#both tend towards being healers in their friend groups | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gojotenshi · 1 year

Text

No one should have found out that she was an omega, least of all the crown prince of Yuei.

But Izuku Midoriya was smart.

With two other lives on the line, Lia made the choice of accepting the deal given by the prince - her submission for his secrecy.

It should have been an easy arrangement, if not for the group of homicidal maniacs that had been using omegas as a bartering coin in order to take over the kingdom and the prince’s penchant for wanting more than she was willing to give.

Fate was just one big joke, was it not?

Chapter Three - don't know if you love me or you want me dead

a/n: wanted chapter four done before i posted this chapter but fuck it because that one has taken my mental power? because he does not wish to cooperate. no sexual scenes on this one and it's shorter compared to the past two chapters. hope you guys like it! not beta'd as always

wc: 6745 words

warnings: omegaverse dynamics, omegaverse based sexism, general foul language, slight gore (?), toxic behavior

chapter 1 | chapter 2

The fight was over and Lia held her heart on her throat, feeling like she couldn’t breathe as the dust still hadn’t settled. There was no victorious shout, no cackling laughter. Katsuki was hurt, one arm hanging limply at his side, gash on his shoulder bleeding. There were already dark bloomings of bruises on his chest and he had a split lip and probably a broken nose as well.

Ochako was buried beneath rubble, the exploded rocks she had been using as projectiles pining her down to the ground. They were both panting, but it was obvious who had been the winner of their battle. There was a roar of cheers from the crowd that had watched the both of them, deafening in its volume as the pounding of her heart kept a fast rhythm.

Her friend had lost.

For the first time in a while, Ochako had lost a battle. One she had even prepared for, taken in lieu of Lia because she had wanted to protect her. Guilt churned on her gut at the thought that she was at fault for her friend’s injuries, for having made the alpha so angry that he had to go after someone. It didn’t matter that Ochako had chosen to fight, had been the one to give the time and place. Lia had been the one to set the dominos tumbling down when she had held Katsuki back from burning the library to the ground.

He took a step forward, then another, and the brunette almost leapt out of her place before the blond collapsed on the ground, finally giving in to his injuries. Silence fell upon the training grounds before, finally, she jumped from her spot at the fence to go towards her friend. Small legs ate away the distance in more time than she would have liked, but it prompted others to follow her. It was good because the omega doubted that she would have the strength to move the rubble away from her unconscious friend. In the corner of her eye she could see another group tending to Katsuki, Eijiro picking him up to probably bring him to the infirmary.

“Oh God.” Lia winced as more of her friend’s body was uncovered, trembling hands touching the torn skin and the obviously broken arm. Hopefully the healers would be able to heal her back to shape.

“Fuck, ok, so gotta make some painkillers.” Mina winced next to her, and both of them worked to quickly adjust Ochako on a stretcher that had somehow materialized - someone must have brought it in, right? Ah, it didn’t really matter who had brought it, just that they could take Ochako to the healers.

Two soldiers from the same division as her friend picked the wooden handles of the stretcher, quickly making their way with the two omegas in tow, worry etched on all of their faces, though the two betas did leave once her friend was resting in one of the cots, opposite the blond that had put her there in the first place. It was obvious that though she had gotten quite the damage, her friend had done her fair share of it.

The oldest of the healers was shuffling closest to the prince, a kiss being pressed to his forehead, breathing easing as the quirk worked its magic. The one that approached them was young, soft and sweet, flower petals being placed on her friend’s forehead and just bellow her throat. It was with amazement as Lia watched them dissolve into the skin, tinging it a deep red that soon dissipated through the body, turning pink before fully integrating into her body. There was a sickening crack as the bone pulled itself back together, skin knitting over the now correctly set arm. Though unconscious, there was a whimper, as if she had actually felt the pain of the healing, as if it wasn’t simple magic at work but a quickening of the time it would have taken Ochako to heal by herself.

“She should be back into shape by tomorrow.” The voice is as soft as the face, kind eyes taking in both her and Mina, each one holding one of Ochako’s hand now that the broken arm had been dealt with. “You’re free to stay here, but she does need rest.”

It wasn’t really a chiding, just an advice, but it deflated both omegas anyway. And the fact was that they both had work to do, even if worry would hold their attention, keeping them here with their friend, their sister. There was nothing more than Lia wanted than to make sure Ochako would be well, the fear that another loved one would be torn from her was deep seated. It didn’t matter that she was safe, that there were people who could so easily fix a broken bone. This was someone she loved, deeply. Her sister by choice and circumstance.

“Let them stay, Ao.” The voice was stern but it held an edge of softness that left Lia in a strange sense of ease. Lia didn’t really know Chiyo, had mostly only heard from the old beta from Nezu and some of the scholars that were interested in the medicinal arts and quirks. Motherly. That was how her presence was read. That strength of sternness wrapped up in the softness of caring. A core of steel and a coat of silk. “The presence of loved ones always helps.”

“Thank you.” Mina bowed with a warm smile, and the brunette tilted her head in acknowledgment, though her fingers gripped Ochako’s tighter.

A wave of a deeply wrinkled hand, so small and yet the benefits it could sow were so great “Everyone expected the fight to be grand, but not as long as it was.” Fifteen minutes. That’s how much Ochako had lasted against Katsuki before being overpowered by the blunt force of his attacks. Lia probably wouldn’t have lasted more than a minute, and that was counting on her being able to use her quirk. Mina would probably fare better, but Ochako had always been the skilled fighter out of the three of them. “Your friend did well, but…” eyes went to the unconscious prince before setting on the three once more “I would wonder what the lasting effects will be.”

Of catching the attention of a dangerous alpha.

Lia didn’t know if that was what Choiyo meant, but it was what she deduced, what she felt on her skin. There was no way there wouldn’t be repercussions of her friend going against Katsuki, and even if she lost, she had still managed to bring him to the edge. If curiosity had been what made her appear in Izuku’s radar, the absolute bloodbath that had been the battle probably would catch Katsuki’s attention. And then there was the fact that Ochako smelled something on him that the other two omegas didn’t, that there was an added incognita that hadn’t been on their plans.

There had to be some meaning to it. The same way there had to be a meaning to why Izuku smelled like lightening. What came to mind was a bit scary if she was honest, and damn right stupid.

“She’ll be fine, she’s a survivor.” Mina smiled softly, and Lia nodded in agreement. They were all survivors, first due to the protection of their parents and then due to their own resilience. They would survive some hard headed alphas and come back on top, they always did.

✧ — ⋆ — ✧

“How’s Uraraka?”

Izuku’s voice took her out of the daze that Lia had found herself in, worry for her friend still present in her mind even if she had been more than stable when both omegas had left the infirmary.

“Still out.” She sighed and proceeded to finally put the book she had been holding back on its place, it wouldn’t do well to keep staring at it, if she hadn’t been able to even read the title, she wouldn’t be able to read the actual pages, would she? “Choiyo said that it would take her a while to wake up due to her injuries.”

Most had been internal, some bleeding and broken ribs from the rubble that had been brought down on her. Then there had been the broken arm. The prince gave a hum, settling next to her while she continued to put books away, it wasn’t the first time that she wondered if he didn’t have anything better to do than stay by the library. She wasn’t egotistical enough to think she was the reason, after all, the prince had been a fixture long before she even came to the castle. It was just that she sometimes would rather be alone with her thoughts.

“If it will make her feel better when she wakes up, Kachaan was pretty beat up too.” He mused with a chuckle, making Lia turn to him with a soft gaze.

“How was he?”

“He’s back in his room with orders to rest.” He grinned “Pretty pissed off at not being able to wipe the floor with your friend, so he’s fine, recovered.”

That did bring a smile to her face. “Ochako’s always been the best fighter out of the three of us.”

“She was inspiring, you know.” He crossed his arms and looked out at the window, it was already becoming dusk, the sky turning to shades of orange and purples that would soon bleed into navy. “Kachaan is ruthless in everything he does, that includes the fight. And she managed to keep up with him, and if he hadn’t landed the hit that broke the rocks she was levitating, well… he might very well have been the loser.”

“She’ll love to hear that.” And Lia was going to tell her friend, even if it would bring questions of why the crown prince was talking to her in the first place. Though they knew that he came to the library, neither of her friends was privy to the arrangement that she had with Izuku. After all, they would rather leave than allow Lia to sacrifice her body and mind for their sake.

Which was kind of funny because she didn’t think of it as a sacrifice. It was more of a task, just something she had to do in order to keep up appearances. And though he was a menace, the prince wasn’t half as bad when he wasn’t teasing her or dropping his cheery half dumb persona.

“She has great control of her quirk.” He commented after a minute or so of silence, Lia thought that the conversation had simply died down, and honestly, his presence was always very reassuring, his scent settling in a way that she did not want to think about.

“She does.”

“Which makes one wonder why don’t you?” Lia sighed, of course they would have to circle back to her. For some reason, Izuku was interested in her, which meant that her quirk would have to eventually come out into conversation. She just didn’t think it would be over her mastery of it.

“I do have control of my quirk, your highness.” A huff was given, as well as a roll of her eyes, the brunette moving to another shelf so she could continue her job. As always, Izuku followed.

“Holding my brother for less than a minute is considered control?” he wasn’t accusing, but his tone held a slight edge of mocking that made her hackles rise.

“I don’t make it a habit of using it on living beings.” She bit back with an irritated huff, it only annoyed her further when he just seemed to smirk at that, as if she had just proven his point.

“Which is exactly what you should be doing.”

“It’s wrong!” couldn’t he see it? The fact that living beings had wills and messing with that wasn’t on her plans? Something that Lia didn’t wish to do, not now and not ever. But how could he understand when his powers had to do with physical prowess and nothing like hers? It was stupid and annoying and so not fair.

But when had her life even been fair?

“It is.” She looked at him dumbfounded when he agreed with her, a shrug of his shoulders being given before he was frowning “But so is burning a whole village to the ground. Decaying anyone that gets on your way. Stabbing them with glee.” Oh. “We can try to fight fire with water, and it might help in most cases, but on this one…” his frown deepened and the omega had the sudden urge to soften the skin of his brow with her hand. What the fuck was wrong with her? He continued as if she wasn’t having an internal conflict with herself. “On this one, I am afraid it has to be fire with fire.”

“You don’t think defeating them is enough.” Even though she had already gotten to that conclusion, her heart still bled for the pain that shone behind his green eyes, usually so bright and striking, now dulled and somber.

“I think this will end in death.” A deep breath. In. Out. “Ours or theirs.”

✧ — ⋆ — ✧

Ochako left the infirmary with a healed body and a bruised ego. But all Lia could care about was the fact that her friend was awake and whole, though it did give Mina more teasing ammunition that she probably didn’t need. She was already famous enough for being able to tease them about anything, and now Ochako had lost to an alpha.

“Just saying ‘Chako, dear, you pulled your punches.” A giggle was given at the look of sheer and utter betrayal that passed over the brown eyes of their friend, and Lia did have to hold back a giggle behind her palm. It had been obvious that there hadn’t been any pulled punches, the other omega had given her all.

“He’s a beast.” Ochako pouted, puffy cheeks becoming even more pronounced before she blew the air and shook her head “He has no self preservation instincts, it’s all or nothing. Did you see the way he blasted his way through the rocks I threw at him? I think he broke a finger or two doing that.”

Probably, though they had been given the extent of their friend’s injuries, they hadn’t been told about the prince’s. Mostly, he had been tired and overworked, but she didn’t doubt that there should be some sort of injuries that they couldn’t see. But who would claim the weakness of the second in line? No one in their right mind, that’s for sure.

“And he had some internal bleeding, really nasty stuff, really.” The voice was bright and cheery, the smile sharp not because of wickedness but because of the sharp pointy teeth. Had he been born with those or had he filed them down? Maybe that was a question for another time, because besides prince Izuku, Eijiro Kirishima would of course be the only one brave enough to speak of Katsuki’s injuries… Or was that more dumb that smart?

“Kiri!” Mina grinned widely, throwing herself into the arms of the much taller alpha, who laughed whole heartedly and spun her around with a shout of her name. It was cute, and Lia wondered when Mina had met the alpha, and why Ochako was looking at him with something akin to awe and reserve.

Lia had the thought that was how she had first looked at Izuku. Or maybe she was just thinking of the worst case scenarios.

But the saying must be true, speaking of the devil did seem to summon him. Even if it had only been on her mind.

“Kirishima don’t go on telling the whole castle of Kachaan’s injuries or he’ll have your head.” Izuku laughed, waving off the bows and calls of your highness from her two friends. They did eye her after noticing she hadn’t bowed, and Lia almost flushed at the faux pas, too used to his presence now to even think of his damn title. Of course she should have bowed to the fucking prince, instead she had just glared at him as if the two of them had been alone.

“Midoriya, don’t be like that, she deserves to know the ass kicking she gave Bakubro.” Instead of letting go of Mina, he allowed her to climb to his shoulder, easily sitting on the expanse of it. Alone he was already big and intimidating if not for the smile on his face, next to Izuku, who already towered over the three omegas, Eijiro’s size was monstrous. Probably due to his quirk, or something of the sort. He probably towered over Katsuki as well, and the second in line was already taller than his brother as well.

Prime alphas.

The hazy designation came to her suddenly, a story her mother had told her when she was younger. The stronger and the fastest, the ones more in tune with the inner wolves they had descended from, that they still held the secondary gender from. They were the apex predators, the ones everyone wanted to be or wanted to be claimed by. Rarer than omegas were becoming.

Three of them in the same castle, what were the odds?

But it did make some sort of sense that Izuku was so keen on dominating as he was, an exacerbated trait from his alpha heritage made even stronger by his prime status. Maybe she did need to search for some information about it, because maybe the power exhibited by the League was somehow related to that same designation. If they were dealing with primes… fuck, things had just gotten even more dangerous.

“Are you sure, your highness?” the happiness and adoration in Ochako’s voice brought Lia back from her thoughts, cheeks flushing at being caught so out of herself. Quickly, her aqua eyes settled on the two alphas, noticing the curious glance that Izuku gave her, a later being mouthed without her even meaning to. His gaze shone with surprise and was that… happiness?

“I am, Lady Uraraka.” The omega’s eyes widened at the title, mouth hanging open as she looked at her friend. Did that mean that Izuku would be… “I think you will like to know that the request was put in by my brother himself.” Surprise flared OChako’s nostrils, brown eyes blinking in confusion, mirroed by the other two omegas.

“Why would he..?” the question hung in the air, answered with a shrug of Izuku’s shoulders.

“I’m not going to pretend to understand the way my brother thinks sometimes, but he was impressed by your prowess, Uraraka, and I am more than glad that father has decided that he would be accepting the proposal.” His smile was gentle, beaming, warm. Something in Lia melted a little at that look, as if the sun was shining from within him. “Everyone was impressed by your fight and your prowess with just a few months of intensive training. Your superiors had nothing but commendations to give you, and it has been proven first hand that you are an asset if you could go against my brother for as long as you did. Knighting you will be an honor.”

“’Chako!” Mina screamed, jumping from Eijiro’s shoulders and running towards the smaller omega who was opening her mouth like a fish out of water. There were tears on the corner of three pairs of eyes, bodies coming together in a deep hug. It had been a dream of Ochako, to be a knight, more than a soldier, there was something to being tasked with defending honor and values and not just the land. It was something that many vied for but only a handful got.

There was a need for a formal request from a patron, someone of high standing or another knight; then there was the need to ascertain skills and character. It was an arduous process, and from the handful of people, only one of two ever did reach the King’s blessing. And without even meaning to, her friend had managed it.

“Oh my god!” Mina laughed, pressing pecks to Ochako’s cheek as Lia rubbed her own with hers, even if they didn’t exude any scent due to the concoction, that didn’t mean that instincts weren’t instincts. And all she wanted was to show how happy she was for her friend.

“You’re going to be a Knight!” laughter fell from her lips, fingers gripping her friend’s arms as they jumped in glee. “Lady Ochako Uraraka! Can you believe that?”

“Not really, I… Oh!” laughter and tears ran at the same time, wetting cheeks and warming hearts. It was a pretty sight, three friends congratulating one of them for a job well done. “Thank you so much, your highness, thank you.”

Izuku shook his head while Eijiro just laughed “You should thank Kachaan if you can manage to catch him.” A slow, amused grin was given “I think he would appreciate some gratefulness.”

“I’ll make sure to thank prince Bakugo for his generosity.” A bow was given, copied by Mina and Lia as they still hadn’t let go of their friend, much to the amusement of the two alphas in front of them.

“My mission here has been resolved.” A nod of Izuku’s head, a meaningful look being sent to Lia, completely missed by the other three, but the brunette was well aware that she would have to deal with a noisy prince later in the day. Hopefully in a public space.

As her body warmed at the thought of alone time with the prince, she wondered who she was trying to fool besides herself.

✧ — ⋆ — ✧

Izuku was smart, had always been. It was there before the brawn had come in, and would always stay even as he lost it once again. He was good at strategies, trusted to resolve the trickier court problems and asked to tutor some of the children. So it had been no surprise that he had found out the secret of the pretty new addition to the court, what had been a surprise had been the time it had taken him to make that discovery.

Rather, for the first month and a half, he hadn’t even noticed anything more than her presence. A sure, steady thing that caught his attention but was quickly brushed out of his mind. He had more pressing matters to attend to, not only his duties to the crown and his people but the information he was trying to gather on the League. So yes, there had been some sort of unconscious draw to the brunette, but nothing that had warranted his full attention.

And then he had noticed the missing manuscripts. The texts that he had been trying to get his hands on had always seemed to disappear right before he needed them. Of course, they would reappear just a week later, but by then he had found new ways to gather the same information. He was a resourceful one, after all, his research was based as much on texts as it was on hands on methods.

At first, he had thought it was a spy. Someone who knew what he was looking for and got to it before he did, thwarted him at every corner, and the suspicions had fallen to the library beta that had arrived at the same time the coincidences had started.

There had been no proof at first, only suspicions, but then Izuku had seen her sneak into the Hall of Records.

The proof that he had needed.

She had to be a spy sent to thwart their progress, to make sure that the League stayed out of their reach, that they could complete their nefarious plan.

But he needed more proof before confronting the brunette. Had to be sure of his suspicions because above all, he was a fair alpha, and he didn’t want to accuse someone who held no guilt. As such, he had broken into her room, found what he soon understood was her research.

What he thought would have been information on him and the inner workings of the court ended up being research on the League. Still information Lia shouldn’t have been privy to, information that he had buried in the hall of records and thought that no one would find, spy or not.

His was still more complete, after all, he had the counter intelligence that gathered information behind the lines, the people that he had stationed in the seedy bars the League usually went to. His could be better, but she still had some, and he had no clue why. Not the why of her wish to gather details and plans, not the why of why she even needed that information.

There had been so many questions. And that had made him pay closer attention to her.

Much to his surprise, there had been a draw, something that he couldn’t quite pinpoint. It had been there before, a pinch on his conscience that ached to look for someone. Always happening when the brunette was near, but he had never connected the dots, not at first.

And it had bothered him, this kind of obsession that he couldn’t shake. The need to look for her even when she wasn’t in the room, as if the beast inside of him was calling out for its partner. It was biological and instinctual and Izuku did not enjoy it.

So he had confronted her, waited until she was alone and vulnerable. Caught her red handed in something. After all, why would she and her friends be inside a barely lit room in a hallway that was barely used? He had decided then, maybe on a whim, that he would get to wash her off of him. Satiate himself with her body and mind and then simply go on with his life while she went on with hers.

It was a really good idea.

On paper.

In reality he had found out that the beta they had hired was lying through her teeth. An omega. She had found a way to fully hide her designation as if it wasn’t impossible, as if the prince himself hadn’t tried to do it for as long as he had presented. There was just something quite not there when it came to hiding your designation, in a way the smell of alpha still clung to him when he used moonclover. But not to her, and as he deduced after finding out what she was, neither to her friends.

On the outside they appeared as a beta would, no one had suspected them. And there he had been, finding out that they had not only one but three omegas in the kingdom. And as he soon after found out, the same ones that had somehow escaped the League’s attack.

And he still hadn’t managed to get a lot of answers to his questions. Even though she had accepted his deal ( blackmail? ). Even after he had touched her, mellowed her out with pleasure. There had been no answers. Cards held close to her chest.

Maybe if she was easier to ply, easier to work around, maybe he could have washed himself off the obsession that seemed to clung to his inner workings. Maybe he wouldn’t search for her outside of the thirsts he set. Maybe he wouldn’t look for her, wish to protect her, keep her close.

Something was missing, and that incognita held his interest more than he had ever could have foreseen. It was stupid and unplanned and unlike him.

A mess of instinct.

And something Izuku had never been was a slave to such baser desires. He was ruled by logic and knowledge, by sheer determination. He should have never been an alpha, hadn’t even been born with a quirk, if it wasn’t for the king taking him under his wings, adopting him and giving his mother a place to stay…

His life would have been much different, wouldn’t it? Instead he had presented as an alpha instead of the beta everyone thought he would have been. His adoptive father’s quirk had been passed down to him, and he had become the official crown prince. His tenacity and the will to protect the kingdom had solidified the choice, even when he had no powers.

He worked harder than anyone, tried his best. Would go to the moon and back if it would help better the lives of those under his rule. The League was a danger to everyone, and that was where his attention should be.

Not on the omega that was starting to burrow under his skin.

✧ — ⋆ — ✧

When Izuku said later, Lia had been expecting him to do what he had done before and jump into her room. Apparently, later meant pebbles thrown into her room to catch her attention. Which was silly and something she had seen in romance books, not real life. And whatever there was between her and the prince definitively didn’t belong in a romance, maybe one o fthe books stowed away in the corner of the library that made everyone blush and giggle.

He wanted her body and her secrets, maybe her mind as well, but definitively not her soul or personality. He wanted to know how she and her friends had managed to pass as betas. He wanted to know why she had an interest in the League. He wanted to know what she had planned and why she had planned it. There was no romance, no flowers, no giggles and shared looks.

He wanted more than she was willing to give.

There were quick steps taken from where she had been resting on her desk to the window, hands laid on the windowsill so she could lean to look at him. “Are you crazy?” Lia questioned, green eyes darting from side to side in worry. Wasn’t this all supposed to be a secret? Him throwing pebbles and having to speak louder to reach her.

Their dirty little encounters could still ruin her reputation, she wasn’t just an omega, she was also a woman. And women shouldn’t frolic before marriage. Or at least, they shouldn’t be caught doing it.

“Everyone is asleep, live a little.” He laughed at her affronted expression. “Nezu’s the only one who sleeps at this side and he’s with Aizawa.”

“Oh.” It still had been quite the gamble, hadn’t it? “What do you want?”

“To spank you again, apparently.” Was that mirth? And yet, she couldn’t help the flush that spread across her cheeks at the memory of his touch on her skin, of the warmth and the sting of it all. She hadn’t been able to sit without squirming for two days. A reminder of their time together. One that hadn’t been as unpleasant as it should have been.

“Why would…” Oh yeah, his stupid rules. Lia rolled her eyes at Izuku “Why are you here, master?”

If someone heard them, she was going to kill him, consequences be damned.

“Jump.”

Did he just? “This is the second floor!” she hissed at him, shaking her head, baffled by his absolute disregard for her safety. Didn’t she have to be healthy and unharmed to be his little toy? Lia certainly didn’t have his powers or even his training, jumping from the second floor would hurt her.

“I know, kitten.” Another quick look to each side from Lia, hoping that no one would hear them, even if Izuku wasn’t bothered by the possibility, she was. “I’ll catch you.”

“What if you miss?” what if she hurt him when she fell, it was still a good distance, she would gain enough momentum that her weight would be greater than it was. “What if you can’t catch me?”

“Trust me.”

Those words made her eyes widen, her mouth open in a gasp at the indecency of them. Not because they were lascivious but because between the two of them, it wasn’t like trust was a needed detail. He wanted her submission, her body, her pleasure and his own. She didn’t have to trust him to submit to him, right? She hadn’t even wanted to submit in the first place, but had been coerced into it. Did it matter that she actually enjoyed it? Did it matter that he was worried with her pleasure as much as he was worried about his own?

“C’mon, kitten, I’m not asking for much.”

He was. Izuku was asking for something that she definitively wasn’t ready to do. A deep breath was given, no, he really wasn’t asking for much, was he? She only had to trust him with her body, nothing more. That was all he was asking, right?

“You’re crazy.” But even then, Lia was climbing onto the windowsill, glad that she hadn’t changed into her night clothes or she would have flashed the prince. Did he mind? Probably not. But she also would rather not get caught in such a position by the guards that kept patrol.

A deep breath was given before she jumped, hands clamped on her mouth so she didn’t scream at the feeling of falling, waking up the few people who slept near her rooms. God, she was going to get hurt, she was going to break her bones, she was going to…

Be caught.

Strong arms wrapped around her, cradled her to his chest, having caught her middle fall, a squeak leaving Lia when he landed with her. “I can’t believe I jumped.” She was as crazy as he was, heart beating like the wings of a hummingbird, hair wild from the fall.

And still, she was smiling.

It had been crazy and stupid and reckless, but she still felt kind of proud that she had actually gone through with it, that she had managed to jump from the window. “You did.” Izuku himself laughed, one arm wrapping around her shoulders and bringing her close, nose pressing against the top of her head before he nuzzled her. “You did well, kitten.”

The praise coupled with the pet name he had given her made her flush, body disentangling from his own so she could hide the reaction. Though by the glance that she stole before she turned, the smug tilt of his lips said that he was well aware of her reaction.

“Why did you bring me out of my room anyway?” it was easier to distract him, take his attention away from her warm cheeks than to come to terms with the why of such reaction. He was being pushy, was trying to get her to give him more than she was comfortable with. There were rules in the coerced relationship, an unbalanced dynamic that she should hate more than anything.

And yet, here Lia was, waiting for his words instead of still being in her room.

“You promised me an explanation earlier…” his voice was held amusement, head tilting to the side before he was walking towards the training grounds, not even bothering to tell her if she should follow him or not. It was obvious was it not? “And I happen to think that it would be fun to take a midnight stroll.”

There was something wrong with the second part of his logic, there was so double meaning there. Somehow Lia didn’t think that he wanted to do something so leisurely with her. At least he was slowing down his pace, allowing her smaller legs to keep up with his pace. And still, she was worried about what he may be planning, especially in such an open field during the night.

“What do you know about primes?” the question seemed to surprise him, steps halting so he could turn his body to hers, curiosity and interest colliding on his green eyes.

“Oh?” he grinned widely at that, and then there it was, that out of focus stare, Lia certainly wouldn’t need a book now, would she? “There is little information about them in the books, which is not a wonder having into account that both prime alphas and omegas are really rare. The latter of which is becoming even rarer with the dwindling number of omega births.” The amount of knowledge that his brain could hold was impressive, and Lia could only stare transfixed as he continued “They’re said to just be more… I think that’s the best kind of explanation I can give you. Alphas are more aggressive, stronger, faster.” A frown “I would think prime omegas would just be more submissive in nature, but there’s actually no accounts of them, not like there are of alphas. But you have to think they exist, there is always some sort of balance in the world, right?”

“I would think so.” She really wasn’t sure, there were so many incognitos, even more when… “But how can one know when we’re locked up after marriage? And even before, if you aren’t kept inside four walls, there is the risk of someone kidnapping you, of attacking you and marking you. Either way, our lives get stolen.”

He frowned “And we’re going to change that.”

There was no helping the laughter that slipped from her lips, much to his distaste. “Oh, please, we’ve gone over this. You cannot change the world.”

“Your faith in me is staggering.” He drawled out in irritation, restarting his pace, this time she had to jog to keep up with him.

“Why do you expect so much from me, your highness?”

He was quick to stop, turn until his gloved hand was clutching her jaw, making her look at him with startled aqua eyes “Why do I keep having to remind you of the fucking rules?” it was like whiplash with him, like from one moment to the other he turned from jovial to brooding.

“I forget.” And she did. She really did forget his stupid rules and the why of them. She forgot that she was nothing but a means to pleasure. A mystery that he wanted to solve, one that she kept trying to thwart him from finding out. Lia wanted to keep him away, and yet it seemed that everything she did only made him try and entangle himself in her life.

“You forget.” He snickered, eyes malicious as he let go of her chin, hands coming to rest on her shoulders before he turned once more, forcing her to move in front of him, facing the forest that bordered the training grounds. She hadn’t noticed that they had walked around the grounds instead of entering them, which kind of made sense if they wanted privacy. “This was going to be a fun little game.” He commented lightly, pushing her towards the woods.

Lia turned to look at him confused, brows furrowed and mouth slightly open. He continued “I wanted to help you train for a little bit, maybe even have your use your quirk on me for us to understand your limits on living beings.”

He planned on helping her? Why would he do it? “Master,…”

“No, you don’t get to remember it now.” She didn’t understand why he was so frustrated with her, it wasn’t the first time that he had to remind her about the damn title rule, so what had changed? Was it because she didn’t believe in his willingness to make it a better world for omegas? On his claims that he could change things? That he could help her and her friends? “So, kitten,” the pet name held a sharpness that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, one step backwards being given. Izuku smirked sharply at that. “I’m going to be really, really, nice and give you five minutes of head start.”

“Why would I need that?” even though Lia was asking, in the back of her mind she already knew the answer, already knew why he would want to give her time. Why she shouldn’t even wait for his answer before bolting towards the dark cluster of trees. It should worry her that the idea of such wasn’t bringing dread and fear into her body, no, it was anticipation and arousal that were spread across her veins. Instincts that she had thought tamped down because of the lack of scents, there but hidden away, coming to the surface.

“Because I’m going to hunt you down.”

#deku x oc #midoriya izuku smut #my hero academia smut #izuku midoriya smut #boku no hero academia smut #bnha smut #mha smut #deku smut #izuku x oc #alpha izuku #alpha deku #alpha izuku midoriya

48 notes · View notes

scrambledtrolls · 3 months

Text

A list of the trolls I remember having

Izuili Liinui: The current pfp. An olive-jade cusp. A flirty but cautious artist. Engages in things both legal and... Less than legal. Though the less than legal things get pinned on a certain other person.

Zatter Akkuru: Seadweller. Anxious with anger issues and trauma. Currently engaged with some less than stellar influences.

Kizrak Dorzuo: Yellowblood. Mechanic and maker of limbs. A good obedient 'ol little lowblood. But for how long?

"Cheese" Lyvere: Blueblood. Socially anxious chef working towards broadening his horizons. Got anger like a piping pot, quiet til it boils over.

Fukkau: Jadeblood. A cop who doesn't hesitate to use her power when needed. Even when that need is to sate her hunger for flesh. Has no issue with killing or culling if anyone gets on her nerves.

Zedorn Terrae: Brownblood. Telepathic and nosier than he should be. Seems timid and meek with a build like a twig. Don't let looks decieve though, Mind psiionics have a way of getting their way.

Weilee: Tealblood. Friendly and eager to lend a shoulder or fist whenever things get out of hand at a party. Known to some as a kind mediator, to some as a busybody who butts in where they're not needed. Believes in the more abstract and that the mind and nature can do more than we think.

Mauban Alaife: Hemoanon. A ghostbuster and ghosthunter. He's got powers he shouldn't but when asked he just tells you that dealing with the supernatural does that sometimes. He has a lame fast-food dayjob and enjoys being an annoyance. He has a rotation of cats coming in and out of his hive when they need tending to or can't find food.

Silver Seluki: F1 racing cryptid. Been in many crasshes and survived stuff they definitely shouldn't have. Only ever puts up their visor during interviews so nobody really knows what they look like. An aggressive driver who just turns up in ads and media at the weirdest moments. Fuel ad? Sure. Window cleaning sponges? Weird but ok. Sudden Silver Seluki poster (one that doesn't exist to buy) in the background in an episode of a niche romance series that has the budget of 3 cans of catfood??? More likely than you think.

Buster: Blueblood in the fleet. Chipper and happy to serve her empire. Used to be involved in some gang activity back in her younger days.

Erhart: Seadweller. Involved with horrorterrors and eldritch fuckery, have been since early days. Willingly. He's a bit of a freak.

Luminn: Seadweller. Spoilt child, throw in the trash.

Guirra: Indigoblood. Angry little child with an unspeakable rage towards seadwellers, also throw in the trash.

Detective: Blueblood. A private investigator who takes on cold cases and insits on using older, less "traceable" tech.

Frible: Yellowblood. Healer mage, or so he says.

Rosary: Dead? Redblood. Ashes and fire risen, but not like a phoenix.

Shifter?: Brownblood. A shifter who fights for a living. For 'entertainment'.

Forgotten name: Dead. Oliveblood and friend to a certain group.

#OH NO #NOT MY BOI!#List of trolls #fantrolls #longpost #long post #might have forgotten some and I'll be like or something. nearly forgot mauban tbh lol

2 notes · View notes

rvby · 2 months

Text

“i wish i could have died in the place of my friends.”

twisted so he is essentially dead to the world and forgotten by all who knew him, yet the friends in question (guren/kotetsu/miwa) are all successfully brought back to life. if he’s working with another magical girl/boy who dies, the pain of their death is transferred to him and they survive, but forget him in the process. the same for any fatal damage taken by someone who either considered him or who he considered a ‘friend,’ regardless of distance.

- Kyubey came to him as he realized he was the sole survivor of the accidental fire which lead to the deaths of his three friends, who insisted he escape first. Knowing they were already dead before paramedics could get to them, he wished for them to live, at the cost of his death.

- His ability is “Sacrifice” (Redirect injuries inflicted on allies towards himself).

- His weapon is that of sharp, jagged icicles used as blades.

- Due to the nature of his ability, he works best in a pair or small group, staying behind to take damage as his allies attack. However, he’s rather fearful of working with allies due to the lasting effects of his wish. He used to be able to fight on his own without relying so much on his ability, but as he’s aged, his ability in battle has weakened, and he has had to rely on others to attack in his stead.

- Typically, he staves off from fighting witches as long as possible, in order to minimize the risk of being forgotten.

- Is very used to pain at this point. Even when fully healed, he’s constantly in pain dealt by the psychological damage of dying repeatedly.

- His ideal team is with a healer, a defender, and an attacker. The defender protects himself and his healer as he takes damage in place of the attacker. While he’s gotten close with both a healer and defender, their attacker tends to come and go as they survive death and forget him.

- Since he doesn’t legally exist anymore, he’s been left to wander on his own for a long time. Usually, he’s able to convince an ally to let him stay for a few days, but currently has a semi-permanent residence with his team.

- His soul gem is in the shape of a silver rectangle that acts as a clasp for his cape.

#self #reposting just the first half bc im still forever undecided about his witch/doppel

0 notes

ailelie · 2 years

Text

background and characters

Amelia has a gift--she can peacefully end someone's life with a kiss.

She uses this gift as a healer. When she has reached her limit of knowledge and skill on how to help someone, she offers them the option of death whenever they desire it. She never forces the decision on anyone.

As a healer, Amelia listens, digs to find first causes, and provides treatment and cures. Outside of that role, however, she is very impatient and tends toward absolutes. She knows people fear her for her gift, but that is, in her opinion, their problem, not hers. She is abrasive and, while not cruel, not particularly empathetic or kind either.

Evelyn is Amelia's former friend. Once upon a time they both studied under the local healer together until the healer decided Amelia would be her successor. Evelyn now works at her family's tavern-inn. Evelyn is a people person; she's very good at getting to know people and encouraging them to work together. She tends to exhaust herself on other people, never wanting to be selfish or to stand back when she can act.

They parted because Evelyn got tired of always giving and never receiving anything from Amelia. Amelia blames Evelyn entirely for the end of their friendship. She's the one who left, after all.

Amelia says Evelyn wants her to pretend to be someone else just to make other people comfortable. Evelyn says she just wants Amelia to care about other people as more than vectors of illness to treat or cure and to meet people where they are rather than refusing to ever cede any ground.

Amelia doesn't know it, but Evelyn is the one who pushes patients her way even still and who keeps the townspeople from denouncing Amelia as a witch or villain. Evelyn hates that she can't ever completely let Amelia go.

Neither of them knows that Amelia is actually the subject of a prophecy. She is the only one who can bring death to the immortal ruler of the kingdom, the immortal ruler who cares more about his own pleasure than he does the people he rules.

Then a stranger comes to town.

Nicholas is about a decade older than Amelia and from the capital. He brings word about the prophecy and informs Amelia that facing the immortal leader is her destiny. Only she can free the kingdom. Amelia agrees to go.

Evelyn sees Amelia leave with the stranger and decides to tail them a bit out of concern. She knows she's being foolish, but she's worried (she always worries about Amelia).

Nicholas says that, before they return to the capital, they need to pick up a bodyguard for Amelia, someone who can protect her on the road (Nicholas admits he is no warrior) and help her reach the leader. So they travel to another small town where Sawyer works in a bakery.

Sawyer was once a guard captain for the immortal leader. He was very good at his job and is a strong leader. However, one day the leader informed him that he needed to make a show of strength and therefore Sawyer was to lead a group of men to eliminate a family, from the eldest adult to youngest child.

Sawyer could not bring himself to do it. He had killed for the leader before. He'd even killed children before. This family, though, was the one his sister married into. He could not kill his sister and nephew. So, instead, he warned the family and then left with his sister, her husband, and their infant child to another town. Sawyer initially joined the town defense squad, but this did not satisfy him. Then, one early morning, a baker saw him and called him in to help bake.

Sawyer returned the next morning and next until he was taken in as an official apprentice (despite being too old for an apprenticeship). He likes creating something that fills bellies and makes people happy. He still helps with the squad, but his role now is more trainer than warrior.

Nicholas lures Sawyer from his oven and Sawyer reluctantly takes up his sword and the road, because he has a lot of sins to atone for and he can't do that baking bread, but getting rid of the leader he once served is a good start.

Sawyer is the one who realizes the group is being tailed and he catches Evelyn. Evelyn insists on joining the group.

Then, one day, the group is held up by a large group of bandits and a brave, talkative archer. After a few moments, though, Nicholas dispels the illusion, revealing only the archer and a nearby mage. The pair are young.

Josie, the mage, grew up in the capital. She is a daughter of one of the nobles on the ineffectual council the leader pretends to listen to, though they never say anything contrary anyway. Fed up with how little anyone was doing, she decided to leave rather than participate in and therefore condone the broken system.

Early in her adventure as a runaway, she met Lucy when Lucy tried to rob her. Josie used her magic to stop Lucy and get her possessions back. Lucy, ever the opportunist, pointed out that they could achieve more together than apart. The two have been a duo ever since.

When Josie learns the group is working to topple the leader, she is 100% in. Finally someone is doing something. And, where Josie goes, Lucy follows.

Nicholas compliments Josie's magic and offers to teach her more. They spend the evenings working together.

Lucy doesn't like Nicholas. She tells Josie, but Josie dismisses her concerns.

The group reaches the capital. Nicholas says they'll need to rally the families who are against the leader and use them to pull together a strong force that can move against the leader, giving Amelia the opportunity she needs to lay a kiss on him.

Josie sees her family for the first time in years. They talk. Josie feels conflicted.

Nicholas says they need to get all of the families together to talk about their plans. Lucy still doesn't trust him. She tells Josie again, but Josie claims Lucy just feels jealous that Josie is spending time with other people and then also blames Lucy for why she's not seen her family for years, even though she was the one who ran away and chose not to return.

Lucy, hurt, leaves.

The families against the leader gather together. Nicholas tells Amelia to talk with them. Amelia tries, but she only angers everyone. After a moment, Evelyn steps in and smooths everything over. She gives Amelia a better introduction and then moderates the conversation so that Amelia can focus on saying what needs to be said, but Evelyn can package it so that everyone hears. (Evelyn may also whisper to Amelia and tell her to pretend they're all patients).

They're actually making progress when the assembly is overrun by guards. Someone leaked the event. Everyone is captured and taken to the castle dungeons, but kept in different cells.

Guards come and take Amelia. She is taken to a large banquet hall and invited to eat with the leader. They talk. The leader is honeyed; Amelia is abrasive at first. But then, remembering Evelyn's advice at the failed assembly, calms and then starts to ask about the leader's immortality, treating him like a patient. They discuss his long life and the various things he's accomplished and such. Amelia offers him death and he laughs before refusing.

Meanwhile, Lucy has heard that the assembly was a trap and breaks into the castle to find Josie and the others. She finds Josie's cell and picks the lock. They also get Sawyer and Evelyn, but Nicholas and Amelia are nowhere to be found. They promise to return to help the families after they've found the others.

They encounter Amelia as she's being led back to the dungeons and Sawyer fights to free her. One guard escapes, raising alarm. Sawyer leads the group to an unused portion of the castle he used to escape to. They'll be found eventually, but they have a moment to regroup.

Amelia asks after Nicholas, but Lucy says she didn't see him in the dungeons. Josie brings up that someone must have betrayed them. This is her olive branch to Lucy; she isn't sure Nicholas is the traitor, but she'll entertain the possibility for Lucy.

They decide that Lucy and Evelyn will go free the nobles and then collectively engage with the guards all over the castle, keeping them spread out and distracted.

Amelia, Josie, and Sawyer will go to find the leader and end this once and for all. The trio go to the leader's private chambers. If he isn't already in them, Amelia will wait there for him. Along the way, they run into Sawyer's replacement and Sawyer stays to fight him. Then, outside the leader's chambers, they run into Nicholas. At first he tries to play it as he's been looking for them, but Josie calls him out on his duplicity and he drops the mask. He attacks them with magic, but Josie defends. Josie tells Amelia to go on, that she'll fight Nicholas.

So it is Sawyer against his past and Josie against her mentor.

Meanwhile, Lucy is picking locks and Evelyn is organizing people. They're raising hell.

Amelia reaches the leader's private chambers. He is waiting for her. They talk again. She again offers her gift, but he throws one dagger at her and then charges her with a second. He calls for Nicholas and his guards, but they're all occupied elsewhere. It is just them.

Amelia tells him that she offers death as a gift and she tells him about the first time she used it, how she hadn't asked first and how she still regretted that and so swore that she'd never do so again. But he has lived a long, full life and he brings pain to so many people that she will make an exception. And he stabs her, but she uses their proximity to pull him closer and kiss his wrist or cheek. And he dies.

Josie wins her battle with Nicholas with a spell he'd taught her or one he'd denigrated--either way, she makes him fall asleep and keeps him sleeping until he can be locked up.

The regime has ended. Everyone is alive. Evelyn binds Amelia's wounds, since she does remember her time as a healer's apprentice, and Amelia thanks her--something she doesn't do.

A month passes.

And that is where my NaNoWriMo would begin.

#nanowrimo #prep #what happens after

0 notes

rainplaysswtor · 3 years

Text

SWTOR: New Player Combat/Survival Tips

If you're familiar with SWTOR, these are things you probably know backward and forward. Think back, though: when you first downloaded and started playing, were they all so obvious - particularly if you didn't play similar games/MMOs before? Here are ten things I wish I'd known when I started playing SWTOR. If you're a newbie, hopefully they will help you too. 1. Take a picture of your abilities bar.

There are several bugs in various areas that will inadvertently unlock your abilities bar, sending your carefully arranged abilities scattering in all directions. You may accidentally unlock the bar yourself, or forget to lock it again after adjusting something.

Take a photo of your characters' abilty bars. Use the screenshot function in the game. Use CTRL+Print Screen on a PC. Take a photo of the screen with your phone. Whatever works. That way, if a character's abilities go floating, you will have a reference guide to put everything back in its proper place.

2. Kill the healers first.

In a lot of fights, there will be medics or other NPCs who heal their colleagues as you're fighting. Needless to say this can complicate your fights.

Sometimes the medics really will have nameplates that say 'medic.' Other times they won't. You have to learn to pick them out of the crowd. They usually hang toward the back of the mob, as opposed to the other NPCs who will charge at you. They are also often weaker and don't have gold or silver tags. You may spot them fiddling with a scanner device in their hand or casting Force healing toward whoever you're fighting. Look at what your own healer companions do, and learn to recognize it - and then take out the healers first.

3. Learn what your interrupts are.

Every character is given at least one 'interrupt.' This is an ability that, as the name would suggest, can interrupt a cast or an action being taken by an enemy NPC. If you use this skill, you stop the enemy from doing whatever it is trying to do to you.

How do you find out what your interrupt skill is? Click P. Now click on the first entry, and scroll down the list to browse your abilities. Click the second and do the same. If you mouse over each ability, you will get a text box that tells you what they do.

Every class and advanced class has their own interrupt(s), and the icons often have different meanings with different classes - so do read the descriptions.

Once you have found your interrupt, make sure it's on your ability bar. How? Unlock your ability bar with the small padlock on the left. Put your cursor over the skill you want (you can only do this with abilities that are NOT marked as "passive"). Put the skill on the ability bar. Lock it by clicking the padlock again.

I tend to keep my interrupts and stun breakers on the far right side of the bar so I always know where they are immediately.

4. Learn what your stun breakers/cleanses are.

Every character also has at least one 'stun breaker.' This is an ability that will break a hold that an enemy NPC has on you or cleanse a negative effect they've given you. you want to know what this is and have it on your abilities bar ready to go.

How do you find your stun breaker (s)? See above.

5. Learn what your stuns are.

As the name would suggest, these are skills that momentarily stun or incapacitate an enemy so they stop fighting you. If you're having trouble in a fight, stunning them for a second can help you take a breather.

Find them and put them on your ability bar by following the instructions above.

6. Know if your character has heals, and what they are.

Some advanced classes, notably Marauders, really don't have any good ways to heal themselves in battle. Others, like Sage and Mercenaries, have a lot of heals for themselves and others. Find them. Add them to your abilities bar.

For the characters that have a lot of heals, like Sorcerers, Scoundrels and Operatives, I find that it helps to keep them all in one place - in my case, on the left hand abilities side bar.

7. Use your Heroic Moment.

Heroic Moment is a special set of abilities you can call upon. You can get eight of them in total. They are awarded when you finish each class story for the first time. They include an orbital strike, a kick, Force lightning, and more. You will also be slowly healed for the entire two minutes the Heroic Moment is active. The abilities will appear in a special bar above your regular abilities bar - use them as you will.

If you're having trouble in a fight or fighting a boss, do not feel shy about calling on your Heroic Moment. You can only use it once every five minutes. If you have a boss fight coming up, don't feel bad about hanging back for a moment to let it cool down.

8. Repair your gear whenever you can.

Your weapons and other gear get damaged as you fight. As it wears down, it's less effective at both offense and defense, and your fights will become more difficult and longer. Repair it whenever you can. You will know if you need to repair your gear if the "repair all" button is lit up when you are interacting with a vendor. Invest in the Legacy repair perks, which allow you to summon a field repair droid. Buy the Legacy perk which places a repair droid on your ship. As you are out and about, remember just about any vendor can repair your gear, not just the ones marked as medical droids.

8. Make friends with at least one companion.

Your companions can be set to heal, tank or go on the offense (damage). The higher your influence is, the more effective they will be at any role. IMHO it's really worth it to work on getting at least one favored companion to influence level 50. Or as high as you can.

You can raise your companions' influence by giving them gifts they like, getting approval (or even disapproval) from them in conversations and cut scene choices, and sending them on crew skills missions. There are two Legacy perks - Legacy of Altruism and Legacy of Persuasion - that will raise the amount of influence you get from conversations and gifts. IMHO they are worth buying.

8. a. Use Presence stims

Let's say you have a required companion for some content - something that annoyingly happens more and more. Let's say your influence with that companion is low. Buy a Command/Presence stim from the nearest medical droid. They're usually pink. These stims raise your presence level so your companion(s) will temporarily be more effective.

9. Get some datacrons

Datacrons are little magical cubes that you can find here and there on SWTOR's many planets, moons, and even the Fleets. Each datacron will permanently bump up your Mastery, Endurance or Presence stats slightly for all your characters and give you some XP and a lore entry, and those things are always helpful.

If you've read the guides for the datacrons you might be intimidated. It's true that some of them are so hard to get that you may spend hours trying. When I started playing SWTOR I didn't even try to get the datacrons because I was intimidated.

However, some of them are so easy to get that you literally just walk up to them. No jumping, no grouping up, no fancy tricks. Thus even if you do not have the desire to go on an ambitious datacron hunt, do try to get the ones that you can stroll over to or access easily.

10. Change your camera angle.

If you look at videos of SWTOR gameplay you will notice that people play from a variety of angles. Some are close to their characters, some are not. Different fights and area of the game may call for different angles. Play around and figure out what works best for you. Sometimes the right camera angle can help you see something that's making a fight tough and show you how to resolve it.

#rain plays swtor #swtor #new player help

117 notes · View notes

minty-mumbles · 3 years

Text

Synonyms

Whumptober 19 & 20: Bite/Solitary Confinement

(Read on AO3 Here)

~~~

They were all used to being injured. It was pretty par for the course in their line of work.

They were all capable of taking care of their own wounds, and trading to others. Hyrule and Warriors were the group’s acknowledged medics. Hyrule had innate healing magic that greatly helped when they were out of potions, and Warriors was used to tending to other people’s wounds, even more so than the rest of them.

So in normal circumstances, an injury, even a semi-serious one, would not be stressed over. The group wouldn’t be as tense as they were right now.

Unfortunately, magical injuries were not normal among the group. They had all run across curses and the like at some point, or at the very least heard of them. That didn’t mean they were good at treating them.

Even Hyrule was wary about using his magic to try and fix Wild. He was worried he might make it worse. And he didn’t want to try approaching Wild again. No one could blame him after what happened to Warriors. Hyrule was a skilled healer, but he was much less familiar with removing curses.

A single infected wizzrobe with good aim was all it took to bring down the Wild Hero.

When he was hit by the beam of dark magic, and didn’t get back up again, the others fought that much harder, so someone could make it safely to the downed hero. If not to tend to his injuries, than to protect him from being further injured or even killed.

Thankfully, it was laughably easy. Once Wild was downed, the rest of the monsters

Warriors approached Wild, who was crouching, head in his hands. Warriors could hear his heavy breathing even before crouching next to him. When he knelt down, Wild gave no indication that he knew Warriors was there. He remained hunched over.

This was Warriors’ first sign that something was wrong. “Wild?” He questioned cautiously. His only answer was a low groan, morphing into a strange, animalistic keening noise.

Warriors’ brows creased in concern. Visions of a sliced open abdomen spilling guts across the forest floor, eyes gouged out, other horrible things that could cause a man to make a noise like that flashed in his mind.

He placed his hands on Wild’s shoulder, trying to turn the Champion towards him so the Captain could see the damage. At the touch, the keening noise coming from Wild's throat turned rough and angry, more like a growl.

That was Warriors’ only warning before everything went to shit. His eyes widened when he heard the sound, which was more like a cornered animal than an injured man. Something was wrong and was withdrawing from Wild’s personal space before the other hero started moving. Warriors didn’t manage to draw his hand back fast enough, though.

The sound of teeth clacking together, a snap of bone, and a startled half-scream from Warriors drew the attention of all those on the battlefield.

Blood seeped through Wild’s teeth, which were securely clenched around Warriors pinky finger and part of his ring finger. His teeth were nearly touching.

Warriors stood, shocked, for a moment, he could only clutch at his own wrist. He couldn’t bring himself to move.

Not while staring into those eyes.

They weren’t his friend’s eyes, his brother’s eyes. They were the eyes of a feral animal. An angry feral animal.

The pair remained in a staring contest for a moment, maybe two, before four was there, and then Hyrule. Both of them were hesitant to do anything, not quite comprehending yet what the hell was going on. Warriors’ didn’t even understand what was going on. It was taking a good deal of effort on his part not to try and pull away from Wild. All of his instincts were shouting at him to pry Wild’s jaw off his fingers.

But he didn’t. He had a sinking feeling that the only reason Wild was still here with them was that he had his teeth sunk into Warriors’ fingers, and was reluctant to let go.

Wild doesn't react much to Four and Hyrule’s presence, or the approach of most of the other heroes, much like he reacted to Warriors’ own approach. The Captain didn’t get time to speak a warning before Four was reaching out, a concerned but mostly confused look on his face.

“Wild? What are you doing-?”

The second Four’s hand connected with Wild’s shoulder, the Champion let out a feral screech, only biting down harder on Warriors’ fingers. Warriors give a return screech in pain. He swore that he could feel his bones cracking under the Champion’s powerful jaws. Guess eating all those non-edible things had its perks after all. The kids' jaws are strong as hell.

At Warriors' cry, Twilight started forward. He looked confused, but anger also clouded his expression. Instead of Wild’s shoulders, the Rancher went straight for his jaws. Despite the kid’s irrational jaw strength, he was no match for Twilight's muscles

Warrior clutched his had=nd to his chest, feeling relief more than anything. At least all his fingers were still attached. “Wait! Somethings wrong with him! That spell did something. Something bad.”

Hyrule approached him, taking his hand to inspect the damage. His entire hand was blood-soaked, and more blood was still oozing from the wound.

He could hear Legend scoff from behind him. “Yeah, obviously something’s wrong with him, but that doesn't give him an excuse to almost amputate your fingers with his teeth.” Warriors ignored the veteran’s stress-induced snark, keeping a strict eye on Wild. Everyone else was distracted, looking at the damage wrought on his fingers, but the captain knew better.

He was the only one who saw the signs. Twilight’s arms loosening around Wild’s body, Wild stopping his wiggling for just a moment, Wild’s eyes focusing on the treeline.

Warriors barely got out a shout of warning before Wild was out of Twilight’s arms and darting across the clearing.

He’s sure Twilight acted on instinct, lunging after his protégée simply because he was running away. Warriors was thankful he did. He had seen something in Wild’s eyes, something unfamiliar, something he didn’t like. With the way he was acting, they might never find Wild again.

~~~

They had been traveling towards Lon Lon Ranch before they were ambushed. They had been moving at a quick pace. They were all eager to see Mrs. Malon again, and get a good night’s rest in a safe environment.

After the battle, though, they moved at double the speed. They don't know quite what was going on yet, but they weren’t going to be able to figure it out in the middle of the woods with a feral teen trying to escape them at every turn.

When they arrived at the Ranch, they were quick to lock Wild in a room by himself. It wasn’t ideal, but they didn’t have very many options. They didn’t want to lose the Champion, but they couldn’t really keep watch over him themselves.

Several more bite marks littered over the whole group, (thankfully, none as serious as Warriors’) proved that.

So locking him in a room was the best option. Time and Malon had been quick to empty out of their storerooms. It was small, had no windows, and after it had been emptied, had nothing in it Wild could use to hurt anyone else with. Or hurt himself.

Time, Hyrule, and Sky had gone to Castle town, intent on seeking an audience with the Queen. Hyrule had been quick to admit that he was out of his depth. He didn’t know enough about curses to identify, let alone cure, the specific one that had been cast on the wild hero to make him act so… well, wild.

They needed to consult someone who knew more about curses. About magic. (Also, someone who had access to an extensive library for researching said topics.)

Four, Wind, and Legend all stayed behind to help with chores. Warriors’ was restricted to helping Malon cook dinner. No one mentioned the hole that would normally be filled with Wild’s laughter. No one mentioned the screams coming from the storeroom, like a wounded animal.

No one mentioned that Twilight was shirking the chores he usually did, and had slipped out of the room towards the locked storeroom.

~~~

Much later that night, the three who went to Castle Town hadn’t returned, but no one had really expected them to. It would probably take a day or so to sort this whole thing out.

Twilight was also nowhere to be seen. Not that anyone had bothered to go look for him. They all knew exactly where he was.

Twilight sighed, resting his head back against the door. There was a hiss from the other side, low and fearful.

He knew that the others had only heard, or had only bothered to pay attention to the screams, the threatening, angry noises. But Twilight knew a fearful animal when he saw one.

“It's okay, cub,” he whispered, too quietly to be heard through the door.

37 notes · View notes

larenoz · 3 years

Text

There Has To Be Three - Updated

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

Originally posted as part of @rnmmarchformeta but updated to reflect some new additions. Only three eps in and already enough for an update!!

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

From the very beginnings of the show, symbolism related to the number three has been present.

The most obvious example of this is the mysterious symbol seen throughout the show. We see it displayed in the town lights when the power returns after Max causes the blackout. It has recurred so often in their lives that both Max and Michael have it tattooed on their bodies.

It is initially described in terms of being a beacon. In 1.09 Songs About Texas, Max sees the symbol on the flyer for the Indigenous faith healer, Arizona. It’s here that Max learns about the way the symbol mysteriously forms near certain people, and its link to the silent woman on the reservation.

We later learn that in addition to its role as a beacon, the symbol is used as a lock. It is the Pod Squad placing their hands on their respective circle on the symbol that unlocks Mr Jones’ cell.

And again, we see the number three associated with a lock and key on the box used to house Tripp’s diary left to Patricia.

But is the power of the design intrinsic or is it what the design represents?

Does the symbol in fact represent an important cultural or biological concept for the race of aliens to which Max, Isobel, and Michael belong? Join me dear readers on my journey into the “aliens need to be in groups of three to form stable relationships and be happy” head canon.

Could it be possible that the aliens only function successfully when they form relationships, be they romantic, sexual, platonic, sibling etc when it contains three people?

We see many different groupings of people, that don’t seem to work properly until they are together or that when fractured, bad things happen.

Pod squad - Iz, Michael, Max

Science Bros - Liz, Michael, Kyle

Family - Liz, Rosa, Arturo

Family - Liz, Rosa, Kyle

Friends - Liz, Maria, Alex

Barn Crew - Nora, Louise, Roy

The Parents - Mimi, Jim, Jesse

Manes Men - Alex, Flint, Greg

In 2.05 we are given an answer by Max:

“The thing is, there has to be three. Okay. There’s always three. Until the end.”

“Cause it’s all broken without three.”

This is confirmation from canon that at least for the Pod Squad, three is the magic number.

The question then becomes was Max talking only about their specific situation or is it indicative of the wider cultural/biological alien imperative?

In terms of the Pod Squad, even though they are together physically, emotionally they are distant. The events surrounding Rosa’s death break the trust within the group and the closeness they had before that event is lost. It’s only once those secrets are out in the open and they begin to repair their relationship as a group, that they each start to heal their other relationships as individuals. Obviously, there are other events impacting their individual circumstances but the point holds.

Could this within its full cultural manifestation be that triads are the norm for the aliens? And that the 2.06 threesome is them unwittingly falling into the cultural norms of Michael’s society?

Does the threesome between Maria, Alex and Michael happen because they were already the most likely (basically people who are all outsiders in some way and therefore already breaking societal norms) to be open to unconventional relationship structures and therefore more open to acting on the drive towards a triadic group?

Originally posted by rosaortecho

Like for Kaliz, Kyle provides that balance, cause Max isn’t great at setting boundaries with Liz.

And even with Alex, Maria and Liz, their friendship was broken until they all came back together.

Even in non-romantic/sexual situations the characters tend to work better in groups of three. It isn’t until Kyle, Liz and Michael all start working together that they start making headway on healing Max and it’s only when they all contribute something equally (Liz regrowing the heart, Michael making the pacemaker and Kyle conducting the surgery) that they finally succeed.

I like that alien culture isn’t just a replication or mirror of our world. And that the differences provide a lens for us to examine our own cultural defaults. - eg monogamy (which historically hasn’t always been the default even in the West). Canon has explicitly questioned the assumption that the aliens experience sexuality in the same way as humans. Michael says in 1.11 Champagne Supernova:

“Oh, we are literally aliens, and you’re gonna hold me to some outdated binary of sexuality?”

And Isobel in 2.07 Como La Flor:

“I mean, what does an alien care about human gender constructs?”

It isn’t such a stretch to suggest that how their society structures its intimate and familial relationships is also different than humans? If aliens aren’t monosexual by default, it’s highly possible they aren’t monogamous by default either.

While allegory plays an important part in the storytelling of the show, I wish that they would also take advantage of their sci-fi setting to explore other aspects of the aliens’ culture. Use the sci-fi genre to explore how they are different as much as how they are the same as humans. The story so far has given us so many elements that could be used as a what-if starting point for exploring different possible experiences. For example, how The Expanse has shown that as humanity expands into space different distinct culture develop. In the show, we see the exploration of a polyamous Belter family that Drummer finds herself in - the #PolyamBelterFam

Realistically, we aren’t going to see this. Even though hey even went as far as having portraying a canon threesome but stopped short of fully exploring the potential of this event by giving us a fully realised polyamorous relationship.

Nevertheless, I don’t think we’ve seen the last of the “three” symbolism and it’s going to be interesting to see if it gets developed further.

Update 11 Aug 2021 (Post S3 Ep 3):

So only three eps in and we already have new "There Needs To Be Three" content. Let's start with the most obvious!!

Our introduction to the home planet of the Pod Squad gives us this image of the night sky with Three Moons!! Which are sort of in the same configuration as the lock symbol?

In the dialogue of the show, Isobel actually uses the term "Triad" to describe the pod squad:

"Okay, you're right. We've all been hiding things from each other. And it has to stop.

We're not strong unless we're together. It's like you said; there has to be three. We're a triad."

(text courtesy of Saadiestuff transcripts)

In S3 Ep 3 we see Michael coming to possession of some enhanced turquoise. He ends up giving pieces to Alex, while Isobel also gets a piece. Both Michael and Alex use their pieces to boost or interact with some alien technology, while Isobel's piece enhances her empathic power.

This one is purely theoretical at this point, but what about the Lockheart Machine and Jim's Radio - is there a missing third machine to complete a machine/circuit?

#roswell nm #roswell new mexico #roswellnm #symbolism #michael guerin #alex manes #maria deluca #liz ortecho #rnm spoilers #max evans #kyle valenti #isobel evans

24 notes · View notes

bonjour-rainycity · 3 years

Text

Double Heart | Chapter Two ~ Cosima

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG

Word count: 3048

Warnings: None

**Read on Ao3 under the user “bonjour-rainycity” if you prefer!**

A/n Surprise! I wrote another chapter so I decided to go ahead and make another post. The reasoning behind this is I want to stay one month ahead and only one month ahead. That will give me a helpful buffer for when life happens but I don’t want to stockpile any more chapters than necessary. You know? So...here’s chapter two!

It’s nearing nightfall by the time we finally stop. My bones are stiff, my butt is sore, and my back hurts from all the tension I kept there out of fear that I would otherwise fall and be trampled under the horse’s quick-moving hooves.

Baranor slides down, reaching his arms up to me. I place my hands on his shoulders and allow him to help me off the horse. I stumble the moment my feet hit the ground.

Orophin—who I’ve yet to actually talk to—offers me a sympathetic smile. “Have you not ridden in a while? Take a short walk and stretch a little. It will help you feel less sore in the morning.”

I nod my thanks, tentatively releasing my hands from Baranor’s arms and turning away from the horses.

“Do not go far.” I jump. Haldir’s voice floats from the tree line just in front of us. I hadn’t seen him dismount, let alone climb into the branches. “We are not in guarded territory.”

With that ominous warning, I decide it’s best to stay close to the others. We’re near enough to the riverbank, so I hobble to the edge of the water and back again. Once movement comes a little easier, I extend my path to the tree line.

A voice to my left interrupts the silence. “Do you remember anything else?”

I yelp, placing a hand over my racing heart.

Rumil grins, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. He hands me a canteen. “Sorry. I forget how terrible human senses are.”

I raise an eyebrow but bring the canteen to my lips, grateful for the drink. “And, what, elves are so much better?”

Mentally, I admonish myself for playing along. There’s no such thing as elves. Either they’re messing with me, or I really am having a wildly vivid dream.

Rumil nods, shrugging his shoulders in a way that suggests the answer is obvious. “Well, yes. We live longer, have better sight, hearing, reflexes. We do not tire as quickly as humans do, and we have a respect for our kin that the race of man cannot hope to imitate. I do not mean to offend.” He smiles, carrying a note of apology in his voice. “It’s only the truth.”

I shrug, unbothered by his comment. Because if elves exist in this world I dreamed up, why shouldn’t they be better than humans? It’s just as likely that I’ve imagined a race that’s worse than humans, and I only haven’t met them yet. “If you say so. But to answer your question, no, I don’t remember anything else. How long was I passed out?”

From his place by the now-grazing horses, Baranor answers. “Not long once we arrived, but I do not know how long you laid there before.”

“Yes, and you are quite lucky we arrived, especially with Baranor in tow.” Rumil winks, gripping my elbow and turning me back towards the part of the ground where I assume we will sleep tonight.

I give Baranor a questioning look.

He smiles awkwardly, a bit self-conscious. “I am quite skilled as a healer. I used the power in my spirit to call to your own. You were very nearly dead when we happened upon you.”

I file that information away. Power in my spirit…Probably something I’d read in a book once that my brain has brought up now. And these men I’m with—elves, I guess, according to the dream—must be people I know from…from…

But the fledgling thought dies away, leaving me with no more answers than before. I try to push back my disappointment, my logical side kicking in to soothe me. It’s okay. Soon the doctors will fix you, or you’ll wake up from this dream, and everything will be fine. You just have to wait. No point in getting freaked out.

Rumil, Baranor, and I settle on the high part of the riverbank. Orophin sits too, once he’s done refilling the canteens. I glance at the trees. I haven’t seen Haldir since we stopped riding. “Is he not going to join us?”

Orophin and Baranor exchange looks, but Rumil just snorts. “Likely not. As he said, we are neither in the territory guarded by the wardens of Lothlórien nor the patrols of Elrond. Someone has to watch for threats. More often than, not, Haldir insists on the job for himself. He doesn’t trust us to keep good enough watch.”

“That’s not it and you know it,” Orophin hisses, and I flinch at the anger in his voice, even though it wasn’t directed at me. I have no idea how Rumil keeps his face blank. The two stare each other down until Orophin speaks again, still through gritted teeth. “Go and collect the rations for dinner.”

Rumil rolls his eyes, but does as his brother says.

Baranor clears his throat, and I’m grateful when he changes the subject. He inclines his head towards me. “I see you are dressed for travel. Perhaps you were part of a company and got separated?”

Mildly perplexed, I look down at my body. Huh. He’s right. Something I had yet to take notice of is the clothes I wear — sturdy dark leggings, a deep green tunic, a red cloak, and thick leather boots. I haven’t the slightest idea how I conjured up these clothes, but Baranor is right — they’re perfect for this type of outdoor traveling.

Rumil returns and places a bundle of leaves in each of our hands. Inside seems to be bread and slices of some sort of fruit. Hesitantly, I take a bite. It’s surprisingly good.

“So how long until we reach this friend of yours?”

“Elrond,” Orophin informs, looking down the path we intend to continue on tomorrow. “Probably about thirteen more days, unless we hit bad weather. The mountains will take the longest, and traveling with a human will slow us down.” He realizes his words, eyes growing wide. “I don’t mean to be rude—”

“No, no, I get it.” I wave him off, picking at the bread in my hands. These elves sure have a bad view of me. “Humans suck.”

“At least it’s still spring,” Rumil supplies, trying to lighten the mood. “That will make our path through the Misty Mountains easier.”

“Right you are,” Baranor agrees, sipping from his canteen. “I detest crossing them in the snow.”

The three elves slip into easy conversation, exchanging stories of the worst travel conditions each has suffered, trying to one-up each other. While they talk, I place my bread back in its leaves and on the ground, no longer hungry. The stories they tell are quite detailed, and there’s this nagging feeling in the back of my mind that I wouldn’t be able to make all this up…the landscape, the language, a whole new species with differing characteristics, vast knowledge of this world’s travel ways, four fully-thought-out ‘characters’, for lack of a better word….Dread and fear mingle with exhaustion and I slump, wanting nothing more than to curl up in a ball and go to sleep for a very long time. Perhaps when I wake, all will be well.

The murmurs from those around me sound muffled. A hand wraps grips one of my shoulders, holding me upright, and Baranor’s voice comes from beside my ear. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I shake my head, feeling the weight of their eyes on me. “I’m just exhausted.”

He makes a noise of agreement. “Of course you are, I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner.”

I try and wave off his apology, but it seems like too much effort to raise my arm over such a little thing. From the corner of my eye, I see Rumil stand and visit the horses. He returns carrying a rolled up mat and a folded blanket. He unfurls both, setting them on the ground between our gathering spot and the tree line. He beckons for me to join him and, with great effort, I stand without help, going to meet him as requested.

“Here. Sorry it’s not much. If we had known we’d be traveling with a lady, we would have brought much cushier sleeping provisions.”

I roll my tired eyes, realizing that he’s mocking me. “Goodnight, Rumil.”

He grins, sauntering off to rejoin his companions. “Goodnight, Cosima.”

I all but collapse on the mat, pulling the surprisingly warm blanket over my shoulders. Before I’m aware what’s happening, I’ve plunged into sleep.

{***}

Baranor woke me with the sun, and I’m very grateful to be leaning against him rather than directing the horse. I feel much too groggy to properly steer such a beast, especially given the fact that I have no idea how. Even though he must have stayed up most of the night, Haldir doesn’t look the slightest bit tired, and, on behalf of the bags underneath my eyes, I am thoroughly annoyed. He hasn’t said a word to me aside from the few sentences yesterday. I understand it a bit more now, though. He seems to be the leader of this group, and has either been charged with its security, or taken the task upon himself. Despite there not being another soul in sight, he rides at the front of our group—straight backed, stiff, his head on a near-constant swivel. Orophin tends to stay near one of Haldir’s shoulders—guarding his back and providing a sort of second watch, I presume. Rumil alternates between riding in-step with the horse Baranor and I occupy and cantering along behind us.

If riding was difficult yesterday, it is doubly so this morning.

Every bounce jolts though my bones, and I seem always on the verge of being tossed to the side, never quite able to fall into the rhythm the other four find so easily.

Rumil pulls up beside us, seeming to showcase his perfect form. “Having trouble?”

I grit my teeth, but that only makes them clash together as the horse’s feet collide with the ground. “No.”

He snorts. “Toes up, heels down. Grip the horse with your legs, don’t put all that tension in your back. And if Baranor were human, you’d have strangled him by now. Loosen up.”

Baranor huffs out a laugh and takes an exaggerated breath when I relax my hold around him. “Finally, I can breathe!”

“So dramatic,” I mumble, rolling my eyes for Rumil’s benefit.

“What was that,” Baranor questions, though I know if he has as good hearing as he claims to have, he surely heard my comment.

“I said you’re a really great rider,” I shout.

The three of us dissolve into laughter, and I lose myself in this. For a moment, I forget that I am dreaming, that this is a strange world I made up in my head. I forget that I haven’t the slightest idea what comes next. Instead, I start to forge the first tentative bonds of friendship.

{***}

I am glad when we stop for the evening, and run through some stretches to try and help with the muscle aches. Rumil’s pointers certainly helped though, and I have hopes that perhaps this discomfort is only temporary. We still follow the river, and once again make camp in the space on the high, grassy bank. Bathing was an experience, but it was mercifully quick. The water was much too cold for my liking, so I washed as hastily as I could and then redressed, joining the others on the bank. I lean over to wring the water from my hair, the saturation making it seem nearly black. It’s getting quite long—almost too long, and I hope wherever we’re going has someone willing to cut it. Rumil watches me curiously as I take a spare cloth and scrunch my hair—bringing out its natural waves—but says nothing, only continues giving me an odd look. I guess with the stick-straight hair of he and his brothers, this would look unusual. Just as I am about to tease him for his staring, Haldir comes in to sight, looking quite severe.

“We have lost the cover of the trees. We will take watch in pairs, rotating halfway through the night. Orophin, Baranor—you take the first shift.”

They dutifully follow Haldir’s order, and I watch their faces as they pass. They show no signs of tiredness—no bags under their eyes, no yawning, in fact, not even a hair is out of place—but if it were me, I would be absolutely exhausted with all this staying up. And, though it is technically their turn to rest, Rumil and Haldir are still on their feet, occupying themselves with tending to the horses. I feel awful, peacefully sitting on my bedroll, messing with my hair and eating dinner, knowing I’ll get a full night’s sleep when none of them will have that luxury.

I return my food to the sack loaned to me and push myself to my feet, tentatively approaching Rumil and his brother. Rumil smiles in greeting. Haldir merely glances up and then back to his horse’s hoof he’s bending over to attend. Though I fight to keep my eyes open as it is, it’s not right for me to leave them to do all the work. So, I try to project energy I do not feel, and pose my question. “Do you want me to take a watch shift tonight?”

Haldir stiffens. Rumil raises his eyebrows and vibrates slightly—he’s holding back laughter! I give them my best unimpressed look.

Rumil tries to hide his amusement but can’t do away with his wide grin. “We appreciate the offer, really. But having a human stand watch when we have elves at our disposal? It would be the same to not set a watch at all.”

I huff, crossing my arms, trying to ignore the heat I feel in my cheeks. All this talk of how incapable humans are is getting a little old. “Well, there must be something I can do to help. I shouldn’t go straight to bed if the rest of you are still working.”

Rumil’s expression softens. He purses his lips, seeming to search for either a task for me or a way to turn me away.

“Do you know how to mend clothing?”

I’m momentarily caught off guard. Haldir hasn’t looked up from clearing his horse’s hooves, but it was definitely him who spoke.

Unbidden, the action of holding a ripped piece of cloth and using a needle and threat to bind it comes to mind. I must know how. So I answer in the affirmative. “Yeah, I think so.”

Haldir nods, straightening only to exchange one hoof for the other, never making eye contact with either me or his brother. “Good. There’s a blue tunic in my largest bag that needs mending, and one of Rumil’s too—that one’s red. Work with the light. Stop when you can’t see anymore and finish in the morning.”

I blink and feel my head tilt to the side. That’s the most he’s ever said to me. But it’s not even that he spoke, it’s how. Every syllable is crisp, curt, and succinct—a command in every sense of the word. I long-ago realized that Haldir is in charge of this little group, though now I wonder if he supervises in a larger capacity back in his home. I get the feeling he’s quite used to talking to people like this, and being obeyed.

But I did ask for something to do, so I don’t comment on his tone, only say my goodbyes and retrieve the shirts he’s described. They’re exactly where he said they would be and wrapped around a small sewing kit. I take the supplies and return to my bedroll, working through the sunset. When it grows too dark to see, I put the project away. Rumil and Haldir join me, bringing dinner with them. They set out their mats in a sort of triangle, and I realize somewhat belatedly that this allows each of us to watch the other’s back. It seems second-nature to them, to be cautions and on their guard, even during dinnertime and sleep.

I try to distract myself from that disconcerting thought. “Why are we going to meet this friend of yours anyway?”

Rumil’s gaze turns to his brother standing watch, a fond look in his eye. “There is an elleth there that Orophin is courting. Their time apart has been too long for his liking, so he is paying her a visit. It is dangerous to travel these lands alone, so Haldir and I took leave to accompany him.”

Courting. Elleth. Where am I finding all these words? I keep talking in an effort to distract myself. “That’s really sweet. Does Baranor usually go with you all, since he’s a healer?”

“Usually,” Rumil confirms. “He has extensive experience in the halls of healing, as well as healing on the battlefield, so he is an excellent addition to any company. Also Elrond—the friend we are taking you to—is an acclaimed healer himself, so he and Baranor enjoy conversing with each other.”

Haldir stretches his arms up, then reclines on his mat. “Better get some sleep, all of us. Rumil—we’re up in four hours.”

I take his advice, laying down on my own bedroll. Exhausted though I am, sleep evades me.

My mind runs a million miles an hour, piecing together bits of information from this world, trying to remember things from my home. And, all the while, thought takes root, sowing seeds of fear in my mind.

Because while I know this world isn’t real, and thus no harm can come to me here…Rumil said these lands are dangerous, and the increased watches only support my theory that we are under some kind of threat. I have no weapon with which to defend myself, let alone any skill, and while I know logically that I could throw myself off a cliff and still be fine….

What if that’s not the case?

I groan, rolling onto my back.

This is ridiculous. This place is made up. I’m trapped inside my own head, so I have no reason to be scared. Go to sleep.

And, when the moon is much higher in the sky, the exhaustion wins.

A/n Thanks for reading! You know how likes, comments, and reblogs make me smile. Let me know if you would like a tag! And if you’re having trouble being tagged (for some reason Tumblr isn’t letting me tag all of you?) try subscribing to the story on Ao3! That will update you when I post there.

|next part|

|masterlist|

Tolkien tag list: @anangelwhodidntfall @eru-vande

Double Heart tag list: @lainphotography @fangirl-nonsense @themerriweathermage @thophil2941btw @kenobiguacamole

**Strikethrough means Tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you**

54 notes · View notes

jewishzevran · 4 years

Text

Companion Guide: Ori Lavellan

Original template from @dextronoms, art by @tzedekart

Inquisitor’s Name: Ori Lavellan

Alternate Name?: None

Race, Class, & Specialization: Elf, Mage, Spirit Healer/Fire

Varric’s Nickname for them: Firecracker

Default Tarot Card: Strength (bravery, compassion, protection)

How they are recruited: Ori is part of a group of Dalish elves from the Free Marches that have come to assist the rebel mages. She can be found in the Hinterlands, tending to the wounded in a refugee camp. She will initially be standoffish with non-mage or non-elf Inquisitors, but through conversation will reveal that a nearby group of bandits have stolen most of her medical supplies and she fears those she is treating will die without them. If the party locate the bandits and retrieve her supplies, the Inquisitor can ask her to join the Inquisition as they need talented medics such as herself.

Where they are in Haven: Ori can be found near the pier, past the soldiers, where she has set up a small fire and healer’s tent. She will be tending to the injury of a soldier resting on her cot, and she will be singing under her breath quietly. There is a cutscene with Cullen where the Inquisitor happens upon the end of an argument between the two, and observes Ori take a swing at the commander before storming off. The Inquisitor will comment on her aim, and Cullen will nurse a split lip. If the Inquisitor asks what the argument was about, Cullen will say that Ori grew up in Kirkwall and there are apparently wounds that are still raw.

Where they are in Skyhold: Ori will be outside the infirmary, watching the courtyard, though sometimes she may be either tending to injured soldiers, or observing the sparring ring. Most of her cutscenes take place in the courtyard area. With a high enough approval, the Inquisitor can inquire about her past, and she will divulge that she was born in the Kirkwall, that her parents were killed by Templars raiding the alienage looking for elven apostate children to take to the Gallows, and that she left to seek out her mother’s clan in around 9:34 Dragon. Her opening dialogue at Skyhold begins with her covering the body of a dead soldier, but thanking the Inquisitor for saving so many lives.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Things they Generally Approve of:

Greatly Approve -

Making the mages allies

Saving all the civilians in Haven

Putting Briala in Power

Drinking from the Well of Sorrows (Elf Inquisitor)

Gaining approval from the Dalish (if in party)

Approve -

Compassionate choices in judgements

Completing side quests that help civilians, mages or elves

Allowing the Grey Wardens to join the Inquisition

Picking the infirmary upgrade for Skyhold

Slightly Approve -

Killing Red Templars

Exploring Elven Ruins

Dialogue options that are chantry and templar critical

Things they Generally Disapprove of:

Greatly Disapprove -

Making the mages prisoners

Recruiting the Templars (without disbanding)

Reuniting Celene and Briala

Keeping Celene in power

Selling the Dalish history to the chantry

Clan Lavellan killed

Disapprove -

Supporting Cassandra as Divine

Allowing Morrigan to drink from the Well of Sorrows (Elf Inquisitor)

Claiming to be the Herald of Andraste

Letting Cullen interrogate Samson

Telling Cullen to continue taking Lyrium

Slightly Disapprove -

Killing Dragons

Lying to Dorian about his father’s letter

Making Cole human

Dialogue that is critical or derogatory towards elves

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Mages, Templars, Other?: Ori is resolutely pro-mage. If recruited before In Hushed Whispers/Champions of the Just, and the mages are made prisoners or templars not disbanded, she will leave the Inquisition unless the Inquisitor is an elf or a mage, in which case she may be persuaded to stay, but she will still greatly disapprove. Several of her further dialogue options are locked off, and it will be impossible to complete her personal quest. If she is not sought out until after the quest and either of these choices were picked, she will be permanently unrecruitable.

Friends in the Inquisition: Varric, Iron Bull, Cole, Krem, Sera, Vivienne (if questioned about their differing positions regarding the Circles, Ori will remark that she and Vivienne disagree but she has a great deal of respect for her, and values her opinion highly).

Rivals in the Inquisition: Cullen, Cassandra, Morrigan Neutral towards: Dorian, Solas, Blackwall, Josephine, Leliana

Romanceable?: Ori is not romanceable by the Inquisitor, though flirt dialogues are available for all races and genders. If the Inquisitor is persistent enough, it will trigger a cutscene where the two are alone, and the Inquisitor leans in to kiss Ori. She will pull away and apologise, saying that she hadn’t meant to lead the Inquisitor on, but that she is in love with someone else. If Anders was romanced in DA2, Ori will remark that her affections are unrequited.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Small Side Quest: A Night of Revelry Ori will mention to the inquisitor that the elves that are part of the inquisition are feeling quite homesick, particularly the Dalish that have been separated from their clans, and she would like to hold a party for a night to allow the elves to celebrate their culture, with traditional Dalish songs and dances. If the Inquisitor agrees, Ori asks them to acquire some ingredients so she can help the kitchen make food in preparation. Once this is complete and the items delivered to the kitchen, a cutscene will trigger with Ori inside the Herald’s Rest who is stood on a table singing whilst a very large gathering of elves joins in, interjected with cheering and whistling. A space has been cleared for a dance floor and there is a band of elvish musicians playing where Maryden usually is. Ori will notice the Inquisitor as her song finishes, and she comes to talk to them and thank them for allowing them to have such a special evening.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Companion quest: Sanctum Santorum Note: This quest is only available when approval with Ori is very high. A cutscene will trigger where Ori is poring over a map, and will jump when the Inquisitor appears. She will look visibly nervous and flustered, and asks very seriously if she can trust the Inquisitor. The Inquisitor replies with yes, and Ori will then say she has managed to track an old friend to somewhere in the Emerald Graves and asks the Inquisitor to go with her and help find him. The next time Ori is in the party in the Emerald Graves, a small cutscene will trigger where she notices a mark on a tree and remarks that “he must be close”. The search function is then used to find three more signs (blood from an animal carcass, flattened grass from someone sitting or lying down, and the remnants of a fire, the last being outside a well-hidden cave. A magical trap is triggered and the party must fight off several angry spirits. When combat ends, a cutscene is triggered of the Inquisitor and Ori creeping inside the cave at night. A spell comes flying out the dark and both characters dodge, then a voice shouts from further in “don’t come any closer!” The Inquisitor goes for their weapon and Ori places a hand on their arm and shakes her head. She then lights a flame, illuminating herself, the Inquisitor and most of the cave, shedding light on a small, dirty campsite situated right at the back, and a cloaked figure with a staff raised to attack. She then says quietly, “Anders? It’s me. It’s Ori.” The figure slowly drops their staff, then steps into the light and pulls their hood down revealing themselves to indeed be Anders. He squints at the pair for a moment, and upon recognising Ori, breaks into a smile and hugs her tightly. Dialogue then follows where Ori reveals her long-standing friendship with Anders and the Inquisitor can ask about their history. If questioned, Ori will say she supports Anders’ actions at the end of DA2, and will remark that it pained her to see a place of worship destroyed and lives lost as a result but after all the evil she’s seen, she knows it was necessary. After dialogue is finished, Ori will thank the Inquisitor for coming with her, and beg them not to say anything.

Option 1: Let Anders go. Ori will greatly approve of this choice. If this option is selected, the Inquisitor will promise to keep Anders’ location a secret, and hopes they can meet one day in better circumstances. Ori and Anders will say their goodbyes, and Ori and the Inquisitor will depart. Back at Skyhold a cutscene will trigger where Ori is sat by a window reading a letter and smiling, and when prompted, will say it is from Anders. She will thank the Inquisitor again, and say that she lost contact with him when she left Kirkwall to join her mother’s clan, so she’s glad he’s safe and that she can keep an eye on him again. If the kiss scene has been played, the Inquisitor can comment on Ori’s feelings for Anders, asking if he is the person she had previously referred to. She will agree, and either comment sadly on Hawke being who makes him happy, (if he was romanced in DA2), or blush and say she hopes one day she will pluck up the courage to confess to him. There is a dialogue option for the Inquisitor to encourage this.

Option 2: Bring Anders back to Skyhold for judgement (unlocks the quest The Judgement of Anders).

Ori will greatly disapprove of this choice, and will be visibly upset, telling the Inquisitor she trusted them and feels betrayed, and will not listen to any justifications for this decision. It will be impossible to engage in dialogue with her until The Judgement of Anders is complete; the first attempt to do so will trigger a cutscene in the infirmary where Ori shouts at the Inquisitor, for all subsequent attempts she will simply reply “leave me, I have patients to care for”.

Follow-up Quest: The Judgement of Anders

Ori will be present in the main hall during this judgement.

If the Inquisitor pardons Anders, Ori will greatly approve. After the quest is finished, the next time she is interacted with, it will trigger a cutscene where the Inquisitor walks in on Anders and Ori holding each other, both crying and laughing. They break apart when they hear the Inquisitor, and Anders will smile at the Inquisitor, squeeze Ori’s hand and leave the room. Ori will then give the Inquisitor a tight hug, and thank them profusely. There will be dialogue about what Anders plans to do forthwith, and the Inquisitor has the option to invite him to stay on as healer at Skyhold, which Ori will greatly approve of. The Inquisitor will now also have the same dialogue options regarding her romantic sentiments from option 1. If Anders stays on as healer, then, Ori will then sometimes be found talking with him inside the infirmary. If not romanced in DA2, idle dialogue later in the game will imply that he and Ori have started a relationship.

If the Inquisitor conscripts Anders, Ori will have no approval change, but if the Inquisitor executes Anders, Ori will greatly disapprove and permanently leave the Inquisition.

Tarot card change:

Option 1 - If Anders let go: VI of Cups (reunion, healing, joy)

Option 2 - If Anders brought to Skyhold: X of Swords (betrayal, defeat, loss)

Option 3 - If Anders pardoned: The Star (hope, faith, renewal)

Option 4 - If Anders executed: III of Swords (heartbreak, suffering, grief)

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Cole’s reflection on their thoughts:

“Panic. Screaming. Armor silver and sharp and unforgiving. Helplessness. Grief. So much anger. Family taken without warning. “In their blood the maker’s will is written”. A hole in your chest. Guilt. Guilt. Guilt. It’s my fault. I should have stopped it.”

“White lines where skin has healed but you still feel its bite. Dreams darkened by wretched smiles and pleas for mercy gone unanswered. Tears darken the dirt and water the roots of the tree that cries out in anguish for salvation that will never come.”

“So full of righteous fury. So determined to seek justice. A clenched fist, gritted teeth, a battle cry. An apron worn like armor. A voice for the voiceless. A flame inside that never dies. Always strong. Always caring. I will protect them. There is so much love inside you.”

“You love him. He sees you when no one else does. Words spoken through silence. Hazel eyes and healer’s hands. Soft smiles and gentle touches that feel almost holy. (If Anders was romanced in DA2) You whisper his name in the dark. It hurts that he doesn’t hear it, but you want him to be happy more than anything else.”

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Comment(s) on Mages: (referring to the Circle) “No one deserves to be locked away for a circumstance of birth.” / “We’ve been fighting for so long. We just want freedom and peace.” / “Magic is a gift.” / “Our light will outlast this hatred.”

Comment(s) on Templars: “They claim to be peacekeepers, but they wield fear like a weapon.” / “I’ve never met a Templar I can trust. They’re all the same.”

When looking for something: “Keep your eyes sharp.” / “We should investigate.”

When finding a campsite: “We should rest.” / “This will be good for a camp.”

When the Inquisitor Falls: “Be more careful!” / “Not on my watch, Inquisitor!”

When they are low on Health: “It’s not wise to let your healer die!” / “Fenhedis!”

When they see a Dragon: “So beautiful, and so misunderstood. It is a privilege to behold such a creature.”

Default saying: "How can I help you?" / (high approval, teasing) “What needs healing this time?”

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Travel Banter with Canon Companions:

Varric: It’s been a while, Firecracker. Ori: Indeed it has. It’s good to be adventuring with you again Varric. Varric: Just like old times! Though I suppose if we’re picking our favourite old times, I’d rather be drinking the liquor you and Daisy used to make than out here shooting demons. Ori: (laughs) I think the demons are easier to handle.

Cassandra: You are Dalish, Lavellan, but you were raised in Kirkwall? Ori: (curtly) Yes. Cassandra: Why did you leave? Ori: Templars murdered my parents. Cassandra: I’m sorry. Ori: I will not speak of them again. Not to you. Cassandra: What have I done to make you dislike me so? Ori: You stand for an order that has enslaved and murdered my people for generations, justify the imprisonment and oppression of mages, refuse to acknowledge the corruption in your own ranks and then choose to remain wilfully ignorant of why I have cause to distrust you. Cassandra: I… Ori: I would wish that you could spend a day in my shoes during my time in the alienage, Seeker, but I do not think you would survive it.

(If Anders was not romanced in DA2, and was invited to stay with the Inquisition after his trial) Iron Bull: So… Ori: So? Iron Bull: You and Blondie, huh? Ori: What about us? Iron Bull: Have you told him how you feel yet? Ori: I don’t know what you’re talking about. Iron Bull: Sure. And I’m the Queen of Antiva. Ori: Is it really that obvious? Iron Bull: Kid, you’re about as subtle as my horns. He’s about the only person in all of Skyhold that hasn’t noticed. Ori: Oh sweet creators…

Vivienne: You are a very talented mage, my dear. Ori: As are you, ma’am. It is a privilege to watch you fight. I have learnt much. Blackwall: But you use different styles of magic? Ori: Frost and Fire are opposites yes, but Madame de Fer’s use of offensive ice magic informs my defensive fire, and vice versa. I learn how to better protect myself and exploit my enemy’s weakness. Vivienne: (smiling) Very astute my dear. We shall have to meet up to practice some time. Ori: I should like that very much, ma’am.

(if Blackwall was pardoned after his revelation) Blackwall: There have been many that have turned their backs on me, Miss Ori, but you have not wavered in your kindness. I am very grateful for that. Ori: I may disapprove of your original actions, Blackwall, but we have all done things we are not proud of. What matters is how we move forward.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Leaving the Inquisition: (what do they say or do if the approval is low enough for them to leave?)

Ori will leave the Inquisition if her approval becomes low enough, or after choices she disapproves of after In Hushed Whispers/Champions of the Just or The Judgement of Anders.

Ori will be found packing her bags in the infirmary. If this takes place after Anders’ execution, she will be seen holding his mage robes to her chest and weeping. She will not acknowledge the Inquisitor until her name is spoken, and then she will turn around, visibly shaken and upset.

“I trusted you. I thought you might actually make a difference, that you cared. But you are just like the rest of them. You stand here claiming to be holy and expect me to believe that your God - any God - would condone this? You are drunk on power and your heart is bitter and cruel. I will not assist your crusade or become complicit as you remain blinded to the corruption running through the heart of your ideals. May your name and memory be erased. I pray we never meet again, Herald.”

#ash writes #ori lavellan #inquisitor as a companion #inquisitor lavellan #my ocs #oof this was long

109 notes · View notes

katalinhunter · 3 years

Text

Aberrant

Sandor was 9 years old when it happened. They had finished their chores back at the ranch and were running through the forest towards a nearby riverbank. Katalin had chasing after, moving with an easy lope as she watched her younger brother reach their goal. She could still see the sky peeking through the trees and silhouetting him near perfectly as he jumped up and down and celebrated his victory. She remembered laughing happily just before he fell. It had been storming for days and only finally cleared up that morning. His foot had slipped and he fell backwards, plummeting 12 fulm into the river below. She had rushed forward calling his name in a panic.

There. His body was limp as the river's swollen current carried him away. She ran alongside the river, keeping pace and calling his name, but nothing. In her panic she reached out and the elements answered. The current ceased for a moment then the river formed itself into a watery tower. Her brother was lifted up from the river then deposited back on the bank before Katalin who was watching with wide eyes. The river's crest pulled back then and she could feel the land vibrate under her feet as water crashed back down into its channel and continued on its way.

In a confused panic, she scooped him up and ran with him the malm back to the ranch. In the end, the only injury was a nasty bump on his head from the initial fall and thankfully he got better in no time.

Her fate was crueler.

The Padjal ruled the Shroud from the Lotus Throne, their will enforced by their command over the Elementals. The only others who were allowed the use of magic were the Silent Wardens who loyal solely to them. Children were tested on their sixth birthday and any who showed aptitude were taking into Old Gridania and never heard from again. For their loss, parents received a bag of coin and that was all - no more contact was allowed. Any that were found to have aptitude and were over the age of admittance were either exiled or killed, depending on the Padjal's whims. Any found harboring such were executed.

Csilla, Katalin's mother, would not suffer any risk to her family and once she heard the story of what had happened Katalin had been locked in her room to wait as she sent for the Silent Wardens. Her father just watched without word or comment before turning and heading back to her brother's room and tending to him. If he had had any concern for her he hid it well.

Katalin was sure that her mom only regretted that it was too late to trade her daughter for a payout.

She had run away of course, breaking out of her room and escaping into the wilder parts of the Shroud. There were those who helped her, a kind soul who would leave food or clothing for the stray girl lurking at the outskirts of their village. There were others who would try and take advantage of her outcast status, knowing that she couldn't report to the authorities. There was no help from the Keepers and Duskwights, both groups were too insular and unwilling to further risk the tenuous peace they had with Gridania.

It wasn't easy but she survived. In time she made her way to Vylbrand. An old healer took her in as his apprentice and between them they looked after the dockworkers, fishers, and farmers of their makeshift village. The seas were a constant, turbulent battlefield and sometimes a ship flying the colors of this pirate captain or that pirate captain would come through. The village survived by being both poor and friendly so there was never any significant violence from the various crews as they stopped over. It was a simple life, occasionally rowdy, and one she settled into for years.

A battle-worn ship had come in that night and both Katalin and her mentor had been called on to tend to their captain. He was a Keeper, around her age but more worn and as covered with scars as his ship. Apparently a 'business arrangement' had ended badly and the miqo'te had taken several blows from a heavy cutlass. He would live, but there had been no chance of saving his eye.

The sun was still lurking under the horizon when she escorted her mentor back to their small hut. She gave the old man, teacher and friend, a smile as she tucked him in then stepped back outside. There was a fresh breeze coming off the sea and she closed her eyes and turned to face it. She found herself thinking of that Captain and his terrible wit but incredible restraint as they had tended to him. He was handsome in a way... she gave a quick laugh and spun, bare feet dancing in the grass.

Knowledge and memories in an instant. This was her life now - had always been.

#ffxiv #ffxiv rp #ffxiv write #ffxiv write 2021 #prompt 2 aberrant

15 notes · View notes

astrolovecosmos · 4 years

Text

Neptune in the Houses and The Dissolved Ego

“Neptune embodies the urge to transcend the boundaries that keep the soul separate from the whole. Neptune seeks dissolution of the ego, the small self, but this can dissolve into not knowing who or what the self really is.” - Judy Hall.

Neptune in the 1st: There is a sometimes unrealistic environment around the development of self. Many warn of being impressionable, that there are no boundaries for the self. In best case scenario one could argue the ego sees past itself with this placement. This person has a more immediate understanding of the human condition and especially feelings of others. From this can be a healer, poet, helper, maybe empath BUT from this can also be a struggle to find self. In a more negative scene this can be someone with less boundaries, they find it easy to become intimate and vulnerable. Intimacy can be a weapon they wield or blocks for relationships to build or both.

Neptune in the 2nd: Let me guess have you heard that this placement is bad with money? They always are left wanting, even if well off? They are impractical? While I won’t say these associations are completely untrue I understand if you are tired of them. With Neptune in the 2nd things like art/creativity build up their worth. If we look at more specific associations - photography, music, dancing, and poetry. Religion or spirituality could help them feel more bounded to the real world. In the 1st intuition is seen in the self but I would make a claim this placement has a lot of seen or outward intuition too. Here this exist in a tangible way. Their intuition interacting with reality. We know substances are associated with Neptune, there comes a warning that substances can boost their self-esteem but in a house connected to the senses there can be more of a spiritual experience with some substances, of course I know this is a controversial take. Finding great value and meaning for the self in something as innocent as food and drink could be part of this interpretation with substances + senses + value. In terms of “ego”, this allows one to find value in elements other than the material. Ego does not have to rely on objects of wealth. There is depth in a house that tends to get a very surface level reputation.

Neptune in the 3rd: Known to be elusive in communication and connection. A natural knack for creativity which really comes from an idea that they do best with creative ways to learn. The ego here doesn’t get hung up in words and intellectual dogma. There is a way to share feelings and thoughts that reaches others. Expression and learning are important to them especially in an artistic sense such as poetry and song writing. Easily distracted and can lack discipline but they are highly adaptable and this may be seen most in their childhood as well as times when they are open to learning. They help others understand them, the nature of emotions, and fellow humans through communication.

Neptune in the 4th: Things like pride or selfishness are likely to not get in the way of what matters most - family or the feeling of finding belonging. Attachment to the changeable and an unstable home life is associated with this placement. But intuition and feeling is nurtured from their past somehow. This is a highly sensitive individual who was not programmed into being misled by the ego. The flip side of this is that their sense of self might not have been solidified growing up. Selfish wants and needs were not always catered to and this can have both positive and negative outcomes. On the positive this is someone who can be giving and easily sympathizes with others, may even have a sense of humility. But a lack of boundaries and self-focused needs being met can still have consequences that allow them to be easily used and hurt. Learning that change is the only constant at an early age can be an area of strength for them.

Neptune in the 5th: Could get carried away in romances and easily lose sense of self within them BUT while I don't want to downplay those risks, if there was a house with plenty of positives for Neptune it is this one. A creative, intuitive, and emotionally in-tune planet sitting in the house of pleasure, play, and creativity. Neptune can be about romance and in the 5th... here the ego dissolves into foam of fantasy feelings and expectations. Disappointment and crashes down to earth can await but at least here the soul, the individual gets to feel something truly special in their romances. "Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." There is a greater understanding about themselves and about others when they dive into the arts/creative expression. Pleasure, the joys of life are felt on another level, maybe even a spiritual one.

Neptune in the 6th: Creativity, imagination, and intuition in the mundane is a gift for this placement. Prone to hypersensitivity and over stress is one burden of this placement but that hypersensitivity still has the ability to grow emotional and inner strength. Here the ego is dismantled by a desire to truly serve and help others. Teamwork and honestly a humanitarian aspect exist in this house. Neptune is here with a connection to human emotion and spirit. They give back on multiple levels.

Neptune in the 7th: Alright, loss of self in a relationship, easily being influenced and used, lack of boundaries - this does exist. Don't boil down Neptune in the 7th to just this. First their ability to read others is uncanny. They know what others need and want. Part of them is driven to please or care for others and this has an ability to be a good thing. The ability to adapt to others can be a skill. They share themselves with many and while this has its downside, while they should learn to protect themselves, this can still be great. One book describes the 7th as a place where we share our humanity. Giving many access to one's humanity, is a positive. Online I know many love to throw around the word "mirror". That element has a place here. They can at times act as a mirror for another, helping them see things in themselves and to learn. Of course "being a mirror" is not anyone's responsibility, something to keep in mind. Relating to another can be a spiritual experience and in many ways, shouldn't it be like this? In the 7th, the ego is dissolved into others.

Neptune in the 8th: Yes their intuition is powerful, it is strong. Can we get an applaud for this? Many books and articles I see warn of a lot of danger and negatives with this placement. A warning of being taken advantage of financially is talked about frequently. If I had to distill it down, the warning would be this: don't let anything good slip away from you. Appreciate what you have in the moment and watch out for the wolf in sheep's clothing. Here walls are peeled away in terms of intimacy, giving, sharing, fears, and the unknown. Not an open book but they have no fear of vulnerability. It is their hunches that will protect them because without it there is just an urge to merge and to share. From this comes the danger of being deceived. The ego doesn't fear appearing weak, showing flaws, getting close. Maybe it isn't always that the ego is dissolved but shared. The self and its expectations, wants, needs are shared to whoever flashes vulnerability back at them. I would look at this as a place of bravery.

Neptune in the 9th: Something to be said about their idealism! Spiritual learning and subjects can take a seat here. "[there is the call] towards ritual and mysticism - or the illusions that pass for it." - Judy Hall. I think the 9th house is an area to be careful of in general - but that is a talk for another day. Be cautious of falling for spiritual illusions and being misled in the area of knowledge, education, morals, and religion. Be careful of blind faith. But Neptune here is in touch with the spiritual realm or the human spirit. Their own inner faith is not that of over confidence but a faith in the universe. Their beliefs overcome any of the ego's needs or insecurities.

Neptune in the 10th: Attracted to creative/artistic careers or careers that can heal/help/serve others - yes. okay. let's move on. Here we see the ego, the self being shared on a mass level. It is "dissolved" into the public sphere. No boundaries can be useful though, giving so many over access, honestly a possible good position for gaining "fame". But I don't like to label certain placements as the "fame" placement. You will find celebrities and public figures with all kinds of charts. But the idea that the public has easy access to them can be a real threat to be aware of too. They can be far reaching in their community or career. They make an influence on others which has its positives and negatives. They connect with others easily on a platform, through their art, or through their work. On an even larger scale, when thinking about society here is someone who can help make the world a better place.... or could set in motion harmful ideologies and emotions to cling to. An ability to see the wounds in society is a strength that would benefit many of us.

Neptune in the 11th: So sensitive to the collective, to the group, maybe even the mood of the room. There is compassion for their fellow woman/man. Being easily fooled/misled in a group setting can be a big negative. Being used by friends is a reoccurring theme. This is a very cordial, amiable, and accepting placement when it comes to dealing with others. Intuition among the collective and within the social realm is strong and this will help them to overcome issues with deceptive or unhealthy friendships. The ego puts down its sword and shield to connect with others in the most straightforward way. It can forge spiritual bonds with people that is unsullied by heavy expectations. Depth can be found in friendship, in a group, in an organization, among an array of relationships and depth doesn't have to be confined to romance or family.

Neptune in the 12th: If there was a place the ego would metaphorically "die", this would be it. Tapping into intuition, creativity, spirituality are strong but out of all that, I want to put the spotlight on how this gives someone a very deep ability to connect with the human condition and the human spirit. Kindness and forgiveness are learned here. I emphasize learn, not inherit, not natural, learned. Understanding when one is a victim that needs to be saved and when one needs to move past being a victim is important. Strength will always exist in the non-tangible. Strength exist in uncovering what is hidden. Strength comes from understanding and accepting what is within.

#neptune #planet #zodiac #astrology #neptune in the houses #natal chart

2K notes · View notes

hellowkatey · 3 years

Text

Febuwhump day 3

Prompt: imprisonment

Warnings: medical trauma

read on AO3!

A Long Way Down

Bright lights pass in quick variables, and it takes Obi-Wan a moment longer than it should to realize he's lying on a stretcher, oxygen mask strapped to his face and wires and cuffs on every available piece of skin. He groans, catching the attention of Commander Cody who is running beside the stretcher.

"Not to worry, General, we are almost at the med bay."

That is exactly why I am worried.

He reaches up slowly to pull the mask off his face as the stretcher slows, looking up at his Marshall Commander. "Cody... what happened?"

"An explosion, sir. Tunnel collapsed," he pauses. Cody already knows his follow up question. "The men are okay. You... Force-pushed them out of the way."

Well, that explains why my body feels like it has been crushed under a ton of rocks... supposedly it has.

Obi-Wan has no memory of this, but from the grim looks on the faces of all the troopers surrounding him he suspects he 1. doesn't look good and 2. is as bad as he looks.

"How bad?" he asks as they guide the stretcher into the med bay and stop it next to a bed.

Cody looks at Helix, the medical clone who seems to be trying hard not to make eye contact with him. With the penetrating stare of both his Commander and General, Helix finally looks up from the datapad.

"We're gonna have to dunk you, General."

He blinks, letting the words slowly settle into his discombobulated brain. Usually, he would protest. Make a fuss about being fine, because usually, he is, and medical can put their resources elsewhere. Usually, they would lock the doors as soon as he enters-- he glances over and yes, they did. What am I going to do, run? Obi-Wan is fairly sure both of his legs are crushed judging from the odd angles they are at, so he isn't sure how they expect him to make a break for it.

But today, Obi-Wan just lets his head fall back and he stares at the ceiling. He cannot protest because the tightness in his throat won't let him. He's afraid to open his mouth again because if he does his words will turn into sobs and his men do not deserve to see their General cry.

He can feel Cody and Helix's surprise. He doesn't have to look at them to know they are now even more concerned for him now that he hasn't tried to raise hell about being taken to medical. But they also seem to be relieved, so at least he can give them that respite.

He stares at the ceiling as movement begins to happen around him. Medical troopers pulling at the needles and sensors, inserting new ones. It all fades into a blur of hands touching him gently but firmly, frequent pinches and jolts of sharp pain, and the cool stickiness of applicators against his skin. Obi-Wan just stares at the ceiling.

He is fairly convinced that every medical facility has the same designer. Even the Jedi Halls of Healing have walls that are stark white. Sterile white. So bright they rival the glow of the iridescent lights, which is a design flaw in his opinion. Obi-Wan has spent a lot of time seeing these ceilings-- but not because he has spent a lot of time in medical. There is a reason he doesn't like to end up in the med bay, and the reason haunts him every time there is even a prospect of him having to go to see a healer.

Seven-year-old Obi-Wan Kenobi had feet too big for his body. It's like he began to hit a spurt, but only his feet realized that growth was the plan and the rest of his body was still figuring out how to stretch his small stature a few inches taller. It gave him the unfortunate nickname of Oafy-Wan, coined by his age-mates who he didn't exactly consider his friends. His clumsiness wasn't horrible, but it was distinctive enough to cause him a bit of trouble when practicing lightsaber katas and doing his physical activity tests.

On this particular day, seven-year-old Obi-Wan Kenobi had already had a very bad day. He fell in the middle of a practice spar in front of everyone. He wasn't even doing an acrobatic move or anything, he just fell over his own feet. The roar of “Oafy-Wan” was the only thing he could hear as he stared at the floor in shock of how quickly everything had transpired. Despite Bant's sympathetic reassurance and his other friends trying to overpower the chant, he spent the rest of the lesson trying to make himself as small as possible.

His pouting continued through the day, even to their long-awaited field trip to the Senate Rotunda. He walked with his creche mates, tuning out of their excited conversation of seeing the massive Galactic Senate chambers and instead focusing on the speeders rushing past just meters away from them. He wished to just jump into one and speed away from it all. Despite his prior excitement for this journey out of the Temple, he now wants nothing more than to go back to his dorm and curl up in his bed.

"Don't trip, Oafy-Wan," a familiar snide voice rings in his ear. He turns to see Bruck Chun, one of his age-mates that often leads the cause against him, sneering at him. "It's a long way down."

They're walking along a more narrow section of the street. Just a few meters to the left there is a deep chasm that goes into the lower depths of Coruscant. So deep he cannot see the bottom.

Obi-Wan brushes him away, in no mood to deal with him. "Get lost, Bruck." His arm presses into Bruck's side, pushing him away, which is not to the pleasure of his age-mate. Bruck's eyes narrow, and he jabs his elbow into Obi-Wan's back.

"Don't push me."

Anger surges in Obi-Wan's chest as he staggers forward. He whirls around and uses both hands to push Bruck into the wall of the building they are passing. A few initiates have stopped now to watch them, but as they stand at the back of the group the mass have not noticed their tussle.

"Funny, it seems I'm doing just that."

Bruck runs at him this time, his anger potent in the Force, and Obi-Wan suddenly has the clarity that maybe this isn't a good idea. He jumps out of the way of Bruck's charge, vaguely aware he is standing at the edge of the street now. Bruck skids to a stop.

"Coward," he spits, just as the Master leading their field trip calls for them to stop lagging.

Obi-Wan avoids Bruck's gaze as he passes by him, pointedly smacking his shoulder into his. Obi-Wan sighs, and turns to join the group.

As he turns, he finds himself suddenly caught in the air stream of a speeder that is too close to the sidewalk. He feels his small body lifted off the ground, and he flails in fear at the lack of anything for him to grab onto. A chorus of yelling erupts, most of them either calling his name or Master Vant. Obi-Wan can see the ground, and he tries to position his feet to land there, but another passing speeder sends him into a tailspin.

And Obi-Wan falls.

Even years later as a Jedi Master, Obi-Wan remembers falling down that speeder shaft. When he thinks about it he can hear the screams of his friends as they watched him fall. He can see them peering over the side. Master Vant running up and raising her hand to reach for him in the Force.

Had she reached him a moment earlier she probably could have saved him. But his downward momentum was suddenly ceased as he crashed against a speeder before she had the chance to cushion his descent. And he was met with horrendous pain and the taste of blood. Much like how he feels laying in the med bay now. Everything afterward was a blur.

"Are you ready, General?" Helix asks. Obi-Wan looks past him to see the bacta tank is all set up. Obi-Wan swallows hard, and he says nothing, but Helix takes that as a yes. His stretcher starts to float toward the tank, and he squeezes his eyes shut as the horrible memories come rushing back.

Choking. Obi-Wan expected to wake up in a reality beyond life-- he truly believed he would be returned to the Force, but instead, he woke up choking. He started to panic before he opened his eyes, and when he finally tried to find the reason for his restrictive breathing the initiate realized he can't see either.

He tries to thrash around, but his movements seem to be restricted somehow. Like he is tied up, but he can't feel bounds. His body just isn’t listening to him, which is even more terrifying. He tries to blink through the thick goo that seems to be covering his eyes, but it won't clear. It burns instead. He's trapped in a senseless prison, and he lets his panic radiate outward into the Force. He needs someone to hear him. Find him. Anything.

The Force responds with a collective feeling of shock. He repeats his plea for freedom, and finally, he hears something. Distant talking. Yelling, actually. Frantic. There is the deafening sound of suction, and then Obi-Wan is falling again. Slower than before but in his mind's eye he sees his friends staring down at him. Laughing at him. Oafy-Wan! They cackle. It's a long way down.

He hits the floor. The gel material that once encased him sloshes everywhere. His body curls into a ball and he feels many pairs of hands grabbing him and positioning him onto his back despite his protests. The touches are not comforting. Their goal seems to be to push him right back into the place he just escaped, and he begins to sob in terror. The voices are blending together as his vision begins to tunnel again.

"...sedative wasn't enough."

"How did he wake..."

"Get him back under!"

It was explained to him by one healer that his IV fell out of his arm. Another told him that the dosage was too light. A third said the adrenaline caused his metabolism to spike, making the correct dosage go quicker. Obi-Wan isn't sure why he woke up while in the bacta tank that day, but he suspects knowing the reason wouldn't have changed the panic he feels every time he has to take a dunk.

Obi-Wan grabs Helix's arm as he is about to inject his IV. The medic freezes and looks down at him.

"You have my correct doses from the Temple, correct? For the general anesthetic?"

Helix blinks before nodding. "Of course, General."

"And you know Jedi tend to metabolize quicker as well? You will have someone monitoring my consciousness?"

"Yes sir, we have detailed training from your healers on Jedi care. We will ensure you receive the right dose and don't get too much anesthetic."

He nods with wide eyes. His medic is slightly off in the reason for his inquiries, but it is comforting enough.

Even so, as the drugs begin to take him under he can't help but feel like he is seven again. Faded conversations of the medical troopers become the hushed words between Jedi Healers. The same fear of waking up within the tank again grips him with an iron fist around his already-intubated throat.

Never again could he look at a bacta tank and see it as an innovative medical advance. To Obi-Wan, it is a torturous prison that causes his fear to shamefully make an appearance.

He is positioned into the tank. The transperisteel doors close around him, and already he can feel his heart rate elevating. Why am I not asleep yet? Why am I still awake for this? Am I to do this conscious?

The bacta starts to fill at his feet slowly. He feels the urge to lift his legs and climb away from the rising gel, but his body has already separated from his mind. He cannot slam his fists against the doors and beg to be let free. Cannot scream with the tube down his throat.

As the bacta reaches his knees, he finally feels the heaviness reach his eyes, and Obi-Wan says a last plea to the Force to let him stay asleep for the entirety of his imprisonment.

#febuwhump #febuwhump 2021 #febuwhumpday3 #imprisonment #medical trauma #panic attacks #obi-wan kenobi #initiate obi-wan kenobi #i interpreted imprisonment very loosely as you can tell #star wars #ao3

39 notes · View notes

sagasofazeria · 3 years

Text

Stories of the Past

Song of the Seven Suns, Part 7

Summary: The gang recovers from their battle with Dymea, and head back to Koretion to celebrate their victory. Stories are shared.

Taglist (just ask to be added/removed!): @hellishhin @talesfromaurea @thelaughingstag

content warnings: slavery/child slavery, kidnapping, torture, swearing and strong language, alcohol, violence, blood, gore, death, discussion of trauma/childhood trauma, child abandonment

word count: ~6500

The clouds had finally broken, and the newly risen sun was beginning to burn off the mist and rain of the night.

As the warmth of day spilled onto the scorched camp, it found the five companions beaten, battered, exhausted, and covered in mud and blood, yet victorious all the same.

Jetra knelt silently at the top of the hill, staring at the corpse of the woman who’d killed her father. Tears were falling in rivers down her face as she gripped the hilt of her blade and pulled it free from Dymea’s skull.

Dymea’s last words would haunt her, but she’d done it. After 3 years of anguish & anger, it was done. Just like that, she was dead. Jetra had no idea how to feel, her mind was fuzzy and blank. Where did she even go from here?

Before she figured that out, though, she decided it was time to enjoy a well-earned victory, preferably with a lot of wine and a good song.

She stood, flicking the blood and brains off of her sword, and limped her way down the hill to where the rest of the group was waiting.

The others were all gathered around a large rock that jutted out of the hillside, leaning against it and breathing hard. Alejandro was grimacing in pain, holding his arm as Faulkron helped him stand, and Jetra ran to him first.

“What happened?” she asked hurriedly, seeing the wound.

“Oh nothing,” he chuckled. “Just a... agh, a spear through the shoulder. It’s not a big problem,” he said. “I’ll be fine. Heal the others.”

Jetra stared at him, incredulous. “Um, excuse me? You can barely move your arm because there’s a huge godsdamned hole in it. Shut up and let me work.”

Alejandro grunted but did as he was told, and Jetra placed her hand on his shoulder, channeling as much magic as she could. Her magic welled up inside her, waiting to flow out. and as she released it, she hummed the first song that came to mind without thinking.

She found herself humming the song her father would always sing to her mother when he returned home safe from an adventure, when they would all dance on the roof and laugh and sing and smile. She could see it painfully clearly, and her heart ached with loss and joy at once.

As the magic faded, Jetra shook herself out of her memories. She felt tears threaten to fall again, but she sniffled them away before they could, and smiled at Alejandro, hoping he hadn’t noticed. She’d save crying for later.

“Better?” she asked.

“Sí, gracias,” he said, rotating his arm a little bit. He winced slightly, but the only thing remaining was some rough scar tissue, and he assured her he’d be fine.

She moved over to the others, kneeling next to Fuego, who was still grimacing, his normal exuberant energy gone. “Fuego, are you all right?”

“I’m mostly okay, thanks to you. I’m pretty sore though, so I wouldn’t mind a bit of magic,” he smiled weakly.

Jetra looked up at Shakari, who was sprawled against the sun-warmed side of the boulder, holding in one hand a dagger that was jammed between the large scales on their chest.

“Shakari, are you okay? Do you—“

Jetra never finished her sentence, only able to watch with mouth agape as Shakari took a deep breath and pulled the dagger free with a growl.

Shakari turned to Jetra again. “I’ll be fine, spend your magic on him,” she said through gritted teeth as she tossed the blade aside.

Jetra hurriedly closed her mouth and nodded, letting the last of her magical energy flow into Fuego, and he took his first real deep breath since the battle.

“Thanks.”

“Of course, friend.”

Fuego smiled at her before pushing himself to his feet.

“Well, I gotta go find my sword and make sure all these fires are out,” he said as he stood and stretched.

Shakari nodded, standing as well. “I can help.”

They walked off, and the other three turned to each other.

“We need to free the prisoners and bring them back to Koretion as soon as we can,” Alejandro said, quickly walking towards the nearest cage.

While he and Faulkron broke locks, gathering the people near the entrance to the camp, Jetra searched the slavers’ corpses for a key. Finally finding one, she rejoined the other two in freeing the people.

As they scoured the camp, she was mortified to see how many people were imprisoned. She was glad to have gotten rid of the slavers, but she knew this would leave a wound, both with the people who would return and the people who wouldn’t.

Once they’d freed the rest of the exhausted but relieved prisoners, Jetra addressed them all where they had gathered at the bottom of the hill, taking a deep breath and composing herself.

“Good people! There’s no need to worry any longer, we’re here to help you. We’re going to bring you back to Koretion. You can rest soon,” she said, using a bit of magic to make her voice slightly louder over the confused whispers and relieved cries of the freed people.

One older dwarven woman stepped forward from the crowd, and many of the others seemed to pause, looking at her with a flash of respect in their eyes. “We owe you an enormous thanks, heroes. Who... who are you?”

Jetra looked to either side of her. Faulkron and Alejandro stood to her left, still bruised and bloodied themselves. Alejandro had a distant look in his eyes, and Faulkron was breathing deeply with arms crossed, taking in the victory even as he squinted in the sun.

Fuego and Shakari were approaching from her right, giving a signal that all the fires were out. Fuego was smiling, and jogged up to them eagerly. Shakari took their time, looking to the sky with a relieved expression of their own.

Jetra took the necklace with the blue moon symbol from around her neck, and showed it to the woman.

“Just a group of people in the right place at the right time,” she said with a smile.

The woman looked at the pendant, and there was a spark of recognition in her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I was hoping,” she said, and pulled back a tattered sleeve to reveal a small blue moon tattoo on her forearm, mostly obscured by thick hair. It was a symbol Jetra knew well.

Jetra smiled back. “Let’s get you all home.”

The woman nodded, and the five companions began to lead the people back through the hills.

•••

When they returned to Koretion, they were greeted with cheers and tears of joy, as families, friends, and lovers were reunited.

They were called heroes many times that morning, and Faulkron didn’t know what to do with it.

Was he a hero? It felt good to be called that, but he wasn’t certain he had really been a hero, whatever that even meant. He’d really only come for the money. Or at least, that’s what it had been at first. Over the last few days, he’d seen so many people full of fear and despair. Now he only saw joy, and he felt a weight lifted off of his own chest as well. A satisfaction he hadn’t felt before.

The whole town was celebrating as they walked up the side of the quarry to the guard post. People were dancing in the streets, music was being played, stories of their victory were already being told and songs were being sung. The mines were empty and the town alive, as the dreary gray of Koretion became a colorful joy, banners put up and braziers lit to welcome the lost home.

Even as they entered the militia building, there were people thanking the newly crowned heroes.

Jetra led them through the curtain to the militia captain’s room. Horakes greeted them eagerly as they entered.

“So you’ve done it? They’re gone?”

Jetra nodded, smiling wide. “They are. Dymea is dead. We did it, Horakes, we fucking did it. We’re gonna need some medical attention, ‘cause magic only does so much, but until then, yes, we did it. I’ve avenged him.”

Horakes nodded and smiled, though Faulkron noticed his eyes did not hold the same joy and relief as Jetra’s. There was something else hidden within them that wasn't quite the elation of victory, though he did not know what.

“I’m proud of you, kid. I assume these are your allies?” he asked, turning to the rest of them.

Faulkron nodded to him. “That would be us.”

“I assume you’re here for your pay?” Horakes asked, reaching onto his belt for a bag of coins.

Faulkron nodded, thanking him as he handed Faulkron the money.

“Of course, whatever it takes to save my city,” he said with a bow.

Jetra nodded back. “Thanks, Horakes,” she said, before turning to the rest of the group. “Now I do believe it’s time to go enjoy this victory, yeah?”

“Oh gods, I’m so hungry you have no idea. Let’s go,” Fuego said earnestly, already starting to head out the door.

He was cut off suddenly by a halfling woman with wild curly hair, dressed in healer’s robes with her hands on her hips.

“Uh-uh, I don’t think so. Each and every one of you is injured, and I’m not lettin’ the heroes of the town celebrate all day just to drop dead because of internal bleeding. Get over here,” she commanded, clearly not taking no for an answer, beginning to prepare bandages and medical supplies.

•••

That afternoon, after they’d been well tended to, they were welcomed with cheers and smiles back to the Bedrock & Breakfast.

They were quickly surrounded by grateful townsfolk and awestruck children, the tavern full to nearly bursting.

As the day wore on, it was easy to see that Jetra was truly in her element now. The children’s mouths hung open in rapt interest as she told them a grand, if simplified, tale of their adventure, Fuego occasionally jumping in with his own inputs.

When the tale was done, the children, as well as many of the adults, eagerly requested another story.

So she told another, a popular folktale to which no one knew the ending. She brought her stories to life in front of her, dancing colors and illusions acting out every word.

For much of the evening, they told stories to the crowd. When Jetra wasn’t weaving her epic tales, Fuego told some stories of his own. Standing on the table, he regaled the bar with sagas of sorcerer-kings and distant islands, even some of which he claimed were his own adventures. While Jetra’s stories were dramatic and evocative, Fuego’s were loud and grandiose, and filled with enough enticing details you might’ve thought he was adding more even as he told the tale. In between stories, Jetra led the celebrating townsfolk in songs and dances. With enough pestering, and a little help from the wine, she even convinced the rest of the group to join her as they danced around the bar.

When asked well into the afternoon if he would tell a story too, Faulkron simply shook his head. “I’m afraid I don’t have many grand tales to share. My life until now has been rather boring--”

“Azbolutely not! You’re cool! Tell us! Tell us!” One of the kids demanded, standing to emphasize her point.

The other children began to murmur in agreement, and eventually most of the bar was encouraging him to share a story. Faulkron chuckled, sighing. “Alright, alright. I might have one story.”

“Yay!” cheered the first kid, plopping back down on the rug that had been laid out.

“It’s the story of where I’m from, and how I got there.”

“Oooh, that sounds good! Tell us!”

“Okay, here goes...”

•••

Nearly three and a half decades earlier, and an ocean away, in the middle of the dry plains of the Unterras...

Ardos had been up far too late, far too often these last few cycles. Jamie, his oldest cow, was sick again, and he was starting to worry. It’d only been getting worse despite his efforts, and he wasn’t certain she’d make it to a temple this time if it came down to that.

Just before he could justify closing his eyes and drifting off, he heard a crash and the noises of startled livestock. Ardos jolted out of drowsiness and reached for the nearest thing resembling a weapon. He fumbled around for a second before finally finding purchase on his pitchfork.

Holding it out in front of him like a spear, he searched all through the house, but couldn’t find the source of the sound.

Then, he heard the unmistakable sound of a blade being drawn, and battle. He rushed outside to find the door to his stable broken in. He slowly approached, hands shaking and white-knuckled as he gripped the pitchfork, the sounds of swordfighting ringing from inside. When he reached the shattered door, he peered around the corner as far as he dared.

Inside, an elven man in unfamiliar garb was dueling a cloaked figure in equally unfamiliar white robes, their curved blades flashing in the moonlight.

Before Ardos could react, he watched the elf slash the other figure down, blood spattering across the ground as the horses whinnied. Ardos watched in shock as the corpse hit the ground, eyes lifeless.

The elven man’s ears swiveled at the sound of Ardos’ gasp, and he turned to Ardos with a rushed intensity. He began to speak rapidly in an unfamiliar tongue, before clearly realizing that Ardos couldn’t understand a word he was saying.

“I trust we both understand Common?” he quickly asked, grimacing in pain.

Ardos nodded, before finally noticing the wound on his chest.

“Oh my gods. Do you need help? I ca-“

“No. There is no time. You must listen to me,” he said, revealing a small bundle of colorful cloth. Ardos stared at it for a moment, puzzled, before the man turned it to show that within was a baby.

“Please. Raise my son. Keep him safe,” he said, panting and coughing. “I cannot protect him, but you can. I saw you. You care a lot about your animals, and I know you’d protect them,” he said. He gestured to the pitchfork Ardos had dropped. “Please, care for my son. I cannot, but you can.”

Ardos paused, then nodded, and the man handed him the child.

Then, the elf leaned in and whispered something to Ardos. What the father whispered that night, the baby would never hear, as Ardos nodded, staring down at the baby in his hands, and realizing his life just changed forever.

The elf stepped back. “Keep him safe.”

Then, the man ran off into the night, leaving Ardos to raise the child.

•••

The children sat around, mouths agape as Faulkron finished telling the story of his adoption.

“That’s how Ardos always said it happened, anyway. And he never did tell me what the warning was, as much as I annoyed him about it.”

“Hey mister sword man, sir? That wasn’t very boring, you were wrong,” the little girl said.

Faulkron smiled. “Well, it’s about the only story I have that isn’t, so I can’t do any more.”

Some of the other children were whispering, discussing the story in hushed awe. An older kid spoke up, scratching their head.

“Wait a minute, where did the man go?” he asked.

Faulkron waved to the mother as she cringed and attempted to shush her kid. “It’s fine, it’s fine.” Then he turned to the kid. “I don’t know where he is, to be honest. I’m not certain I want to know, though. He’s been gone long enough I don’t think it matters anymore, whatever his reasons were.”

The kid nodded, sitting back, deep in thought.

After Faulkron’s story, the tavern began to clear out, leaving the companions to themselves as the townsfolk began to return to their homes.

A few cups of wine (courtesy of the barkeep’s appreciation of the booming business), and after a while they were all reclining around a table, the day’s wounds and struggle forgotten for the moment.

Fuego grinned at them all, wine in hand. “I have to say, that plan went pretty damn well. We should do that more often.”

“Hey, you know I’m always up for a bit of righteous arson, my friend,” Jetra laughed, taking another drink.

“Agreed, we all made a pretty good team,” Alejandro said, raising his glass.

Fuego’s grin widened. “To ass well kicked, my friends.” He knocked his cup against Alejandro’s as they all joined in, laughter spilling out as if a dam had broken.

As their laughter quieted down, Shakari let out a long sigh. “It feels good, doesn’t it?”

The rest of the group all nodded and muttered agreements.

Faulkron felt that strange feeling bubbling up again. Victory, success... and something else. He looked around at all these people. Not only his companions, but the barkeep, the tavern patrons. He knew he’d outlive most of them, all of them who weren’t elves. Wasn’t what he did inconsequential, then? That would make sense, but it didn’t feel that way. He had changed a part of the world today, and for the better. He had to admit, it did feel good, and he found himself smiling along with the people he had started daring to call friends.

He realized that in the swirl of confusion and new feelings, he'd forgotten about the money they’d earned.

He grabbed the coins, and they split it as they finished their drinks.

After the coin had been shared, Jetra sat back and pulled out her harp again. She had drunk the most wine out of all of them, and her eyes had begun to glass over. After a long beat of silence, she started to play a simple melody, the notes falling like water in a gentle stream, an easiness settling over all of them as Jetra wordlessly played. They sat for a while in silence, just listening to the music.

Not long after the song had finished, as the final straggling townsfolk left the tavern, Shakari stood. “I’m going to go rest. This... was a good day. Sleep in peace, friends.”

As they disappeared into their room, Jetra stood as well, stumbling slightly. “Yeah. Thanks again... means a lot. When I’m not, uh, super fuckin’ drunk, I’ll explain more.. but I’m gonna go pass out.”

They all nodded, and she walked away.

The others sat for a while, each lost in their own thoughts, before Fuego stood too.

“I should head to sleep too, doctor’s orders... we didn’t do half bad.” He clapped Faulkron on the shoulder twice, then hopped off of his chair and took his leave, walking off to his room with a smile.

After a few minutes of content silence, Faulkron suddenly realized he was more or less alone with Alejandro again.

“Thank you for saving my life,’ Alejandro said, breaking the silence.

Faulkron startled, the sudden voice shaking him out of his own slightly panicked thoughts, and preventing him from making a fool of himself in an attempt to prevent that very thing.

“Oh. Yeah, yeah, no problem.”

“I’m serious, I probably wouldn’t have made it without you, so I am deeply grateful.”

Faulkron looked up from his empty cup, meeting Alejandro’s eyes. “You’re welcome, but it was mostly Jetra who healed you.”

Alejandro shook his head. “You give yourself too little credit. You were awesome out there.”

Faulkron felt his face flush a bit, and he hoped Alejandro couldn’t see the embarrassed hint of purple to his cheeks.

Alejandro’s smile faded slightly, and his eyebrows creased in worry. “You are alright, though? I know the healer did her thing and all, but..?”

“Oh, yeah yeah, I’m okay,” Faulkron said. “Real question is, are you okay? I mean, there was a lot happening, but you seemed... very upset? I don’t mean to pry, I’m just worried about- I mean, concerned—“

Alejandro held up a hand. “It’s okay.”

“Okay. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize. It’s just... well, it’s complicated.” Alejandro then paused for a while, and Faulkron began to think he’d said something wrong despite Alejandro’s reassurance.

Then he spoke again. “Would you, um... would you like to go up to the roof with me? I’d feel better talking about it there.”

Faulkron was a little confused as to why the roof would be better, but he nodded and followed anyway.

•••

As Alejandro led Faulkron to the roof, he found himself going silent. He’d never shared what he was about to share with anyone besides the people who’d rescued him so long ago, and he’d really only known this man a week. They’d gone out for drinks once. Faulkron was had saved his life, though. He trusted him, and he wanted to keep trusting him, so he was taking a leap.

Alejandro took a long shaky breath as they stepped onto the roof of the inn. He looked up at the sky for a moment, still readying himself. The last two days’ clouds had cleared and the stars were shining. They were scattered like bright paint across a dark canvas, haphazard and chaotic, but beautiful all the same. He sighed, staring for a moment longer, and turned to Faulkron. “It’s... it’s a long story, really.”

“I’ve got time.”

“It’s... not a happy one, either.”

“I’ll be fine. I’m glad to listen, if that’s what you want.”

Alejandro nodded, letting his last sigh of anxiousness leave him. “I think it is. You might want to sit then.”

They both sat down, eyes cast up at the night sky.

Alejandro sighed again, and he gripped the handle of his second sword, feeling the old worn leather there. As he stared at the stars, images and memories began to flash in his mind.

Staring up through a small square window at the same stars, unable to sleep.

The smell of blood and the stench of death, hot sand beneath his feet.

The burning of a brand on his arm.

“It was a very long time ago. It was only my 12th summer...”

•••

15 years earlier, somewhere along the western Leinos coasts...

Alejandro was playing with his siblings, rolling around on the sandy beaches of his home, when the ships came. They came to the beach, and a man with a crown stepped out.

He said he would burn the village to the ground if he did not have what he wanted. When the village people asked, he said that he wanted their children, the youngest and strongest. When the villagers refused, and the militia drew their weapons, the man fulfilled his promise. Fiery arrows and spears descended upon the village, shrouding the beach in a thick black smoke. In the smoke and ashes, they grabbed Alejandro and a handful of others, dragging them onto their ships as they sailed away.

They chained them inside the hull, rough and cruel. The captured children fought of course, they spat and growled and screamed. Then the man cracked a whip, and they all were suddenly very very quiet.

They were told that their old lives were over. The man with the crown said to forget their names, forget their village. Those with defiance in their eyes were whipped. Alejandro’s back took 5 lashes before he couldn’t look up again. The ships sailed for a long time. None of the prisoners spoke.

When they eventually reached land again, they were shuffled onto a beach, surrounded by lush greenery that told lies of beauty. Dominating the center of the island they were on was a gargantuan marble arena, tall, imposing, and oppressively white, almost blinding after the darkness of the slavers’ ships. And that was what they were, the prisoners soon realized. Fifteen frightened children stood there on the beach, the full weight of all that had happened crushing down on them. Alejandro’s own shoulders felt weak and weary, and his manacled wrists only dragged him further down.

Around them, hundreds of small huts and seemingly innumerable cages. They saw hundreds of people around them, and more and more slavers, pushing them along and barking commands. The children were led through the houses and lines of people, who looked at them with flitting eyes, so full of fear and pain they were hollow, ghostly.

Their gazes didn’t linger on them long, but their eyes stayed in Alejandro’s nightmares for years.

Alejandro and the others were pushed further onward, the massive arena approaching ever faster. When they finally reached it, they were led to a series of rooms carved out of the earth beneath the structure.

In the next few months, they were trained relentlessly. How to fight, how to be strong, but most importantly, how to obey. Alejandro quickly learned that the man with the crown who was not king very much liked to act like one. He paraded the children around the arena, boasting them as the newest gladiators for his ring.

And there was the ring. The sand red from battle, the cheers and jeers of a bloodthirsty crowd. Those first few months, Alejandro and the others only watched the fights. Massive beasts, mythical and mundane, squared off in the pit against older gladiators who in turn faced both man and beast on the sands. It was not long before Alejandro had seen enough people die in the ring that he couldn’t keep track anymore.

He had heard of gladiatorial games in the big cities, way to the east. No one ever died there, as far as he knew. But this was different.

When he was 13, after the better part of a year being relentlessly trained & conditioned, he stepped into the ring for the first time. His adversary was an older kid, whose eyes were hollow like the people outside. Acting on instinct, the battle ensued, fear disappearing as it was replaced by careful training. Alejandro found himself falling into a performance, and when the dust cleared, only he was left standing.

To congratulate his first kill, the man with the crown took him to the lowest room beneath the arena, where the earth’s heat powered a burning forge. As much as he struggled, he couldn’t stop them, and heated chains were pressed onto his arms, searing away the flesh, leaving a mark that would weigh on him for the rest of his life.

Alejandro faced death in the arena constantly for the entertainment of the crowds of the cruel, and it left many scars. During the next five years, he would watch as one by one, the others from his village would fall in the arena, each death met by cheers. Not long, and Alejandro was the only one left. In his time there, he also saw more ships come and go, bringing new gladiators, always young adults and teenagers, always broken.

Pasaos told Alejandro that he was one of the youngest he’d ever seen show up there in his time. Pasaos was an older gladiator. He’d seen much, and his eyes held a great suffering, but he cared for Alejandro like a father, or as much as he could. He taught him many things. How to stay alive, how to keep his spirit going, even while broken.

Alejandro never asked how long Pasaos had been there, or how many people he’d killed. They both knew better. Alejandro also never thought twice about the moon tattoo on his arm beneath the brand, not until the day it all came crashing down.

Alejandro was 18 now, and he knew his eyes were losing their fight. He had gone a very long time without becoming a ghost, but now it was a near thing. Though they were treated well enough for slaves, it was only to keep them in fighting shape. The slavers were quick to punish if they stepped out of line, even if it meant they lost a fighter for a bit. But they had never done an execution before.

When he was shoved out onto the sands, he saw Pasaos tied to a pole in the center of the arena, and he could feel the flames closing in around him again, about to lose the one thing he could call a home.

He could do nothing but watch as the man with the crown cut free Pasaos, handing him a blade with the smug confidence of a man holding another’s life in his hand. They fought, but Pasaos had been beaten and tortured before the execution, and he stood no chance. The man with the crown, who Alejandro had come to know was named Atticus, simply knocked aside Pasaos’ blows, and when he finally ran him through, he turned to the gathered gladiators in triumph. Alejandro barely remembered what happened next.

He remembered grabbing the blade from the sands, slashing at Atticus. He remembered fighting him, losing, bleeding, pain, tears. He remembered sudden movements, brown and blue cloaks descending on the arena, shouts, commotion. He stood again before the rest of the gladiators, surrounded by chaos he couldn’t understand, and he called them to arms, screaming all their pain as it echoed throughout the pit. He remembered chasing Atticus down, but being beaten into the dirt, unable to stop him from sailing away.

There on the beach, bloodied and broken, he swore this:

“Atticus the Cruel, man who wears a crown but is no king, I will drive this dishonored blade into your wicked heart if it is the last thing I do. Your obsession with death will serve you well when the day comes that I return this blade to the evil from which it came.”

Then he was found by the cloaked people who had saved him. They called themselves Company of the Blue Moon. They helped him recover, brought him back to land. They told him Pasaos had died a hero, he had gotten them to the island. In a way, young Alejandro realized, Pasaos had sacrificed his life for Alejandro’s future. He promised himself would not let him down. The Company gave him much time to rest, and he took it, but before long he found himself on the road again, always on the lookout for any sign of the man he had sworn to destroy.

•••

“And now... I’m here.” Alejandro let out a long breath.

There were a few beats of silence, his heart loud in his ears. The relief of sharing the pain he hid so often with someone he trusted was quickly being replaced by fear, and he started to wonder if he’d overshared. He didn’t look up at Faulkron, not sure what he’d see.

“I... I’m sorry that happened to you.”

When Alejandro turned to Faulkron, he was staring at him with genuine concern. Alejandro cast his eyes away again, but he felt the fear retreat, and he was once again glad for Faulkron’s presence.

He chuckled a bit, hoping it didn't sound too bitter. “Thanks. It was hell, but I’m here, I guess, and that’s what counts.”

Faulkron nodded, and there was another pause.

“That’s the sword, then?”

“Yes.”

Alejandro unsheathed the sword, looking over the blade. The moonlight glinted eerily off of the edge, as if the night knew they spoke of death. Alejandro put the sword away, and the two fell quiet again.

“You know they taught us how to die?” Alejandro spoke suddenly.

“They what?” Faulkron exclaimed, head snapping back toward him.

“Yeah.” Alejandro sighed. “They taught us how to die for a crowd. I’ve seen it happen so many times, and it’s sad, because... you know that death isn’t that. It’s gray, it’s cold, it’s empty. But we were taught how to make it grand and flashy. I saw my mentor do it when Atticus killed him. Hells, even Dymea, this morning. No one goes out like that without being trained for it.”

“That’s... horrible.”

“It was, but it’s done now. Or at least, I had hoped it was. Knowing there might be still more of these remnant groups out there... It looks like my work is cut out for me. This is the first I’ve seen in a long time.”

Faulkron paused for a moment, deep in thought. “I... I will gladly go with you. You won’t fight Atticus alone this time. And I swear to you, you won’t die like that. Not while there’s still blood in these veins,” he promised, placing a hand over Alejandro’s.

Alejandro stared at him a moment, startled by the sudden sincerity and intensity.

“I... you have no idea how much that means to me.”

Faulkron looked at him for a moment longer, before seemingly coming to a decision. “I’m not big on hugs, but do you want one?” he asked, opening his arms.

Alejandro paused for a moment, but eventually he nodded and pressed himself into Faulkron. He let out a sigh as his arms wrapped around him, their strength anchoring him in the moment.

Alejandro eventually broke away, wiping away the tears that had streaked down his face.

“Thanks, Faulkron. I’m glad I could trust you. And... I don’t know where you’re going, or what you’re after, but I’d like to help you find it too.”

Faulkron nodded, looking back up to the stars. “I’m not sure yet... I think, a purpose, but I don’t know it yet. But I’d enjoy your company on the road either way.”

Alejandro nodded and smiled at him. He offered out a hand.

Faulkron grasped it, and Alejandro pulled him to his feet and bringing them face to face. Alejandro’s eyes twinkled in the moonlight as he laid a brief kiss on Faulkron’s cheek.

“Thank you.”

Faulkron smiled at him, and they headed back down into the inn together.

•••

The next day, the five companions woke to a far more somber Koretion. That morning, the townsfolk grieved those they had lost. The bodies that had been retrieved from the bandit camp of the missing scouts and militia were gathered. Funeral shrouds were burned, and white-crested helmets were placed on the pyres. The deepest grief, though, was of those whose loved ones there was no trace of. A messenger on horseback rode out at midday headed for the bigger cities and eventually the capitol, bearing news of what had happened and the people missing, as well as a request for help in the search. Jetra ensured the messenger, who wore a familiar crescent tattoo, carried a message of her own as well.

While the most part of the day held a stark grief and sadness, it was not all-consuming. In the face of that loss, there was still joy in knowing it wouldn’t happen again, and the people began to gather once more that evening. They celebrated the happiness in the lives of those they had lost, honoring their memory with joy rather than anguish. And so the town returned to celebration, even bittersweet as it was. Jetra played ballads of memory in death and the joys of life, songs the citizens of Koretion already knew well. Alejandro was playing games with some of the kids, the occasional toddler hanging off of his bicep as he practically juggled children, smiling and laughing all the same. Fuego was dancing around the central pavilion, putting on a beautiful display as multicolored flame swirled around him in time with the music, the people watching in awe and wonder.

Faulkron watched it all from the sidelines, mostly Alejandro if he was being honest. As he watched Alejandro smile and pick up a leather ball, and toss it back to a child, he couldn't help but feel at least a little overwhelmed, in a good way. He certainly looked very very cute right now, for one. But the way the sunlight was shining on his grinning face almost made him look comfortable, at ease. And Faulkron hadn’t seen Alejandro at ease since they’d first discussed the slavers back in Corias.

Alejandro had shared so much with him last night, and it was showing him a new light. He knew now why he’d joined them on the journey, why he’d been so tense during that first ambush. Faulkron felt a new bond of trust between them, far closer than he would have expected in just a week. Alejandro had clearly been through hell, so Faulkron really wasn't sure why he’d trust him with something like this already. He wasn’t even sure he’d earned that trust, though he would admit he wanted to, badly. He had no idea what they even were yet. Given how much Alejandro had been through, and how stressful the last few days had to have been for him, Faulkron was more than willing to let him decide where this went, and he’d go along for the ride. His life had made a turn for the better and the interesting, that was for sure.

“You look like you’re deep in thought.”

Faulkron shook himself out of his reverie and turned towards the voice.

Shakari had sat down next to him at some point, and she was watching the celebration as well.

“I was, yeah.”

“I understand. Much has happened in the last week, for all of us,” Shakari said, eyes still watching the pavilion.

“You’re not wrong. I don’t even really know how I ended up here, but it seems... good,” he mused.

“It is. We did something good. All of us.”

“It’s weird to hear that, you know. I’ve never been called a hero before, and I’m still not sure what to do about it,” Faulkron said with a small sigh.

Shakari raised an eyebrow, turning to him. “I understand that, it’s a first for me too. Yet there is no denying we are heroes to these people, and we made the world better for it.”

Faulkron nodded, unsure what to say.

Shakarin placed a hand on his shoulder. “I think you are someone who follows the path before them when it is presented, even if it is yet untraveled. You have a wanderer’s eyes.”

Faulkron creased his brow. “What makes you think all that?”

“I am the same.”

Faulkron turned back to her, and saw a deep sincerity in her eyes.

“I am going to follow this path wherever it may take me,” she said, turning back to the celebration.

Faulkron thought for a moment, staring into the crowd again. He smiled quietly to himself. He wasn’t sure what direction he’d found himself stumbling in, but it felt good, and he liked these people, and he liked being called a hero. So he supposed it wouldn’t be so bad to keep going down this road.

“I think I am too.”

Part 6 | Part 8

8 notes · View notes