love fish.”  Venice sighed trying to break the mounting tension.

“Only if it’s cook well,” Yami said.

���I wouldn’t have thought it that hard to mess up fish,” Jon said.

“You be surprised,” Yami told.

The food arrived and they dug in.  Yami’s easy manner encouraged Teris to relax which lead to Venice and Jon quickly following suit.  Last to loosen up was Nozel, though even compared to his regular ridged nature was still stiff.

Though the mood and banter lightened, Fuegoleon had no doubt that something had happened between his friends.  And by the way they were acting the foreign boy had been involved too.  He thought back to Nozel’s letter.  It hadn’t said much, as was Nozel’s way, just a simple request to meet alone the night of the Star Awards if he had an available moment.  It had been Fuegoleon who had suggested the restaurant.  Nozel had never been one to instigate friendly meetings, Fuegoleon often calling for their meet ups or inviting the him along for one of Teris’ adventures.  She had never seemed to remember to invite Nozel herself but the few times Fuegoleon had shown without him she had wondered where the Silva heir was, asking if he couldn’t make it.

Throughout the meal Fuegoleon watched the two of them becoming more and more certain that this was what Nozel had wanted to speak with him about. Teris had often been changeable with Nozel.  Going from friendly playfulness to harsh, angry criticism in a moments flash.  But this was different.  Teris had barely said half a dozen sentences to Nozel, and only if Nozel himself had spoken to her and his words required a response.

The meal ended and the waiter returned asking how everything was and if they would like dessert.

“Yes.” Fuegoleon said at the same time as Teris’ no.

The waiter smiled looking from the two.

“No, thank you.”  Teris said again giving the man a polite smile.  “Just bring us the check.”

As the waiter bowed and walked away Fuegoleon turned to her saying.  “I wanted to try the rice pudding.”

“And you can,” Teris said.  “Just let us pay our part for the meal and you can open a new check after.”

“You’re not going to stay?”  Fuegoleon asked silencing his sarcastic remarks at how pleasant the dinner had been.

“I believe I have had all I could tolerate for a good while.” Teris said touching her stomach for Fuegoleon’s benefit but looking at Nozel out of the corner of her eye.

The waiter returned with the check.  Nozel signaling for him to bring it to him.

“What are you doing?”  Teris demanded as Nozel opened up his money purse.

“We fully expected to pay our part.”  Jon agreed having put extra coin in his purse so he could treat Venice to wherever she wanted this evening.

Nozel pulled out a large gold coin that would pay for their meal two times over.  “For your service.”  He told the waiter making clear that he didn’t expect change as he placed the coin on the tray the man carried.

“Nozel!” Teris tried again holding a staying hand out to the waiter.

But Nozel waved the man away and with one last bow the man complied. “It’s the least I could do.”  Nozel told her.

“The very least.”  Teris growled as she rose from her seat.  Jon, Nozel, and Fuegoleon jumping up in gentlemanly respect.  But she had already begun walking away.  Venice spun out of her chair to follow but Fuegoleon held a up a staying hand.

“If you do not mind I’d like to have a word with my cousin.  Alone,” Fuegoleon said.  He didn’t give Venice a chance to agree or challenge before turning and exiting after Teris.

Still seated Yami leaned back and sighed.  “So much for trying that sweet ice stall.  I’m stuffed.  Don’t think I could have another bite if I tried.”

Nozel glared down at him.

“You should thank me by the way.”  Yami told the Silver Eagle rolling back his head to look up at him.

“Thank you?  For wha--”

“Your welcome,” Yami said.

“I see no reason to thank you for anything,” Nozel told.

“So you think Teris just decided to talk to you on her own after she told you she wouldn’t?”  Yami questioned looking at his fingers as they rapped the table.  “Thought you knew her better than that.”

Nozel was taken aback.  “Why would you--”

“When you loose her to me I want you to know it was completely her choice and not some heat of the moment declaration that she was too prideful to back down on.”  Yami said realizing himself that that was a small part of it.

Nozel clenched his fists.

“If you lost your cool again I don’t think even I would be able to help you,” Yami said.

“I don’t require your assistance and doubt Teris holds you in such esteem,” Nozel growled.

“Whatever.” Yami sighed as he got to his feet and turned to leave.

“Watch yourself foreigner.  I’ll be the one to execute you one day.” Nozel foretold.

Yami smiled looking back over his shoulder.  “That I’d like to see.”

13.3.2

“Teris,” Fuegoleon called.  “Wait.”

Teris stopped at the edge of the sidewalk taking a deep breath of the fresh, cool night air.  She had always found Nozel cold and aggravating but had never noticed just how cruel and spiteful he could be.

Fuegoleon caught up with her waiting a moment before asking.  “What was that about?”

Teris shook her head.  “Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“Leon. Don’t.”

He blinked at his preferred nickname that she seldom used choosing to go against his wishes and use her childhood name for him simply to annoy.

“I can’t,” she said.

“Can’t or won’t?”  He asked.

“Both.”

“What happened with you two?  Does it have to do with that foreigner?” Fuegoleon pressed unable to stop himself.  From that second night of their being Magic Knights he could tell that the foreigner was going to cause problems.  During that dinner at the Black Bulls base he had seen Yami’s obvious attraction to Teris and how she tolerated, if not welcomed, his attentions.

“It has to do with his continued judgment, and desire to control me assuming that I’m already his when he knows full well that I’ll never marry a man I don’t love or loves me in return no matter what Fyntch says or does.”  Teris said the words spilling from her.

“I doubt Nozel wishes to control you or believes you are his.” Fuegoleon said thinking the Silva likely would be happy if he could steer or reign Teris in and had practically laid claim to her.  But considering she was his Intended all that was to be expected.  To Teris, he went on.  “As for his judgment.  He judges everyone. It’s who he is.”

“I hate who he is.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“You don’t know what he did,” Teris countered.

“Then tell me,” Fuegoleon urged.

As much as she wanted to it would only lead to further questions, questions she wasn’t allowed to answer and didn’t want to have to skirt around.  “No.”

“If you don’t talk to him it’s only going to get worse.”

“Yami said the same.”  Teris sighed.

“So this is about the foreigner.”

“No. A bit.  He was there.  And--”

“And what?”  Fuegoleon pressed.

Yami exited followed by Venice and Jon.

“Your friend’s waiting inside for you.”  Yami told Fuegoleon throwing a thumb over his shoulder.

Fuegoleon gave a growling sigh at the interruption.  Standing to his full height he told Teris.  “We’ll talk later.”

She nodded.  “See you around.”

Yami and Fuegoleon watched each other as the Crimson Lion passed and reentered the restaurant.

Venice squealed throwing her arms around Yami and Teris.  “We can now officially call this a double date.”

13.4

Bronn felt like a right gentleman walking down the middle of the street with Gilly on his arm.  She had originally tried to stay on the sidewalks but Bronn had managed to convince her that since the city streets were closed to traffic that it would be the least crowded place to get where they were going.  In truth Bronn had wanted everyone to see his fine date and thought the middle of the bustle was the best place for that to happen.

“It’s almost time for the Announcement Ceremony,” Gilly said.

“Yep, it is.”

“Shouldn’t you be there?”

“Nah, love.  As Captain, Jax should join them on the balcony but me or the other Bulls.”  Bronn shook his head.  “Anyone below third squad will only take up space and be an eyesore.”

“And you don’t think your squad will be one of the top three?”  Gilly asked.

“The Black Bulls are the worst Magic Knights squad there is.”  Bronn reminded.

“But that could change.”

“We had nearly a hundred black stars last I looked.  Nothings gonna change.”

“Bronn!”

Bronn turned at the stern call of his name.  “Advisor Ellara.  Shouldn’t you be up there?”  He questioned pointing to the castle.

“That’s where I’m headed.”  The Wizard Kings Advisor told.  “Why aren’t you?”

“Why aren’t I what?”  Bronn asked.

“Headed there yourself,” Ellara responded

“You do know I’m with the Black Bulls, right.”

“That doesn’t matter.”  Ellara told him.  “You’re a Vice Captain.

“A Vice Captain who’s had a bit too much to drink to be around that lot up there and keep my manners.”  Bronn told swallowing a burp

Ellara nose wrinkled wondering if the girl on his arm had been paid to be there.  “You better sober up quick.”

“Damn,” Bronn cursed.  Noticing Olsen standing next to Ellara he asked. “Don’t tell me she came across you and roped you into this torture.”

Olsen shook his head.  “My presence isn’t required up there.”

Bronn’s eyes narrowed.  “Then why are you here?”

Olsen looked at Ellara for direction before shrugging.

“That doesn’t concern you.”  Ellara said quickly.  “Let’s go.”

“But I can’t just leave my date.”  Bronn called as Ellara started off without him.

Olsen extracted Gilly’s hand from Bronn’s arm and lifted it to kiss the Healers knuckle.  “I’ll attend to your pretty lady friend while you’re away.”  Olsen said giving Gilly a wink and a smile.

Gilly blushed.

Bronn pulled her hand out of Olsen’s.  “Girl would be better off in a bar full of drunks then left alone with you.”

“No she wouldn’t and you know it.”  Olsen said.

Gilly pulled free of Bronn’s hold.  “I can manage by myself.”

“Naw, lass.  What kind of gentleman would I be if I left you to fend for yourself in town full of men filled up on liquid courage?”  Bronn asked.

“Gentleman?” Olsen echoed skeptically.

“That’s right,” Bronn gritted.  “Gentleman.”

Olsen held up his hands.  “Whatever you say.”

“Just watch after her and meet me at the east archway of the forum,” Bronn ordered.  He held up a finger before Olsen’s face.  “And none of your fancy words.”

“I will endeavor to channel you,” Olsen promised.

Bronn’s eyes narrowed not sure he liked that much better but said nothing.

13.5

Bronn arrived at the base of the stairs that led up to the balcony sweaty, out of breath, and cursing the capitol city's rules against unauthorized magical transport.

“What took you so long?”  Ellara asked looking over her shoulder.

Bronn gave the Advisor a piercing glare.

“Well if that didn’t sober you up the trek up the stairs will.  Six flights.  Double time.”  Ellara took off.

Blowing out a breath Bronn shook his head and followed determined to beat the woman at her own game.

Ellara and Bronn reached the final stair at the same time panting.

“What’s this?”  Greywright asked looking down amused as the two bent over sucking in lungfuls of air.

“There you are Ellara.”  Sir Jorah said signaling an attendant.

A horn sounded as more fireworks lit up the clear night sky.  “Look sharp everyone.”  Sir Jorah said tugging on his cloak only to have another attendant quickly pull it back centered on the Wizard Kings shoulders right before he stepped out onto the balcony.

Ellara brushed her hair back righting herself and smoothed her dress before accepting her cloak of office that she had left with her Aid. Swinging it around in one smooth motion she clasped its neck and followed the Wizard King out with the Magic Knights Commander at her side.

Bronn stepped to his Captain.

“What are you doing here?”  Jax questioned his Vice Captain.  “Is that ale I smell on you?  What am I saying.  Of course it is.  Are you drunk?”

All Bronn could do was shake his head and mentally curse the Wizard Kings Advisor.

“You’re a disgrace.”  Mereoleona told Bronn running a stiff shoulder into him as she passed.

Bronn had to take a couple steps before he caught himself.  Straightening he looked at the Crimson Lions Captain and demanded.  “What was that for?”

Jon gave the Black Bulls Vice Captain a look before following his Captain out.

“As if the Black Bulls weren’t an embarrassment enough.”  Pyter smirked passing by.

“Have some sort of pride.”  Jamie put in straightening his Golden Dawn cloak before filing out.

“Or a sense of shame.”  Breigha, Captain of the Blue Rose, rumbled staring down her nose at them.

“My degradation is complete.”  Jax said more to himself then Bronn as the other three Captains made their way out.

“Come on, Captain,�� Bronn whined.  “You don’t care what they think.”

“Stay here.”  Jax ordered before turning and exiting to the balcony.

Bronn watched his Captain disappear as the guards released the curtains they had been holding open and hung his head.

13.6

Teris had been grateful when they had bumped into Jack of the Green Mantis. They had met him a few weeks ago when the Black Bulls and Green Mantis’ had worked together to save a village from being washed out by torrential rain and a broken dam.  Jack had taken the Magic Knights Entrance Exam with Yami and her.  Though neither had remembered him; Jack had said he remembered them.  Then again after the way her and Yami’s combat portion of the exam had gone everyone who had been there likely would have remembered them.

For some reason Teris had instantly taken a disliking to Jack.  She found him creepy.  The way his tongue lolled out.  The hungry, murderous look in his beady eyes, as if he was deciding how best to slice you up with his Slash Magic.  The annoying cawing, cackling laugh that set her teeth on edge.  But Yami got on well with him and without Jon they needed someone around so Venice would cease her teasing.  Before Jack joining them, her friend been merciless in commenting how cute Yami and she looked together, saying that they should quit denying themselves and become a couple already.  While Yami hadn’t encouraged Venice, he hadn’t discourage her either leaving Teris the sole person telling the red head to stop.  Thankfully with Jack here Venice had done just that.  And for relief from Venice’s teasing, Teris would suffer Jack’s company.

“Saved any villages lately?”  Jack asked Yami as the fireworks ceased and horns silenced.

“A few,” Yami told.

“Only a few.”  Jack cackled.  He looked over eyeing Teris wondering what Yami saw in the royal girl.  Sure, Jack had had his share of interests in finer, high class ladies but once wooed his interest had ended.  It was a game for him, how many of kingdoms well bred ladies could he leave blushing and quivering wanting more of his attentions. But that was obviously not what Yami was up to here.  Smart considering that the two were on the same squad, but still curious. It wasn’t as if anything could come of it.  Teris was a royal.  And already spoken for at that.  He looked over at Yami wondering if his friend was unaware of the Silva’s and Nova’s intent to see Nozel and Teris wed.  That would be something he smiled.

“You should try to become friends with Jack.”  Venice whispered to Teris despite need not to in such a crowd.  “It’s good for a girlfriend to be friends with her boyfriends friends.”

“I’ll remember that if I ever have a boyfriend.”  Teris said dryly.

“You should--”

Teris took Venice’s drink from her.  “You should stop.  You’ve had enough.”

Venice reached for the drink Teris holding it out of her reach and passing it to Yami.  Yami took the tankard brows furrowing.  With a shrug he tossed the container over his shoulder.

“Hey!” Someone behind yelled.  Others crying out as they were splashed with the contents.

Jack cackled again.

“Oui!” Venice complained.

Teris pointed up to the balcony.  “It that Jon?”

Venice turned.  “Where?  Oh!  He looks so proud and handsome.”

On the balcony the Wizard King held out his hands encouraging the crowd to quite down.  “I thank you all for coming to the Star Awards Festival.”  Sir Jorah said his voiced magically magnified for all to here.  “We, your Magic Knights, appreciate your recognition and support of our efforts to keep the Clover Kingdom and you, it’s citizens, safe and secure.”

“He says the same thing every year.”  Jack complained as the Wizard King went on.  “You’d think that he’d have someone on staff to write him something new.”

“Who’s that beside him?”  Yami asked.

“Who?” Jack questioned.

“The guy beside Jorah that Ellara’s standing behind.”  Yami directed.

“You mean the King?”  Venice asked brows raised.

“Not the Wizard King.”  Yami snapped getting impatient.  “The other guy.”

“Yeah. The King.”  Venice said slowly.

“She means the actual King,” Jack said.

“Of the Clover Kingdom,” Teris added.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t know we had a King.  Just how foreign are you?” Jack wondered.

“I knew about the King,” Yami glowered.  “Just never seen him before.”

“Why would you have?  No one but the Castle Knights, his personal attendants, royalty, and possibly a noble or two are allowed in his presence.”

“It’s not that bad.”  Teris said thinking it almost was.

Yami looked over at her.  “Have you met him?”

“Directly? Once.  After the Grimoire Acceptance Ceremony.  All the royal, and a few esteemed noble, kids who had received a grimoire were introduced to His Majesty.”

“What’s he like?”  Yami asked looking up at him, thinking him too small to be a King.

Teris shrugged not wanting to speak ill of the kingdoms ruler.  “He’s the King.”

Yami looked at her understanding what she had left unsaid.  Figures, he thought.  One would have to be an out of touch, selfish, pampered prince to rule over a society with such disproportionate not and plenty and do nothing to right it.

“And now we have come to the moment we have all been wait for,” Sir Jorah said.

The four of them turned their attention back to the balcony.

“I don’t know why I’m excited.”  Venice said.  “It’s not like we’ll be anything but last again.  I hope he doesn’t say how many black stars we have.  It can be embarrassing with the people around noting you’re a Black Bull.”

“In first place, topping their record last year, with a total of ninety-three stars is the Azure Deer.”  Sir Jorah announced.

Teris beamed proudly up at her brother, sorry for all the trouble she had caused him since joining the Magic Knights.

Yami grinned at his mentor.  Bad as he had felt for Julius getting into so much trouble on his and Teris’ behalf Yami had known that Julius had nothing to worry about.

“As if there was any doubt.”  Jack muttered.

They watched Julius step forward giving the crowd a wave before turning to the Wizard King who pinned a medal to his cloak, and said a few words as he shook Julius’ hand.  Julius saluted his superior then stepped before the Magic Knights Commander.

Greywright gave the Captain a gold rectangles plate that had the squads name, number of stars, and year etched into it.  Julius saluted again before turning back to the ruckus crowd, giving them another wave.

“The people all love Captain Julius.”  Jack said jerking as a piercing scream for the Azure Deers Captain sounded behind him.

Teris had to agree, mildly surprised at the deafening noise.  She knew her brother was a likable person but to this level, it bordered on fanaticism.

“Ranked seconded, also topping their previous years record, is the Crimson Lions with eighty-one stars.”  The Wizard King proudly reported.

“Way to go Leona!”  Teris cheered her cousin wondering what roll Fuegoleon had played in his squads success.

After Mereoleona had joined Julius.  The Wizard King declared.  “Ranked third with seventy-eight stars are the Silver Eagles.”

“It’s that what they got last year?”  Someone in the crowd asked.

A drunken fan of the Silver Eagles pushed the questioner saying. “They’re still better than the other six squads.”

“We love you, Pyter.”  A young woman called as her giggling friends echoed the sentiment.

“The Silver Eagles will be top squad next year.”  Another yelled though there was no hope of the Magic Knights Captain hearing the encouragement.

The Captain of the Silver Eagles, having received his medal and squads bronze plate, gave the crowd a wave before joining Julius and Mereoleona to the left of the Wizard King.

“The rest of the rankings are as follows.”  Sir Jorah went on.  “The Golden Dawn with sixty-seven.”

“Two less stars than last year.”  Venice commented.

“The Blue Rose with fifty-five.”

“They bettered themselves by a star.”  Teris nodded.  “Good for Lady Breigha.”

“The Green Mantis with forty-nine.

Yami slammed Jack heartily on the back laughing.  “And you were mocking the Eagles for earning the same amount of stars as last year when your squad lost three.”

Jack looked dumbstruck unable to believe how the Green Mantis’ went from fifty-two stars to forty-nine.  Then he thought of his Captains inevitable displeasure felt clammy with fear.

“The Purple Orcas have rose to seventh rank with forty-seven stars.” Sir Jorah announced.  “The Coral Peacocks have ended the year with thirty-nine.”

The crowd muttered at the two squads trading ranks.

“And the Black Bulls came out of the negative with one star.”  The Wizard King intoned completing the rankings.

“What!” Venice shouted.  She squealed throwing her arms around Teris and jumping up and down.

“You act as if your squad earned top rank.”  Jack criticized.

“Shut up!  You’re not ruining this for me.”  Venice hugged Teris again then threw an arm around Yami and pulled him closer for a group hug. “This is because of you guys.  I know it.”  She said giving each of them a peck on the cheek.  She pulled them together as tightly as she could before quickly releasing them and stepping away.  “You two look so cute together.  Don’t you think they look good together?”  Venice asked elbowing Jack.  “Perfect couple, I’d say.”

Taking a step toward her friend, Teris grabbed Venice by the elbow.  “What did I tell you?  Stop it.”

“Ow!” Venice cried pulling her arm free.  “Alright, alright.  I’ll stop.”  She smiled villainously  “For today.”

“We have a star.”  Olsen exclaimed having finally reached them after seeing them a couple yards a head in the crowd.

Venice turned and shouted back.  “We have a star!”  She wrapped her arms around Olsen squealing with delight when he lifted her off her feet.

Olsen set her down and clasped Yami’s shoulder.  “It’s got to be due to these two.”  He said looking at him and Teris.

“I said the same.”  Venice agreed.  “They’re the only thing’s that changed.  I know I didn’t put in any more effort then last year.”

“Neither did I.”  Olsen loudly declared holding his arms out.

“How is that something to boast of?”  Teris questioned.

“Oh get over here you beautiful woman.”  Olsen said pulling her into a hug.

“Congratulations.” Gilly smiled uncertainly from behind Olsen.

“Thank you, lovely.”  Olsen said releasing Teris and giving Gilly a nod.

Venice gave a huge grin as she took in Gilly.  “Olsen,” she said drawing out his name, “who’s your lady friend?”

“You have the wrong idea, my pretty.”  Olsen said holding up a finger to Venice and pulling Gilly forward.  “This is Gilly.  The Grand Healing Mage who over saw Yami’s mending.  She is Bronn’s date.”

“Bronn’s date?”  Venice said in disbelief.  “But she’s pretty.”

Gilly’s words sounded more like a question.  “Thank.  You.”

“No.” Teris said stepping in front of her.  “Thank you for what you did for Yami.”

The Black Bulls girl seemed overly serious for Gilly doing what had been her job.  Unsure she looked at Olsen who nodded his encouragement. “You’re welcome.  But truly, it was no big deal.  I didn’t even tend to him myself.  My--”

Overcome with gratitude, Teris hugged her.

Gilly stopped not knowing what to do.

Surprised as he was by Teris’ response toward Gilly, Yami smiled gratified knowing that it was the concern she had felt for him that moved her to hug the Healer.

Teris pulled away embarrassed that she had let her overwhelming emotions has lead her to do such a thing.  “Sorry.”  She apologized.  “I don’t normally behave in such a manner.”

“It’s alright.”  Gilly smiled beginning to understand.  “Some people just mean that much to us.”  She turned and greeted.  “Hello Yami.  It’s good to see you outside of my infirmary.”

“It’s great to be out of there,” Yami said.

“Taking take of yourself?”  Gilly questioned.  “No further injuries I hope.”

“Not as yet,” Yami answered.

“And how are you feeling?”

“Like I’m back in your infirmary,” Yami told.

“Sorry.” Gilly laughed self consciously.  “It’s hard not to put on the Healers Hat when I’m around former patients.”

“Try.” Yami urged.

“The lovely lady’s team of healers saved your life.”  Olsen said. “It’s you who should try.  Be nicer.”

“Saved his life.”  Teris echoed looking from Olsen to Gilly and then to Yami, himself.  “What does he mean by that?  You told me that though plentiful the injuries themselves were moderate to minor.  She looked at Venice and Olsen.  “Everyone, even Bronn and Captain Jax said as much.”

“And exaggeration on my part.”  Olsen said forcing a laugh.  “Forgive me.”

“No.” Teris said not forgiving or letting the matter go.  “I want to know exactly what happened.”

“You were there.”  Olsen said.  “You saw what happened.  Yami went to the healers and came back.  He’s fine.”

“Isn’t that all that matters,” Yami said.

“After you convinced me to speak to Nozel.”  Teris said turning to Yami. “Not to mention the fact that you lied.”

“For your benefit.”  Olsen stressed.

Venice made a face.  Olsen realizing too late he had said the wrong thing, again.

“How is it you say all the right words to make a woman feel beautiful but all the wrong ones any other time?”  Venice questioned her friend.

“It’s a limited skill set.”  Olsen admitted.  “Every woman wants to feel beautiful.  Beyond that, you’re all different.”

Teris stared at Yami feeling an anger rise.  An emotion she had yet to feel toward him till now.  “Never.  Never lie to me again.  I don’t care if you think it’s for my benefit, or anyone else's  If you value our friendship and want to keep it.  Don’t even think of lying to me ever again.”

“Understood.” Yami all but saluted.

Teris spun on a heel and disappeared into the crowd.

Olsen whistled.  “Boy.  She’s mad.”

“She’s hurt.”  Venice corrected.  Turning to Yami she told him.  “She thought you were the one person in her life who wouldn’t try to control her.”

“I didn’t try to control her.”  Yami snapped.

“Didn’t you?”  Venice questioned.

“If she had known how bad off I was she never would have agreed to speak to that royal ball of pride and it would’ve torn her up inside with bitter regret.”  Yami explained.

“You tried to control her.”  Venice summed up.

“I--” Yami looked away.  “I messed up.”

I write for my own enjoyment, but edit and post for yours.  If you enjoyed reading this at all please comment and let me know.  It’s the only thing that encourages me to keep editing and posting.

Thank you to those who have left hearts.  And a special thank you to those who have left comments or re-blogged.  They really mean a lot.

Tag list: @captncappuccino

#black clover #yami sukehiro #nozel silva #julius novachrono #fuegoleon vermillion #mereoleona vermillion #black clover jack the ripper

[wolfens-den-of-tales]

GrissleWhiskers

She skittered and scattered along the bar, long had the establishment closed. Old George had failed to keep up with the lease, but it was his slack on the protection fee that truly got him into deep water. She’d found this place years ago, perhaps even a decade or two if her mind hadn't wondered too far off track this night. Even by then Old George’s Place had been collecting dust for some time. She’d nearly pulled her fur out trying to get his old computers running again, all the parts had gone a decade cold even when he had acquired it and set it up to take the ease off his back, in running his little, quant, salon, fat lot it seemed to have done him, in her opinion. What did she know though, she’d only simply been a stowaway aboard one of them...erm...damned mind seemed to have gone and gone off track tonight indeed. No matter, she had plans to commit to tonight, so many things to eaves drop on, so much to see around the alleys of Old George’s Place, some grissle even, left in the bars run down kitchen, nice and rotting, oh how her whiskers tingled and twitched at the thought of that bed time treat. The second suns late evening beams broke through the crypt bound windows, she reasoned that, there where perhaps ten to twenty-seven minutes till the third sun rose and the night cycle officially began.

She scuttled out beneath the door, scurrying from shadow to shadow, perhaps, tonight, she would, check out that old warehouse across the street, she’d seen quite a few, people go in there looking...sad...down trodden...no, answering an invisible call within themselves that they had failed to resist, yes, yes, yes in deed, and they always came back out, with faux smile or something resembling it on there faces, just staggering off the walls. She reckoned it was time to found out what that was all about, maybe she’d find something better the grissle. Ha, better then grissle, that would be a be a sight for her strained eyes. She couldn’t go through the door, no no to much foot traffic, she’d be trampled upon unknowingly, or worse, knowingly. I window, perhaps that would work better, yes, that would do, a high view for her to see what shambles beyond those walls. She made way to a drainage pipe that led way to a window from which she could view the exploits she so, vaguely wanted to see. She gazed, half minded, after it’d been clear that there was no girssle, what a shame, a stockpile of grissle, would have been a delight, a dream, pure bliss, and untold of heaven or hell, she didn’t know which, nor did she care, as long as there was grissle. I mean that is how she’d wound up here. Her whiskers had gone and done a twitching and tingling and well, she just had to follow that shit, had gone and traveled all the away aboard a star traversing ship, a...starship, yeah a starship. she’d boarded a starship, and found some wonderful grissle, had really gorged herself on it, didn’t even notice that she’d left her home and wound up all on in her new home, didn’t even notice any vibrations, just nothing but grissle.

She heard a screech echo out from down below, shaken from her thoughts of grissle, and just oh grissle, what a wonder it was, the smell, the taste, the feel, the sight, the sounds, the-. Then another screech came from down below, followed by strange loud snaps, and bright flashes, and the scent of, burnt meat and ichor. She bothered to glance down, and saw upon the ground a...beast...monster...woman, yes woman, three people looked down upon this woman, there strange boxes in hand, still glowing it seemed, peering at the woman, her upper just thick with fangs, her lower filled with flat crushing teeth, her three hands kept her three clawed fingers to her, her eyes, at least those not closed in her final flinch, glazed over, empty, hollow, unfulfilled. Three people, began to scan, search, look around the area and, “STARSHIP”, that was the word she’d been looking for. Mind. Back. On. Track. and then three snaps and bright lights crossed right in front of her brindled muzzle, The people down below, apparently had not taken kindly to her track back mind. Frankly, she thought that was there problem. It was time for her grissle.

She slunk back into the bar, on her way to the kitchen, to that damn good grissle, her tail, simply just slithered around the terminal, the computer she worked kinda hard on, the network within the bar connected to, something, she didn’t know, hadn’t bothered to actually start it up yet, new it was important to her, couldn’t remember why. OH, she was suppose to start it up, might as well get on that now. she back traced her steps towards the terminal, crawled and scrapped up the side. Scrutinizing the interface, she slowly, taking great care and time, smashed as many of the buttons as she needed as fast as she possibly could with her little paws. clicking and clacking and craving grissle, she finished with a flourish and a slam of the enter button, the screen flashed on, began to run hot and a stream of information began to scroll, slowly then quickly as it ran its start up procedure, a percentage appeared on the screen, 8%, 26%, 49% 67%... then the screen went black, and the system began to run cold. What a shame, apparently those part had run too cold and out of date to be rigged up in such a fashion, guess there was time later on to fix it. She once more, made retreat back to the kitchen, grissle never waited, it couldn’t, it was girssle, the heat death of the universe was only a joke to the concept of grissle. She made way up to the counters of the kitchen, with ease of repetition, her whiskers began to twitch and tingle and...she heard, tasted, felt, felt a click or a snap in the back of her skull, a trap or..maybe a trigger had been pulled. She stopped, then waited. The Grissle could wait, more important things seemed to be at work for her. A tingle ran down her spine, then a tangle, then a jive and a hoot and a howler, her bones moved and rustled, her ears perked and listened, she felt whole, no complete, her mind was focused, something a long time missing once more joined her. a smile creaked across her muzzle, and a long lost, yet familiar of deeply personal voice tickled the back of her skull, no, it is indeed her very mind. “Hello my beloved little Whiskers, you took your time to find a network to reconnect me to, I’m of course glad that you did go through and reconnect your dear Grissle, I’m sure it must have been hard, I never can give you much power to keep your memory stable when i have to power down. But here we are once more GrissleWhiskers once more. Now why don’t we consume that pile of rotten bread and meat and Technites, and then jump on off to the next planet. I mean, we are so close to finally...complete the need to find these rare little patches of Technites, and then, we can finally give up hunting for the ability for us to exist at the same time for limited periods, we could finally settle down my dear girl.”. Yes, the familiar voice, they have been deeply missed, my Dear Grissle, such grand teaching and trickery on both parts have gotten us here, what starhopper should we take this time, a deluxe cruise, “No, that will not do, they check for ‘Vermin’ far to often, may haps a passenger ship?” no so horrible, filled with misery, fleeing from misery, just to wind up back at more misery. A Military Frigate? “Oh yes, that’ll do nicely, I can connect to the network there and still exist, while you scrape us a nice harvest of Technites while we travel, and as an amazing bonus, you love the food they serve, and we can easily hide from the miserable conscripts and their cruel overlords.” Oh yes that’ll do. When the second sun rises, we can make way.

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