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blarrghe · 4 years

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Lavellan Bros: Meet Kiara

Did someone say more Lavellan Bros? Did someone say THEO HAS A KID? Welcome to more Lavellan bros, Theo has a kid and I have died. @serphena‘s Theo in this with my Taren Lavellan, and it can be read as taking place in either AU tbh.

Theo was nervous as he led Taren out into the gardens. He didn't say much in the way of explanation, and what he did say was muttered and fast. "There's someone I want you to meet" was the gist of it, the rest was apologetic and evasive. "I promise I'll explain later I just," head shaking, hand wringing nervousness, "you should meet her first."

Taren followed him, curiously straining to look ahead into the gardens, searching for this big reveal.

There were several people about, tending to the medicinal plants or relaxing in their leisure time. He spotted Cassandra, keeping close to a small dark-haired child, an uncertain smile on her face. The child giggled and poked at Cassandra's armour, and the Seeker looked mostly amused, if a little stiff.

"Kiara!" Theo called out next to him, taking a wide stance with arms outstretched. The little girl and the Seeker both looked up with relieved smiles, and then the little girl was rushing toward them, springing into Theo's arms.

"Papa!" Theo took her up in his arms. She was a tiny thing, and she didn't share his winter pale complexion and startling silver hair, but she had his face; in the nose and eyes, even the smile.

"Taren," Theo turned to him, securing the toddler into a comfortable spot on his hip, "meet my daughter, Kiara." The little girl smiled at him, and it was definitely Theo's smile now, though more dimpled and sweet - like his had been, long ago. "Kiara, this is your uncle Taren."

AO3 Link or read the rest under the cut!

"Hi, Kiara." Taren smiled, offering the girl a friendly wave. This was the last surprise he would have guessed at, but it was a great one. She looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Hi!" Kiara wriggled her little face toward her father's, her smile expectant. "Can we play now?"

"Papa really has to talk to uncle Taren for a minute..." Theo began to answer apologetically, setting the little girl down again on the ground. Her disappointment was evident, and Taren was standing back, grinning at the entire interaction. He bent down.

"I think it can wait, right?" He confided in the girl, who nodded, "we can play for a bit first."

Kiara grinned, and in an instant was running back into the garden's grassy clearing, demanding that they chase her.

She was surprisingly talkative, for one so young with someone so new. She insisted on piggy back rides and on being spun in the air by both of them, chattered happily about her papa, the castle, herself, and asked quick, excited questions about everything and everyone else. And Taren, delighted, obliged her requests and indulged seriously every single curiosity she had:

"Why is your face like that? Pappa has swirls on his face too but you have so many!" She reached out, touching the spiralling tattoos on his cheek with curious pointing fingers, tracing the lines with a look of wonder.

"We get them when we become adults. You know I was there when your papa got his? He didn't like getting them, that's why he doesn't have as many as me." Taren was sitting in the grass next to her now, having won the game of “catch me” and then been directed to observe a pretty flower that sprang up outside of the sectioned off herb gardens. They were dandelions, but that didn’t mean they weren’t pretty.

"I like them. They're pretty. Can I have some?" She bounced with her questions, playing with the grass as she spoke, touching his clothes or hair or whatever other little thing caught her attention.

"Maybe, when you become an adult."

A thoughtful pause. "Do you like apples? The lady gave me an apple while we waited for papa."

"Sure, I love apples." Taren answered, plucking a few dandelions and weaving them into a chain. Kiara watched, enthralled.

"Do you like red apples or yellow apples?"

"Hmm.” Taren considered the question, come to think of it, he did have a preference. “Red apples."

"I like yellow ones!" Kiara volunteered happily.

"Okay, I'll give you all my yellow apples and you give me your red ones, deal?"

"Okay!" Another thoughtful pause. "Do you know any songs? Sing one! There's a singer lady in the big building but papa says I can't go there..."

He taught her a repetitive song about ducks, and he was pretty sure he caught Theo glaring at him some minutes later while she laughed and danced about the gardens singing it on a loop.

Cassandra had slipped away when Theo had taken his daughter from her care, and she must have arranged for them to be left unbothered, because by sunset no one had come to them with any work requiring attention, and the little girl had found her way onto her father's lap, still sleepily singing about ducks.Theo gathered up the little bundle of sunkissed limbs and dark hair who was falling asleep on top of him, and brought her inside. Taren followed him up to his chambers, waiting outside for what was sure to be a very long conversation.

---

"So I guess I have to stop calling you da'len." Taren said with a nudge at Theo's shoulder. They sat on the battlements just outside the door to Theo's room, while the sun dipping low behind the mountains cast the whole fortress in a soft violet glow.

Theo chuckled, and his smile was real. Peaceful. "I think you're her new favourite uncle. I'm never going to get that song out of my head, thanks to you."

"She's incredible. I can't believe you have a daughter. You!" He smiled, but there was silence for a moment, as soft rose coloured clouds drifted by overhead.

"You aren't mad, are you?" It was a silly thing for Theo to ask, but the nervousness in the question was serious enough.

"Why would I be mad?"

Theo shrugged. "Because I didn't tell you, didn't tell anyone..."

Taren frowned. "I'm not mad, Theo. But why didn't you?"

Another shrug, this one sadder. "We were going to. But after her mother... we weren't even bonded." He shook his head.

Taren sighed. The girl couldn’t have been more than four, which would have made his father only a teenager when she had been born, barely of age. As for not being bonded, well, perhaps there were some who might have cared, little as he liked to admit it, but it did hurt to think he might have been included in such fears.

"You think I'd care about that? Really? Me?" He nudged Theo again, prodding the smile back out of him.

"I just... didn't want us to be a burden." What an even sillier thing to say, but he supposed he understood it. Her birth would have coincided with the breaking of Kirkwall's Chantry; the beginning of the war between the mages and Templars. The chaos of the human world had been hard on the clans of the Free Marches. In those days they had been moving again, more frequently than ever; hunting was dangerous and food more scarce. Even Taren had taken to spending long stretches away from the clan, aiding their sister clans and gathering information when the fighting lessened the numbers of their scouts. Children born in those turbulent times did put a stress on the clan, but never anything but a welcome one. He wished he could have known then, had the chance to help.

"What happened to her? Kiara's mother?" The question had been in the back of his mind all afternoon. She was present in her daughter's skin and thick brown hair, in the colour of her eyes and the laugh that fell heavier than Theo's did, bold on such a little thing. But she was missing from Skyhold, and she was missing, as well, Taren realised now, from Theo's smile.

"She died." It wasn't a real explanation, but the weight of it was heavy. Theo looked away as Taren peered imploringly at him, telling his story to the sky. "We were traveling with some of her friends, they wanted to join the clan but... in the end, only Kiara and I made it."

"You didn't stay." It must have happened while he was away, out on some mission of his own. Why had no one told him that Theo had been back and gone again, with a child, no less? "Theo, you know we would have taken care of her, no matter what." She could have grown up with friends, family, a whole clan to look after her.

Theo shook his head. "I know." the admittance fell reluctantly, his nervousness giving way to something more apologetic. "The clan was moving again, and I had to go. I couldn't just leave her."

Taren nodded in solemn understanding. That, Theo did not have to explain. One orphan need not explain such things to another. “Tell me about what happened.” He suggested it softly, a request more than a demand. He wanted to know the full story, just as he always did, but he sensed too that it was about time that Theo told it, for his own sake.

Theo began by describing her, the short-lived and sunny love he’d found unexpectedly in his travels. He talked about how they had fallen together, become inseparable, made plans for a future she never got to see. He described some of her friends, too, the ones who had been their companions and which might have been a family, if things hadn’t turned against them so unfairly. Their deaths he got out with little detail, a quick summary of events that were violent and painful, his face twisting into a tortured grimace as he skimmed past that bit of the tale. It was a long story, full of sorrows and unfair circumstances. Some of the recollection was edged in anger, and even the threat of tears. But through it all, he returned always to Kiara, to seeing her grow and teaching her about the world as best as he could - how to be safe in it, but also how to appreciate its beauty; the names of plants and animals, badly remembered Dalish tales before she slept at night.

“And now we’re here, and it’s safe...and, it’s time I let us stay in one place for a while, I think.” He looked at Taren, straight in the eye and full of determination. “She’s not going back to the clan, understand? She stays with me.” As though he would have it any other way.

“I wouldn’t ask it even if I thought I had that power.” Taren replied, reassuring.

Theo breathed out, calmer, now that he was empty of his secrets. “You’re supposed to be the next Keeper. Isn’t it your job to send us home?”

“Da’len, you are home.”

#my writing #my fic #dragon age fanfic #dragon age inquisition fanfic #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #taren lavellan #theo lavellan #kiara lavellan #my ocs #other people's ocs #lavellan bros #familyyyyyyy #soft #also hi I teach kindergarten and I MISS KIDS

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far-off-flower-fields · 4 years

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Weird Questions that say a lot

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans? Teacups!

2. chocolate bars or lollipops? Lollipops

3. bubblegum or cotton candy? Cotton candy

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you? We call elementary school primary school. It depended which teachers you asked, my favourites always said I was “conscientious, kind, and a pleasure to have in class”.

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups? Glass cups or bottles.

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear? I have like 4 looks, pastel, boho, and goth/witchy/grunge, also vintage-inspired which wasn’t mentioned but I love it.

7. earbuds or headphones? Depends on the shape, I love my Razr headset because it doesn’t squash my ears, and I like galaxy bud shaped earbuds, the ones with the little rubber doo-dads that fit actually in your ear. Apple or a lot of older flat earbuds cause me a lot of pain.

8. movies or tv shows? TV shows. Movies are getting longer and longer and my focus is getting shorter and shorter

9. favorite smell in the summer? Rainy days!

10. game you were best at in p.e.? The game of queue-ducking (where you go to the back of the queue to avoid your turn), or dance, or the less strength intensive parts of gymnastics. Or crying, always been great at that xD

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day? Muesli, or nothing.

12. name of your favorite playlist? I prefer to listen to full albums rather than playlists, but I have a few favourites on Spotify. Born to Run 150BPM, Infinite Indie Folk, Irish Folk: Jigs and Reels, All Out 80s/90s/00s. I also love scene/pop-punk playlists.

13. lanyard or key ring? Key Ring

14. favorite non-chocolate candy? Message Hearts (or anything with that texture), the red pack of starbursts (the UK version is vegan). Does Turkish Delight count because if so then that is my fave. I also like gummies if they’re vegan.

15. favorite book you read as a school assignment? To Kill a Mockingbird (high school), or The Bloody Chamber (uni), or Hamlet (uni)

16. most comfortable position to sit in? One foot under me, the other foot out to the other side, but both in the same position (if the surface is flat), or knees up.

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes? I own a lot of shoes so there isn’t really a single pair I wear the most. Recently my Air Force 1s, I’m trying to wear them in because the previous owner didn’t so the cause blisters.

18. ideal weather? Cold, overcast, rainy, still. Or without the rain. or snow (as long as I’m not going in the car and I can go crunch my shoes in it xD

19. sleeping position? Either side, but my body is kinda rotated towards the bed so it’s like half way between on my stomach and on my side.

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)? Notebooks

21. obsession from childhood? Animals, dinosaurs, goddesses, magic, crystals, neopets, sims. I still love all of these things, I am a rotating door of obsessions, usually a bunch of the same obsessions on repeat.

22. role model? I don’t have one particular role model, I do have tons of people that I love and respect.

23. strange habits? I have so many strange habits that I have become one myself. Nothing actually stands out though because 99% of it is because of my brain.

24. favorite crystal? rose quartz or moonstone.

25. first song you remember hearing? Maybe Dancing Queen by ABBA, definitely the first I remember dancing to, but my dad loves music so I grew up with a constant stream of it.

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather? Suffer xD when I’m able to do so comfortably I’d love to go out looking for pretty stones, and nice sticks with my fiance, also would like to go on picnics with him, or a friend if I had one.

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather? Baking, drawing, crafts, standing in the rain. Everything.

28. five songs to describe you? 6/10 - Dodie Robert Frost - Mal Blum Caught in the Middle - Paramore Side Effects - Jade Bird Snitches Get Stitches - Onsind Bonus track: The Seed - Aurora I wish I still had the playlist I made of songs I relate to, several of these were on it though.

29. best way to bond with you? Oversharing, or telling me about things you’re into.

30. places that you find sacred? Nature. My favourite spots are little creeks/rivers in wooded areas, but just like, all of it is special and should be treated as such. Also bedrooms.

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names? I think maybe I’m not gutsy or whatever enough, but also unpredictable. I wear whatever I like, and I’m just as likely to cry in all of them as I am to accidentally get in a fight.

32. top favorite vines? I feel so basic because I never really did the vine thing. There was one that nearly killed me because I literally started to choke that was in some kind of office and the bit like can you run this past me again, and they just fucking legged it past them holding a folder up, Saw it once, never saw it again. Road work ahead. Why you can’t lift a house (might be a tok?) Brass dad and oven kid Look at this graaaaph Never learned how to read I can’t sit I have hemorrhoids The one with the people in blankets bobbing the nana nanana song Fr esh avo ca do Look at all these chickens

33. most used phrase in your phone? I love you - if I had to guess

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head? right now, nothing. I often get the old Super Liquor jingle lodged in there though.

35. average time you fall asleep? 6am?

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing? Charlie the unicorn or that one Noodles video by Cyanide and Happiness. Are those even memes?

37. suitcase or duffel bag? Depends. I mostly use a bag though since I never go anywhere for long.

38. lemonade or tea? Tea? Usually if you ask for lemonade here you get Sprite which is not lemonade.

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie? I had a vegan lemon meringue pie once, so good. Cake is easier to make though, and I can eat more in one sitting without getting sick xD

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school? Um, the principal in my last year of school got caught for being a peeping tom a few years after I left.

41. last person you texted? My Fiance.

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets? Jacket pockets

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket? Depends on the rest of the outfit and the weather. I wear Jean jackets most though.

44. favorite scent for soap? I love lavender, or vanilla/candy/fruity/baked goods type scents. I still have a bottle of Sugar Fairy spray from lush from a year ago and I love the smell of that.

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero? Fantasy I think.

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in? Nekkid?

47. favorite type of cheese? As a kid it was feta. Now I only eat vegan cheese. I was never a huge cheese fan tbh.

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be? Rotten xD um probably a cranberry or something because I’m small, and I’m not a fan of cranberry.

49. what saying or quote do you live by? An it harm none do what you will. Or treat others as you wish to be treated.

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have? Probably one of the vines I listed above, either “run it past” or “can’t lift a house” because both of those resulted in crying and choking.

51. current stresses? My cat has been throwing up and having diarrhoea the past week or so, she’s been to the vet, it got better for a bit, but tonight suddenly got worse. Living with my parents who I have a very toxic relationship with. Living in a single very overfilled room. Trying to not spend money so that I can save up to move next year. Nightmares about my trauma. Either the house is haunted or there’s a build up of negative energy (probably that).

52. favorite font? I always liked the look of all of the script style fonts (freestyle, french, lucida, lucida calligraphy, Edwardian, Palace) but they’re not accessible so for anything people will actually see (which is literally nothing) I always go with arial.

53. what is the current state of your hands? Slight rash on one finger because I’m sensitive to what is in a lot of hand washing products apparently (never an issue until the pandemic), one broken finger nail that is a bit shorter than the rest. Not painted nails because energy. I always wear my engagement ring, usually I wear several other rings but with how my skin is being I thought I’d better not for a while.

54. what did you learn from your first job? Bakeries are hell, my circadian rhythm will not adjust to anything besides its natural state for longer than a couple of days at a time no matter how long or hard I try. I can absolutely fall asleep standing up.

55. favorite fairy tale? Ugly Duckling

56. favorite tradition? I don’t have anyway... Yet? Hopefully when I move this can become a thing.

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome? I’m interpretting overcome loosely here, meaning “I have not died from this” - Suicide of my first love - Bullying - 3 different jobs that all nearly killed me

58. four talents you’re proud of having? Literally can’t think of one. I’m not talented. I’m passable at a couple of things, but I worked for those things and I’m still not good enough for anyone to confuse me for being talented xD Those things I care about that I’ve worked on a lot are singing, art, languages, crafts? I still struggled to come up with 4. My bad.

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be? Aw jeez xD

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be? Magical Girl! This is an easy one, give me the powers and the clothes yessss.

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.? Literally sitting here drawing a blank, so instead of favourite here is the first one that came into my head “eyes are the genitals of the head” (may have that wrong, I’m watching the Office for the first time rn)

62. seven characters you relate to? Clementine from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind Amelie from Amelie Matilda from Matilda Quasimodo from the Hunchback of Notredame (also my favourite plush as a kid) Iris - The Holiday Jess - New Girl Amelia Shepherd - Grey’s Anatomy Struggled with this because suddenly I drew a blank and also couldn’t remember who my Fiance was talking about every time he’s watched a character and said “that’s you” repeatedly.

63. five songs that would play in your club? Starlight - Superman Lovers Pump It - Black Eyed Peas I Bet that You Look Good on the Dancefloor - Arctic Monkeys All the Things She Said - tATu Doctor Jones - Aqua Bonus: Push Up - Freestylers These are ones I have memories of dancing to when I was younger so that’s how I picked, but I’d absolutely be a themed night club with different music on different nights.

64. favorite website from your childhood? Neopets, which I still play daily. The first I played was MaMaMedia, then Bubblegum Club.

65. any permanent scars? That’s a SORE subject heh get it heh

66. favorite flower(s)? Lavender, rose, peony

67. good luck charms? I usually carry gemstones if I’m needing to be particularly lucky, or sigils.

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried? I hate anything spicy. I had rootbeer candy that tasted like literal dirt. I can’t eat banana stuff without gagging and getting a headache. I hate anything that is artificial blackberry or blackcurrant, tastes like shitty cough syrup.

69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned? Sea Monkeys breathe through their feet, but I remember where I learned that.

70. left or right handed? right

71. least favorite pattern? depends entirely on the colours, I like patterns. but certain stripes do make my eyes feel funny.

72. worst subject? If PE counts, then that. If not, math.

73. favorite weird flavor combo? I love pineapple on pizza but that’s not weird. Iused to eat cheese and jam sandwiches as a kid though.

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen? I operate on how long it has lasted instead of how bad it is, essentially I get so desperate so I’ll try it even though it probably won’t help. I have the resistance of a rhino to most meds.

75. when did you lose your first tooth? No idea, like 4 I think? I did keep them in a weird little box for no reason though because they never got taken away from under my pillow.

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)? I’m a fan of a good mash if it has lots of flavour (like gravy). Otherwise, crisps or fries.

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill? I grew a radish once! Something cat safe though these days, also maybe something heavy, and hard to knock over?

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store? Grocery Store sushi, if it’s just veg.

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo? My only ID is my passport, and it is BAD.

80. earth tones or jewel tones? Both.

81. fireflies or lightning bugs? Fireflies (ten million of them to be precise)

82. pc or console? Grew up with PC. Now play my switch mostly.

83. writing or drawing? Both. Wrote more as a kid, draw more now.

84. podcasts or talk radio? Podcasts.

84. barbie or polly pocket? Both. But I prefered pollies as a kid

85. fairy tales or mythology? mythology

86. cookies or cupcakes? cupcakes

87. your greatest fear? Based on my nightmares, stairs.

88. your greatest wish? To live in a comfy house, in the country, with my Fiance, I have travelled the world, we have pets, I can function, we are free.

89. who would you put before everyone else? My Fiance and out animals.

90. luckiest mistake? Can’t think of any, most of my mistakes have been more like bad choices, also never turned out well for me.

91. boxes or bags? Depends what it’s for?

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights? lamps, or fairy lights. Unless I’m particularly anxious, then overheads.

93. nicknames? None.

94. favorite season? Winter

95. favorite app on your phone? LINE, it has my fiance, and animated stickers.

96. desktop background? Little Twin Stars

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized? My own.

I never get asks and needed to distract myself so I’m going to just answer these anyway, like a survey or something. Original post by tr33-g1rl

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scribeofmorpheus · 5 years

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Himmeløyne [4/?]

Pairing: Loki Odinson x Reader

Words: 4k | Catch Up Here | Masterlist

Warnings: Mild violence, barely anything worth warning about tbh.

A/N: Despite the slow start, I can guarantee the next three chapters will heat up a bit. Also, I’m really excited to use Sif more narratively. I’m quite excited to see how the dynamic will be in the next chapter given our heroes current predicament at the end. Also, I apologize, this chapter defeated me, it’s not the best, but I had fun writing for Brokkr.

Taglist is open! Reblog, comment or leave a like please ☺

~Y/N

A row of guards took up defensive positions against you, moving around until you were surrounded in a circle. Loki had been subtly ramping up the difficulty of each sparring match after his defeat. This was simply another one of his stunts.

You dug your heels into the courtyards lawn. Your sparring party advanced like butterflies on a string, when one moved the other adapted, keeping the circle as perfectly formed as possible.

You deflected sword swings, axe thrusts, flinging daggers and shield bashes as deftly and gracefully as you could. You relied more on your light footing and magical abilities than brute force.

Once a soldier knocked you off balance or onto the ground, Sif would bang her sword onto her shield and shout sternly, "Again!"

You'd groan, roll your eyes and storm back into the fray. Each reset made your limbs feel heavy, each knock made your muscles ache and each time Sif banged on her shield you wanted to use your abilities to bang it against her stern face. Seeing her everywhere, cold eyes, grim line across her lips, each day, every day, was driving you slightly insane. And more than a little agitated.

Loki and Frigga were nowhere to be seen this morning. Loki had spent more time doing research since his defeat- he was undoubtedly sulking. For a god, he certainly had a flair for the dramatic. For a prince, his behaviour seemed appropriate.

Suddenly, a shield crashed into your chest and you left you feeling winded, knocking the air out your lungs.

"Ughhh!" You collapsed. The soldier retreated to his original position.

"Again!" Sif banged on her shield.

You rolled your eyes like clockwork.

"I need one damn minute," you tried to catch your breath.

"Your enemy won't give you the privilege of a respite. Again!"

Sif ordered louder than before.

"Gaaah!" You flung your hands from exasperation while still on your knees. What you hadn't intended to happen was cause several soldiers to hurtle backwards from a wave of air.

Sif took cover behind her shield and hunkered on one knee to stay in place. When she stood back up she looked at you with both disbelief and fear hiding behind anger.

"Oops, sorry." You rose your hands up cautiously, biting your lip to keep from laughing. An apologetic look making your eyes flutter wide-eyed. "Water break?"

All the men rose from their fallen positions and groaned in agreement, dropping their weapons onto the grass while they stretched out their joints. Sif stood back up and followed you to the water barrels.

~LOKI

Loki turned the page of the book hovering above the table without the use of his hands, legs crossed at the ankle on the table. His fingers were busy working on an octagonal puzzle piece, eyes fixed on the magic reflective pool that allowed him to keep an eye on Y/N while she sparred in the courtyard.

A pleased smile spread across his face when he saw her fling several soldiers through the air accidentally. The childish face she pulled when Sif scowled at her intrigued him. It was almost adorable.

"Why do you watch her so?" Frigga asked as she walked into the library.

"Curiosity," Loki admitted as he stopped toying with the puzzle, setting it down on the table and stretching from the stiffness that ached at his bent spine.

Frigga smiled, "I've seen you curious, and this isn't the same."

Loki stopped the magic that caused the pages to turn on the book, it slumped loudly onto the surface of the table as lifeless as it was supposed to be.

Loki rolled his eyes, "Is that why you tried to convince Father to let her stay? Why you made me teach her the ropes when we both know you'd be a better teacher? So you could play matchmaker?"

Frigga took a turn about the room, her hand gliding over each books leather-bound spine at shoulder level. "I simply want what's best for you."

Loki scoffed sarcastically, "Because Father would definitely approve."

"Besides, I thought that by giving you something to do you'd stop playing tricks on your poor brother. You know how much he despises your aptitude for… trickery."

"It's not my fault he's a boorish brute, too thick-headed to see through simple guises," Loki snaked.

Frigga used her magic to fling a book at his head, "Don't be so hard on him."

Loki ducked away from the on-coming book and it, in turn, gently placed itself back on the shelf.

Loki laughed, "He makes it too easy."

"One of these days, my son, someone will wipe that smirk from your face," Frigga said.

"Well, until then," Loki jumped off his seat and went to retrieve another book from the shelf. "I'll just have to ensure this handsome face finds reasons to smirk." He pointed at his lips as he flipped through pages, eyes narrowing when he saw something of interest. "If you'll excuse me, Mother, I have a mystery to solve."

"Don't undo the fabric of the universe," Frigga sighed before making her way to her chambers.

~Y/N

Your rest was uneasy, as was par for the course recently. Every time you shut your eyes, you were reminded of all the things you wished you could have forgotten. Smoke serpenting towards the moon; blood-stained snow; giants slashing bodies in half; marked blue skin; demon red eyes; a cold sharp implement serrating through your chest; drowning in blood.

Your mood had begun to suffer ever since you woke up in a strange world surrounded by the god-like beings you once revered.

It helped that most of your days were kept busy by training with Loki or doing research in the libraries, it was your time alone that you dreaded. You had even grown to find comfort in the ever-watchful gaze of your protector, Sif.

You had been tossing and turning all night. It was discomforting how invasive the light in Asgard could get. It may have been mesmerising each morning to awaken to such spectacular, brilliant skies, but it also got annoying when all you wanted to see when you closed your eyes was pitch black. The world here didn't turn to blackness like it did on Earth. There was always a lit lantern, a light shimmering, a star too bright.

Asgard's odd placement and flat surface in the universe meant that the sun didn't rise and fall as it did on earth, and yet the skies would grow darker as though it did. Magic, you assumed. However, its effectiveness was like covering your eyes with lace or a mesh cloth, light still got through the tiny holes.

When you finally conceded to your agitated mood and stopped trying to force yourself to sleep, you put on your long sheer cloak and made your way to a balcony that overlooked the waterfall at just the right angle. No buildings obstructing and a clear line of sight of the statue of Bor.

This was one of the few places where guards were scarce. Sif however, was lingering within the shadows a few paces away. No matter how much time passed, she never failed to watch you like a hawk, making you feel closed in and unwelcome some days.

Your frustration started to bubble to the surface and the leaves budding off the vines entwined around the balcony columns shivered from the outward ripple of your power.

You remembered one of Loki's key teachings and rolled your shoulders until they slumped back and your head was tilted to the star-speckled sky. You closed your eyes and took in several deep, slow breaths.

"Do you ever sleep?" You asked just loud enough for Sif to hear you.

After a beat, you heard her footsteps advance towards you until she was close enough to touch, her body showing signs of fatigue for the first time as she leaned against the balcony railing.

"That's a secret I'll never tell," her tone sounded alarmingly close to being amiable.

You were taken aback by her more approachable demeanour, Sif almost looked at ease. For once you didn't feel like a pariah surrounded by people who only looked at you with caution and fear, anticipating the worst from you. Maybe it was because you were used to Sif being the forbearer of such responses to your actions, it felt freeing to have her so close and not armed to the teeth.

"I barely sleep," you tried to get her to open up a bit more.

Sif kept her eyes locked straight ahead, "I know."

"You must be looking forward to the day Odin and Thor return. You won't have to hover over me through each waking moment."

"I am."

"Oh..." Her bluntness stung a little.

Sif noticed your posture droop, "I worry for them. I'm frustrated they chose not to take me with, but they had no problem taking those three idiots with."

"Them?"

"Hogun, Fandral and Volstagg… and Thor." Her lips flickered.

"Oh, the fabled Warrior's Three. My mother used to tell me tales of their adventures," you said with a bitter-sweet fondness.

"D- do you miss your family?" Sif seemed a little adamant to ask the question.

You swallowed hard, your hand touching the scar on your chest instinctively. You remembered everything with excruciating detail.

"With every breath."

"I can't begin to imagine..."

"Don't," your voice was a cold warning despite its low range.

Feeling the air turn stale with dread, Sif tried to shift the mood, "You should take up weapon practice. Magic, though powerful, has its limitations."

You played with your magic, prompting a bud to bloom under your touch. "What do you suggest?"

Sif thought long and hard, "It will take weeks for your arms to grow accustomed to Asgardian steel. I'm assuming most of your shields were fashioned from wood which means you've got the muscle for lighter materials. Perhaps a weapon with range. Something light and agile that won’t slow you down."

"My mother was an archer in her youth, taught me a thing or two about hunting," you spoke softly, reminiscing about the past.

Sif hummed in agreement, "A bow would be a perfect weapon for you. I believe the Dwarf blacksmith Brokkr is still here. We can speak to him about fashioning you a bow."

Sif pulled her night shawl around her arms, her braces covered by purple fabric.

"He's probably still in the tavern," she mused. "Care for a stroll?"

You were more than elated at the idea, "I have nothing better to do."

***

The tavern was saturated with the stench of mead and stale bread. In the corner, a bard played his minstrel with numbed fingers, nose and ears red from drink. The tune he played out was off on several notes and more than a little out of rhythm.

The bar-wench was wiping down the tables while men more sober than the patrons wheeled unopened casks of mead into a back room.

Even though you hadn't spent much time in taverns, this particular scene seemed homely to you. A smile crept onto your face. The bar-wench eyeing you suspiciously, but without the usual hints of fear.

"Wait here, I'll go ask Magda if she's seen Brokkr," Sif told you as she left to converse with the bar-wench.

You strolled around, eyeing each drunk burly sized man and woman that were half passed out on the furniture. The fireplace grabbed your attention, the thought of being showered by a million splinters made you shiver. You rubbed your eyes, starting when Sif tapped your elbow.

"She said they're in the back," Sif pointed to a doorway blocked off by some drapes in the back. "Here-" she pulled the hood of your cloak over your head. "Best not stir any suspicious eyes."

"What's back there?" You asked.

"That is where the Game of the Fates is played," she replied.

"Game of the Fates?"

"You'll see," Sif reassured you. "Magda says there's quite a crowd today. Don't wander off, you're still a stranger to most here."

Sif pried the dividing drape to the side, allowing you to slink through the small opening, she followed behind and you waited for her to lead the way.

In a dark corner to the south of the building, a rounded, muscly Dwarf with dreading hair and an unkempt beard running all the way down to his navel, sat on a set of small furnishings. His head in his hands as he burped into an empty clay jug with detailed depictions of Valkyrie's.

"Brokkr?" Sif asked, hunkering down on folded legs to keep the Dwarf's eye level.

"Begone, wench. I have no need for more ale," He waved her away without looking up.

Sif smiled and took his hand in her, applying pressure on his meaty thumb.

"Arrrg!" He reclined backwards.

"Do I look like a tavern-wench?" Sif said with patronising sweetness.

You smiled at her quiet display of brass.

"Lady Sif, forgive me, I didn't see you there." Brokkr snatched his hand away once Sif released it. "What brings you to my humble table?" He sneered, glancing at you with uncertainty.

"We'd like to commission a weapon," Sif said.

"A new sword eh? I see you're without your usual choice of weapons..." Brokkr banged his two metal bracelets together, sparking like firewood, and out of thin air, a sword of pure gold manifested in his open palms. "I call it Wyndel the Crooked, because of the curved edges." He handed it to her.

Sif eyed the magnificent piece of metalwork, the gold gleaming with the fire from the torches. She balanced the hilt and flicked the blade with her nail, a resonating ping spreading outward.

"This is impressive Brokkr, somehow I feel you've been holding out on me," Sif placed the sword on the table. "Gold isn't really my colour, though."

"No, but it's hers," Brokkr's eyebrows wiggled in your direction. His concentration focused on your eyes. "Never in my years have I seen such marvellous eyes. I know of a collector who would die to have them on display."

You gulped and took a small step back.

Brokkr's yellowing teeth flashed in full view as he laughed at your frightened expression, "Relax, lass. He is a far ways from here."

Sif slapped her palm on the table, "Stop terrorising her. Back to the matter at hand."

"Right, what weapon were you thinking?"

"A bow, something fashioned from wood. Light and balanced."

Brokkr stroked his braided beard, "A bow, eh? I haven't sculpted a bow since… Well, it's been too long to remember."

Brokkr reached over into his pocket and pulled out a pair of monocles, he then snatched your hand close, dragging you towards him with impressive strength.

"Hey!" you protested but Sif placed a hand on your elbow and gestured everything was okay.

"Dainty, long, a little bony," Brokkr laughed. "Small palm, unusually long fingernails. Hmmm, yes I can work with these." Brokkr's brows frowned as he pulled your palm closer to his monocles. "These lines-" He ran a fat finger across your palm lines.

"You are haunted by terrible dreams, but some of them aren't dreams. Some haven't come to pass. Loss, pain, anger... death!" His eyes snapped to yours with wiry intensity.

You pulled back and forced your hand out of his, Brokkr stared lifelessly for a moment before turning back to Sif and regaining his relaxed posture from before. "I can have a bow ready in two days."

Feeling unnerved by what just transpired you leaned close to Sif and whispered, "I don't think I can be near him right now, I'm going to look around."

Sif nodded, "Remember not to wander too far, I am going to try and haggle a discount from this prideful fruit-cake."

You left Sif and Brokkr behind, their hushed arguing growing more and more heated the further you walked. Drawn to a gathering crowd, you pushed your way through in an effort to see what all the commotion was about.

You heard the rattle of dice inside a cup as a familiar voice spoke out coyly, "Do you honestly think your Warrior will strike down my Champion?"

A deeper, controlled voice responded, "You bestowed the favour of cunning, but not all know how to wield it as skillfully as you, my prince."

When you made your way through, you recognised Loki, sitting on a stool, fingers tapping on his lips as though he was contemplating something. The darker man beside him seemed familiar, like seeing a reflection in passing, but you couldn't say for sure if you'd ever seen him before. The two-horned helmet resting beside his sword close to his feet gave you some idea of who he might be. His gold eyes shooting in your direction, brow furrowed, jaw clenching.

You felt like you had imposed on something important, his gaze making the hair stand on your neck. You nearly fumbled out of the crowd, but Loki spotted you and rose from his stool with a great smile on his face.

"Ah, if it isn't my favourite student, Y/N," He pulled a chair out from under a spectator using a flush of magical energy, causing the poor man to tumble to the floor. "Please, sit. Join us."

You gulped, afraid to hold contact with those golden eyes, "I don't want to impose."

"Nonsense, Heimdall doesn't mind. Do you?" Loki arched a brow at the man opposite him.

Heimdall let out a huff of air, extending his hand to the chair, "Not at all."

You sat and watched the men play a game that comprised of dice, a board, a large brass bowl with leaves burning in blue flame and several carved statuettes.

"What is this?" You whispered to Loki.

He leaned close and placed his pinkie finger on your knee as he explained in a scheming manner. Heimdall narrowed his eyes disapprovingly, making Loki's smile grow wider.

"It's called the Game of the Fates. Each carved figure is unique to each… err, we'll use the word God for lack of a better term. They represent a being we have seen fit to bestow a blessing on to try and shift the balance of fate in their favour."

Your mouth opened in a small O shape as you tried to keep track.

Loki continued, "The dye is rolled to determine whose turn it is. We each pick a number and the one who chose the number closest to the one shown on the pair of dye takes their turn. Then they stare into the flame and it reveals what has transpired, like a window through space. The one who tilts the balance in their favour the most wins."

"Wins?" You asked, almost hurt. "Sounds like you're playing with the lives of mortals, intervening with the course of action."

Loki chuckled, "Isn't that why mortals pray to us."

You squinted your eyes at Loki but you had to reconcile the fact that he had a good point, "What does the winner get in return?"

"All sorts of things," Loki removed his finger from your knee after Heimdall stared daggers at him. "In this case, we bet a secret. If I win, Heimdall gets to reveal his secret."

"And if you lose?"

This time Heimdall was the one to speak up, "Then I get to set some ground rules."

"Shall we?" Loki asked Heimdall.

Heimdall nodded.

Your eyes absentmindedly wandered to the blue flame. It began to dance and skirt, forming enflamed pictures. Then that horrid blue face with those devoid red eyes screamed at you through the fire and you felt something powerful free itself from your chest.

The sensation was so powerful you started to lean to the side, on the verge of collapsing. Heimdall tried to steady you, but as soon as his skin came in contact with yours, a golden curtain closed over your eyes as burning visions flowed into your synapses.

A smile over pink lips, laurel wreath crowning wild curls, two palms pressed together: one dark the other light. Eyes as blue as yours staring back at you.

"Mother?" You gasped within the waking dream. She didn't hear you or see you.

She was young then, younger than you ever remembered her being. The vision was off, like a memory fallen to age and constantly made to look brighter and seem more colourful.

Then your own memories mixed in and suddenly you were back on the cold ground with a sword in your chest, red eyes looking down at you in disgust.

"It's here, I can almost taste it!" The frost-giant said to someone you couldn't see

You focused on those eyes that reflected your pooling blood at you. It was as though you were willing yourself back to that point, all the anger clawing to be free, to undo the past and kill this giant that stared down at you before he could try and kill you.

Through the rush of rage, you felt your power drawing from another magical source. An older and much darker one. Through the confusion, two more hands braced around you and then you were falling through a spillway of colour.

***

"Y/N," You felt someone’s fingers lightly tapping against your cheek. "Y/N, wake up."

The cold icy feel of snow seeping through your cloak forced your snipe to shoot upwards, eyelids flying open as you took in the unfamiliar surroundings.

"What? Where?" You tried to get the words out but you were too distraught to think straight.

"You opened a portal and took us with you," Sif relaxed back into the snow, Brokkr's golden sword next to her.

"I should have warned you," Loki walked from one edge of the cliff-face to the next, trying to get his bearings. "Never stare into the flames. They show you what it is you most desire to see. When Heimdall tried to steady you, I think you leeched onto his latent powers. He can open portal-ways, but it takes a tremendous amount of energy."

"I don't think I desired this," you searched the horizon for a landmark. "I don't even know where we are."

"Well, we aren't on Asgard anymore," Sif said.

"Judging by all this mist and how cold and dark everything looks, I think we're on Niflheim," Loki squinted across the landscape of mountains and snow and ice that stretched forever. No sign of life or civilisation.

Sif stood from the snow and shouted to the sky, "Heimdall, if you can hear us, open the bi-frost! Heimdall!"

"He can't see us," Loki said nonchalantly.

"What do you mean he can't see us?" Sif demanded.

"It's because of her," Loki pointed at you. "She bears a mark of Odin. I believe your people call it the Ægishjalmar?"

You nodded, "It's a protective marking, all the women in my family have it."

"That's a half-truth," Loki snorted. "It is a protection spell, just not from harm."

You stood to look him directly in the eye, "Then what is it?"

"What is the one thing a God, as you like to call us, would ever think mortals needed protecting from?" He asked.

"Their own kind," Sif groaned as she swung the sword at a rock in frustration. "It's a masking spell. That's why Heimdall never saw the attack. And that's why he won't be able to see us!" She kicked the snow next.

"Why would Odin try and mask my existence from your kind?" You asked the two Asgardian's.

"You're a witch and a powerful one. Whatever the source of your power-" Loki moved your cowl over your shoulder so his fingers could grace over the brand on your forearm. A shiver ran across your arm sending tingles of electricity through you. You pulled away and Loki tilted his head to the side, his face confused by the strange electric current that passed through you both. "That is probably the reason."

"Okay, then it's simple," Sif stormed over to you. "You just have to open another portal."

"I don't know how. As I said, I've never been here before," you said with annoyance. "I can barely fight let alone conjure enough power to open a portal through worlds!"

A flash of blue light swept through the snow around you, blowing it away to form a perfect circle around your knees as you crashed to the ground feeling helpless.

"The flames show you what you desire to see," Loki kneeled next to you. "What is it you desire?"

"To see my mother again."

"No, pet," He lifted your chin. "That is what you wish for, not what you truly desire. What is it that drives you each moment of every day?"

Anger flashed through you, a glow reflecting through Loki's calm eyes letting you know your eye colour had turned into a burning azure, bright and fierce.

"I want to kill him," you said through gritted teeth. "I want to feel the life leave his body. I want to destroy them all!"

Wisps of blue smoke snaked around you causing Loki and Sif to lean away from you. The mountain beginning to rumble. You screamed in frustration, another ripple of power bursting through you. The cliff shook and the snow was thrust into the open air to form an artificial snowfall. A stream of blue light burning a hole through the grey clouds, acting like a flame in the dark.

"She probably tracked the essence of the frost giant that tried to kill her," Loki whispered to Sif.

"For once, Loki, I agree with you," Sif brandished the golden sword Wyndel with two hands as she looked down the hill.

Having spotted the miraculous burst of light, the Jotuns had gathered below the cliff-face, weapons in hand, red eyes filled with fear and surprise. They were a scouting party, probably stationed here to ambush someone.

Loki rolled his eyes, "Typical. All I wanted to do was play a harmless game of Fates!"

You walked over to Loki's side, "I suppose this is good a reason as any to put my skills to the test."

Loki sighed and retracted his arms, small daggers falling into his palms from their hiding place up his sleeve.

"Yay," he said dryly. "Let's go fight some giants."

Sif sighed, “The one day I decide to leave my weapons behind.”

~HEIMDALL

Heimdall gasped in shock as he saw Loki, Sif and Y/N disappear right before him into a portal. When he had felt his daughter’s powers leeching from his own, he had urged Sif and Loki to help pry her from him, but in turn, they had been sucked in too.

All the eyes in the tavern were a mixture of drunk confusion, shock and fear.

“Hey, where did you send them?” Brokkr demanded. “That mean warrior took my sword with her!”

Heimdall stood hastily as he made his way to the palace in search of Frigga.

Chapter Five

Tags: @mejohanssonwrites @tarynkauai @wanderlust-travler @ladybugsfanfics @electroma89 @texmexdarling @fire-in-her-veinz

Permatags: @gruffle1 @thechickvic @notawarriorjustyet @savethehoneeybees

#loki x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki imagine #loki #marvel imagine #loki laufeyson #heimdall #frigga #sif #original characters #loki fic #Himmeløyne fic #asgard

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earlgreytea68 · 5 years

Note

You have lured me into Fall Out Boy fics & I've super loved yours. Can you rec some other authors or fics?

OMG YES HERE ARE SOME FICS TO CHECK OUT: (this is an incomplete list with poor tagging but it’s something!)

AllOur Stars Aligned (Put Love on Hold) by two_ravens and @xaritomene:REGENCY AU. This was the first Pete/Patrick fic I ever read, knowing nothingabout them, and I fell so hard for Pete in this fic that I spent the entire dayafter I read it doing nothing but reading about Pete Wentz and watchinginterviews with him. I love this fic because it’s so deliciously long, it letsyou just descend into it, and it doesn’t skimp on the flirting, you get tolisten in on every conversation as they fall for each other, IT’S THE BEST ANDCOULD HAVE GONE ON FOREVER.

TheBoys Time Can’t Capture by scarredsodeep: Honestly, readEVERYTHING by scarredsodeep, it’s all incredible, but this one is my particularfavorite. In which Pete is a faerie and somehow it makes more sense than Petebeing a human.

There’s acategory of fics where Pete and Patrick decide they can totally be friends withbenefits and that’s going to work out great. Here’s one:

LongLive the Car Crash Hearts by neery

There are alsolots of fics that play around with time travel, which maybe makes sense giventhe longevity of the band and of Pete and Patrick’s relationship:

SomewhereYou Exist by @leyley09

Good God I Wish I Was Back in My Time by impertinence

singlike silver bells do by the_ragnorak: a sweet ace fic

Graffiti bymegyal: Flirting through graffiti.

CallIt Enough by joyfulseeker: ugh, silly sweet boys

Full Frontal Assault by ladyfoxxx: silly sweet boys is totally a genre

The Littlest Emo by @druscilla: de-aging fic

Care for anAU? Here are some where they’re still involved with music but not following theFOB story:

ALittle Infamy by ladyfoxxx: Who’s a soul-voiced singer to turnto when he needs to leak a sex tape? Pete Wentz, of course!

TheTruth About Patrick by ladyfoxxx: Falling in love withPatrick’s voice before falling in love with Patrick.

ThisSeed Burst and Grown by sena: In which Patrick falls in lovewith an older guy.

TheFeral by @glitterandrocketfuel: I’m not a huge Omegaverseperson but I loved this one.

TheAntidote to Everything (Except for Me) by snitchesandtalkers:This is tagged midwestern gothic and that’s a perfect description.

ThoseWords, That Kiss, That Bottle by snitchesandtalkers: Lovepotion!

When You Wake Up, the World Will Come Around by snitchesandtalkers: single dad AU

If you likeyour AUs farther afield, I’ve got those for you, too!

Tellthe Boys Where to Find My Body by dear_monday and two_ravens:assassin! AU. Wherein Patrick falls for his target, of course.

BeWentzed bylenore: If you like my devil story, this is the flip, wherein Pete is the Devilseducing Patrick.

AccidentsWill Happen by @melusina: Bakery AU.

ClandestineBoys (Have Nothing to Hide) by fictionalaspect: I find that somany fics with sexy premises, like this porn studio AU, actually turn out to bethe sweetest things.

ThePros and Cons of Skiing by fro_baby: Skiing AU.

Heavenand Hell Are Empty; This Is Limbo by trickstartmonk: Anotherdemon AU!

LovingHim Was Red by folie_aplusieurs: This is a fairy tale with aTaylor Swift title, be still my heart.

Hellor High Water by the_chaotic_panda: Kind of obsessed with thispirate AU.

Clothes Off! by girlpearl, melusina, Pennyplainknits: strip club AU fake news article

bang bang into the room (i know you want it) by endquestionmark and soaringrachel: and more strip club AU

Umbrellas Over Ducks by abriata: arranged marriage

Fivehead and the Velociraptor by impertinence: Beauty and the Beast AU

THIS FANDOMHAS SO MANY FAKE DATING FICS AND THEY’RE ALL FANTASTIC here are a few andhonestly, these are just the ones I randomly chose:

I 4 U& U 4 Me by @melusina

TheSubstitute Boyfriend by @melusina

SugarDaddy (We’re Goin’ Down) by @jedusaur

You’re Still Worth Fighting For (No One Has to Know) by Hum My Name (My_Kind_Of_Crazy)

Also so manylovely college AUs, here’s one:

Wanted:Piano Lesson by emeraldcitydowntowngirl

And one that’s college AND fake dating!

i spend my money on the regular miracles by endquestionmark

Maybe you justwant something a little smutty:

we’refriends when you’re on your knees by @sceptick

ThisIs my Pity Party by @secretstudentdragonblog

Bad Decision Time by jiksa

If, like me,you love a good WiP:

PowerOn by folie_aplusieurs: Robots!

super!duper!clueless!series by @trickstartmonk: superhero AU!

stuckin the sunshine by @justtothesea: Good Place AU!

StripteaseWith a Difference by Das_verlorene_kind: Kind of fake dating,tbh.

TheWrong Side of Paradise by the_chaotic_panda: fantasy!

FromNow On We Are by Hum My Name (My_Kind_of_Crazy): also fakedating!

ThereIs a Light That Never Goes Out by Das_verlorene_kind: In whichPatrick has antlers and Pete has a tail.

#long post #bandom #peterick #fall out boy #Anonymous

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rycbar-horcrux · 5 years

Note

flower crowns and nature + belexa is sending me to happy land tbh. ahhhhhh, they must be so happy. correct me if im wrong but lexi would be the one to fall asleep i think? i can just picture bex pushing a strand or two out of her face and just smiling at lexi’s restful face while she leans in to peck her on the cheek, but gently so as not to disturb her.

It sends me to happy land too, and you’re right, they are so happy. 😊 Just two dopes in love and spending some quiet time together. Ugh okay, you’ve twisted my arm so here’s my random ramblings about this whole little moment.

Okay, so the way I’m imagining things is that they’ve had a tough couple of days. They had a heist go wrong, not out of a lack of planning or a bad plan, but because someone was in the wrong place at the wrong time and was able to raise the alarm. As a result they decided that it was best to lay low for a while whilst the heat dies down. But that’s mostly cos they know that if they get caught they’ll be shipped off to the big house and most likely split up. And if we’ve learned anything by this point, it’s that the pair would hate that. It’s not so bad at first, but after a few days, frustration is definitely building. Bex is faring well enough, her plants plus planning for the next heist keeping her busy but Lexi not so much.

Bex bit back a sigh of her own as Lexi’s sigh echoed around the quiet room for what must be at least the fifth time in as many minutes. The sound was a little muffled, as if Lexi had tried to conceal it, but once again it was an action that proved unsuccessful. Bex’s eyes remained fixed on the blueprints in front of her as she heard the sound of the remote being tossed aside before footsteps rang out as Lexi stood and moved around. Mentally counting down, a small wry smile flitted across her face as the sound of Lexi slumping back down reached her ears right as she hit zero. Dropping her pencil for the moment, Bex dragged a hand tiredly down her face before resting her head on it, turning to watch Lexi from her space at the table. As she’d suspected, the other girl was sprawled along the couch, staring morosely in the direction of the window. She was like a sad little flower, all droopy and colours dulled, not having received the vital components necessary for it to thrive. Draped across it’s living space, but having resigned itself to not getting what it wants for the time being.

Bex definitely understood how she felt. Her plants and planning had kept her mind occupied for longer than they had Lexi’s, but their self imposed imprisonment was beginning to grate on her nerves. Her eyes continued to run over Lexi’s form as her thoughts continued, bouncing around her head much like Lexi had taken to bouncing around their home. Usually the walls that surrounded them were a comfort to Bex- a kind of safe place for her and Lexi, their own little world away from everything else- but apparently you could have too much of a good thing. As much as Bex loved spending time with Lexi, a part of her longed to feel the warm sun directly on her skin, a slight breeze blowing through her hair, or even some cool drops of rain soaking her completely. With a small shake of her head Bex pulled her eyes away from the window they had drifted to and back to Lexi who had picked the remote back up and was now spinning it between her two hands. Her shoulders were tight with tension and Bex knew that it was only a matter of time before she would fling the remote aside and the energy became too much for her small body to remain still again. Then the pacing would resume, like a captured animal pacing the space that it was contained to.

Then again, it had been a couple of days now, maybe, just maybe… Bex straightened in thought as the seeds of an idea planted in her head, firmly taking root and blossoming as she sprinkled it with attention. She glanced quickly at the window, before returning her attention to Lexi.

“Right, c’mon then Lexi.”

As Bex pushed herself upright and away from the table Lexi’s eyes spun around to meet hers, question written all over her face.

“I think we’ve spent long enough inside and we deserve a break.”

“But you said it would be best to lay low for a while. It’s broad daylight and for all we know they might still be looking for us.”

Having now reached the couch, Bex paused looking down at Lexi and taking in the conflicted look that crossed her face.

“They might,” she conceded with a small nod, “But I think it might have been long enough. I’m sure someone else has flung themselves into the spotlight by now. Besides the place I’ve got in mind is quiet.” She stretched a hand out towards Lexi before she finished, “Trust me?”

Lexi met her eyes straight on, hand already in Bex’s before she replied, her voice ringing with sincerity, “Always.” She cleared her throat, letting Bex pull her to her feet before she spoke again, voice now lighter, “Lead the way then, Bex.”

So they end up in the car, comfortable silence filling the space between them as Bex drove, with Lexi taking in everything passing them by as they head out of the city. And Bex could tell that Lexi’s confusion had been building, coming to a head as they pulled up seemingly in the middle of nowhere, but the other girl kept quiet. The trust was visible in Lexi’s eyes as she rounded the car to meet her, gently linking their hands again. Neither broke the silence as Bex lead the way, tugging Lexi away from the road and through trees. It took a few minutes of winding movement before the trees gave way into open space, a river visible beyond the small plain of grass in front of them. The pair come to a halt as the shade was lost and bright sunlight hit them again, a small content sigh escaping Bex as she took in the sight that met them.

It had been a while since she had been there but the sight proved to be just as breathtaking as always. The way the water sparkled and glittered as the sunlight danced across it. The vibrant green grass that was broken up by a myriad of colour created by the wildflowers that had claimed the area as home. The buttercups and the bluebells, the daisies and the geraniums, as well as the irises that lay closer to the river, to name but a few. Beyond the river, fields of green greeted her eyes, seeming to go on as far as the eye could see.

“It’s beautiful.”

The small, barely there words broke through her thoughts. Unable to resist, Bex turned her head, taking a moment to take Lexi in.

The Lexi that stood next to her was a marked improvement on the one of not long ago. It was as if her entire being had lightened and straightened, almost like a flower in the face of the sun. Face tilted slightly towards it, letting the rays wash over her, the light rejuvenating her to her former self. Bex took in the way Lexi’s shoulders had dropped, previous tension having seeped away. Then there was the way her eyes sparkled in the sunlight. The smile that tugged at the corner of her lips as well as the look of almost wonder as she took the sight in.

Her own lips curled into a small unbidden smile as she continued to look at her, thumb gently caressing the back of Lexi’s hand as she spoke. “Yeah, beautiful.”

The two then spent some time wandering alongside the river, Lexi occasionally pausing to pick flowers, and getting Bex to tell her all about them. Other than their voices, the area was mostly quiet; just far enough away from the road that any car passing by goes unheard. In fact there was only the gentle sound of the flowing water, along with the occasional splash be it from a fish or a family of ducks, as well as the sounds of passing wildlife - Nature’s own little song - to punctuate the silence, lulling them further into a sense of tranquility. After a while the pair ended up collapsed on the grass, arms wrapped around one another as they lay. They spent some time taking in the clouds above, playfully arguing over what each one looked more like, and whether the other was looking at it upside down. But other than that the pair remained quiet, taking the time to just enjoy the moment.

Before she’d realised it, the weight on her shoulder had gradually grown heavier and turning, Bex discovered that Lexi had fallen asleep. Bathed in the glow of the sun, her face seemed to have grown even more peaceful as she found her rest. Bex practically marvelled at the sight of her girl, it truly was something that she’d never get enough of. She was broken from her thoughts as Lexi sighed softly and shifted slightly, pressing her face closer towards Bex’s neck, a few strands of hair falling across her face in the process. They were quickly tucked securely behind Lexi’s ear with a care that spoke of a well practiced hand before Bex dropped a quick gentle kiss to the now uncovered cheek.

As a sudden mental image flashed through her mind she had to bite her tongue to contain her laughter. It was surprisingly apt, Lexi definitely looked much more like one of those disney princesses that she was so fond of as opposed to a chaotic supervillain at the moment.

Bex’s very own Sleeping Beauty.

She was almost tempted to lean back down and press a kiss to those lips, see if the tale was true and the princess would awaken, but managed to hold herself back, not wanting to risk disturbing her.

Well, if there was one thing that she knew, it was that a princess deserved a crown. And Lexi? Well, if you asked Bex, she deserved the grandest one of all. So she eyed the bundle of collected flowers before quietly getting to work. Her task proved a little bit more difficult than usual seeing as she kept her arm wrapped snugly around Lexi’s waist, but she made it work. Soon she was carefully sliding the completed crown down onto Lexi’s head, twisting it slightly to ensure that it was sitting just right. Satisfaction filled her as she took in her work, pleased with how the whole thing turned out. She couldn’t wait to see the other girl’s reaction.

With a final look at Lexi, Bex let her eyes drift shut, the warm rays of the sun, along with the comforting press of Lexi against her proving to be too much for her to fight. And so the two lay gently holding one another, hidden away from any prying eyes by the surrounding trees as the sun and perhaps Nature itself watched over them.

And maybe when Bex woke up it was to find herself still entwined with Lexi, the flower crown still in place, but a small flower chain now gracing her own wrist. A simple but delicate little thing made up mostly of daisies, but some forget-me-nots also twisted in too.

And maybe they don’t really need to say anything; Bex’s soft look as Lexi’s hand slides down her wrist, gently running over the flower chain as she continues down to interlace their fingers and Lexi’s wide but slightly bashful grin as Bex reaches up to straighten her crown saying absolutely everything they could ever want to.

#god rainy you're out here reading my mind #it was actually so eerie reading that ask and it hitting so close to my thoughts #actually wait a minute #if you can read my mind does that mean i should stop rambling about these two?#hmmm 🤔#ooh and for the record #i'm usually rubbish at relating songs to things #but maybe listen to louis armstrong's what a wonderful world and read this #i think it gives a whole extra softness to bex's feelings #and just the whole thing in general tbh #came on my shuffle and seemed ridiculously apt #plus i might have mentioned it a bit before #but i'm gonna say it here anyways #definitely bears repeating #whilst lexi finds some of the flower stuff interesting #she's not super into it #or well at least not on bex's scale #but there's just something about the way bex talks about them #the light in her eyes #the excited way she gestures and the way she speaks #it's just utterly captivating to lexi #she could listen to her go on for *hours* without tire #she really could #not only that but she'd encourage her to keep going i think #just imagine harley quinn lexi with heart eyes as bex talks about all manner of plants #nodding along but only giving each plant a glancing look #eyes stuck on Bex’s face #gotham city au #belexa #danskwad

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tawneybel · 5 years

Text

Okay, I haven’t written a personal post in a while because I’ve been focused on schoolwork. Right now I’m super busy with a project where I have to read and evaluate lots of research articles. :( At least my academic writing is improving.

Ugh, I accidentally deleted my extensive review of Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux. It was a really good book and I finished that page turner months ago. It’s easy to see why it has numerous adaptations and has influenced countless media in the Anglosphere alone. Perhaps even Heathers and Saw, what with the Erik’s plan to explode the opera house and the rosy hours of Mazenderan.

Sadly, the rest of Leroux’s bibliography seems to only be well known in French-speaking places. When I get around to getting a passport and go to Quebec I might duck into a library real quick. Even though she’s my fave mystery writer, I gotta read more detective fiction other than Agatha Christie.

For something rated PG, The Dark Crystal sure is dark. Not as bad The Adventures of Mark Twain being G-rated, though. I prefer its spiritual successor, Labyrinth. If I’d seen Labyrinth as a child that would have become one of my favorite movies, up there with Alice in Wonderland 1951 and The Wizard of Oz. Audiences need less CGI, more puppetry and animatronics!

I kind of want a Skeksis. (And maybe a Fizzgig, too.) Buzzards get a bad rap. We get flocks of turkey vultures and they’re kind of cute despite the smelliness. Let them scavenge! From now on, whenever I want the last slice of pizza or something: “TRIAL BY STONE!”

“Watch your tongue, harridan, we are lords of the Crystal.” Next time I roleplay I’m going to try to get the bae to say something like that to me.

When Aughra sat down in front of the Skeksis table, I honestly thought she was going to go to the bathroom. XD She and Kira were my favorite characters, though. Are wings like the Gelfling equivalent of b00bs?

The God Emperor of Dune was kind of a let down. And I couldn’t get into Heretics at all. When I was in middle school I checked out one of those but I can’t remember which then years later I read both Dune and Dune Messiah twice. I’m not sure if “get” Dune now but they were definitely too advanced for young teen Tawney.

Ever since I found out The Grim Adventures of Billy & Mandy parodied this franchise, I wanted to read Dune. “Mandy the Merciless” and the gom jabbar from “My Fair Mandy” are so much funnier now.

1,000+-year-old Leto’s slow transformation into a giant sandworm monster was something I was expecting to be hot but it was eh. Obviously, Frank Herbert didn’t intend for it to be bodacious. However, there are certain charming aspects to the Tyrant.

“Do not search for parts of me which no longer exist. Some forms of physical intimacy are no longer possible for me.” (But can Leto Atreides still perform cun/nilngus?)

“Everything about her reaffirmed his awareness that she was precisely the kind of woman who, if he had grown to normal manhood, he would have wanted (No! Demanded!) as his mate.” (Kind of jealous of Hwi, TBH.)

He looks like this in one of the miniseries:

One of my friends came over and got introduced to A Nightmare on Elm Street. The first time I watched that movie, I hadn’t really watched any other slashers. Now I can say Nancy is one of my fave final girls.

Some highlights from our commentary:

“Everybody runs stupidly in this movie. Is that Freddy’s k!nk?”

“How the f*ck could someone…” “We’re sw!ngers, Nancy!”

“How can [Glen] be h0rny at a time like this?” “Anyone can be h0rny on main if they try hard enough.”

“You look deep in thought.” “I am. I want to know the lore.” “If I ever get cheated on, I’m going to say ‘You’re deep in thot!’”

“I just want my hat and glove back. I feel so nak3d without them.”

The first shot of A Clockwork Orange had me hooked. I loved the sets so much. The book was on my to read list and then the kid who sat next to me in Latin showed me why he was having trouble reading it. That futuristic slang. After watching the film, its source is back on the list. At least everyone talks normally once Alex goes to prison.

I like when fictional gangs wear “go to hell” clothes but those were douchesuits Alex and his buddies were wearing. I’m glad he got whacked in the balls. Even if it was by the creepy Mr. Deltoid. Well, he’s -nowhere- near as bad as the protagonist. Alex is an interesting character because he’s amusing but possesses zero likability. And you don’t even feel sorry for him. There was something really satisfying about seeing him bl00dy on the ground. How the hell did he convince those two girls at the record store to go back with him for speed s3x?

More commentary highlights:

“This happens in real life.” “In those outfits?!” “Yes.”

“They’re not very nice people.” “Why would you say that?” “He’s p33ing in front of us.”

*Alex has his hands down his drawers* “Look at that!” “I’d rather not.”

*cat lady doing her stretches* “Do you think she’d get along with Angela [Martin]?”

*discussing the sculpture* “How do you think Malcolm McDowell explains this in interviews?”

Sleeping Beauty was rewatched for the first time since I was very young. It was one of my favorite Disney movies but Aurora wasn’t my favorite princess. That honor went to Ariel. Now I’d say Tiana and Belle are my faves because they get stuff done. I want Disney to go back to cartoon fairy tales sooo bad. Aurora’s sweet and likable but her godmothers are more interesting. I want Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather merch now. Also, was that the broom from Fantasia?

Maleficent and her minions apparently don’t meet up with her often enough to properly confer information. XD She’s into b0ndage and I ship her with Phillip now. Somehow the fact the prince was a total babe went over my head. He was kind of handsy with Briar Rose during their first meeting, though.

Lifechanger couldn’t really hold my attention, which is a shame because I love shapeshifting so much. I expected the MC to possess his victims but it’s okay he didn’t. But the absorption could have been more unsettling, they could have shown more of it.

This post is getting long so I’ll write about The Silence of the Lambs and Scream: Resurrection in the next one.

Song of the Day: “Riding” by Tiny Jag and “Girl in the Machine” by Dedderz.

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notveryglittery · 6 years

Note

“i’m scared.” for the sentence starter, and three guess what ship I want XD The first two don't count (R O Y A L I T Y)

this is the angstiest thing i’ve ever written, tbh. @thesocialbookwormishere it also got a bit long, so it’s under a read more!words: 1.6k // ships: romantic royalitytw: mention of spiders, possession, swords, daggers, fighting

“roman,” patton implores, voice shaking. “roman, please.“

his eyes are glazed over, devoid of emotion and unseeing. he holds his sword with a white knuckled grip and he moves slowly but surely and it is wrong wrong wrong—

(the first sign of something going wrong was the rain. the skies had been clear and blue; it was a guarantee that their quest wouldn’t take any longer than necessary due to inclement weather. they’d been laughing and joking, enjoying themselves and the prospect of their reward, when they finally made it out of the forest. virgil, ever aware of his surroundings, noticed first.

“why’s it so dark?” he asked, tilting his head back to look up — a raindrop landed heavy on the tip of his nose. it was the first of many and suddenly, they were standing in the middle of a downpour. with reactions varying from startled to excited to disgruntled, they sought cover in a nearby cave. logan started a fire while patton went through their packs to make sure nothing important had gotten wet.

“a slight detour!” roman exclaimed, unfazed.)

the crown nestled in roman’s hair glitters in the firelight. the gems embedded in it are glowing purple. it looks sharp and dangerous and patton wants to tear it from his head. logan is unconscious on the ground. virgil stands between patton and logan. he has an arm wrapped around his waist, his breathing shallow and uneven.

“patton,” he hisses, wincing. “we need to go.”

“you’d have me leave him?” patton asks and there is such sorrow in his tone, guilt and misery and fear. “take logan. get as far away with him as you can.”

“patton,“ virgil repeats, desperate.

(“patton!” roman called, excited. “will you come exploring with me?!”

virgil and logan sat by the fire, wringing out their wet cloaks. patton shrugged his off and laid it flat on the ground beside them. he gave them each a pat on the head before skipping over to where roman stood. the cavern went back further and their shadows flickered along the walls.

“don’t go too far,” virgil warned.

roman dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “we’ll be fine! patton’s got me, the bravest of us all, and i’ve got patton, the best healer in all the land!”

“aww, roman,” patton cooed, blushing slightly. he retrieved a torch and lit it, holding it out towards the darkness. “let’s see what we can find, shall we?”

roman marched onward and patton turned to give logan and virgil a small wave.

“we’ll be back before you know it,” he promised, “who knows! there might be treasure!” and with that, he followed roman into the unknown.)

with a grunt, virgil lifts logan off the ground, and throws him over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “i’m coming back for you, patton,” he swears.

patton dismisses him with a wave of his hand. “i’ll be fine. go.”

roman — or whatever it is controlling roman — has paused. he watches the interaction curiously, though it is hard to tell with the blank expression on his face. patton advances slowly, taking a step closer. he moves one hand to the pouch at his waist.

“roman,” he says, steady and strong and pleading. “i know you’re in there. i know you’re stronger than this.”

for a moment, nothing happens. then, a smile stretches roman’s lips into something harsh and cruel. “he isn’t, though,” and it is roman’s voice but there is more beneath it, old and powerful and angry.

(after knocking out a few disgruntled cave spiders (even patton, terrified of the creatures, didn’t like the idea of killing them when it was roman and himself intruding in the first place), they did indeed come upon a small pile of treasure. it wasn’t much: a few handfuls of gold pieces, some nice bracers, a quiver filled with arrows, and a crown. patton convinced roman to not put any of it on so that logan could take a look at it first. roman, eyeing the headwear curiously, had begrudgingly agreed.

it took less time to get back and when they did make it, logan and virgil were in the middle of divvying up their food. patton chattered excitedly about their short trek, giving the two a share of the gold. logan was examining the arrows to see whether any had special qualities to them when virgil shouted in alarm.

patton turned to see what the problem was. roman’s impatience had got the best of him and before any of the others could prevent it, he was putting the crown on. there was hardly a second between the action and the consequence. roman fell to one knee, clutching his head.

“roman!” patton cried but logan had him by the wrist before he could move any closer.

“steady, patton,” he warned.)

“let him go,” patton demands.

the only response patton is graced with is roman lunging at him, sword prepared to strike. with a yelp, he ducks and rolls out of the way. landing beside the arrows logan had been investigating, patton looks around desperately — there! the only warning he has to roman’s next attack is the sound of his boots scuffing along the ground. patton dodges it, barely, and snatches logan’s bow from where it’d been dropped.

he… he is not an archer. logan has shown him once or twice how to nock an arrow but he’d never had the strength or patience to shoot it safely. this is not preferable but if worse comes to worse…

“i won’t let you have him!” patton snarls, free hand darting once more to the pouch at his waist. here, he waits, for roman to approach once more.

“oh?” asks the entity possessing roman, wearing still that terribly eerie smile. “i would like to see you try and take him back.” with a shout, he advances.

(in a blur of movement, virgil dashed forward and aimed to knock the crown off of roman’s head with one of his daggers. it wasn’t the safest of ideas, but he’d rather not touch the headdress with his bare hands. before he could, though, roman stood with unnatural speed, and drew his sword. virgil skidded to a stop, just barely avoiding the blade as it swung towards his stomach.

“ro, knock out of it!” virgil snapped.

an arrow went whizzing by the pair, missing roman’s shoulder by centimeters. logan stood in front of patton, eyes narrowed. “we’ll have our friend returned to us now, thank you.”

roman rose his free hand and snapped his fingers. the jewels set in the crown lit up, flashing violet, and a wave of dark energy rippled outwards. it knocked virgil off of his feet. logan stepped completely in front of patton and took in full an attack meant for two. patton screamed as logan collapsed, unconscious.)

the moment roman is close enough, patton withdraws his hand, clenching various herbs, and flings them into roman’s face. used properly, they aren’t intended for harm; used to save the man you’d fallen in love with during your journeys together, on the other hand…

patton dances back as roman growls, using one hand to rub at his eyes. he kneels down and retrieves an arrow, doing his best to remember what logan had taught him. he doesn’t have any projectiles to try and knock the crown free. this would have to do.

“i’m scared,” he murmurs, taking a deep breath, “and that’s okay.” he nocks the arrow. “i’m scared,” he whispers, drawing his elbow back, “but i have to be strong.”

seeming to have cleared his eyes of the irritant, roman stands still, catching his breath.

“i have to be strong,” patton repeats, aims, fires.

…

“patton!” virgil’s voice calls, echoing throughout the cavern. “patton, please, please—”

he finds patton cradling roman against his chest, face buried into roman’s hair. he is crying. virgil approaches carefully, eyeing the scene. when he catches sight of the crown, abandoned several feet away, he stomps angrily towards it. he brings his foot down, hard, denting it. he keeps this up until it is crooked and bent and unwearable.

finally, finally, he sits down beside patton.

“is he okay?” virgil asks softly, taking roman’s hand in his, and pressing his fingers against his wrist. his heartbeat is slow but steady. his chest rises and falls with each breath.

“i… i don’t know,” patton gasps, trying to breathe through his sobs.

“it stopped raining,” virgil says, “i left logan — don’t worry, he’s safe — but we should get out of here.” virgil stands, offering patton help to lift roman. they gather their belongings before looping an arm each around their shoulders. it is slow going, but they make it eventually to the mouth of the cave. the sun is peeking out from behind heavy clouds.

“it’s a sign, pat,” virgil offers, squinting in the light. “he’ll be okay. we’ll be okay.”

with sluggish progress, they eventually move to a nearby clearing. they make sure roman and logan are comfortable before starting another fire and preparing dinner.

virgil cracks a smile, attempting to lighten the mood. “i swear, though, if you don’t confess to him after this…”

patton, despite his exhaustion, blushes fiercely.

(he does, eventually, once they’ve collected their reward at the end of their quest. he watches as roman entertains the crowd at the tavern they’re celebrating in. at the end of his tale, he returns to their table, and asks how he did. patton kisses him without thought.

“i loved it,” he’ll mutter against roman’s lips, “almost as much as i love you.”

roman dissolves into a stammering, blushing mess of squeaking noises and fluttering hand movements. eventually, he returns the sentiment, and it is the happiest ending the group could have asked for.)

#i realize italics sometimes doesn't work on mobile so the flashbacks are also in parentheses #except for that vey last paragraph of course #sanders sides fan fiction #royality #romantic royality #royality fan fiction #fantasy au #dani writes #prompt fills #soc #i'm really proud of all the parallels in this

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ruotianz · 6 years

Text

28 questions tag—

so uh i was tagged more than a month ago and didn’t notice rnsksnskw but uh imma do it now then even though it’s really super late-

rules: answer the following questions and then tag twenty people! (i’m not gonna tag anyone tho rip)

tagged by: @tanqram

nicknames: beanie, cici, fluff

zodiac sign: cancer, horse

height: 5’ 2” / 157.5cm ?? according to google rip

age: 16 :’D

time: 11:02pm

favorite bands/artists: tangram/trainee18, nct, mr-x, xeno-t

song stuck in my head: we go up, nct dream :’D

last movie i saw: watched high school musical this morning uwu

last thing i googled: 5 foot 2 inches in cm :’D

other blogs: rip tbh but uh @nine-percent-makes-me-wheeze

do i get asks: i mean- idk tbh

why i chose this username: i love chaoze-

following: 73 blogs (though i really only pay attention to like 5)

average amount of sleep: idk like 4-6 hours?

lucky number: 13, 17

what i’m wearing: duck tales shirt and jeans

dream job: tbh i’m looking at being a teacher right now-

dream trip: i have no idea, i’d like to go on a cruise of some sort though ono

favorite food: is it weird for me to say corn :’D

play any instruments: flute ouo and a little guitar and piano but not enough of those two to play well rip

play any sports: marching band (if that counts rip) and tennis :’D

hair color: brown

eye color: also brown

most iconic song: do i have to choose one-

languages i speak/am learning: english, german, wanna learn mandarin but haven’t started oops

favorite songs: rush forward - tangram, chewing gum - nct dream, basically every song from nct dream- ;;, it’s you - cai xukun

random fact: i have this freckle above my lip and i really donut like it but some people like it but eh

describe yourself as aesthetic things: u h ice cream and lollipops maybe? if those count?

tagging: no one even though i’m supposed to, i already know this is heckies late rip

#wow im late but hi #i did it #lmao rip

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alloftimeandspacetosee · 3 years

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King of Anything

This one was just... it was a very clear image when I listened to the song. It still is, tbh, every single time.

The twins just. really are like that. They’re sixteen and have no shame.

(Keone is basically their tour guide in this city, ze’s genderfluid and Aurora has a massive crush)

Arlette passed her empty plate across to the waitress with a smile before settling back, clasping her cup between her hands.

“So you’re saying – your performance, day before yesterday – that’s actually how you make money?” Keone asked, leaning forward now the table in front of zir was cleared.

Aurora grinned nodding. “Yeah, sure. I mean – currently it’s just like that, busking – we juggle and dance and sing, too – but to actually hit it on a stage would be so neat.”

“Plus you have your instruments, too.” Keone smiled, dipping zir eyes as ze took a drink. “That’s so neat, you know what you want to do.”

“Uh–” Aurora blinked, almost stuttering.

Arlette smirked. “Well, it’s kinda like a work in progress? By which I mean we’re totally making it up as we go along.”

“Yeah. That.”

Arlette glanced up at her sister, laughter in her eyes. Aurora kicked her under the table.

“I’m just saying is all. Don’t see many ladies like yourself in our profession.” The man’s voice broke in from behind them, loud and clear.

“It’s… we’re in gardening. It’s stereotypically–”

The twins exchanged a glance, and Arlette raised an eyebrow.

“Oh no, it’s much more than that, don’t you see? We’re cultivating a whole experience for anyone who stops to savour it. This is complicated science.”

Aurora twisted to see the table, just the other side of a railing from them.

The couple were sitting in profile to them, the woman with her arms folded and looking spectacularly unimpressed as the man leant forward, hands up to demonstrate something.

“I know, and back home we–”

Aurora looked back to her sister and thumbed at the woman, raising an eyebrow.

Arlette squinted and then nodded, ever so slightly.

“Oh yes, you aren’t even from here! You must let me show you around, we have some splendid flowers for you to take cuttings from.”

Aurora smirked, as she pushed her chair back up against the table, pulling her phone out to send a message.

“What are you doing?” Keone glanced between them.

“A flash performance,” Arlette said. “Be right back.” She stood carefully and made her way to the counter.

“I imagine it’s far different from anything you might have seen before, yes?” The man hadn’t stopped talking.

“See we have our licence for performing in the streets, but coffee shops are a little different.” Aurora put her phone away as she pulled her bag up onto the seat beside her, sorting through it.

The woman’s phone let out a chime, and she checked it. “Sorry, I’m expecting my girlfriend–” She cut off, frowning at the screen. Then she looked up and around, tapping out a reply.

“You’re just going to – do what?” Keone was frowning, one eyebrow slightly raised.

“You’ll see.” Arlette grinned, taking her seat opposite her sister again. “Ready?”

Aurora’s phone chimed and she checked it briefly before nodding and pulling out a tacky plastic crown.

“Do – do you just always have your stuff on you?” Keone shook zir head.

“Always prepared.” Aurora smirked.

“You go.” Arlette gestured at her. “Get the note right.”

“Oh.” Aurora slapped her hands lightly on the table, at a volume clearly meant to carry through the whole coffee shop.

“Oh.” Arlette echoed her, on a different note.

“Oh?” Alé looked between them.

At a different table, Warren looked up and then ducked his head. “Oh.”

Nyx looked up as well as Arlette leant back, tapping her fingers against the railing behind her.

At a different table again, as Aurora and Arlette continued the introduction to their song, Zlata and Ryun watched, with Hohen in the seat between them and Soise idly swinging on the chair beside them.

“Keep drinkin’ coffee stare me down across the table,” Aurora sang out, leaning forward to stare her sister down, “While I look outside.” She turned her sister’s head to look out the window, beyond a few tables. “So many things I’d say if only I were able,” she continued, letting go and pushing her chair back, “But I just keep quiet and count the cars that pass by.” She tapped her finger through the air, as if counting something.

The cafe around them had fallen silent, the customers turning to watch them.

“You’ve got opinions, man? We’re all entitled to ‘em.” Aurora stood, slamming her palms into the table.

Keone grabbed zir cup back before it could be upset, shrinking down in zir seat.

“But I never asked.” She swung her coat up onto her shoulder. “So let me thank you for your time,” she stepped away from their table and up beside the couple next to them, “And try not to waste any more of mine.”

The woman looked up, frowning at Aurora. “Are you–”

Aurora smirked, grabbing her forearm. “Get out of here fast.” She gently tugged the woman out of her seat, and the woman followed easily, smiling slightly.

“Hey, if you don’t–” The man frowned and reached out as if to stop her.

Arlette slapped his hand down with a rolled up piece of paper, suddenly sitting on the edge of the table right beside him. “I hate to break it to you, babe,” she sang, leaning in. “But I’m not drowning.”

“There’s no one here to save.” Aurora smirked, winking at Shae as she spun her around in the small floorspace they had.

“Who cares if you disagree?” The twins chorused, Arlette jumping back from the table to brush up against Aurora’s back, taking the crown from her hands, “You are not me!”

“Who made you king of anything?” Arlette dipped forward, placing the gaudy plastic crown on his head. “So you dare tell me who to be?” she whispered the phrase, smirking as she let all the levity drop from her expression, eyes flashing like steel.

“Who died and made you king of anything!” Aurora sang out behind her, unaware of her sister’s sudden seriousness.

The man wriggled out of his seat on the other side, slapped down some money, and ran from the shop.

“Let me hold your crown, babe!” Arlette called after him, spinning the crown between her hands.

There’s silence after his departure.

“So you don’t want the next eight verses?” Aurora smirked.

“Shame, right?” Arlette bounced up to sit on their table.

The other customers burst into applause about them.

Arlette grinned, waving as Aurora bowed.

Warren had his head on the table as Nyx laughed, leaning over to pat his shoulder.

Zlata was looking a little aghast, while Soise was grinning, clapping in delight. Ryun was faintly shocked, while holding Hohen back from joining them.

“So.” Aurora turned to the woman at her side. “Shae, right?”

“Yes…” she frowned at Aurora. “We met… a couple years back?”

“Through Ace and Aro.” She led Shae back to their table. “How’s the rest of them?”

“Sorry if that was a bit much, but you didn’t seem like you wanted him.” Arlette slipped from her perch, bringing Shae’s drink with her. “Here.”

“Thanks.” Shae took it, grinning. “Yeah, I came over for a conference and he… uh, thought I was a hanger on.”

“Lovely.” Aurora snorted, taking her seat beside Keone. “Hey, this is Keone. Keone, Shae.” She flicked her hand between them.

“Delighted.” Shae flicked her head, giving Keone a half salute. “How long’ve you known these two?”

“Not long enough to be used to that.” Keone laughed.

“Yeah, that takes a while.” Shae grinned, looking around. “You have other friends in here, right? The ones that are sighing at us?”

Aurora looked round, caught sight of Warren, and waved, grinning at him.

“He… performed with you the first day, though.” Keone glanced over at him.

“Yeah, only because we chose a tale he liked and because we kinda...”

“We were asked to drag him in.” Arlette smirked.

“And he’s still friends with you.” Shae laughed.

“Grudgingly, grudgingly.” Aurora smiled. “How long are you here for?”

“A couple weeks,” Shae replied, standing up. “But ah – I have to… move on, right now. Sadly. Being paid to be here and all.”

“Worth a shot.”

“Thanks for the save.” Shae clapped Arlette on the shoulder. “We’ll meet up some time, though?”

“Anytime.” Arlette grinned.

“I’ll hold you to that.” Shae smirked and left, waving a hand back at them.

#pokemon #new tork city #unova #oc #Arlette Nightgale #Aurora Nightgale #writing #2nd gen #mainverse #performance

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joyfullynervouscreator · 7 years

Text

The Walkers pt 6

Chapter 6 - this is long ;)... but so are most of the chapters in this work tbh...

Somehow, the small bird’s insistence gives him hope, forces him onwards, his long strides eating up the miles as he walks through the autumn weather; it is still sunny, but the nights are beginning to chill. Beorn is glad of his other skin when night falls, the fur keeping him pleasantly warm and protected from the wind that cries across the plains, bringing with it the first nip of winter.

Running.

As you flee, your lynx body has never run faster, and you don’t care about possible pursuit, don’t care about being spotted, you simply need to be somewhere you won’t be found by a Man when it comes at last, when the fire takes over, burning away all reason with furious need. You feel desperation licking at your heels, knowing Ordred will be back soon, along with his parents and siblings. You curse your biology, but there is no way you can explain to Athelstan’s family why you’re crying out in the barn, why you’re begging for your mate to quench the fire, why you’re covered in bruises. At best, they’ll think you’re insane, but at worst… at worst, Ordred will get his wish. You do not think you could survive that, not when you return to your right mind to find that you’ve mated with him because he was the only one available. Even Men might be affected by the scent of a female in heat, or simply look for their own pleasures. You have not had cause to test it. Athelstan was away for war the first time, but he kindly went to visit his sister the second time… you do not think Ordred will show you the same kindness, remembering his roving eyes and covetous gaze.

Even mated females are weak afterwards, relying on the care of their mate… It is a lesson your mother told you, her eyes pained with old sorrow as she spoke of her sister, set upon by Men, because she had strayed without care and used until she had no more to give, then left for dead. ‘You need your mate to care for you, or you need to make arrangements for your own care’, she said, and it was a lesson that stuck, having watched Lillia work herself bloody in the throes of what is now coming for you, dreading the agony even though you have gone through it before, survived before… but that was with Beorn, or at home on the farm, a small voice in the back of your head worries, with ready access to food or even just water. You snarl at the voice, your tail swishing as you put on another burst of speed towards the dark blur on the horizon.

Fear keeps you moving, keeps you running, a different fear than the last time you ran for your life, but no less potent, your lungs heaving in air as you push your paws to go faster, further, faster. You have to get far enough away that no one will find you, will force you into a bond you would not want if you could choose. There are reasons for mating in non-heat years, for learning, and building, and trusting, even for love – before there are cubs to tend and raise.

As you run, the embers light, consuming your flesh with more and more fire, until you feel like you are ablaze with it. You keep running, pushing away the mindless need with boundless fear. The trees beckon.

In the coolness of ‘haunted’ Fangorn, you surrender to yourself, feeling a wry amusement that your screams will add to the tales of the ‘evil’ trees if anyone hears you. They will not dare investigate, even if they do.

Beorn almost doesn’t believe it when he catches her scent, her territory marked around the boundary of a small farmstead; the smell is a little stale, but unmistakably Ullrae. He’d know her anywhere, even though it has been so long since the last time he smelled it. His heart beats faster, as he sets off in a run, loping with long strides towards the farm.

“Ullrae!” he calls, his voice hoarse with emotion. Ullrae does not appear. Instead, one of the straw-haired Men appears in the doorway. Beorn sniffs. He does not like the scent of this man – is this Ullrae’s friend? Her mate? – who picks up an axe before he steps any closer. Beorn smirks, wondering if the Man thinks himself a threat. The thrush chirps from its perch in his wild mane, scolding him for jostling it with his run. Beorn chuckles at the small bird, before focusing on the man with the axe. He is young, and looks strong – for a Man, at least. Behind him, an older woman appears. The resemblance is clear: his mother, most likely.

“Who are you?” the young man asks, staring suspiciously at Beorn’s smile. Beorn smiles wider, breathing in the scent of unease wafting from the man. Good. He does not smell like Ullrae; even if he did, Beorn isn’t sure he would have been any less intimidating. In fact, he might have been more so. He wants answers, and he wants them now.

“Beorn is my name,” he replies, nodding. The man seems startled, but then his face closes off in anger. Scenting the air, he does not think Ullrae is still here, but Beorn has to ask; he is so close, he can almost feel her, safe in his arms where she belongs. “I am looking for the woman Ullrae. Golden eyes and brown hair, about this tall,” he indicates; Ullrae is a little shorter than him, “sharp features.” The older woman opens her mouth, but the young man pushes her back inside the house before she can speak.

“Aye, she was here,” he says, darkly, “she’s dead. We buried her yesterday, by the pasture.” Beorn can’t speak, turning woodenly to the plot of upturned earth the Man indicates. He feels nearly paralyzed. “Now get you gone, tall one, there’s nothing for you here.”

Moving slowly, Beorn walks towards the new grave, falling to his knees beside the dirt. The thrush chirps, but he pays no attention to the tugging of its feet in his hair. Ullrae… her scent is here, faint, but he can’t deny that it is fresher here than at the borders of the farm where he first found it. Fresher… and mixed with the scent of death, the sweet decay of meat.

He is too late. He has not kept her safe, protected his mate… again.

Burying his fingers in damp soil, Beorn begins to sing softly. It is an old mourning song, learned many years ago, and he barely remembers the words as his tears water the earth around his clenched fists.

In the grasslands rivers flow In the mountains Walkers roam Hear my song of sorrow, mourning; for now I Walk through life alone.

She joined the Hunt Eternal forever wild she will run her kin her welcome gladly as they play in the rays of the sun

I walk the world on my own only silence meets my roar Until we join once again and, as spirits, spread wings to soar.

“ULLRAE!!” her name is a roar; the bear’s roar of utter agony. There is no response; the thrush has flown away, though Beorn does not realise, staring numbly at her grave.

Beorn does not move until the last rays of the sun has long-since set. He knows at least one Man is watching, but he does not turn to see if it is the woman or the man, sees nothing but the path north as he removes his clothes, leaving them in a pile on the ground. Behind him, someone shrieks, but Beorn does not care, simply begins walking, naked, as his heart is torn apart, shredded by the vicious teeth of separation; separation so painful he does not know how he keeps walking. He believes he will find her once more, find her in the Hunt when he dies, but it is little comfort, one thought screaming in his head. Every step he takes, it resounds in his mind, breaks another little piece of his heart.

I am the last Walker.

He though so before, but he’s had thirty years of peace from that fact, and now… now he is alone once more, and he knows that this time… this time he will fight for vengeance alone, no longer caring whether he survives his hunt for the Orcs who destroyed his people.

“Why did you tell him she died?” Mildwyn frowns at her son. She has only met Ullrae a few times, and she is worried about what happened to her, why she has left so suddenly, leaving all her clothes and things behind. If that man knows Ullrae, maybe he’d be willing to help search for her? Folcwine had offered to stay and help, but she’d convinced her husband to return to Aldburg; the inn had been left in the care of less experienced hands for several days already.

“She will be my wife, mother,” Ordred replies, smiling. Mildwyn does not like that smile; it is too dark for her son. “When she returns, I will make her mine; whoever that man was, he will not come back, will not try to take her away.”

Mildwyn shakes her head. Ordred seems so certain of his future, but Athelstan said Ullrae did not want him; he wouldn’t… force her… right? Walking to the window, she looks out at the giant man who is crumbled by her brother’s grave; Mildwyn recognizes the motion of his shoulders as sobs. She cannot hear him, but there is no mistaking the grief in the lines of his body. Ordred is wrong to trick him so, she knows, the sight of such a powerful man brought low tearing at her mother’s heart, even if she doesn’t know him at all. It is clear that Ullrae was important to him; he has that same look as she did, something unusual and a bit animalistic – perhaps she is his kin? Making a swift decision, Mildwyn moves to the doorway, intending what she doesn’t know, but Ordred blocks her path easily. Looking over his shoulder, she watches the man undress, her mouth falling open at the sight. Ordred turns, and she pushes past him in his distraction, but he pulls her back into the house with a violent tug that makes her cry out in surprised pain at the strength of his grip.

“Stay here, mother,” he commands harshly, before ducking out of the small farmhouse. Mildwyn stares after him, heart racing. She wishes she had returned to Aldburg with her husband. This man… is not like the son she raised.

The bear moves among the trees, the Man little more than a ball of red-hot agony in the back of his brain. It doesn’t matter; the bear simply moves on, instinct guiding him towards his enemies. The bear does not think, it only knows that its mate is gone, and with her any hope of cubs – of a future. There is only vengeance left, only the siren-call of blood to be spilled, death to be dealt – and found.

You feel weaker than ever before when you come back to yourself; unable to move. You know you must, know you have to get up, get moving. Unless you wish to die here, you need food, but you don’t care. Grief envelops you as you lie in the mulch, too tired even to whimper, almost too dried out to weep. Athelstan will have been buried by now, you know, and you had not been there to witness it, had left before anyone came to the house. You wonder briefly what Mildwyn and Gyda will think to find you gone, but the thought disappears into a hazy doze. For a long time, you simply lie there, listening to the trees overhead, the sounds of animals uncaring that you are dying beneath the branches. You have stopped screaming; peace is once more restored in the forest and slowly the sound of a trilling bird fills your ears. You close your eyes, feeling the calm of the green world around seep into your bones.

The thrush is back, Beorn realises absentmindedly, and because he’s become so used to following the chirpy little thing the bear turns away from his straight north course, turns away from the straight path to vengeance and death and follows the bouncy ball of feathers as it hops from branch to branch, leading him to a small clearing.

Leaves cover the body, dirt streaks her skin; she blends in so well he’s almost stepping on her before he sees the naked woman. Nosing her neck, the bear whines, knowing that she is important, but the Man does not care to make sense of what he sees, what he feels, content to sit in his heart-ache and replay her face in a million lights and moods. The bear huffs, nosing cool skin again. The woman whimpers, but her eyes do not open. Lying down beside her, Beorn manages to grab her arm in his teeth, rolling over to pull her onto his back. Her wrist snaps, which makes him wince, but the woman does not even cry out at the pain. He walks, slowly, letting his nose lead him to water as he roars at the part of him that belongs in human skin.

They have to act fast; together, if there’s to be any hope at all.

Beorn has a weight on his back. That is odd. It’s his first coherent thought in a long time; it’s odd that his bear side is carrying something; bears do not usually carry things on their backs, except sometimes their cubs. When the scent hits him, he thinks it is no more than a memory; it is Ullrae’s scent, mixed with something indescribably delicious that makes his blood thrum wit recognition, but overlaid with a discordant sweet smell of approaching death. He shudders in revulsion. The thing on his back makes a sound, halfway between a moan and a whimper. Beorn freezes, staring into the stream he has reached as full consciousness slams back into him, two sides re-joining to form a whole, staring into the reflection in the water.

The face is achingly familiar beneath the dirt and the bloody trail of a split eyebrow that has already grown back together.

“Ullrae…” he whispers, changing back to his human shape before he is even aware of making the choice, laying her down on her back and looking at her battered form. Beorn whines low in his throat, pulling her up against his chest, frowning at the coolness of her skin. Cupping his hands in the clear stream, he brings them to her lips, whimpering when the water simply trickles into her mouth and back out, trailing down her chin. Kneeling on the ground, he shifts her, turning her back against his chest and hissing as her cold skin touches his warmth. In desperation, he pulls her up higher, lifting her into his lap and off the damp leaves, tilting her head back onto his shoulder and tries again, rubbing her throat to make her swallow reflexively. “Ullrae, please,” he whispers brokenly, hardly daring to believe this isn’t simply an exceedingly vivid dream soon-to-become the kind of nightmare where he can’t save her, having to watch her die in his arms. “Please, my love, you have to drink.” He needs to hunt something for her, but he doesn’t dare leave her alone; she’s too cold. If she was a lynx, he might trust to her fur to keep her warm, but he doesn’t know how to make her change shapes unconsciously; an oversight after twenty years of cohabitation. In desperation, he tries stroking the pressure points that would encourage his own shift, but nothing happens. Either it doesn’t work on her kind or she’s simply too weak.

Cupping his hands once more, he manages to get her to swallow another mouthful of water. She whimpers, huddling into his warmth. “Can you shift for me, wild thing?” he murmurs, but she doesn’t respond. Burying his face in her neck, drawing in her scent, Beorn’s tears fall onto her bruised flesh, streaking trails in the dirt that covers her. He would wash her, but the stream is icy, and she is already too cold, too pale, too still.

She needs food, but she needs to be warm before he can leave her… Beorn has an idea; it’s crazy, but it just might work. He doesn’t stop to think about it, using his teeth to score his wrist lengthwise, pressing the bloody wound against her lips. A moment passes, his other arm wraps around her, his fingers stroking her throat, trying to coax her to swallow his blood. Ullrae swallows once. Her tongue moves lightly over his skin, pleasingly rough as she laps up his blood weakly. This isn’t how mates are supposed to care for each other, he knows, but still feels a wild part of him sing with a combination of male pride and lust that he is caring for his mate, caring for her needs, giving her sustenance with – after a fashion – his own hands. Beorn smiles wryly. Ullrae swallows compulsively, sucking lightly. A distant part of him feels relieved she isn’t so far gone she would try to bite off his hand, or tear open his veins further. She only needs enough to spark her own survival instincts, get her body back on track.

“Be…orn…?” she whispers faintly, her head falling back against his shoulder once more. She is trembling.

“Hush now, wild thing,” he murmurs against her temple, bringing his wrist back to her mouth, watching his blood dribble between her chapped lips, watches her swallow the potent red fluid. He knows when she falls asleep, true sleep; the kind of nap she always needed after her heats – Beorn knows what has happened; what is only just finished happening. He can smell it on her skin, feel the answering stirring in his own loins, in his own blood. As much as he hurt her by staying away when she was in heat, he always spent those three days in a haze of lust himself, the smell of her more than potent enough to make him empty into his own fist, even when she was safely locked in the barn, far away from him and his base urges. He does not think he ever told her that he spent those three days locked up in the house himself, fighting the need to go to her, listening to her cries as penance.

As he licks the last drops of blood from his wrist, watching the small cut clot, his lust is overridden by his concern for her, his need to care for her; it’s a deep imperative, even if he rationally knows that she is not carrying a cub – his or anyone else’s. Shifting into his bear-form, he rumbles happily when she snuggles against him, wrapping his strong limbs around her to keep her warm. The bear watches her sleep, his eyes roving over her features again and again as he lets the sound of her breathing fill his ears.

It is hours later when she stirs, his blood crusted in the corner of her mouth as she stares blearily up at him, confusion in her golden eyes. She blinks.

“Be…orn?” she asks again, lifting her hand weakly to stroke his face, wincing slightly. Beorn feels a little guilty, remembering the way he sprained her wrist when the bear picked her up. He huffs, licking her cheek in apology as he rolls them, getting to his feet. When she makes to move, he growls at her to be still, knowing she can’t understand the words, but she will recognise the command. Ullrae crumbles back to the ground, making him wish he hadn’t left his clothes at what he had thought was her grave. Feeling a moment of complete panic at the memory of the freshly turned earth, he lopes back to her, licking her face again. Ullrae smiles weakly. The smell of death no longer lingers on her skin; she smells of him, now, smells like she is his. Satisfied, he gives her another lick before moving off among the trees, his nose scenting the air. She needs meat, and plenty of it.

You fall asleep once more, curled up in a small ball to keep the warmth Beorn has given you, your mind far too tired to make sense of hows or whys, checking out with the swift and silent steps of a lynx on the prowl.

You wake at the sound of a thump, something hitting the leaf mulch in front of your face with enough force to waft a leaf onto your nose. You sneeze, opening your eyes to see the carcass of a freshly killed deer in front of you, the meat still steaming.

You pounce.

It’s bloody and messy; you’re tearing strips of meat off the bones with your fingers and it’s glorious. When the first bites hit your stomach, you growl at the bear who has wisely retreated to the other side of the clearing, watching you eat with a smug satisfied air. Growling, you change skins, your sharper teeth and claws making greater inroads in the kill until you’ve gorged yourself on all the best pieces, filled the emptiness of your belly. Looking up, you catch sight of Beorn, truly registering his presence for the first time. You stare. His muzzle is bloody, something you know he dislikes, and you don’t even think before loping towards him, cleaning him with your tongue before you set to cleaning yourself, yawning widely. Beorn huffs at you; an amused sound, passing closely by you as he moves to the leftovers, eating what he wants and dragging the bare bones off into the underbrush to bury somewhere. You turn to the fresh stream, lapping greedily. Feeling pleasantly full, you change back, washing the parts of your human skin that are not raw and tender to the touch. You hiss loudly when you try to sit in the stream, the chilly water running red as you clean off the blood you have spilled over the past three days. You know you have scratched yourself bloody, feel the throbbing ache in your most abused flesh, but the coolness of the water numbs the pain a little.

“Ullrae,” Beorn whispers, making you look up at him. He reaches for you, seeming unsure all of a sudden and making you feel unaccustomedly shy about being naked. Looking down, you feel tears pressing, weeping for Athelstan and a little for yourself. Beorn’s arms wrap around you, pulling you from the icy stream and carefully wiping off the water with mullein leaves as he cradles you on his lap. “Spirits help me, Ullrae,” he whispers, and you can feel him tremble against you. At first you think he is chilled by the water, but the broken sound of pain he utters when you try to shift off him, combined with the way his arms tighten around you, convince you to stay were you are. You’re pressed against his chest, feeling safe and cared for as his face hides in your hair, his shoulders shaking with hard sobs; filled with a desperation you wish you could heal. You hide your own tears against his warm skin, bury your nose against the side of his neck, the soft and bristly hair on his furry jaw warming your face. A strange contentment fills you, dozing off as you let his familiar scent comfort you.

“Beorn?” you ask him, when your tears have stilled. His face is still buried in your hair, but he is no longer sobbing. His fingers press into your thigh.

“I thought you were dead,” he admits, crushing you tightly against him with a whimper. You reach out to stroke his arm, snuggling into his embrace. “I found your farm, and… and the Man told me you were dead, showed me your grave.” You stiffen, a snarl escaping you. Ordred! “And then I found you… Ullrae…” he can’t seem to say it, though you know what he means: you nearly died.

“I am here,” you whisper, your voice still hoarse from screaming. Beorn makes a wounded noise deep in his throat, his arms tightening around you. Turning forcefully, making him loosen his grip, you move to straddle him, keeping your weight on your knees. Pressing his head against your breast, you place your hand over his other ear so all he will hear is your heartbeat; strong and steady. Beorn’s arms are tight around your back, and you feel tears sliding down your skin, sliding down your own face too. You curl yourself around him, offering comfort the best you can.

“Don’t ever leave me,” he mutters, pressing his lips into the skin above your heart. “Never leave me,” he begs brokenly. It tears your heart apart to hear him sound like that, so far from his usual quiet rumble; his deep voice contorted with pain.

“What… what are you saying, Beorn?” you whisper, pulling on his long mane to get him to look up at your face. Your heart beats wildly, hope taking wing in a flutter of pure love as you stare down into his eyes; the colour of uisge and dark with emotion you don’t dare name. You want to kiss him, kiss away the pain he feels, licking your dry lips as you watch emotion swirl in the amber depths.

“I don’t want to live without you,” he says, stroking your cheek. You close your eyes, leaning into his touch with a soft purr, “I love you, my wild thing, I have always loved you; even when I was too stubborn to see it.” You want to believe him; you do… but you can’t. Your eyes snap open as you draw back, pull away from his large palm.

“What about Berveig?” you whisper, because you know the spectre that stands between you must be acknowledged, but hating that you’ve put sorrow into his gaze for even a moment as you watch the shadow pass across his eyes. “What about your son?” You can see him again, a small ball of dark brown fur looking up at you with blue eyes; you wonder suddenly if your own cub would look like that, if Beorn sired him. You stiffen, pushing the image out of your mind, not wanting to remember the small corpse Azog flung at you when he had had his fun.

“Berveig… I did love her,” he admits, his grip tightening around you when you try to move away. “And I am sad for her fate, the fate of our son… but she never stirred me to half the feeling the thought of losing you has done,” he whispers, pulling you back to him. You can hear the truth, the broken jagged edges of pain bleeding into his voice.

“Why did you never come looking for me?” you ask, leaving his confession hanging in the air between you. If he feels this way… why did he let you go? “It’s been more than nine summers since I last saw you,” you murmur sadly.

“Nine?” he asks, looking surprised. You frown, nodding; it’s been nearly ten, in fact. Beorn chuckles, getting to his feet slowly, keeping hold of you as he helps you find your own feet. “I was stubborn.” You smile; Beorn certainly is that. Your hands rest lightly on his chest, as you look up at him and wait for something to happen, break the tension thrumming between you. You open your mouth to speak, but Beorn continues quietly, “I spent a long time as a bear; enough time that I nearly forgot how to be a man. I was… lost.” You stare at him, abruptly frightened of what might have happened; once a Walker forgets how to Walk, they become the animal, in truth; it is the way of elders seeking death, seeking a natural end to a long life. Your fingers grip him tightly, a cry of fear spilling from your lips; you had not thought he would feel so, not after reading your letter. Beorn hushes you gently, his warm hand running down your back as you press your face into his chest. “My life was nothing but killing orcs and missing you. It is not the life I want,” he whispers, making you look up at him, hopeful but still a little scared. Dipping his head slightly, Beorn brushes a kiss across your nose. You wrinkle it in response, wanting more than that, wanting reassurance. Turning your face back to press into his warm skin, you breathe in the smell of him. “I want you, I want your love, if you’ll give it to me,” you mewl lightly, tilting your head up. Beorn chuckles, rubbing his nose against yours, “One day, I want your cubs, if we can, but if we cannot, I would still rather live my life with you than alone.” You tighten your hold at that, seeing again a small black-and-brown bear cub before your eyes. You’ve never dared hope he would want to… but now you do, and the feeling is nearly overwhelming.

“Are you sure?” you ask, when he presses his lips against yours in the softest of kisses.

“I love you, Ullrae Léonasdottir,” he murmurs, deepening the kiss. “Mate with me, make me yours as much as you are mine.” His hands press you closer, let you feel him press against you, even if he is careful not to use too much force on your still-tender skin. The bruises will take days to heal, even if shifting will help you mend quicker. You’re hungry again, though not only for food.

“My Beorn…!” you growl possessively, winding your fingers through his hair and pulling him back to your mouth, “I love you…mate.” With a joyously wild cry, he steals another kiss from your lips, grinning happily as his hands stroking your skin, relighting a few embers of desire despite your exhaustion. Attacking him with a frenzy of kisses, you still wince when your abused flesh rubs against his hard body. Beorn slows down, stroking lightly across your skin, careful with your bruises. You growl at his self-control, even though part of you knows that you are too weak still for more than a few kisses.

“Come home, ferhþlufe[1],” he murmurs against your lips.

“Have to return,” you reply, knowing you won’t be able to enjoy the new life you see before you if you do not let go of the one you have shared with Athelstan. “Have to say goodbye.” Beorn frowns unhappily, but he nods slowly.

“I’m coming with you,” he growls, shifting once more. You smile. Noting a few new scars in the fur on his face you had not spotted earlier, you trace one with your lips. The bear yips, an amused sound you’ve missed more than you realised. Kissing him once more, you take a step back, suddenly swaying with fatigue; unsure if you’ve yet regained the strength to shift, to move even. Before you, the massive black bear stands, huffing gently at you once, before moving to you and lying down on the leaves beside you.

“I may have overdone it a little, héahlufan[2],” you admit cheekily, and the bear huffs the equivalent of a laugh at the memory of your first hunt. You smile, running your fingers through his shaggy fur. Beorn nudges you lightly, nosing at your side. With a groan and a hiss of soreness, you climb onto his back, surrendering to his strength once more. This is your place, with your bear to keep you safe from the darkness without… and within.

Burying your face against his neck, you breathe deeply, enjoying the smell that is at once wild and home. You can feel the smugness radiating off him as he sets off at a smooth ground-eating pace. You try to stay awake, but you drift off to sleep as the large bear carries you away, moving easily through the forest while you rest.

[1] Heartfelt love

[2] Great love

@life-is-righteous

#beorn #beorn/reader #The Walkers #The Skinchanger Chronicles

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daniellewade · 7 years

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Please tell me about Derek Klena. I want to die vicariously through you 😜

(if you search the “Derek klena” tag on my blog you can find a brief summary of the day)but long story short; there was a pop up performance at grand central, and some of the cast members of stomp, bandstand, a Bronx tale, once on this island and anastasia were there.

but anyways he is the sweetest little puppy dog of a gentleman I have ever met.

I noticed him walk in but he was very quiet and ducked behind a curtain so I didn’t bug him. (I did say hi to Christy Altomare, Becca Peterson and Jonathan Shew who were all so kind and thankful that I had come to see them. tbh I was just as thankful that they were there.)

but anastasia was the big finale to their set so after all of the other shows performed Derek finally came out. he stepped out from behind the curtain and I was straight across from him so our eyes immediately met. he gave the cutest little half smirk and then looked down. he walked to the center of the mock stage, and the first few notes of My Petersburg start to play. I don’t know if he had noticed me or the camera that I was holding, but he looked over and winked at me. -my heart melted a little-

throughout the song, even though I was sitting somewhat far stage left he managed to keep glancing towards me. and one moment in the song he even looked right at me and pointed. once he finished the song he had the most genuine, happy smile on his face. it was the most special thing to see him doing what he loves to do.

-so meanwhile I’m now hyperventilating, they introduce christy and john to join him so they can sing We’ll Go from There.-

since he doesn’t sing right away in that song he kinda stood there very statuesque, staring off into the distance. (giving me a very nice look at his beautiful profile….js) I was watching Christy sing.. as one does, and as I put my camera down for a second, I notice him side eyeing me while trying not to brake character. finally it’s his line and he jumpy forward. now he’s maybe ten feet in front of me. he’s looking at Christy and John for the most part, but every time he turned around we managed to make eye contact at least once.

after that Christy sang Journey to the Past (Derek was watching from behind the curtain and looking so proud of her) and then the show was over. I was able to thank her for the wonderful show quickly before she had to leave in a hurry. Derek though was kinda awkwardly standing in the corner, sort of behind Becca and Jonathan, but out of the way with his hands behind his back. I walked up to him and thanked him for a wonderful show and told him that he did a spectacular job. he thanked me for coming and supporting the show. and told me I was a great audience member. (this whole time I’m trying my best not to just stare at his dimple bc omfg it’s perfect.)

I noticed a line starting to form behind me and I could tell that they were waiting for him, so I wished him luck in the show that night and said goodbye.

overall he is such a gentleman, he made sure that he held the curtain out of the way for all of the ladies, and stayed out of the way when he thought he needed to. his little chin dimple is perfect and his hair looks incredibly luscious and soft. he’s sweet as can be and I hope that everyone is lucky enough to meet him one day.

#derek klena #story time #anastasia #lauren goes places

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pelannea · 7 years

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Tagged by @goingtobed Hi! *waves* Thanks for tagging me! :))

Rules: answer and tag 20 people

THE LAST: 1. drink: green tea 2. phone call: my dad 3. text message: my ex 4. song you listened to: Boy - Boris

5. time you cried: today watching torchwood. yesterday because of some gif from Bon Voyage, I think? I rarely cried before my kids were born but these days I cry all the time when I read or watch something.

6. dated someone twice: no 7. kissed someone and regretted it: not really 8. been cheated on: I don't think so? 9. lost someone special: nearly did 10. been depressed: tbh i don’t know what counts 11. gotten drunk and thrown up: I can't even remember when was the last time I got myself that drunk. happened many times when I was a teen, that's for sure.

THREE FAVORITE COLORS: 12. turquoise 13. silver 14. black

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU: 15. made new friends: yes :)) 16. fallen out of love: no 17. laughed until you cried: yes 18. found out someone was talking about you: no? 19. met someone who changed you: all the time 20. found out who your friends are: all my friends are amazing and I love them? 21. kissed someone on your facebook list: a few of them

GENERAL:

22. how many of your facebook friends do you know in real life: all, I think. or at least I've met them all. 23. do you have any pets: no, I'm both asthmatic and allergic to everything with fur. if the kids want pets some day, it'd have to be a lizard or something because apparently I can't have a giant squid :( which i'd love, I just hope they'll also be fine with that. 24. do you want to change your name: no. i might take a pen name, though. 25. what did you do for your last birthday: packed. I traveled to UK the next day with my friends and a few days later they took me out for dinner as a birthday gift <3 26. what time do you wake up: around six usually, somewhere between 8 and 10 on the weekends and now that it's summer. if the kids aren't home, i'll sleep for longer 27. what were you doing at midnight last night: writing, probably 28. name something you can’t wait for: Welcome to Night Vale live show this fall in Helsinki 29. when was the last time you saw your mom: two days ago 30. what are you listening to right now: a podcast called Alice Isn't Dead (when am I not listening to podcasts really) AND THIS EPISODE CAN'T END LIKE THIS 31. have you ever talked to a person named tom: not sure? I've talked to someone with a Finnish variation of the name though 32. something that is getting on your nerves: can't think of anything right now 33. most visited website: ...tumblr, most likely. 34. hair color: green, currently. my natural colour is maantienharmaa which is like greyish blonde that looks like a dirty country road. it used to be a lighter blonde. 35. long or short hair: short 36. do you have a crush on someone: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 37. what do you like about yourself: creativity 38. piercings: 11 in my ears, one in my cheek 39. blood type: I actually can't remember 40. nickname: Mii 41. relationship status: single 42. zodiac: gemini 43. pronouns: she/her 44. favorite tv show: äääää, Mushishi? it's what first came to mind 45. tattoos: one on the back of my right thigh. there're currently four on my to do list, most of them will be watercolour tattoos. 46. right or left handed: right 47. surgery: they took my pharyngeal tonsils when I was a child, got ice cream to replace them I think 48. sport: unironically yoga and jogging 49. vacation: deep sea let me meet Cthulhu. the moon. Trappist. take me to deep space and I'm yours. 50. pair of trainers: don't care, I'd go without shoes if it didn't look weird. and my country’s kind of cold

MORE GENERAL:

51. eating: I crave cheese 52. drinking: wouldn't mind wine with that cheese but I'm cool with this Baileys too 53. i’m about to: read about Mars's moons 54. waiting for: nothing really, I'm good 55. want: I want to finish my first book one day 56. get married: not that important to me. I'm not a wedding person either 57. career: when I grow up and become an adult and really cool I'll be a writer and a translator

WHICH IS BETTER:

58. hugs or kisses: both. depends on the mood 59. lips or eyes: both 60. shorter or taller: I'm hella short myself and it's absolutely fine to be small and spicy. if we're talking about partners, it doesn't matter 61. older or younger: partner: doesn't matter; kids: every age is beautiful but I can't deny that my own are less of a hassle now, compared to what it was a couple of years ago; me: I stopped aging somewhere before 25, obviously. 62. nice arms or nice stomach: all arms and bellies are nice 63. hook up or relationship: I'm open to pretty much anything. However, I'm worried that I, as a single parent and a full time student, won't have enough time and energy for anything. also, I like being fully independent. I'm not ready to give that up. 64. troublemaker or hesitant: ...I think I have one of both living in my house

HAVE YOU EVER: 65. kissed a stranger: ...maybe? is it bad that I'm not sure? I mean, I can't remember everything that happened 10-15 years ago... 66. drank hard liquor: yes 67. lost glasses/contact lenses: yes, I kept losing my glasses all the time so I started wearing contact lenses. I don't think I've ever lost those 68. turned someone down: yes, only men though 69. sex on the first date: no but I wouldn't be against it 70. broken someone’s heart: I have no idea tbh 71. had your heart broken: not really 72. been arrested: no. I think it was a close call once or twice when I was a teen. it was...uh...underage drinking and I ran fast. 73. cried when someone died: in real life, no. fictional, all the time 74. fallen for a friend: hmm

DO YOU BELIEVE IN: 75. yourself: most of the time 76. miracles: depends on how you define a miracle 77. love at first sight: if love's a feeling that develops into something more complex with time, then yes. if love's commitment and knowing someone well and choosing to stay with them, then no 78. santa claus: which one? I was the kind of kid that wanted to live in a forest, imagining that only the things I decided were real existed. if something, imaginary or not, is powerful enough to influence people's lives and actions, isn't it real in that sense? That's how I see all religions. And fairy tales. 79. kiss on the first date: if it feels right 80. angels: see 78

OTHER:

81. current best friend’s name: I have two who've tagged along for 11 and 14 years now, you know who you are, I love you<3 82. eye color: blue 83. favorite movie: a difficult question... I love Ghibli, and as a child I loved the first Neverending story but now... can I skip this and say I love Shakespeare instead?

I’m tagging @shurikenship @hangoverhater @doggytail-duck @ropsus and @bananacookies1

#tagged #mii

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