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strigital · 5 months

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just a small bunch of Alek because he is the babiest of girls 😔

think it's about time i explained who tf he is and why i'm always sad about him so here are a few fun facts about the boi!:

saw his parents get brutaly unalived by Arasaka aged 16 and had to delta the fuck outta there with a toddler sister in his arms

got stranded in the desert outside Night City with nothing to his name but dad's old jacket, enough eddies to buy like one burger and a hungry child to care for

came across some Nomads (the Bakkers) and for a year or two Selita Bakker took the babes under her wing (then she fucken died and he had to leave again)

was forced into a life of crime just to make sure his sis didn't starve

he'd disappear for days or weeks doing gig after gig while Jaxine stayed with Mama Welles, Padre, Dr. Vik or Mama Fabienne (a kind-hearted haitian proprietress of The Birdhouse, an orphanage set up in the ruins of a small theatre tucked away somewhere between Dogtown and GIM) more about her sometime later

because of that Jax basically raised herself and Alek forever hated himself for not being there for her when she needed him most

he called her Jacket all the time and only used her name when she done fucked up and needed an ass woopin' (she was a hooligan who'd get locked up on possession charges aged 14...)

the nickname came from the fact that after they became orphans Jax would only ever shut up and stop crying while swaddled into her dad's giant jacket; she'd even wobble around like a penguin wearing it like a giant ass cape. and so it stuck. Jacket (sometimes it was JJ when Alek was in a hurry)

back in the world of edgerunning he was known as Vulture or V for short. his selling pitch was "got a bone to pick with somebody? Vulture's your man!"

as a side job he also ran an indie rock group "The Vultures". music helped him cope with day-to-day traumatic shit he had to endure. it's through the showbiz that he met Kerry Eurodyne and developed a hopeless crush on the celeb. feelings were mutual AF but both gonks were too shy to say anything. Kerry would only find out about it some years later from his sis when she became a walking floppy disk for Johnny_Silverhand.exe

at some point he utterly peaked in the merc world. every dog at the Afterlife knew his face and everybody wanted to work with him. even Rogue at some point advertised him to her clients as "the" man to do the job

at the pinnacle of his career Alek chipped in some mean mantis blades, top of the line Kiroshis, a Militech-made Sandevistan and a gazillion more enhancements that made him a fucken beast to be reckoned with. he also trained relentlessly and folks even mistook him for an ex-military, even though everything he knew was self-taught. he never stopped improving his body and mind and because of this (or maybe inspite of this?) he started showing the first symptoms of cyberpsychosis sometime around 2070. despite that, he'd keep his illness under control up until his death in 2074

it was also around this time that he klepped a pristine Type-66 Avenger off some corpo rat. he took the beaut to the Nomads to have it juiced up and after some work the wheels came out black as midnight, equipped with CrystalDome tech, guns upon guns, meanest freaking engine and tyres that could cling to walls if need be. don't ask how many people died staring down that bumper approaching them head-on at supersonic speeds, cause the answer is too many. Jax always felt like he loved that damned car more than her sometimes... and whenever she asked to take the beastie for a spin he'd always reply "over my dead body". who knew fucker meant it literally?!

Alek lied to Jaxine her whole life in a desperate bid to protect her from literally the entire world. the story of how they became orphans, what he did as a job, where he went off to for days on end... girl grew up knowing nothing about real Alek. only years later when with the help of a mutual friend she discovers his secret pad in the Glen that she'd start to piece together who he really was

Alek was afraid of his illness taking away his memory, so he scrolled damn near everything. birthday parties, hangouts at the shooting range, hikes into the badlands... every more or less important moment with Jaxie got recorded onto a BD shard and tucked away like a precious little slice of life that he was losing alongside his self-destructing neural links. later, Jaxie would spend hours rolling them over and over again, reliving the life that Arasaka took from them

throughout his career Alek's sole purpose in life (besides keeping his lil' sis alive) was revenge on Arasaka. specifically, he wanted to end Saburo himself with his own hands. any gig that involved messing with 'Saka or allowed him to gather crucial info was an automatic green light for him

he knew his dad didn't die in the assault and suspected he was Soulkilled like many other enemies of the corp (old man did in fact manage a anti-corpo group of vigilantes for like a decade before getting ratted out by somebody). at some point while on a gig to steal some 'Saka intel he got a hold of his dad's engram's copy. not like the Relic which would delete your personality, but the old gen - one that you plug in and talk to like your average hologram. of course, Alek never told Jax that he had their dead father on a shard slotted into his head at all times... and old man Bryce didn't want to traumatize his junior kid even further, either

dad wholeheartedly supported his son's mission to topple Arasaka, which was probably a bad idea... because history tends to repeat itself and eventually 'Saka discovered Alek's true identity and connected numerous crimes against them back to him. Adam Smasher was on his way to smash Alek...

too late did Alek realize that he done fucked up. he got all the crucial info locked away in his pad, the keys from it he left in his wheels and send that mf off into the sunset with a trusted fella. he recorded a sordid confession for Jaxie with a shitton of i'm-sorry's and i-love-you's and sent her away by... lying, again. he told her some drug dealers where coming to collect their due and he wanted her out of danger while he dealt with them. but the metal man Smasher showed up and the epic fight ensued. Alek knew he had no chance but he wasn't gonna make it easy for the dickwipe that zeroed his fam. the least he could do is hurt the bitch. and so as Jaxie was speeding away on Alek's bike - explosion. both Alek and his digitized dad were gone for good. Jaxie was left to fend for herself, not knowing that 'Saka now knew that they didn't wipe all of the Bryces and were looking for the one that got away

eventually she'd learn the whole tragic ass truth. and despite Alek's last wish for Jaxine to leave 'Saka be and just live her life, she made it her life goal to avenge her family. somehow, someway. one Johnny Silverhand would later come in extremely handy in this quest of hers

even though his life was hard and short, he did try to live to the fullest. he put his heart and soul into his music, he tried his damned best to show Jaxine that he loved her, and he looked out for his friends. Rogue would describe him as "the good villain" - a guy who despite having bloodied hands that never dried, always tried to do well by others. there was a short time when he was considered the deadliest motherfucker in town the mention of whose name sent shivers down gangoons' spines. and then he, like many before him and after, died

so if ya wanna honor the legendary Vulture whose flight was cut short, come down to the Afterlife and ask Claire for a shot of The Vulture: Armagnac Massy on the rocks with a splash of Cirrus Cola and a mint garnish. expensive, you say? if you knew him, you'd know he was worth every ennie

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rahadaddy · 30 days

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The amazingly talented @spicyspell has utterly captured my game's Alek Gwilym! I cannot overstate how pleased I am with this piece, how beautiful it is, and how excited I have been all day to unveil it to my players - especially my player whose cleric is Alek and Strahd's son.

In Blood Countess, Alek Gwilym has many titles. He is Commander Gwilym, Master at Arms of Ravenloft. He is the former squire and eldest scion of Lord Argynvost. He is the avatar of the Morning Lord. Most importantly, he is Ayah, or Father, to Godfrey and Alistor Gwilym.

Alek was the son of the dragon lord, Argynvost, and his human wife, Freya. He spent his youth at Argynvostholt, training to be a knight. He even became his father's squire. However, his mother was killed by the wizards of the Amber Temple and Alek abandoned the order. He became a mercenary sell-sword and traveled far and wide. He eventually returned to the Balinok Valley to serve as a bodyguard and guide for the princess-general, Strahd von Zarovich. He was a powerful fighter and asset to the Barovian forces. After saving Strahd's life, he was inducted into her army and he rose through the ranks quickly. They fell in love and carried on an illicit affair until Strahd fell pregnant with twins and defeated the Tergic army. The boys were sent to live at Argynvostholt but Strahd was never informed of their whereabouts. Alek remained a devoted father to Godfrey and Alistor and repaired his relationship with his father while maintaining his position at Ravenloft's court as Strahd's right hand. However, Strahd became mired in her grief and obsession with preserving her power. Alek ultimately lost her but remained dedicated to her even to his own demise in the Amber Temple, where she killed him as a sacrifice to Vampyre. Alek made a deal that day, too, with the Morning Lord and agreed to be his avatar. Unfortunately, he was magically sealed away by the Dark Powers and he awaits the day that he can reunite with his sons.

In the meantime, he's tried to exert his will on the valley with mixed success. Currently, he has one (1) warlock: a nun from Krezk who is more than the sum of her parts and has sent an angel to try to heal Strahd with unfavorable results. He's trying. He really, really is. It's tough to be a god!

Especially when all he wants is to see the people he loves one more time.

I absolutely adore Alek and I am so thrilled to have art of him! I am so happy! I love his dragon scales, which look a little like vitiligo. I love the curls of his hair and the sharpness of his nose. I love his smile and the fact that when I showed my cleric, she said that he is definitely Alistor's father.

(Also, his and Strahd's portraits face in opposite directions. I can make them face each other and he looks besotted while she's looking away or I can make them face away from each other, back to back, in comparison. Hell. Yes.)

#g: blood countess #ch: alek gwilym #alek gwilym #curse of strahd

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readwebcomicsgdi · 17 days

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Welcome to Ikon, a supernatural historical fiction about a son and a psychopomp who turn to the world of art smuggling to help their families. Young army veteran Aleksandr Kogan wants to support his parents with his printing business, but he's under the thumb of a "security company". As a talented counterfeiter, he's managed to satisfy their demands by paying in fake dollar bills. While the mafia has spared Aleks thus far, someone else is not so fortunate: Azariah, an undead psychopomp who should be aiding those in the grave instead of crawling out of the one they threw him in. As Aleks looks for ways out from under the mafia, Azariah tries to drill his way right back in so he can find his troubled, adoptive son.

https://ikon.thecomicseries.com/

The artist doesn't post often, but they do have a blog here on tumblr @misselaney !

#sweet recs

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letstalkwhump · 11 months

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Let's Talk Whump

Welcome to Let’s Talk Whump, a series of interviews that spotlight the amazing people in our whump community! I’m Malice and I’ll be your host today.

Today I’m talking whump with the amazing @studyofwhump!

Welcome to the show! Do you mind starting with a fact or two about yourself?

I’m Kay and I just turned 26 a few days ago! When not torturing my ocs, I am studying planetary geochemistry and having fun playing with spicy chemicals. I also really enjoy cooking, jewelry making and pen pal letters!

And what does whump mean to you?

I’ve often thought of whump as a facet of the hurt/comfort genre, with a greater focus on the physical, psychological, and emotional hurt and trauma inflicted on characters. Whump looks into not only characters experiencing intensely painful and overwhelming circumstances, but the hard road to recovery that comes afterward. There can be a lot of overlap with ‘angst’ in that regard, but it becomes whump when direct harm to the character’s well-being comes into play (for me that includes more of the physical harm).

How did you find the whump community? What made you want to join?

I followed the bad things happen bingo tumblr blog for a few years, writing down their prompts for my own story ideas as a little checklist. Then through that, I came across @whump-tr0pes Honor Bound series in its early stages and found the term ‘whump.’ Turns out, it was a concept I had enjoyed nearly all my life and had a flourishing online community! I decided to create a dedicated whump blog since a few irl friends followed my main and weren’t fans of fictional violence, and it’s been one of my favorite pastimes ever since!

That’s awesome as! Do you think your view on whump changed since you joined?

I started out mostly making generic prompts and reblogging whump art, not really sure about sharing my own fics since I barely shared my writing with anyone irl. I enjoyed fandom whump more, but as I started reading more original work from other whump writers, I grew a greater appreciation for it. Sharing more of my writings for my alien sci-fi series Titan Guard brought some positive feedback, and I’ve felt encouraged to open up my stories to a growing community as well.

And now everyone’s favourite question: Favourite whump tropes?

WHIPPING (favourite since I was a kid and whipped my Polly Pocket and Lego figures for the plot!), interrogation, used as bait, bound and gagged (again, tying up all my toys for the plot haha), manhandling, stress positions, slavery, POW situations, isolation, nightmares, forced to watch or choose, caretaker turned whumpee, whumpers who are cold and calculating and don’t hold back, and so many more!

Torturing your childhood dolls is such a universal whump experience! Would you mind sharing a favourite piece you've written?

Ooh that’s a hard one…

Alek’s First Whipping was one of the earliest scenes I had for Alek’s backstory in Titan Guard that I was really excited to share. It’s one of the first instances of Alek experiencing intense and body-altering pain that is public and degrading. It was a fic I had written several years prior to sharing it, and while some minor changes were made as I developed the story more, it’s still largely the same as the original which I really enjoy. And of course, it uses one of my all-time favorite tropes!

The explosion arc I’ve been writing has also been a favorite because I wanted to use the circumstances of that arc to show how dire the situation for the Pax Rebel group stranded on Earth is, essentially showing one of their lowest points. This arc also is the most effort I’ve dedicated to laying out more of the actual plot for Titan Guard and what it’s about. With this, I’ve also tried including some morally gray situations where there’s no clear answer to dealing with a friend’s impeding death, and opening it to readers to think on what they think is ‘right’ in just a scenario.

Public whipping is so good! And I loved Alek’s reaction, the poor guy. Do you mind sharing what your writing routine looks like?

I try to write 200 words a day in one form or another (although the past couple of weeks I’ve definitely fallen behind), and usually like to work on one WIP to fill that quota. I’m not a morning person at all, so I’m writing mainly in the afternoon or evening. I’ve found that if I’m able to sit outside while it’s nice and dark, that’s actually the most productive time for me!

Do you find that your ability to write varies between topics?

I have the most fun writing dialogue, both spoken between characters and internally, and especially if the two contradict each other. The dialogue for a scene is usually the first thing that comes to me, revealing an oc’s inner feeling and fears that guide their actions through the rest of the scene. I’ve been writing more arguments between characters recently, which has been really interesting sorting out group dynamics and complicating relationships.

I’ve also been told I’m good at delivering soul-crushing angst suddenly during an already whumpy moment!

And is there anything you're working on at the moment?

I’ve got a list of fics I’m trying to work on at the moment! Now that I’m over the hill on graduation and family stuff, I’ll hopefully have more time to get working on them. Alek and Lulan are in the line of fire right now, and the next few fics with them will be pretty pivotal! Some of their defining moments are coming up…

I’ve also tried to start focusing more on worldbuilding for my verse and the history of the main conflict leading up to the main story. Part of that is trying to get back into conlang, which is one of my favorite things!

Do you have a joke or pun you would like to share to spread some smiles today?

Of quartz I have good puns! As a geologist, I must never take puns for granite. And it’s always gneiss to spread smiles and laughter when schist happens and things get wacke. Not to get too sediment-al, but the whump community is like geology puns…

They rock.

I’m dying at that last line. That was awful but also very good! Is there any writing advice you’d like to share?

If you’re planning a larger project, let the ideas flow. I’m sometimes pretty rigid when it comes to sticking to the main canon of my own writing, but I still try to create alternate scenes for my own enjoyment and to help get through writer’s block. Even if you have a set plot or idea in mind for how you want the story to go, if a cool idea gets stuck in your head just write it out or take notes or do whatever even if it’s completely random! Write that AU, create alternate endings and any kind of ‘what if’ scenarios. You never know what random little ideas you’ve collected over time will become the answer to a writing block or a new idea you love.

Are there any blogs you’d like to shout out?

@whump-tr0pes @ashintheairlikesnow and @wildfaewhump for being the first few whump blogs whose original work I found captivating and inspiring as an introduction into the whump community!

@for-the-love-of-angst @noirineverysense @justplainwhump @aprilwaters @sableflynn @actress4him @tormentum-ab-intra @clockworknightmares @sweetwhumpandhellacomf @winedark-whump @straight-to-the-pain and @lektricwhump who are all amazing creators and lovely people I’ve gotten to know over the past couple of years. Go check out their work!

A special shout-out to @gritpyre, connoisseur of buff women and lycanthropic turmoil who I’ve commissioned artwork from in the past and is seriously talented! Frankie is truly amazing!

And while not whump specific, my two irl writing fiend friends @chaotic-tired-cat and @buggy-about-town who have enabled my whump obsession and found some connection to the genre as well! I love you both!!

And finally, anything you'd like to add? <

Just to say that the whump community has been there to help me get through some pretty tough times, and I am so, so grateful for it. I’ve met some truly kind and wonderful people here I can call friends, and I look forward to seeing what creations are coming in the future!

Thank you for joining us, @studyofwhump!

And to all you lovely folks at home, have a whump-derful day!

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crsentfairy · 7 months

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masemi edo facts! 💄

she's a libra. (oct. 20)

masemi's face claims are duckie thot & anok yai!

her voice claim is naomi campbell

she's a runway model.

she doesn't like pizza. tastes weird to her

she was born in togo and raised in the UK!

though she was born in togo, her parents are both nigerian.

she's an only child.

masemi is 24 years old!

her favorite hair dye color is purple or just jet black.

she's incredibly friendly and outgoing! she tries to socialize often when she can, but her demeanor often throws people off. (that's just what unwavering self-confidence does to people, i guess)

her role models are iman, shalomn harlow, and alek wek

if she hadn't gotten into modeling, she would defnitely attend NYU and get her foot into the creative arts and/or fashion, one way or another.

she has collarbone-length 4c hair, and habitually experiments with it! she once shaved her head bald and kept it as a signature hairstyle for 2 years

her theme song is this song:

masemi's favorite season is winter. the best fashion shows take place around this season, so she's also the busiest around this time.

she visited family back in nigeria and togo a few times in her life, but not enough to form a strong bond with them. yes, the rumors are true she is the "perfect rich famous cousin" lmao

she taught herself how to walk in heels since she was 9 and mastered it by the time she was 15. no one saw her blunders and epic fails more than her full body-length mirror and stuffies 😞

she LOVES iced coffee and just anything caffeinated in general! she refrains from overconsumption as to not ruin her teeth. lol

masemi is 5"10!

her nickname by her parents was tsana, meaning doll, in Hausa.

#crsent.sims #oc #masemi edo #might add more to this but yeah! derived her character from models i literally adore/adored growing up she has my whole heart <3 #Spotify

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galactic-tragedy · 7 months

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Finally posting all my artfight attacks here, we're in for a long art post-

Ilene belongs to UnbredSpring

Mayo belongs to satelliteimage

O'ivur Hee, Finnbar Dermot, and Jolie Laurent belong to @imptris-png

Tris and Axel belong to @cheeryfairies

Silva Dominic belongs to whitesheap

Ghosty belongs to ghostforfunz

Aleks belongs to PersoniPhy

Salt belongs to @siphimir

Amara belongs to ZUR1VESKY

Angel Celestine belongs to @i-spilled-the-starjuice

Sockeye belongs to Wateribis

Augustus belongs to Granxa

Daigo and Inazuma belong to Vermilian_

Wring and Time belong to justaddhorns

Aspen belongs to Eternalxyn

Insomnia belongs to Oh_Ja_y

Kiirion belongs to Cssiel_x

Halcyon belongs to Co

Oca belongs to horizoof

Wandering Moth belongs to @justanotheruser

November belongs to mercifulruuru

Jax/Jackson and Magnis belongs to Dracko

Slimelick belongs to Fetusarm

Agent X belongs to NeoLunala

Onyx belongs to @atlasbarelyanimates

Iaron belongs to @tomoyo2201

Kilanie Silvers belongs to @pixyletime

#artfight2023 #artfightwrapup #this is very late-

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erenyuuta · 2 years

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Ice & Fire - Chapter 3

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Glossary & Character List (contains spoilers)

Pairing: Eren Jaeger X Yuuta Okkotsu

Genre: Fantasy AU, romance, smut, angst, fluff, a crossover between Attack On Titan and Jujutsu Kaisen, loosely based on Game of Thrones and Eragon

Series Summary: Yuuta Okkotsu, the kind-hearted firstborn prince of the kingdom of Nymeria, finds himself stranded on an island that had been thought to only exist in legend. It is there he meets the last of the Valyrians, a dragon-blood named Eren Jaeger. While their days on the island are happy, they can’t last forever. Yuuta has a duty as prince to his kingdom that he must fulfill, and it is this duty that ultimately tears them apart.

Content Warnings: BL/Yaoi, hybrids/monsters, magic/fantasy, infidelity, power imbalances, graphic depictions of violence and death, explicit sexual content (blow job, anal sex, rimming, cunnilingus, exhibitionism, monsterfucking, 69, cum-eating, spit play, deep-throating, double penetration, sadism, masochism, blood play/consumption, choking/asphyxiation kink, handjob, drunk sex, orgy), dub-con, non-con, virginity loss, drugs (alcohol), traumatic backstories, unrequited love, drowning, murder, suicide, yandere tropes, corruption arc, major character death

Written by Aleks from @erenergic / @princess-jaeger and Kana from @ficsforeren / @sundaysundaes

Poster art by @/dmhwla on Twitter, commissioned by Aleks ❤️

THE SON OF THE USURPER

As the wet season hits its peak, the island is grappled with cold weather. Year-round the temperatures do not vary much, but because of the rain that pelts the earth for months, the island cools off. The boys manage to survive the rainy season through a combination of teamwork and wits. It turns out that Yuuta may have thought that Eren was a quick learner, but it’s Yuuta who learns quicker.

First, it’s the Valyrian language. Over the course of the first few months they spend together, the boys teach each other everything they know. Yuuta often points to things or draws pictures in the sand and tells Eren what the words for them are in his language. And in turn, Eren does the same. While Eren retains the basics, Yuuta is much better at it. In Nymerian, Eren can form one-word replies and a three-word sentence at best, but Yuuta? In the course of one rainy season, Yuuta already begins to understand Eren’s thoughts. A few months isn’t enough for full-on conversation, but it’s enough to form an understanding of each other when it’s needed.

It makes Eren self-conscious, too, that Yuuta is such a natural at things. Where Eren struggles, Yuuta excels. And where Eren excels, Yuuta learns to catch up to him. While Eren battles with feelings of inferiority, Yuuta only is ever encouraging to the young hybrid. Yuuta offers the sincerest of smiles whenever Eren speaks Nymerian (or at least tries to). Yuuta simply giggles whenever Eren does something that is strange to him, but never out of malice. And late nights when Eren cries, Yuuta never teases him or calls him a crybaby, he only offers the comfort of his gentle hands. Sure, Eren is self-conscious, but only because he thinks his newfound friend is perfect in every way possible.

As the weeks go by, Yuuta grows tired of being relegated to firewood gathering. He begins to accompany Eren on his ventures outside of the cave, much to Eren’s dismay. Yuuta doesn’t know anything about hunting, and coming along on a hunt with no skills is a burden to the hunter. But when Yuuta asks him with such a pleading look in those crystal blue eyes, Eren can’t find it in him to say no.

Eren gives Yuuta a handcrafted spear, much like the one he had pointed at Yuuta’s throat all those months ago. Eren arms himself with a bow and arrow he had made from jute plant fibers and the wood from fallen branches. Yuuta had watched Eren make the bow and arrow with so much interest Eren had blood pooling on his face for hours. Why was he watching me like that? Eren had wondered. Did his people not have hunting weapons? Eren receives his answer a few days later when Yuuta creates his own bow and arrow using the same methods Eren had used.

Yuuta isn’t given the chance to use the spear or the bow and arrow, because Eren is quite adept with his weapons. Rabbits and rats are child’s play in the face of Eren’s bow. It is not soon after a few more hunting trips that Yuuta asks Eren to teach him archery.

Eren searches the earth in the pouring rain for a target with Yuuta following closely behind. The wind from the storm has knocked off many fruits from the trees. On the ground rests these fruits, in greater quantities than the two boys could eat by themselves. Eren picks one up and using a knife made of flint, stabs it onto the bark of a nearby tree.

“Zaldrīzes gerpa?” Yuuta asks, his voice unsure as Eren readies their target. Eren’s impressed that Yuuta remembers the name for this spiky pink fruit: dragonfruit.

He turns to Yuuta with a smile and affirms his guess with a simple, “Kessa.” Yes.

They shuffle back with bows in hand, standing a considerable distance away from the tree. It’s hot and humid, and the rain, a gentle mist, does nothing to cool them down. Yuuta wears a thin linen shirt and pants that he found within Eren’s chest of treasures. Eren wears just a thin pair of pants that he had cut off at the knees. He runs so hot that his body sweats more than the rain that pours on him, so he doesn’t bother with wearing clothing over his chest.

As they both stare at the target, readying their arrows, Yuuta suddenly asks, “Why don’t we make it a bet?” His smile turns just a tad bit mischievous.

“What is bet?” Eren asks aloud. He’s never heard that word before.

“Like a game,” Yuuta says. The word game, Eren knows. Eren and Yuuta have come up with ways to waste the time, and these ways mostly consist of what Yuuta calls games. Sometimes the games are feats of strength: who can throw a knife the farthest, who can run and touch that rock down the beach the fastest. These games, Eren usually wins. Even with his slightly shorter stature. Eren is built bigger and stronger than the leaner Yuuta.

Other times, the games are more variable: Yuuta, using a rock to mark the cave surface, has invented games that involve scratching markings into the ground. The games require just a bit of cunning and foresight, and these games are a toss-up. Yuuta wins sometimes, other times he lets Eren win—if only to see Eren’s smile and his eyes light up like the crystalline gems they are.

All this to say that Eren has come to quite like playing games with his human companion.

“Okay, let’s play game.”

Yuuta knows he possesses no skill at archery, and Eren knows this too—so what is Yuuta on about?

“If you miss the fruit you have to wash clothes for a week,” Yuuta says. Eren audibly groans. He hates having to clean their sweaty garments. It’s why Eren, before Yuuta’s arrival, had spent much of his time naked. But after the first night together, Yuuta had awoken to see him without clothes and gasped so loud it frightened the nearby birds. After that incident, Eren learned to wear clothes more often.

“And you?” Eren asks, pointing in his direction.

“Hmm… If I miss, I will cook for a week.”

But you like cooking, Eren thinks as he pouts. The game seems unfair to him—Yuuta has to do something he likes while Eren has to do something he hates.

I don’t know how to shoot the bow, Eren, Yuuta counters from within his mind in Valyrian. Is it a bit strange that they can have full conversations without even speaking? Yes. But after months together they’ve gotten used to such a phenomenon. They don’t understand it, but they do it regardless.

You’re so stubborn, Eren groans inwardly.

Yuuta chuckles as he lifts the bow and positions it parallel to his shoulders. He squints one eye, focusing on the pink fruit as his target. Eren watches as Yuuta draws the string back. He has the urge to help Yuuta and fix his arm posture, but a game is a game. If Yuuta misses, it’s fair and square.

When Yuuta releases the string, the arrow misses the tree entirely, landing on the wet grass before the tree trunk with a pathetic thud. Yuuta doesn’t care that he has to cook for a week. His cooking is much better than Eren’s, and he prefers to do it anyway.

Eren, on the other hand, does not want to wash their clothes. When he lines up his arrow, he does it with hopes of making the shot. It’s not even a difficult shot, but with something like this on the line he feels like he’s on a trial, proving himself to his fellow hunter.

He says to Yuuta, “Watch this.” Inwardly he adds, I’ll show you how it’s done.

Eren squints and looks at his target, readying his fingers to release the bow. But perhaps he had been too concentrated on the bow and less on Yuuta because when Yuuta replies, Yuuta is standing so close that Eren can feel his breath on his neck.

“Good luck with your shot,” Yuuta coos into his ear.

Eren’s so surprised his fingers let go of the string, sending the arrow flying off in a completely wrong direction. Heat crawls up Eren’s neck and paints his face scarlet as Yuuta takes a step back, laughter erupting from his chest.

“T-That’s not fair,” Eren stutters. “You cheat!”

But when Eren turns around and sees Yuuta’s boyish smile, his chest taken by a fit of giggles, Eren can’t stay mad. He finds himself laughing too. He knows he can only ever smile when assaulted by Yuuta’s sincere laughter.

“Sorry. You just looked so serious,” Yuuta smiles and even the rain that soaks his body can’t wash away the happiness that radiates from him.

You just want me to wash all the clothes, Eren grumbles mentally, though his smile doesn’t fade.

“A bet is a bet,” Yuuta chides.

“I’m hungry,” Eren says, bringing his bow down to his side. He had intended to practice more archery with Yuuta, but the teasing is leaving his heart and his face in flames. “You better cook us a feast.”

Yuuta’s stunned for just a moment when Eren reaches out and takes Yuuta’s bow and arrow into his hands. He places all of their equipment under one arm and begins to make a mad dash for their cave.

Last one to our cave is a rotten rabbit, Eren thinks with a chuckle as he darts away.

Yuuta can’t help but laugh again. You mean egg? The saying is rotten egg, Eren.

Eren ignores him, picking up speed on his agile, strong feet. Yuuta doesn’t chase after him, pondering Eren’s words as he watches the dragon-boy run towards the beach in the rain.

Because for the first time since Yuuta arrived, Eren had called it our cave.

***

Yuuta has become accustomed to the salty smell of the sea, and it’s the scent that fills his nose now as he stares out into the distance, observing how the moonlight casts light over the dark crests of the sea’s waves. Just below the thrashes of water, he can hear the chirping of bugs and the scurrying of animals into their hideouts for the night. Before, Yuuta had come to regard this island as foreign; now this scenery paints a picture of home.

Yuuta knows that much time has passed, though he doesn’t know exactly how much. What he does know is that it must be at least a year. They have lived through another rainy season. Eren and Yuuta have grown a year taller, a year stronger. Yuuta has learned much of the ways of hunting, enough for him to be able to fetch his own meal if Eren’s too tired to do it himself. Eren has learned many Nymerian words, and Yuuta can say he knows much Valyrian too, enough for them to hold a conversation. Eren no longer wonders if one morning Yuuta will grab a knife against him, nor does Yuuta ever wonder if Eren will hurt him. A year has built trust and friendship between them, a bond that they know is unbreakable. A year has turned them into best friends.

Over the past year Yuuta, too, learns about Eren’s past. Eren doesn’t tell his story all at once–he tells it in pieces. When he made a new knife for Yuuta, Eren told him, “This is a trick my father showed me once before we went on a hunt.” When Yuuta chided Eren for doing something dangerous, Eren said with a laugh, “You sound like my mother.” When Eren burned down several trees with a burst of his blue fire and Yuuta remarked how strong Eren had gotten, Eren replied, “This is nothing. You should have seen my friend Mikasa. She was a prodigy. She burned an entire camp down with her flames.” And one night, as Eren shed tears, he murmured, “Thank you for not laughing at me. My brother always called me a crybaby.” When Yuuta replied, “You do cry a lot, though,” Eren spent the rest of the night facing the cave wall in protest. For Yuuta, all these moments with Eren told him the unspoken tale: that Eren had once lived a life full of people, one that was full of joy, before it was stolen from him, leaving him to face the world alone.

“What’s the outside world like, Yuu?” Eren’s voice cuts through the warm air like a knife, the sound audible over the waves crashing ashore. His long brown hair, even longer than it was when they met, is fastened into a high ponytail (courtesy of Yuuta) and it tumbles over his shoulders. Eren still does not wear much clothes, lying beside Yuuta wearing only a pair of cut-off trousers, but Yuuta thinks he is used to it now (or at least, his heart is no longer threatening to break past his ribs at the sight). Yuuta sits beside him in similar dress, though he always wears a linen shirt over his chest–even after all this time he still is prone to the cold.

Eren’s voice breaks Yuuta out of his thoughts, returning him to the beach where they sit down together admiring the stars. Yuuta lays back against the sand, resting with one arm behind his head. His hair is longer now, and it tickles his neck as he lies down. He stares into the sky, the stars shining bright on this cloudless night, and he thinks of home.

He remembers the palace in Nymeria, surrounded by its beautiful forests of cedar and cherry blossoms, its lakes lined with lotus flowers. He remembers the way fireflies used to illuminate the air at night during the warm summers like this one. He thinks of his sister Rika’s smile whenever he used to place flowers in her hair and his mother’s warmth as she told him stories. For a fleeting moment he even lets himself think of his father, who was once gentle and kind before his grapple with some curse he said had been placed on him by a witch. Yuuta barely remembers that terrifying night so long ago, having pushed it to the recesses of his mind. He wants only to think of the happy days in Nymeria, and it is those that he wishes to tell to his dragon-hybrid companion.

“It’s quite beautiful, Ren,” Yuuta says with a smile. “There are lands made of ice to the north. To the south, lands that are hotter than this island, full of jungles and animals you’ve never seen. The palace sits in the middle of our lands. It’s surrounded by fields of trees and bamboo. There are lakes, too, behind the palace, that look like they’re made of crystals. And we have lots of different fruits too. They’re not as crazy as the ānogar fruit,” he adds with a chuckle, and that makes Eren laugh too. “But they’re really sweet. The lake is surrounded by bushes of strawberries. I think you’d like those fruits a lot.”

“It does sound beautiful,” Eren remarks as he stares out into the dark sea.

“I wish to show you someday,” Yuuta adds, though his voice becomes softer and unsteady. He’s not sure if Eren would ever want the same thing. Would he want to travel to the lands of the outsiders?

“If it’s with you… Maybe,” Eren answers Yuuta’s unspoken question. His cheeks burn but he knows the darkness of night hides his flustered face, so he doesn’t move to hide from Yuuta. “I… I trust you, Yuu,” he adds, turning his eyes down towards the sand between his knees, “I always thought that outsiders would kill me like they did to my family. But you didn’t. You weren’t afraid of me. Maybe I’d go… But only if it’s with you.”

“I’ll show you one day, the world beyond this island,” Yuuta speaks his words towards the vast sky. “Nymeria–you’d love it there, Ren, I promise.”

Love it more than our island? Eren wonders hesitantly. Yuuta doesn’t know how to answer him.

“Is Nymeria the only place out there?” Eren asks, quickly changing the subject. He stuffs whatever feeling that just was to the recesses of his mind.

“No, it’s one of six kingdoms. There were once seven kingdoms in the world, though now it’s just six,” Yuuta replies.

Eren lays down beside him, lying on his side in order to watch Yuuta as he speaks. He watches Yuuta with earnest curiosity, like a child waiting to hear the most ravishing of fairy tales.

“What happened to the seventh?”

“My father, the emperor of Nymeria–”

I knew it, Eren immediately thinks.

“Knew what?” Yuuta asks, turning towards Eren with an inquisitive lift of his brow.

“That you were of high birth,” Eren replies, saying the words as if they were obvious.

“What makes you think that?”

Eren’s gaze meets Yuuta’s, and even in the dark Eren can make out the shine of Yuuta’s sapphires. They shine just as bright as the stars behind him do in the sky.

“When you first came… Your clothes. They were shiny,” Eren says, though it’s not the full truth. In his mind lies his real answer: I’ve always known you were too pretty to be a warrior.

Yuuta ignores his words, as he always does when Eren calls him pretty (which he does quite often, Yuuta realizes). He continues his story, “Yes, my clothes–they were royal garments. I was the prince of my kingdom at home.”

“When you return home… Will you be king?” Eren asks. He feels a pit in his stomach when he asks this question. When Yuuta returns home, I’ll be alone again.

“If I ever return home,” Yuuta corrects him. “I would be a prince just like before. My father is still emperor–if he still lives.”

Eren doesn’t let joy take hold of his emotions, because he knows it would be cruel to wish that Yuuta would never leave. Somewhere deep in his mind, he knows Yuuta one day will have to. But the fact that Yuuta still says ‘if’ gives him hope.

“What did your father do to make it six kingdoms?” Eren sticks a finger in the sand, idly drawing swirls as he speaks, his eyes downcast towards the grains of sand that move with each flick of his wrist.

Yuuta finds that he is hesitant to answer. Pictures of that bloody summer where Nymeria had been invaded by Dricans flood his mind–the fires that burned their lands, the blood that stained the greens of their forests and the blues of their waters, the fear he felt as they encroached on the palace grounds with sights on killing every Nymerian within its walls. Yuuta knows the fears that take hold of Eren’s dreams every night because he has seen his own fair share of evil. But he fears that what happened after that summer will change Eren’s perception of him. What will Eren think when he learns that Nymeria is to blame for the fall of an entire kingdom?

“There was a war between my kingdom, Nymeria, and its neighbor, Drican. They killed many of my people and attacked my home–the palace.” Yuuta has a faraway look in his eyes, no longer looking down at Eren. Instead, his eyes are set on a time in the past. Eren looks up to see Yuuta’s eyes muddied with emotions, and he knows Yuuta must be conflicted about the story he tells. “We fought back but, my father… He took it too far. What started as protecting us, turned into revenge. Even after the Drican warriors surrendered to us, he went and killed them all. Even women and children who begged for their lives… My father ordered for them to be killed. He said if we spared them, they would rise again to murder us all.”

At this, Eren’s body freezes, his finger idling in the sand. Nymeria had done to Drican what the outsiders had done to his people, and he’s not sure how to feel. Should he be repulsed? But Nymeria… That’s where Yuuta comes from. And he knows in his heart Yuuta would never do something like this. Yuuta is too kind, too gentle–even when he hunts rabbits he apologizes to their little bodies. He doubts if Yuuta even has the capacity to kill an entire race of innocents. But still, he must know.

“Do you agree with your father? That they should have all died?” Eren asks. His lips quiver with nervousness, and he finds he can’t meet Yuuta’s eyes. He’s afraid. What if the Yuuta he’s come to know isn’t real? Or what if it’s even worse–that he is truly this kind, but below the surface, he would kill like that?

“No,” Yuuta answers instantly. “No matter the reasons, my father was wrong. He killed innocent people and I hate him for it. Just as you fear what he did–” Yuuta reaches out and grasps Eren’s hand that was in the sand, squeezing it tight. “I fear him too, Ren.”

Eren feels reassured by Yuuta’s touch, easing the tension that had overtaken his body. He meets Yuuta’s gaze once more and is comforted by the familiar sight of Yuuta’s gentle stare. Eren asks, “If you were the king, what would you do to Drican?”

“Put an end to their army and to the fighting,” he starts without hesitation. “Their people would be welcome into Nymeria, and they’d be forgiven. We could live in peace. Together.”

Eren can hear Yuuta’s thoughts, and they echo his sentiments. He smiles, satisfied that Yuuta’s beliefs are fair and just. Yuuta knows what it’s like to be on Eren’s side, and he chooses to hope for a peaceful resolution instead of unnecessary violence. It makes Eren happy to know that Yuuta is as kind as Eren has come to believe he is.

Eren squeezes Yuuta’s hand in return, and Yuuta winces a little–Eren’s a lot stronger than he realizes.

“You would make a really great king, Yuu,” Eren tells him, looking down at their hands. He smiles until he looks up at Yuuta and sees he’s in pain, immediately releasing his hold on Yuuta’s hand. “I’m sorry.”

Yuuta only laughs, his eyes turning to slits as his chest rumbles with mirth. Eren always, without fail, simpers at the sight.

“I think I can still be a king with one hand,” he jokes. Then suddenly, a gust of wind passes over the beach. It does nothing to Eren, but it runs a chill through Yuuta’s body. Eren can sense it when Yuuta’s body shivers.

“Well, you can’t be a king if you die of cold outside,” Eren teases. He rises to his feet and extends out his hand towards Yuuta. Yuuta takes his hand again, with no hesitation. “Come, let’s go home, Yuu.”

***

The day after Eren learns of Yuuta’s status as royalty is a hot morning, the rainy season having passed, leaving the island to heat up once more as the sun barrels down upon its land. Eren sits in the grass surrounded by the flowers that bloom after the long season of rain. Between all the spiked fruits and shrubs grow the most vibrant flowers, a beauty hidden among such threatening flora. Perhaps the island is much like the green-eyed dragon it birthed, beautiful despite the danger that it exhibits to all who gaze upon it.

Beside the jagged leaves of the ānogar fruits grow trees with drooping yellow cassia flowers. The bark of these trees is lined with jagged threats of bloodshed in the form of spikes. Below these trees grow gentler plants, the likes of pink cosmos and red hibiscus. On a farther side of the grassy forest grow shrubs of flowers that Yuuta recognizes as jasmine flowers, having had them back in Nymeria. Eren calls them ovoño flowers, remembering fondly the way his father would take some of these flowers on their hunts to bring back to his mother. His mother once said they are flowers that bring happiness, though how much of that is legend is debatable. Yet over the years Eren has learned that perhaps legends are worth entertaining.

Earlier this morning, while Yuuta hummed his song and picked his kasta berries, Eren found himself taking ovoño flowers from their stems. He gathered them, together with some of the pink cosmos and red hibiscus flowers, and once he had an arm full of flowers, he sat down in the grass, waiting for Yuuta’s return.

“What is that song that you always sing, Yuu?” he asks when Yuuta sits down across from him, placing the spoils of his foraging onto the ground. It is the song that Yuuta always hums that Eren hears upon Yuuta’s return. Eren finds comfort in it, just as he had that first night he heard it those years ago when he had just met Yuuta. But he’s never stopped to question what it is.

There is only one topic Eren never asks about, and that is Yuuta’s family. He knows from the time spent silently observing his raven-haired companion, that Yuuta carries an unspoken burden. Eren knows that oftentimes Yuuta thinks of his sister, his mother, and even his father. Some nights Yuuta ponders what they must be doing, or if they know he is alive. Yuuta still wonders what fate had been bestowed to the rest of the people on the ship that had tossed him onto Eren’s island. Many times Eren sees Yuuta bowed in reverence, his palms pressed together in front of his face, and Eren doesn’t understand what it is that Yuuta is doing, but his actions command silence and so Eren gives it.

“It is a song my mother would sing to me,” Yuuta answers. He pops a berry into his mouth and looks up into the sky, past the line of trees. He has that faraway look in his gaze like he isn’t truly there. His mind lies somewhere in the clouds, contemplating the life he once lived. He swallows the sweet berry, savoring its saccharine taste. With lips stained a teal blue, he adds, “It’s why I sang it to you. She used to sing it to me to help me sleep.”

No wonder you are so kind, Eren thinks. Your mother is too. He brings his hands down to his pile of flowers and begins to twist some of their stems together.

“Was,” Yuuta interjects, his voice barely a whisper above the breeze. “She was kind.”

Eren turns his eyes up to face Yuuta, surprised. Yuuta had never mentioned his mother’s passing. In fact, he always speaks as if she still exists.

“Yuu, your mother…”

“She died just before I washed up on this very shore,” he explains. He wraps his arms around his knees, holding them tight to his chest as he speaks. “I watched my father kill her with his own two hands. He said he was cursed by a witch and it took over his mind. It’s why I left Nymeria. He sent my sister and me away, so he wouldn’t hurt us too. That’s how I ended up on that ship–to get away from my father.”

Eren watches Yuuta with remorse, his eyes downcast. Yuuta lost his mother just days before he got here–and he comforted me? I’m so selfish–

“No, you’re not.” Yuuta instantly turns towards Eren. Under the bright morning sun, Eren’s iridescent scales shine bright, reflecting the light into the most vivid of colors. His eyes complete the picture as they blink back in confusion at Yuuta, giving off a green radiance that nothing else in this world could match. His eyes are truly the window to his soul, and Yuuta knows what stares back at him is a pool of fear and self-doubt, interwoven with his deep love for those he cares for: his family, and now Yuuta, too. “It’s not selfish to miss your family. Your entire race was killed off, Eren. That’s worth grieving for a lifetime.”

“But then… Why don’t you grieve?” Eren asked. “I’ve never seen you cry.”

Yuuta extends an arm out into the air, pointing towards the blue sky devoid of clouds. Eren follows Yuuta’s pointer finger with a curious gaze.

“Back home in Nymeria, we believe in all-powerful beings–gods. And they’re all up there, watching over us in heaven.”

What’s heaven? Eren wonders.

“It’s a really nice place to be, where you have no reasons to be sad. It’s where you go when you die, and my mother’s there somewhere. She’s happy, I’m sure of it. I might not be able to hear her song anymore, but I know she’s watching over me. So, I don’t need to feel sad. Why would I feel sad when I know she’s happy?”

“Is that why you talk to your hands? To talk to the gods?” Eren ponders.

“Talk to my hands?” Yuuta blinks back at Eren, not understanding his words.

Eren places his hands in front of his face, clapping his palms together. “When you do this,” Eren bows his head, touching his fingertips to his forehead. He closes his eyes for a second, before peeking one open.

Yuuta looks at Eren with soft laughter bubbling past his lips. “Yeah, it’s called praying. You talk to the gods and ask for them to give you good things, like good fortune or good weather, and in exchange you promise to do good things, too.”

“So, what do you promise the gods?” Eren asks. Yuuta watches in idle curiosity as Eren’s fingers twist the jasmine stems around a cosmo flower.

“Well, I tell them that I’ll be better than my father if I’m king someday. My father hurt a lot of people–I don’t want to be like him. I want to protect the kingdom and my family, not hurt them.”

“Spoken like a real prince,” Eren replies.

Eren holds up the wreath of flowers that he has made with a smile. Yuuta realizes now what it is that Eren has been doing with his hands: making a crown of flowers. Eren rises to his feet and crosses the distance between them until he’s standing beside Yuuta. Yuuta looks up to see Eren’s expression, a smile laced with just a hint of bashfulness.

“Now that I know you’re a prince, Yuu, I made you a crown. Here you are, my prince.”

The way Eren says ‘my prince’ is comically exaggerated, and Yuuta chuckles before tilting his head towards Eren. Eren places the crown down upon his head, the white, pink, and red flowers standing out beautifully against his dark hair. When Yuuta blinks up at him with those eyes the color of the sky, Eren can’t help but be reminded of how pretty he thinks Yuuta is.

Yuuta hears his thoughts and becomes flustered as well, muttering, “T-Thanks, Ren.”

Eren sits down next to him, mimicking his posture by hugging his own knees close to his chest. He debates whether or not he should for a fraction of a second, before he reaches out to Yuuta to take his hand into his own. He says softly, “I’m sorry about your mom, Yuu. And everything that happened to you. I’m sorry you got stuck out here with me, too.”

“I’m not,” Yuuta replies, squeezing Eren’s hand. “If there was one good thing that came out of it, it was meeting you.”

Eren knows what he feels now is happiness, but tears sting his eyes as if he were sad. He lets go of Yuuta’s hand and tucks his face behind his arms that hug his knees, hoping to hide his face from Yuuta. But Yuuta can hear just the tiniest of a sniffle, and he knows his crybaby is tearing up again. Eren mumbles something from behind his arms, but Yuuta can’t make out the words. He sees scales and horns, but can’t see Eren’s eyes or lips, hidden away behind the cage of his arms.

“What did you say, Ren?” Yuuta asks, and his voice is so gentle. It always is.

Eren picks his head up, just enough to speak and be heard. “I talked to the Gods too.”

“What did you ask for?”

“I lived on the island alone for so long… Maybe I was scared. I thought I’d be alone forever. The night before you came, I sat on the beach and spoke to the stars. I asked the Ancient Dragon to send someone for me. I didn’t want to be alone anymore.”

“The night before I came?” Yuuta asks incredulously.

“Yeah… I think they answered me when they sent you, Yuu.”

Eren turns to look at Yuuta. Yuuta wears a surprised expression, eyes wide and reflecting the clear blue sky within them. Eren turns back to staring at his knees, bashful.

“I’m sorry if my… What did you call it again?”

“Prayer?”

“I’m sorry if my prayer is what made you come here and leave your home behind.”

Somehow Eren had connected his own wishes with what happened to Yuuta, and Yuuta immediately denies such a thing. “Don’t say that Ren. Your prayer is probably what saved me. You asked them to give you a friend, right? So maybe that’s why I survived falling off the ship, to be your friend. Without you, who knows what would’ve happened to me. It was fate that I’m here with you, Ren.”

“What’s fate?” Eren blinks back at him curiously once more.

“When something is just meant to be. The gods wished it so.”

“So you think the gods wanted us to be together?”

“Yeah.” Yuuta nods, his lips curling into a grin. Eren’s eyes flicker up towards the flower crown that adorns his head, and with his sweet smile, he really does look like a prince. “How else would I make it out here if I didn’t have you by my side?”

Eren shoves off the butterfly feeling in his stomach with a laugh. “I think you would’ve been fish food without me, Yuu.”

“Hey!” He elbows Eren’s side, earning him a laugh from the dragon. It’s always so lovely when he can hear Eren’s true, unabashed laughter. Yuuta smiles wholeheartedly, even his eyes form crescents as he laughs alongside him.

“Okay, fine, maybe I would have.”

***

Tagging: @brujaovermoxy @erentoes @starry-supernova @itsalicewickedmcgee @jaeger-xo @whore4jean @broken-freedom @raechulashleigh @fqiryspit

Thank you for reading!

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