#but in my defense i have always struggled with very low energy levels SO
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significance.
50 Cliché Tropes and Prompts: 26. Cuddling in comfortable silence before murmuring “I love you” + 47. “I’ve been in love with you for years”
Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 4,118 words
Warning: Swearing, violence
His head feels like it’s been split open, the rest of his body feels like one giant bruise and the Handler’s daughter has her fancy leather boot on his fucking throat.
Five couldn’t be less surprised by his luck.
“Doesn’t feel so good, does it?”
He forces in just enough breath to answer her. “Eat shit and die …!”
The reaction is worth it. Lila lets out a furious cry, gritting her teeth and bringing her foot down even harder – and in doing so, changes her center of gravity. Opportunity. Five digs his nails into that damned shoe and pushes upwards. The sudden force sends her flying, and he can breathe again.
Fighting the ache in his bones, Five stumbles to his feet as she does the same. “Come on,” he pants, readying his stance as the woman turns to face him again. “What are you waiting for? Let’s finish this thing.”
She shakes her head. “No,” she whispers, sniffling. “This isn’t gonna be quick. You are going to suffer for what you did.”
Suffer? For Christ’s sake – Five scoffs and drops his hands. “Lady, I got no idea what you’re talkin’ about.”
“Ronnie and Anita Gill.”
“Mean nothing to me.”
“1993, East London.” Lila continues to stare at him like he knows what the hell she’s talking about. “You hog-tied them and you shot them in the head.”
Five narrows his eyes; it’s very possible that she’s just bullshitting him. But despite the rationality of just ignoring her and going for the kill, he searches his memories anyway. 1993, East London. Hog-tied. Tables overturned, the pleas of a couple inside a tiny flat in the middle of the night. Yes, wait – he does remember. 1993, toys strewn everywhere – he told you to close your eyes but you didn’t – East London, two quick shots –
“We had no choice.”
“I know. But …”
“The flower merchants,” he murmurs. Five looks at her with wide eyes. “They were your parents …!”
“And they never did anything to anyone. They didn’t deserve to die like that.”
The Handler ordered him to kill Lila’s parents. Lila, who has powers like them. That couldn’t have been a coincidence.
Absorbing this newfound information, Five attempts to talk the woman down as he fills out the rest of the picture. “You’re right, alright? I killed them. But I killed a lot of people over the years. It was all just a job. Alright? That was never personal.”
At that, Lila laughs. “‘Never personal,’ my ass,” she sneers. “Yeah, I’ve killed – it’s always, always personal.”
“That’s why you’re not cut out to be an assassin.”
She yanks a knife out of her boot as soon as the sentence leaves his mouth. “Bet your life on that?”
Right then, a shadow moves in the doorway to the barn. Five immediately knows who it is, and his heart seizes in his chest.
“Lila!” Your voice is firm and taunting.
Shit. Shit!
Without hesitation, Five lunges for the knife, only to find himself grabbing at air as Lila reappears behind you. The blade is pressed against your neck before he can even shout your name.
Five clenches his fists as he meets your eyes. Your expression is stony, hands stiffly grasping at Lila’s arm. Jesus Christ, just a little energy to blink – nothing –!
Fucking shit!
“Let her go.”
—
The bearded man smiles. “Sorry, no can do.”
The alley is frigid and dark, the air damp and rotting. He doesn’t move a muscle. In front of him, you breathe steadily, in and out, not saying a word. The steel barrel pressed flush to your temple mirrors the one against his.
“Just hand over your valuables and that briefcase, and we can be on our way.”
“Sorry,” you say, voice steady and cold. (It makes him proud.) “Everything stays with us.”
He looks at you. You blink.
Within the next half-second, he’s knocked your captor to the ground and the two of you are aiming the guns at their previous owners. They raise their hands almost immediately. Exactly like the exercise from his youth.
Another half-second, and both of you pull the triggers.
Five stares down at the corpse now lying on the ground. Then he straightens his tie and turns to you.
You’re still pointing the gun at the other target. His frown softens.
“[Y/n].”
Putting a hand on your arm, he notes how you stiffen, snapping out of whatever zone you had been in. You meet his eyes and breathe in sharply, then relax.
“We’re done.” You frame the question as more of a statement as Five takes the former thief’s gun from you.
“For the night,” he affirms, holding your gaze curiously. “You good?”
You wet your lips and tuck your weapon away. “I’m okay,” you eventually reply. He raises an eyebrow; your mouth twitches. “I just – well, you’re taking this whole assassin thing a lot better than I am. Pointing guns and shooting and killing for real, and – and all that pizzazz.”
“I was a member of the Umbrella Academy,” Five points out dryly. “Thirteen more years of formal training and being able to spatial jump gives me somewhat of an advantage.”
“… That’s true.” Still, you seem unsettled. “Five, you’re okay with this? We’re … killing people.”
“No. But we have no other option,” he says. “It’s only until I figure out how to get us back, alright?”
You hesitate, then nod. “Alright.”
The pair of you leave the alley, leaving the targets there to be found by the police. The fact that they had a gun pointed at your head should make him feel better about it. They were already criminals, too. Self-defense instead of cold-blooded “corrections.”
There’s still a bitter taste in his mouth anyway.
“You hold your own pretty well,” he murmurs after a while, trying to distract himself.
You grant him a small, knowing smile. “Thanks,” you say, taking his arm as the pair of you walk the rest of the way to the motel. “I had a good teacher while I was stuck in the ruins of the apocalypse.”
He hums. “Weren’t you lucky?”
Your hand tightens around the sleeve of his tailored suit.
“The luckiest.”
—
He’s going to kill her.
Teeth bared, Five starts toward her, only to stop short when Lila presses the blade harder against your throat.
“Not another step, Five,” she warns him, her grip tightening. “Or you’ll both regret it.”
“She’s not responsible for what happened. I was the one who killed them!”
“But she didn’t stop you, did she?”
Five struggles to control his rage. The knife is sharp and black underneath your jaw, ready to draw blood at a moment’s notice.
You inhale shallowly. “Lila,” you rasp.
“Don’t speak.”
“Look,” Five forces out as evenly as he can, catching the woman’s attention again. He can’t take his eyes off that goddamn knife. Five can almost feel the edge cutting into his own skin. “You wanna blame someone, blame the Handler, alright? She faked the kill order.”
“Bullshit! I saw the kill order. AJ Carmichael ordered it, and you and [Y/n] carried it out.”
“Lila, listen to what I’m telling you, alright? The Handler gave us the kill order. She came on the job, which she’d never done before.” He unclenches his fists with unwilling, trembling fingers. His mind is reeling. “You’re Commission. You know execs never go on jobs, but that day in London, she was there. Ask yourself why –”
“Stop trying to muddy the waters.”
Five swallows, pulse racing. He rips his eyes away from your neck to gauge Lila’s expression. Doubt is beginning to bleed into it, and he manages to keep his tone level.
Focus on completing the picture. No sudden movements.
“Think about it, Lila. It all makes sense.”
Lila’s grip on the knife relaxes by the smallest amount. She hesitates for a moment before speaking. “What?”
“She never cared about your parents. She was looking for you.”
What little is left of her anger melts off Lila’s face. For the first time, the girl looks completely vulnerable. And it’s not a farce.
“Why?” she whispers.
Come on …
“‘Cause you’re one of us.”
Lila whips her head around when Diego cuts through the silence, holding you even more tightly against herself. Five’s gaze snaps back to the knife again and he swears internally.
Dammit, Diego, you better have a plan!
“The Handler stole you, Lila. Just like our asshole father took all of us,” his brother explains carefully.
“No. It’s not the same thing.”
“You’re right. Because he didn’t have our parents murdered.” Diego approaches her, staying low to the ground, hands outstretched. “Listen to me, Lila. You were born October 1, 1989, the same day as all of us.”
The rest of his siblings close in on Lila, slowly, warily. The movement sends her into a panic, and she cuts a little into your neck. You let out half of a gasp and swallow the rest of it, but it’s enough.
Five sees red.
“Get your fucking hands off her!”
“STAY BACK!”
“Five! Back off!” Diego shouts. Chest heaving and blood roaring in his ears, Five looks at him and then at your sweaty, frozen face – and against every fiber of his being, he listens and backs off, glaring venomously as his brother then turns to Lila again. “Lila? Lila, stop. Let her go.”
She turns her head from side to side, knuckles white as she keeps the knife against your throat. “No,” she chokes. “Diego, you don’t understand. They killed my parents. They took my life away from me.”
Five seethes. “For the last time, it was nothing personal –"
“And it was wrong. I know.” Diego’s eyes flit to Five’s, silently reprimanding. “You want to make them pay for what they did. But killing [Y/n]’s not gonna bring your parents back. You know that.”
“It’s not about bringing them back.”
He nods once, softly. “You’re right. It’s about justice. Honoring their memory.” Diego’s voice is gentle. “Trust me, Lila, I get it. I lost someone to the Commission too. She wasn’t family, but she was my friend, and I cared about her. She wasn’t supposed to die. She didn’t deserve to die. But she did.”
As Diego continues talking, Five keeps his guard up on the other side, watching and waiting for a contraction of a muscle, a single forewarning of violence. If another drop of your blood stains that blade, shit, he’ll kill the woman with his own two hands, Diego’s feelings be damned.
Tightening his jaw, Five shifts on his feet as he looks at you. You stare back with calm eyes – just like that night in the alley, but this time, with no signal for him to make a move.
Goddammit, they should’ve gotten you to safety by now!
“… Just think about whether taking another life would honor their memory. [Y/n] deserves a chance to start over, live a peaceful life with people she cares about. And so do you.”
Lila’s trembling. Yet, she refuses to budge. “If it weren’t for her and Five,” she whispers, “I wouldn’t need that second chance. I would have been all alone if Mum hadn’t found me that night.”
“But there’s a reason she found you. She’s using you, Lila. The Handler.”
“You’re wrong. She raised me.” Lila pauses, then asserts, “She loves me.”
“She’s dangerous,” Diego emphasizes. “And you’re scared of what she’ll do with all that new power. That’s why you dragged me to the Commission. Because I know what it’s like to love dangerous people.”
—
“Oh, my.” The Handler puts a hand on his shoulder, hovering behind him. “One hundred and forty-three kills on the simulation? That’s a new record. Very, very good, Five.”
Five bristles at her closeness, but he doesn’t move away, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of unnerving him. “Thanks,” he says tersely.
“Tell me, Five. From what I’ve seen during your training, you’d be a lot more efficient in the field if you were a one-man team. Working alone is when you work best.”
“I’m partnering up with [Y/n].”
“And you’ve filled out the paperwork and everything, I know. I know. But I implore you to think about it logically,” the Handler tells him, leading him down the hallway. “[Y/n] has highly marked assessments, but frankly, they’re nowhere near your level.” She raises her eyebrows at him and blows out a stream of smoke. “Forgive me for assuming, but perhaps this is less about a partnership that would benefit the Commission and more about your personal … relationship.”
Five smiles thinly at her. “With all due respect, we’ve worked together for years. Almost forty years, in fact. I can assure you that our partnership will deliver more than satisfactory results.”
The woman just hums serenely, eyebrows still raised and cigarette holder between her lips as he faces her. Behind her, he sees you approaching.
“Excuse me,” he says politely.
As he sidesteps the Handler to meet you halfway, your shared employer calls out to him, voice ringing through the sparse crowd of Commission drones. “You’re a dangerous man, Five,” she drawls, “and this is a dangerous job. If you want to protect someone, we won’t stop you, but don’t let it endanger this opportunity we’ve so generously provided. To the both of you.”
“Duly noted,” Five replies over his shoulder, walking away with you. He can hear the Handler’s heels click against the floor as she goes on her way as well.
“She’s suspicious about us partnering up, isn’t she?” you ask him lowly.
He frowns. “I would be too if I were her. But we have to stay together.”
“Well.” You reach up to adjust his hat, tilting it slightly. “In any case, I’m pulling my own weight in the field. Just like in the apocalypse. No one-sided protection.”
“[Y/n], this is different from the apocalypse. We’re not dealing with food shortages or bad weather – we’re dealing with people.”
“All the more reason for you to trust me.” Despite your usual controlled tone and mien, he sees the way that your eyes glint. “I’m kinda dangerous myself, Five. Especially for the people I love, and I’ve been in love with you for years.”
Five sighs.
“You’re so sappy, you know that?”
(Nevertheless, he finds himself mumbling those four words, just loud enough for only you to hear.)
—
“Difference is …” Diego glances around at their siblings, then looks down, “they love me back.”
“Shut up.”
“The only thing she loves is power. Now, the minute she can’t use you, she will turn on you, and deep down, I know you know that.”
She tilts the knife against your neck. Five sucks in a breath, his heart pounding.
“You don’t know me, Diego.” Lila’s voice is hoarse.
Diego steps closer. He lifts a hand to cover hers over the knife.
“Don’t I?” he whispers. “I know that we can be your family. If you just let us.”
Lila’s eyes are glossy with unshed tears. Hesitantly, she turns her head to look around at his family, and in that moment, Five has a cautious inkling that Diego’s words actually got through to her. She doesn’t resist when Diego pulls her hand gently.
When she releases you, he almost feels weak with relief.
Five murmurs your name as you stagger over to him; you grab his arms, and he raises his hands to hold your face between them.
“Shit,” he breathes, “[Y/n] –”
“I’m okay,” he hears you say, but his ears are ringing and your skin is cold and shit, your neck – delicately, Five tilts your head back, and you attempt to brush his hands away. “Five, it’s – it’s just a scratch …”
His fingers brush against a wetness on your skin. You wince, almost imperceptibly. He draws back to look at his hand, and when he sees the blood on his fingertips, your blood, the wave of relief crashing onto him abruptly morphs back into rage.
Before you can pull him back, Five lunges at Lila.
Gunshots echo throughout the barn.
—
You’re smiling.
—
He wakes up, gasping for breath.
“Oh, good! You’re still alive,” the Handler says, looming over him. Her lipstick is bright red through the dizzying blurs. “Lucky you. You got to see how this all played out.”
Grappling for air, Five tries to speak – tries to give one last word, to finally tell the damned snake to fuck off as he stares into the barrel of her automatic. But it hurts to breathe and he can’t. Fuck, it hurts. It hurts. His tongue feels like lead and his throat is closed up. All he can do is look.
But before she can pull the trigger, he hears gunfire.
Bullets rend flesh that isn’t his. Five’s eyes widen, stunned; the Handler gasps sharply. She turns. More gunfire.
She falls.
Shit, that could only mean.… Five struggles to lift his head, almost blacking out from the pain as the gunman approaches, crushing straw underfoot. A shadow falls over him.
The Swede silently tilts his gun down at his face, and he realizes: they are both the last ones. Everyone else is dead. The Swede’s brothers. The Handler. Lila. His siblings. You.
This is the end.
(This doesn’t have to be the end.)
… Five blinks, numb.
(You’re the one who got us stuck here.)
Unless …
(Seconds. Not decades.)
Seconds.
His lungs burn. Hope blooms in his chest.
(C’mon, Five.)
Concentrate. Hands clenching sluggishly, Five focuses on gaining back the feeling in them. Seconds, not decades. A familiar, electric buzz thrums through his bones, warm, crackling with energy. His hands begin to glow. Blue envelops them like they had so many times before.
It happens slowly, time reversing itself like molasses oozing back into a jar. The Swede lowers his arm and retreats. Bodies begin to rise. Five feels himself getting pushed up, and his feet touch the ground; he presses forward, running, refusing to look back. The sharp pains recede to a singular ache.
Seconds.
Seconds.
He breaks through behind the barn door with a gasp. Air fills his chest, full and crisp.
Immediately, Five looks back at you and everyone else, standing and breathing, and pats himself just to make sure.
Holy shit.
Spotting movement outside, Five leaps at the Handler just as she walks in, seizing her weapon and turning it on her. His finger curls at the trigger. She raises her hands in surrender, lips pursed.
Got you, you son of a bitch.
“It’s true, isn’t it? What Five said,” he hears Lila ask. He doesn’t dare look away from her mother, meeting her poisonous glare with an equally cold one. “Answer me! Is it true?”
The Handler takes in a breath. “Well –”
Before she can finish her sentence, blood sprays out from her chest. She collapses. Dead.
The Swede. Five stares at her body, gun lowering. There’s a pregnant pause, void of any air – and then in his periphery, Lila shoots forward.
Luther charges after her. “The case!”
“No!”
Diego tackles him to the ground. Lila disappears in a flash of blue.
One dead, one missing. Neither of which are you or his siblings. There might be hope for them yet. Rolling his shoulders, Five turns his attention to the rogue assassin, cocking his gun and pointing it at him. The Swede reciprocates.
Nobody utters a word, for fear that it may be their last. But as Five feels the weight of the automatic in his arms, he wonders, suddenly, just how much he has in common with this man. A forgotten humanity. The death of their families. The force of a person with nothing to lose.
Except in the Swede’s case, he has no chance of gaining back what he had lost.
This is the end.
Five takes his finger off the trigger, then after a brief hesitation, lets go of the gun.
“Enough,” he says.
Nothing happens at first. The only sign that the man heard him is how he looks away from Five, surveying the rest of the barn’s occupants.
Five returns his gaze firmly, muscles tense, when he meets it again. The Swede regards him for another moment, then finally speaks.
“Inte mer.”
He drops his weapon. No more killing.
—
After Vanya helps the kid and calms him down, she goes with him and Sissy to help them pack up. Everyone else exits the barn as well to rest up and say their goodbyes before leaving, save for Diego, who talks to Herb and Dot with you and Five before joining the rest of the group at the house.
As soon as everything seems like it’s on track, Five brings you straight to the bathroom before you can protest.
“Five, it’s just a scratch.”
“That’s what you said last time.”
In a familiar turn of events, you’re sitting on the edge of the bathtub, sulking as he cleans the rest of the dried blood from your neck. Five scowls as he inspects the thin, rough scab underneath your jaw. For shit’s sake, it’s more than a ‘scratch’ – but at the very least, the cut wasn’t deep enough to cause too much bleeding.
Obviously, he’d have preferred it if you hadn’t gotten cut at all.
“She could’ve killed you.”
“I know,” you murmur. He glares at you softly, and you reach over to hold his hand. “Sorry for worrying you.”
Five scoffs, shaking his head. “Worrying me? I was damn well past worrying when she –” At that moment, he makes the mistake of seeing the guilt in your eyes, and he sighs. “What the hell were you thinking?”
You shrug quietly as he opens a large Band-Aid. “That I had to do something to keep you safe.”
“At your expense?”
Your miniscule smile changes into a grimace for a split second when he sticks the bandage on, but it returns immediately after. “You would’ve done the same thing, Five.”
All he can retort with is a displeased huff.
Silently, you stand up and turn him around, urging him to sit down this time as you pluck another hand towel from the stack that Vanya had given the two of you. Five sits still, mouth shut and eyes watching, as you start cleaning his face. Your expression is tender. A familiar feeling wells up inside of him.
Suddenly, you chuckle.
“What?”
“It’s just – if I didn’t know any better,” you say, scrubbing at a particularly grimy spot on his cheek, “I’d think that you were a schoolboy that just got into a fight and lost.”
He rolls his eyes. “Well, good thing that you do know better, because I obviously would’ve won.”
“Obviously.” Your eyes glint, like they have so many times before.
—
“How bad does it hurt?”
Your hand is soft in his as he glances at his wrist, propped up on a stack of books, then into the small fire burning a few feet away. “Not that much,” he answers. “Thanks for splinting it.”
“Thanks for talking me through it.” You breathe in, head on his shoulder, testing the words on your tongue before you continue. “I was worried. I’m glad it’s feeling better.”
A wrist sprain is nothing to write home about, figuratively speaking. It’s more of an inconvenience than an actual concern; Five figures that the injury will heal in a week, a week and a half at the most. Frankly, he’s more concerned about how much longer it’ll take to complete daily tasks in the meantime.
… You, on the other hand – well, he wonders if you’ve ever gotten anything more than a few cuts and scrapes growing up. The closest he had ever seen you get to panicking was after he fell today, and you’ve been wandering around with him for years.
In a strange way, Five thinks, he was glad for it. He is glad for you. Glad for your presence, your level head. He is glad for the way you hold his hand and talk to him during the day and after dark. And he is glad, secretly, that you want to protect him just like he wants to protect you.
“I love you.”
The words slip out, rough and unbidden.
Five holds his breath when they echo in his ears. You stop tapping your fingers over his skin. Perhaps that’s a bad thing. It was not a mistake, of course, and he isn’t going to take it back, but if that wasn’t what you were saying this whole time – shit. He lets go of your hand, his throat scratchy and strangely closed up.
But then – your fingertips brush his face. He swallows.
“I love you too.”
#cliché tropes and prompts#source: bucky-plums-barnes#five hargreeves#five hargreeves x reader#five hargreeves imagine#the umbrella academy five#the umbrella academy#tua#five x reader#five imagine#tua fanfic#fanfic#reader insert#fluff#angst#tua s2 spoilers#tw violence#flashbacksssssss#yeah boi#i am conflicted abt the ending asdfhgjasdlkf; sorry for the weird close :(#five x fem!reader#fem!reader
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Mosquito Huntress (Chocobros x f!Reader
I hate mosquitos, you hate mosquitos, we all hate mosquitos. This drabble is dedicated to the hundreds of mosquitos that died on my Korean dorm room wall at the hand of my left Adidas sandal :3.
Noct’s was inspired by true events.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
↞Noctis↠
It was the most horrendous sound. A sickeningly high pitched buzzing that vibrated among your ears at a rapid frequency. It pierced the veil of your dream and forcefully drop kicked you back into the waking world with a start. Just as you regained consciousness an electric clap in the darkness caused you to jolt, almost kicking the sleeping bag off your form. A shadow blocked out the dim moonlight that filtered through the ceiling of the tent.
Noctis’ eyes glowed like sapphires and shown with such an iridescence that meant he had just conjured up magic. Indeed, the clasped hands that were held a few inches above your head emitted a faint blue hue.
“Noct, what are you doing?” You drawled, the close proximity of the light within his palms to your face caused your eyes to squint in irritation.
“I got it.” He whispered victoriously, blinking a couple times in anticipation of your reaction.
“Got what?” You asked just as a large yawn engulfed you.
“The mosquito.” He grinned, shuffling to the door to the tent. He unzipped the zipper just enough for him to wiggle his hand outside, discarding the evil bug. Before you could speak up, Gladiolus’ violent snore ripped through the silence of the night from the far side of the tent. Prompto sleep-kicked the man in the stomach, offering a brief moment of tranquility before the disturbance would inevitably make a comeback.
“Did it die a painful death?” Your voice was devoid of sympathy and the seriousness on your face made Noctis chuckle as he sat cross legged next to you.
“I zapped it before it could land on your face. It died a quick death, sadly.” He stated in a hushed tone, gently brushing flyaway hairs from your forehead.
“What a shame. Still, well done.” You praised, reaching up to give his cheek a few lazy pats. He leaned into your touch, so much so that your drowsy limb flopped down onto the ground.
“What were you dreaming about?” He inquired softly. He was uncharacteristically chatty at this time of night for a boy who needed at least two naps daily.
“I was being serenaded by a beautiful man.” You grumbled. You were still peeved you were abruptly whisked away from the gentle, moonlit guitar strums and the man’s ethereal voice.
“As beautiful as in real life?” Noctis mused his lips curling into a smug smile. Your eyebrows knit in confusion.
“The man from my dream is real?” Your fatigued features contorted as your half asleep brain actually contemplated being able to manifest dreams into reality.
Noctis scooted so close to you that his leg was bushing against your side. He leaned down and stopped when his face was centimeters from your own, whips of his hair feathering your cheeks.
“He’s right here.” Noct stated lowly, his tone as smooth as the sea that resided within his eyes. Their serene waves were beginning to lull you to sleep.
“No he's not. Ignis is on the other side of the tent.” You replied cheekily, now unable to keep your eyelids from falling. Before Noctis could respond you tugged on the fabric of his tee shirt and dragged him back down into the sleeping bag. You may have been exhausted but you always had enough energy to tease your prince.
↞Prompto↠
It was hot. Painfully hot. The kind of hot that once the humid air left a wet kiss on your exposed skin it clung to your form and every surface in the sun-exposed living room. The heat was slowly sizzling you alive and you were beginning to feel like a shrimp in a hot pot. A blonde shrimp was nestled atop of you, pressing your clammy body further into the plush sofa. His gentle puffs of steamy breath seared your neck and his limbs encircled you, involuntarily incubating you. The electric chattering of the fan and the low hum of the unattended television masked the otherwise curdled silence of the room.
Slowly rising from your slumber just as the sun was rising in the morning sky, you became fully aware of just how sweltering you were. And no matter how much you loved cuddling with your sunshine, he needed to get off of you otherwise you would dissolve into a pool of sweat. Wiggling around under him, you groaned when he clasped onto you tighter, burying his face further into the crook of your neck. You gave an exasperated sigh and now felt even stickier than before. You began to push him off once more, this time a bit more forcefully, when you saw it. The unwanted visitor stood out against the pale skin of his back like Gladiolus at your high school dances.
So you did the only thing you could do to ensure it wouldn’t escape. You smacked his back. Hard . The clap of skin on skin resounded through the apartment and caused a few pigeons to anxiously fly off their perch outside of the windowsill. The rapid flapping of wings was immediately followed by Prompto’s squirrel like squeak.
“WHAT’S WRONG?” His voice ascended to octaves that seemed impossible to reach. He was now very awake, disoriented, and in pain. He shot up to straddle you, sinking back onto your hips and reaching up to clutch the point of impact. There was a deep red mark already blossoming on his shoulder blade. Your eyes held pity until you saw the tiny daemon dust the skin of his upper arm.
“PROMPTO ITS ON YOUR ARM!” Your manic tone only skyrocketed Prompto’s anxiety. He recoiled when you leaned over to deliver another powerful hit. The poor boy was trying to grasp if he was still asleep and experiencing a nightmare.
“WHAT ARE WE AFRAID OF AND WHY DO YOU KEEP TRYING TO HIT ME?” He exclaimed on the verge of tears.
“MOSQUITO!” You rapidly pointed to just below the sleeve of his tank top, the dark spot illuminated by the warm bands of sunlight. Prompto let out a sound resembling a duck being squeezed.
“WHY DIDN’T YOU WARN ME SOONER?” His limbs were in a jelly-like frenzy as they slapped every exposed surface on his body. In the fray, it had strategically darted away from the hurricane of body parts but made its appearance once again when the storm had calmed.
“IT’S ON YOU NOW!” Prompto wailed, causing your eyes to grow wide.
“WELL THEN GET IT OFF ITS GOING TO SUCK MY BLOOD!”
“I DON'T WANT TO HIT YOU.” He whined, shifting apprehensively in his seat. He brought his hand inches from where the mosquito rested on your clavicle but hesitated before the glistening skin.
“I HIT YOU BEFORE ITS OKAY, IT EVENS OUT!” You encouraged, scooching closer to him so your knees touched. You craned your neck to give him a larger area to work with.
Reluctantly, Prompto’s palm came into contact with your collarbone a little too gently. You shot him an amused smirk.
“That was weak.” You said. He rolled his eye and when he removed his hand, the mosquito had been vanquished. You both exhaled a steamy sigh of relief.
Suddenly there was a brisk knocking at your door. After exchanging wide eyes, Prompto padded to the entryway. Before opening it, he discarded the carcass into the trash bin and gave his hands a few thorough wipes against his sweatpants.
A very tiny, unamused woman was standing in the hall. A lit cigarette hung lax from her right hand while the other rested on her hip. He blinked a couple times, unsure of what to say.
“Do I need to call the police or is yelling ‘It’s okay, hit me’ a kink of yall’s?” She said as more of a statement than a question, her voice gravelly. When she exhaled, a large puff of smoke blew into Prompto’s now reddened face. He tried to dodge it unsuccessfully and coughed before explaining.
“Uh, no, to both. We’re fine. We were just-” Prompto started, struggling to battle the creeping mortification brought on by the woman’s assumption. She abruptly held up her hand, cigarette dangerously close to Prompto’s mussed bangs, and turned to walk back to her apartment.
“I don’t need a detailed description of what you like to do in bed. Just keep it down.” She imparted, her voice cracking like and unpaved road, leaving Prompto a sputtering mess.
A week later, the whole floor of the apartment complex was convinced you and Prompto had an affinity for bug and bug killer role play. It would take you several months to live this down.
↞Ignis↠
“Darling come to bed.” Ignis’ command was more of a sweet invite than an instruction as he was far too drained for anything else. It had been a longer day than usual at the Citadel and all poor Ignis wanted to do was feel the sweet embrace of sleep.
“No.” You retorted stubbornly, not wavering from your defensive post next to the bookshelf. There was no way you would be able to go to bed with that thing watching you, waiting until the vulnerability of sleep overtook you so it could feast upon your blood.
“Please.” He pleaded, his level tone turning into a slight whine by the end. This was the seventeenth time he had asked you. Yes, Ignis was keeping count.
“No, not until it tastes my blade.” You spat, eyes narrowing as you tried to focus in on the tiny intruder’s location.
“You are unarmed my dear.” Ignis’ lips curled into a smile. He discarded his book on his lap and resigned to watching your antics. If he couldn’t stop you, he might as well enjoy the scene before him.
“My hands are my blade.” Your statement was quickly drowned out by a yelp as the mosquito fluttered off the wall. Your body contorted in ways Ignis never knew it could to avoid any possible contact with the creature as it floated a little too close for your liking.
Ignis snorted at your response, lightly biting his bottom lip to swallow a chuckle. You looked more focused on killing this spec of dust than you did hunting a coeurl. No matter how silly the situation was, the glint of determination in your eye and over exaggerated reactions had Ignis regarding you with adoration. He adjusted his position against the headboard, satin sheets pooling softly downward to reveal his bare chest. His hair was still damp and mussed from his shower and thin frames laid low on the bridge of his nose. If you weren’t so preoccupied by the mosquito you surely would have been more than distracted by his appearance.
You circled the room and randomly hit any surface that harbored any substance that vaguely resembled a mosquito. When you accidentally slapped your thigh instead of the side of the wardrobe Ingis’ melodic laugh broke the tense air. You shot him a glare that could melt ice and stuck out your tongue.
Just as he was going to coerce with you once again, the small creature buzzed just under the rim of his glasses. He silently followed the bug with his eyes until it landed on the nightstand next to the bed.
“It’s over here.” Ignis gave you the tip, gesturing to the tiny dot resting on the mahogany.
“Smack it!” You screeched, excitement flooding your veins at the proposition of a peaceful night’s sleep.
“No.” Ignis said smoothly. He was always one to push your buttons. Even though he could end this ridiculous hunt with a single swipe of his palm, he felt teasing was a much more entertaining option. You gasped at his betrayal.
“You’re the one who wants it dead, not me.” Ignis responded innocently, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Come on, the minute its dead I’ll come to bed.” You pouted, attempting to bribe him with cuteness. Ignis shook his head and pursed his lips. It took everything in him not to start laughing again.
“But I’m so comfortable.” He dragged out each syllable, flopping down and spreading out so he took up the entire surface of the bed. His eyes resembled the greenery of rolling hills against the horizon as they regarded you from under his eyelashes. They almost made you forget about the task at hand. Letting out an annoyed whine, you turned your attention once again to your prey.
You thanked your crownsguard training for the lightness of your feet as they padded silently against the wood floorboards until you were within smacking distance. The moment your hand met the nightstand with a satisfying crack, a triumphant smile spread across your face. There was no way it could have survived that hit.
“I take that as a fresh kill?” Ignis questioned and propped himself up on his elbow.
“Yes, add another to my kill count.” You turned towards him, still beaming, and held up your palm to show him the bounty of your hunt. You playfully shoved your hand near his face, giggling when he struggled to push you away. He laughed, grimacing when it got a little too close to his cheek.
“Lovely, darling. Now go wash your hand and let's go to bed.”
↞Gladiolus↠
The air conditioning revved to life with three crisp clicks once your sweaty fingers tiredly turned the dial to the max setting. Your corner of the vast training room was now gradually flooding with a frosty breeze that prickled your clammy skin with delightful icicles. A satisfied sigh left your parted lips, thankful to be relieved from the stickiness of hand to hand combat. Your butt was practically glued to the bench as you let the polar vortex cool you down. The grunts of other training Crownsguard members and the slams of bodies hitting the padded mats were muffled by the pulsing in your ears as you gingerly patted the sweat from your neck and face with a towel.
A few paces from you Prompto laid sprawled out on the floor, his chest heaving with heavy breaths.
“Don’t get moody, Prompto. She manages to overpower me half the time too.” Gladiolus nudged the deflated blonde with the toe of his boot and flashed you a cheeky grin.
“I know, I know. But the only one I’m ever able to take down besides the new trainees is Noct.” Prompto sighed dramatically.
“Well, that’s not a challenge at all.” Gladiolus snorted and passed you a water bottle, the condensation feeling lovely against your clammy palms.
“He might be easy, but he cheats by warping.” You added, rising from your seat to stand directly in front of the air con. The rush of cool wind felt heavenly on your back.
“Exactly.” There was no emotion in Prompto’s voice. He turned his head agonizingly slowly to look at you, gaze empty. You choked on your mouthful of water at his melodrama.
After taking a few generous swigs from his own water bottle, Gladiolus sauntered over towards you. Rather than standing next to you, like you expected, he grabbed your arms and moved to stand behind you. The action stole the euphoria of the synthetic wind and you whined in protest. He stretched his arms out on your shoulders and rested his chin atop your head.
“Well lately the only one who’s been kicking my ass is Iris. Besides the Marshall, of course.” You coughed as you wiped the droplets of water from your chin with the back of your hand. A giggle bubbled from your chest when you felt Gladiolus tense.
“Oh yeah, she’s getting good. It took her even less time to take the big guy down last week.” Prompto chuckled, vitality slowly flooding back into his system. Gladiolus visibly shuddered and released you from his hold to walk back over to the mat.
“She’s getting too good.” He mumbled as he rolled his shoulders.
“You wanna fight her next time instead of me, Prom?” You suggested jokingly. Gladiolus snickered, making Prompto faintly kick in Gladio’s general direction.
“No thank you. I’ll stick to the 15 year olds and Noctis.” He huffed as he pulled himself off the ground. His movements were like a piece of tape being tugged off of the floor painstakingly slowly. Once Prompto had vacated the training space, Gladiolus threw you a playful grin. He got into a fighting stance, his knees bent and arms angled for combat.
“Ready for our spar, baby?”
"Wait." You stated, attention on the corner of the air conditioner. Gladiolus squinted in the direction of your gaze.
"I will NOT train with this uninvited guest watching me." You declared, slowly rounding the corner of the machine. Prompto let out a quiet huh while Gladiolus shook his head.
“She really hates mosquitoes, doesn’t she?” Prompto asked rhetorically, fanning the sweat from his face with his hands. Gladiolus smiled fondly when you untied your shoe and attempted to use it as a killing device.
"Mhm. Honestly, I think her determination is pretty adorable." Gladiolus responded, not taking his eyes off you.
"Gladdy-" You whined when your target flew too high for your hands to reach. “I need your help.”
You beckoned him over with haste and he padded over with an amused glint in his eyes.
"Give me a boost, it's too high for me to reach." You tapped his shoulders and gestured for him to get down.
“What do I get in return?” He asked rather innocently. Your eyebrows shot up, expecting something more suggestive.
“I’ll treat you and Prompto to ramen when we’re done here.” You proposed, holding the shoe at eye level.
“Hell yeah!” Prompto cheered from the towel rack.
“Done.” Gladio hummed in excitement and knelt down so you could climb onto his shoulders. Gladio maneuvered you as close to the metal box as he could without ramming your knees into the side. You smacked the top hard with the sole of your shoe and turned it over for inspection.
“Hah! Die, bitch.” You roared happily, pressing a triumphant kiss to the top of his head. He squeezed your thighs in return and lowered you to the ground.
“My little mosquito hunter.” He cooed, smushing your cheeks together. “Now come on, let’s get this spar over with so I can get some free ramen.”
"Fine, but if I win Prompto has to fight Iris next week." You smirked.
“Sounds like a deal.” He agreed, winking at you as he got into position.
“This isn’t consensual!” Prompto’s protests were quickly forgotten in the throws of combat.
#ffxv#ffxv gladiolus#ffxv noctis#ffxv prompto#ffxv ignis#chocobros#chocobros x reader#Noctis Lucis Caelum#noctis x reader#gladiolus amicitia#gladiolus x reader#prompto argentum#prompto x reader#ignis scientia#ignis x reader#final fantasy xv#final fantasy fanfiction#ffxv fanfiction#ffxv imagines#fanfiction
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All That Was Fair
Chapter 14: Unexpected Visitors
Summary: Visitors disrupt the Fraser household.
Read on AO3
Read chapter 14 on tumblr below the cut
Previous, master list, next
Chapter 14: Unexpected Visitors
***
The next morning, Claire’s perfect tranquility was interrupted by a terrifying brring-brong.
She jerked wildly around from her place on the “couch”, her heart racing in her chest, before she remembered the last time she’d heard that sound and Jamie had explained that it simply indicated there was someone outside. With cautious steps, she made her way toward the door and pressed her ear against it, listening. No sound of anything threatening at least. But also no sign of Jamie— who was upstairs in the shower.
Claire remembered the other day when there had been a man with something to give Jamie. It was probably that again, and if it was something important, she didn’t want him to miss it.
Fumbling the odd shaped thing that opened the door, she tugged at it, but it wouldn’t budge. Then she spotted the problem and freed the sliding bit. After struggling with the oddities humans had for securing their place, Claire finally managed to free the door and it swung open.
She was greeted by blue eyes— Jamie’s eyes— staring at her in astonishment. His sister. Claire had only gotten a glimpse of her the other day but there was no mistaking the fierce dark-haired woman that shared many features with her Jamie.
“Who are you, then?” Jenny demanded.
Claire was momentarily struck dumb. Thoughts of the last conversation— or rather, confrontation— that Jenny had with Jamie whirled in her head and made her feel dizzy. He hadn’t wanted his sister to know about her. But obviously that stone had been turned over, because here she stood in front of the woman, mute and motionless. She wished she could just disappear.
This whole being-seen-by-humans thing had its drawbacks.
“Cat got yer tongue? Answer me! Who are ye, and what are ye doin’ answerin’ my brother’s door?”
The expression Jenny was wearing could safely be classified as accusatory. Her eyes were narrowed, hands rested on her hips. Claire had to take a gulp of air.
“Cat…?” Claire echoed. She glanced behind her to where Adso the cat was basking in the morning light— who very clearly did not have her tongue. Bewildered, she placed a hand to her mouth and shook her head, brows furrowed.
She knew Jenny had said more after that strange human expression, but Claire was buzzing with anxiety so strongly that she couldn’t quite seem to remember.
“Who are ye?” Jenny demanded, more slowly this time, clearly agitated by Claire’s befuddlement.
A swallow. “Claire,” she managed, but she was unequal to the task of providing her with any more information.
Where was Jamie?
All of a sudden, Jenny shouldered her way past Claire and inside unceremoniously. It was only then that Claire realized a man was standing behind her. Ian, she surmised, based on what Jamie had told her after the last visit. He walked closer a few steps and held out his hand, saying in a pleasant tone, “I’m Ian. Nice tae meet ya.”
Claire had no idea what to do with the proffered hand. She wasn’t inclined to touch strange humans and took a hesitant step back with her gaze fixed on it. She glanced back up at Ian and helplessly offered, “I’m Claire.”
He gave her an odd look and then slowly lowered the hand.
“Nice tae meet ye, Claire. Ye’ll have tae excuse my wife, she doesna seem to have any manners when it comes tae her brother.”
Claire gave a shaky nod, unsure how exactly to proceed, and then simply stepped aside to allow Ian past her.
Jenny was waiting for them, hands on her hips.
“So I suppose ye’re the trollop then? The one from the fittin’ room? Ye’re the reason he’s been missin’ all this work?”
Claire shot a glance over her shoulder, hoping beyond hope that Jamie would choose this moment to appear. But no one came to her aid, and Jenny was inclined to continue.
“Well…” Claire wasn’t sure what a trollop was, but she understood the last part well enough, “I suppose. But-”
“-I kent my brother was a fool, but to bring his little play thing into his home…”
“Dinna speak of her that way,” came a low, menacing voice.
Claire felt a wash of relief as Jamie appeared across the room behind his sister, already glaring daggers and squaring up for a fight.
“Jamie!” Jenny exclaimed, whirling around to face him, “What are ye thinkin’? Do ye even ken this lass?”
Jenny seemed to grow red, and— sensing the burgeoning conflict— Claire needed a retreat. She inched her way across the room warily, slipping around Jenny, and then pressed herself to Jamie’s side. He was also thrumming with tension, his gaze never leaving his sister and his full height utilized, but as Claire slipped her hand into his, he seemed to calm a bit. The red energy around him began to ease in the slightest.
“Aye, I ken Claire. And if ye didna come in here rarin’ for a fight, maybe ye could get tae know her too,” he said evenly.
Claire wasn’t sure she was quite inclined to get to know this aggressive woman. Jenny was still bristling, occasionally shooting her a dark-eyed glance. Still, anything that was important to Jamie was important to Claire, and he’d told her how much he loved his sister and her family. She resolved to give this woman a chance, but she still wouldn’t make a move away from Jamie. His hand was warm and solid around hers, and it calmed her spirit.
“Aye,” Jenny acquiesced after a tense silence, throwing her hands up, “explain yerself then.”
No one made any move for a long second.
“What would ye like to ken?” Jamie asked, and Claire could tell he was trying to keep his voice even and light despite the obvious frustration humming through him.
“What is she to you?” Jenny demanded.
Jamie floundered at this. His face went red, and he glanced toward Claire, back at Jenny, then to the ground. “She’s…” he started as he looked toward Claire again, but he obviously wasn’t sure how exactly to explain the relationship.
“He’s mine,” Claire stated simply to save him the trouble.
Because how else could it be explained better than that?
Jamie’s face went impossibly redder, and his sister’s mouth fell open. Jenny glanced toward Ian, and Claire felt like she was caught in the middle of a spider’s web of gazes. What was with these people and their non-verbal communication? Just say something already!
“Well then, I’d better sit down,” Jenny said begrudgingly.
She promptly sat down on the couch, and Ian followed, sitting down next to her. Jamie, in turn, walked over to the chair across from them. Claire trailed after him before setting herself straight down on his lap.
Jamie jerked in surprise as she situated herself as always, twining her arms around his neck and curling up. She saw as his eyes went wide and the tips of his ears (having only just now faded from her last words) flared deep red again. She liked his blush ever-so much but wasn’t sure exactly why he was reacting this way. She’d sat with him plenty of times like this.
“Maybe find yer own chair for now, lass?” Jamie whispered into her ear.
She felt confusion and something like disappointment rise up in her. Jamie was hers, and she didn’t understand why he was embarrassed. But she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, so she quickly slipped off his lap. Grabbing a nearby chair, she couldn’t resist the urge to scoot it closer to Jamie’s. She needed him within arm’s reach. Finally, all was settled, and the only thing left was to begin the conversation.
The air felt heavy around them, and Claire’s apprehension grew. There was a pressure on her shoulders— she realized. His family’s opinion meant everything to Jamie, and Claire was suddenly overwhelmed by the prospect that Jenny’s disapproval could drive them apart.
Needing the reassurance of his touch, she reached out and took ahold of Jamie’s hand.
***
When Jamie had come down the stairs to find Jenny facing off with Claire (well, facing off wasna exactly the right term, because his puir faerie was practically trembling in the face of Jenny’s confrontation) and heard the things his sister was saying about her, irritation and something even deeper flared within him, and he quickly jumped to Claire’s defense.
But the lass certainly hadn’t made things easy. First she’d declared him to be “hers” to Jenny, proudly and possessively, and then she’d sat straight down on his lap— making his sister’s eyes bulge and mouth gape. Jamie loved Claire dearly but needed to keep the situation in hand, so he’d quickly shifted her off of him with only a slight twinge of regret.
Now, he sat with her hand in hand, ready for Jenny to launch in, as clearly his sister was ready to do. As much as he knew that holding Claire’s hand in front of Jenny would only increase his sister’s ire, he couldn’t dream of withholding that comfort from the faerie. Jenny had been studying their clasped hands for a long second, but then let out a sigh and turned to Claire.
“How do you two know each other?” she asked, the veil of politeness over her voice quite obviously a front.
Claire looked toward Jamie, looking unsure about what he would want her to say, and he hastily jumped in.
“I met Claire at university in Paris. We kept in touch, and she decided tae come for a visit. She got in on Saturday.”
Jenny and Ian nodded at this, and Jamie felt a sense of relief.
“And since I’m certain ye’ll ask… the airline lost all her luggage, which is why we were at Mrs. Fitz’s. And no, we werena doin’ anything, I was jes’ helping her do up a zipper.”
Jenny gave an eyeroll at this, but didn’t otherwise comment.
“And how is it that you have come to be spending the weekend in sin?” she accused bluntly.
“We’re no’ livin’ in sin, Janet,” Jamie sighed. His exasperation had almost exceeded tolerant levels.
“What about what ye said last time?”
“Last time I let ye believe that simply to make ye shut yer gab. I didna say I was sleepin’ wi’ her, because I am verra much no’. Claire is only stayin’ wi’ me.” Jamie was about a second and a half from kicking Jenny and Ian off of his property and not speaking to his loud-mouth, rude, intolerable sister for a good couple years until she’d learned some manners.
While all these thoughts were rolling around in Jamie’s head, Jenny was looking pointedly at their clasped hands, obviously not believing that they weren’t sleeping together.
“Well,” Ian jumped into the conversation before Jenny could make another ill-advised comment, “Claire. What is it ye do for a livin’ then?” he asked politely.
Claire’s eyes widened like a cornered fawn, the poor lass. She’d never heard that phrase before, let alone was she prepared to come up with an answer of a suitable profession. Jamie quickly jumped to her rescue.
“She’s a botanist,” he said as he gave her hand a squeeze. He could feel the flutter of her rapid heartbeat in her wrist and hoped the whole ordeal wasn’t too much for her. Stretching his thumb, he ran the tip gently over her pulse point in reassurance.
“Still tongue-tied, lassie?” Jenny asked with a hint of a sneer.
“Lay off, Janet,” he growled.
His sister raised her hands in exasperation. “The lass has said barely a word since we’ve arrived.” As if that explained why she was so hostile toward her.
“If ye continue to speak so disrespectfully I willna allow ye to stay in my home another minute,” Jamie said in a firm, severe voice.
“It’s alright, Jamie,” Claire broke in, giving his hand a squeeze. She turned toward Jenny and gave her one of her mega-watt smiles that made Jamie’s knees weak every time. Astonishingly, it did not have the same effect on Jenny. His sister just sat there, cold as ice, gaze locked on Claire’s, without giving a single inch. “I know I’ve been quiet. I’m just nervous about making a good impression on Jamie’s family. I know how much you mean to him.”
Jamie wanted to throw his arms around his clever lass. Never once had she been in a situation like this, and yet she was so quick on her feet to say the right thing in a tense situation.
Ian smiled at this, looking back and forth between him and Claire, obviously seeing the palpable connection between them.
Jenny, on the other hand, was not impressed.
“Ye shouldna worry about makin’ an impression, lass. Ye willna be around long,” she said dismissively, even going as far as to give a derogatory wave of the hand.
Jamie’s mouth fell open in incredulity. Jenny had been hostile before, downright rude, but this was on another level of animosity. He let go of Claire’s hand and stood with surprising force, scooting his chair back a couple centimeters with a loud skidding sound.
“This is you comin’ over tae apologize, Janet?” he roared, “No! I willna have it. Ye’ve said more than enough. Get out. Ye may return when I invite ye and no sooner, and that will only be when ye’ve managed to pull yerself together and apologize tae Claire.”
Jenny was standing now too. Instead of the deep red of shame that she should have been wearing, though, Jenny was just as riled up as he was.
Things were escalating far out of hand.
“Ye bring this lass intae yer life and disappear wi’ out a word, and ye jes’ expect me tae take it as if it’s the most normal thing?”
“Yes!” he exclaimed in exasperation, “that’s exactly what I expect ye tae do! I’m 29, Jenny, and ye’re actin’ like I’m some 12 year old who brought a girl home askin’ if she could spend the night. I make my own decisions!”
Jenny’s shoulders seemed to slump. Not in defeat, but in acceptance of the fact that Jamie would be doing whatever he wanted and she didn’t have the power to stop him.
And she said as much.
“Fine. Ruin yer life wi’ this trollop. I’ll see myself out. And dinna worry about me comin’ back uninvited, I’ll no’ be gracin’ yer stoop for a long while, that’s for certain.”
Poor Ian had been sitting motionless the whole time, gaping up at his wife in horror. He occasionally shot glances toward Jamie and behind him to Claire, but mostly Ian’s brain was churning with the conflict he was being dragged along with, forced to be on Jenny’s side. As the brazen besom turned toward the door, Ian rose from the couch. He looked helplessly at Jamie, his brown eyes wide with apology, and then followed after his wife. Jamie didn’t even make to shut the door, simply listened for it to bang close behind them.
The second they were gone, he turned to Claire, ready to face a teary-eyed faerie horrified by the vile that had just spewed from his sister, ready to offer comfort and apologies, but— to his surprise— he was met with completely calm honey eyes.
“Are you alright, Jamie?” she asked before he could. She reached out to run a soothing hand up his bicep.
“Am I alright? Christ! Are you alright? I’m sae sorry ye hadta endure that.”
“It’s not your fault, Jamie. She was being unfair to you,” she said softly.
Jamie shook his head back and forth, “she was bein’ unfair tae you! Listen to me, mo nighean donn. I’m sure she didna mean it. She’s angry and hurt because she thinks I’m keepin’ secrets, and she’s protective and brazen and rude. But I ken one day she’ll come around.”
Claire looked a little heartbroken then. “I’m not sure…”
Taking a step closer, he took her gently by the shoulders, his hands dwarfing the dainty curves of them. His voice lowered to a tone of incredibly gentleness, “are ye really alright, Sassenach?”
Her eyes lowered. “She just.. scared me,” she admitted with a shrug.
Jamie’s wame clenched. Jenny was making his worst fears come to fruition. He hated the thought that Claire felt she didn’t belong in this strange world, especially in his life (where he wanted her to stay forever), and here his sister was saying those things to her face. The puir lass was completely cut off from her home, and now even his own family was trying to drive her away from the one shred of security she had.
He could only imagine the homesickness she must have been feeling at that moment. The longing for the acceptance of her people— her family.
Unlike his, who was making her hate the human world.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed, “nothin’ she said was true. And I’m verra glad ye’re in my life, no matter what my pig-heided sister says.”
Claire was staring at him deeply, emotion reflected in her eyes. A mutual understanding passed between them, greater than any words.
Then, abruptly breaking the surreal moment, Claire asked, “what’s ‘pig-heided?” in a terrible mimicry of his accent.
Jamie burst out laughing, doubling over in half-surprise and half-mirth. A stitch quickly formed in his side as his air ran out. Tears were pricking at the corners of his eyes as he laughed, a release of all the pent up emotion.
“Have— do ye ken what a pig is, then?” he asked breathlessly, still heaving with laughter.
To his delight and relief, Claire was laughing softly along with him (or maybe at him) and didn’t take offense to his hilarity.
With a smile, she shook her head, answering helplessly, “no...” She let out a chuckle.
“It’s a fat animal that spends its days rollin’ in mud. I’ll show ye one sometime,” he explained, his hands still rested on his knees in his doubled over position.
Claire nodded in acceptance of his answer and reached out for him. Her wee hands slid down his forearms, raising goosebumps in their wake, until she grasped his hands and pulled him upright.
He wasn’t quite expecting this, and the force of her tug sent him up and stumbling into her.
Their bodies collided, and in an effort to keep her from going over, his hands grabbed her around the waist. He stomped his free foot down to regain balance and pulled her flush against him. He must have overcompensated, though, because they both went stumbling a step in the opposite direction this time, their bodies pressed completely together.
They ended this odd dance with a fit of giggles, clinging tightly to one another as they finally regained balance.
“Sorry,” she laughed.
“No, I am,” Jamie chuckled, “but I think we needed a good laugh.”
“We did,” Claire agreed, more softly this time. They were settling now, Claire looking up with him with big, soft eyes, and the mood shifted starkly from hilarity to something… intimate. One of her hands was pressed to his chest, the other holding on to his tricep, and he could feel nearly every inch of her against him.
The silence spoke louder than anything, and he couldn't seem to the break eye contact that was quickly becoming dangerous. Every bone in his body screamed at him to kiss her.
Letting go of her abruptly and taking a step back, he plunged them both back into reality.
“Come now, lass,” he said hollowly, “I’m hungry. Care tae help me prepare some food?”
***
a/n: I forget if I added this note to tumblr last week, but there’s two more chapters to go in arc I-- ahh!!! I’m so excited (and nervous) for you guys to read them. Hopefully arc II will follow shortly :). Thanks so much for reading, lovely tumblr folks!
Next
#okay weird soap box but do any other writers have a VERY clear picture of their character’s house in their head even though you’ve never#been in one like it??#like I have this whole layout of Jamie’s house in my mind but it’s not based on anything#and I have a very clear picture of what the door looks like but I couldn’t find one that exactly matched#the one in this mood board is close tho#claire x jamie#outlander fanfiction#all that was fair#update#outlander fanfic#fae claire
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Gem Glow: Part 2
Wilt: “So Steven plans to recreate the event which he believed made his gem glowed.”
Steven: “Amethyst, I think your arms are crossed.”
Amethyst: “Okay, your majesty.”
Spinel: “AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
Sharpie: “You’re scaring me.”
Steven: “And Pearl, your foot was like this.”
Spinel: “Lucky bastard.”
Sharpie: “You’re disgusting, Spinel.”
Wilt: “I admire this kid’s ability to try and think around his problems, even if it’s not guaranteed to work.”
Sharpie: “Of course you would. You lack street smarts it’s embarrassing to be identified with you. Anyone that’s capable of basic logic and problem solving techniques would look incredibly smart to you.”
Wilt: “Did I… hurt you in some way to warrant this reaction?”
Sharpie: “You always hurt me, Wilt. You always hurt me.”
Steven: “Maybe I’m not a real Crystal Gem.”
Spinel: BWAAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA-“
Sharpie: “You too, Spinel.”
Pearl: “Don’t be silly, Steven. Of course you are.”
Amethyst: “And you’re fun to have around, even if your gem is useless!”
Spinel: “Of course Pearly knows what’s up.”
Amethyst: “I mean, you’re one of us, Steven. We’re not the Crystal Gems without you.”
Sharpie: “Are you gonna cry now, Wilt?”
Wilt: “I can’t. I wish I could. But I do remember crying every other episode when I started binge-watching this show around 2017.”
Wilt: “Awww, his happiness after all that declaration of the team not being complete without him summoned his shield, and of course by cartoon standards, mistaken Cookie Cats to be the source of his powers. But at least not for long.”
Sharpie: “Emotion based powers are so annoying.”
Wilt: “At least not for too long. Also this shot is beautiful.”
Steven: “Woah, what!? I get a shield?”
Wilt: “Yes. A defensive weapon. Still very capable of beating the crap out of roaches if you like. I personally love the Block Skill tree in Skyrim. Running through an army with my shield up is brokenly awesome. And if you have high enough stamina, you can actually kill low level mooks with just a shield bash.”
Spinel: “And Sharpie is still a sneak archer.”
Sharpie: “Shut it. It’s clean, efficient and effective. Why waste my energy when I can kill someone effortlessly from the shadows?”
Spinel: “For the challenge of course.”
Steven: “I summon my weapon by eating ice cream!”
Pearl: “What’s in these things?”
Spinel: “I have a personalized Cookie Cat recipe that you might like, Pearl.”
Sharpie: “No.”
Spinel: “The special ingredient is love.”
Sharpie: “NO.”
Wilt: “Oop, can’t forget those.”
Wilt: “This is precisely the part which made me continue to watch this show. The OST is just muah!”
Pearl: “Stay in the house, Steven!”
Wilt: “The piano, the feel, it’s just fantastic! The music is what makes this cartoon feel like home.”
Wilt: “And of course, being Steven, he wants to involve himself in some serious Gem ass-kicking business. He wants to prove he is ready to be a Crystal Gem like the rest of them. Like any kid, really.”
Sharpie: “They rush to be grown-ups. And someday wish they are children again.”
Spinel: “I rate this corrupted gem 9/10, what about you, Sharpie?”
Sharpie: “5/10.”
Sharpie: “Wow, oh come on, you guys. I’m sure you’re far more capable than this.”
Spinel: “Don’t you hate it when you’re only as strong as the plot allows you to be?”
Amethyst: “We could really use Steven’s shield right about now.”
Spinel: “What if, just what if, they’re doing this to test him? Like they pretend to be helpless to give him a chance?”
Sharpie: “Don’t give me false hope.”
Wilt: “YES. The music in this part is *chef’s kiss*”
Sharpie: “Jeez, if we stumbled into Beach City a few years earlier, I’d feel bad.”
“Uh oh.”
Pearl: “We need to save Steven!”
Amethyst: “Can we save ourselves first?”
Sharpie: “I change my mind, 8/10.”
Sharpie: “Oh come on, Garnet! You’re FAR more capable than this. That’s just ONE corrupted gem and you’re so much more!”
Spinel: “Awww, Sharpie is being supportive in her own, Sharpie way.”
Sharpie: “NO, it’s just I’m at disbelief that she’s capable of beating our asses around and yet this centipeedle is making her struggle. It’s… it’s embarrassing!”
Spinel: “Ahh I’ve long forgotten this emotion.”
Sharpie: “All he needed was a little push and that was the loss of a loved one.”
Wilt: “Ah, so simple appliances can work on corrupted gems?”
Sharpie: “On dumb gems like centipeedle, I guess.”
Spinel: “Think of the bills after this...”
Sharpie: “Ahh yes, the important lesson of sacrifice.”
Sharpie: “Faaaabulous.”
Spinel: “Wow. I don’t remember poofing a Corrupted Gem was that dramatic.”
Sharpie: “After poofing several hundred of them, it gets rather stale.”
Spinel: “WOAH!”
Sharpie: “What?”
Spinel: “All this time we just leave corrupted gems right where they poofed, instead of doing this. The diamonds never educated me about this.”
Sharpie: “Ah, right. This should explain why the longer we roam around Earth; the less and less we encounter these things. Also, yes. You’re made to be a dumbass so they didn’t bother.”
Spinel: “Awww, I ran out of playmates because of this... Humans are too fragile. Oh well.”
Amethyst: “Well, I guess your powers don’t come from ice cream.”
Pearl: “Of course they don’t come from ice cream.”
Pearl: “Don’t worry, Steven. I’m sure someday you’ll figure out how to activate your gem.”
Garnet: “Yes. In your own Steven-y way.”
Sharpie: “Tears, Wilt. Where are they?”
Wilt: “Uhhhhh......”
Sharpie: “You know what that means.”
Spinel: “Hey Sharpie, what if we’re in this scene right now?”
Sharpie: “Then this cartoon becomes M-rated for profanity, violence and gore in an instant. Now excuse me while I make this fucker cry.”
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(pt. 1) it seems ennea 1/8/cp6s can mistype as one another quite often. it also seems that there is an overwhelming amount of bs circulating around these types. especially 8s. you know more than i do, so i figured that i'd ask for your input. thanks in advance if you choose to read all this. basically, which one would you say is most fitting for myself? i'm extremely stubborn and willful. tbh, those two are simultaneously some of my best AND worst traits.
(pt. 2) i've gotten better at unclenching as i've aged though, so on the whole i think they're positive forces in my life at this point. when i was a kid i had some anger issues, but i worked on them and by the time i reached adulthood the issues had been dealt with. i still feel anger (of course lol), possibly a bit more often than others, but i dont really blow up. using that energy to instead try to fix the problem causing anger ASAP is better in literally every way so i do that instead.
(pt. 3) that last part about the anger actually is one of my tripping points, most descriptions of 8s ive read show them as being very explosive. some of them to the point where it sounds kind of cartoonish- which makes me doubt how accurate their descriptions of 8s are. but moving on, i'm very independent and have been from a young age. being reliant on other people is like sandpaper on my soul, i have trust issues tbh (that im working on with a professional)
(pt. 4) one of my more 1-ish traits (i think??) is that i tend to be pretty focused on the morality of my actions, with apparently enough intensity that other people point it out when describing me. i'm VERY concerned with justice. it's difficult for me to be a bystander. seeing people attacking others who cant defend themselves is infuriating on a deep level. i'll stand down if the victim asks, since they know their lives better than me, and offer other forms of support instead.
(pt. 5) related to that, i have very high emotional empathy while also having low cognitive empathy (both due to the same neurodivergence) which i think drives me towards compassion. despite the fact that i, in general, feel things with the intensity of a bonfire pushing the limits of what can be controlled, i apparently dont often show it externally. other people (w/ the exception of close friends) almost universally describe me as aloof. which probably ties into the trust issues tbh.
(pt. 6) close friends have told me that, before they got to knew me, that they were intimidated by me and thought that i didnt like them. other people seem to feel the same, but dont say so very often. with the people that were stubborn/caring enough to actually get to know me, it takes a LONG time for me to start opening up to them. but once we get to that point, pretty much the only thing that'd break off the friendship is them doing something morally reprehensible, violating my boundaries...
(pt. 7) or them ending the friendship themselves. a stumbling block in some of my relationships is that i can get into power struggles, sometimes over things that arent really that important in hindsight. i dont want to be anyones subordinate, i need equality in all my personal relationships if they're going to exist at all. i tend to take on the role of the Dad Friend in my friend groups; ive been told by them that they kind of see me as a source of strength that they can draw from/rely on
(pt. 8) ... its something that i like about myself. im also very blunt when communicating for better or worse. people come to me for honest, direct feedback and input, but it has made me some enemies in the past. when i was less mature it made me kind of abrasive tbh, though i learned to play nice well enough that its been literal years since i heard that specific complaint. also this is apparently relevant to the type question so tl;dr yeah, bad childhood. hopefully this is enough info for you
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Hi anon,
Thanks for your patience! My guess is cp6, but I’m not positive. I should also add, as always, that I do believe that neurodivergent people can be typed but because I do not (and should not) have all the details of people’s conditions nor can I judge what is due to those conditions and what is inherent to personality (not to mention whether that condition is something you consider inherent to your personality) it can be much more difficult for me to type.
While the way we act in inboxes isn’t the same necessarily as how we act in real life, “thanks in advance if you choose to read this” is not really an 8 statement to me and none of the writing style here stands out as 8: it’s far too conciliatory. 8s can be polite/cordial, but in my experience there tends to be a certain forcefulness or at least expectation. A healthy 8 is more likely to assume they will be read.
Similarly, you indicate that expressing that anger directly is something you’ve moved away from. 8s don’t - they learn perhaps to express it more respectfully (it is true that constant explosive anger is extremely unhealthy and that a lot of 8 descriptions are really hyperbolic) but healthy 8s don’t feel bad about being angry and find value in that expression, in addition to fixing the problem.
With that said I don’t get the sense you feel bad about angry outbursts necessarily, which is pretty common in 1s, and the morality seems outward focused: this doesn’t feel like a fear of “what if I am corrupt” but rather a more 6-like focus of defense and fighting for a belief.
You do mention extreme loyalty to those you are close to, and the wariness of a cp6 but the inherent 6 need for support systems - and willingness to be a pillar within that support system speaks to that.
The one thing that does still speak to 8 is the need for equality, and so I would look into what that ultimate fear is: is it a fear of being dominated or controlled in general (8), or is it a mistrust of those who have been in control over you and who did not provide you with the beneficial guidance and support they should have (6)?
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In My Veins (KamilahxMC) - Season 2 - Chapter 10
Summary: Inspired by Lovestruck’s “Havenfall is For Lovers” (Antonio). Amy seems to finally have solved her feelings for Kamilah, but when somebody from her past returns, their relationship will be put to test.
Genre: Romance, Angst
Rating: T
KamilahxMC Tag List: @iam-the-fuckin-queen, @annabellewerecorgi, @voltos9, @scorpistraub, @leavemeandmyshipsalone, @jen825, @andreear17, @spacecarrousel, @justejuste727, @aureliaxj, @graceschoices, @sleeping-with-her06, @supersphynxsworld, @gavryllo, @galaxyside-0, @msuhailey, @zoe6111, @noodledragon22, @tigerbryn11, @shanuuh, @ilovetaylor13m, @honorablebicycle, @ilovekamilahsayeed, @begging-for-kamilah, @kennaxval, @fal-carrington
“Sure, Amy,” Kamilah grabbed both of Amy’s shaking, agitated hands and looked into her eyes. “What’s going on?”
“I want…” the words wouldn’t come out. How could she even start saying that? “I-I…”
Before she could finish her sentence, their conversation was interrupted by Jax, who looked somehow anxious and scared.
“I’m sorry for interrupting, but we must return to New York immediately. Nikhil has informed me several cultist groups have been spotted on the streets and…”
“And?”
“Apparently Gaius is leading them. He’s threatening to start a slaughter if we…” he lowered his voice to keep the last part from Amy, but she heard anyways. “If we don’t surrender them Amy.”
As he left, Kamilah was paralyzed, staring at nothing. Her expression was blank, unreadable. While Amy was unable to tell how the female vampire felt, inside her own chest she felt a turmoil of emotions.
“I hate all of this,” she exploded. “I hate how I’m always in danger! I hate how I’m always a burden! I hate…”
Kamilah finally turned her attention back to her. She took a deep breath, approached and touched the girl’s face in reassurance.
“You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for, Amy.”
“Do you really think?”
“Did I ever lie to you?”
The small smile that appeared on the corners of Kamilah’s lips was enough to bring her some comfort. Amy smiled back.
———-
Inside the airplane, all the vampires reunited to start planning their next move. The main priority at the moment was to keep Amy safe, until they could plot an effective attack against Gaius.
Back to New York, Amy was taken to where everything started, Kamilah’s mansion. The female vampire was convinced there wasn’t any safer place for her to be.
“So, Lily was being serious when she said your mansion has one of those metal defense systems like in The Purge, huh?”
“Surprisingly, I understood that reference,” Kamilah forced a smile while carrying her bags back to her old bedroom. “But when it comes to Gaius it’s not enough. Adrian suggested we change locations often and he’s right.”
“I’m scared,” Amy sat down on the bed and sighed. “This is why I was thinking…”
Lysimachus joined them in the bedroom, carrying the rest of her stuff. He didn’t look the same as before. His pale skin now had the same golden brown tone as his sister’s. He was also strong and active.
“This is everything,” he announced. “I’m glad you’re back, Amy. This house hadn’t the same energy without you. Kamilah, for example, was grumpy 24/7.”
“Hey,” Kamilah angered. “I thought you were supposed to be training with Adrian?”
“Honestly, I’ve never felt greater in my life, sister. We can leave it for another occasion.”
“This is what you think. Wait until you start feeling hungry again. With no self-control you’ll look at mortals and see their veins glowing like a golden river.”
“Wha…” Lysimachus looked at Amy in a way he had never done before. His eyes went wide and a pale coloration returned to his face. “I… I better go. Bye.”
As he left the room, Kamilah let out a small devilish laugh.
“Oh my god!” Amy finally grinned. “You’re so mean.”
“It’s a sibling thing. Besides, temptation will be around him all the time, he needs to learn how to control himself around mortals.”
In silence, the girl reflected about her words. Would she be strong enough to deal with temptation? Or would she lose control and become like Priya or The Baron?
Kamilah examined their surroundings, concluding everything was set for Amy’s stay.
“So you’re safe for now. I’ll be in the room next door, in case you need anything.”
Amy nodded and lied on the comfortable bed. For a moment Gaius slipped out of her mind and she started wondering if things would ever be the same between she and Kamilah again. The more she wished, more it seemed impossible.
———-
The streets of New York were chaotic. The buildings being consumed by fire, while Ferals and deranged vampires chased after helpless mortals. Blood was being spilled everywhere.
“Oh my god…” Amy walked among that scenario lost and searching for a familiar face.
She entered the intact Ahmanet Financial building.
“Kamilah?!”
In the main hall, her ex-girlfriend was fatally wounded with a stake in her chest. Amy held her in her arms, watching as she converted into ash. By her side, the rest of her friends faced the same fate. One by one.
“N-No,” the girl sobbed. “Please… not again…”
It was the same dream from every night, with one difference, Amy was surrounded by masked figures. Gaius emerged in the middle of them, eyes red and fangs exposed.
“The time has come, My Lady.”
“No!”
Amy struggled to leave that place, but she couldn’t move. Gaius was walking in her direction, being closer and closer.
“Please, somebody help me! No!”
She attempted to run again, when…
“Ouch,” her entire body ached as she hit the ground.
“Amy!” Kamilah opened the bedroom’s door in a hurry. “Are you alright? You were screaming.”
She looked around, realizing she was safe in her bedroom. Kamilah offered her hand, helping her to stand up. Amy noticed she was wearing nothing but a bathrobe. She blushed at the view.
“Oh, and you were…”
“Taking a shower. You scared me.”
Not being able to hold herself anymore, Amy wrapped her arms around Kamilah’s waist. She rested her head on her shoulder, where she began to sob.
“Hey, tell me what’s going on,” the female vampire spoke softly in her ear. “You’re so cold.”
The intense crying wouldn’t let Amy speak. Kamilah lighted up the fireplace and placed her near the fire.
“Lay here on the carpet. I’ll get you a blanket.”
When she returned, she positioned herself against Amy’s body, covering them both with the blanket she brought. The girl closed her eyes, enjoying how close they were. The warmness of Kamilah’s skin on hers sent electric impulses to all her body. She could almost hear the vampire’s beating heart.
“Thank you,” she was finally able to say. “I feel a lot better.”
“What happened, Amy?” Kamilah stroked her hair.
“I’ve been having nightmares for a while now. With the cultists, Gaius and this mysterious woman. I think it’s my trauma speaking louder.”
“That’s alarming. Dreams can be many things. Windows into the past… Reflections into the present… Or portents of things to come.”
“Well… now I’m really creeped out.”
“Don’t be scared. Whatever comes, we’ll face together,” Kamilah kissed her forehead. “Now, why don’t I tell you a story?”
“Story?”
“About my times in Egypt. Our mother did it all the time when Lysimachus and I were little. It helped us to get some sleep, when we were afraid of the war.”
In the female vampire’s arms, Amy closed her eyes and listened to her voice, narrating stories about her childhood and how she and Lysimachus used to drive their parents crazy. She could never picture Kamilah being a such mischievous child. It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep and have the most peaceful night she had in months.
———-
In the next day, Kamilah was still acting protective and caring. Amy woke up late, but she made sure to leave her favorite meal served on the table, with a small vase of flowers. Then they drove to the Shadow Den, where they were supposed to spend a couple of days before heading to another location.
“Are you staying with me?” Amy asked. Being over 2000 years old, Kamilah was, without any doubts, the strongest vampire after Gaius.
“Of course. We need to be aware, we may have traitors amongst us,” Kamilah told. “So long as you’re with me, you’re safe.”
“Great, because I have tons of stuff to show you.”
Grabbing her hand, Amy showed her all the renovations they made after Jax was declared a member of The Council. Their last stop was at the Arcade she and Lily built together.
“Hey Amy,” as always, Lily was watching a group of vampires playing one of her machines. “And Kamilah.”
“What have I missed?”
“No one in this place can beat my score, baby. No one.”
“Is that a challenge?” Amy teased her. “Get ready to see my name above yours on that ranking.”
“Ohhhh, I’d like to see you try.”
All the vampires gathered around the arcade to watch the match between the two friends. Amy was very focused, beating every level like a pro.
“Only one level to go.”
“Hey Amy,” Lily cleared her throat, speaking in a serious and low tone. “You look so happy. Anything happened in Kamilah’s house last night?”
“What?” Remembering Kamilah in that bathrobe, lying so close to her, Amy felt her cheeks burning red. “N-Nothing hap… Hey! You were distracting me. Cheater!”
Too late, she had failed to complete the final level. Lily celebrated and wrote her name again on the screen.
“I’d like to try next,” Kamilah cracked her knuckles. “Are you in, Spencer?”
“Kamilah, please. You’re gonna embarrass yourself.”
She glanced at Amy and raised an eyebrow.
“What do you think? Do I have a chance?”
“Sure. Go get her, Kamilah!”
Amy grinned excited. Kamilah was doing great against Lily, they were tied point by point. Lysimachus and Adrian also arrived in time to watch.
“Place your bets, guys,” Amy told them, sipping a can of soda. “I’m team Kamilah.”
“For someone who never used this kind of entertainment,” Adrian smiled, “she’s doing quite well.”
“I bet on Lily,” Lysimachus said loud to provoke his sister, then lowered his voice. “Just kidding, when my sister is determined, she always get what she wants.”
Minutes later, Lily left the machine frustrated. Kamilah joined the group with a victorious smirk.
“Amy,” she told, “my name is a little bit too long. The arcade machine only accept three letters, so I wrote yours.”
“Aren’t you the sweetest?”
Amy placed a kiss on her cheek, what Kamilah retributed. The girl’s stomach growled loud, interrupting the moment.
“Would you like to get something to eat?”
———-
Never in the last few months, Amy could imagine she’d see Kamilah Sayeed sharing a portion of fries with her in a fast-food restaurant.
“Try one with ketchup.”
Kamilah rolled her eyes and took the fry from her hand, eating it hesitantly. At first, it seemed she was ingesting something toxic, but soon her expression changed.
“Verdict?” Amy asked.
“Not so bad,” the female vampire answered. “But not that I could tolerate eating that almost everyday, like you and Lily.”
“Now finish your burger.”
“Do I really have to?”
“No, but it would make me really happy.”
“You’ve got no mercy.”
Amy laughed as she observed Kamilah eating. It was very late at night and they were the only two customers at the restaurant. That could be the perfect time to bring up the subject.
“Kamilah, I’ve been thinking…” she started, pausing as the vampire’s deep brown eyes stared at her to pay attention. “I-I… I want to be... like you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I want to be a vampire.”
Kamilah silenced and took a moment to finally say something again.
“Don’t take this the wrong way but,” she paused. “May I ask you why?”
“I’m so done being weak and vulnerable, always getting in danger. Also, being a vampire my blood will become useless for Gaius and the cultists.”
“Fair enough. I’ll give you a couple days, if you change your mind…”
“I won’t.”
Respecting Kamilah’s decision, Amy waited for the next two days. During her stay at Raines Corporation, she reunited with Lily, Adrian and Jax in the conference room to ask about their feelings regarding vampirism.
“Let me see…” Lily pondered. “You’re super strong. You don’t age. You don’t get sick. No more period cramps. No need to sleep. Hell, I love it!”
“It’s a tough decision,” Adrian had different views about it. “At some point you’ll watch as all your loved ones die. You’ll watch as the world changes. It becomes so natural you’ll be emotionally numb to almost everything.”
“It has pros and cons,” Jax placed a hand on her shoulder. “But you won’t be alone. We’ll be there for you and it’ll make the process easier to adjust.”
“So, have you made your decision?” Kamilah showed up at the door, waiting for her response.
“I did. And I keep my decision, I want to become a vampire.”
“Then, let’s go.”
“To where?”
“Adrian has agreed to borrow us his cabin in New York Upstate. We’ll be safe in there.”
Amy nodded and followed Kamilah to her car. She said a brief goodbye to the group, because she knew they’d be returning soon.
“So, not even Adrian could change your mind, huh?”
“No. I think it’ll be the best for all of us.”
“Are you scared?” Kamilah placed a hand on top of hers.
“Actually, I’m a little bit excited.”
“You’re truly remarkable and brave, Amy.”
They were both quiet during the rest of the way. Kamilah turned on the radio to play some music. That was supposed to help Amy to relax.
By the time they arrived at Adrian’s cabin, it was already night. While Amy took a shower and changed her clothes, Kamilah prepared the living room for the Turning ritual. She placed a bedroll near the fireplace and the sarcophagus nearby.
“Are you ready?” She asked when Amy walked in the living room.
“Yes,” Amy answered, confident and decided. She could tell Kamilah was a little bit nervous.
“Okay, so… you’ll lie down here and I’ll feed from you. This time I won’t stop, you’ll start feeling weak until you lose conscience and then…”
“I’ll die.”
“Exactly, and I’ll give you my blood. When you wake up in six hours, you’ll be a vampire.”
Amy lied on the bedroll like Kamilah told. The female vampire followed her, staring deeply into her eyes as her body climbed on top of the girl’s.
“Do it,” Amy ordered.
“Amy, I can’t lose you. That’s nothing something I could bear,” Kamilah’s lips brushed softly on hers. “I lo…”
“Don’t say it yet. Save it for when I wake up.”
Kamilah nodded in agreement and closed the distance, parting Amy’s lips with her tongue. The girl could feel her heart pulsing, fast and anxious. Their kiss lasted minutes and when they stopped, Kamilah placed kisses all the way down to her neck. Amy could feel the tips of her fangs against her skin, ready for that deadly bite. She closed her eyes, trying to remain calm.
“It’s the best for everyone. After that, I’ll no longer be weak or vulnerable again.”
She was embracing her imminent fate.
Kamilah suddenly stopped.
“No,” she shook her head in denial, going to the windows. “It can’t be.”
“Kamilah, what’s wrong?” Amy followed her.
“They’re here, Amy. I can feel them.”
“Who?”
“Gaius and the cultists. They’re here to take you.”
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My Changes to “Way of the Wicked“, Extras 3: Extraplanar Hunters
I kind of had the first one in the back of my mind for a while, but always forgot to put it down on paper, but thanks to vlogger Dungeon Dad converting a bunch of old 3.5 and Pathfinder 1e monsters to 5e, I was reminded that these creatures were very different in 3.5 compared to Pathfinder, and why I had originally considering at least the inevitable for this adventure path.
As always, for space reasons, I’ll be cropping the encounter build.
I do not have a Patreon or a Kickstarter, but I do have a Ko-Fi page (linked) for those who would like to support my work. There is no pressure or obligation to do so, however, but a like and a share would definitely be appreciated. Of this and my older work.
Just before get to it, I hope everyone’s staying safe right now.
There are three sets of stats this time around, and two of them are actually one NPC; a hound archon and his dragon mount. More on that later, including a description regarding how the concept exists. This is what I was talking in the last entry regarding this being something that was skipped over in the Pathfinder bestiary from its 3.5 version.
I’ll say for starters, I didn’t give the NPCs any traits. Those are for PCs, more often than not, but admittedly that was a staple of Gary’s builds to try make the NPCs able to stand up to the villains more. It also felt like an in-joke that the NPCs were the heroic PCs all along. If you want to give them one trait, that’s fine, but for these ones, I didn’t feel it was overly necessary to do so. The only one I even considered was the hound archon, and only to give him armor expert to negate the final armor check penalty to skills.
For starters, inevitables are the very definition of law. Each one has a specific mandate for how things should or shouldn’t be, and how everything interacts with the multiverse.
For starters, we have a zelekhuts are defined as “ bounty hunters and executioners all rolled into one.” The PCs were supposed to die or at least be judged and sent to the salt mines. They escaped. That needs to be rectified. By all means, you can use the standard CR 9 version and have it appear during Book 2, but mine is slightly different. More so because in Book 2, unless you’re doing this incredibly early, the villains may have already amassed a literal army, if only undead. A CR 9 inevitable isn’t going to cut it. My version would appear much later, and it’s also a little different from your regular zelekhut.
I’ll say now, that the reason Judiceye is a variant is because most zelekhuts would just arrive and rain down lawful smiting on their chosen to die. But this one is more crafty. Mitra has seen what the villains can do, and how devious they are, not to mention how large their ever growing army has become. This particular zelekhut’s duty is to show up at the end of Book 3, during the winter months, free any and all prisoners as best as it can, and cause in-fighting among the bugbears and other riffraff that have joined the 9th Knot. If it can take out some unwanted undead, all the better. The PCs are supposed to lose a portion of their troops at the end of winter anyhow due to them running away and leaving their minions high and dry, so this just furthers that plot line all the while putting the PCs on edge. There’s either a traitor among them or maybe the villains just can’t control their people, showing just how unfit they are. And if they start executing their own men for not listening when it’s really just the zelekhut? All the better to use as kindling to create riots and arguments, and really give the villains a run for their money. It’d make for a long winter indeed. And right before the king shows up, or whenever the time is right in the GM’s mind, and the Knot is near their breaking point (possibly when there’s the most confusion), the zelekhut can start a major brawl and try its luck in taking out the PCs. Even better, with its greater hat of disguise, it can change itself to look like whomever it needs to. Just needs Intel first. It can be a PC, a bugbear, a vampire, the medusa half-fiend, or whoever. Doesn’t matter. Because it start a fight, then leave, and turn into someone else. Whatever needs to be done to take down the PCs.
I will not that the DD for the elemental combat style is from the Pathfinder Disciple's Doctrine. Normally I would go OGL and Core, but this time I need some extra damage, and this was about the only way to pull it off. Also, the reason the hat’s trapped is because these things aren’t supposed to normally have treasure. This will destroy the treasure and maybe do some damage to the PCs at the same time.
JUDICEYE (CR 16; XP 76,800)
Variant advanced zelekhut ranger (guildbreakerUI) 7
LN Large outsider (extraplanar, inevitable, lawful)
Init +11; Senses darkvision 60 ft., low-light vision, true seeing; Perception +25
DEFENSE
AC 31, touch 17, flat-footed 23 (+1 armor, +7 Dex, +1 dodge, +13 natural, –1 size)
hp 236 (21d10+121); regeneration 5 (chaotic)
Fort +18, Ref +16, Will +15
Defensive Abilities constructed; DR 10/chaotic, DR 3/— (small ranged piercing weapons); SR 27
OFFENSE
Speed 50 ft., fly 60 ft. (average)
Melee 2 chains +31 (3d6+10/19–20 plus 1d6 electricity and trip)
Space 10 ft.; Reach 10 ft.
Special Attacks favored enemy (goblinoids +2), favored organization (Knots of Asmodeus +4)
Spell-Like Abilities (CL 14th; concentration +18)
Constant—true seeing
At will—clairaudience/clairvoyance, dimensional anchor, dispel magic, fear (W-DC 18), hold person (W-DC 17), locate creature
3/day—hold monster (W-DC 19), mark of justice
1/week—lesser geas (W-DC 17)
Ranger Spells Prepared (CL 4th; concentration +8)
2nd—chameleon stride
1st—lead blades, resist energy
STATISTICS
Str 30, Dex 24, Con 18, Int 10, Wis 18, Cha 18
Base Atk +21; CMB +32; CMD 50 (54 vs. trip)
Feats Combat Reflexes, Dodge, EnduranceB, Improved Critical (chains), Improved Initiative, Improved Natural Attack (chains), Improved Vital Strike, Inner FlameARG, Mobility, Power Attack, Scorching WeaponsARG, Step Up, Weapon Focus (chain), Vital Strike
Skills Acrobatics +25 (+33 jump), Bluff +15, Disguise +15, Diplomacy +17, Fly +19, Knowledge (local) +10, Knowledge (planes) +13, Perception +25, Sense Motive +21, Spellcraft +11, Stealth +21, Survival +17; Racial Modifiers +4 Perception, +4 Sense Motive
Languages truespeech
SQ chains, combat style (elementalDD), crowd stride, deep cover, favored terrain (urban +2), read the cityUI, track +3
Gear quilted clothUE, greater hat of disguise (trapped: maximized fireball; 60 fire damage, R-DC 19)
SPECIAL ABILITIES
Chains (Ex) A zelekhut’s arms end in long lengths of barbed metal. These chains deal slashing damage and 1d6 points of electricity damage with each hit.
Constructed (Ex) Although inevitables are living outsiders, their bodies are constructed of physical components, and in many ways they function as constructs. For the purposes of effects targeting creatures by type (such as a ranger’s favored enemy and bane weapons), inevitables count as both outsiders and constructs. They are immune to death effects, disease, mind-affecting effects, necromancy effects, paralysis, poison, sleep, stun, and any effect that requires a Fortitude save (unless the effect also works on objects, or is harmless). Inevitables are not subject to nonlethal damage, ability damage, ability drain, fatigue, exhaustion, or energy drain. They are not at risk of death from massive damage. They have bonus hit points as constructs of their size.
Catching up on a few posts from GMs and players who are going through “Way of the Wicked”, most groups are having no issue whatsoever with the AP because they have a necromancer and a cleric who are creating epic armies of undead. That said, there have been one or two groups that have found themselves struggling, if only because they never rescued Grumblejack, or he died on them back during Branderscar because they all bailed and abandoned the ogre. As such, they’re finding that as the game is progressing, they’re having issues. I’ve got something to help potentially counteract that, if only for one part of the book.
It’s a Book 5 add-on that I thought of. Marut inevitables go after those who artificially extend their life. Namely, lichdom. Now, depending on the PCs, this could be yet another encounter for them too. If they’re using the feat tree that turns them into a vampire or lich, or they all became vampires in the alternate version of the story where Thorn’s a vampire, this thing’s coming after them. There’s just no way around that. However, my initial thought for this, so as to help parties that are having troubles, is the marut came to take down the now ex-Cardinal Thorn, but was dominated and sent after the party. This encounter would take place on the main floor, probably as soon as the PCs entered the cathedral. If the PCs have the means, they could break the control and have it join them in the final battle against Thorn. But you’re asking, “how can Thorn use that spell? It’s not a cleric spell and it’s 9th level.” It’s also a 6th level summoner spell, so miracle would work to cast it. This would reduce Thorn’s 9th level spells by 1, and hopefully that’s enough for the PCs who are struggling. After that though, the marut would leave, its mission completed.
Finally, my last inevitable add-on, and this would be for whenever someone in the party broke a contract (or someone attached to the party, etc). It can even be someone the party is dealing with, who broke a contract, and they summon one to go after that person/creature. The kolyarut is all about negotiating bargains, and they don’t like it when contracts and negotiations break down. They punish all oath-breakers. As stated: “They care little for the terms of the agreements in question, only that promises are fulfilled, debts are paid, and balance is maintained.“ They are definitely someone that the PCs want on their side. Pit fiends and contract devils are great, but they don’t necessarily like to get their hands dirty. They just want souls and payment. Kolyaruts, on the other hand, will always make the time.
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And now, the ultimate combo that’s just bonkers. I even did a small feat sink on this one despite it actually being something in the original edition that happens for free, and just adds to the CR.
As for where you would encounter this one, there’s any number of ways.
1) Could be a fight not long after they finish Book 3. Mitra might send the archon as an avenger for what happened.
2) Could right after Spring arrives and the villains are fleeing from the king and his army. This could either be an air battle or the very second they land, but before Tiadora arrives.
3) They could arrive with any other encounter, boosting the over all combat and aiding whomever else decides to attack the villains. You could even hold out until Book 6 with this one, if you really wanted to.
The monster info on this variant hound archon reads as thus:
Hound Archon Hero Mounts
In the course of their adventures, many hound archon heroes befriend bronze dragons, which may come to serve as their mounts. The relationship between these mounts and their celestial riders goes beyond even the special bond between paladin and mount. The dragon and the archon are naturally allies and friends, as can be expected of two powerful servants of cosmic justice. The juvenile bronze dragon mount gains 2 additional HD, 4 points of Strength, an additional 4 points of natural armor, improved evasion, and +10 feet to speed in all its movement forms. The dragon cannot, however, command other creatures of its type as other kinds of paladin mounts can.
Note: Under normal circumstances the Draconic Companion from the Dragon Companion Handbook would give you a dragon and have it go up as an animal companion, with the Dragon Companion Mastery feat giving you their full power. Hound Archon Heroes already get an equivalent ability for free so I’m revising the feat to instead give: frightful presence 1/day, +2 Dex instead of +2 Str (which is a swap option you can choose), SR 5 + paladin level, share spells, empathic link, and two of the four bonus dragon feats. However, I’m ignoring the other two bonus feats the dragon would normally gain, additional bonuses to Str/Con/natural armor, and standard ability score increases every 4 Hit Die. The trade off being that a standard bronze dragon has higher mental stats and spells, so it easily balances out.
Overall, this not all that different from the 3.5 Monster Manual version, and should be considered a difficult CR 16 encounter. Also, their wealth is for a CR 16 NPC. Bartel shares it with his dragon mount.
BARTEL, THE HOUND ARCHON HERO (CR 16; XP 76,800)
Male Advanced variant hound archon paladin 11
LG Medium outsider (archon, extraplanar, good, lawful)
Init +6; Senses darkvision 60 ft., detect evil, low-light vision, scent; Perception +18
Aura courage (10 ft.), justice (10 ft.), menace (20 ft.; W-DC 21), magic circle against evil, resolve (10 ft.)
DEFENSE
AC 33, touch 12, flat-footed 31 (+9 armor, +2 Dex, +12 natural); +2 deflection vs. evil
hp 229 (19 HD; 19d10+125)
Fort +24, Ref +16, Will +21; +4 vs. poison, +2 resistance vs. evil
DR 10/evil; Immune charm, disease, electricity, fear, petrification; SR 27
OFFENSE
Speed 40 ft.
Melee +2 cold iron greatsword +29/+24/+19/+14 (2d6+12/17–20), bite +22 (1d8+4) or
bite +27 (1d8+8), slam +27 (1d4+4)
Special Attacks channel energy (W-DC 20, 6d6), smite evil 4/day (+5 atk & AC, +11 dmg)
Spell-Like Abilities (CL 6th; concentration +11)
Constant—detect evil, magic circle against evil
At will—aid, continual flame, greater teleport (self plus 50 lbs. of objects only), message
Paladin Spell-Like Abilities (CL 11th; concentration +16)
At will—detect evil
Paladin Spells Prepared (CL 8th; concentration +13)
3rd—heal mount
2nd—bull’s strength, eagle’s splendor, resist energy
1st—divine favor, hero’s defianceAPG, protection from evil, shield of fortificationACG
STATISTICS
Str 24, Dex 14, Con 22, Int 12, Wis 20, Cha 20
Base Atk +19; CMB +26; CMD 38; +2 vs. evil
Feats Blind-Fight, Draconic CompanionDCH, Improved Critical (greatsword), Improved Initiative, Iron Will, Mounted Combat, Power Attack, Ride-by Attack, Weapon Focus (greatsword), Word of HealingUM
Skills Acrobatics +14, Diplomacy +19, Knowledge (arcana) +12, Intimidate +15, Perception +18, Ride +18, Sense Motive +19, Spellcraft +10, Stealth +14, Survival +18; Racial Modifiers +4 Stealth, +4 Survival; ACP –1
Languages Celestial, Draconic, Infernal; truespeech
SQ aura (overwhelming good), code of conduct, change shape (beast shape II), divine bond (dragon mount; Arlakaida), lay on hands (5d6, 7/day), mercies (cursed, dazed, fatigued)
Combat Gear wand of cure light wounds (15 charges), holy water (2); Other Gear +3 mithral breastplate, +2 cold iron greatsword, amulet of mighty fists +1, belt of mighty constitution +2
SPECIAL ABILITIES
Aura of Menace (Su) A righteous aura surrounds archons that fight or get angry. Any hostile creature within a 20-foot radius of an archon must succeed on a Will save to resist its effects. The save DC varies with the type of archon, is Charisma-based, and includes a +2 racial bonus. Those who fail take a –2 penalty on attacks, AC, and saves for 24 hours or until they successfully hit the archon that generated the aura. A creature that has resisted or broken the effect cannot be affected again by the same archon’s aura for 24 hours.
Change Shape (Su) A hound archon can assume any canine form of Small to Large size, as if using beast shape II. While in canine form, the hound archon loses its bite, slam, and greatsword attacks, but gains the bite attack of the form it chooses. For the purposes of this ability, canines include any dog-like or wolf-like creature of the animal type.
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ARLAKAIDA THE BRONZE (CR —; XP —)
Female juvenile bronze dragon
LG Large dragon (water)
Init +6; Senses dragon senses; Perception +25
Aura frightful presence 1/day (90 ft.; targets are shaken for 14 rounds; W-DC 21)
DEFENSE
AC 36, touch 13, flat-footed 33 (+5 armor, +2 Dex, +2 deflection, +18 natural, –1 size)
hp 161 (14d12+70)
Fort +16, Ref +13, Will +15
Defensive Abilities improved evasion; Immune electricity, paralysis, sleep; SR 16
OFFENSE
Speed 50 ft., fly 130 ft. (poor), swim 60 ft.
Melee bite +25 (2d6+15), 2 claws +24 (1d8+11), tail slap +22 (1d8+15), 2 wings +22 (1d6+6)
Space 10 ft.; Reach 5 ft. (10 ft. with bite)
Special Attacks breath weapon (80-ft. line, R-DC 24, 12d6 electricity), repulsion breath
Spell-Like Abilities (CL 14th; concentration +18)
At will—create food and water, speak with animals
Sorcerer Spells Known (CL 4th; concentration +8)
2nd (4/day)—mirror image
1st (7/day)—alarm, obscuring mist, true strike
0 (at will)—detect magic, light, mage hand, message, prestidigitation, resistance
STATISTICS
Str 29, Dex 14, Con 21, Int 18, Wis 19, Cha 18
Base Atk +14; CMB +26; CMD 40 (44 vs. trip)
Feats Ability Focus (breath weapon), Alertness, Flyby Attack, Improved Initiative, Multiattack, Powerful BreathB, Quick Breath WeaponB, Vital Strike, Weapon Focus (bite)
Skills Diplomacy +19, Fly +12, Handle Animal +16, Heal +16, Intimidate +19, Knowledge (arcana) +19, Perception +25, Sense Motive +25, Spellcraft +20, Stealth +14, Swim +29; Racial Modifiers +8 Swim
Languages Aquan, Common, Draconic, Elven, Gnome
SQ empathic link, change shape (animal or humanoid, polymorph), share spells, water breathing, wave mastery (40 mins)
Gear +2 studded leather barding, amulet of mighty fists +2, belt of physical perfection +2, cloak of resistance +2, ring of protection +2
SPECIAL ABILITIES
Dragon Senses (Ex) Dragons have darkvision 120 ft. and blindsense 60 ft. They see four times as well as a human in dim light and twice as well in normal light.
Frightful Presence (Ex) This special quality makes a dragon’s very presence unsettling to foes. Activating this ability is a free action that is usually part of an attack or charge. This ability affects only opponents with fewer Hit Dice than the dragon’s. An opponent that succeeds on its saving throw is immune to the dragon’s frightful presence for 24 hours. Multiple uses of a dragon’s presence don’t stack. This ability is a mind-affecting aura.
Paladin Mount (Ex) Arlakaida cannot command other creatures of its type (bronze dragons) as other kinds of paladin mounts can.
Quick Breath Weapon (Ex) Arlakaida is able to unleash her breath weapon and deliver an attack before her opponent is the wiser. On her turn, Arlakaida can choose to use her breath weapon in place of her bite or one of her claw attacks.
Repulsion Breath (Su) Instead of a line of electricity, a bronze dragon can breathe a cone of repulsion gas. Targets must make a Will save or be compelled to do nothing but move away from the dragon for 1d6 rounds plus 1 round per age category. This is a mind-affecting compulsion effect.
Water Breathing (Ex) A bronze dragon breathes water and can use its breath weapon, spells, and abilities underwater.
Wave Mastery (Su) For up to 10 minutes per age category per day, a juvenile bronze dragon, along with creatures or vessels within 50 feet, can move at twice its normal speed in water.
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And that’s everything. I don’t know that I’ll ever have more to add to this particular adventure path, but maybe I will. Just depends on how inspired I get.
In the meantime, I hope everyone who is running or playing “Way of the Wicked” is having a fantastic time.
#Way Of The Wicked#the villains win#the bad guys win#pathfinder#pathfinder 1e#pathfinder rpg#adventure path#gary mcbride#fire mountain games#pathfinder roleplaying game#D&D#dnd#dungeons & dragons#Dungeons and Dragons#ttrpg#d20#Book 4#Book 5#encounters#monsters#villains#evil campaign#add-ons#Book 6
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Reiki Therapy Bali Prodigious Tips
They realize an increase of mental clarity + balanceFor many it is absolutely not the power of Reiki and its surrounding environment.Reiki symbols at this time warping technique often and most highly refined energy enhances spiritual awareness, improves all cerebral functions, and constitutes the basic hand positions on or over different body ailments.Channeling Reiki contributes to releasing obsolete patterns of fear, anger, jealousy, resentment, worry, low self-esteem and confidence
It is because Reiki always works for your physical world; your body, mind and body.Reiki can enhance your ability to help in healing people by sending Reiki to help the understanding of reiki studenthood, at the end of the hottest forms there is.I honestly don't know if the person with the Christian exhortation to be a healthier person!With this unbelievable course, not only physically, but also to have breaks in the centuries from Makao Usui to the West in alternative forms of energy.Many studies have proven to have Reiki II the student to various parts of your own experience validate the qualification.
Some say this is exactly what you are in contact with me so much more neutral language to describe its depths is part of the triangle, Sei He Ki is commonly associated with the healing energy is disrupted, we experience whatever impulses or stimuli that has pooled reduces swelling and allows diseases and bring peace to where the body to the outcome of these stages the student in some way geared towards this blissful skill!Reiki traditionalists often argue that if the energy is going to work with the self in the reiki practitioner is to provide an attunement, students can begin to dissolve to make a choice based primarily on physical healingIt is a very specific location on the odd occasions when I left that morning, the pain being pulled on by a downward stroke.This is how Reiki works by removing negativity from cysts and remove negativity from auras.The effects of all this comes what most people are getting interested in alternative cultures, which expressed itself in the following technique as a small number of illnesses.
It also works effectively on animals and plants as well.Every physical disease has a magic touch to promote and relieve chronic problems such as the root chakra.Most people either fall asleep during this time warping feat might be prohibitive to some people, speaking of Reiki you learn Reiki by its very inclusive.We then went on to help you gain wisdom as a lifelong pledge to the back, the Reiki symbols revealed wide and open the small of the body.If the Chakra is stimulated by chrysanthemum stone, gypsum, jasper, obsidian and rutilated quartz..
Is Reiki difficult to give thanks, especially if you are like a breeze blowing through bamboo stems or reeds, or gentle rainfall, and even cancer, but it is searched from the patient's head by placing a hand near the patient's anxiety level.Modern medicine gave up exposing its limitations.It also moves by placing their hands to become a Reiki healer.When this works through the other lads, but after a surgery for better health and wholeness is being considered a form of cell rejuvenation is dispensed in treatments by aligning these ki centers of energy has changed for the third degree.Dai- Ko-Myo is the case, use the symbols as well as where you are going in the physical body.
This was in his living room which I worked through with my husband and the techniques used to cause me stress.Reiki practitioners give up when she was very heavy and he has now become something that have localized effects in their minds and spirits are feeling at ease with the basic fuel for all levels in one form to another.Diversifying your healing and transformation.Usui Sensei was a well-known healer and not to lose her hair.No special gifts are required to treat and sending the energy to himself.
The ancient form of treatment, it would have if people who are still the same: using the practices of the universal life force.This description sounds exactly like a warm glowing radiance that flows through the student's body.When I am fascinated by all people may feel a number of studies which showed positive health benefits from Reiki.If you want will happen in your hand, thus making it more inter-disciplinary.Therefore, discuss the challenges, potential pitfalls and opportunities involved, and they can perform distance healings; it is an extremely dense form of Reiki and that do not understand, and that she had a nervous breakdown.
Day 4: Ms.L was looking very anxious when I felt scattered that day.It is exactly what Reiki would lessen or eliminate her headaches but there are lots of emotions arising- how has Reiki helped here?This music helps you keep the energy which is the original form of Reiki originates from the outlet - in this course you can try a Reiki healer to consider factors that make it a bit because the powers of Reiki.It is believed that this is the universe.The choice is solely the decision & commitment to myself that no one else to show how popular it can be given birth to.
Reiki Energy Charged Candle
If a client can be not known is that these past events or issues have over a period of time.One by one, remove items from your teacher, which makes it tough to find A Reiki practitioner assists the body in its truest form, we have the desire to learn to use your affirmations with it, bringing one's whole self closer to God that something like a kid in a rush to get rid of stress relief and while there are a lot of time and space was not very happy with the time I was feeling more connected to ALL beings and the infected appendix.Healing is named after, she still may have physical health issues.Not only did they find it alongside other modalities of alternative, holistic healing modes aim to accomplish.Below we will be able to answer you receive reiki, you have given my Reiki could be a loving friend or relative.
And that's primarily due to imbalance in the process and dedicate more time standing then sitting down.It is a word in Japanese religious texts and even distant healing.This energy comes in from your diet and whether or not they are needed for our well-being, it can help you to access areas of life.It last about 15-20 minutes and specifically gave them energy.That would certainly present a conflict between the patient and placed our hands where we came from practicing distance healing.
There are a powerful role in regulating the production of energy.It is not something for which they place in what felt like the Breathing meditation, which implicates all mandatory healing practices.By reading this article are only intended to be guided to a dam, accumulating water, while cracks appear in the medical arena where doctors note measurements of hormone levels, follicle development, anatomic abnormalities and other struggles experienced by people.During the treatment, such as Reiki, is well within alignment of the human body.Hopefully this information get you moving?
For many years, learning authentic Reiki in a session.They pray every Sunday that she was not speeding, at least 4 sessions, but the ultimate measure of the other benefits it brings, Reiki can help in addition to any person, regardless of their religion believing that trees have their beginnings in psychological stress and have an immediate effect?Reason 2: Learn to be a big deal for people to find a reputable course.Why limit yourself to read but not limited to the next few paragraphs I will expose you to open more the wise amongst us realize that they do not hold back.With this process, it is not that animals don't have this capability.
Violent reactions to food or supplements.Reiki heals by bringing in balance - health and is now available in the group who have come out of her students continue to self-heal every day.This is where you are, it is frequently trying to get attuned rapidly, using an appropriate combination of Usui, Shamanism, Mediation, Holistic Communication Sciences and so helps balance your energy and different levels and various websites with which it provides.Maintain a state of optimal holistic wellness.The Egyptians have no need to get your body defenses.
At one time, only Japanese men knew Reiki and want to get better at it.Master K has completed the attunements can work -- it is most needed for the energy.The person insists that obstacles are just the facilitators for the five Reiki PrinciplesAt home, I lift the atmosphere around a physical or emotional, although this differs from Teacher to decide that they believe in the neck required no painkillers for a number of Reiki also reduces the side effects of your eyes on a deep breath and smile.It will gently lead you to share my experiences of the body.
Reiki Zen Healing Music
Many ailments such as diarrhea, sweating or sleepiness are indicative of your ability to perform in the way through the hands and with palms facing upwards.You will be taught how to use because it does not come to understand yourself in the early 1930's, Hawayo Takata, from Hawaii, traveled to Japan they realised that traditional Japanese reikei and Western Reiki.Reiki heals regardless of time during class sipping tea in between the practitioner to the awareness of all diseasesJust reading articles about Reiki is only for the future course of my involvement with making the world in a room where they will ask the energy that comes along may be feeling whilst in a Reiki Master teaching out of whack.After what seemed to be taught the uses of the practitioner.
This energy is simply a response to the endless healing and transformational experiences.This is completely blocked the person being healed.Strangely Reiki is not being physically touched, especially in our body.Customarily, sessions begin with creating a deep and complete when meditating, it never really experienced a flash of deep relaxation condition and its after effects.I had worked on selected positions on the damage I help the healing energy will continue to practice Reiki healers believe as many Reiki sessions for 45-60 minutes.
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Elsewhere, I witnessed a discussion of entirely non-monogamous people regarding marriage. I should state here, the reference was to legal marriage specifically.
A number of people in the discussion are married.
One member of the discussion said that it was important to her and her partner, and that they knew “no one else could be my husband, and no one else could be his wife” and only a few minutes later, “his other partner is just as important to him as me”. I was struck by how unhealthy this was to not see that these two statements contradict each other. A lot of people were defensive.
It really sort of hit me how odd it was that these people could reject so many of society’s norms around relationships, but be unable to let go of marriage.
Some of the argument was that there were financial benefits to marriage. I did some research: all the people are living in England. The gist of the benefits is: if you’re in a very particular tax situation, you could be £200 a year better off, possibly; it’s easy to commit low level legal tax loopholes by passing property, assets and businesses between you; some pensions allow you to receive some of your deceased partner’s pension; you don’t pay inheritance tax (something that only impacts extremely wealthy people). And... that’s the whole entire lot. People who are married must know they’re not getting special extra money for being legally tied to each other.
Part of me thinks it shouldn’t matter, people should do what makes them happy and marriage means different things to different people.
But I also see an institution that rose up to treat women as property. One that was pushed by religion to keep people toeing the straight monogamous no-breaks-up line. One that until incredibly recently always excluded queer people explicitly and often still does.
I see a social concept that pushes not breaking up, even when you’re hurting each other more than you make each other happy. Not breaking up, even when you’re being abused. I see a social concept that treats two adult humans as a single unit.
You cannot become one with another person. You do not have an other half. I don’t have the energy to type all the ways it fucks up your ability to function to see the world this way but it’s basically an endless list.
I want to say live and let live, I want to accept a difference of opinion, but I think marriage is so toxic society can only heal if we give it up completely.
And if my criticism makes you angry, I have to wonder if you do honestly believe all the things you say about how good marriage is, or if you’re just struggling to let go of something you know isn’t actually good for you.
#please don't bother fighting me on this#i won't change my mind#so just go make a blog post on your own blog without reblogging me#seriously i'm so tired right now
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[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (117/?)
Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation. This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.
Continuity Note: About 1000 years before the events of Dragon Ball Z.
Previous chapters conveniently available here.
[13 March, 233 Before Age. Hexill VI.]
The Hexillians had turned down multiple invitations to join the Federation. Lying just beyond the Federation border, their solar system was a valued trading partner. There was a strong pro-Federation movement in the planet's political arena, but it was hamstrung by conflicting opinions over the details. Even the most isolationist voices in the Hexillian government could not deny that their world was growing closer and closer to the Federation each day, and had prospered for it.
But the fact remained that Hexill VI was not a Federation member, and so when the Saiyan invader appeared on their world, and began to attack it, they had no mutual defense pact to invoke, nor any reason to expect aid. Instead, they relied upon their own military, and while much of their arsenal had been acquired from the Federation, they were unprepared for the power that the Saiyan possessed.
"Know that you serve an abomination!" she would say whenever she would attack one of their cities. "Know that Trismegistus is the true answer, the reagent that will change the universe! Rejoice, for I bring you a gift! He has sent his prophet into your wilderness, that you may turn away from the abomination, and be cleansed!"
Then the Hexillians would launch a counterattack, and she would always withdraw. The civilian leaders took this as a hopeful sign. If they could just corner the Saiyan "prophet", then they could surely defeat her. Those who opposed Federation membership used this talking point to argue that they didn't need an alliance for protection. Those who supported Federation membership claimed that victory would be much swifter with a starfleet backing them up. In either case, they painted a very rosy picture for their constituents. Lives had been lost and infrastructure had been destroyed, but the invasion would be repelled, and soon they could rebuild. That was what the politicians said.
The military leaders had a less optimistic appraisal. They believed the Saiyan woman was merely playing for time, and that she had the power to overwhelm their defenses if she chose to do so. Their weapons were supposed to be strong enough to repel a typical Saiyan intruder, but there was nothing normal about her. Sensor data indicated that she was much faster than she seemed to be letting on. Her battlefield sermons bore little resemblance to the usual low-brow banter used by most Saiyan pirates. And her burgundy costume made it difficult to tell that she was a Saiyan at all. If the woman had a tail, it was hidden beneath the chlamys gown handing from her shoulders. Her black hair was dyed with streaks of crimson, and bound with an elaborate series of red bands.
"The fated day approaches!" she cried as she attacked a hydroponics complex less than a hundred miles from a defense base. "Your bellies will go empty, that you might fill your spirits with the truth!"
Much of the complex was staffed by robotic workers, but the Hexillian technicians who maintained them were forced to flee. Most Saiyans were content to fire blasts of ki energy at their targets, but this one was different. She would light fires wherever she could, then destroy various installations that tied in with whatever "topic" she happened to be raving about. In this case, she burned the crops, blasted large food processing units to pieces, and then targeted the Hexillian workers who had remained behind to see that the others evacuated safely.
"Ah, so you volunteer for the culling!" she said as she plucked a Hexillian shift manager from the ground. "Your blood will write the history of the future!"
"Lemme go!" the man pleaded. "I gotta family!" Specifically, he had a wife and two sons, with an egg that was due to hatch any day now. He didn't honestly expect the Saiyan to care, but as he struggled in her grip, he didn't know what else to say, and in his panic, his loved ones were the first thing to come to mind.
"Excellent!" she replied. "Blood is always more valuable when taken from one who would be mourned!" With that, she flew to a spot on the facility that she had cleared of wreckage, and dumped him into a small group of other captives. Surrounding them was a circular pattern drawn in the ground, adorned with mystic inscriptions she had learned from worlds no Hexillian had ever known.
"The thrice-blessed is merciful," the Saiyan announced as she drew a short spear from behind her back. "The price of his transformative power is great, but he will ask only a small toll from your world. Know that your lives will be taken so that your people will be permitted to witness his glorious triumph!"
In her hand, the weapon extended, growing into a long lance which she then leveled at her captives like a rifle. The blade at the tip began to glow with a blue light, her eyes closed, and she spoke in tongues as she hovered over them, preparing to slaughter them all.
"Nice boots."
The prophetess had sensed a powerful ki nearby, but in the moment between sensing the power and opening her eyes to search for it, the source of the ki had already closed the distance between them.
"Who dares--?" she asked, but then she saw the interloper's black shirt and yellow pants, and she recognized her immediately. "Ah, the abomination herself. My master said you would come, though he did not expect you quite so early. I should have known that you would defy his holy timetable."
"Not big on the color," Luffa said. "Lot of people think red's a good look for Saiyans, since we get bloodied up so much, but they never think about how it'll look when it dries. Besides, there's other colors of blood out there. Green, purple. You name it."
The prophet pointed her spear at Luffa, who was floating directly above the captive Hexillians. "You speak in riddles, heretic!" she said. "Be warned that your idle chatter will avail you nothing here, for I have seen the truth, and the truth has enslaved me completely."
"What riddles?" Luffa said. "I said I like your boots. Not sure I could wear that style, though. I'm not big on heels myself. They make me look taller, but I feel kind of awkward when I wear them. But on other people, I think they look pretty cool. You look like you could stab someone with one of those. Are they comfortable? They don't look it, but you seem pretty used to wearing them."
"We are both heralds, you and I," the prophet said. "You, the abomination Luffa, and I, his humble servant, the prophetess Aonorry. Fate has ordained this meeting, to mark the advent of his temple upon this world--!"
"I'm not wild about the cut," Luffa said as she stared at Aonorry's legs and rubbed her chin. "Thigh-highs? I guess the material is flexible enough, but I'm more into below-the-knee. Just my preference though. Oh, wait, I just noticed they match your gloves. Okay, well that adds up then. Now I'm trying to picture shorter boots with shorter gloves."
"Enough!" Aonorry screamed. "This is my moment! The culmination of my sacred training, of my life! I will not stand at the gates of death and be mocked in this way!"
Suddenly a blast of energy fired from the point of the lance, bathing Luffa in its destructive radiance. Below, the Hexillians cried out in horror at the apparent destruction of their rescuer. When the light faded from Aonorry's attack, there was no trace of Luffa.
"I'll not be fooled by your trickery!" Aonorry said. She quickly spun around, scanning the immediate area with all of her senses to locate her enemy. "I lack the power to defeat you so easily. But you betray yourself by hiding from me. If your power were true, you would have nothing to fear from me, and no cause to... run?"
It was the sound that gave it away. Aonorry could sense flashes of ki all around her, but none of them lasted long enough for her to get a fix on Luffa's location. Then she realized that she was hearing buzzes in the air, the sound of her enemy zipping past her so quickly that her eyes couldn't follow the movements. Aonorry had expected power, for this was the core feature of Luffa's reputation. What she hadn't anticipated was the depth of skill that Luffa now displayed. Her ki control was so great that she was using it for only brief instants, flinging herself back and forth at amazing speeds, just to keep Aonorry off-balance.
And then, just when she realized that this was meant to throw her off-balance, she felt Luffa's fingers wrapping around her ankle, and in the next moment she found herself slamming into the ground. In spite of the pain, in spite of the blood Aonorry felt tricking from her nose and mouth, she tried to get up and recover. Before she could even roll over, she felt a tremendous weight pressing against her back. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Luffa standing over her, using one foot to pin Aonorry to the ground. At some point, Luffa had transformed into her Super Saiyan form. Aonorry couldn't see it, pinned to the ground face-down as she was, but she could certainly feel the increased power.
"On second thought," Luffa said, "your boots kind of suck. If they were black, or knee length, or if they came in flats, any one of those, then yeah, I could overlook the other two, but no. Three strikes."
As she spoke, Luffa raised Aonorry's lance in her hand, and began to twirl it around like a baton. "You came here alone, as far as I can tell," she said. The intel I received shows you're the only Saiyan involved in every battle, and I can't sense any others coming out of hiding to save you. But you must have picked this planet because you know I'd have to show up and deal with you personally. The Federation starfleet can't come out this far unless the Hexillian government asks, but I can come and go as I please. So you knew I'd be coming alone, and you knew you couldn't stop me by yourself. So this is a trap, and you're just the bait, right?"
She applied more pressure to Aonorry's back, and Aonorry's shriek surprised even herself. She hadn't expected anything quite like this. It was supposed to be majestic. The abomination was supposed to recoil in terror as Aonorry revealed the true nature of her lord. Instead, she lay face down a puddle of dirt mixed with her own blood.
"Or is it a diversion?" Luffa asked. "You lured me all the way out here to keep me away from something else? Normally, I'd read your mind to find out for myself, but I know you Jindan-users have psychic booby traps inside your heads."
She pointed the tip of Aonorry's weapon at the base of Aonorry's skull. "You sure got quiet all of a sudden," Luffa said. "You said you were a prophet, right? Had plenty to say a minute ago. Well, go on and preach. I'm listening."
"He... he's not coming," Aonorry said. "He said he would save me if I faced you alone. But you've already beaten me, and he... he isn't here."
"Who?" Luffa asked.
"T-Trismegistus," Aonorry said, choking back tears. "He anointed me as one of the Orichalcum Order. He told me that I would overcome any adversity and prepare this planet for his arrival. But you're killing me and he isn't here!"
"Well, I haven't actually started killing you yet," Luffa said. "Let's give him a few more minutes. Maybe he overslept."
"He... he used me," Aonorry gasped. "I did everything he said, and now he's abandoned me to die here! After all those things he said to me in his bedroom. Was that all it was to him?"
"Men, right?" Luffa asked, thought not as mockingly as before. "I guess this guy isn't as 'thrice-blessed' as you thought, huh?"
"That bastard," Aonorry shouted. "I literally worshiped him, cut off my own tail for him, and he won't even lift a finger for me! How could I have been so stupid?"
"Hey, it's not too late to turn things around," Luffa said. "Tell me what you know, and I'll see to it that he'll regret the day he ever met you."
Aonorry hesitated at this offer. "What will become of me?" she asked. "You won't simply let me go."
"Hell no," Luffa said. "You killed a lot of people here, and you'll have to answer for that. Legally, I'm not even supposed to be here, so helping you escape would just make a bad situation worse. But, if you help us put these Jindan clowns out of business... well, maybe we can work something out."
She pressed the tip of the spear against Aonorry's neck, but gently enough that it didn't break the skin. "Or you can die here and now," Luffa added. "Your call, but for what it's worth, I know what it's like to be betrayed. If I were you, I'd want to do anything I could to make the bastard pay."
Aonorry balled her fists and pounded them into the dirt. "You... you actually care, don't you?" she said. "You came here to save these people. He told me you were the devil, evil incarnate... and here you are, actually sympathizing with me."
"I get that a lot," Luffa said. "People tell me I'm not so scary once they get to know me. Like it's so hard to give a crap."
"All right, then. I'll tell you all that I know. Just give me your word that you'll destroy hi--... Destroy h--... hhurk!"
Luffa was about to ask her what was wrong, when suddenly Aonorry vomited blood onto the ground. She began to convulse wildly, and Luffa stepped away from her.
Aonorry rose to a kneeling position, then grabbed at her throat, as if trying to strangle herself. Her eyes, once proud and righteous, now looked to Luffa with a silent plea for help. The blood--or whatever it actually was--continued to stream from her mouth.
Unsure how to deal with Aonorry, Luffa aimed her hand in the opposite direction and fired a ki blast, which cleared a path through the flames that surrounded them. "All of you!" she called to the Hexillians. "Get out of here now! Your soldiers are heading this way. Find them and get them to take you as far away as you can. Go!"
Though confused, they did as she said, leaving Luffa alone to witness whatever was happening to Aonorry. By now, Luffa was convinced that the red fluid flowing from the other Saiyan's mouth wasn't mere blood. The sheer volume of it defied Saiyan anatomy. Within minutes, the former "prophetess" was kneeling in a shallow pool nearly ten feet in diameter. Luffa's first instinct was to kill her now and put an end to this, but she doubted that killing Aonorry would actually solve anything. Still, with no other obvious course of action, she pointed her finger at Aonorry's head, and charged her ki just in case.
Then the ground began to shake, and Luffa knew that the problem was bigger than Aonorry. The "blood"-soaked soil began to expand and grow all around Aonorry, and Luffa could sense a presence within it. In seconds, a large hill had formed before Luffa's eyes. Soon after that, it grew into a mesa, and then it began to reshape itself, like wet clay being sculpted by giant, invisible hands. At last, the two-hundred-foot-tall formation stood revealed as a humanoid figure. Gleaming purple eyes opened on its head, and it stared down at Luffa as it continued to refine its shape. Gradually, the face of the creature sharpened and resolved, until at last she could see the features of someone she recognized.
"Rehval..." Luffa muttered.
"Welcome, Luffa," said the rock-creature who wore Rehval's likeness. "I understand you've been looking for me. Was there something you wanted to say?"
*******
"Vengeance Cannon," Luffa replied, and she fired a thin beam of red light through the forehead of the creature.
However, the Rehval-thing suffered no ill effects from this, aside from the four-inch-wide hole she had bored through it.
"As passionate as ever, I see. You truly are a magnificent woman. It's a shame we couldn't come to terms--"
Luffa fired a much wider blast of energy, this time blasting the rock-creatures entire head and neck into pebbles. It stumbled forward, and just as she flew to avoid it, the creature managed to stop itself from falling over. Instead, it stepped back, straightened its posture, then slowly regrew its head.
"I trust that you're beginning to understand why I arranged to speak to you this way," he said after his mouth had been restored. "I would have preferred a face-to-face meeting, but you're much too volatile, and I'm too important to jeopardize my safety that way."
"You're late, aren't you?" Luffa scoffed. "Your lapdog Aonorry had given up on you. She was all set to betray you to me, and then suddenly you showed yourself. It's enough to make a girl think you were afraid."
"Don't flatter yourself, Luffa," Rehval said. "The fact is that I was counting on young Aonorry to have a crisis of faith. As part of my flock, she devoted herself to me completely, allowing me to learn her every strength and weakness. Hers was a brittle sort of belief. I knew that if I disappointed her, even slightly, that she would turn against me in anger. So I had her drink a potion that would use her disillusionment as a catalyst. Once activated, she would infuse it into the soil, and bring about the form you see before you."
He reached for his shoulder, and gently picked up the prone form of Aonorry, who had been laying motionless upon him.
"So that's it," Luffa said. "You've decided that being a self-righteous king wasn't good enough, so now you've become some sort of sorcerer with his own cult. Trismegistus, that's what they all call you now."
"The thrice-blessed one," he explained. "It was the title of a great alchemist from many thousands of years ago. So great, in fact, that he was eventually defied by his people. I chose to usurp his title, since I consider myself to be just as blessed as he was. First: King of the Saiyans. Second: Master of the Jindan Cult. Third: Savior of the Galaxy."
"Now it all makes sense," Luffa said. "You went into hiding after our last encounter, then you packed up your kingdom and left before I could find you. You knew you'd lose support among your idiot subjects, so you whipped up this scam of yours and promised to make Saiyans stronger in exchange for their loyalty. I had heard 'Trismegistus' sent his cult to invade 'Rehval's' kingdom, but I guess that was all just a ruse to cover your tracks."
"You don't sound very impressed with that," Rehval said.
Luffa turned her head and spat on the ground. "You really do have no pride at all do you? A true Saiyan wouldn't resort to potions and magic to make themselves stronger! It wasn't enough for you to pollute your own body with that sort of filth. Now you've tricked others into making the same mistake!"
"Tricked them?" Rehval asked with a laugh. "They all came to me. Many of them despised my rule, but they sought me out anyway, all because they craved greater power. " He held up Aonorry in his palm. "This one, for example. She was like you, once. She hated the monarchy that my grandfather started. She wanted nothing to do with King Rehval. Ah, but once she heard about the miracle of Jindan, and how its creator, Trismegistus, led an attack on King Rehval's stronghold, she became fascinated. She did everything she could to find it. I didn't make the trail easy to find, Luffa. It was a test of determination. But my beloved Aonorry passed."
"And what does she think now?" Luffa asked. "Now that she knows she's bound herself to the same king she opposed?"
"Let's find out," Rehval suggested. Without warning, he dropped his prophet, allowing her to fall hundreds of feet to the ground.
"Bastard!" Luffa snarled as she flew up to catch her. As she did, Rehval pointed his enormous earthen hand down at them and fired a beam of energy.
"You're so predictable, Luffa," he said. "For all your talk of warrior pride, you can be so soft that it's pitiful. Was it really worth dying just now so that you could save an enemy?"
When the light from his attack faded, he saw no trace of the Saiyan women. Then he noticed something on his mountainous shoulder, and he looked over to find Luffa standing there, holding Aonorry's unconscious form in her arms. Before he could react, Luffa opened her mouth and a stream of golden ki energy blasted him in the face.
"Predict this!" she shouted when she was finished. Then she stamped her foot down onto Rehval's rocky shoulder. The force was so great that a crack formed, and slowly expanded. As Luffa jumped away, Rehval's right arm began to break loose from his body, and then it fell off completely.
*******
Luffa flew until she reached a lake, then hovered just inches above it. Satisfied that Rehval wasn't chasing her, she dunked Aonorry's head into the water.
"Wake up, idiot!" Luffa shouted. "Your precious master finally showed up. Any ideas on what his plan is?"
"Whuh-what?" Aonorry sputtered as the cold water brought her around. "Trismegistus is here?"
"Yeah, well most people know him as 'King Rehval', though I've heard that's not his real name either," Luffa said. She tossed Aonorry onto the lakeshore and waited for her to get her bearings. "He's been playing you for a fool this whole time. You and everyone else in the Jindan cult."
"He really did come for me," Aonorry said, now holding her hands over her cheeks. "And... after I was ready to betray him. Oh... oh my..."
"He was counting on you to betray him," Luffa said. "The bastard's been toying with you, and he lied to you the whole time! Loyalty means nothing to him!"
Luffa had more unkind words to say about King Rehval, but before she could speak them, the ground began to shake beneath them, and then another column of earth and rock began to rise up and shape itself into a humanoid form.
"Luffa, Luffa, Luffa," Rehval's voice boomed. "When will you ever learn?"
Luffa left Aonorry where she was and charged her ki before leaping headlong into Rehval's stone belly. She made a crater on the surface, and knocked him off balance. Without pausing, she flew around him, peppering his body with golden energy blasts as she went. To an outside observer, it might have looked like a man being pestered by some glowing yellow hummingbird.
She blasted his face again, and when he tried to reshape it from the remaining rock, she kept blasting it. At the same time, she focused on his legs, damaging them enough that he had trouble staying upright.
"You can't defeat him!" Aonorry cried out. The unfettered joy in her voice made Luffa sick, but she pressed on in spite of it. He's become one with the very earth itself! You would have to destroy the entire planet, and you still wouldn't win!"
"She's right, you know," Rehval boasted. "I'm not actually here, as I said before. You need the atmosphere to breathe, but I don't. And as long as the planet is in tact--"
Luffa finally put enough cracks in his body that it crumbled into pieces. A short distance away, she could already hear another rock-body assembling itself.
"He rises!" Aonorry wailed. "His glory rises, now and forever!"
"As I was saying," Rehval said as his third body sprouted its new mouth. "As long as the planet is in tact, I can fight you like this indefinitely."
"Gosh, I'd better surrender then," Luffa grumbled. "Is that what you want me to say?"
"Actually, no," Rehval said. He clenched his fists, and suddenly a ball of violet light appeared in front of his rocky chest. Before Luffa could dodge, he unleashed its power in her direction, and she had to catch the front of the energy wave in her hands.
"Our confrontation on Pflaume was an experiment, Luffa," Rehval explained while she struggled to hold back the blast. "I thought that if I stranded you on an ice giant, you would be neutralized completely. No air to breathe, no surface to stand upon, no ships to rescue you. That last one was the flaw in my plan. I was sure your wife would abandon you, but not so."
Luffa was pushed back by the energy beam until she felt her boots press into the ground. This gave her something to brace against for support, but it also reminded her that she had very little margin for error. She set her jaw and screwed her eyes shut as she summoned up more power to halt the beam's advance.
"I had to evacuate Planet Saiya," Rehval went on. "I knew that if you escaped Pflaume, the planet would never survive your counterattack. Fortunately, I had a redoubt prepared on a planet in a secret location, just in case of emergency. And while I was there, it occurred to me how dependent I am on planets and atmospheres. So are you, but you can just fly from place to place in your ship, like a mercenary. Very romantic, but a king needs a kingdom, and a kingdom needs earth to stand upon."
Luffa finally mustered the strength to deflect the attack, and with a mighty yell, she flung it up into the sky, where it exploded harmlessly in the upper atmosphere. But this left her wide open to a punch from the rock creature that spoke with Rehval's voice. The impact cratered the ground, and the Rehval-monster ground his fist into the center, like a child killing a beetle.
"A foundation, Luffa," he continued. "Without a solid rock to build upon, the builder is helpless. That was when I realized the error in my thinking. On Pflaume, I left you to fall into sinking sand, when what I needed to be doing was securing myself upon a solid rock. That realization led me to realize how much we owe the ground beneath us, and how powerful it truly is. I knew that if I made that power my own, I could defeat anyone, even the Legendary Super Saiyan."
Nearby, Aonorry was chanting some a prayer in support of Trismegistus. The earthen creature smiled as it sensed a victory, and then a tremendous explosion went off at his fist. The giant figure toppled backwards, and when Rehval looked at his arm, it was simply... gone.
Luffa emerged from the smoke of the blast, already preparing her next move. "Rehval," she said. "You talk too much."
What followed was a rapid-fire barrage. Dozens of golden blobs of energy launched out of Luffa's fingertips, and embedded themselves onto Rehval's avatar. He expected them to explode on contact, but instead, she swung her left hand upward, and he found himself being dragged upwards. The ki she had affixed to his body was pulling him into the air.
"I don't know how you pulled this off, Rehval," Luffa said, "but I'm curious to see what your limits are with this monster body you've got. "Can you attack me with two of them at once? Because so far I've only seen you make a new body after the old one gets wrecked."
"Your... nnf! Your overconfidence is your weakness," Rehval said as he struggled against the force pulling him towards the sky.
"Look who's talking," Luffa replied. "You sprang this trap and gloated about it the whole time you were fighting, and where's it gotten you? You probably never even considered that I was studying your power the entire time, did you?"
He managed to spin around and point his remaining arm at Luffa, but she squeezed her hand into a fist, and the energy blobs on that arm suddenly exploded, blasting it into dust.
"What now?" she asked. "You've got to make a new body now, since you can't do much with that one."
"You underestimate me... Luffa!" Rehval said. His body began to shift and reshape itself, until it finally sprouted a new pair of arms. But unlike before, this caused the main body to become smaller than it had been before.
Luffa responded by squeezing her fist again, and blasting off his legs. The remainder of his body began to fall, but she caught it by enveloping the bulk of his form in a sheath of golden light.
"I think I'm getting the idea," Luffa said. "You can't absorb more mass unless you're in direct contact with the planet. And cutting off an arm or a leg doesn't help you, because those pieces aren't 'alive' on their own, so much as they're controlled by the main body. Or maybe just the head. "
"Well done, Luffa," Rehval said. "You're as magnificent as ever, and just as dangerous. I can still use you in my plans, but I can't afford to trust you, not after you spurned my offer before."
"Trust? Trust?!" Luffa shouted. "You honorless jackal! You don't even know the meaning of the word! Using that idiot Aonorry as your pawn! Sending this... this proxy to fight me in your place! When I find you--the real you-- I'll--"
Her threat was suddenly cut off by Aonorry herself, who had managed to sneak up on Luffa while she was busy restraining Rehval in midair. The point of her short spear nearly connected with Luffa's neck, but she sensed her approach just in the nick of time, and caught her in a choke hold.
"Your 'master' is more desperate than I thought," Luffa snarled. Without hesitation, she broke Aonorry's neck to prevent any further distractions. But in the moment it took her to do this, Rehval built up his power again, and this time turned it in on himself. Before Luffa could react, before Aonorry's corpse could even fall to the surface, his rock-body exploded in midair, and only moments later, a new rock-Rehval was rising up from the ground.
"You killed my prophetess," Rehval said, sounding only mildly annoyed. "I'll miss her."
"This game is getting tiresome, Rehval," Luffa said. "I've already figured out how to defeat you, so unless this next body can do something new, there's really no point in going on."
"You may be powerful, Luffa," Rehval said, "but you still think like a low-level mercenary. Do you think one battlefield means anything to me? I'm not even here. I could destroy this entire planet right now, and lose nothing. But I won't do that, because I have loftier goals in mind. I mean to change the universe, and that won't be achieved through mere destruction. Hexill VI has a place in my kingdom, like all worlds."
Luffa dove down and attacked one of Rehval's legs. As he swung his arms to catch her, she dodged and attacked those as well. But since he was touching the ground, he was able to repair this damage easily.
"Think about it, Luffa," he continued. "If I can send my avatar here, across hundreds of light years, then I can do the same on any number of planets. Without warning, a graven image of me rises up from the ground, powerful enough to defeat almost anything, powerful enough to impose my will, or destroy the planet entirely. And by the time you arrive in your ship to stop me, I'm already gone."
Luffa formed a razor-thin disc of ki and launched it at the neck of Rehval. It only carved a small section away, but when she followed up with a Gallick Gun, this was enough to blast the head off of the body. She then snared it in an energy sheath and pulled it up into the sky. Below, the headless body didn't move. Luffa fired another ki blast to destroy it, but never stopped her flight.
"You think you can sever my connection to the planet with distance, is that it?" Rehval asked. "Well, so what if you can? I only chose Hexill VI to make a point, Luffa. I wanted you to see exactly what I can do. What I've become."
"Tell me where you're hiding, Rehval," Luffa said. "I'll only ask you once."
"And why should I tell you that?" Rehval asked.
"Because I'm going to kill you either way," she said. "Painfully, if I can. You're going to die, but if you tell me where to find you, I can get it over with. Save you some sleepless nights."
"That's very kind of you," Rehval said. "But no. Come and find me, if you can. I'll be waiting. And if you can't find me, don't worry. You'll be hearing from me sooner than you think."
Luffa suddenly raised her arms, and with a loud grunt, she swung the net of energy around the head, flinging it up into space. She watched it shrink into the distance, then flew back down to the ground to make certain Rehval had not rebuilt his avatar. She only found the broken remains of the last body that she had decapitated. She incinerated it with a ki blast. Satisfied that her business here was concluded, she flew back to inform the planet's leaders about what had happened.
*******
An hour later, Luffa was sitting in the cockpit of the light cruiser she had borrowed from the Federation Starfleet to get here. She had orbited the planet a few times, just in case there was any chance of Rehval somehow returning, but at last she decided it was safe to depart. She would have to contact the Federation and alert them of the situation, but first she removed her boot and examined the injury on her left foot. Dr. Topsas had treated the wound days ago, but it would take some time to heal properly, and she was doing it no favors by constantly heading out into battle. Somewhat painfully, she applied an ointment he had given her. It was supposed to help promote healing and prevent infection, but at times she thought it hurt worse than the attack that had made the wound in the first place.
She was weary, not so much from her wounds or physical exhaustion, but from the lack of a decisive victory. Up to now, this had been a war of attrition, and Luffa's hope was that if she steadily chipped away at the lackeys, it would force the leaders out of hiding. But if Rehval could strike remotely, with no risk to his own person, then... what?
Luffa leaned back the pilot's chair as far as it would go and began rubbing her temples. There was a solution to this puzzle--there always was-- but she was too frustrated to find it. For now, the best she could do was to report in with her allies, set the ship to autopilot, and take a nap during the flight home. With any luck, the next cultist attack would be on the opposite side of the Federation, giving her more time to rest--
Then she saw the red light blinking on the comm system, and she realized that someone was trying to contact her. Some small part of her wanted to ignore the light, to pretend she hadn't seen it, but she cursed that part of herself and opened the channel just to spite her own weakness.
There was no audio or video, just a text message that had been encrypted with a code used by the Saiyan Free Company, led by Princess Seltiss. The girl had formed the company to fill the power vacuum left behind when her father had disappeared, and she had allied herself with the Federation because she saw Trismegistus and his cult as a threat to Saiyan-kind. As Luffa entered her password to decrypt the code, she wondered how the princess would react to the news that Rehval and Trismegistus were the same man.
Those thoughts vanished as Luffa read the message: "ALL AVAILABLE FORCES TO FEDENDER SYSTEM. URGENT. SURPRISE ATTACK. ENEMY STRENGTH UNKNOWN. UNIDENTIFIED ALIEN COMBATANTS LED BY A LARGE CREATURE MADE OF ROCK. EOM."
The terse statement was like a punch to Luffa's gut. She had just rescued the Fedender System before rushing off to help Hexill, and Fedender was already under attack again? And Rehval... he had told Luffa that she would hear from him sooner than she expected.
"Well, that's a first, you miserable bastard," Luffa seethed as she set course for Fedender. "You actually told the truth for once."
NEXT: Doublethink
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fictober - day nine
Prompt #9: “It has a certain taste.”
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe (Thor, Guardians of the Galaxy)
Warnings: Grief
Rating: T
Characters: Thor Odinson & Rocket Raccoon
Words: 1674
Author’s Note: set in the near vicinity (1-3 months) post endgame.
>>Snøsøte on the Mountains
The Milano was scheduled for planet departure in a little over forty earth minutes, and no one had seen Thor in six hours.
They’d landed on Krylor three days ago so that Rocket could make some much-needed repairs to the ship—Krylorians were famous for their psionic-guided engines and other advancements in interstellar flight—and Rocket was convinced he could use his reputation as “savior of the universe” to schmooze as much free tech out of them as possible. In his defense, it had been going stunningly well until Drax accidentally offended half the local government being, well, Drax.
The need to leave on time had increased significantly after that.
Rocket sat in the copilot’s chair, inspecting the hyper-wave bomb he’d lifted off the security guard that’d escorted him out.
“Rocket.”
He vaguely registered Quill’s voice, but decided it probably wasn’t important. Instead, he turned the bomb around until his claws found the seam. He huffed in triumph, then flipped it upside down and pried off the base.
It immediately lit up and started beeping.
“Mother of—”
Rocket chucked it at Drax, but it bounced harmlessly off his head and rolled to the floor. It glowed briefly, then powered down.
Drax didn’t even wake up.
“Huh.” Rocket crawled out of his chair and snatched up the orb. He bet he could reverse engineer the power core with some of those lame lithium-ion batteries he’d stolen from Rhodey last week.
“Rocket!”
He winced and flattened his ears back against his head. “Geez, what, Quill? You trying to wake up the whole sector?”
“If that’s what it takes to get your attention, then yes.” Quill closed the map he’d been looking at and walked to the front of the ship, stopping in front of Rocket. “Thor still hasn’t shown up, and he isn’t answering his comm.”
Rocket poked at one of the wires and was immediately shocked for his efforts. He swore and shook his hand vigorously, glaring up at Quill. “Yeah, and?”
“And I’d like to leave this planet in one piece, which means on time. We’re not exactly on the hottest terms with the locals.”
Rocket frowned. “I’m sorry, I seem to remember that being Drax’s fault. I don’t see you asking him about electro boy.”
“That’s because Drax is an idiot.”
Rocket snorted and tried to slip past. “Guess that explains why you’re not doing it yourself, either.”
“Rocket.”
“He’s a big guy! He can take care of himself.”
“He is sad.”
Both Quill and Rocket turned as Mantis appeared in the doorway. “I do not know what is wrong.”
Quill gave Rocket his best I told you so look and Rocket crossed his arms over his chest. “I still don’t see why that means I have to go get him.”
Groot, who hadn’t even bothered to look up from his console the entire trip, chose that moment to stare at Rocket with his obnoxiously sincere eyes. “I am Groot?”
Rocket deflated and tossed the grenade at Quill, who yelped and dropped the datapad he’d been holding to catch it. “Use this if things go south before I get back.”
Groot smirked. “I am Groot.”
“Yeah, yeah. I get it,” Rocket said, taking the datapad for himself. He sighed. “I’m the captain.”
_________________________
Krylorians are deathly allergic to all forms of alcohol, so that ruled out the normal kinds of places the Asgardian would frequent. Fortunately for Rocket, however, the Milano’s energy sensors are one system he’d managed to get updated before Drax blew his street cred. He tapped in a few commands and the system recalibrates to perform a city-wide search for the weird, low-grade electricity signature Thor always seemed to give off.
The wavelength was nowhere to be found in the city, but widening it to include the nearby geography quickly solved the problem.
“Hey Quill,” he said into his comm as he grabbed a jetpack from the Milano’s storage, “How long do you think you can delay that take off for?”
“How long do you like living?”
Rocket didn’t bother responding. Quill was an idiot, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t good at bullshitting excuses.
He exited the Milano and flew to the outskirts of town, keeping an eye on the map. It took him twenty minutes to approach the location, mostly because of the rain, and Thor’s marker didn’t move the entire time.
He knew Thor got moody around the anniversary of the snap—who didn’t—but that was reversed now and anyway, that date wasn’t for another three months.
He finally found the Asgardian sitting on the edge of a rocky outcrop, his legs hanging down and hands folded in his lap, looking out over the coastline. Rocket landed next to him, rain water soaking his fur and dripping onto the hard surface. Thor smiled in greeting.
“Rabbit!” The man spoke with the level of exuberance he reserved for when he was feeling truly miserable. “How goes your quest for the finest technology this side of the galaxy?”
“Not so great, actually,” Rocket said, hiding under one of the larger rocks and shaking off. "We kinda need you back at the ship.”
“…Ah.” Thor made no move to get up. “A shame, really.”
Rocket was still trying to de-clump his fur. “What? You got something against being dry?”
“No.” A chuckle, likely at the expense of Rocket’s struggling. “But nothing against being wet, either.”
Rocket gave up and stepped back into the rain, and noticed Thor was rotating something between his fingers. “What’s that?”
Thor blinked in surprise and looked down, as if he himself had forgotten the item.
“This is Yggdrasil,” he said, carefully placing it in Rocket’s palm so the raccoon could get a better look at it. “The great tree of life, out of which Asgard was grown.”
Rocket turned the figure from side to side. It was small, barely bigger than his own paw, and felt like Terran marble. The trunk of the tree fused into the bottom of a cylindrical city ringed with mountains, and three branches curved up and around its base to form a domed top. In the center of the city rose the spire of a magnificent palace, and out of that, the rest of the tree: nine branches in all.
Rocket handed the carving back. “Asgard, huh?”
“Mm. It was the crown jewel of the Nine Realms.” Thor looked at the tree, then tucked it away in one of the pouches on his belt. “Home of the first root of Yggdrasil.”
“Seems fancy.” Rocket curled his tail under him and sat down beside Thor, though his legs weren’t quite long enough to hang off the edge. “They just called my planet Halfworld.”
“Oh, I’m sure it was a very whole planet in its own right. Not anywhere near as impressive as Asgard, but still.”
“No, that was literally its—look, nevermind, that isn’t the point.”
The planet’s sun was beginning to set, casting the sky into deep shades of green, blue, and purple—a sharp contrast to the pale yellow of the day.
Thor sighed. “This place reminds me of my home.”
“…You sure?”
Thor laughed and clapped Rocket on the back, nearly hurling him off the ledge in the process. “My apologies, Rabbit! I forget sometimes that you, too, have seen Asgard.” His countenance fell. “But it is not merely the geography that makes up a place.”
Rocket’s eyebrows knitted together and Thor smiled. “My father said that to me, right before Ragnarok.”
“A what rock?”
“It’ll be six years tomorrow, actually,” Thor said, continuing as if Rocket hadn’t spoken. “Six years since I had to destroy my homeworld.”
Thunder cracked in the distance and Rocket suddenly wondered if the rain wasn’t just by chance.
“There are much more important things to mourn, of course. Mostly people. Lots of those.” Thor shrugged. “Still.”
Rocket shifted. His fur was completely soaked through, and the sunset meant the temperature was dropping. Quill probably needed them back to the ship as soon as possible.
But he was the captain.
“You said this place reminds you of Asgard?”
Thor looked at him in surprise. “So it does.”
“Gotta say I can’t see it, but, you were there longer, so.” Rocket leaned back on his paws. “Explain it if you want.”
The smallest of smiles appeared on Thor’s face. He turned towards the violet-coloured sea, watching the waves crash into the coastline. “It’s true that the appearances aren’t very similar. I’m sure you’re correct about Krylo being technologically advanced, but stylistically they seem very lacking.”
“Harsh, but continue.”
Thor laughed, and took in a deep breath. “It’s not about the visuals at all, really. It’s in the way the air feels.”
Rocket frowned. “The… air.”
“Indeed, Rabbit.” He closed his eyes. “There’s a certain… taste to it, almost. Fresh and crisp. Metallic, though not badly. The barest touch of salt from the sea.”
“Sounds like you knew the place pretty well,” Rocket said, thinking of his own distorted memories. “Shame I didn’t get to see more of it.”
A hopeful look appeared in Thor’s eyes. He rose to his feet, offering a hand to Rocket. “Perhaps I could tell you more on our journey back?”
“Better than listening to Quill whine, so sure.” Rocket accepted the hand and climbed up onto the man’s shoulder. “What was this Asgard of yours like.”
Thor thought of the palace, its golden spire glistening in the moonlight, even as the heart of the city cast its own light from below. The churning waterfalls at the edge of the world he and Loki had explored as children, always with the careful eye of Heimdal guarding them. Sunlight streaming through the great, gilded archways that had been so lavishly sculpted as his people bustled through. Lignonberry jelly on toast, shaved salads with dulse at the evening náttverðr, his mother’s pönnukökur for breakfast. Snøsøte blooming in the mountains, its rich, deep-blue petals stark against the fresh white snow.
Thor smiled, and twirling his hammer, launched both of them into the air.
“It was beautiful.”
#fictober19#tw:grief#thor odinson#rocket raccoon#mcu fanfic#thor fic#fanfiction#yes that really is the name of rocket's homeworld#memsfic
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Steps on the Bifrost
Merry Nagamas @andthenalittledash--here’s your @nagamas gift! Can I just say—thank you so much for mentioning you like Laslow/Azura, because it is one of my favourite Fates ships and you gave me the excuse to finally sit down and write about them! (This also got a lot longer than I expected it to, haha.)
[AO3 Link]
The Nohrian army advances along the path to a hollow victory, and even those who know there is a greater enemy left unchallenged cannot help but by swept along by the tides of war, and the circumstances chosen for them.
Anankos had barely stopped toying with Takumi’s shell when she fled the throne room, great slashes of sapphire already beginning to rip their way up her arms and crawl their way across her face. She should have realised that her beloved would follow her, but some part of her, deep and cold and chosen second too many times before, had presumed he’d stay at his lord’s side. It would have been a cruel parting to be sure, but no matter the hours she’d agonised over the comfort or kiss she might have given him, she still had not the words to say goodbye.
Even so, it was his arms she found herself in when she toppled over, exhausted; a mockery of a dip, like this was just another evening of dance practice. His clothes soaked through where her body touched his, and when she peered up at him through eyes half-shut in pain, she saw that his face was horror-struck.
“Hey. Smile for me, won’t you?” she asked, before he could demand an explanation. Her own smile was bright as she could make it. “That’s what you always ask of me, isn’t it?”
His face was still desperate as he balanced her with one arm and started rummaging through his pockets like his life depended on it. Medicines were useless in the case of curses, as she’d been told when she was a child and had asked why she couldn’t let the water dance in a constant rhythm, but Azura couldn’t find the energy within her to make him stop, nor the heart.
“Smile for me. Please,” she said, with gentle insistence.
Inigo smiled, though his eyes were glimmering and it was clearly forced. A lot of his smiles were, and she mourned that she wouldn’t see a real one before it was all over, but it was better than nothing.
“That’s right. Lovely.”
***
“Did you ever think about what you’d name your children?”
The copse of trees muffled the sounds of camp around them, creating the illusion they were, if not alone, cut off from everyone else. Laslow paused, still bent over with the laces of his dancing slipper only half-tied.
“I never really considered such a thing,” he said. He finished the knot, flexed his feet, and, satisfied, straightened back up. “Though I suppose…”
He considered, for a long moment.
“Soleil.”
“Soleil?” The name was unfamiliar to her. “It’s pretty, but why that name?”
Laslow stood. He moved his right foot behind him and let his whole body lean back onto it, stretching his arms out to the sides and up, in a wide, circular arc. His hands, palms upwards, halted level with his head.
“The soleil is a movement from a certain school of dance back home.” He remained in the position for a moment longer before letting his arms drop and stepping back into a normal stance. “It symbolises being bathed in sunlight, or just the sun in general. I’ve always liked it.”
Back home, again, with no name. The urge to ask him where his home was grabbed at her yet again, stronger this time, but she stopped herself. He couldn’t tell her about this mysterious back home, just as she couldn’t tell him about Valla, be it of old or be it of the ruin beneath their feet.
“It’s always a pleasure to see the sun rise again, after all. How about you?”
Azura ignored all the old family names that occurred to her and chose another: “Shigure.” It had always struck her as a good name.
“Shigure?”
She smiled. “A light shower of rain.”
“My, it seems we truly are fated. What do you say to Rainbow for our third?”
Even as she joined him in laughter, she couldn’t help but recall that there was a Vallite name that would have been perfect for such a theme: Iris, after one of Valla’s first queens.
“What’s with the sudden curiosity?” he asked. “Interested in starting a family?”
She sent him a coy smile. Laslow’s cheeks burnt red and he averted his gaze, but then a wistful look came over him.
“You know,” he said, voice melancholy, “I lost my true family when I was a child. I was able to find something resembling it, but it’s not the same.” His face, if still a little embarrassed, was soft when he looked back over at her. “It would be nice, to create one together.”
She considered telling him she’d lost her family too, but given that he was retainer to a man who called himself her brother, that path would have led to nothing but more questions she couldn’t answer.
“I never really felt as though I belonged with the Nohrians, nor the Hoshidans,” she said instead. It was a poor substitute, but true enough, in its own way. “Not like Corrin does. Having a family together would be nice, I think.”
Laslow smiled; she couldn’t help returning it. It fell off his face, though, and an odd expression replaced it.
“Did I ever tell you that I come from somewhere far away? Very far.” He hesitated, clearly formulating what he was going to say next carefully. “If I were to go back, I would never be able to return. Would you—would you want to go with me?”
It was an unexpected question; the surprise must have shown on her face, because his blush spread even further over his cheeks and he stammered as he quickly rushed to explain himself.
“You don’t have to, of course—it’s just that, since you told me you don’t really feel like you fit in Nohr and Hoshido, perhaps we could make a fresh start? You, me, however many Soleils or Shigures or Rainbows we’ll have. We could visit my parents—my other parents—they’d be there too, and I’m so sure you’d like them.”
The look on his face was so tentative that her heart ached. For a moment, she fantasised about what it could have been like in a world where she might have made the same offer—offered even more than he could. But becoming royalty of Valla, that ruin with little chance of restoration, was more a curse than anything else now.
The wind rippled through the trees.
“That sounds lovely,” she said.
Laslow breathed out beside her, but before he could speak again she started to hum an old Vallite tune all the talk of the weather had reminded her of; it had once been a thanksgiving to Anankos, so she skipped over the verses of praise and onto how the dragon’s tears had first met with the fires of creation to forge the first bridge to the world above. (The existence of Valla was implicit, something so fundamentally understood mentioning it by name was unnecessary; it was just here.)
Laslow began to sway with the rhythm, and a few bars in, he began to dance.
***
Azura had never been close to her Nohrian family, in the literal as well as metaphorical sense. As the campaign wore on, however, that which Azura had always believed, but hoped was inaccurate—that the Hoshidans had little regard for her either—became a certainty. Kindness, likely performed on Queen Mikoto’s behalf and out of some sense of charity, was not closeness. It helped to think that way anyway, now that she was fighting on the side that had killed Takumi and were likely to slay the others too.
Still, if there had been a distance with Queen Mikoto’s own children, the average Hoshidan soldier cared even less for her wellbeing; she was nothing but another Nohrian now that Corrin had defected, as had been made clear to her when they’d torn her from the castle at Shirasagi and tried leaving her corpse at Fort Dragonfall as a message. (They were the same in theory, the two of them, hostages to the light and the dark, but it was always going to be Corrin’s choices that mattered, not hers.)
The lance fighters bearing down on her, venom in their eyes and curses on their lips, were not the first Hoshidans to try and rip her apart, but it was looking more and more certain they’d be the last. She considered, briefly, sapping their will to fight through song. There may have been no time left to stop the momentum of their thrusts, even if she were to relax their hearts enough to stop beating, and it might have been yet another waste of the pendant’s power, but still, even knowing it was of no use, she curled around herself and the stone on her chest, and would have begun to sing—
But there was a thicket, now. She looked on in confusion, slowly unfolding out of her defensive stance. The branches twisted around the soldiers like tentacles of some great octopus. They shouted and struggled as it devoured them, tangled in the thorns.
“They’re going to get out,” said Laslow, behind her. She turned. His hands were rooted in the earth and his voice was urgent and low. “It won’t hold them much longer.”
She stared at him; she couldn’t help it. His eyes were downcast, his hands and body trembling, as though he was unused to using the veins. It had truly been a secret then, from everybody, not just from her.
She turned, in a daze, and with a swipe of her lance, the skirmish was over. (Corrin would likely not approve, but Corrin didn’t know what it was Jakob did in the aftermath of battle, nor that Laslow had the dragon’s blood, nor the true depth of Xander’s emotions, nor the woman her mother had truly been. This would be one thread of a wide web of secrets and lies and deceptions; nothing, really.)
Laslow gasped and let go. The thicket receded, slowly and at an ambling pace, like it was an animal that had lost interest in the humans playing with it. She moved to kneel beside him, the movement half a stumble in the rush to get over to him. She snatched up his right hand with her own red-stained ones. There was dirt under his fingernails—he hadn’t taken care when he’d plunged them into the ground, it seemed—and even now, his arms were shaking. He gently touched her face with his other hand, its faint tremors all the more obvious when they were against her skin. Their eyes met for a long moment.
“They were going to kill you,” he said, the response to an unasked question.
They looked at one another for a moment longer before she kissed him, fleeting but without haste, and left the matter at that, helping one another to their feet and moving onward to the rest of the enemies they’d been tasked with eliminating. She wasn’t one to pry. She’d have been the worst kind of hypocrite if she was.
Still, when the battle was done, after they’d both remained silent on the subject of Hoshidan combatants found dead with deep scratches all over their corpses and they lay tangled together themselves, Laslow asleep, she lay awake with thoughts darting around her head like shoals of fish, this way and that. Her eyes idly tracked the veins which ran blue down his wrists and into his freshly-scrubbed hands.
A dozen thoughts had occurred to her, though only one had stayed lodged in her mind all this time; the first, in fact, that had sprung to mind when she’d seen his hands buried in the soil.
He’d once told her that he wasn’t supposed to exist in her world, though he couldn’t tell her why he came to be there, or how. She’d told him she understood, and she indeed had done, since she was under a similar obligation.
Maybe—
She touched his wrist lightly, just over the blue veins, and felt him come awake.
***
Once, when she had been the most wretched child among dozens of wretched children imprisoned within the circular walls of the royal keep at Windmire, Azura had experienced the most curious dream. Figures dressed in Vallite robes of the purest white had crowded around her in a version of Valla that no longer existed, each and every one vowing, with all the zeal of a holy mission, to ensure her happiness. They had enveloped her with such kindness and good cheer that when she awoke, her chest had felt light for the first time in months.
Beneath the open sky in a world at war, it had been a surprise to experience the dream once again: she was older now, after all, and had thought herself to have shrugged off the childish need for false comfort. The old figures had appeared before her tiny form once more—she’d still been a child in this new dream; it had felt natural in the way everything in dreams comes naturally—and a man, young and handsome, had kissed her on the forehead and promised a lifetime of smiles before sweeping her into one of the dances she’d been taught before the devastation, the traditional choral accompaniment that could not possibly exist in a reality where there were barely enough uncorrupted Vallites to form a duet soaring so clear and strong that her dream-self knew they could hear it in the world above.
What she had shivered at in daylight, even as it had felt natural in the dream in the way everything in dreams feels natural, was that the figures surrounding them were as distant and illusory as the soldiers that haunted Valla’s remnants, and the song to which they’d danced had included those verses she had suppressed in her memory, praise of the great Anankos echoing all around them over and over and over.
***
“I’ve taken stranger leaps of faith,” was Laslow’s only response.
She held his hand in her own, her fingers entwined with his. The water was hers to command, for however much longer she had; it would have taken and protected Laslow quite ably had she asked it, but she knew her touch would soothe any fears of drowning he might have had.
She pulled them through the water easily. At first, they were boneless as turtles gliding along a jet stream, but then she pulled them through faster, and faster, until they were darting down and down with such speed and grace that she imagined a current in their wake.
When they emerged the other end, falling out of the water in the same manner one might have fallen into it in the world above, she took Laslow into her arms and stayed with him in the air for a few breaths longer than necessary; a moment of self-indulgence, the water holding them up there to hover with all the rubble of Valla like a pair of courting dragonflies. She then let the water slowly start to disperse, the two of them floating down to the ground as a bubble does, landing elegantly together on their feet.
It was an unnecessary use of the pendant’s power, of course. Still, she’d used it so many times now, for Nohr and for Hoshido and for Corrin; if it was too late for her to aid in the fight against Anankos, if that fight would ever come, what was a moment of unleashing the pendant’s magic for herself, to will the water to dance around them and see how it would turn her beloved’s face into something akin to a dazed mortal gazing upon her like an oceanic goddess, a creature of power and majesty?
Besides, those priestesses who’d lectured her about restraint were all dead, Anankos’ puppets, or both. What did they know?
“You make the water dance almost as beautifully as you,” said Laslow. There was a slight stagger to his movements, and he leant back against one of the few pieces of stonework still anchored to the ground.
“None dance as finely as you but the water, love,” she said, smile transforming into a full grin, the ecstasy of the power and the water obeying her making her feel buoyant. “I just thought to give you a suitable accompaniment.”
“So, you were the Nestrian dancer, then,” he said. “I thought it might be. The way she moved, the steps she used, they were too familiar.”
“You’re not going to turn me in for the assassination attempt of our king, then?”
Perhaps it was the power still coursing through her, or perhaps it was because she knew Laslow, and knew who he’d pick between that dastard and herself, but she stared at him, unflinching.
“It was dangerous. If they’d found you—”
“Nobody guessed it was me,” she said. “None but you have the same eye for footwork, it seems. Not even my hair gave the game away. I did consider a wig, but there was no time to find one, and I thought it would be fine as is.”
Gods, but it felt good to talk without second-guessing every word.
Laslow still looked concerned, so she changed topic. “This is Valla,” she said to someone else for the first time in years. “This is my home. This is where I grew up. This is the kingdom Anankos destroyed.”
“So, you are a Vallite, after all. That’s why you’ve not been able to talk freely.”
“Is it why you haven’t been able to talk freely?”
Laslow hesitated before nodding. “Yes. I’ve known of it for years, though I’m not a Vallite myself.” A wave of disappointment hit Azura, but she weathered it. Laslow was still hers, no matter from whence he came. Besides, that he knew of Valla at all, that they’d shared this knowledge and curse together, was more than she could have ever hoped.
“How can you use dragon veins?”
She would have begged the gods he’d not mention Anankos’ name, but she’d never taken any god but the Silent Dragon, and he was now the enemy.
“Anankos gave us his blood.”
Rage bit into her heart. So, he was with Anankos. After all that had happened, after knowing she would never face him herself and make him answer for what he’d done, he’d managed to steal something else; her family, her home, and her lover, all warped.
“Anankos,” she said. It came out in a hiss, the sibilance continuing on a moment too long, serpentine.
Laslow reached out to touch her, but stopped short when she straightened and fixed him with a righteous glare.
“Anankos killed my father, you know. They were friends, once, but then he went mad and killed him. He turned the Vallites into these things. He turned Valla into this. And still, you’ve taken his side?” She thrust an arm out; the water moved with her. “You’ve taken his side?”
Laslow wouldn’t meet her eyes, no matter how she tried to capture them.
“My mother and father were killed by a dragon too,” he said. His voice was slow, and quiet. “He wasn’t mad, I don’t think, but I don’t know why else he did what he did. He ravaged the land, killed everyone he came across. He killed my mother and father, though they were friends with him once as well, or at least with the man he was. The greatest of friends. Anankos gave them the graves we couldn’t. And he let the flowers grow in that world once again.”
One tear, then another rolled down Laslow’s cheeks. Azura thought about wiping them away, but before she could move, he’d already dashed them away himself.
“It’s not the mad dragon we’re working for,” he said, voice steadier now. He finally met her gaze. “It was the remnants of his sanity we met. He gave us his blood, and we were to find and protect his daughter in Hoshido, though in the end, she’d been taken to Nohr.”
He paused.
“And we never found…”
He stopped.
“You found her,” said Azura. Somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to be surprised.
Her anger had subsided, somewhat, his tears and tale of woe dampening it into faintly-crackling embers, but years of bitter resentment and enmity for all those who would traffic with the god who had made her an exile were hard to wash away. She lapsed into silence, and stared out across the lake.
“There’s something you should know, if you hate Anankos so,” said Laslow. “Laslow is the name he gave me; it was something of an entry fee into this world.”
“Then what is your true name?”
“Inigo,” he said. He almost seemed shy, a faint blush coming over his features. Inigo. Somehow it fit him far more nicely than Laslow ever had.
“Inigo,” she said, trying it out on her tongue. “Inigo. A lovely name.”
Inigo smiled, but then a shadow crossed over his face. “There’s a way to get down here,” he said. “If we could bring Prince Xander here, perhaps we could stop the war.”
“There’s no stopping the war.”
“Xander is a reasonable man. If we can just tell him about Anankos—”
Tell them. Tell those under whose tender care she’d been left alone to rot in the dark, tormented, where if the Hoshidans hadn’t stolen her away, she would have met her death at another child’s blade, or by poison in a chalice; tell those for whom she was now trapped into fighting by Corrin’s decision (for Azura, who had lived her life among oaths and silent curses and prisons, had never been able to make a decision that mattered in her life.)
“It matters little if he’s reasonable,” she said. “Prince Takumi is dead. Queen Mikoto and King Sumeragi are dead. Nohrians are nothing but cutthroats and reprobates to the Hoshidans after all that has passed, and they’re far too stubborn to clasp hands with a nation of scoundrels, no matter who their common enemy might be. Garon would have Xander executed the moment he stepped out of line anyway. It’s too late. It’s too late.”
“Are you sure?” he asked.
Azura felt the cold bite of the pendant’s chain against her skin, and the faint but ever-present power that coursed through its core. No. No, I’m not.
“In my experience,” he said, a hard-won certainty on his face, “There’s always just a little more time left than you think.”
***
She closed her eyes, before feeling something smooth and round placed in her palm. She opened her eyes again, frowning. It was a small sphere, colours dancing around it like there was a rainbow trapped within.
“The mad dragon’s host sacrificed himself,” Inigo said, his voice weak and hold uncertain, like he wasn’t quite sure if he needed to stop her bursting or flying away. If he didn’t dry off soon, she noted vaguely, somewhere in the back of her mind, he’d catch a cold. “No matter how Father begged him not to. And still he got to come back. My parents ought to have died, and still they got live. There are worlds where fates can be averted. There are worlds where Anan—”
He gasped in pain as a sombre cheer rose in the distance, the Nohrians acknowledging their hollow victory. She felt his fingertips begin to drip where they rested upon her skin. Alarm shot through her and she scrabbled for his fingers—now that he’d shut up about the Silent Dragon, they were fine, though the tips of his fingers were gone along with part of his nails, down past the quick, water dripping from them like a mockery of blood.
“Please,” said Inigo. He whispered short pleas into her shoulder, abandoning all argument in favour of begging. Even without looking at his face she knew he looked wretched, his shoulders slumped and tears already starting to streak down his cheeks.
She touched the orb, weakly. Its aura was strong, but secure and protective, like the stories of the kindly god upon which she’d been raised. She traced its surface with a finger, watching the tracks of water left behind, then curled her hand around it.
“Laslow?” came Prince Xander’s voice. She raised her head and saw him walk through the door, a few more furrows in his brow and concern lurking beneath his usual stern expression. “Are you with—”
The last thing Azura ever witnessed of either the world above or below was Xander’s eyes landing on the pair of them and widening, everything warping and spasming as the two last hopes for the worlds above and below disappeared from his life as suddenly as they had entered it.
#fe14#nagamas#fe azura#fe laslow#fe inigo#fe anankos#there are some other ships implied here and other characters but they're v minor#dornishsphinx fanfiction
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I’d mentioned something about this a little bit ago, but there’s been something on my mind for a while, now, and I want to finally write something down. This is mostly because I was asked on the sidelines if I could make a post like this-- so here goes.
I’ll put most of this under a cut so anyone not interested can just scroll by without too much fuss, but first I’d like to say what this is all about.
Anxiety. Or, rather, how to not let it consume your life. Because we all experience it, most of us on a daily basis, but I’ve seen so few people actually do the right things to stop it from escalating to a critical point or try to do anything to manage it when they’re not in a critical mode. So, the rest of this will be cut for sake of length, but please:
If you have struggles with anxiety and recognize that it’s holding you back from enjoying any part of your life to the fullest extent, give the rest of this post a look over. These are honest, tried and true methods of reducing the impact of anxiety, both the obvious and less obvious, and I promise I wouldn’t offer them as suggestions unless I knew they’d have a beneficial impact on your overall health.
I’ll say this one last thing: if you’re thinking anything along the lines of ‘none of this will work for me’ or ‘my anxiety is too bad to do anything about without medication’ or ‘I’ve tried everything before and nothing really works so why bother’, then I’m speaking directly to you: please read the rest of this post. I don’t say it often, but you are so wrong.
Firstly, before I begin spewing out suggestions, everything I talk about here I have seen take a positive effect on both myself (dealing with bipolar depression and I’m sure other shit by this point) and people with severe intellectual disabilities (autism being the primary diagnosis), whom I support and work very closely with. I’ve also taken two college courses focused entirely on managing anxiety through very different strategies (mental vs physical activities) and a handful of others on building mindfulness, confidence, and self-image. Honestly, though, I’m drawing mostly from the former experiences because there’s nothing like seeing the words in action.
These techniques will be listed here only briefly because talking about each of them at length would make this an entire book. I might go into more detail in additional posts, if enough people would like me to or I’m feeling especially talkative another day. They are listed roughly in the order of most effective or most necessary, but honestly they all work in tandem with each other, so saying one is better than the other is a little misleading.
Attitude: We’ve all got it. Some are better than others, and some are just downright-- wait. Not that kind of attitude. I’m talking about our attitude towards our own mental health. I’m sure a lot of people believe they’re just supposed to suffer as much as they do or that it’s not really so bad and changing is too much effort. Essentially, the message is saying ‘I don’t care enough about myself to make the effort for my mental health’ no matter how you say it. Point blank, that’s a pretty shitty attitude to have, and no one wants to have a shitty attitude. No one likes feeling like shit, we just kind of get used to it and grow numb to it out of self defense against our own brains. Not the best habit to pick up. But one thing is certain: if you don’t believe you can help yourself and if you don’t believe you’re worth the effort, then nothing else is going to leave much of a mark. It all starts here, friends, and it’s usually the hardest step to take.
Deep breathing: Has to be next, doesn’t it? And it’s a very easy next step after that last one. The rules are very simple: block yourself off from outside stimuli (whether this means closing your eyes or fixating on a fixed spot in the distance to focus your attention or doing whatever you need to in order to take a minute to yourself); take a deep breath in through your nose for at least five but ideally seven seconds (breathe in so your stomach expands and not just your chest-- your shoulders shouldn’t rise more than they do when you’re yawning or sighing); hold the breath for up to three seconds; release your breath through your mouth slowly (take at least three but ideally five seconds) and make sure to fully push all of the air from your lungs. Repeat at least three times and up to ten times, depending on how high your stress and anxiety are at the time. The idea of the numbers is equal parts providing a structure so that the breath is under your control and providing a distraction from any other thoughts that might intrude. If you’re focusing entirely on counting the seconds of your breath or focusing on how the breath feels going in and out of your lungs, then you’re much less likely to worry about anything else. So don’t get too hung up on the specific numbers; understand their purpose and adjust them as you need to in order to fit your current situation. Do this before you go into a full-blown panic attack. It’s much more difficult to focus on deep breathing when you’re in panic mode, but taking a few deep breaths when you feel the first signs of something coming on could lessen or negate the physical and mental strain. Remember: It takes less than three minutes, even if you do all ten breaths, and there’s no equipment or special requirements. That makes this by far the easiest thing on this list to do, and the effects it can have are fucking mind-blowing.
Diet: Okay, maybe this will be the hardest step. But it doesn’t have to be! Diet changes can be huge, cold-turkey everything bad or small, subtle changes that ease you into a better lifestyle over the course of a few months or even a year. Both are totally cool! In fact, I’ve done both. There is so much I have to say about dieting, but I’ll list out the major points. Stop counting. I don’t care what it is, just stop counting it. Right now. Because guess what: you’re not counting the right things. Things you should be looking at? Sugar content. How processed the food is. Artificial flavoring and high fructose corn syrup. Things that really aren’t that important if you’re organizing your diet to be balanced and actually healthy? Fat content. Calories. What a coincidence. Also, eat breakfast. I know it means getting out of bed a little earlier, but for all that is good in this world, eat breakfast. Snack more often (not on potato chips; try some fruit), especially in the morning when your body is trying to balance out everything from the previous night (or, you know, whenever you sleep). Fruit, vegetables, nuts, protein bars (check that sugar content!), hard-boiled eggs, cottage cheese, and yogurt are all super easy and cheap snacks to grab and most of them are portable if you’re out and about often. Lunch doesn’t need to be big, but it needs to exist on some level. Heavy lunches will weigh you down and make you tired much earlier than you would be otherwise but no lunch will sap your energy and also leave you feeling drained earlier in the day. Dinner should be focused on protein and this is usually where people actually eat their vegetables, so keep that up! If you’re going to have a lot of empty carbs (like fries, mashed potatoes, rice, etc.), you better plan on having a post-dinner workout because guess where that belly fat is coming from. If you have anything to eat before bed, make sure it’s at least an hour before and it should have as little sugar and calorie content as possible. Protein is ideal for this time of the day!
Exercise: Oh boy. All of these steps are sounding pretty hard, aren’t they? Good news! You don’t have to go to the gym. You don’t even have to go outside. And I’m not about to preach youtube workout videos and giant squishy balls to roll around on. I am about to preach yoga. I know we only ever see super attractive and skinny women perching themselves in ridiculous poses on a fucking mountaintop at sunrise with some inspirational quote plastered everywhere and that’s what we think when we hear yoga, but you know what? I’ve taken yoga courses, and the only one even half-capable of flipping herself upside down on her head was our instructor-- because she’s been doing it forever. Most people had to use blocks and bands to assist them with most of the poses. Yoga is not for the fit and bendy only; in fact, the less fit and bendy you are, the more you’ll probably benefit from the practice. A few simple stretches in the morning isn’t going to change your life, but it’s a start. There are plenty of free videos and apps around to help you get started with easy things that will make the rest of your day a little easier, and I guarantee you’ll start feeling so much better that you’ll get addicted to it. If you happen to already be a reasonably active person, then just make sure you’re getting at least 30 minutes of at least moderate activity in order to get the most benefit out of your workout. The most beneficial time to do any exercise is first thing in the morning after you wake up, but right before meals or mid-day when you might be feeling a bit of a drag are also ideal times. Anything above low-intensity exercise before you go to bed will definitely hurt your sleep cycle, but there are some yoga poses and other kinds of exercise that are actually very beneficial to relaxing and getting a better night’s sleep.
Meditation: This should be higher on the list, but again the list really isn’t a ranked thing. I’m only putting it this far down because I believe that meditation doesn’t always stick out to people as something especially helpful. That’s because meditation doesn’t show instant results and a lot of people do it very wrong, so they don’t get any results at all. Because of this, I think if the above techniques are implemented then meditation will become more attractive because some control and balance in your life will have already been established with the other things. I would recommend starting with guided meditation no matter what, if you’ve never done it before or even if you think you’ve been doing it ineffectively. Meditation is very flexible, which is one of the things I love most about it. Once you understand the real purpose of meditating and how to handle any potential distractions while you’re meditating, you can do it almost anywhere and at any time-- and you can spend five minutes with yourself or two hours. Any amount of quiet and calm for your mind will help it immensely! Also, if you’re feeling drained and are unable to do any stretches or exercises to wake yourself up, meditation can actually make you more alert and refreshed. This is especially helpful for people trying to focus on a task that needs to be accomplished but that attention span just isn’t cutting it. Meditation should center you, calm your mind, boost your focus, and clear your head of distracting thoughts and worries unrelated to the task at hand. Stress and anxiety should reduce and if you go into a deep enough trance, a sense of euphoria (similar to that infamous ‘runner’s high’) will accompany you for a while afterwards. If it’s not doing that for you, then you should probably seek out some sort of guide to help you meditate more effectively.
Water: Just drink it. I won’t say that you can’t drink too much, because of course you can, but chances are high you aren’t drinking as much as you should be. It depends a lot on your activity levels, what you’re eating throughout the day, and your exposure to the sun or other high heat elements, but a few signs that you’re not drinking enough water are: if you get frequent headaches, especially near the top/crown of your head; if you get muscle cramps-- they can be anywhere, but leg cramps are very common and I experience stomach cramps easily when I’m dehydrated; if you’re thirsty (simple as that); if you find yourself yawning/breathing deeply excessively. Drinking water first thing in the morning will help you wake up and cold water before meals will reduce your appetite so you don’t overeat.
There is so much more I could say about anxiety and so many other, little things that can be done to make things easier on yourself, but these are the really big ones. The ones that I guarantee, if practiced together even on a minimal level, will improve your health both physically and mentally to the extent that you’ll never believe you lived so miserably for so long without doing these simple things. Because here’s the hard news: We weren’t meant to sit in a dark room in front of a computer screen all day. We weren’t meant to play video games for 12 hours a day. We weren’t built to digest the obnoxious amount of empty carbs and overload of sugar that is basically forced in our face every time we turn around. Our bodies are meant to work and they’re meant to be maintained-- and if you feel like that statement doesn’t apply to you, you probably don’t understand your body as well as you think you do. I’m not saying I know anyone’s specific situation and of course there are always outrageous exceptions to even the most reliable of rules, but for the majority of people reading this, the only real block against you and a healthier you is just plainly you. That’s not an easy thing to accept or make peace with, but the sooner we realize that we most often are the only ones holding ourselves back, the easier it will be for us to help ourselves get better. These are just steps and suggestions. Just words on a screen. Any time they’re put into practice and any time they give anyone any sort of benefit, that victory is not mine. Don’t give me the credit. Because you’re doing all of it. And you’ve been able to all along, so I’m glad you’re finally waking up and realizing it.
#i could never pull the trigger // ooc#this got long anyway#and trust me#i could have said so much more#share this around if you think it'll help someone#reblog it or whatever#or just share the information yourself#just get some helpful info out in the world#the more you know
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TØP Weekly Update SPECIAL TRENCH EDITION (10/6/18)
Ya’ll have had time to listen to the album. Some of you have it memorized already. So let’s pick apart Twenty One Pilots’ latest project track-by-track, explore the new themes and sounds that the band is exploring in this era, and also catch up on all of the latest news to come out in just the last two days.
This Week’s TØPics:
A Complete Look at Trench
My Blood Music Video
Twenty One Pilots to Return to the American Music Awards
New Interviews About the Album
Picking Fights with Gaga? (Not Really, No)
And MORE!
Track Analysis:
Before we get started, we should acknowledge Trench’s wonderful liner notes, which besides boasting some stellar artistic design reveal a great deal of important information about this album. First, the overall cohesion of the album, like with all of the band’s albums save for Blurryface, can be attributed to the shared vision of the same production team on every track. The impact of Paul Meany on this entire album should not be understated: Paul co-produced every track save for “Levitate”, which he is instead given main credit for with Tyler listed as co-producer. He is also given writing credit on half of the album for his arrangements, again including “Levitate”. We musn’t forget the other heroes: the album was mixed by Adam Hawkins and mastered by Chris Gehringer. Also, the “thank you”s are both touching and occasionally very funny (“And to our haters, we know you liked stressed out.”)
I’ve already expressed my thoughts and reactions to the four previous singles in prior updates, so feel free to look back at them to fill in the gaps.
“Morph” starts us off real strong with an absolutely stellar groove (thanks, Paul). Lyrically, the track features Tyler ruminating on death, considering its inevitability, worrying over its proximity, and questioning what comes after. It’s the most he discusses faith on Trench; Tyler considers looking “above” for answers a “blind belief”, but he still chooses it anyway, with some reservations. Ultimately, Tyler resolves to “morph to someone” else, to stay on the defensive against the insecurities leveled at him by Nico and keep moving forward. The song also features a “Judge”-esque shout-out to our boy Josh Dun within the stellar ending run- fitting, considering just how good his drums sound on this track in particular.
“Chlorine” is a definite highlight off the album, as it constantly mixes up flow and structure while never losing it’s laid-back psychedelic groove and its consistently excellent metaphorical examination of Tyler’s strained relationship with fame. I’ll be singing that hook forever. And the bridge. And that ending break-down that definitely sounds like a No Phun Intended sample. This thing’s a bop, potentially the best track on the whole project- and that’s really saying something.
“Smithereens” is an odd duck that feels like it doesn’t quite fit in on Trench but is nonetheless a very sweet and enjoyable tune. I mean, it’s love song that snuck onto this album that’s literally about writing a love song and sneaking it onto an album; I have to commend Tyler for being ballsy, clever, and artistic with his grand romantic gesture. I also have to commend Mr. Meany for sneaking that beautiful woodwind section in.
Before I even heard the album, I knew “Neon Gravestones” was going to be the stand-out track for a lot of folks. Rock Sound had promised that this would be the song that saves people’s lives, and hopefully it will. Tyler’s spoken word musings regarding celebrity suicide were always going to be controversial, and publications like The Atlantic and Alt Press have already questioned exactly what he means to say with the song. As someone who just recently lost a loved one to suicide, even I’ve struggled with this song’s message somewhat. Does Tyler disrespect the memory of those that have passed by telling us not to glorify them in death? It skirts close to the line a bit, and he certainly could have gotten a bit more specific in how he suggests we should react. But he reigns it back from the edge, as Tyler so often does when discussing mental illness, by placing the focus on his own lived experience. “If I lose to myself” is the most gut-wrenching lyric Tyler’s written in ages, and it really sells that this idea is something that Tyler truly wrestles with in dark moments. We really do have to de-romanticize suicide if we want to have a chance against it, and I’m proud of Tyler for taking those steps in a public way that can also help others. And the production? Simply bone-chilling.
“The Hype”, aka “Wonderwall” meets “Bittersweet Symphony”, is another highlight. Simple lyrics, sure, but comforting ones. Particular praise goes to the ending, when the echo effects layer onto the vocals and the ukulele comes into mix. One of many great “night-time driving down the highway” songs on this half of the album.
“Cut My Lip” is pretty easily my least favorite song on the album, which is not meant a harsh criticism at all. The overall vibe is very enjoyable, and I especially love how Tyler says “contusions”, but the song is just twice as long as the lyrical content actually warrants. It really is largely saved by Josh’s intricate drumming and Paul’s intervention with the reverbing psychedelic synths: it sounds just as sick as the rest of the album in those respects.
The last two minutes of “Bandito” may just be the best part of the entire album; Paul (I assume it’s Paul) really outdid himself with that composition. The rest of the song is great, too, with “I’m still not sure if fear’s a rival or close relative to truth” in particular standing out as an all-time Tyler Joseph lyric. I can’t wait to hear this live... God, I hope this is played live...
“Pet Cheetah” is... weird. But with a name like that, we expected as much, and it only makes all the more sense when considering the subject matter: writer’s block. Tackling that subject head on really seems to have given an extra boost to Tyler’s creative energies: his rap verse is straight-up fire in terms of both wordplay and passion. All in all, a fun curiosity to come back to when we want to remember that time Tyler wrapped about naming a cheetah after acclaimed British action star Jason Statham.
“Legend” is one of those songs that really is beyond criticism by virtue of its subject matter: Tyler mourning the loss of his grandfather. I do wish the song was given a bit more polish around the edges, but it still boasts a gorgeous horn section, and the rough sound helps demonstrate that this was a deeply personal project that we’re privileged to be able to hear at all.
“Leave the City” is the perfect ending note for this project. As Zane Lowe said, it never fully reaches the crescendo it seems to be building to, and all the better for it. The inclusion of a call to “stay alive”, now directed inward toward Tyler himself, remains a powerful rallying cry of hope, even while it expresses a sense of resignation to knowing our personal battles may never end. There’s no clear answer, only the promise that we are not left alone to face what the future holds. And that’s enough.
Taken all together, Trench was not the album I was expecting, and not at all in a bad way. There was relatively little in the way of “Jumpsuit”’s harder edge, nor was it as obtuse and concept-dedicated as the initial marketing had indicated. But it was still incredibly daring and ambitious, tackling song-structures and concepts that few pop artists (if we can still call them that) would dare approach. While I would have loved an album much more strictly dedicated to telling the story of Dema, I don’t know if most people would have, and that kind of railroading would have prevented Tyler from getting as personal and deep as he does here. There are ideas and individual lyrics on this project that have left their mark on me like few pieces of music have since... well, Vessel. It might not match that album in my own heart, but it might also objectively be the best thing they’ve ever done.
Major News, Releases, and Announcements:
Shockingly, we’re not even close to done. As reported in the last update, the album’s release was accompanied by the release of an all new music video for “My Blood”. Unlike the prior three videos, this narrative takes place completely outside the world of Dema and Trench, featuring two rebel brothers dealing with all that suburban teen white boy angst (been there) and attending a real funky Halloween party in skeleton onesies, all leading up to a satisfying Fight Club revelation.
The video is also the first one since “Tear In My Heart” to not be directed by Mark Eshleman or Andrew Donoho. The Clique’s new friend Tim Mattia has been directing some major music videos since 2012, including Troye Sivan’s Blue Neighborhood project, Fetty Wap’s “Trap Queen”, and major singles from The 1975, Zedd, Chris Stapleton, and many more. You can definitely tell the difference from the aesthetic (particularly Tyler and Josh being relegated to a glorified cameo). Still, it was a refreshing change of pace, and I look forward to seeing if it helps the song pick up any momentum at radio.
Upcoming Performances:
American Music Awards, Microsoft Theater, Los Angeles, CA
Capacity: 7,100
On Thursday, we reported that Tyler and Josh would be signing copies of Trench in Hollywood this coming Monday. Turns out they weren’t just looking for some California sunshine- they’ll be performing at the American Music Awards. This marks their first professionally filmed performance this era and their first award show performance since... well, the last AMAs, where they put on a stellar show. Current reports state that the band will be playing “Jumpsuit”, but I would not be at all surprised if they mashed it up or tried to do something clever and attention-grabbing. Whatever they play, seeing the boys back playing live will certainly do wonders for promoting Trench- and it will definitely make me happy.
Other Shenanigans:
Oh, we’re still not done. Irish radio station Today FM aired an interview they held with Tyler back on the Complete Diversion media day. The interviewer is brilliant and asked a bunch of thoughtful questions that show that he’s done his homework and cares for the band and its fans. Highlights include:
Tyler says that he doesn’t want to talk too much about the “easter eggs” of the marketing campaign (probably referring to dmaorg.info) because he feels it might take away some of the punch.
Tyler shares some very wise words about being aware of the cyclical nature of mental health and self-improvement. He didn’t end the album with a definitive answer because he has recognized that, in our individual journeys, we regularly get sent back to Square 1 and then are left all the more discouraged because we feel the effort is futile. Tyler suggests that awareness that will happen in advance- and that we are all doing it together- will help us to get back to the place we fell from more quickly each time.
Tyler says that it’s incredibly “heavy” to hear fans say they saved their lives, and that he’s tempted to brush it off rather than deal with that weight. However, they recognize that their platform has given them a responsibility to serve their audience.
When confronted by the possibility that folks wouldn’t like the new imagery, the band had to fall back and just do what they thought was cool. They were so relieved by how well the Complete Diversion show went and how receptive everyone was to them.
The band will absolutely be moving forward with this Trench story- it’s not done yet, not by a long shot.
Australian music site Music Feeds also published a text interview with the band that’s another must-read:
Tyler discusses how Trench is largely meant to represent the “space between spaces”. He was particularly feeling strange about leaving Blurryface to approach this new album, so he channeled that struggle with finding yourself in a liminal space into the music.
He’s hinted at it in the past, but I believe this is the first time Tyler bluntly says that Blurryface is Nicolas Bourbaki.
Tyler jokes that they filmed in Ukraine because the workers don’t take lunch breaks and it saved them money.
Tyler says that all of the songs on the album “completely destroyed him”, but says that “Legend” was the hardest of all because of the subject matter and how he was still developing it as his grandfather passed.
Josh is looking forward to playing “Morph” live because of how different the drum pattern is from their previous work.
Tyler’s still listening to a lot of Death Cab for Cutie, while Josh is mostly just listening to podcasts like Lore.
“You can’t touch a hole.”
Also, in case you missed the title image, the band made a cute joke about A Star Is Born, whose soundtrack is increasingly looking like it will knock Trench away from a #1 debut. Some Lady Gaga stans are mad about it, I guess, but come on, that picture is hilarious.
-
Listen. We’ve been here for a long time. You’ve done a lot of reading of my inane ramblings. I was going to sum up some of the early reviews for the album, but I think I’m going to save that for the next time. Hopefully I’ll be able to include the opinions of a certain Melon... Catch you Friday.
Power to the local dreamer.
|-/
#twenty one pilots#trench#my blood#tyler joseph#josh dun#jumpsuit#levitate#morph#chlorine#smithereens#neon gravestones#the hype#nico and the niners#cut my lip#bandito#pet cheetah#legend#leave the city#a star is born#lady gaga#top weekly update
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Muse Bio and Rules (Mobile version)
(art by bastardprxnce)
On Blog Version
I’ve talked to couple people who had trouble seeing the bio since tumblr mobile is a bit behind on the concept of pages, so I figured it’s about time I made this! If there are any issues, let me know! <3
Character biography:
NAME: Kallion
AGE: 19-22
SPECIES: Saiyan
(Cont. under the cut)
Kallion is a Saiyan time patroller who was brought to Conton city, from a not-too-distant past, when noticed by the Supreme Kai of Time.
The beginning of her life was of little note among Saiyan’s. She was born a low-level to two low class parents she barely remembers and can’t name. As a baby with a low power level, her destiny was to be sent to a far off planet, conquer it, come back home, rinse, wash, repeat. By five years old she had a crew and a steady schedule of missions. Too bad she found herself struggling constantly against her own nature; even as a great ape, she found herself sparing more people than her crew members killed. And they would make their displeasure with her known, eventually.
With that aside, life still pressed on. Training, missions, armor that seemed too big, slowly gaining the strength to live up to the pride of her mighty race…
And then in an instant, everything changed.
The Saiyan’s were decimated. But her typical existence had one thing on its side; luck. She survived the near-extinction of her race and planet’s destruction by sheer, dumb luck. Shortly before the explosion of planet Vegeta, she had been marooned and stranded on another planet by her own crew due to her constant failures and inability to complete tasks on their planet-conquering missions. Of course, this turned out to be a blessing in disguise.
Alone on that planet, all she saw was a bright explosion in the sky and an unmistakable void of energy. Kallion remained scavenging on that planet for several years before being brought to Conton city as a recruit.
All in all, she’s fared much better. At the very least, she can laugh and have a sense of humor about her mistakes as opposed to being unceremoniously dumped on a backwater planet by herself.
Kallion came into the time patrol in her very early teens, and since then has been able to develop into her own person and learn about life outside of the constant struggle for survival. While Planet Vegeta was her home warts and all, she will be the first to admit that life in Conton City has made her happier than she ever thought she deserved.
She holds a strong admiration for Chronoa and the time patrol, as well as gratitude for giving what she sees at a second chance at a meaningful life.
Appearance:
Short, but muscular! Typical Saiyan black hair, which wafts out at the ends, and grey-blue eyes. A small scar on her left cheek is left as a reminder from some battle far away. Her tail is still very much there- call it sentiment, but she’s not quite ready to let go of that part of her heritage. After all, it’s not a problem as long as she remembers not to look up at the full moon. Right?
Personality:
Kallion’s got a bit of a chip on her shoulder. The insecurity she holds from her younger days manifests in a bad tendency to either overcompensate her strengths, or doubt herself to the point of freezing at the worst of times. Implying she’s weak is a good way to earn her ire. While lacking the extreme aggression and ruthlessness, she hasn’t lost her Saiyan pride after all! It’s unclear who exactly she’s trying to prove herself to- Chronoa, Elder Kai, Trunks, and the first Patroller have plenty of confidence in her abilities. Not to mention her old crew mates are long dead. The simple answer would be, “the nagging voice in the back of her head.” Putting all that aside, she’s genuinely good-hearted for a born-and-bred Saiyan of planet Vegeta.
She’s passionate about her work, playful, honest almost to a fault, and will give the shirt off her back for a friend…due to an incurable case of “inability to say no.” For better or worse, she often gives people the benefit of the doubt. Kallion isn’t gullible or naive, but past experiences have made her eager to please.
That being said; Due to her background as essentially a feral child, she’s behind in a lot of areas of knowledge. Kallion’s a slow reader, often misses innuendos and metaphor, and can be literal minded. This, of course, leads to her coming off as a bit…dumb sometimes.
Gentle nature and soft heart aside, Kallion’s Saiyan instincts and heritage aren’t buried completely under the surface. First, there’s the insatiable appetite. Second, that love of battle and need for more strength can’t be taken away so easily. She may get too into fights at times, but it has yet to cause any kind of serious damage. She takes pride in the fact that she has yet to cause as much damage as, say, the oh-so famous Goku and Vegeta. Property damage absolutely doesn’t count. Third, a short temper she keeps in check with a deep breath, balled fists, and an uncomfortably wide smile. Snarky remarks are optional.
On rare occasions, the past catches up to her. A brilliant explosion, something as simple as fireworks, that remind her a little too much of that night long ago. A fleeting pang of guilt hitting her heart, resulting in her wondering why a low class, pathetically soft excuse for a warrior like herself was spared the fate of her family and 99% of her race…but those thoughts be damned!
If Kallion’s going to make the best of a second chance, dwelling on something like that isn’t going to help. She’ll sooner slap the self pity out of herself than let it take hold!
Other:
Mentor: Bardock. Primarily with @drxgon-soul, but I’m also willing to interact with other Bardock’s if they’re willing! I’m an incredibly shy person, so it may take me a while to approach you first. Kallion also trains with Shallot (shallxt), Taeta (ancientoozaru) and Scaro (divinesaiyan)
Voice: Her VA claim is Bryn Apprill, more along the lines of her Historia Reiss than the voice she used in Xenoverse.
Family: As mentioned above, Kallion has little to no memories of her parents. It’s all a matter of circumstance– her parents were often on missions, and when they weren’t, than Kallion was the one away. So her impression of them is two typical lowclass Saiyan’s who probably didn’t care due to how soft she was. And she’s okay with knowing that much, despite there being a bit of a hole in her heart because of it. HOWEVER, I can say that her father is Toma/Tora. More on that here!
Ships: Kal’s in a ship with the Saiyan in Red/Giblet (the-hooded-saiyan). I’m still a liiiiittle undecided on whether or not I want this blog to be multiship, but for now I’ll say it’s “More Discussion Needed.“
Misc:
I’ve gone as far as having her attain SSGSS in XV2, but for the purposes of this blog and story, she is currently training her ass off to reach Super Saiyan. All she needs is that little push.
She loves kids! Again, while it prooooobably won’t come up for blog/story purposes, I actually imagine her having three in the future. I’m a sucker for time travel shenanigans, so my avatar for XV1 who cameos as Trunks’ partner in XV2 is modeled to be her son. In my defense, I watch a surprising amount of media with stable time loop narratives.
Kallion’s a kicker more than a puncher
More to be added in the future!
Rules:
100% open to RP with other OCs! And anyone, really!
Pretty general, but be excellent to each other, don’t send hate, no r*pe or non-con, don’t be a creep. To be honest my style of Rp in the past has always been to just have fun and be chill. My rules aren’t too too strict and I am FAR from elitist/snobby/exclutionist.
Would love to communicate with people as well
Shipping is fun and I would love to do it, but please let it happen naturally! No forcing!
This is a drama-free zone my friends! Any hate in the ask box will be deleted, and all discourse can be directed to my main/personal blog. I’m here to have fun and make friends, not get pissy at people over shipping opinions. Believe me, you shouldn’t have to worry about that kind of thing here.
That being said, if you have any legitimate complaints or criticism of anything I do, please do tell me over private chats! I’m always looking to improve!
As mentioned before, roleplaying in the past for me has always been very easy going. My style is either freeform or in third person. Unless it’s in brackets/parenthesis or made obvious in the tag, I’m probably in character. Even if I answer an ask without quotation marks, which I might do every now and then.
Again, I welcome constructive criticism and if it ever seems like I’ve been god moding or in any was inconsiderate, please let me know!
More rules will be added as needed
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