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minty-mumbles · 1 year

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Shifting Hues (Chapter 1: Blue Earrings)

Summary: In all the eras of Hyrule's history Wild has travelled to with the heroes of courage, red is considered a feminine color. Wild likes the color red.

Or: A fic that follows Wild’s journey to discover themselves

A/N: Beta read by @supraobsessed !

(Read on AO3 | Chapter 2)

~~~

It’s traditional for Hylian men to wear blue earrings.

Wild doesn’t know why. He just knows that most of the Hylian men he knows, at least those who have pierced ears, wear small and simple blue hoops. Time, Twilight, and Warriors all wear them.

There are exceptions, of course. Not everyone likes tradition, or cares to adhere to it. Legend wears gold studs and small silver hoops. He even has multiple sets of piercings in both of his ears, which isn’t common for men or women. But still, his earrings are simple. Masculine, even if they aren’t blue hoops.

Sky wears spiky orange hoops, made out of strange orange metal. But they're small, and they have magical properties, and Wild is pretty sure that's the only reason Sky wears them in the first place

But Wild- well.

Wild.

Wild wears flashy pieces of amber that dangle from his ears. If he turns his head quickly enough, they tap against his neck comfortingly, reminding him that they’re there.

He has some blue hoop earrings, stored away in his slate. He’d woken up from the shrine wearing the blue hoops and hadn’t given it a second of thought. He hadn’t even noticed he had earrings on at first.

The first time he’d seen a woman wearing dangling gems from her ears, Wild had known that was what he wanted. He’d stopped the woman in the street, asking her where she had gotten the earrings. The woman had laughed, asking him if he was looking for a gift for a special girl in his life. It had thrown him off balance so badly that he hadn’t even corrected her.

The woman told him of Isha, a renowned jeweler who lived in Gerudo town but had warned him that as a man, he wouldn’t be allowed into the town. He’d have to do some trade with one of the Gorons that traveled to Gerudo Town to get his jewelry. Apparently Gorons- not having genders like the rest of the Hyrule’s races did- are allowed into the town indiscriminately.

They traded the uncut gems they mined for the finished jewelry that Isha produced. Then they took the jewelry around the rest of Hyrule for other races to buy. Wild would have to buy from one of the Gorons.

It’s well worth tracking one of them down, the woman had told him. Isha’s products are always high quality.

He’d been quick to do so when he next had time to spare. The plain uncut gemstones he mined or picked up after fighting a talus were enchanting, with all their raw facets that reflected sunlight. He wanted that beauty captured in a form he could wear.

He’d bought the amber earrings he wore most often from a Goron in Hateno town. Thinking back on it, Wild suspects that the Goron had seen how eager he’d been and overcharged him, but he hadn’t cared at all about the extravagant price.

The second he got his hands on those pretty earrings, the blue hoops had come out of his ears and had gone straight into his slate. He hasn’t touched them since, and his collection of jewelry made by Isha had expanded significantly.

Wild had gotten his amber earrings blessed by a Great Fairy, enchanted to increase his defense. For practical reasons, but also so if anyone ever asked him why he wears the more feminine jewelry, he’d have that answer for them.

No one ever asks though, which he’s thankful for. He doesn’t like to lie, and he’s not very good at it.

He doesn’t think the other heroes have even noticed that he wears flashier earrings. If they have, they didn’t find it strange enough to comment on.

~~~

Wild’s still relearning things about the culture he stumbled into when he was released from the shrine. He knows he’s pretty socially inept, and he doesn’t pick up on other people’s cues very well. Whether that was a personal quirk or an effect of his amnesia was up for debate.

It wasn’t just reading other people’s body language he had trouble with, though. There are norms and traditions that people assume Wild knows, when he just didn’t.

Thankfully, people in his era were more than used to merchants and other travelers who spend most of their time out in the wild and are a little rusty with social interactions. They’re also more than willing to be more flexible with such things when they learn who Wild is.

His entire Hyrule seemed to feel a debt to him, for a reason Wild can’t explain. He had only been fixing his own mistakes when he’d walked into Hyrule castle and taken on the Calamity. He doesn’t deserve praise for finally finishing his duty a hundred years too late, even if everyone else seems to think they can never repay him.

Regardless of why though, people were a lot more willing to overlook his social blunders, and slowly but surely, he’s been learning.

He doesn’t love everything he’s learned so far. Some things seem just arbitrary and pointless. The pressure to conform to these norms grates under his skin.

For example, he’s pretty sure that red is considered a feminine color. The whole masculine versus feminine colors thing confuses him; he doesn’t understand how it’s decided whether colors are masculine or feminine.

Red is a feminine color. Wild thinks it might be because Gerudos so often have red hair, and Gerudos are always women, but he doesn’t know.

Wild likes the color red.

He likes it more than any of the other colors, he thinks. It’s bold, like the blood that has soaked every aspect of his short life. It’s bright, like the autumn leaves the Akkala region is known for. It’s a cleaner, purified version of the sickly purple-red color of malice.

People always tell him blue is his color, and failing that, green suited him best. Wild, reluctantly, thinks he agrees. With his pale coloring, any bolder, warmer colors he wore stood out too much. The softer blues and greens fit him better. So when someone asks him his favorite color, he says blue. He doesn't know why.

It’s not like men aren’t allowed to like red, but admitting he likes red feels like he’s admitting to something else, and he doesn't know what.

~~~

Wild has ruby red earrings that he keeps tucked away in his slate. The jewelry protects him against the cold, warming him when he travels too high in the mountains, or stays in the desert at night. However, when the temperature is decent, they act as regular earrings with no magical properties.

He doesn’t wear them too often. He worries they’re too gaudy, that they’ll attract too much attention to his odd jewelry choices.

But today, he wakes up and finds himself wanting to hide away from everyone. He hasn’t even opened his eyes, and he already knows it’s going to be one of those days. One of those days he would rather spend hidden away in the woods, far away from any prying eyes. The mumbled speech from around the campfire from the early risers among the heroes makes him want to turn over and hide in his bed roll.

He doesn’t want anyone's eyes on him, on his form, or his clothes. It all makes him feel so wrong.

He forces himself to sit up anyway. The camp is still quiet. As usual, he’s one of the first up, with only Time, Twilight, and Four sitting around the fire. He has to get up and get breakfast ready. And to do that, he has to get dressed.

He selects his normal outfit- the Champion’s tunic, trousers, and a black cloak- from his slate, and it appears on his body with a quiet fwoosh and a blue glow. None of the other heroes even look at him, more than used to the noise by now. Although he wears the Champion tunic every day and usually never has a problem with it, today it hugs his form in all the wrong places. Wild swallows down a hot, uncomfortable, nameless emotion, and tugs his cloak tighter around himself.

He needs to get up and make breakfast, but he really doesn’t want to.

He needs… something, today. Something just for himself, that no one else will comment on.

So he swipes through his slate and pulls out the ruby earrings. The earrings are incredible works of art. Isha did a wonderful job with the gemstones Wild had brought her. She’d managed to shape the stone so they caught the morning light as Wild holds them up in the sun, but still retain their rough and somewhat natural shape.

Wild puts them on, and smiles as the weight of them tugs on his earlobes. They’re a little heavier than his normal amber earrings, and they pull at his ears a little more than he's used to. The sensation- that little reminder that they’re there- soothes his irritation away.

Throughout the day, none of the other heroes seem to notice his wardrobe change, but Wild notices, constantly. He finds himself fiddling with the jewels throughout the day, running his fingers over the smooth facets of the gemstones. The tap-tap of his fingernails against the stones makes him smile.

Every time he sees himself in something even slightly reflective, his eyes are drawn to the beautiful red stones, hanging like drops of blood from his ears.

He’s washing dishes after supper in a river, and he sees himself. His long hair and red earrings are reflected back at him from the water, and like he has all day, he pauses and looks at himself for a moment. He can see the smile beaming from his face in the reflection. Maybe it’s vain to care so much about how he looked, but he couldn't help it.

And when he turns his head just so, and the ripples in the water are particularly strong, he can imagine that his cheekbones are a little less sharp, that his face is softer.

It’s times like this that he's glad that he doesn't have a larger frame with more muscle mass like Time or Twilight do. He’s always loved his leaner build, meant for flexibility and running instead of the solid muscle meant for overpowering strength. It would be harder to pretend, even for a moment, if he was built like that.

~~~

Wild knows he should’ve gotten rid of the vai clothes after he no longer needed to enter Gerudo town. Or at the very least, he should have tucked them away in a chest in his house, and not put them on again.

He put the clothes on again.

Of course he did. He can’t leave well enough alone.

He did so only once. It had been well before he was whisked away on this new journey, before he even knew about the heroes of the ancient past or of the spreading infection of black blood.

He had wanted to put on the clothes again, but he knew he couldn’t go back to Gerudo Town.

No matter how careful he was, Riju would eventually hear about his return, and she’d want to know why he’d returned to the town when there was no reason to do so. He didn’t want to be disrespectful of the Gerudos’ culture. If their laws said no men in Gerudo Town, that meant no men in Gerudo Town.

So when he inevitably cracked after weeks of thinking about the clothing, he didn’t go to the town. Instead, he tucked the clothing into the bottom of his bag, and took it out to the middle of the woods near Hateno, far away from any prying eyes.

But he still hasn’t been able to bring himself to put it on. What if someone saw him? He’d known the thought was irrational. There was no one out here who would possibly see him.

He wanted to put it on so badly.

He wanted to put it on, but someone could see him. No one would be fooled for long, especially if they knew him. The clothing was made for women, but it didn’t conceal his masculine figure. It definitely didn’t conceal his scars.

(Wild wasn't an idiot. The Gerudo guards, along with everyone else in Gerudo town, knew who he was. They knew he was a man. The only reason they had let him stay was that their Chief had given him permission to enter the town, and they’d needed his aid badly. It also helped that Wild never caused a scene or took advantage of being allowed inside the walls. He was also willing to adhere to their traditions, and wear the vai outfit. If he went back now- when he had no need to and Riju no longer had any reason to let him into the town- it likely wouldn’t turn out so well.)

So he left Hateno, leaving any sign of Hylian life behind. He ended up at the Great Plateau, his birthplace.

No one would find him there. Most couldn’t scale the walls, and those who could, like the Rito, usually didn’t find any reason to.

It was dark by the time he’d arrived, and by the time he slipped the clothing on, nighttime had fallen completely. But it had been summer, and the night breeze had been balmy, so even with the thin fabric of the Gerudo clothing, he’d felt comfortable.

He’d felt more than comfortable, actually.

It had made him happy, somehow, to know that if someone looked at him, they might not have seen a man, even if just for a moment.

He had left the clothes on all night, and had simply existed. He’d hunted, he’d explored the plateau (even though he’d long since memorized it like the back of his hand,) and he’d laughed, a good deal more than he usually did.

He’d felt light on his feet, and he had almost been dancing when he entered the Temple of Time.

And then he’d turned around to face the front of the temple, and he’d seen the stoney face of Hylia, eyes closed in perfect peaceful prayer, and everything had gone quiet.

Not that there had been music playing before, or any sound at all besides his own heartbeat, but it felt like the whole world stops breathing when he’s faced with the pinnacle of why this was wrong, wrong, so very wrong.

He wondered if Hylia had been laughing at him, or if she’d been watching him at all. He wondered if the goddess even has the ability to laugh. He felt ashamed, when he thought of her looking at him when he was dressed like that.

Hylia had chosen him to be the hero.

He’s the hero, and everyone knows the hero was always a man, even if they didn’t start out as one, like Hyrule and Warriors.

And men don’t wear women’s clothing.

Wild doesn’t understand why, but they don’t.

Did these feelings mean that Hylia chose the wrong person to wield the sacred blade? Or had she chosen correctly, and it was Wild who was just… wrong?

He left almost immediately, using his slate to teleport away. And he hadn’t gone back to the Temple of Time for a very long time, in the vai outfit or out of it.

~~~

When Wild was invited to join this group of heroes from the past, he hadn’t hesitated to say yes. The only time he had faltered when getting ready to leave was when it came to packing his clothes. He took his regular outfit, his heat and cold resistant clothes, his climbing gear, his Sheikah stealth outfit, and any other pieces of clothing that may help him on this journey.

He also took the vai clothing with him. He’d shoved it down to the very bottom of his bag, and when he rejoined the other heroes, he could have sworn that they would be able to tell what he carried somehow.

No one could, of course. As many talents as the heroes of old possess, none of them had x-ray vision.

Wild doesn’t know why he had felt compelled to tuck the silky fabrics into his pack. Sometimes he regretted bringing them with him on the journey. It’s not like he could wear them, and it put the clothing in constant danger of being discovered. But he had brought it with him, so there was no use regretting.

So now, several months into the journey, the vai clothes remain at the bottom of his pack for the most part. None of the other heroes have the habit of riffling through other people’s bags, so he doesn’t worry too much that they’ll find the clothes as long as he’s careful.

Sometimes, late at night when he’s on watch, he puts his bag in his lap. His hand slips into the bag to feel the silken fabric brush against his fingers. Only one hand, primed and ready to casually remove it at the first sign of someone waking up.

It’s comforting for some reason, to remember how the fabric felt against his body. To remember that what he’d felt when he’d worn the clothes- that inexplicable joy, that freeness- had been real, even if he can’t experience it again.

He doesn’t dare take the clothes out of his pack though, let alone put them on. Not even in the dead of night, not when there’s a chance that someone could wake up and see him. He doesn’t want to think of the questions that might arise from any of them seeing him dressed like that.

His late-night habit backfires on him, and bringing the clothes on the journey comes back to bite him eventually.

Wild doesn’t see the moment that Warriors finds the veil. He’s not really one to go through someone’s bag, so Wild has to assume that he had forgotten to put the clothes back at the bottom of the bag. That part of them had been poking out of the top of his pack and Warriors eyes had caught on the blue fabric.

Warriors doesn’t think the clothes belong to Wild, to Wild’s immense relief. Instead, he thinks it’s a gift for some girl Wild likes. It’s still not a good outcome. It’s still embarrassing.

But at least there doesn’t seem to be any inkling in Warriors' mocking tone that he knows about Wild’s shameful secret.

The others pay dearly for their teasing with their burnt taste buds, but his revenge doesn’t make Wild feel much better. The whole situation should make him angry. Instead, it’s only stressing him out and upsetting him.

He does his best to ignore the hurt bubbling up inside of him while he’s around the other heroes. He pushes it down, replacing it with righteous anger, angry glares, and a sharp thwack on the back of Warriors’ hand when the man tries to sneak food that isn’t spiced to high heavens.

Once the commotion around dinner has mostly calmed down, he walks off alone into the nearby woods. No one dares follow him, not while his temper is still so obviously sensitive and ready to snap.

He keeps going until he’s far enough away from their camp. When he’s determined that no one will hear him, not even Twilight with his wolf-like hearing, he stops. Slumping down, he sits at the base of a tree.

Slowly, WIld lets go of the anger he’s been using all evening to suppress his other emotions. Sadness and confusion and frustration well up to replace it, and tears are quick to start flowing from his eyes.

He doesn’t know… why.

Why he’s crying, why he’s so upset about this. Warriors and Legend- and Sky and Twilight to an extent- were only teasing. And the others didn’t interfere or stop them because they had only been teasing. Usually Wild is all too happy to engage in that kind of play and banter. But this time… it hurt.

It hurt because even though they hadn’t even known Wild’s most tightly kept secret- even though they hadn’t known that the vai clothes are his, and not a gift for someone else- they still made fun of him. What would they say if they knew the full truth- if they knew he was the one who the clothes were for?

Because men aren’t supposed to wear these kinds of clothes. And everyone knows that the hero is supposed to be a man and-

And Wild isn’t a man.

Wild growls, posture shrinking defensively against the tree as if that would help stave off the thoughts. They shake their head as they finally let themself think what they’ve known for a while. Their teeth grit in anger, and slam their hands down on the soft earth. Sharp nails dig into the loose, moist soil. It’ll be a pain to clean under their nails later but Wild doesn’t care!

This isn’t fair! It isn't fair, Goddess damn it!

They’re not crying anymore. The tears still well up in the corners of their eyes, but they blink furiously, not letting them fall. Why did this have to be them? Why couldn’t anything be simple for them?

This is how Hyrule finds them, an indeterminable amount of time later. Angry and seething at no one except themself for daring to feel like this. Wild doesn’t know if Hyrule had been looking for them, or if he’d just been wandering nearby and happened to hear Wild’s distress.

Hyrule’s concerned, as anyone would be if they found their friend rocking back and forth on the ground, one hand digging into the earth and the other, still muddy, gripping tightly at their hair.

He sits next to Wild, slowly and carefully, as if trying not to startle a wild animal. There’s a moment of silence where he just looks at Wild with concern gleaming in his eyes.

After a moment, Hyrule reaches out, giving Wild plenty of time to draw away from him. When they don’t move away, Hyrule eases their hands from their long hair.

Wild lets themself relax slightly. They can’t bring themselves to clutch at Hyrule’s hands as punishingly as they had been gripping their hair, so they’re forced to let their muscles loosen.

Hyrule looks at them carefully, no doubt trying to find Wild’s cause for distress. When he finds no obvious injuries or ailments, he asks them what’s wrong, but Wild has no answer for him.

If anyone would understand, Hyrule would. Or Warriors. But Wild can’t help but think of the relief that Hyrule and Warriors must have felt when they figured out they were men, when they knew that was what they were supposed to be. What the hero was supposed to be.

Wild can’t help but think of how angry Hyrule might be, at Wild for wanting so desperately what Hyrule himself has rejected.

Any thought of telling Hyrule dies before Wild even opens their mouth. They can’t tell anyone about this. Not now. Not yet.

#it gets happier I promise #linked universe #mint's fanfiction #shifting hues #Lu wild #Lu hyrule #Lu legend #Lu warriors #lgbtq+#queer themes #trans wild #gender dysphoria #misgendering cw #(unintentional)#angst

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medinainternational · 8 months

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(Motif-Radio) REGGAE PON TOP # 30 2023 TRACK LISTING BELOW:

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#SoundCloud #music #Motif-Radio #ROOTS REGGAE #LOVER'S ROCK #DANCEHALL #DUBPLTES

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ao3feed-larry · 2 years

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The Different Shades Of Love

by Louhazza_2828

"Love comes in many colours, and I love you, with every shade of my ❤️" After Harry loses his father at a young age, his mother, becomes a single mom of 4 kids. Working as a maid, she can afford to educate only the eldest. Seeing her mother treated badly at work, and not able to bear his family's condition Harry swears to work hard to turn their life around. He gains immense respect and devotion towards his mother for going through all the difficult times for them. He has never known love & doesn't understand it. Until someone

Louis is a young, vibrant, strong, and independent nutritionist and is part of a simple, middle-class Bengali family, that always supports him. They aren't rich in terms of money, but in terms of morals and values. He has always dreamt of having his own fairy tale and finding his very own prince charming. He longs for it.

Their lives take a turn when their roads intersect and Louis is hired by Harry to take care of Isha's health. They get off on the wrong foot but end up falling in love. What happens when Harry finds out that his mother dislikes the man he loves and keeps him in a position where he must choose between the two? Are they strong enough to make it?

Words: 708, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Series: Part 1 of Larry remake of KRPKAB

Fandoms: One Direction (Band)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/M, M/M

Characters: Harry Styles, Louis Tomlinson, Mentions of - Character, Liam Payne, Zayn Malik, Niall Horan

Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Additional Tags: Love, Falling In Love, Idiots in Love, Based on Kuch Rang Pyaar Ke Aise Bhi (Indian TV show), Most characters stay the same, except the boys, Homosexuality, Gay Character, love is love, m/m - Freeform, now, Fluff and Angst, a lot of - Freeform, Angst, Drama & Romance, Family Drama, Break Up, patch up, Post-Break Up, Sad with a Happy Ending, You might cry not sure cause I did, Gay is as normal as het here, Boss/Employee Relationship, Kinda, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Mpreg, Nutrionist Louis Tomlinson, Louis Tomlinson Loves Harry Styles, Harry Styles Loves Louis Tomlinson, No Smut, Businessman Harry Styles, CEO Harry Styles, Harry is a love virgin, Louis believes in soulmates, Toxic relationships in the family, Some family memebers are toxic, Sometimes the pain is a lot

via AO3 works tagged 'Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson' https://ift.tt/6grCIP5

#author #larry stylinson #larry fic #ao3 feed larry #The Different Shades Of Love #<p>by <a rel= href="

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cyborg-franky · 2 years

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Thank you patreon!

Another pateron!

Ace x GN Reader SFW Word Count: 660

Ace had told you countless stories from his childhood, you knew Luffy and Sabo like they were your own brothers, you could practically piece together what they looked like just from all the enthusiastic retellings your boyfriend would bestow upon you, and everyone else that would listen.

Get a little booze into Ace and he could go for hours talking about things with a happy grin on his face. The flip side was get some booze into Ace and he’d tell you about his less than happy points growing up.

You’d been able to slot each tragic, strange, wonderful, and dramatic pieces of the puzzle that was Portgas D Ace together to see a bigger picture. Which was in all fairness a little bit of a mess. You didn’t mind, you loved him all the same.

He’d grown up a little feral, running around the forest barefoot, screaming and shouting and almost engaging in some casual murder here and there. It didn’t surprise you that even as an adult he needed some prompting to remember certain things.

Such as wrestling him into the shower or bathtub. He could be a goblin of a man when you let him get away with it. Not a fan of taking more than one bath a week until he’d started to date you. You’d pretty much hinted that if he didn’t wash, he wasn’t going to get to see you without any clothes on.

That sorted out most of his grubby habits. Marco and Thatch told you about the time he first joined and just stunk the place up, an entire division would have to chase him down, force him into a tub, Marco had been the one to wrestle him out of his shorts and stinky boots and scrub him like a feral cat.

You sort of wished you could have seen that someone as dignified looking as the phoenix covered in bubbles, soaked to the bone, his hair flattened against his head as he held a naked, screeching Ace in the water.

He’d gotten much better, thankfully. It was also with gentle and soft encouragement that you helped him become more aware of normal people’s habits. He’d had a shower, coming back into your room with his hair dripping wet, water droplets gathering at the ends of wavy black hair.

Ace grinned at you as he closed the door behind him, kicking off those boots he’d owned longer than you’d known him. His hair just drip, drip, dripped, rolling down his chest as it hit his skin. As nice as that was, tantalising even, he was going to catch a cold.

“Ace, fire.” You nodded to him, he blinked when he felt how damp his freckled cheeks had become from his wet hair.

“Ah! Right!” Before he reached the bed where you sat, he became ablaze, his skin and hair completely dry, his hair a fuzzy mess, looking tangled.

“Give me a brush. I’ll fix your hair for you.”

Ace blinked, a grin spreading across his face, he enjoyed it when you’d pamper him with such a simple thing. He grabbed the brush off the desk, going to sit on the floor between your legs as you got into position. He sat still, eyes closed, leaning into your touches as you started to brush his hair.

You placed your hand firmly on certain places when you felt a knot tug, he wasn’t tender-headed but that didn’t mean you weren’t going to be as careful as you could. He hummed happily, the softest sweetest smile on the once feral man’s face.

Loving the attention even in such a simple thing. You brushed out his hair, feeling it come to the nape of his neck. Knowing how much he liked it you carried on, enjoying the comfortable silence between you, all the knots and kinks long gone from his hair. You carried on because he liked it and you wanted to make him smile.

TAG LIST:

@undercoverweeeb @slut4animedilfs @acesmarigold @sanjithesimp @aces-sweetheart @sugxrslushy @kaizokuwritings @iloveportgasdace @bepoprotectionsquad @ace-no-isha @yamatosimptm @thatsprettycoolbro @spitfire-of-the-sea @fire-fist-ann @rivvd-art @santoru @mimi-ya @simp4ace @aifozu @useless-potathoO @iloveportgasdace @smoleeveewrites @strawhat-bast @gonuclear @whisplion

#sfw #gender neutral reader #one piece x reader #one piece reader insert #one piece x you #portgas d ace #portgas d. ace #portgas d ace x reader #ace x you #ace x reader #fire fist ace x reader #ace x yn

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embywolf · 2 years

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Zelinktine’s Month Day 10 - Proposal

Here is my contribution to the amazing Hype Squads Zelinktines month event. Not gonna lie, I struggled with this even though I chose the prompt based on a tiny little hc but I did it, it’s here and I hope you enjoy!

It was an honour to be a part of this event with all my favourite authors and artists, you guys rock and I love you all so much ♥

(Please excuse any mistakes).

I Give You This Ring Rated: G Words: 4196

Amber: Check, plenty of good ones to choose from.

Opal: Check, 314 in the slate, 3 useable

Luminous Stone: Check, 643 in the slate, 7 possible favourites.

Topaz: Check (but would prefer clearer ones)

Ruby: Check, 96 in the slate, 60 good enough, 2 perfect

Sapphire: Check, perfect one found and ready

Diamond: Check but not good enough

Sweat glistened on his back, his shirt long since discarded as a hinderance. The metallic sounds of metal against ore filled rock permeated the air. He was exhausted, but still he kept on hammering away in search of the purest and prettiest stones he could find. The effort will be so worth it, he knows it. Nothing but the best for his Princess.

He had scoured all 4 corners of Hyrule, searching and mining for the most perfect gems he could find. He wanted Zelda’s ring to hold all of the precious stones known to the kingdom, to represent all of Hyrule. As is tradition, the diamond was to be the biggest stone and would be mounted in the centre of the ring, nestled between 3 gem stones on each side.

With one more swift blow to the ore he was working on, Link almost stumbled forward as his Boulder Breaker was suddenly the object being broken. He huffed out a puff of air, trying to dislodge the hair sticking to his sweaty forehead to no avail so instead he wiped his forehead on his arm as he glanced down to the shimmering stones in front of him. Bingo! He finally found a diamond. Not only that, it was a perfect specimen! He counted his lucky stars that the last blow broke the ore and revealed the gem he was seeking, since he was out of useable weapons for mining and it would have been a shame to leave the ore after he had gotten so far through it.

Link grinned as he watched the gem glint in his hands before tossing it into the air, catching it and then pocketing it. He had it all planned out: the proposal, the ring, everything! Zelda was hopefully going to love it. She just had to find it first.

Next stop: Visit Isha in Gerudo Town to commission the ring.

***

Zelda entered her study that morning to a surprise waiting on her desk. An envelope addressed to her in Link’s unique penmanship sat atop her papers and guardian parts, a Silent Princess flower placed at the corner.

Hurrying to her desk, she smiled at the flower before tearing into the envelope, eager to discover what was within.

Zelda,

Queen of my heart, I offer to you this quest.

There are several clues hidden for you around Hyrule. Each clue will guide you to the next location and when you have visited them all your prize shall await you.

Your first clue is this: Where our quest ended but our lives just began

Happy travels, my love and have fun!

P.S. I’m not a clever man so I know the clues will be simple for you to figure out but please humour me. I promise it will be worth it if you complete this quest. Trust me.

Yours always, Link

A wide smile crossed her features, and she dropped the letter back on her desk and rushed to get ready to leave the castle. This was going to be fun; she just knew it!

***

Zelda was glad she her riding outfit as she warped to Kaam Ya’tak Shrine on Hyrule Field. It was going to be a long day, but for once she was looking forward to it. Having finally gotten some time off from her duties, she was determined to make the most of it. Not one for idling around the castle, Zelda found that she liked to keep busy. Clearly Link knew this only too well and it’s why she found herself on some form of treasure hunt around Hyrule. It's very sweet of him, she thinks, to go through all this effort to give her something to do, knowing that she wanted to keep active and her mind sharp. Goddess, she loves that man with all that she is.

She made her way across the field, trying to remember the exact spot where Ganon fell to Link’s aim and her golden light. The clue was accurate: their quest routed in destiny did end on this field, and it was where their new lives began when they were reunited once more.

It’s around here somewhere, just a little more , she thought, as she glanced at the map on her slate and scanned the field in front of her. She had long since shut out memories of the terrors bought by the calamity, including the final battle that had been long and tiring. Her life had begun again the moment Link had confirmed that yes, he did remember her (mostly), and they had shared their first embrace in over 100 years. That was it. He stood about there and I was over here , Zelda thought as she glanced at the map again.

“We met in the middle somewhere he — oh!”

How could she miss the bunch of Silent Princesses that sat a few metres away from her current position? Head in the slate as always Zelda, that’s how! she chastised herself as she gently picked the bouquet of flowers that Link had left for her, and tore into the envelope with as much excitement as the first one.

***

“I am older than I look and wiser beyond my years,” her next clue read. At first she wondered if the clue could refer to the Great Deku Tree, but she soon realised that — no disrespect to the Deku Tree — he did look his age. There were many wise people in Hyrule, but who did she know that was older than they looked? It implied they look young —

“AHA! That’s it!” Zelda grinned and pulled up the map on her slate, zoomed in on the ancient tech lab and warped there.

Her feet barely touched the ground before she lurched at the door. In her excitement she all but took it from its hinges. The occupants inside didn’t seem surprised to see her; in fact it was almost as if they had expected her.

“Ah, Zelly! There you are!” Purah cried as she sprang from her stool from where she was working at her bench. Symin looked up from his book and gave a polite bow of the head before picking up where he had left off during the interruption.

“Purah, has something been left here for m—” Zelda was cut short when Purah held an envelope between her fingers out to her. She took it carefully and raised an eyebrow at Purah before turning it around to open it.

“Linky dropped this off earlier today, he said to expect you and to give it to you when you came looking. He seemed to be in a hurry and didn’t elaborate further. What's it say?” Purah bounced on her tiptoes to try and see over Zelda’s elbow. She turned the paper towards the shorter woman for her to read.

“Link has created a quest for me in my time off. He knows I get bored and restless with nothing to do. I have no idea what I’m searching for with these clues but it makes it all the more exciting if I’m honest.” Zelda couldn’t hide the smile that reached all the way to her eyes even if she had wanted to.

“Neigh, my home is not a stable nor would I make a suitable travel companion,” she read aloud.

“It’s obviously referring to a horse,” Purah proceeded as Zelda finished, “but not a friendly one?” Zelda had folded the arm that held the envelope across her body and propped her other elbow atop it, resting her chin on her fingers as she thought about the clue.

“The Royal horse can be a royal pain in the as—“

Symin barely looked up from his book when he interrupted. “The horse statue. Sanidin Park Ruins.” He almost sounded bored, and the others hadn’t even realised he’d been listening.

“Symin!” Purah chastised. “This is supposed to be Zelly’s clue to work out and you just ruined it by giving it all away!”

“It’s okay Purah, I was literally about to make the statue a suggestion, so it’s good to know I’m on the right track!” She had her slate in hand again, map function at the ready.

“I’d love to stay and chat, you know I would but—”

“But you have better things to be doing. I know, I know! Go, go have fun!” Purah all but waved Zelda off, which Zelda might have found offensive d if she wasn’t so excited to continue her quest.

***

Zelda had chosen to warp to Rota Ooh Shrine as opposed to Mogg Latan as it had the added advantage of not being on a mountain (she didn’t have a paraglider to make getting down much easier) and Outskirt Stable was nearby. When she materialised on the shrine platform she wasted no time heading down the hill towards the stable. To think, there was a time when she was desperate to enter these shrines and would baulk at the idea of just walking away so casually. It surprised her to realise that she considered other things to be a better use of her time. Oh, how 100 years can change a person.

She giggled to herself as she approached the counter of the stable, the stable master's face changing to one of recognition as soon as he set eyes on her.

“Ah Princess! We’ve been expecting you! Sir Link came by earlier today and asked us to have a horse ready for your arrival”

And with that she heaved herself into the saddle and nudged the horse into a gallop north-westwards towards Manhala Bridge before following the road round to Safula Hill and the Sanidin Park Ruins where the next clue awaited.

When she unfurled the next clue she was surprised to find no words. It was an image of the ocean with a palm tree. Well, that narrowed it down somewhat. What could she deduct from the clues? What did they have in common? They definitely seemed to be personal in nature, including their shared interest in all things equestrian, her love of the ancient Sheikah tech, and where they met each other again after a century. So this image must also represent something personal to the both of them.

***

“Our first kiss!” she breathed aloud, recalling the day with great fondness.

They’d visited Lurelin Village for a break from rebuilding the kingdom and it had been a perfect getaway. It was on the second day there, after they had spent the day playing on the beach, chasing crabs, fishing and swimming in the ocean. After Link had cooked them dinner over an open fire, they strolled down the beach with the waves gently lapping at their bare feet. The gentle breeze had ruffled her hair and Link had tucked a runaway stand behind her ear, touch gentle and eyes soft. It was like they had been drawn to each other, both leaning in and meeting in the middle where their lips touched in a chaste kiss. They pulled away slightly and both wore furious blushes across their faces. They were about to lean in to share a second kiss when an errant wave splashed them up to their hips, startling them out of the moment. They had laughed and ended up continuing their walk down the beach hand in hand.

She snapped back to the present with a shake of her head. An ancient screw held a piece of parchment onto the palm tree where they had carved their initials in a heart. Zelda turned the screw to find her next clue in the parchment, pocketing the screw for later.

My heart is a puddle where my love runs clear. This was certainly the most cryptic one so far. She couldn’t think of anything that they had done together that involved water or running apart from the oceanside where she currently stood. Zelda looked around somewhat hopelessly. And he said the clues would be simple for me! He really needs to give himself more credit for his intelligence, she thought . And that’s when she spotted it, a sign hanging outside of a nearby hut that detailed excursions to Lover’s Pond.

That must be it, she thought and pulled up the map on the slate, looking around for any sign of Lover’s Pond. That’s when she noticed it, the travel medallion symbol located on the top of Tuft Mountain. He really has thought of everything, she thought before warping to the travel gate Link had planted for her.

***

The view took her breath away and Zelda couldn’t believe her eyes when she inspected the pond structure to discover how it had been made.

“Extraordinary! It’s natural!” But her discoveries were cut short when she noticed a Korok with a leaf propeller floating in the air near a small canvas tent. The Korok waved when Zelda dusted her clothes off and made her way towards it.

“Ya ha ha, you found me!”

“Yes I did, though you aren’t really hiding are you?” Zelda’s lips curled into a small smile

“Mr Hero said that I am the clue,” the Korok responded.

“And that’s all he said?”

The little forest spirit shrugged. “He said if you were really stuck to tell you that you aren’t lost because you found me.”

Curious, she pondered. I found a Korok… a lost Korok…

“It’s the Lost Woods! Or more specifically, Korok Forest within the Lost Woods, isn’t it?” She was quite pleased with herself.

“That’s the one!” The Korok all but beamed back at her.

“Thank you Mr. … erm, I’m sorry I don’t know your name.” She flushed and went to scratch the back of her neck before realising what she was doing and stopping herself. A habit she was clearly picking up from Link.

“Twiley,” the korok grinned, “but all my friends call me Twiglet, and I like to think we are friends, Miss Princess Goddess!”

Zelda chose to ignore the nickname and made a note in her mind to ask Link about it later.

“Well thank you Mr. Twiglet,” Zelda said as she cupped the little Korok in her hands and gave him a peck on his little leafy cheek. If Koroks could blush, Zelda swore Twiglet turned scarlet.

“Yep. Mr. Hero is right! He is one lucky guy!” Twiglet gave a cheeky grin and waved as Zelda began to vanish in a stream of blue light once again.

***

“Great Deku tree, it is good to see you again, old friend. Tell me, has Link left anything here for me?” Zelda asked while bowing respectfully to the elder tree.

“Indeed, your hero was here earlier, young princess.” Wooden cheeks rose with a smile.

“What did he tell you?” Zelda hadn’t meant to be so blunt but she couldn’t hold her excitement. She had to be coming to the end of the quest by now.

“Now, words intended for you would sound so much better in his voice would they not?” and a branch seemingly pointed towards the podium where the Master Sword once rested. Hestu stood beside it.

“Shaka! Place the slate where the sword once was and YAHA!” Hestu began dancing along with his explanation. “Secret clue, shakalaka!”

Zelda laughed at the exuberant display and placed the slate on the pedestal. She and Hestu watched in awe as the screen began to light up in a blue glow. Once it was finished glowing and remained motionless on the pedestal, Hestu spoke up.

“Well, dontcha wanna know what he said? Let’s see!” His maracas vibrated in excitement as Zelda stepped forward and took the slate in hand once more.

Tapping the slate made a video begin to play, and she beamed as Link’s face filled the screen in front of her, trying to prop the slate at a level where he could be seen clearly.

“Hey, my love!” He grinned at the screen and gave the back of his neck a scratch like he always did when he felt awkward. Suddenly, the image was tilting away from him.

She couldn’t help the watery smile and hiccupping giggle that bloomed across her features when she saw Link scramble to catch the slate and decide to just hold it at arms length to continue.

“I can’t wait to see you, baby girl, so hurry up and finish the quest already!”

Zelda wiped her tears on her arm as Link continued.

“Your prize awaits where the cherry blossoms bloom the brightest under the protection of the lord.”

Satori mountain! Her thoughts rang in her head although she couldn’t concentrate. Zelda’s eyes were still watery when the video finished playing, and the Deku tree suggested she sit for a moment while the Koroks brought out a small picnic that Link had packed for her and stored inside the tree. At first the sight of the picnic had made her cry again, overwhelmed at how thoughtful Link was and how lucky she felt to be with him.

After she ate the Koroks began to entertain her, putting on little shows and plays, and she had to admit that their amateur dramatics were very good. They included her in some of their performances and before she knew it Zelda was laughing, running around and playing with the Koroks.

It wasn’t until she accidently dropped the slate onto the ground,checking it for damage with a worried furrow in her brow, that she noticed the time. She had been here for far too long and needed to carry on her treasure hunt.

Upon announcing her departure the Koroks all chorused their disappointed “awws” and “ooohs” but were soon hushed by the Deku Tree as he wished the princess a farewell.

“Don’t be a stranger!” he said just before she had clicked her next teleportation location.

And as she began to vanish, she thought she heard Hestu shout “and go get that hero!” though she wasn’t sure.

***

She arrived at the Satori mountain shrine when the sun was dipping towards the horizon and the birds were starting their evening chorus’. She inhaled the cool evening air and stretched her arms high above her head before ascending the mountain in the hopes that she was nearly upon her prize.

Gooseflesh rose on her bare arms where her sweat from the walk up the mountain began to cool as she walked between a section of mountain that had been split in two. Somehow Zelda felt a sense of calm wrap around her senses as the aroma of cherry blossoms made a home in her nostrils.

She rounded the corner and stopped in her tracks. Zelda had to make a conscious effort not to let her jaw drop in stunned awe as she laid eyes on Link for the first time that day (far too long if you asked her). He knelt beneath the cherry blossom tree with a blue glow highlighting his features, his hand outstretched towards a small blue creature. A blupee! Zelda thought excitedly as her breath hitched in her throat.

The noise wasn’t loud, but the blupee turned its head nonetheless, and upon noticing the newcomer to their little glade it ran off, taking the glowing blue light with it. It didn’t matter though: The bright smile on Link’s features as he stood and made his way towards her could outshine the blupees any day. Hell, it could outshine the lord of the mountain himself, Zelda thought as she took in the softness of her loves eyes.

“Was that —?”

Her question was cut short as Link reached her, cupping her cheek with his hand and tilting his head as if appreciating a masterpiece.

“Hey,” he gently muttered as he pulled her into his chest for a fond embrace and suddenly, Zelda had goosebumps that weren’t related to feeling chilly anymore.

“Hi,” she whispered as they parted and Link took one of her hands in his and led her to the edge of the cliff, hanging back to let her take in the whole scene in front of her.

The view stole her breath, stole her voice and stunned her into a silence that was full of adoration. Link thought he hadn’t seen anything so beautiful in his entire life, and he wasn’t looking at the view.

The sun was cresting the horizon now, painting the sky in a dusk time glow of oranges and yellows that bathed Zelda in its warmth and made her look like a goddess. She is a goddess, Link thought, and he swallowed the lump in his throat as he approached her, wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling his nose into her neck. The smell of the cherry blossoms were nothing compared to the smell of her hair and her skin. Her beauty was divine.

She hummed and melted into his arms as they watched the sun slowly dip below the horizon and the stars began to twinkle above.

“Link.” Her words were breathy as she turned toward him, and he could feel her heart rate as he took hold of her wrists.

“It’s so beauti —” she began only to be stunned into silence once more when she turned to realise that Link had dropped to one knee in front of her. He slid his hands from her wrists to her hands instead, bringing each to his lips in a tender kiss. Zelda could only watch as the dying light shone as bright as the sun in his eyes.

Her mouth opened and she was about to speak, but Link got there first.

“Zelda, my princess, I love you with everything that I am and still, I am unworthy of your greatness —”

She was about to protest when he carried on.

“— but I will spend the rest of my days trying to become worthy of you. I want to be by your side always as the goddess intended for us. All that I am, I happily give to you. My love, my heart, my body, my soul. Everything.”

He pulled out the ring he designed with Isha. Zelda gasped when she saw it: Seven gemstones in total, three on each side of a stunning diamond centerpiece. She couldn’t stop the tears that began to flood her eyes.

Link, his eyes also glassy with tears, took her left hand in his again and looked up to her with hope and adoration adorning his features.

“I give you this ring as a promise to be by your side always, to share in the good times and the bad, the triumphs and defeats. To get through it all together, side by side, like we always have.

“Zelda, forever the queen of my heart — will you marry me?”

Tears ran freely down her cheeks now as she dropped to her knees to be level with him. He wanted to protest about her kneeling on the dirty ground but didn’t get the chance.

“Never say you aren’t worthy, Link. You are my champion, my saviour and my whole entire world. If I am to rule this kingdom I need you to be by my side. Not as my knight, or as the goddess’ chosen hero, but as my husband and my equal.” She gripped his hands tighter then and took a deep breath to calm her shaky voice and teary eyes.

“Is … is that a yes then?” Link asked with hope lacing his words, his eyes bright with promise.

“Yes, Link! Goddesses, yes, of course I’ll marry you!” And with that he slipped the ring in its rightful place on her left hand. He’d hardly got it past her knuckle when she launched herself at him in the tightest hug ever, planting kisses all over his face as peals of her laughter rang out into the twilight air.

Link cupped her cheek in his hand and wiped her tears away with his thumb. They both smiled giddily at each other, basking in the glow of their love. Zelda tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear with her left hand, her new ring glinting in the light, and he took her hand in his for them both to admire how his ring looked, sat prettily on her finger. His heart swelled with pride as he glanced at her.

“I love you, my princess” he whispered.

“And I love you, my prince.” He barely had time for the grin to reach his features before she pulled him to her to seal their engagement with a kiss.

At the peak of the mountain range the lord of the mountain stood proud - peace time was well and truly upon a very deserving Hyrule.

#zelinktines month #zelinktines 2022 #day 10 - Proposal #Zelink #They deserve to be happy!

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gwynrielsupremacist · 3 years

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A COURT OF LIGHT AND SHADOWS

Chapter 3: Nerves

Read at AO3

If Gwyn had thought the day before had been one of the worst of her short but experienced life, she was wrong.

That day promised many more problems.

Especially like asking Azriel if he could go with her to buy a dress and not get ridiculed in front of everyone when he probably said no.

She swallowed hard and clenched her abs, telling herself there were only 2 minutes left until that damn exercise was over and she could go to the library to continue the work that Merrill had imposed on her.

"Legs together, Berdara." Azriel's voice brought her out of her thoughts, turning her head to find him looking back, his face as serious as ever. Forcing herself no matter how much pain it caused her, she closed her legs and continued to support her body, preventing from falling flat on the hard floor of the ring.

Satisfied with the change in position, Azriel turned around and continued giving directions to the other priestess who were doing something that he claimed was wrong.

"I'm sure you couldn't even take the 5 minutes I've been like this." She grumbled disdainfully, moving her arms slightly to release tension, feeling droplets of sweat trickle down the neckline of her shirt, cooling her hot skin.

"Possibly he could endure 20 minutes of plank and then be 3 hours running, then do a series of push-ups and sit-ups." Elián answered.

Gwyneth rolled her eyes: "What part are you on? His or mine?" She protested, looking sideways to find Nesta and Emerie in the same situation, grunting with overexertion, cursing how little stamina they had after 3 weeks of absolutely no exercise.

"You have said a piece of information that was wrong. I have corrected it." He remembered.

Gwyn rolled her eyes again, breathing, blasting air through her burning lungs.

Everything burned.

And she still had to figure out what the hell to do with the ceremony. What dress should she choose? A simple one, gala, what color, with or without lace?

She began to feel her head throbbing, deducing that this was a signal to stop thinking about it and focus on maintaining the correct posture so that the two Illyrians controlling the exercises would not scold her.

She had to do the perfect exercises. She had to get Azriel's mocking smile out when he corrected some movement or posture.

Stupid, damn illyrian.

When the two minutes were up, the three Valkyries flopped to the ground, exhausted and sweating like pigs.

"I'm going to make that bastard sweat when we go to that damn cabin." Nesta murmured, making sure her mate wasn't listening to her from the other end of the circle, which was helping a priestess up.

"That's not fair." Emerie muttered, brushing the dust off her leathers. "You are going to spend at least a week having sex on any surface of the cabin but we have to come here, to this hell."

Nesta laughed softly, shrugging her shoulders as she grabbed one leg, stretching it out.

A hiss came from her mouth, possibly all of her muscles were clenched.

"You should do the same." Elián recommended. "Otherwise your whole body will ache."

"I'm the one who has to go through pain, stop behaving like a worried mother." Elián sighed, avoiding giving an answer.

But anyway, she followed the advice of her voice, grabbing the soles of her feet and stretching as long as she was, hearing with satisfaction how it gently creaked her back, undoing the knots that were in the back, in her muscles.

She stayed in that position for a few more seconds, then jumped up.

Next, she grabbed her neck from one side and gently moved it to the other, removing any knots that might be in it.

Finally, she did the same to her legs, hearing them creak slightly.

She went to the water station, putting her hands in the shape of a bowl and immersing them in the tub of water, to later drink from them, wiping the remains of water with the back of her hand.

She walked over to where Nesta and Emerie were, Nesta lying on her back while Emerie was on her belly, avoiding damaging her hurtful wings.

"We deserved 3 more weeks of vacation." Emerie whimpered, putting a hand over her eyes like a visor, blocking out the bright morning sun.

"We deserved more than 3 weeks. For the Cauldron, they almost killed us, we should have had a whole year of vacation." Nesta said, mimicking Emerie's movement, sighing softly when the sun stopped hitting her eyes.

Gwyn sat on the floor, looking at her friends: "I'd rather be up here. I'd spend all day in the library if not for training."

Emerie dropped her hand, glaring at Gwyn: "Haven't you made any headway out of the library yet?"

Gwyn denied.

She had told them at one point in the Blood Rite that she was tired of being in the library, and that she wanted to go out and discover the world.

Sure, it was easier said than done.

"Everything in its time." Nesta considered, grabbing her friend's hand and squeezing, smiling slightly.

Gwyn smirked, squeezing back and stood up, looking up for Azriel.

She needed to get the uncertainty of the dress once and for all.

Unfortunately, she couldn't find the Illyrian anywhere.

She watched as Cassian approached them, lowering his head in greeting. Gwyn followed suit, asking, "By any chance, you don't know where Azriel is?"

Cassian stared at her, then took a quick glance around the ring, surprised when he saw that his friend had disappeared.

"He was here just now." He muttered, scanning until he gave up, giving her half a grimace. "He will be inside the House, I can search for him if you wish." He offered, but the priestess refused, announcing she would look for him herself.

She said goodbye to her friends, Cassian and the priestess she knew, and entered the House of Wind, letting her eyes get used to the artificial light that hung on the walls.

She began to look from place to place, suspicious of what she might find there.

"It's a simple house, Gwyneth, you won't find anything out of the ordinary." Elián reassured her, but it was of little use, since her nerves were on the surface.

"Why the hell did I say I was going to the ceremony?" She whimpered, feeling her heart beat faster and faster, forcing herself to stop, waiting for her heart to calm down.

"If you don't want to go, it's okay. Nesta will understand." He told her.

She knew Nesta would understand her. She was trying enormously to get out of the library and go to the ceremony, and Nesta wouldn't be mad at her if she finally decided not to go.

But Gwyn would be mad at herself.

After all that she had tried, all that she thought she had made progress, she was not going to let fear stop her from enjoying one of her friend's happiest days.

But for now she needed to sit down, she needed to think.

She didn't know where she was, she saw doors and more doors and torches lighting the hallway.

Where the hell had she been?

She frowned, pretending to remember how she had gotten there.

However, she didn't pay attention to where she was going, she had been too busy trying to keep her from having an attack.

She closed her eyes for a few seconds, calming down, as she decided what she should do now.

Looking straight ahead, she decided to walk a little more, searching for any mark on the wall to guide her, until she found herself at the end of the hall.

She spun around, beginning to hyperventilate, feeling cold drops of sweat running down her back.

"There is no way out. There is no way out. There is no way out." She thought, trying to attack her own thoughts, but she couldn't. The fear she felt in her body paralyzed her.

She chewed on her lip until she felt the metallic taste of blood flood her mouth.

She dropped against the wall, hugging her knees to his chest as she said: "I'm the rock against which the surf crashes, nothing can break me, I'm the rock against which the surf crashes, nothing can break me, I'm the rock against which the surf crashes, nothing can break me.

But, of course, there were many things that could break her.

Being in a dark hallway, lost, was one of them.

She didn't know how long she had been in that position, it might as well have been minutes, it might as well have been hours.

But suddenly she heard footsteps. Footsteps of man, noticing the weight of the steps.

She didn't want to raise her head. She must not raise her head.

She knew that Elián was probably speaking to her, but panic prevented from understanding what he wanted to say to her.

She shrugged even more, praying to get smaller and smaller and smaller until she became invisible, closing her eyes and holding her breath. Who was the man who was coming? What did he want from her? What was he going to do to her?

She listened as the stranger moved, as Gwyn prepared to scream, to fight, or to go limp and pray to whatever god was listening at the time that the man in front of her would think she was dead, leaving her alone.

But what happened was much more different.

She began to perceive caresses, as if feathers were grazing her neck, soothing her nerves, while others settled on her arms and legs, doing the same.

She looked up and found the last person she expected to see right now.

Azriel was looking at her with concern and curiosity.

TAG LIST: @bookish-isha @imsointobooks @shisingh @feyretale @niaacotar @flora-shadowshine @tealnymph24 @trashforazriel @hlizr50 @meher-sumedha @heyovivi @positivewitch @greywarens-magician @sageofthegalaxy @valkygwyn @verifiefangirl @verifiefangirl-mainblog @snickerdoodlechittybangbang @genya-berdara @katekatpattywack @secretlovelybeauty @starbornsinger @sv0430 @deedz-thrillerkilller16

#heres chapter 3!#i hope you like it <3 #gwynriel #azriel #gwyn

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aelingalathyniusrailme · 3 years

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If you find me at the edge, we’ll jump together.

Gwynriel pirate au pt 8- you don’t know who I am.

this chapters a little bit shorter because the part that’s coming next would have made it way too long. also check out the other parts. pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6, pt 7

Gwyn’s eyes narrowed and Azriel swore there was venom in her gaze. If he was being perfectly honest, he was slightly turned on.

“Alright, I’ll bite. Why do we need you?” She spat out. Her words were icy, not the passionate, flirty pirate he had come to know, but someone different. Someone new.

Perhaps new was the wrong word, perhaps he had just peeled away another of her many layers. And perhaps, as the days of their time together grew shorter, he had become more and more interested to find who, and what lay beneath.

His mind was an absolute atrocity. Split between the pirate captain he couldn’t rid himself of, his second with secrets and lies curved around his every word, and the fae female before him, who shared history with each of them.

Feyre. It appeared Nesta’s sister was just as lethal as she was, but where Nesta was cruel words and brute strength, Feyre was power of a different kind. Fae.

The first of the archeron’s was ruthless and cold while the third was as immortal as she was dangerous, with a slight superiority complex. Some morbid interest had him curious as to what the second archeron sister would be like.

At that moment Azriel sneezed, interrupting the stare down going on between Berdara and the assassin. He looked around and found the culprit. In a vase on the a shelf was a bouquet of roses. Damn his fucking allergies.

Gwyn turned to him and everything about her softened, amused.

You alright? she snorted a little

Yes I am perfectly fine thank you for asking.

Well this is good news, the infamous pirate captain can be brought down with a simple flower.

A wretched flower.

“Excuse me.” Feyre seemed very agitated. “I would appreciate it if you two could stop looking at each other for one moment.”

Azriel swore he could see Gwyn blush slightly.

“Yes of course, our apologies, please continue.”

“Please don’t” Gwyn mumbled for only Az to hear. His lips twitched in agreement.

“Now you two have half of what you need but you certainly cannot acquire the huge hall with a measly half.”

She paused for a dramatic second. “You have the map and while I’m sure that the phoenix piss worked wonders in uncovering the sigil of The Dragon. But I’m sure you know it does not actually lead you to Amren herself.”

Gwyn and Azriel shared a look. “Oh,” Feyre frowned. “I guess you didn't know that. But you must have known that her island moves with the storm and is constantly moving and the only way to track it down is to use the compass.”

“No, you didn’t know that either?” Feyre’s frown turned upwards in a devilish smirk. “One more piece of information I suppose you need to know. Only a pure blooded fae can use the compass.”

“And why is that?”

“Like calls to like, power recognizes power.”

“Someone’s quite full of herself.”

“I simply speak the truth.”

“Sure you do.”

Azriel sighed, this back and forth would accomplish nothing and he had treasure to find. “How about Captain Berdara and I discuss your proposition in private?”

“What is there to discuss?”

Azriel smiled charmingly, “Not that you aren’t delightful company, but plenty.” Out of the corner of his eye, he swore he saw Gwyn frown.

Feyre looked him over, and then turned her gaze to Gwyn, curling her lip in disgust as she walked out the door. Her footsteps became faint and Gwyn blurted, “Absolutely fucking not.”

Gwyn took a breath, trying to regain her composure, “I do not work with people with conflicting interests.”

“We need her.” He was sure of it, Azriel trusted his gut instincts and his instincts were telling him she was telling the truth, or at least some form of it. Although he far from trusted her. Azriel had learned a long time ago that the only people he could regularly rely on were himself and his crew.

She swallowed, her eyes turning steel, and her gaze becoming daggers, “No.” She turned away, about to walk out the door. Her shoulders back and her chin high. Even in her moments of vulnerability she would not sacrifice her pride.

“Gwyn.” The sound of her name from his lips was enough to stop her.

Her voice was faint, the words barely there, “What did you just say.”

His words softened, “Gwyn.” He said again as she breathed in sharply, “I will not pretend as if I understand you even remotely.” She snorted. “But I do not believe you are the kind of person to be swayed from your goals. You go after what you want with a ferocity that could rival any. And I know you want this.” Gwyn shifted on her feet as if preparing for a fight. It was a nervous tic, he realized. “Whoever you were when you knew that woman is not who you are now.”

“And who am I now?”

“Infuriating, stubborn, a royal pain in my ass.” She laughed weakly. “You’re a lot of things Berdara, but you are not stupid and you know as well as I that we require her services.”

“So what is it you said to me? Ah yes suck it up and think of the money.”

Gwyn flexed her fingers and squared her shoulders, clearly still itching for a fight. But then she did something unexpected, her body relaxed and she exhaled slowly. “You’re right.”

Azriel was pretty sure he was having a stroke. “I’m sorry, say that again but slower this time.”

In a flash she had him pinned to the table with her knee pressing on his chest and a dagger to his throat. “I’ve said those words three other times in my life, every one of them ended up with their heads on the ground and their balls in the sea. Don’t make me regret it and don’t expect it again.”

He believed every word and yet the dagger was held with almost no pressure so he smirked in agreement, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

She got off of him and wiped her clothes, “To be clear we are going to screw over feyre archeron right?”

“You have to ask?”

Gwyn’s smile was one of pure insanity as she murmured, “Maybe this will be fun after all.”

He walked to the door and opened it, standing to the side as he held out his hand mockingly, “Your majesty,” She breezed through the door without giving him so much as a glance and when they found Feyre and their combined crew, god Azriel despised this women.

Feyre was holding Cassian, a man who was double her size, by the ankles as others watched with bored expressions on their faces. Cassian was grinning like an idiot, Nesta however, looked like she was 0.2 seconds away from throwing a knife into her sister's chest. Azriel didn’t blame her.

“Feyre, drop it.” Gwyn scolded.

“What am I? A dog?” She growled.

“That’s an insult to dogs.” Nesta muttered.

Gwyn laughed but instead of continuing this useless back and forth she spoke again, “Feyre if you acquire us this compass and prove that it works as you say it does, then we will agree to your terms.”

“Thought you might say something like that.”

“Well?” He asked.

“Well, a certain day court event will be expecting a few more members.”

Rhysand, surprisingly, groaned, “Oh my god no.”

Emerie questioned, “Wait what?”

“Feyre darling is taking us to the sun ball.”

Tagging: @imsointobooks @meher-sumedha @himadrij @gwynrielsupremacy @ipsa-est-lux-plenae @flora-shadowshine @allthebooksunderthemoon @valkygwyn @bookish-isha @lattristantketchup @generalnesta @brieq @sv0430 @carsonjade12523 @aelinismyreligion @gwynrielisunmatched @shisingh @sarcasticsugarcookie @feyretale (let me know if you want to be added or removed.”

#gwynriel #gwyn berdara #azriel #gwynriel pirate au #nessian #feysand #nesta archeron #feyre archeron #cassian #rhysand #emerie

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isha-feinberg · 2 years

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history unwritten | bode & isha | ruina rex & the funeral

@bodelevy-lindqvist

[Isha has noticed a tremor in her right hand. It started soon after Kaiser’s death, and it wasn’t a tremor of fear or nerves. It was anger, raw and bloody, and there was only so tight she could clench her fist before the bloodiness beaded up along the faint lines of her palm. She remembered the weight of a knife in that palm, and how something so simple as a strip of sharp metal had given her such a sense of control.

The raw anger tastes the same as it had when the NWRF had taken over, and Isha swallows it, and swallows it, and swallows it, because if she spits it out then eyes will be on her. It is just so, intensely, disappointing. She had truly thought Kaiser might be a revolution. It was in him: from namesake to posture, he was a man made to lead. Was he chaotic and unnecessarily violent and foul? Certainly. But he opposed the NWRF more boldly than anyone else dared to.

And all for nothing. He had died. Isha has not decided yet if she believes the natural causes thing. It’s not entirely unlikely, but she does tend to think the worst of people. It would of course be extremely stupid to outright murder Kaiser, but that would make for a compelling double bluff.

The only reason she doesn’t have a headache from the tension in her jaw was the fact that Ada had been by her side at the funeral delivering a running commentary of utterly inappropriate comments. Regrettably, her attempts to smuggle a bottle of wine beneath her coat had a guard escort her out, leaving Isha alone. She didn’t mind this particularly; holding a little sandwich, carefully resting on a napkin, she drifts and she watches. The memorial is disappointing, and she has half a mind to kick it all over and get up to make a speech about how completely absurd all these people are for politely murmuring at a funeral as if Kaiser wouldn’t have been inciting a riot if he could.

Pausing at one of the tables, Isha pours herself a small glass of wine. She doesn’t care to drink much, as she loathes the out of control feeling of drunkenness, but a small amount on rare occasions does help to quell her rage. It is now that she sees Bode, not that his lanky frame is easily missed. Isha is tall, but he towers over her.]

Oh, my goodness. You came inside the chapel, and you didn’t burst into flames. Good for you. [Her mouth smiles. Her eyes don’t. Maybe the smile is just because she slips immediately into Danish, and likes the familiarity of her mother tongue on her lips. Bode had been extremely dramatic about the concept of churches, so she’s surprised to see him here. And admittedly a little curious, because it must be a strong feeling indeed to compel a man like that to cross onto holy ground.]

#bode #bode: history unwritten #this got longer than i intended #bc i hadnt established isha's thoughts on the death #my next will surely be shorter

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kashvis · 3 years

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😢 most memorable time you cried

Kashvi lives her life ruled by her bleeding heart and so it is only logical that it gets broken every now and then. She extends the beating organ to men and women she wishes to devote her life to and sometimes, even if they treat it kindly, they return it fractured. Arun Zhao was such a man. A promise of a future Kashvi longs for. Besides her dreams of power and glory, she wants something quite menial and simple: a person to love and hold, a couple of children to call her own, a wedding band gracing her finger. And he was a step to that, the house they shared and love that lived between them a promise. But futures aren’t built on top of secrets and so he leaves. Kashvi cries in her mother’s arms. It is not unusual for her to find comfort in the arms of Isha when her heart breaks. At fourteen, she told a boy she loved him even though they had kissed only once, and he’d clumsily abandoned her, not sure how to reply. Then, she had cried into her phone with her mother on the other side, and when she is thirty and her heart breaks once more, she drives out to Cobham to find a similar comfort. Her mother cups her face and presses a kiss on her forehead and says “You are more than he ever will be and he simply could not handle it.” It is not the heartbreak that makes this memorable, but the persistence of her mother’s love. The comfort of her arms, the unrelenting warmth extended to her. Love may wax and wane, but it never leaves — that Kashvi learns that evening, once again.

#& answer.

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popentertainment-moviereviews · 3 years

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THE OUTSIDE STORY (2020)

Starring Brian Tyree Henry, Sonequa Martin-Green, Asia Kate Dillon, Sunita Mani, Olivia Edward, Michael Cyril Creighton, Maria Dizzia, Rebecca Naomi Jones, Matthew Maher, Hannah Bos, Jordan Carlos, Lynda Gravatt, Paul Thureen, Nadia Bowers, Diego Alvarado, Jorge Alvarado, Melanie Brook, Josh Chae and Hanna Cheek.

Screenplay by Casimir Nozkowski.

Directed by Casimir Nozkowski.

Distributed by Samuel Goldwyn Films. 85 minutes. Not Rated.

Sometimes, with little or no warning, you run across a small film that turns out to be a little gem. The Outside Story is one of those times.

The storyline is so simple as to be non-existent, and yet it opens up into a sweet and eccentric love note to modern lives and communities. In certain ways The Outside Story reminded me of a much less explosive version of Spike Lee’s breakthrough film Do the Right Thing, which introduces you to the citizens of a smart and vibrant New York borough and all of its diversity.

Of course, rather than a late-80s run-down Brooklyn, The Outside Story sets its sights on a post-gentrification new-millennium neighborhood in the same area.

Our tour guide on this trip is Charles (Brian Tyree Henry). Charles is a total homebody – he’s inching towards agoraphobia – who suddenly finds himself locked out of his second-floor apartment. He must wait around to be let back into his sanctuary, with no shoes, no ID, no phone charger and little money.

Charles has a spectacularly dead-end job – he edits celebrity obituary stories for TMC (Turner Movie Channel). His boss is on his back because an iconic actor is near death and he needs the video tribute for the moment that man dies, but Charles was obsessing about getting the video just right – and now his laptop is locked away out of his reach.

Charles has recently broken up with Isha, the one woman who seems to understand him (Sonequa Martin-Green), because he is jealous that she shared a curious kiss with a lesbian co-worker. He can’t call her to get the keys because he is still madly jealous.

Therefore he must sit around the stoop of his brownstone and wait on a friend (who he may have given an emergency key to, but Charles isn’t sure, nor is the friend), or his landlord (who is in another part of town caring for his mother).

Slowly but surely, he starts to meet and interact with some of his colorful neighbors – a sweet local widow, a shy little girl, an uptight traffic cop, a massively pregnant hipster woman, two little hoodlums with water balloons, the lady his girlfriend had kissed and her lesbian lover. Charles starts to learn more about them, their neighborhood, and his own life.

He starts to experience, in many ways for the first time, the wonders of his little neighborhood and its people; the restaurants, the shops, the parks, the art, the sidewalk sales, the camaraderie. He gets to know more of the back stories of people he’d have merely nodded to or actively avoided previously – if he saw them at all. He comes to question his life choices, his jealousies and his insularity. He even realizes that he doesn’t hate cats (although he is still very allergic to them).

Not much happens in The Outside Story, and at the same time, everything does.

The Outside Story is not so much plot driven as it is character driven. Still, a surprisingly robust number of things happens to Charles in the matter of hours that he is locked out of his home. There is even a very timely encounter with police violence, although happily it ends on a much more positive note than many of these situations do.

The Outside Story is a clever and sweet celebration of city life and will probably be a pleasant surprise for those coming into it with no clue about what they are about to experience.

Jay S. Jacobs

#The Outside Story #2021 #Movie Review #Brian Tyree Henry #Jay S. Jacobs

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medinainternational · 8 months

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(Motif-Radio) rEGGAE PON TOP # 29 2023 TRACK LISTING:

RIDDIMS: PROPHECY RIDDIM ROCK HARD RIDDIM SANITY RIDDIM TOWER ISLE RIDDIM

#SoundCloud #music #Motif-Radio #roots reegae #Dancehall #lover's rock #dubplates

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ecoamerica · 25 days

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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legalservicesoflawyers · 3 years

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Know Complete Process of Khula Certificate in Pakistan and Property Division By Law Firms

Khula Certificate in Pakistan and Property Division:

For the cases of property division of to issue khula certificate in Pakistan through divorce lawyers in Lahore please contact Jamila Law Associates. These commands to be just concern residence in the native land, but when he proceeds on a journey, he may take any of his wives along. But it is better if he draws a lottery to choose one before khula certificate in Pakistan through divorce lawyers in Lahore.

Get Know About The Nights Applies to a Man:

The equality in spending the nights applies to a man who is idle at nights, but those who are occupied at nights like guards will give equality and the same things during day time. The days will be regarded as nights for them. A SEPARATE HOME It is essential to give a separate home to each wife. It is not allowed to compel both to stay in the same house. However, if both are willing then it is allowed to keep them together as long as they are willing. The man for whom it is wajib to be just in the night, it is not proper to also include another in the turn of one wife.

He cannot go to another wife when it is the turn of one. It is not proper that while he begins one wife's turn after Maghrib, he begins another's after Isha. Similarly, it is not proper to stay at both places for some time during one night. However, if one wife gives her permission to relax the ruling 9, 10, and 11 then it is proper (in each case) until khula certificate in Pakistan through divorce lawyers in Lahore is issued.

How to Get Khula Certificate After Khula in Pakistan:

Most of the females ask a question that how can we get the khula in Pakistan? Here the opportunity to know the khula procedure in Pakistan. Through the procedure of khula in Pakistan, you can easily resolve your issue about the dissolution of marriage in Pakistan. Our law firm in Lahore Pakistan will provide you the best lawyer and advocate for prepare the divorce deed in the light of khula Pakistani Law. If overseas Pakistani want to get a divorce then you need to follow the khula Pakistan family Law. The Khula Procedure for overseas Pakistani is not very difficult. The Khula process in Pakistan is very simple & easy for the overseas Pakistani And Pakistani. In case of more details call advocate Jamila Ali @ 0092-3234910089 and visit our website directly. We will guide you with the complete information related to the dissolution of marriage in Pakistan.

Best Divorce Lawyer in Lahore Pakistan:

Just as it is proper to stay for some part of the night with each in the same way it is proper to do that after their turns are over and then determine their turns as he deems appropriate before khula certificate in Pakistan through divorce lawyers in Lahore. (Shani) 14, Equality is not wajib for visits during the day. Rather shorts visits are enough or, if he goes to only one wife for some purpose then to it is proper.

Sexual Intercourse with a Wife During the Day:

It is not proper to have sexual intercourse with a wife during the day if it is not her turn that night. It is the husband's prerogative to determine the length of the turn but it should not be prolonged to such an extent that the other has to endure the wait, for instance, a year each. If a husband stays at one home during his illness then on recovery he must stay as many days at the other's home. Also, if a wife is seriously ill then there is no harm in staying at her home to attend to her before khula certificate in Pakistan through divorce lawyers in Lahore. (Alamgiri) And it seems that these days too should be redeemed. One wife may give her turn to another. She can take it back when she likes. (Islah Inqilab v-2 P-43) For details please contact Jamila Law Associates.

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tearofisha · 4 years

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Disquiet Ghosts Of Khaine: 1.

The Death Of Aevytal.

As a boy, I was raised on the legends of Asuryan and Eldanesh. Heroes that fought for what was right and whose sacrifice is carried in the blood of every Aeldari walking the blood-soaked stars today. Naive as I was, I hoped that when my time came to die on the battlefield it would be enough to make the vaunted heroes of my bloodline proud. When my time came as I knew it would, I prayed the stars would remember the name Aevytal. I was a fool for thinking the universe would be so kind.

It was a simple mission in essence. The Exodite planet "Isha'Verdane'inais" or "Isha's Grove" as the locals called it was in the path of an incoming Tyranid fleet and was doomed, so an evacuation of the reluctant farmers was needed. In my ritual guise as a Dire Avenger we rode in a Wave Serpent with half a dozen of the evacuated Exodites and all was going as planned; uneventful as all well thought through plans should. But when the Farseers were reading their runes and making their machinations they did not consider the hot blooded idiocy of humanity.

The soft discontented grumblings of the Exodites was interrupted by a piercing scream of tearing Wraithbone and before any of us knew it, the Wave Serpent was plummeting to the forested earth below. Plasma burned through the hull in scintillating heat and panic consumed the evacuees.

"Brace for impact!" the pilot cried, over the distressing din of alarms and screaming. My Exarch, Thermain T'shallak, placed a hand on my shoulder, I had slain a thousand enemies beside the Priest of Khaine and trusted him like no other. "Be steady, Asuryani" he spoke softly, and so I readied myself for what was to come. One heartbeat later, we crashed into the infamously thick forest floor of Isha's Grove.

I don't know how long I was unconscious for, but when I awoke the burning wreckage of the Wave Serpent was distant and the bodies of its inhabitants neatly dragged clear. Exarch Thermain stood over them all, the pilot, all the Exodites and three of my squad were among the dead. Only my Exarch, myself and one other were alive. Groggy, I tried to move and was instantly made aware of my broken right arm when the stab of agony coursed through me. There was to be no resistance, this was an evacuation, something was deeply, deeply wrong. As my head reared in pain, I saw what resembled a shooting star in the cloudless nights sky. Not a shooting star, no, a Drop Pod. Not one either, dozens. Isha's mercy, the Space Marines were coming.

"Deathwatch." the Exarch spoke with contempt. Deathwatch, the Imperium's prime xenos hunters. Of course, we were the xenos. In spite of our lineage in the stars and mastery over the universe before humanity crawled out the primordial slime of their world we would stil be hunted by xenophobic children who hated the things that were different to themselves.

"Exarch, we must retreat. The Webway Gate is not so far, we can make it!" the Avenger pleaded to his officer. By way of answer, the Exarch drew his Diresword and silently watched as the largest Pod in the sky drifted towards the earth mere feet away from the wreckage of the Wave Serpent. One second later, the doors exploded off the pod and five towering warriors stepped out. Clad in black, save for their own pauldron's unique heraldry they marched forward with Bolters raised. One removed his helmet, revealing the harsh features of a hardened warrior, the Sergeant it seemed.

"Xenos scum." it spoke to the Exarch Thermain. "We will accept your surrender or you and your men will die"

"There will be no surrender, Mon'keigh." the Exarch spoke flatly, as he took a defensive pose. Shuriken spat forth from his wrist mounted weapon and was joined a moment later by more from the lone survivor. I only wish my arm were fine so I could join the fire, but I was helpless to do so and as yet unseen by the hulking Marines. One of the gigantic warriors let out a choked snarl as he was wounded but the remaining Space Marines made short work of the sole survivor, his body strewn with bolter-shell holes. The Exarch ducked and weaved the explosive shells, his Diresword meeting the neck joint of the wounded Marine, slaying him but instantly he was met with the Power Sword of the Sergeant.

"If you wish to kill me, Marine, you must do it like a true warrior" The Exarch taunted, before saluting with his blade.

A duel began, the Thermain fought like a fencer feinted and used his speed to scratch and poke at the joints of the Sergeant's armour while the Deathwatch warrior resembled a furious blacksmith, heavy powerful blows slung wide never meeting his agile opponent. With the greatest of finesse, the Exarch finally disarmed his opponent and with Diresword angled towards the heart of his enemy he made for the killing blow. The strike that would never come, as the remaining Space Marines emptied their Bolters into the Exarchs body. As if in mockery, the Deathwatch Sergeant recovered his blade and placed the tip through the Exarchs chest, shattering his Spiritstone. Held aloft from the impact of the strike like a banner raised in victory, the soul of the Priest of Khaine fell into the clutches of She Who Thirsts for a fate worse than death.

The injustice was too much for me and through the haze of agony I cried after the killers in my rusty Gothic tongue. "Honour-less bastards, have you no shame?"

I don't know if it was the anger, the fear or the knowledge of what awaited my Exarch but I found my feet and was marching towards the Space Marines, broken arm and all. From my belt, I uncoupled a Plasma Grenade and held it tightly.

"Face me and meet your false Emperor like warriors." that got their attention. Multiple Bolters instantly pointed in my direction but the bravado of an unarmed and wounded man halted them long enough for my ploy.

"Ah, another. Excellent. The Inquisition will be most satisfied we have a toy for the dissection table." the Sergeant scoffed, to a murmur of laughter.

One foot before another, I continued my approach. The warmth of the Plasma Grenade buzzing in the palm of my hand, I readied for my sacrifice.

"Please, I am wounded. I need help, I need a healer, something. Anything. I'll give you information, coordinates. Whatever you want, just help me."

The Sergeant was within striking distance. With all my remaining strength, I swung my arm in an arc aimed for the face of the Deathwatch Sergeant. Time slowed and the faces of my life flashed before me. My mother, my lovers, my friends and shrine brethren I had spent hundreds of years on dozens of paths with. I closed my eyes, and said goodbye. Please, Gods, let this be remembered.

The expected explosion didn't come and in my emotional and painful haze, I didn't see the hand reach to catch mine. The armoured fist of the Sergeant wrapped around my wrist. like he was accosting a child. One effortless flick later and the grenade fell harmlessly from my hand. I cursed, my plan had failed and now I would be a prisoner to the Deathwatch. The Sergeant raised me off the ground by my arm and I dangled unresistant, he looked me like a giant would a delicious morsel, something resembling a smile crossed his scarred lips. Smug bastard.. With the last of my strength, I furiously kicked the Sergeant in the nose and felt the satisfying crack of cartilage beneath my boot. My death will not be without struggle. Blood poured from the broken nose and a snarl of irritation followed. A hard strike from his bolt pistol whipped me through the air and onto my back. My senses screamed, my ears were ringing and I could taste blood, but that was least of my concerns. The Sergeant threw down his pistol and picked me up by the neck. With the life fading from me, I stared into his features. Cold grey eyes were deep set with the many thousand years of life etched into deep wrinkles. The signs of augmentation poked from the skin like rivets and most notably a tattoo of the Imperial Eagle rested on an angular cheekbone. This was to be the face of my killer. He pulled me close, so he whispered almost intimately into my ear.

"When you meet your heathen Gods, Xenos. Tell them Sergeant Arnam Trask sent you to them."

The sword that killed my Exarch exploded through my gut. A cry came unbidden from deep within, my legs flailed and I weakly striked at my killer as the colour drained from my life. With one last gaze at Arnam Trask, everything faded and I knew no more.

#hey friends #chapter one #ulthwe #wraithblade #fanfic #40k #story #how badly do i want to work for black library huh #anyway #please enjoy #reblogs are very appreciated #more to come #aevytal #deathwatch #eldar #space elves getting space killed #this is me working out my internalised hatred of space marines

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thegrandimago · 4 years

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Humans have long believed that planting trees, any kind of tree, anywhere, is good, something Mother Nature cries out for, something that might even solve our climate crisis. Tree-planting initiatives proliferate: the Bonn Challenge, Trees for the Future, Trees Forever, the 10 Billion Tree Tsunami, Plant a Billion Trees, 8 Billion Trees, the Trillion Tree Campaign, the One Trillion Trees Initiative, to mention just a few.

The passion for planting trees comes partly from the fact that, in some places, they sequester carbon. This has been broadly interpreted to mean that festooning the Earth with trees will solve the problem of climate change, which is why tree-planting programs are so popular with carbon polluters seeking to avoid cleanup costs. President Donald Trump, for example, instantly embraced the One Trillion Tree Initiative launched in January by the World Economic Forum, pledged U.S. participation, and then gushed about it in his State of the Union address: “To protect the environment, days ago, I announced that the United States will join the One Trillion Tree Initiative, an ambitious effort to bring together government and the private sector to plant new trees in America and around the world.”

Planting trees can be beneficial, especially in countries where predatory logging and other land abuse has destroyed soil stability and deprived people of shade, clean water, fish, and fruit. But such initiatives are the exception. Mass plantings are apt to do more harm than good. And it’s nearly impossible to distinguish decent projects from bad ones.

First there is the problem of duplicity, not unusual among tree-planting outfits. Consider Plant for the Planet, the organization behind the Trillion Tree Campaign. In March 2019, the German newspaper Die Zeit revealed that the group’s website was rife with untruths. For example, one person—a “Valf F.” from France—was reported to have single-handedly planted 682 million trees.

The other, larger problem is the ecological havoc tree planters can wreak if they are not careful. Few divulge what species they plant. Fewer still commit to planting only native species. Those who do commit are apt to plant monocultures, which are nearly worthless to wildlife and vulnerable to disease, insects, and wind. Forests are complex machines with millions of meshing parts. You can’t plant a forest; you can only plant a plantation.

Trees planted in wrong places, particularly places that are naturally treeless, do more harm than good and trash native ecosystems. Prairies, for example, provide important habitat for all manner of wildlife. But ever since European settlement, Americans have been destroying them with trees. When J. Sterling Morton moved to Nebraska from Michigan in 1854, he decided that Mother Nature had gotten it all wrong. In due course he called forth “a grand army of husbandmen … to battle against the timberless prairies,” and on April 10, 1872, established the first Arbor Day. Twenty-four hours later, Nebraskan prairies had been degraded by roughly 1 million planted trees.

Tree planting, especially on Arbor Day, became a national obsession. In celebration of the 100th anniversary of Arbor Day, the Nebraska-based Arbor Day Foundation was formed. It hasn’t deviated far from Morton’s mindset. Join and you can receive 10 free Colorado blue spruce seedlings with instructions on how to plant them. This would be fine if you live in the central or southern Rockies. But everywhere else, these trees are aliens.

Illustrating the extent of our current tree-planting craze is the recent marketing of biodegradable coffee cups impregnated with tree seeds. Not only do they encourage littering, but they guarantee that wrong trees will be planted in wrong places.

But such slapdash planting is an American tradition. In 1876, possibly inspired by Arbor Day, a man named Ellwood Cooper sought to improve his 2,000-acre, mostly treeless ranch near Santa Barbara, California, with 50,000 eucalyptus seedlings. They shot up 40 feet in just three years, an unheard-of growth rate for which they became known as “miracle trees.” Eucalyptus trees are not native to California.

Shortly thereafter, the University of California and the state Department of Forestry distributed free eucs for everyone to plant. Prairies, chaparral, and cutover forestland were jammed full of these aliens. One hundred years after the first Arbor Day, 271,800 acres of eucalyptus had been planted in the U.S., 197,700 of them in California.

When I inserted my arm into euc leaf and bark litter in Bolinas, California, I couldn’t touch the bottom. That’s because the microbes and insects that eat it are in Australia, not California. Native plant communities can’t survive in these plantations because eucs kill competition with their own herbicide, creating what botanists call “eucalyptus desolation.” Eucs evolved with fire and prosper from it. Their tops don’t just burn; they explode. Living near them is like living beside a gasoline refinery staffed by chain smokers.

But eucs remain popular in California. They’re still being planted. And agencies seeking to protect the public and recover native ecosystems by razing eucs inevitably face the fury of eucalyptus lovers who have, for example, accused them of being “plant Nazis.”

According to a mantra heard for more than three decades, trees are good, even if they disrupt native ecosystems, because they can serve as carbon sinks. In 1988, the then–113-year-old American Forestry Association (now American Forests) initiated its Global ReLeaf campaign under the shibboleth“Plant a tree, cool the globe.” Too bad it’s not that simple. A study led by the Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory concludes that any carbon sequestration benefit from trees planted much north of Florida is more than offset because solar heat absorbed and retained by the trees makes the climate warmer.

The notion that any significant percent of the carbon humanity spews can be sucked up by planted trees is a pipe dream. But it got rocket boosters in July, when Zurich’s Crowther Lab published a paper, in Science, proclaiming that planting a trillion trees could store “25 percent of the current atmospheric carbon pool.” That assertion is ridiculous, because planting a trillion trees, one-third of all trees currently on earth, is impossible. Even a start would require the destruction of grasslands (prairies, rangelands, and savannas) that reflect rather than absorb solar heat and that, with current climate conditions, are better carbon sinks than natural forests, let alone plantations. Also, unlike trees, grasslands store most of their carbon underground, so it’s not released when they burn.

The Crowther paper horrified climate scientists and ecologists, 46 of whom wrote a rebuttal, explaining that planting trees in the wrong places would exacerbate global warming, create fire hazards, and devastate wildlife. They rebuked the authors for “suggesting grasslands and savannas as potential sites for restoration using trees” and for overestimating by a factor of 5 “potential for new trees to capture carbon.”

Tree plantations are already destroying natural areas that are far more efficient at storing carbon—wetlands, for example. When organic detritus is trapped underwater it can’t release carbon because there’s no oxygen for decomposition. Carbon sequestration efficiency of coastal wetlands (marshes, mangroves and seagrasses) actually increases with global warming because, as sea levels rise, more and more storage space for detritus becomes available.

Ill-conceived tree plantings can dewater wetlands. Consider the yet-to-be-launched initiative to plant 2.4 billion trees in India’s Cauvery River basin, which is the brainchild of the Isha Foundation, based in Coimbatore, India. Leonardo DiCaprio, whose foundation is a major backer, received a letter in September from 95 of India’s environmental and public interest groups that cited litigation against the plan. It read in part: “Biodiversity, forests, grasslands and the massive deltaic region that this river nurtures would be devastated. … It appears to be a programme that presents, rather simplistically, that the river can be saved by planting trees on banks of her streams, rivulets, tributaries and the floodplains … a method that promotes a monoculturist paradigm of landscape restoration which people of India have rejected long ago.” The Isha Foundation dismissed the letter as an attempt “to gain publicity.”

Similarly, in September Ireland committed to planting 440 million trees as part of its Climate Action Plan. Many of them will be commercially valuable Sitka spruce from North America’s Pacific Northwest. When they’re harvested, sequestered carbon will spew back into the atmosphere. Meanwhile, these aliens will be drying up wetlands, increasing global warming by absorbing and retaining solar heat, and, as the Irish Wildlife Trust warns, speeding extirpation of fish and wildlife (ongoing because of previous alien-tree plantings).

The notion that tree planting is an elixir for what ails the earth is as popular with polluters as it is with nations, a fact that spawned the “carbon offset industry.” Polluters hire third parties—often unseen, uninterviewed, and in other countries—to plant any kind of trees, anywhere. For instance, in November, EasyJet announced that it will spend $33 million for tree planting and other carbon-reduction schemes, supposedly rendering itself the first airline to offset all its CO2 pollution. In February Delta Air Lines pledged to zero out its carbon emissions by spending $1 billion over the next decade. While it was vague on how this will be accomplished, tree planting is reportedly part of the strategy.

Carbon offsetting has been likened to “indulgences,” the forgiveness notes hawked by the pre-Reformation Catholic Church—go and sin no more unless, of course, you pay us off again for future sins. Also, hired tree planters frequently charge for trees that would be planted anyway or pocket the money and plant nothing.

According to Kevin Anderson, professor of energy and climate change at the U.K.’s University of Manchester, the entire carbon offset industry is a “scam.” In 2019, after two decades of carbon offsetting, CO2 levels peaked at the highest levels in recorded history.

Carbon offsetting might work if polluters paid parties to protect existing forests and maybe also restore wetlands and grasslands by cutting planted and invading trees. On 400,000 acres in Montana, the American Prairie Reserve recovers native prairie by razing alien Russian olive and Chinese locust trees and reseeding bare, abandoned cropland with a native prairie mix.

The same restoration is done by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service at national wildlife refuges such as Bowdoin and Medicine Lake, both in Montana. “I have old photos showing settlers out on the prairie, and there’s not a single tree in the background,” says Neil Shook, who manages these two refuges. “Now the same places are littered with trees. By cutting trees we’re seeing increases in prairie vegetation and grassland songbirds. But people are still planting Russian olives. Right outside our boundaries you can see what will happen if we don’t cut. That private land is just full of trees.”

Thanks to aggressive tree removal by the USFWS at Union Slough National Wildlife Refuge in Iowa, prairie-dependent plants, birds, and mammals are surging back. For years, tree lovers have railed at Union Slough managers, accusing them of such malfeasance as “arboricide.” But as the refuge presses on the noise fades.

Reform seems to take two steps back and three forward. “We’re pushing hard for San Francisco to plant native trees that will bring wildlife into the city and link it with our parks,” remarks Jacob Sigg of the California Native Plant Society. “But the old-boy network plants non-natives and is deaf to our arguments. Planting any trees anywhere sends chills down my spine. I do see progress, but then I hear some prominent person talking about planting a ‘trillion trees.’ ”

Sigg brightened when I asked about Angel Island. It had been blighted by eucalyptus desolation when I’d seen it. Now, he reported, virtually all the eucs have been cut and chipped, and native grasslands and scrub oaks have recovered. The California Department of Parks and Recreation had not been deaf to the society’s arguments. In the face of savage bullying from groups like POET (Preserve Our Eucalyptus Trees), it stood tall.

I think the great landscape photographer Ansel Adams put it best when he helped run tree-planting Boy Scouts off the prairie in what’s now the Golden Gate National Recreation Area: “I cannot think of a more tasteless undertaking than to plant trees in a naturally treeless area, and to impose an interpretation of natural beauty on a great landscape that is charged with beauty and wonder, and the excellence of eternity.” Treeless landscapes are not only natural, in many cases—they’re better for the Earth, too.

#science #nature #biodiversity #conservation #climate change #environment #trees #invasive species #invasive plants #habitat restoration #carbon offsets #monoculture #forests #botany #plants #planting #reforestation #grassland #prairie

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kpopchangedme · 5 years

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Things I Wish I Knew | Tip II: Grease Is The Word

Girl talk and sex tips mini-series for the modern ladies, ft. unfortunate Mark Tuan & Park Jinyoung

|| Mini-Masterlist ||

Protagonists: Mark & You (Boyfriend!AU) - Girlfriends & Jinyoung

Word Count: 1,4k

Genre: NSFW - Sex Tips - *Explicit* - Humour - Drabble

Lys’ note: Here we goooOO! (sorry it took me forever!)

“Vagina.” Lulu repeats, cocking her head to stare at your very very red boyfriend, she’s been at that for two whole minutes. “Are you uncomfortable, Tuan?” She giggles and you intervene, feeling sorry.

“Stop teasing him…” But you laugh despite yourself and Mark shoots you an insulted look.

“I’m fine!” You bite your lips to keep your cool at his whiny reply. “It’s the best evening of my entire life, y/n! Vagigna…” Everybody guffaws at his poor attempt to sound unphased by the simple word. You know he’d leave if the girls made him feel too awkward, but you can’t help wanting to protect him. It’s like, ever since you decided to rant about Sex Ed, the two men suddenly became the target of your lil’ women stunt.

“VA. GI. NA.” Lulu repeats for the umpteenth time, causing him to groan. “There’s a feminist shop near my place that sells that word on a tee.”

“Why would you want to wear that?” Maria asks innocently.

“To see people’s face change when they read the word, ‘cause it’s powerful. Tuan can’t even properly say it.” She shrugs ignoring his outcry and you nod, agreeing despite your best intentions. “Right, Park?”

“Vagina.” Jinyoung says, the word half-drowned by his glass of wine. He tries to play it off as if he’s cool but the colour of his ears is betraying. “Vulva. I’ll have to say these words in front of my students all week anyway. This is good training.”

“I wish I was14 again… Then Mr. Park would say dirty things to me all day.” Isha teases and Jinyoung chokes, coughing like crazy. “Lucky students.”

“Vagina, vulva, penis, uterus... Worst dirty talk ever.” You groan and everybody looks at you curiously. “Nothing turns me off more than these words, to be honest.”

“Nothing?” Mark laughs, hitting you with his elbow just so you know he can already think of a few.

Isha raises a hand to require silence. “I once send naughty texts back and forth with a guy who would always answer too directly. I couldn’t agree more, y/n. Nothing dries me off more than reading things like ‘I’ll put my penis inside your vagina’.”

“Jesus, where do you find the guys you date?!” Jinyoung’s question almost gets buried by the sounds of the girls disgusted boos.

“Tinder,” she shrugs. “It’s not like I ask for sexy nonrhythmic poesy or anything. Just tell me how you want me… How bad...” She says all that while holding his gaze and Maria turns to you to roll her eyes as if to say ‘get a room’.

“Nothing ever turns me on.” Lulu’s words divert the attention from Isha and Jinyoung’s persisting flirting game.

“You mean when sexting?” You ask curious, “Some guys are-”

“Y/n calls me the pussy whispe-” Mark grunts when your elbow hits his side.

“He’s amazing at sexting.” You agree and he glares at you, wondering why you hit him if you didn’t mind sharing that in the first place.

“No, I mean... Nothing,” Lulu breathes out, almost inaudible.

“… Ever turns you on?” Isha frowns and you lean in, attentive. Lulu shares a lot with the girls, and she has a very active sex life. That’s a first.

“Well, you know me, everything turns me on! Just not down there...” She shrugs as if it’s no big deal and sips her wine. She has never brought this issue up though, so you know it is a big deal.

“What-” Isha starts but Lulu cuts her off to clarify.

“I’m the Sahara, arid as fuck!” Everyone falls silent so she giggles to ease the new awkwardness. “That’s what I wish someone would’ve told me… Sometimes the body doesn’t quite follow the mind.”

“So you…”

“It was fine when I was younger, it’s just these last two years. I don’t know, it… Changed.”

“But what if a guy isn’t an ass and really into preliminaries, woul–” Your boyfriend starts, skeptical since it’s never been a problem for you.

“Tuan, I assure you,” Lulu cuts him off, “Michael B. Jordan could eat me for over an hour and I’d still be as dry as a bone.”

“I wish she’d stop always saying my name like that.” Mark whispers in your ear but you ignore him, too worried about your friend to deal with his feelings right now.

“Am I the only one?” Lulu asks in disbelief, finding salvation in her glass of wine. “Guess my vagina is weird after all.”

“For me… Um…” Isha clears her throat, supportive. “It varies depending on hormones and stuff. It’s pretty regular, but it sure is a rollercoaster.”

“Me too.” You nod, biting your lips, serious and not minding oversharing if it makes Lulu more comfortable. “I’m not on the pill and I can basically follow my cycle based on lubrification and lust.” Mark’s thigh tenses against yours and you wonder if he’d rather be elsewhere, neither him nor Jinyoung seem about to leave though. You’re sure they’re learning plenty, unveiling mysteries they didn’t even realise existed. You bet they secretly love the conversation.

“You’re not alone, Lu…My doctor said dryness is quite common.” Maria’s voice is so low you think you misheard. “When I was younger, it was… like you.” She wouldn’t usually share stuff like that, even when you’re only between girls, so this is a surprise. “Now it’s fine though, normal I guess. If I want to, if I’m into it… then…” She suddenly giggles, startling everyone including herself. “Then I guess that my body agrees with my brain!”

“But… Isn’t it painful?” Jinyoung’ brows are furrowed, and everyone turns in awe at his question. “It’s not like you can force intercourse, if the woman isn’t comfortable then the friction and-”

“Lube saves life, Mr. Park.” Lulu interrupts with an arrogant smirk, more like herself after her initial confession. “How do you think grandmas and sex workers bone?” Jinyoung mouth falls open. Mark turns in horror, silently pleading for you to stop her, but you’re too busy laughing with the rest of the girls. “I swear I use more lubricant than porn stars, I wish my insurance covered it!”

“Oh…” Jinyoung falters, probably feeling stupid, but it’s not like he would’ve discovered that on his own.

“The guys I’m with sometime feel burdened.”

“I can imagine,” Mark says, it’s not like he’s a fan of your friend’ sometimes rough personality. “Some might find it hard to deal with your overwhelming sweetness and consideration.”

“Fragile masculinity.,” Lulu snicker, “clearly you relate, Tuan.”

“Then it something men and women equally should learn about.” Jinyoung jumps in to defuse the situation before you can. “I mean, it does concern both partners.”

“Right!” Maria nods pensively, “I was so ashamed of that when I was younger. It kept me from being comfortable with my first boyfriend.”

“It’s my thing I wish I knew,” Lulu smiles. “Being aroused doesn’t always equate being wet as fuck. I used to take that for granted. Maybe you should take notes for your class, Jinyoung.”

“Imagine the calls I’d get from parents if I brought up ‘being wet as fuck’ to their schoolgirls,” he laughs at the idea as Lulu begins to initiate a toast.

“You could start by calling it; vaginal lubrication.” Isha shakes her head, padding Jinyoung’s shoulder kindly. “Do it for the greater good, Mr. Park.”

“To the greater good!” Lulu yells in the living room and everyone clinks their glasses together, glad it’s out in the open now. Even Mark. “Cheers!”

“And to LUBE!” Isha screams before the second toast and hilarity ensues.

Still laughing, your boyfriend whispers in your ear; “I wonder what the neighbours think we are doing...” You shiver, pressing against his warmth as the conversation resumes around you. After a moment, Mark leaves to open a new bottle of wine in the kitchen, when he gets back, he surprises everyone. “You know, I’m a man, but it’s not like Sex Ed covered every single one my needs either!”

“Oooh,” Lulu wiggles excitedly at the claim, eyeing you. “Please overshare, Tuan. What do you wish you knew about sex?”

Mark must be getting tipsy if he’s about to open up in front of your whole girl squad. That’s giving them ammunition for later. Probably ignoring this, he takes a deep breath, getting ready to share his own embarrassing stories…

|| Mini-Masterlist ||

#TheKpopNetwork #Park Jinyoung #GOT7 #Mark Tuan #GOT7 Scenarios #Imagines #Things I Wish I Knew #Sex Talk #is back #lol

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