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kal-djarin · 3 years

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Memories From the Past

Fandom: Star Wars

Date Posted: February 8th, 2021

Pairing: Reader x Obi-Wan Kenobi

Warnings: angst, fluff, suggestive themes but no actual smut, fighting?

Request: n/a

A/N: Okay I’m actually kinda proud of this one. I really love the dynamic of Obitine so I tried to translate that into fic without stealing the entire plot, but it steal is very obviously similar. I really hope the flash back scenes and change in pov. make sense, I had some issues trying to figure out what tense I should use for them, but hopefully it’s not confusing. IM SORRY THE ENDING IS RUSHED!!! As always please let me know what you think!!

Word Count: 4.5k

The news of Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi’s return to Sundari caused an array of emotions throughout the Palace. The Royal Guards were more watchful than usual, still not truly able to release the years of grudges held against the Jedi Order and Satine, was glad to be reunited with her old friend, despite the impromptu meeting being over possible changes in where the planet stood in the Clone Wars; a figure dressed in Mandalorian armour attacking a Republic cruiser would bring anyone to question the supposed position of neutrality Mandalore held.

You, on the other hand, were instantly filled with dread. Years have passed from the last time you have laid eyes on Obi-Wan and still the mere mention of him causes hundreds of memories to resurface.

When Satine became Duchess of Mandalore, many people were happy, but there were still insurgents that would not accept her pacifist leadership. They would send bounty hunters to try to eliminate her and the power she held. These constant threats against her life compelled Obi-Wan and his Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn to remove her and you, her most trusted advisor, from Mandalore and live on the run for nearly a year.

You lived one day at a time, trying to focus on surviving the present and live to see what uncertainties the future held. Most people would think that living in such dubious conditions would be terrifying, but it was one of the best years of your life.

Right when you met Obi-Wan, you were instantly turned off by him, despite his handsome looks. His diplomatic kindness and reverence felt impersonal and fake instead of charming and he was far too arrogant for your liking. Qui-Gon, on the other hand, was someone you befriended very quickly. His empathetic and wise nature instantly connected the two of you and he became almost like a father-figure. He was constantly giving you advice and was the only reason you tolerated Obi-Wan in the beginning.

Obi-Wan instantly felt this disfavor towards him, bringing out his sarcasm and frequent jabs, making him even more unbearable. The two of you spent weeks either trying to see who could irritate the other more or just completely ignoring each other, to both Qui Gon and Satine’s dismay. Qui-Gon always tried convincing you that you and Obi-Wan would make a great pair if the two of you would just stop being so stubborn, but his advice fell onto deaf ears.

Your hostility towards each other did die however, when you were being chased by venom-mites on a cliff on Draboon. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan fought them off as you and Satine escaped to the ship. Satine ran onto the boarding ramp and just as you were about to join her, you tripped over a divot in the ground, the momentum of it almost completely hurtling you off the side of the cliff, had you not grabbed a hold of the ledge.

All you can remember was the absolute terror that coursed through your veins and Satine’s horrified scream. Your body was hung over what seemed to be a bottomless pit and the only thing anchoring it were your hands; hands that were rather weak from a life devoid of physical exertion and that were slipping as each second passed.

You struggled, trying to find a way to climb up to solid land, but soon realized all the effort was fruitless. Obi-Wan, startled by Satine’s cries for help, turned around and saw your rather unfortunate situation. His eyes widened and he quickly turned from his Master and ran towards where you hung. When he was close enough, he slid to his knees and stretched his arm out to you.

“(Y/N), Take my hand!”

You wanted to, you really did, but the fear of falling to transfer your grip from the ground to his hand was too debilitating.

“Obi-Wan, I can’t, I’ll fall!” You managed to choke out

“You have to trust me!” His voice was loud, but still held its usual steadiness. His eyes however gave away his true emotions. They were frantically searching your own trying to convince you to lay your life in his hands. You could practically feel his terror radiating off of him.

Realizing you were out of options, you slowly released your grip and reached out to grasp his outstretched hand. Your fingers barely grazed his own and you knew it was too late. Gravity met you full force, and you felt yourself scream as your body began to plummet.

Then, all of a sudden, a warm cradling feeling caught you, interrupting your imminent death. You felt yourself rise over the cliff and saw Obi-Wan’s concentrated face and twitching hand. When you were about a foot above the ground, you dropped into Obi-Wan’s arms, and let out a sob of relief. Your body was racked with tears, still trying to process what just happened, and Obi-Wan just held you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, seeking comfort for your near death, and leaned against Obi-Wan’s own shaking body.

That day was the start of a new relationship for the two of you. You began to confide in each other more and felt the trust between the two of you grow as time passed. Obi-Wan dropped his guard of fake diplomacy and began to act more like himself. Of course, he still had his sarcastic humor, but it was more endearing now and his kindness felt genuine.

Soon, your relationship became more than just finding comfort in each other. When one of you couldn’t sleep, you and Obi-Wan would just sit together and talk until you became tired or if it was time to get up. Being around him was effortless and there was an understanding the two of you had that was rare to find. Of course, there was still tension between the two of you but it was different, less hostile.

If your relationship with him had ended there, innocent and full of what-ifs, you would have been just as excited as Satine was to see him. You wouldn’t currently be standing in the throne room, shaking with anxiety, waiting for him to step through the doors.

Just as you begin to contemplate completely ditching Obi-Wan’s arrival, the doors are opened and you hear the Prime Minister talking to him.

You look down and try to not draw attention to yourself, which is impossible considering Satine insisted you walk in beside her. Satine knew you and Obi-Wan were close, but you never told just how far your relationship with him went, so she didn’t see anything with the reunion. She sits down at the throne and you stand next to her. They greet each other briefly and the sound of Obi-Wan being so close to you again gives you the courage to finally meet his gaze.

He looks absolutely radiant, somehow looking more attractive than you remembered. His hair is a bit longer and a perfectly trimmed bear adorns his handsome face. You can’t help but stare, trying to take in the view you have been deprived of for almost 15 years.

“After all these years, you're even more beautiful than ever,” He says towards Satine, but still keeps his eyes locked on you.

You break the intense eye contact and try to not let his smooth words affect you. He doesn’t falter at your discreet rejection and continues the diplomatic conversation between him and Satine. She invites him on a walk through the city, and to your dismay, she gestures for you to join them. You walk just behind Satine, allowing the two of them to lead the way. Air speeders whistle by around you and people walk around the city, going about their day, unbothered by the Duchess and Jedi moving around them. You hear Satine talk about the current predicament Mandalore has found itself in with the Death Watch and you know you should be paying attention and adding into the conversation for sake of not seeming rude, but can’t help but carefully watch Obi-Wan’s side profile as he walks.

It’s perfect just like the rest of him and triggers yet another memory in your mind: you and his first kiss. It was a couple months after the incident on Draboon, and the four of you were forced to spend the night in a cave because of a rather wild storm. You sat on the cold floor near the fire Qui-Gon made, unable to rest, just watching the rain hit the mouth of the cave for hours. Unlike you, Satine used her time wisely, quickly finding much needed sleep. Qui-Gon had been meditating earlier, but now seemed to be resting as well, facing the inside of the cave. Obi-Wan sat cross-legged, reading a book about, if you remembered from his earlier explanation correctly, the method of Jar’Kai, farthest from the fire.

It wasn’t long before he noticed your restless form and decided to sit down next to you, close enough for your shoulders to touch.

“What’s up with you?” He asked, nudging your shoulder with his own.

Usually this kind of touch wouldn’t have caused you any issues, but more recently, you began to take note of every physical contact the two of you made. Obi-Wan was rather reserved, so knowing he so frequently chose to make contact with you gave you conflicting feelings. You turned and looked at him and suddenly felt rather sad.

“Don’t you wish we could be more carefree, like other people our age?”

He looked taken aback from your sudden question, but soon began to contemplate, fingers coming up to gently grasp his chin. After a moment, he looked back at you and shook his head.

“I never truly have thought about it. Why?” He questions further.

You knew why. No matter how hard you tried to deny it, Obi-Wan has found a special place in your heart. Months of confiding and building trust with one another let you get to know his true personality, making it impossible not to feel so much for him. But, although you were just teenagers, the both of you had responsibilities and expectations of you. He was a Jedi and you had to stay focused on helping Satine rebuild Mandalore after the raging civil war.

So instead of answering his question, you decided to satiate the need to feel reckless by standing up and walking out into the rain. The feel of the cold drops on your skin should have annoyed you, but instead it made you feel alive; it helped numb the feelings you so badly wish you didn’t have.

“What are you doing!” Obi-Wan yelled, looking alarmed at your sudden uncharacteristic decision.

“I’m living!!” You replied, soaking in the feeling of the rain and quickly running back and grabbing his hands with your dripping ones.

“Come on, Obi Wan, join me” You urged. His eyes are wide in shock but, nonetheless, takes off his outer robes and walks out into the rain.

His trust to join you with no question made you feel even more giddy and you dragged him into the middle of the valley that the cave sat in. You grabbed his hands and began to dance, if you could even call it that. Obi-Wan, as comfortable as he was with you, immediately stiffened up, since he was never truly taught how to dance. This setback, however, caused little pause in your actions and you just spun with him around in a circle.

The drumming of the rain did little to drown out your laugh whenever Obi-Wan would stumble, to his dismay, but he too began to chuckle at the unskilled dancing going on. You gazed up at him and just from the look on his face you knew your feelings for him were going nowhere. His hair laid flat on his head, soaked, and his face was covered in water and he looked breathtaking. He made you feel safe and trusted and maybe that was the reason you decided to risk it all.

You grabbed his face between your hands and pressed your lips to his. It was short-lived, with him quickly pulling away with his eyebrows furrowed and lips parted.

You instantly were filled with regret, embarrassed from the rejection, and went to run back into the cave to hide from your mistake. You felt selfish, trying to act on feelings that completely disrespected everything Obi-Wan lived for. Right when you pulled away from his arms, Obi-Wan quickly grabbed your wrist and pulled you back in.

His hands went up to cradle your face and he kissed you. It was overwhelming how much emotion he was channeling through it. The kiss was needy and hard but his hands were gentle, one of them coming up to tangle itself in your soaked hair. You could tell he was inexperienced, his form being a tad messy, but the passion put into it made up for any mistakes.

You feel a hand rest on your shoulder and are instantly pulled out of the memory. You see Satine looking at you, worry written all over her face.

“(Y/N), are you alright?” She asks, her eyes searching your face.

You go to answer her and shut down any of her worries about you, but catch a glimpse of Obi-Wan and lose the words. His face looks almost distraught and you know he must have seen what you were thinking of. You force yourself to look away from him and respond to Satine.

“Yes, sorry I must have zoned out.” You apologize, hoping she buys your white lie. “As a matter of fact is it alright if I return to the Palace, I think I need a little rest”

She still looks worried, but quickly approves of your request and turns back to walk with Obi-Wan, who still seems bothered by your memory, but remains cordial and attentive.

You turn and go back to the Palace, a single guard flanking your side. When you return, you do exactly what you told Satine, you lie on your bed and rest, or at least try to.

***

When Obi-Wan sensed the memory you were thinking of, he was no longer able to focus on the important matter at hand. Even after the bombing on Mandalore after you left and him nearly being crushed to death on Concordia, he found himself thinking about it. He remembers that day so clearly; the first time he truly gave into his temptations.

He had worked so hard to stay in the Jedi Order- nobody wanted him as a Padawan. He was always not enough and it was only by fate that Qui-Gon decided to take him under his wing. He knew better than anyone that the title of Jedi was invaluable and there you were making him question everything he ever knew. He knew Jedi weren’t supposed to form attachments or express their emotions, so why did he keep indulging himself with your presence.

The moment you kissed him, Obi-Wan’s instinct was to run. He was powerless against the attachment he had to you, so he knew the best way to stop it was to completely remove himself from the situation. He had every intention of doing so when he pulled away the first time, but then his other instincts kicked in. He felt the feel of your hands on his face, the closeness of your body, and realized there was no way he could let this go, at least not now.

Days after the kiss, Obi-Wan was filled with disgust at himself. He hated that he let himself indulge. He hated how he completely disregarded everything he was ever taught. He hated the fact that he loved every second of it, and what he hated most of all is that he began to wonder how it would feel to kiss your neck, skin, and other very un Jedi-like places.

Because of this, the months of progress the two of you made in your relationship were completely erased. He knew it was unfair to you, but he had to uphold the morals of a Jedi, and being around you made that goal impossible. He reverted back to the arrogant and guarded Padawan and pushed you away every time you tried to fix things.

But his efforts were fruitless. You knew Obi-Wan and were not able to let go of his sudden change in personality.

His Master also noticed the sudden change in relationship and decided to take matters in his own hands. He decided to send the two of you off on a mission to retrieve some sort of plant and herb. The two of you walked through the woods, The entire trip, Obi-Wan ignored every attempt of yours to engage in conversation and didn’t even truly acknowledge your presence. You finally decided to confront him, to his dismay.

“Was it truly that horrifying to kiss me, Obi-Wan”

“What?” He said, trying to keep the act up.

“Was it so bad to the point of ignoring me,” You pushed, getting angrier by the minute.

“I hardly see how that is relevant to the current task at han-” He began to deflect but was cut off by you grabbing his shoulder and whipping him around. Angry tears began to form in your eyes and at the site, Obi-Wan felt his facade crack.

“You don’t get to decide to drop me when things get hard, Obi-Wan” You spat, emphasizing your words by jabbing your finger on his chest.

Obi-Wan tried. He tried so hard to stay away from you. But the look of anger and heartbreak on your face made him, give into your spell, once again. He grabbed your hand and looked into your eyes.

He knew he was going to hate himself after, like last time, but the temporary pleasure it brought was impossible to resist, so he kissed you.

The kiss was hard and full of anger: anger at you, at himself, at the Jedi Order, and at the world for making you his weakness. You instantly reacted bringing your hand around to run through his short auburn hair and pulling your body as close as possible.

Obi-Wan deepened the kiss, letting his tongue explore the inners of your mouth, inciting a moan from your lips. Obi-Wan felt himself flush from the obscene sound and couldn’t help but feel bolder from the thought of bringing you pleasure. He started to kiss along your jawline and down your neck, his brain becoming muddled from the pleasure of it all.

You had begun to take off his robes and that was when he came to his senses. He knew he had to stop this, it was completely un Jedi-like and uncivilized, especially out in the open. His thoughts were immediately shut down however when you slid your hand down his chest. He decided to burn every single pleasure and feeling into memory and worry later. Your hand began to venture between his legs and that was the second time Obi-Wan gave into temptation.

You were all he could think about while fighting on Concordia, and he knew this was why Jedi don’t form attachments. Just the memory of your relationship caused his judgement to be clouded. He couldn’t imagine how he would have been if you were there during the fight with Death Watch: constantly worried, focused on an individual rather than the greater good.

He was relieved to get on to the Coronet and away from the memory of his failures as a Jedi, but that relief was short-lived when he saw you boarding the ship alongside Satine.

***

Satine, as strong-willed as ever, insisted on you going to Coruscant with her. She didn’t want you to be alone on Mandalore, vulnerable to the rapidly more aggressive Death Watch attacks. Once aboard the ship, you settle into your temporary room and head down to meet back up with the Duchess, who was currently discussing her position of neutrality with other senators down the hall.

As you walk towards the meeting, you run into a young, handsome man and Obi-Wan. You immediately freeze, not prepared for the sudden direct interaction and just stare at him. “O-Obi-Wan” You stutter out, not knowing how to fully go about this.

Obi-Wan looks equally as startled, but recovers quickly and introduces you to the younger man.

“(Y/N), this is Anakin Skywalker, my Padawan and Anakin this is Adviser (L/N).”

You tear your eyes away from Obi-Wan’s and quickly greet Anakin with a nod and small smile. Wordlessly, you walk through the door and head to Satine’s side, not before hearing the Padawan say, “On a first name basis, huh, Master?” and a small grunt following a hitting noise.

The meeting was full of high tensions, many, including Obi-Wan, disagreeing with Mandalore’s neutrality. It was always an issue when brought up, and even you saw the issues with it. The idea of staying neutral and not interfering in a war is noble but is much harder in execution and can cause more turmoil in the long run.

As soon as the meeting is dismissed, you file out of the room, trying to avoid any more confrontation. You head to the room where you are supposed to have dinner and find Satine waiting for you.

Obi-Wan enters the room, walking with other leaders. All you had to do was get to Coruscant. Once there you can get out of here and not have to think about Obi-Wan Kenobi ever again. You zone out for most of the meal, not noticing the nervous atmosphere starting to settle over everyone or the warning Obi-Wan gives about a situation going on below decks.

You are suddenly pulled out of your own head, when you hear him yell to the guards about securing the lifts. You see the blue light of Obi-Wan’s lightsaber and Satine quickly stands up from the table, bringing you with her.

A horrifying crunching sound is heard and the doors to the lift begins to wrench open, revealing a giant spider droid. It easily knocks down the guards and clambers onto the table, quickly approaching the group of senators. Obi-Wan goes into action and severs the spider droid's legs and lands a fatal lightsaber wound to its head.

The people around you breathe a sigh of relief but soon find out that it's far from over. Miniature spider droids begin to pop out of the body of the larger one and spread out to box the group of you in. Senators begin freaking out, but you and Satine know better. Years of dealing with the pushback of the people have forced you to learn how to defend yourself. Not to mention, the year spent with Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan required you to spend quite a bit of time learning to fight. You and Satine immediately pull out your deactivators and get to work killing the droids.

Obi-Wan joins the fight with his lightsaber and the two of you fall into the instinctual rhythm from all those years ago. Back to back, slowly turning, ensuring the other doesn’t get too overwhelmed by the enemy. As much as you hate being reminded of your once very close relationship, it's easier to connect to him through the ease of physical touch. You can predict his movements and fighting techniques, making it much easier to interact than dialogue. Once all, except one, of the droids are eliminated, Obi-Wan turns towards you and seems as if he has something to say but quickly stops himself and walks away to check on the others. The adrenaline coursing through your veins from the fight keeps you on edge however, even after you return to your seat.

It stays with you, even when Anakin returns to inform Obi-Wan that there is a seperatist among you. The surviving spider droid is walked around the table, a test to see who it won’t attack. When Obi-Wan reaches Tal Merrik, a sudden change in the droid's hostile behavior proves him to be a traitor.

You watch in horror as Tal grabs Satine and holds a blaster to her head. The adrenaline from the previous fight serves you well because, even before Obi-Wan has time to react to the sudden change in severity of the situation, a fallen guard’s blaster, set to stun, is in your hand and has already raised and fired at the Senator. He quickly falls, releasing Satine.

You release a shaky breath and everyone, including Obi-Wan, stares in shock at your quick save.

“T-thank you,” Satine says, obviously shaken from almost being held hostage.

You nod in acknowledgment and watch as Tal Merrik is put into custody.

For obvious reasons, all the senators decide to retire to their rooms for the rest of the night.

Exhausted emotionally and physically, you do the same and head to your room after making sure Satine arrived at hers safely. You are about to relax into your bed when you hear a knock at the door. You open it to find Obi-Wan standing there, looking rather uncomfortable. “What do you want, Obi-Wan,” you sigh, tired of hiding from your past.

“I thought that we could talk”

“You are the last person to want to talk about feelings, Obi” You say turning around and heading back into the room, silently allowing him access to your space.

He walks in and closes the door behind him and leans against the wall opposite of you.

“I thought it would be a benefit to the both of us if we just talk”

“What do you want me to say Obi-Wan?” You raise your voice, tired of his roundabout way of talking.

“Do you want me to say I’m in love with you? But you already knew that didn’t you, all those years ago, and you still left” you accuse spitefully, not believing that you could somehow still have feelings for such an emotionally constipated man.

His face contorts into one of regret and grief at the mention of his abandoning you, but you still don’t let up.

“I think it’s better if you just go, Obi Wan. It’s what you do best.” You spit out, turning around to face away from him.

You hear him push off the wall and begin to move, but instead of leaving like you told him to, he walks up to you. You sense his presence against your back and he is so close you can feel his breath gently hitting the back of your neck. He stands there and lightly touches your hand with his own, breathing you in, again resorting to physical touch when his words fail. You bask in the closeness of him, giving into the way you missed his touch.

After a few moments, you hear him sigh and pull away from you.

“Had you said the word, I would have left the Jedi Order”

With that confession, he slowly leaves and shuts the door, leaving you more confused and heartbroken than ever.

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reversemoon255 · 3 years

Photo

(This is the second of a three-part series chronicling the story, concepts, and original Pokémon that appeared in a Dungeons and Dragons campaign I worked on for several months. This entry will be more focused on a lot of my original designs and how their encounters would play out, rather than concrete story. Also, much of the art was done by @extyrannomon on Twitter, and I suggest you check them out.)

Dungeons ‘n’ Dragonites - Phase 2: Ultra City

The Queen Durant would prove to be a difficult foe, able to use all manner of elemental attacks to strike from a distance to compensate for her low speed. Furthermore, she would have full command of the Duranthill, using her followers to guard herself. As the battle rages, the team slowly begin to evolve, and their newfound strength and Types, along with the aid of the Princess, would have them see victory.

I was unsure as to the ultimate fate of the Queen. Either having it disappear into the tunnels alone, or be sucked into another Ultra Wormhole like the Poipole. And with the Queen vanquished, the Princess would choose to become partner to whoever she felt most worthy (a combination of good role playing and damage dealt).

I designed every Pokémon in this campaign under the pretense that it could actually exist. The Queen and Princess fall under the category of “Rare Variants.” There’s only one queen in a colony of thousands of ants, so it makes sense for it to be rarely seen. They’re still Bug/Steel, but special attackers, with the three spheres on each of their abdomens made to mimic the pattern of Tri-Attack, symbolizing their ability to use those Types.

As for the Starter evos, Flymph has evolved into Epipesis, gained the Electric-Type, and become a full Dragonfly. Calfyre into Steared, staying mono-Fire, but growing considerably (4 feet at the shoulder, the largest mid-stage Starter). Squisque into Knaval who’s now Rock, because he’s a rock lobster! And Utaw into Uteteo who may still be pure Fairy, but has gained some gold adornments.

=====

My working title for this campaign was “Ultra City.” Hinted at by the appearance of the Poipole early in the game, my intentions would come into full swing during this portion, with boss encounters against many of the known and some unknown Ultra Beasts. I had a few encounters planned, from a pickpocket Pheramosa that they’d fight in a mall store room full of mannequins, to a Blacephalon that had kidnapped several children, hypnotized them, and had them watching his performances, to a beach episode where there’s just a Buzzwole hanging out and not causing trouble.

Things would take a twist when a Guzzlord would take over the abandoned district, raining destruction down from its highest building. The crew would have to climb a multi-floor dungeon in order to battle it, many scared and aggravated Pokémon blocking their paths. After reaching the top however, after initiative had been rolled, a mysterious Pokémon would descend from the sky, felling Guzzlord in a single strike...

Majra, the Dragoon Pokémon (a slurred portmanteau of Magic and Dragon). A Dragon hunter with a unique ability, “Hunter of Evil,” that removes all its resistances but makes it immune to Dragon, Dark, and Ghost. This Pokémon came about as I was trying to create a dramatic encounter that would interrupt an expected one. As I was thumbing through DnD and fantasy ideas, the idea of a Dragoon who furiously hunts Dragon-Types came to mind. Ice/Fairy seemed the perfect combination, and the sentient suit of ice armor fell into place soon after. As Pokémon don’t typically hold weapons, I made him part scorpion, having him hold his tail as a workaround, and also informed how his extremities would look. The Haxorus skull buckler also helped drive the Dragon hunter aspect home.

Ultra Beasts were the second category of original Pokémon in my campaign, and encompass all purely original Pokémon (including the Starters). However, I didn’t want to just haphazardly make a ton (as commissions cost money), so I gave myself the condition that if I made an Ultra Beast it had to play with weaknesses and resistances in a way to trip up experienced players, hence Majra’s ability.

Majra would not attack our players in their first encounter, unless someone was using a Type he hunts. He would be a reoccurring boss character, helping or hindering the players depending on their enemies or allies.

The next unique encounter would have been a tutorial battle against another Rare Variant, a Shiinotic possessed Parasect. Every boss encounter is technically 4-on-1, so I wanted to give a Pokémon a reason to have multiple turns, and fused or symbiotic Pokémon felt like a naturally occurring way to have that happen. I created this Shiinotic as a way to teach the players how these Pokémon work.

As Shiinotic is a bio-luminescent mushroom, I wanted to have Parasect faded in color from its light. I also thought it’d be a nice touch to have Shiinotic’s spindly fingers act as puppet strings to move Parasect’s arms around. It would have been encountered after a swarm of scared Paras started flooding out of the sewers near everyone’s school.

Then would be Fortifiend, who would be encountered a few times as an easily circumventable castle wall in the middle of the street before Majra would eventually attack it, forcing our players to take a side in the battle (with Fortifiend possibly joining them if they help it). His ability would make all attacks not very effective while it had over 50% HP, and the opposite when under 50%. Despite the name, I pictured him being very nice, and giggle whenever he heard someone compliment his stone structure.

I imagined that the world he came from had naturally occurring stone structures similar to him, and his folded castle form was a sort of net to help him catch large prey; partly why he doesn’t attack the smaller people and Pokémon of the game’s dimension (he’s around 30ft tall). He could be encountered anywhere, so he wasn’t a full quest; just a fun “what the heck is this” moment to confuse players.

Also, while it wasn’t purposeful, Fortifiend and Majra both also matched the DnD aesthetic. That definitely helped them stand out as some of my favorites, and Fortifiend barely missed the final pass for the last round of commissions.

Then was the twin encounter of Feyerre, a Fire-Type igloo and snowmobile Pokémon, and Eyescse, an Ice-Type pyramid and four-wheeler Pokémon (probably the most Ultra Beast-esque concepts I came up with). They would be messing with the weather across the city, causing disturbances until the players eventually found one of them, in when the other would appear. Their ability would flip their weaknesses and resistances, and they would have an attack that could do the same to a target. And fun fact: there’s meaning to the color and number of their eyes! Feyerre’s are F.I.R.E (Fire=Red, Ice=L.Blue, Rock=Brown, Electric=Yellow), and Eyescse’s are I.C.E (Ice=L.Blue, Sea=D.Blue, Electric=Yellow).

But their defeat would incur the wrath of a mysterious Pokémon they had encountered a few times:

“As you turn around, you see a grey Charizard standing there. It stares at you for a moment, wide-eyed and unblinking. Then it begins to open its mouth, wide, wider, and wider still, stretching beyond what should be possible. Then a hand reaches out of it...

“Suddenly you’re falling. The lights and sounds of countless unknown worlds whir past you incomprehensibly as you plummet through time and space. You try to close your eyes to shut out the flurry of stimuli, but it’s impossible to drown out as your minds begin to feel the strain of the void. Then, after what feels like hours, time seems to stand still as the heavy rain of an unknown world hits your face. For a brief moment you are able to take in the desert that surrounds you before a flash of lightning illuminates the sky, revealing a titanic silhouette looming above you before you are once again thrown into darkness. And as you come to outside the warehouse (where you encountered Feyerre and Eyescse), in the distance, you hear what sounds like laughing.

“Fofofofofo...”

The final original encounter I had planned for Stage 2 was Meadew. It would have been wandering the city, spawning grasses and flowers wherever it went. However, while beautiful, the sudden growth would be causing havoc and destruction to all the buildings and vehicles it could root into.

Unlike the other Ultra Beasts, Meadew’s ability didn’t affect its weaknesses, but instead created Substitutes since I wanted a way for it to form its own adds (the concept behind its inception). However, it wasn’t without a Type gimmick; rather than an ability it has a signature status move called “Radiance” that raises its attack and special, as well as give it the Fire-Type, making it Grass/Water/Fire (the 3 Starter Types). It would invoke this after its adds were defeated, but could be talked down through diplomacy, unlike some of the other encounters.

=====

I’ve mentioned Rare Variants and Ultra Beasts, but there was a third Type of original Pokémon that could appear: Mutant Evolutions. Essentially, evolutions like Probopass or Leafeon where being in an energy charged area or coming into contact with a huge ore deposit (what I interpreted the Mossy and Icy Rocks as, since they became Leaf and Ice Stones in later Gens) could force an unusual evolution in a Pokémon already shown to be susceptible to unique evolutionary conditions. Due to a future encounter, I already knew there would be large Metal Coat and Ice Stone Ore deposits in the mountains to the north, so I wanted to do some test prototyping using each of those items, whether I used those evolutions or not.

Poliwhirl is already shown to be capable of multiple evolutions, all of which use items, so I thought having it come into contact with a massive amount of Ice Stone Ore (since it should be chemically similar to Water Stones) could force a Mutant Evolution. This is Policuti, from the Latin Cutis meaning skin, and Poli-Cutis would mean “multiple skins,” as it wears the shed skin of preevolution. And being freshly shed is why its skin lacks pigment. It’s just a cute little frog in a raincoat! Also, the swirl on its jaw is actually its tongue.

Since Magneton evolves into Magnezone through being electrically charged, I thought about how it might evolve if charged with Steel energy. I imagined it being magnetically attracted to the Metal Coat Ore, fiercely trying to pull itself away, being stretched and elongated in the process, resulting in the bullet train Pokémon Magneline. The Mutant Evolutions weren’t supposed to be anything important to the story or that they’d run into in the wild. They were more so surprises to excite the players who would be expecting something, well, expected. I had considered doing at least one for each player if they caught a compatible Pokémon, but as no teams were filled out, I was merely left with my prototypes. The only reason I had these two commissioned was because I was very happy with their designs.

=====

As we reach the end of Stage 2, the reoccurring group of rowdy Onix would return once more. Following them deep into their tunnels, our heroes would come across a massive chamber with a giant metal stalagmite and frozen stalactite in the center of it. The Onix would then appear, twisting around them, forcing their evolutions. One into Steelix, and the other into Glacix...

#Pokemon #dungeons and dungeons #DND #dnd homebrew #durant #shiinotic #parasect #poliwhirl #magneton #onix

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lov3nerdstuff · 3 years

Text

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.22}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 4.7k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

The two weeks that followed upon the dancing class were no different than Christmas time at Hogwarts always had been: it was snowy beyond reason, cold as hell, but the decorations that were put up actually brightened most people's mood and rendered everyone almost disgustingly cheerful. However, there were differences this year, and no matter how subtle they were, Robin still had no trouble pinpointing them with a striking accuracy.

One, both Cas and Jorien had chosen to stay at school over the holidays, mostly due to the fact that they were now in fourth year and thus officially allowed to attend the ball even without being someone's plus one. Besides that, they wanted to spend Robin's last ball at Hogwarts here with her, just once, all six of them together. Well, seven technically, but Robin still didn't know how she was supposed to get Snape into that equation.

Two, Robin spent significantly less time working for Sprout or Hagrid than she had during the last years (she did already work with them in the plenty during the school weeks at this point after all), and instead spent significantly more time with Snape, playing wizard's chess or reading during the days when the work was done, and drinking mulled wine, firewhisky or plain old coffee in his rooms at night.

And three, the two previous changes in addition to the revelations that had come up during lunch after the dancing class now made it near impossible for Robin to get the girls' words out of her head. Did Snape really look at her all that differently than at other people? Well, he certainly did, but that after all might merely be due to the fact that she was his best friend, just like he was hers. It didn't mean anything that his eyes followed her through the halls during meals, or that she slinked through the corridors on her way from his room to her own in an increasing frequency and like a bloody first year trying not to get caught after curfew. It didn't mean anything that he would sometimes just observe her with an expression that made her skin tingle while she rambled on about whatever had caught her attention now, and it most definitely didn't mean anything that he had gifted her that Japanese dictionary she had been trying to get her hands on for over a year now for Christmas. Without losing a word about it, of course, and in complete denial that it had anything to do with the holidays.

Put shortly, Robin couldn't help keeping her eyes open now that Jorien had so bluntly prompted her to. And every little thing she discovered made her want to sink back into deep denial indeed, and build a twenty feet brick wall around herself. Sometimes being the god of a universe of illusion is easier than being a peasant in the hell that is reality.

Honestly, she had never before actually considered that she might be scared to see the reality she found herself in, and found in herself. That she was scared to death not only of his true feelings, of being rejected, but also very much of her own emotions. It had been quite blissful to live in the easy fixed knowledge that she loved him, without actually paying attention to the reality of her feelings. And in reality, she felt something so intense and overwhelming that it terrified her to pieces. If only things were as easy as saying she loved him… Because if she was keeping her eyes open now, not only to her surroundings but also to herself, it was so much more than that. He was her best friend after all, her family and home, and after seven bloody years, there was no denying that he had also become a part of herself. Sure, she would be able to live without him, but what really mattered was that she would move heaven and hell to ensure she would never have to. Bloody hell, what a mess that would become once she left school in no more than half a year… And then, she could only hope that he would want to keep her in his life as well.

"Earth to Robin!" Jorien waved her hand in front of Robin's face, which was the first thing Robin noticed when she snapped out of her thoughts. "If you keep daydreaming like that, we'll be late to the ball!"

"We still have three hours until it's time to head up there." Robin huffed while rolling her eyes, but still shut the book in her lap she'd been failing to read for the last thirty minutes anyway. "I don't plan on sitting around in my dress until then."

"Are you sure that you want to wear the same one as last year?" Cas inquired in what sounded close to a whine. "I still stand by my offer to lend you one of mine!"

"Pff, yeah, Robin in a peach coloured glittery dress…" Jorien snorted, shaking her head at her friend. "You might be close to the same height, but your style is entirely different."

"I know that!"

"Obviously you don't. And Robin has a completely different body shape than you do, in addition to that."

"Hey, it's not my fault that I have muscles in my body!" Cas huffed with a glare at her friend. "Making the Quidditch team and staying on the team requires at least some level of physical fitness."

"Hey, I do have muscles!" Robin protested immediately, but she couldn't say that she felt offended by the girl's words. It was no secret that Cas definitely was the athletic type, whereas Robin's virtues were of a more academic nature.

"Yes, that, and I was actually referring to the fact that you are quite a bit more gifted in the upper regions than Robin." Jorien added with a pointed look at Cas, who crossed her arms over her chest with a blush and a pout.

"Guys, it doesn't matter, alright? I'm actually very much looking forward to wearing the same dress as last year." Robin tried to mend the field with diplomacy and an easy shrug. "The only reason I'm wearing a dress in the first place is so that I fit in a bit better."

"With Snape or with the crowd?" Cas returned with a smirk, all embarrassment forgotten. "Because while the former is quite the success with your dress, it logically eradicates the possibility for the latter to be too."

"That sounded way too Simon of you." Jorien snorted, then dodged the pillow that came flying her way. "What! It's not my fault that you guys are adopting each other's speech patterns more and more."

"So what's the plan for tonight?" Robin barged in before Cas could come up with a reply to get their bickering going again. There had been enough of that at breakfast. "Simon obviously is Cas' date, Gideon asked Lisa and Micheal's still trying to find someone. What about you, Jorien? Any prospects?"

"I asked Melissa." She shrugged casually in return, then started picking at her nails. "She'd rather go with a boy than with me. Better a date than a friend-date, and all that… Perhaps I should set her up with Michael, if both are so desperate to find someone to bring along. Quite pathetic, if you ask me. I'd rather go alone than be someone's last resort."

"Going alone is perfectly fine, I haven't ever had a date to the ball either." Robin shrugged with an encouraging smile. "You can be my date, if it means anything to you."

"You've been someone's unofficial date for all the past years, from what I was told, and I'm not getting in between that!" Jorien held up her hands in defense, and Robin rolled her eyes. "Upsetting Professor Snape wasn't on my agenda for tonight."

"Anyway…" Cas said after a few seconds of weird silence. "My plans for tonight include lots of dancing, hopefully some spiked drinks and of course some casual snogging."

"Cas!" Robin tried to sound scolding, but her laugh betrayed her exasperated tone. "That's nowhere near appropriate behaviour for a school dance!"

"Hey, I'm no saint and I never said I was!" The girl laughed in return, and the mischief that settled on her face should've been more disconcerting to Robin than it actually was. "Who knows, perhaps we'll visit the fifth floor hallway if things go well enough."

The mention of that make-out spot alone made Robin pull a face in distaste, and she couldn't help frowning deeply at her friend. "I would like to think that Simon has a bit more class than that."

"What, and I don't?"

"You just suggested going there, without a concern in the world. So please excuse me if I question your standards."

"She's got a point." Jorien added with a snicker and a shrug, and Robin gave her a high five with a smirk. Two against one; nobody was going to the fifth floor tonight.

"Fine…" Cas groaned and crossed her arms again. "But wherever else should we go, huh? Being classy while being a student isn't all that easy if you're not entirely immune to every boy's charme like Jorien or best friends with a bloody professor like Robin! How am I supposed to have fun, can you tell me that?"

"I'm not giving you pointers on how to snog your boyfriend, Cas. Or worse." Robin replied calmly, for she couldn't decide between being flustered and laughing at the girl's exasperation. "If you guys want to sneak around, you better do it without my knowledge. You know I can't lie, and chances are high that I would have to if I knew what you're up to."

"The alcoves are said to be a pretty good spot for making out." Jorien shrugged, completely ignoring Robin's previous statement. Great… now Robin would have to actively not listen to both of them. "And there's always our room, if you wanna go all out. With some sixth year charms work, it shouldn't be too difficult to find some privacy in the dorms… And I'd planned to sleep over at Melissa's tonight anyway. To hear all about her conquests."

"I did not just hear that, nope, absolutely didn't." Robin sighed to herself under her breath and turned on her heels, deciding that it was due time to take a shower. She'd gotten through puberty without too many losses, if she'd even had one in the first place, but she would be damned if she got dragged into her friends' shenanigans now as a late payback for that. So she grabbed her things and fled the room, after triple checking that everything she needed was safely tucked under her arm. She would not be smelling like pineapple tonight.

… … …

Luckily, when she returned to her room an hour later, the conversation had moved on and the girls were now discussing Cas' options for the dress she was to wear tonight. That was a topic Robin could very well live with, could very well ignore, and so she went back to reading like she'd originally tried to do before her thoughts had strayed. With a content sigh, she stretched out on the bed and focused on the article in front of her, until a light tap on her shoulder drew her eyes up and away from the page.

"It's just ten minutes until we're leaving, so you might want to get ready now at least." Jorien said to her with an amused smile, which only broadened when Robin's jaw dropped.

"But I literally just started reading! It can't be that late!"

"Yeah, well, that was two hours ago." The girl chuckled, then turned around to Cas for her to close the zipper of her dress. Both of them were already done with their preparations, in full makeup and beautiful hairdos, just a smile away from ready to go… and Robin was still in her pajamas.

With a groan under her breath, she flipped the book shut before tossing it onto her nightstand, then she scrambled to her feet to dig out her dress from the trunk at the end of her bed. Ten minutes; ridiculous, impossible… Well, not if she screwed decency for now. Without wasting any of the precious time on contemplation, she just went with it and shed her Queen shirt first, then her flannels without a second thought. Should they see her in her knickers, who cared at this point. They'd known each other for years now. Still, what she hadn't considered was the very reason why both girls gasped now and stared at her even as she stepped into the heavy black fabric of her dress and pulled it up her body with one swift move.

Robin sighed under her breath; she could very well imagine why the girls looked at her like that. It was one of the reasons why she never changed in front of anyone, and even less let them see her in any state of undress. "It's just a scar, guys. No need to be weird about it." She stated before either of them could say anything that would make the situation even more uncomfortable. "I told you that I was stabbed last summer, it's no big deal. Not a pretty sight, I know, but it is what it is."

"Didn't that hurt?!" Cas was the first to blurt out her thoughts. "I know that you told us about it happening, but… somehow I never really thought about the implications of that."

Robin snorted at the question, while she moved her hair out of the way to let Jorien close the many tiny buttons of her dress now. "Obviously it hurt. I almost died from blood loss, that's not going to happen from just a scratch. But it healed well for what it is. The scar really is a small price for my life."

"It's so weird to think that you've gone through something like that! I mean… you're just Robin, a bookworm too smart for her own good. To think that all those adventures you told us about actually happened is like imagining Professor Sprout in a wrestling tournament." Cas gestured wildly as she spoke, and Jorien just snorted at her friend's dramatics.

Robin shrugged all of it off with a smile that was as apologetic as it was evasive, then straightened her dress and put on the one pair of more or less dressy shoes she owned; they'd be covered by the dress for the most part anyway. Then she twisted her hair up with her wand like she usually did, and that was about it. Makeup still wasn't getting anywhere near her face, or any other body part for that matter.

"Wow… You look amazing! Powerful and dark and… pretty damn hot." Jorien commented when she got a glimpse at the front of the dress as well. "Like you're the essence of night itself."

"Right! That's exactly what I said last year!" Cas grinned and nodded in agreement, while Robin simply tried not to blush. Compliments about her wit and brains were fine… compliments about her looks however were just unusual and therefore weirdly uncomfortable.

"Thanks guys, but I'm really just trying to fit in." She shrugged, and both girls frowned at her in an instant.

"Fitting in is actually the last thing this dress does for you, I think." Jorien smirked as she slung her small bag around her shoulders, seconds before all three girls made for the door. It was time they got going, after all, and thus they mostly hurried through the common room and out into the hallways. "If anything, you'll draw attention. Make an impression on some people. Seize a few hearts, and steal a soul."

Robin just snorted while rolling her eyes at the comment, but Cas caught straight on to it.

"YES! Absolutely! Robin, you've got to take advantage of those killer looks… Try to seduce the subject of your affections!" Cas beamed, in a way that spoke volumes of her excitement about meddling in foreign affairs. "Use your womanly charm and go for it! Make him fall for you!"

"I love you, Cas, but do shut up."

"She's right though!" Jorien obviously had to side with her friend, and Robin groaned under her breath upon having both girls plotting against her now. "If he doesn't find you delectable now, he's truly as undeserving of you as every other male in this castle."

"And who would you be talking about?" Snape's deep voice made all three girls jump all of a sudden, and they each spun around to stare at the dark figure in the middle of the hallway behind them. They hadn't even made it out of the dungeons yet; they should've known better than to talk this loudly.

"Professor!" Cas shrieked, eyes wide and cheeks flushed as if she'd been caught doing something terribly wrong. Robin sighed under her breath and resisted the temptation to roll her eyes; so much for getting the two sides in her life a little closer together tonight.

"Nobody!" Jorien was quick to reply, and even quicker to regain control of the situation. "We were just on our way to the ball, actually."

"Obviously." Snape and Robin replied at once, and Cas snorted in return. Oh, this was going great alright… more fuel to their flames.

"Yes, it is fairly obvious, isn't it? So we should return to doing just that, or we'll be late." Jorien flashed a quick smile, then turned on her heels and grabbed Cas by the arm to drag her along while looking back over her shoulder at Robin. "You go ahead, and we'll find the guys and meet you in the hall later, yes?" With that, the two girls disappeared down the hallway and around the next corner mere seconds later, leaving Robin frozen to her spot with a frown on her face.

"Is it me or are they being even weirder than usual?" Came Snape's dry remark from just behind her then, and Robin's eyes flew to meet his while an involuntary smile pulled at her lips.

"Oh, they're absolutely bonkers. Delusional, really, if they seriously believe that I am looking delectable to anyone tonight." She chuckled, in the honest hope that he hadn't heard more of the girls' pep talk than that. But then again, he knew how to take their ridiculous ideas and teenage delusions by now, so it really didn't matter all that much. "It would take a blind man to find that mess on my head attractive."

"If you say so." He quirked an eyebrow at her in amusement, then offered her his arm instead of the usual subtle hand on the small of her back. "Let's make an effort to make it to the ball before we miss the headmaster's great speech, shall we?"

Robin's smile brightened before she could help it, and she didn't even hesitate to accept. This was the closest thing to a date she would ever have. "We shall indeed."

They arrived in the great hall just seconds before Dumbledore rose to gain everyone's attention, and luckily therefore nobody paid them much mind. A few glances here and there, more likely than not accompanied by frowning faces that studied the sight of the two dark figures in the shadows by the doors, who looked almost indignantly bored. And boy, the headmaster could talk and talk forever if he fancied it, about courage and justice and kindness and all those nimble ideals Robin fancied a more practical approach to. But finally his words faded into applause, and the crowds began moving and talking again.

"Is it me or does the speech get more righteous every single year?" Asked Robin, while she let Snape lead her towards their usual table in the far corner, only to find a group of adults sitting there already. In immediate confusion, they halted in the middle of the room, and her eyes found his in a silent question. Good thing it had become almost a bit of a routine that whenever she failed to take notice of something that was going on around her, he would know exactly what she had missed and could fill her in.

"Dumbledore opened the ball to a larger public this year." He explained, with a quiet yet undoubtedly disdainful tone. "Parents, important families, retired professors, ministry officials and the like."

"Why on earth would he allow them at a school ball? I mean… isn't this technically supposed to be for the students' enjoyment?" Robin inquired, while they continued moving through the room in search of an empty table, but finding none.

"Remember what I told you about the reasons for bringing this ball into existence in the first place?" Snape mused, and his eyes continued scanning the room, but not for a table anymore. Robin wondered who he was searching for.

"Oh. Yes, I do remember that."

"Well, let me assure you that this decision on the headmaster's end has something to do with the very likes of it."

"Great…" Robin sighed under her breath, and finally they settled for just standing at the edge of the dancefloor like everyone else who hadn't yet put a claim on a sitting spot. Somehow, the entire thing didn't seem like a fun night with friends anymore, but the very thing that was prone to make her anxious. Too many people, too many strangers mostly, and no certain place to sit and endure it all from the ranks… this was going to be hell. Or maybe, not entirely.

"May I have the first dance?" Snape asked, just when the occasion was announced and the musicians got ready to lead the way through the night. He held a hand out to Robin, in an expression of calm neutrality rather than the usual scowl even though they were surrounded by hundreds of people. Robin's heart skipped a beat, and she had to remind herself not to grin like a fool while yet her lips parted in surprise. Had he actually just asked her to dance? With words, in public, and for the first dance out of all the possible ones tonight?

"Isn't the first dance just for important people and their dates?" She quirked an eyebrow at him in mild amusement at last, choosing humour over astonishment and tingles, which would border dangerously on allowing herself to hope again.

"It is also reserved for the professors and overall staff, and even if you rightly so keep ignoring that, this group also entails me. As it is, I do not dance with anyone but you, so they will have to bear with the two of us, or live with neither." He replied so smoothly that Robin had no time to doubt or question his words when she placed her hand in his and let him lead her onto the dancefloor. Bloody hell… now all eyes were on her indeed, and she actually couldn't care less for once.

They got into position as did the other couples around them, some of which Robin knew and some of which she hadn't seen before, but when the music started, the world faded in return and left only Robin and Snape and the music behind. This wasn't hell, she found, but rather a piece of heaven on earth. Just the two of them, moving through the open space while never once looking at anything but each other. And in the very spirit of two weeks prior, Robin yet again couldn't help the smile on her lips as she held his gaze. The only thing she missed was the warmth of his hand on her back, the almost scorching touch, as now the thick fabric of her dress dimmed it down quite a bit and left her to feel the comforting pressure of it more than the heat. How nice would it be to have his fingers dancing across her skin? To dwell in his warmth for a bit and let it burn out the cold winter within her? She could only dream.

"I believe we make quite the sight." His quiet voice broke through her haze of excited, calm ambivalence, and the world regained it's hard corners and outlines. Gone was the dream, delayed to haunt her in her sleep tonight.

"We simply know how to dance." She replied with a subtle smirk, and found that the world wasn't quite so bad either if it still entailed the two of them together. "They probably don't get to see that all too often."

"I was thinking more along the terms of our common choice of… unusual wardrobe, but yes, I agree with your assessment as well."

"What other than unusual would they have expected of the dungeon bat and the insane girl?"

"Is that how people think of us?"

"I believe so." Robin smiled, but it took everything she had not to show the true effect his words were having on her. Was she so far gone by now that all it took was an 'us' ghosting past his lips to unravel the walls that contained her emotions? It seemed so.

The music stopped then, fading off the last strings as their flowing moments came to a halt as well. Too bad it was over. But perhaps they could do this again, now that the first dance had officially proclaimed them as partners for the night. It was an official custom after all, right? Robin held onto that string of hope at least as they made their way off the dancefloor and straight towards the far corner where their usual table lay empty now. Too bad for whoever had vacated it; now it was Robin's to keep.

They sat down to face the hall as always, and while it was significantly more crowded this year than it had been in the years prior, that also gave them quite a few more victims to observe and comment on. They got exactly two hours to themselves before their social invisibility was broken by the still distant but determined appearance of Cas. In her tow the other six people, who looked a lot less eager than her to get anywhere near Snape tonight. Robin sighed to herself in mild disappointment before anyone even spoke up; she would have to make a choice between her friends and her best friend now, and she hated that beyond measure. Why did life have to be so unfair at times?

"I know what you're thinking." Snape said then, quietly even though the ground of people still had to come anywhere near the table. "And you shouldn't be concerned, I understand the problem fairly well. I will leave if they wish to spend time with you."

He was already up on his feet and ready to just walk away when Robin caught his hand, and held onto it so tightly that his eyebrows lifted up when he looked back down at her.

"Don't think it's a decision I want to make, okay?" She asked with a sadness she didn't bother to hide. "It's not a decision I can make, actually, and I simply would've told them to deal with it or be the ones to leave if they've got a problem with your company."

"I know. And since it isn't a decision you should have to make, I made it for you now, by offering to leave."

"I don't want to spend the evening without you…" The words spilled past Robin's lips without any restraint now, and she was glad for that. It made the corners of his lips curl upwards for a fleeting moment at least.

"In that case, I might have to come and rescue you from their fangs in two hours for another dance. Good solution?"

"Make that one hour instead and we have a good solution indeed." She smiled up at him, and only now realised that she was still clasping his hand like a lifeline. Reluctantly but necessarily she finally let go. "I can't have four teen girls and three boys around me for much longer than that."

"As you wish." He returned a knowing not-smirk for a second, then turned on his heels and disappeared in the crowds just when Cas reached the table.

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mists-of-hithlum · 4 years

Text

Finally! I did finish this, right before midnight my time. A piece for the second day of Finwëan Ladies Week that is quite a bit longer than I meant it to be.

I apologize for any mistakes, it is late and this is not beta’d. Please point out the mistakes to me if you find them because English is not my native language.

Quenya

Atar – Father

Nésa - Sister

Nolofinwë (Nolvo) – Fingolfin

Arafinwë – Finarfin

Curufinwë Fëanaro (Curvo) – Feanor

Moringotto – Morgoth

Endor - Middle-Earth

“Irimë?”

“Irimë, where are you?”

“Irimë, you were supposed to stay with me! Come back here, right now!”

Findis sighs and smooths out her blue dress. Running around up here was supposed to be Nolofinwë’s task! She really does not know why she agreed to cover for her younger brother. Her dress was made for a council meeting, not for chasing after her little sister! She nearly stumbled over its edge no less than three times while running up the stairs and she still could not find Irimë anywhere. Oh, she is not looking forward to the lecture she and Nolofinwë are going to receive from Atar.

How do you just lose a sibling? Especially in a single building? The palace of the House of Ingwe is big, yes, but not nearly big enough for Irimë to disappear like this. Or at least it shouldn’t be! Findis has spent far more time than Irimë in here. She should be able to find her sister if she sets her mind to it!

Findis is nearly ready to just give up and let her sister get up to whatever mischief she has set her stubborn head to next when her ears pick up a nearly inaudible sound. A quiet giggle, coming the door to her right. She sighs again. If her sister has sneaked into the guest rooms rooms again, she is not going to protect her from the scolding Atar is going to subject her to.

“Irimë? Are you in there?”

Only silence answers her, but the door is slightly ajar. That is all the proof she needs to walk straight into the room.

“Irimë!”

Her little sister kneels on the bed. She is wrapped in blankets and pillows, all of them not meant to be used by the bored youngest daughter of Finwë Noldoran, who is in that exact moment handling out trade agreements with the owner of this palace, Ingwë, king of the Vanyar. Findis would like to curse loudly and creative but unfortunately, the source of her problems is too young to hear words like this. And a proper lady should not curse, regardless of circumstances. At least that is what Rilmanissë keeps telling her.

“Findis! Did you come to play with me?” Irimë’s big, blue eyes gleam with innocence, but Findis knows her sister too well (and has spent too much of her afternoon climbing through dusty unused passages and abandoned storage rooms). Findis can feel the comfort and warmth Irimë feels right now without even coming near her sister or the blankets.

“No, I was searching for you. You ran away from the meeting and your brother and me spent the whole time combing the castle for you. Why did you hide here?”

“Because it’s quiet,” Irimë tells her. “No one comes here. It was a bit boring at first, but then I found the blankets.” She beams with pride. Findis is tempted to hide her head in her hands. She does not need much imagination to know how the other rooms must look but she is too tired to make an attempt at fixing it right now.

“You need to come with me, Irimë. The others are worried.”

“Oh, Nolvo?” Irimë looks even more innocent. That does nothing to soothe Findis’ nerves. “I told him already. He’s on his way with food from the kitchen.”

“And you two are planning to do what, exactly? I can not just leave you without anyone of age, you know that.”

“But we won’t be alone.” Irimë’s eyes remind her of those of a little dog, the way she looks at her older sister. “You will stay here, right?”

“Please?” adds Nolofinwë. He carries a basket full of various specialtys of the Vanyar but Findis believes to see some Noldorin cuisine too. His breathing is heavy from climbing so many stairs.

“I need to attend the council meeting,” Findis protests.

“You’re already too late for that,” Nolofinwë counters with a wide grin. “Or do you want to run down all those stairs and then arrive too late at the door, causing a scene?”

Findis sends him an angry glare. They know her too well.

“Please, Findis. A whole afternoon, just us.”

Findis is seriously tempted before the annoying bit of her head reminds her of who she has forgotten while running through Ingwë’s castle.

“What about Fëanaro? He will be angry we excluded him.” Not that her elder brother is pleasant company when he is in one of his moods – especially with Nolofinwë nearby – but he would at least deserve an invitation., if only that he wouldn’t complain afterward or plot some elaborate revenge.

“Curvo?” Findis still has no idea how Fëanaro has not murdered Nolofinwë for the epessë he so clearly despises. “Oh, he left. I think about half an hour ago? Muttered something about spending his time somewhere actually useful. I am quite sure he went in search of a forge.”

“Of course he did.” Findis can’t stop the words before they leave her tongue.

“So you’ll stay?”

“All right.” Findis lets herself fall onto the bed too and grabs a pastry.

Her father has centuries of experience with diplomacy. He will know how to handle this.

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"Irimë, did you go insane too?”

“Why? Do you not trust me?”

“I trust you, completely, and you know that,” protests Findis. “But nothing awaits you in Endor aside from fire and death!”

“How can you be so certain? Have you seen everything the future entails, nésa?”

“I do not need foresight to tell you such.” Findis feels an icy calm in her body. “Anyone with eyes could tell you that you will not stand a chance against one of the Valar.”

“Just because no one has tried before does not mean it is impossible.”

Findis recognizes the defiant look in her sister’s eyes all too well. But it is not any longer about running of in search of an adventure or the next mischief she could get up to. If she lets her sister go now, it will be her death. Findis has never posessed the gift of foresight, unlike many of her family, but mere elves will not be enough to stand against a Vala. Even if it is her brilliant, doomed, insane, genius brother Fëanaro.

“We will go, Findis. And you cannot stop us.”

The fury in Irimë’s eyes also flows in the bond Findis and her sister share since their birth. They have both tried to close it off before the confrontation but anger and worry make Findis unable to concentrate enough. She suspects it is the same with her sister.

“So Nolofinwë and Arafinwë will not abandon this foolish quest either?”

“Moringotto killed our father!” Now the final dam is broken and Irimë’s feelings unleash. Findis can feel them in her stomach, mingling with her own fury and creating a dangerous mixture. She needs more willpower than she can ever remember to stay calm.

“He was my father too.” Ice covers her voice.

“And you want to let his murderer get away with it!” For the first time Irimë rises her voice.

“Father would not have wanted for you to run to your deaths!”

“Father would not have wanted to die!”

Both sisters are breathing hard.

“Atar loved us, nésa. The least we can do for him is to avenge his murder.” Irimë is pleading. It takes Findis a lot of strength to refuse to allow those words into her heart. She cannot afford any cracks in her decision.

“Someone has to stay here and lead our people when you all are convinced to throw yourselves as fast as possible inside Mandos!” she retorts. It is cruel and she knows it, but she is desperate. Why would nobody listen to reason?

Irimë flinches as if Findis had struck her. “So that is what you think of us, your siblings?”

The bitterness in her voice is unmistakable.

“If that is what you choose to believe, it is up to you. But I hope you will think better of me when we return with Morgoth’s head in our hands.”

She leaves before Findis can muster up any form of retort. Only her retreating back with shoulders set is visible.

Findis does not have the gift of foresight but she knows in her heart that this was the last time she will see her sister alive.

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It takes her a long time to work up the courage for what she is going to do. The bond between her and Irimë has darkened in the time they have not seen each other. The once brilliant green of her sister’s fëa has darkened to a matter green, like you would find it of plants growing in the shadow. Her own thread of the bond looks the same shade of gold as always but it is thinner than she remembers.

Findis hesitates for a moment. Does she truly want to do this?

And then, like always, Irimë manages to ruin all the plans she made in a few seconds.

“Findis?”

She startles. The bond between their Fëas has not been active since that last argument between them. After the horrors of Alqualonde Findis was not exactly feeling encouraged to seek her sister out and Irimë had always been able to out-stubborn everyone around her, even among the Noldor.

And if she is honest, then she was not sure anymore if a connection between them would even be possible. Endor is far away from Valinorë and she knows of many who’s bond is so fragile they cannot talk anymore.

“Irimë?”

She is cautious. No one could blame her. The destruction of Alqualonde is years past but she will never forget the sight of blood on those stairs.

“I… I wasn’t sure you would actually answer.”

Irimë must truly be nervous when she relapses into a way of speech she has not used since they were both children.

“Why should I have not? Despite everything, Irimë, you are still my sister. Just as Fëanaro was always our brother, no matter how he loathed to call us such.”

There is a feeling of amusement in their bond but tainted by wariness and grief. Oh Eru, so much grief.

“I have not heard that name in a long time. They call me Lalwen, here.”

“Lalwen?” The name feels strange on her tongue even if a bond between fear does not require her actually speaking the words. “A form of Lalwendë?” She had always thought her sister preferred her Father-name. A strange thought, that so many people only knew her by another name entirely.

“The Sindar here are not used to speaking Quenya. We made it easier for them and for us.”

“Why did you reach out to me, Irimë? It is not to discuss names. You are not the one of our family who was obsessed with linguistics.”

A sudden jolt of pain from the bond makes Findis flinch.

“Findis, Feanor - Fëanaro… Our brother is dead.”

“What?” It takes her longer than it should to recognize that she has whispered the word out loud.

“He fell shortly after his arrival in Middle-earth – I mean Endor.”

“No.” It is all Findis feels capable bringing into words right now. The glowing feeling of attempted comfort from the bond tells her that Irimë – or is it Lalwen, now? - felt the uproar of feelings in her fëa. “How?”

“Morgoth.” Even if she cannot see her the face of her sister, Findis can picture the disgust on it still perfectly. “That is how we are calling Moringotto in these days.”

Findis is filled with too much grief to lord a “I told you so” over her sister. She knew the moment her siblings departed that they would most likely never return, but hearing it from Irimë…

Fëanaro had never been the most pleasant of brothers and she could have not existed at all for some days in his eyes, but he is still her brother. Was. Was still her brother. Her irritating, insane older brother that had succeded at everything and infuriated the whole Court of the Noldor. Her brother who had loved his wife even after wedding much younger than it was proper. Their children and the smile on Fëanaro’s face when his sons were around him.

The way he smiled less and less after Melkor was freed. Gleaming eyes in the firelight, speaking of words promising doom to more than the one who spoke them.

“I cannot…” She takes a shaking breath. “I need to be alone right now.” She can feel one last wave of warmth from the bond, then it is silent once again. Irimë’s presence has all but disappeared. Findis closes her eyes and the sobs begin.

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“Lalwen? Are you here?”

Irimë Lalwendë, princess of the Noldor, now called Lalwen and famous for leading High King Fingon’s personal guard turns her head when someone opens her tent.

“You knew I was in here. Why did you even ask?”

Her nephew smiles. It still stings, seeing how her reminds her even more of two lost brothers when he makes that expression, but time has dulled the grief in her heart. It was likely talking to Findis that brought them once again to the forefront of her mind.

She does not know why exactly she decided to call out to her sister. She knows even less why Findis answered in truth. It cannot simply be memories from a time long past.

“There is a last meeting to be had,” Fingon explains. “I thought you would like to be present.”

“Again?” She raises her eyebrows. “I thought we discussed everything necessary already?”

“You know Maedhros. He always wants to make sure everything goes according to plans.” His smile has been washed from his face and replaced by a thoughtful frown.

Lalwen rises from the pitiful thing that has been her bed for months now. “Do you have second thoughts?”

That shakes him up. “And you say I ask stupid questions!” A hint of the old charm and easy laughter lies in his voice that all but disappeared after his father’s death.

She smiles too. Sometimes Fingon is just too earnest for his own good. The responsibility of a whole people will do that to you.

“Let’s go. There is still enough time to rest after we sent Morgoth running to the hills!”

The fact she cannot tell how much of her nephew’s cheer is faked and how much is genuine should probably frighten her, but this is a battle lost a long time ago. They will meet Morgoth on the battlefield tomorrow, for better or for worse.

“Lead the way.”

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Lalwen exchanges a glance with Fingon. They will not get out of here alive. Her nephews’ eyes tell her that he knows. They share a nod.

She strengthens her grip around her battle axe. At least they will die together. But there is one last thing she needs to do before Namo will claim her soul.

“Findis?”

“Nésa? I am in a council meeting right now. Is there another time?”

“I love you.”

“Irimë, what…?”

“Don’t forget. Please.”

Pain.

Searing, neverending pain. Oh, she hates those Balrogs.

“Irimë, answer me.”

She falls.

“Irimë, we’re not children anymore. Stop ignoring me.”

“Irimë, that’s not funny.”

There is no breath in her lungs left.

“Irimë?”

“Nésa!”

They say Princess Findis just collapsed in a meeting one day. Though many tried to find out the reason behind this, the princess steadfastly refused to share. But sometimes, you would find her standing on the highest balcony in King Ingwë’s palace and looking into the east for hours, never moving, never saying a word.

#Irimë #findis #finwean ladies week #fingolfin #The Silmarillion #my fanfic

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lost-eternity · 4 years

Text

Matchup Requests *CLOSED*

This was done as a trade instead of a standard match up, hence why I am permitting it. :)

Matchup for @stormra

okie dokie I match you with...

I have to admit, this was a bit of a difficult one. It was really between Charles Grey and Sebastian. And it was close. But a few small details caused me to lean towards Grey instead of Sebby. I’ll explain why later on.

First of all, your love languages mesh rather perfectly

Charles Grey’s (inflated) ego causes him to thoroughly enjoy the praise and affection you lavish upon him

He enjoys being treated as a prince and has no inclination to returning these affections

It’s a selfish love but weirdly enough, it works

He also doesn’t give enough craps to care for society or propriety to be embarrassed or ashamed of your advances

He is quite inept at displaying physical affection and his attempts are half-hearted at best

It’s that blasted ego again

But he does try. In his own little way

He may (attempt to) awkwardly cook something for you, or more likely than not, force you to take fencing lessons

He always wins

And he goes really hard on you claiming that you would never learn if he went easy

It’s laborious and by the end of each session you are close to collapsing from exhaustion

Insert a lewd joke here, “Oh, my dear, if this is how easily you tire, I better condition you for my bedchamber...”

Yeah, it turns out he is a complete pervert sometimes

But fencing is one of the few ways he can actually express himself

Which seems a bit paradoxical if that expression is affection or love

But it is kind of cute.

He is determined to teach you, and although he may not be the most outwardly affectionate, the amount of time and effort he invests in you is enough to tell you how much he cares

He is a very busy man you know, running missions and odd errands for the queen

His free time is extremely precious for him

So the mere fact that he is spending it with you is a lot more monumental than most people would assume

But you are smart enough to realise this

And that is one of the reasons I did not pair you with Sebastian.

Sebastian is a lot more how shall we put it... salacious. His flirting is subtle in public but that bastard would do anything to make his lover blush, testing the limits of society and still managing to get by without being caught... somehow. It’s his way of exercising control and I think that would really clash with your love language.

So,

Charles Grey is also a rather chipper fellow.

Like "chipper" may be an understatement

Excitable puppy man is more like it, at least when it comes to fencing... or maiming... the dude has weird hobbies

But he really understands your desire to travel. He is full of jittery energy that he uses releases running errands for the Queen, travelling across all of the UK. And really most of Europe running diplomacy missions and handling sensitive cases

He would probably be hesitant to allow you to accompany him

But you'd wear him down eventually

Grey really understands your wanderlust, he has a hard time focusing on monotonous tasks or locations as well

So he may allow you to join him

With one *small* caveat

You have to defeat him in a fencing duel first

Which is absolute shit. But you understand where he is coming from.

That ego of his leads him to consider himself the best swordsman in Europe, if not the world

He figures that if you manage to strike him down then you could handle yourself with anyone

And that is no small task

It seems entirely daunting and near impossible (which is probably another reason he assigned it)

And that brings me to my next point.

Charles Grey needs some who is open minded and chill enough to out up with his shit

But also stubborn and outspoken enough to shut him down when he tries some spectacularly stupid

Which is why you would work well with him. Not only does your nonchalance perfectly foil his constant energy and inquisitive nature, but you also have set your boundaries and know when to shut down schemes and ideas

So yeah

You begin training extra hard

For maybe like a day

Then you give up

It's hard, everything hurts, you are exhausted, and all you MIGHT get out of it is one lousy trip

So you begin putting training sessions off

"I'm not feeling well."

"I'll start once I finish this book"

"Oooh, it's too late now"

To say that Grey would be discouraged and slightly hurt is an understatement

His passion and life blood is fencing. He has worked really hard to get to this point and the fact that his significant other takes no interest in it wounds him

This could definitely be a point of discourse if your relationship

But you have to remain open with each other and talk it out

That is the most important thing. Communication. And let's be honest. Charles isn't not going to say shit

He is "too manly" or too egotistical to admit his feelings

You'd have to be the one to approach him on the matter

But I feel like you would. You are used to hearing problems from your friends. You know when something is wrong and better yet, you listen

After a talk, he understands that it may not be the fencing specifically you are disinterested in

But you just struggle to maintain motivation

And from that moment on, Charles Grey becomes your personal cheerleader

He's the mom at a soccer game freaking s c r e e c h i n g and going "that's my girl!" whenever you win a match

He takes pride in all he does, and he is proud of his protégé

He never allows you to lose motivation and is (annoyingly) insistent about the fencing

Which again, could lead to some arguments if you resist

But he is doing it from a place of love because he can see how miserable you are cooped up in the same place

He knows you

And finally, the day arrives that you set to duel Charles Grey himself. If you win, you get to attend some of his missions with him (others are too sensitive to risk being seen by a civilian)

You are understandably nervous, but also introspective. Honestly it is probably a tidal wave of emotions far too complex to convey with words

But ill try

Let me just....

This morning was like most mornings.

A heavy fog blanketed the docile countryside, most animals just began to shake off the effects of the previous night's slumber.

Commoners rose with the peeking rays of the sun, beginning to perform their routine tasks before the last of the fog had been burned away by the heat. For most people this day was completely, utterly, ordinary.

But not for you.

This day meant everything. This day meant your freedom.

You had risen before even the sun, shedding your skirts in exchange for ivory fencing gear, exchanging your fan for a rapier and your hats for a meshed mask. This had been your life for the past year, and would continue to be so until your final breath.

But today. Today was different.

Today determined your future. And quite frankly, your sanity.

And all you had to do was defeat your lover in close quarters combat. A monumental task in-of itself. Half of your acquaintances thought you mad, the other half patronized you, treating your struggle as a desperate cry for attention. They simply couldn't understand why a lady would go through such trouble as to challenge the country’s greatest swordsman. A woman's place was in the house, and in home is where she is complete. Why would she bother her pretty little head and sully herself in the wretched world around her? That was a man's job, such trifling affairs should be of no concern for a lady.

"She is odd, that one." They would say. But they didn't understand, how could they?

Raised under the constrictive hand of the patriarchy, they were forced into complacency. A complacency so culturally ingrained that they themselves never sought to question it. Or, those that did often keeled to the whims of man's iron fist in fear of social ostracism and reputational backlash.

But you were different.

From childhood you felt the pangs, the longing to not only see but experience both the beauty and sorrow of the world around you. To learn and ingrain yourself with the cultures, to explore every nook and cranny of your planet. You could never understand why those around you seemed so content with living and dying inconsequentially, never experiencing the midnight sun or the sweeping winds of the steppe. Dying without ever truly living. Merely existing in their self-made reality, completely ignorant to the bright, beautiful world around them.

Why stay put when you can travel?

Why exist when you can live?

These questions, along with the persistent voice of your instructor (and fiancé), kept you focused and motivated. All of that training, all of those hours of arduous, grueling work had lead to this moment.

You stood within the fencing hall, the lack of bodies usually present caused the room to echo with each clicking foot fall on the tile floor. It was wide, empty, and entirely unwelcoming. It felt like a stranger to you, despite the year of training you had completed within its walls.

Before you stood a similarly dressed figure, its face obscured by the dark meshing that covered the helmet.

It was entirely impersonal.

A faceless enemy in a sea of a faceless crowd.

But you knew better. His posture was all too familiar to you. The slight tilt of his head, the pitch of his shoulders, the strangely comforting steady hand in which he held his weapon. This was your lover, Charles Grey. And your opponent.

It was definitely surreal. He rarely ever wore his mask in training. The absence of his characteristic gloating smile and talkative nature felt almost lacking. It was rare that he would be so quiet... so solemn. But he was just as aware of your current situation as you were. And how much it meant to you.

Without a word, he raised his weapon and the battle commenced.

It was an intense battle

With every blow he performed, your parried and dodged

With a feline grace, you danced up-top light heels, twirling and spinning in an almost melodic fashion

Metal clashed against metal, each crack ringing through your ears

You had trained enough with him to know that he had a tendency to leave his left side unguarded and exposed

But he also trained with you to know that you can forget to guard your knees

And as the minutes tick by, marking one of the longest conflicts you had ever had with him, exhaustion sets into your bones

And you falter

The blow is lightning fast, you hardly have a chance to comprehend his movements

But his hips are besides yours, his knee hooked behind your leg.

He pushed you backwards with his forearm, causing you to fall backwards, only to trip on his knee and slam against the ground

Something cool and metallic is pressed to the back your neck

You don't need to look to know it is the rapier and that you have lost

The sound of you two's laboured breaths echoes through the empty chambers

Several seconds tick by as the two of you gather your thoughts

...You... lost

You finally turn yourself around, noticing that Charles had removed his fencing helmet

Damp silver hair sticks to his forehead, matted and plastered across his face

For a moment, a look of sorrow flickered across his handsome features, only to be replaced by that typical cheeky grin

"You lost, luv. Better luck next time, eh?"

You never really had much of a plan

But seeing that smug expression kicked your instincts into overdrive

With one fluid scissor sweep, you dislodged his balancing, a well-placed kick aiming where the sun don't shine toppled him over entirely

And then he was on the floor next to you, his face contorted in an express of pain

You were quick to discard his weapon and straddle him, keeping his wrists pinned above his head to the floor

"Lesson one: never trust your opponent"

You parroted this line to him, one he had told you many of times

He only managed a pained grunt in response

Chuckling, you apologized with a chaste kiss which he all too eagerly accepted

He was probably just being theatrical to get more kisses

You did not have much time to ponder the situation before a polite round of applause erupted from a nearby alcove

You nearly jumped out of your skin

You did not notice the shawled figure, cloaked in all black, like a walking shadow

The figure took a few steps forward, emerging to the light

And that is when you realized who it was

Queen Victoria herself

By her side, astute as always was the man you practically considered a brother

Charles Phipps

By now, you were extremely aware of the suggestive position you were in

Straddling Charles Grey, your hips against his, his wrists clasped tightly in your hands and pinned above his head

And oh, gods that insufferable smirk with which he was regarding

"As you can see, your majesty, my darling is highly... proficient." Grey practically hummed

You quickly scrambled to your feet, unsure how to handle yourself in the presence of a queen

Turns out, Grey had invited her to witness your duel in hopes of securing you a position under her employ. Either as an emissary or housekeeper.

According to Phipps, She was quite impressed by your performance, even though you lost

The only other person she had seen to be able to keep pace with Grey was Phipps... and a certain blonde who shall not be named

And that is the story of how you became the head maid for the Queen herself and an emissary on par with Grey himself, running missions as a husband-wife warrior squad, haha

You two probably met in an odd way

I’d say for a fact that you were attracted to Sphere music hall

It’s like that place was made for you

Semi-modern concert style music hall which people hailing from all backgrounds and classes intermingled together in harmony

Divinations and readings were done for free and in return, each patron was given a bracelet depicting their star sign.

As a matter of fact, a lot had to do with the star signs.

Meditations were conducted in between hours and food served

It was a really great place to go, somewhere you fit it because you had always been an outcast

Forced to keep your craft a secret in fear of retribution from the church, you usually made coin as a street performer and singer

It was not a lot, but it was certainly enough to keep you off the streets

Unfortunately that also meant you were constricted to the same place

Your family had consistently tried to marry you off to some rich white dude

Well, rich(er)

But you did not want to be wife and then a stay at home mother

That was somehow worse than your current situation

Also your opinionated and confident demeanour often scared off potential suitors

It was a serious problem because apparently women were supposed to be soft spoken and weak.

But you on other other hand, never showed weakness

It was far too “masuline” apparently

So you decided to strike out on your own and try to make it as a singer

Easier said than done

In the music hall, you truly felt free to express yourself

Its charismatic leader put major emphasis on the stars and night sky, he was extremely introspective and the two of you instantly hit it off (I considered matching you with Blavat instead of Grey but I kinda feel like you two would work better as friends)

You were completely enthralled with his demeanour and exuberance

And you consistently attended the hall as it was the only place you felt you truly belonged, no one casting judgmental stares, no whispers behind your back, and most of all, you felt a sense of camaraderie that you have never felt before

And as a result, you fell victim to the cult

Initially, the Queen garnered concerns over the existence of this Music Hall and the traction it was gaining. As a result, she sent out her very own Charles and Phipps to scope out the place before sending word to Ciel Phantomhive

Infiltrating undercover as guests, the Queen’s handy butlers began an inspection of the area

There they ran into you

Literally

You were in the middle of entertaining a small portion of attendees with a song at the behest of Blavat himself (he was actually looking to hire you as a backup singer for the Starlight Four but you were not aware of this)

You were reaching the crescendo of your song when a drunken man slammed into you

You uttered an apology but he seemed rather intent on making himself a nuisance

“Watc’ yaaaa, yaaa stoopid *hic* bitccccc”

You took a few steps back in response as he staggered forward, raising a palm as if to strike you

Before you could react, a flash of white covered your vision

A man stood before you, sword drawn and dawned in a blindingly white coat

Silver tresses rolled down his back, as he glared up at your attacker from behind attractively long lashes

How he managed to sneak a rapier into the party was completely beyond you, yet here he was

“Now, didn’t your mama teach you manners?” He cooed, a slightly maniacal smile across his lips

“Yoooou wanna go?” The man sneered, “I can tak *hic* you pwetty boooy”

Of course, this scene began to attract attention

The murmurings and pleasant violin music had all but stopped as thousands of eyes turned to face you

Blavat had to step in, nervously defusing the situation

He had the drunkard escorted out and moved to confiscate the weapon from the white-clad man only to get the think pointed at his throat

“A man’s worth is in his sword. It would be cruel to take that away from him.”

You were entirely unsure if he was being literal or making a dirty innuendo with that statement

Regardless of his intentions, he was promptly thrown out as well

Much to the chagrin of a separate, similarly dressed man who seemed down right exasperated with his partner’s trigger happy (blade happy?) tendencies.

You decided to follow this peculiar stranger out and thank him for what he did

You found him trying to crawl through a window, seeking re-entry into the part.

“Uh, excuse me...” You called to him as he fiddled with the lock on the window. You had no idea how he managed to climb up that high in such a short amount of time, but he had perched himself rather precariously on the window sill.

“Not right now, luv.” He called back, “I am busy.”

“I just wanted to thank you for what you did back there. I could have been hurt.”

He paused, not once looking back at you. “Right. Who are you?”

You were rather taken aback

He literally just saved you, how could he not remember you?

“Look, if you aren’t going to pay me the mind to even look at me, I won’t take the effort to thank you.” You huffed and turned to walk away

“I wouldn’t go back there if I were you.”

His voice caused you to halt in your tracks. You spun around to stare at him incredulously. “Excuse you?”

God, those silver eyes were breathtaking as he gazed at you, practically oozing with a feline grace

“Those people aren’t good people.” He stated in a matter-of-fact tone

“Oh? And what do you know about them?” You retorted defensively

“More than you, obviously.” He finally managed to pry the window open. “Her majesty has good instincts. She knows this place is dangerous, else-wise she wouldn’t have sent me.”

And with that weirdly convoluted and vague sentence, he slipped back inside and disappeared

You were left to ponder the meaning of his words

Her majesty?

This bloak knew the bloody Queen?!?!

What else did he know?

What could possibly be so bad about the hall?

You decided to call it quits early that night to process. You never thought you would ever see him again, or so you thought

You had been doing your research, sticking your nose in places you probably should not have

Blavat, someone you once considered a close and trusted friend almost seemed menacing to you

And he definitely picked up on your closed off body language

But you knew that something fishy was going on during those “private” events. Only specific people were ever invited (AKA not you)

It all just seemed really sus

And you were determined to find out

So you snuck in

Having spent many hours in the hall, you were aware of certain passages and entrances that others were not

And you were able to sneak in without much issue

But you weren’t able to see much

A heavy smoke filled the air, smelling pleasantly of posies and roses

Your eyes began to droop and heaviness set into your lids

And you fell asleep

You woke up, with the concerned and slightly perturbed face of Blavat staring down at you

Well, shit... busted

“We had a nice thing going, y/n. And you just had to ruin it.” Blavat stated callously. “You know those events are private.”

And with that, you were barred from entering the music hall... permanently

This was definitely rather devastating as it was the only place you could truly be yourself without fear of rejection of prosecution

But now you were more sure than ever that something was amiss in that hall

Why else would they be so strict?

You were probably only left alive because they knew that whatever gas they used to put out those in attendance also affected you before you could see anything incriminating

And so you began trying to locate that mysterious man in white

He seemed to have more answers than you did

It did not take long to figure out his name and occupation. Charles Grey. Butler to the Queen herself

He must have been quite the impressive butler to be going out on scouting missions for the Queen and not just serving tea

Regardless, gaining an audience with him was nearly impossible

So you would just have to attract his attention...

Somehow

Given his affinity towards sword fights, you were sure that a loud brawl outside the palace itself would almost certain garner his attention

The real question was, where in the world would you get people foolish enough to pull such a stunt and risk getting arrested

Sooo, maybe not that

You might have to work backwards

Ask around and find those that may be acquaintances with him

Which was a lot harder than it looked

It took days of searching, but you were eventually sent to speak with a mortician who according to your contact “knows everyone who is no one”... whatever that meant

It did not take too long to find out

This mortician was... eccentric to put it in the most polite of terms

But he was definitely connected with Britain's underbelly

Which you assumed is where the “everyone who is no one” comes from

You came in hoping to pay him off, to which he blatantly refused, instead asking for you to make him laugh

Which was an odd request but one which you were willing to comply if it meant breaking the case

You spent hours trying different tactics to no avail

Until you sang a very dirty and very perverted song (Most likely “God’s Loophoel”. Yeah, actually don’t look that up, it is exactly as it sounds)

He seemed to enjoy that far too much as his cackles were absolutely thunderous

In tears, he kindly revealed to you that he was familiar with this Charles Grey and could pull a few favours to get you in contact

But he never said when, nor did he ever say where

But he did ensure word of your snooping reached the ears of Charles Grey who surprised you in your own home whilst you were halfway dressed

He initially was very cross with you poking around, scolding you and chastising you saying that it was “no business for a lady”

But you shut him down pretty quick

And afterwards, the two of you hit it off and decided to make evening tea on Sundays a staple thing

Grey would inform you about the progress of the Sphere Music hall and in return, you would keep well away from it

It worked out for the two of you

But word of your sniffing around had also reached the ears of one certain earl and his own demonic butler

I would be careful about what questions you ask and where you poke your nose

We wouldn’t want it to get bitten off, now would we?

this was a lot of fun to write, I hope you enjoyed reading it, dear. Let me know what you thought

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loquaciousquark · 5 years

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Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E64 (May 28, 2019)

Another week, another adventure into the the wild and dangerous minds of BWF and his wacky sidekicks. I have to say, the quality of Critical Recap has increased dramatically since it first started. Awesome job, Dani! Tonight’s preroll is the celebration of the birthdays of Laura & Liam, which is today, May 28. For those who don’t know, this shared birthday is why they decided to create twins in the first campaign.

Tonight’s guests: Taliesin Jaffe & Matt Mercer.

Tonight’s announcements: Next Monday, June 3, the episode with Ashley Johnson of Between the Sheets will finally air at 7PM Pacific. Brian says she hates talking about herself, but he got her to open it up. They’re already filming season 3 of Between the Sheets, and that will drop monthly episodes once it begins airing. The My Little Pony oneshot, led by Mark Hulmes from High Rollers, will air this Friday night, May 31, at 7PM Pacific. Roger Craig Smith will be one of the special guest stars on that episode. Tales of Equestria will be loaded to YT on Sunday. Denver Pop Culture Con will be this coming weekend. Limited photo and autograph tickets are still available.

Episode 64: A Dangerous Chase

CR Stats: The phrase “end of the day” was used 11 times this episode. 5 things were invented: “don’t shoot the messenger,” “don’t beat a dead horse,” “par for the course,” the game of golf, and ravioli. Laura held Jester’s astonished look for 15 seconds. CR has now aired over 800 hours in total.

DMing for Colbert was surreal for Matt. It was a week one pipe dream for Matt, which means he was a little afraid it would be a letdown. As soon as they began talking about Stephen’s history, he started feeling more comfortable, but it wasn’t until he saw the first cut the next day where he realized how great it had been. He hopes it isn’t the last opportunity they have to play together. They managed to raise over $100,000 for Red Nose Day.

Caduceus is taking a Mary Poppins approach to talking to people as a way of teaching by example. He hopes people will realize that you don’t have to always use violence to get the information you want. Taliesin, on the other hand, realizes that will never happen. Matt talks about how much he really likes the the impact Caduceus has had on the game, and both Tal & Matt talk about the 3-4 day planning session they had on what high wisdom/low int looks like. “That’s rough, buddy.” “Ahh, that’s exactly what that looks like.”

The M9′s deception during Speak with Dead was a little better than Matt had anticipated, so he gave away a little more information than he’d originally intended. Tal talks about how this must have been something Clay watched happen many times growing up in a funeral home, seeing his family Speak with Dead in order to give peace to a grieving family. It’s an interesting juxtaposition of seeing something his family used a bunch of times growing up being used in a very different way now.

The Charis DC was just because it was a very very high DC--but not impossible. There are people in the world who know about it, but they wouldn’t have reason to cross paths with the M9. It would be like an archaeologist.

The stern Cad during the interrogation was partly an act, because he was trying to perform, but also because there’s a bit of Cad we haven’t seen yet. They all agree that in the cast of CR Ashley is the most actual zen. Everyone agrees Travis isn’t even in the running.

Cosplay of the Week: @graviteacosplay with this nifty Nott cosplay.

Matt was a little surprised they took a path just straight through the Barbed Fields instead of taking a more circuitous, safer route. He expected the rest of the group to protest and was more surprised when they didn’t. They talk a bit about Fjord as an agent of both order and chaos and about how he’s trying to find his place in the world.

The near-death experience has left Cad in a place where he’s not making the best decisions right now. He knows this is dangerous, but he knows they need to check it out, and since they’re “on a mission from God,” everything they do is right. “His risk assessment is a little off right now.” Matt is delighted remembering Sam’s face; BWF points out it’s rare we get one on Sam like that.

The Sorrowsworn are scary because they’re entirely based on emotion. To further develop them, Matt likes looking at their abilities and basing their movement in a horror-film way off that. He knew he would get Travis; he wasn’t expecting to get the rest of the table. “I was very proud.”

Tal has no idea how Cad will process these horror creatures. He wasn’t frightened or freaked out by the grotesque, but he wasn’t really prepared for it, and having Caleb go unconscious was a bit of a fright.

Brian mentions for probably the third time in this show that the next season of Blindspot will be the last one. I’m getting the feeling he’s very ready for it to be done.

When Matt was developing Xhorhas, he wanted to develop all these other societies without the ties to the dark gods. How would they develop with their clan ties? What about as people were assimilated into the clans? What tropes has he seen in other media that he needs to avoid? He talks about how when you build independent areas of your world, it’s a helpful thought experiment to imagine what would happen if they collided. He developed a lot of Xhorhas in pockets and then put it all together.

Tal asks Matt if he was surprised they’d picked up the dodeca. He wasn’t exactly surprised--he’d planned for pretty much all the outcomes of that particular early encounter. He’d meant it more as an exploration of the intro to the Xhorhas world and the Krynn dynasty.

Tal laughs about his very visible reaction to Laura’s Vex voice coming out of Jester this episode. It had nothing to do with his efforts at diplomacy later; he just realized he hadn’t been paying enough attention and had no idea what part of Jester this was supposed to be coming out of.

Fanart of the Week: Just a couple of bugs flyin around, by @_sunsetdragon.

In talking about Clay’s pranks on his siblings, he thinks at some point they at the very least took the bed of an errant sibling out while they were sleeping and put it in a tree overnight.

Matt talks about how if there’s nothing in the books that suits the monster he needs, he just creates one. Tal & Matt start talking about a monster he made for an old campaign called a Dragon Engine; it was designed to build a disease that turned all dragons in a world to crystal, which in turn slowly destabilized the world/planes. Matt took a Dollar Store doll head and covered it in Saran Wrap & hot glue with wings & tentacle bits in odd places. His inspiration was a fetus god boss from the Dark Stalker series. Tal remembers being so annoyed he made this amazing, horrifying creation out of four dollars’ worth of miscellanea. Matt talks about how you can do a lot of amazing things with a bit of hot glue (veins, paint, skinless surfaces).

Cad is aware that the the Xhorhouse is a stationary point in his quest; he is not measuring his quest via distance. He feels okay being stationary right now.

Dunamancy had nothing to do with Caleb; Matt had that inspiration on his own as he was developing the Krynn dynasty. It just ended up working very very well with Caleb’s backstory. He talks about how when he reads theories on Reddit about things linking up, 60-70% of them are actually complete coincidence.

Caduceus has zero interest in the war. At best he doesn’t really like the Empire, but Tal doesn’t think he has the intelligence to formulate a more complex opinion on the war. He has no stake in or understanding of the war in any deeper capacity.

Shakaste’s current location was made up on the spot. Everyone thinks about who Shakaste would main in Overwatch. Matt pulls out the McCree voice. Bastion’s short is Matt’s favorite. BWF loves Reinhardt’s. All three of them start talking about John Wick 3 which I HAVEN’T SEEN YET, GDI, if they spoil that I’m going to weep bitter tears of bitterness. Okay, good, we get out alive.

And we’re done and done! We linger on a shot of Matt & Tal trying to figure out why Episode #69 is funny... (nice).

#critical role #critical role spoilers #talks machina #talks machina spoilers #long post for ts

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bentenharuki · 4 years

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I generally don’t do these but...

I will do this because it’s a badge of honor and a thank you for @todayintokyo who gives me a daily vibe out of my second fav Country in the world (first one is my own, of course. My messy, chaotic, genius Italy).

So for everyone interested (I won’t tag people either... if you are among my 250+ readers, do it as freely as you like to share this unexpected hard time along others. Sharing makes us all feel less stranded I guess :))

1. Are you staying home from work/school? Yep. My University (Milano Bicocca) holds in-house lessons and curses and also exams and testing are/will be online. What I miss most are the lab works and the exchanges with foreign schools. I took one a few months ago in London and I was supposed to have another in May but... NOPE, of course.

2. If you’re staying home, who’s there with you? I am alone in my apartment. At first it was supposed to be shared rent with somebody else but then my parents just bought this out and lent it to me. I know. I am spoiled. But very grateful for what I have. I always try to give back the best I can because no one has merits in being born in a family instead of another. (pieces of second-rate philosophy in all my LONG answers courtesy of my mum and her influence on me. She’s a University Professor and her field is.. guess what.. ETHICS PHILOSOPHY)

3. Do you have pets to keep you company? Nope. Not allowed. But I like cats. Cats. CATS. They are elegant, refined, very clean, and they give you consideration and affection ONLY if they like you. I prefer to conquer somebody’s love instead than to have it by default. Then I am naturally a cat person instead of a dog’s. But I like all animals (I like snakes as well, so my range is pretty wide ;)), even though I don’t feel missing any in house. Generally I would be out of home most of the day and no pet would be happy in staying that much alone. I miss my grandparents’ kitty tho :)

4. Who do you miss the most? Family. Friends. Meeting new people when out. And... (is it fine to say it?) Well... in these lockdown times I miss... human touch. (You get what kind). I was seeing a guy when this all started and my old boyf also came back into the picture somehow. All on hold. And I avoid to think how that makes me feel because even in case I’d figure it out, what comes if one can’t act on the awareness? Exactly. So I put it all in a LONG pause. But yeah... I miss contacts. A LOT.

5. When was the last time you left your home? I go out every Thursday to buy all my grocery stuff. I am very methodic. My supermarket is pretty near and it’s BIG and I get there right before it opens (well... one hour almost before it opens, so I can be among the firsts in line). I look like a ninja: very sporty and technically dressed (like for a running competition!) with clothes and shoes which are easy washable, tech mask (it is for cycling competition, with filters specifically medical: the mask is washable as well after you’ve used it, while the filter is obviously not), cotton fit gloves and over them medical gloves (I can’t wear directly medical gloves because my skin is very sensitive and I suffer from nickel allergia, which makes latex gloves a NO NO directly on skin), teck googles which cover also the side of my face (those are from cycling items too) and of course PODS in my ear because I can’t live without music :)

6. What was the last thing you bought? I bought online a few garden tools for my biggest balcony. I have ZERO skill with plants (and I am supposed to become a biologist... the nerve! LOL) but I am keen at making grow at least rosemery for my recipes. I have a little peach tree and it is all fine so far. I have hope I can do better and anyway I have time now ;)

7. Is quarantine driving you insane or are you finally relaxed? I try to keep my routine as it was before. I wake up and perform all my tasks exactly as I was doing before this all started. I am VERY organized and to lax on that would ruin me, so I carefully focus on what I can control the best I can. It feels strange to say it maybe but... this way my mood isn’t particularly affected by this heavy revolution in my (and everyone elses’s) life.

8. Are you a homebody? NOPE. I love people, I love my Milan and its being always full of people everywhere. I love living in my town a TON, I love meeting friends anywhere, go dancing, I love to live my University life in this beautiful and renewed part of Milan; I like being surrounded by my people and meeting new ones. So being stuck at home would seem insufferable for me. But I learnt from this (there’s always something to learn in any experience) that I can be surprisingly ok with staying home too. I came to know better my neighbors. I feel a sense of community with everyone living nearby and I have come to love my domesticity too. It was a surprise for me first ^.^

9. What movies have you watched recently? In Italy, Italia 1 channel has had the WONDERFUL idea to rebroadcast all Harry Potter saga every Monday and Thursday. Today and tomorrow there are the last two installments, so I can say that is what I looked out the most for as in movie things these past weeks (funny how I never particularly adored the books of HP, I mean, I liked them but... being a Tolkien’s devotee Rowlings’ literary efforts always seemed lackluster to me.. and still I have always liked the movies. It’s incoherent I know ;)). But I have Sky at home so I can watch whatever movie I like to whenever I want to. And that leads to VERY little watch actually. I am reading a ton though. I watch what passes on in the National channels actually, out of digital and cable and decide to watch it or not. For instance last Friday Rai 1 (main Italian Channel) broadcasted one of my fav movies from the past three years, GIFTED (with Chris Evans and Octavia Spencer) and I rewatched it with immense pleasure.

10. An event that you were looking forward to that got cancelled? OLYMPICS. I was supposed to be back in Japan with a a couple of friends and my bro for experience the Olympics (especially the volleyball tournaments) between July and August and that got (of course) cancelled. We plan to move it all to next year of course. But it hurts SO MUCH because it was easily what I was looking forward to BEST for all 2020. Hands down.

11. What’s the best and worst thing you’ve had to cancel? Look up. For the other question, I never plan things I don’t like (or at least I try my best not to) and I almost never find myself in the position of being happy for something I had going on which I had to pass due to circumstances. I am a very honest (sometimes to the point of bluntness, though with age I got trained in the fine art of diplomacy, which for me is declined especially in the “IGNORE WHAT IS NOT WORTHY degree) person and if there is something I don’t like I tend to not get involved with it in the first place.

12. Do you have any new hobbies? Eh... the longest list... I love so many things. Sport don’t count as hobbies to me because I treat them as part of my daily life constantly. So take them off. I like to write, to draw, to paint... I like reading, I like learning... I am a tech geek; I like gaming (but that I have to cut it or it would absorb me too much)... I like TRAVELING (that is cut off too of course nowadays), and many other things so I guess I don’t literally have SPACE for new hobbies. My many ones makes it impossible to fall for new things though lately I am becoming a better cook out of needs ;)

13. What are you out of? My lists are made as soon my things become “two items in from having 0″. This way I can’t run out of anything. Did I say already I am a HUGE control freak? THAT ;)

14. What music are you listening to? My itunes collections lists so far 12376 ALBUMS. Then I have the random songs. Latest one I bought (because I buy them all) is Achille Lauro’s latest 16 Marzo

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yb-9RESbeWA

I am also listening a lot to one of my bro’s fav bands Radiohead and as usual a lot to my beloved Imagine Dragons. My mum and dad are also telling me to listen to Bill Withers (who recently passed away) whole discography because he was amazing. I love many music genres. I love ALL which makes the spirit soar and rage and evolve and love and cry and hope.

15. What are you reading? So far in quarantine I read 5 books. I have now to start ORIGINS by Dan Brown. I pick the books I have left unread randomly and that was the pick this time (people gift me with books constantly because they know I am a bookworm when I have spare time).

16. What are you doing for self-care? Keep loving myself and life and the world exactly the way I used to before this all started.

17. Are you exercising? Yup. Tapis roulant, golf training, stepper (all in my house lucky me) and mat and weight training. I have a routine for which I have to train at least one hour a day. NO EXCEPTION. I miss swimming but I will do. I am also in recovery after January’s knee meniscus intervention so my schedules are also taking that into consideration.

18. How’s your toilet paper supply? I'm OK. :)

19. Have you made any changes to your hair during quarantine? Nope. I love to stylize my hair but I don’t have specific cuts. It grows long and then I play with them hairstyles: braids, buns, ponytails, partitions and the likes.. But I have bleached hair and I had to follow my hairdresser advice because I can’t allow ugly roots to take dominance of me ^.^ So I bought the necessary to self bleach them. No need to say as soon as I will be able to, Hairdressers and Massages and SPA will be my first destination ^.^ (beside visiting family and friends of course).

I am fairly sure I put lots of typos and mistakes in this but I have my online lesson just starting in 8 minutes and I can’t review this (I generally never do it anyway). So forgive me and have a beautiful day ;)

STAY SAFE OUT THERE!!! Hugs K.

#ask list #wow my first one #and probably my last #covid19 #quarantine #lockdown #italy #milan #tag your friends #coronavirus

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vintagemermaidscove · 5 years

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The Merthur Fic

That I don’t have time to write...

Chapter 1

Arthur and Merlin are wrapping up a quest at a small neighboring kingdom. Mercia had made plans to take it over with little fuss, but Arthur led a small army to defend the land. Merlin is being tended to in the infirmary after being bucked from his horse near the end of the battle. The widowed Queen, some 80 years old, is presenting Arthur with a token of her affection- as her kingdom is only wealthy enough to just sustain itself, she has no way of properly paying him. Instead she presents as a gift a family heirloom. A braided silver ring that is rumored to have the power to ‘reveal to a ruler all he must know to keep himself and his kingdom safe and happy.’. Arthur believes the woman to be quite mad, but she is sweet and old so he accepts the gift, even putting it on at her insistence.

Arthur collects Merlin (Gwaine and Lance make a couple of cracks about ‘picking up the wife’) and they set out to return to Camelot.

Chapter 2

Uthur receives Arthur upon his return with the usual amount of warmth. He dismisses Merlin so the two may discuss kingdom matter and Arthur feels a pang at his departure. (Annoying as he is, he somehow always manages to cheer Arthur up.)

After the meeting he wanders down to the kitchens, too restless to sleep and hoping someone will be up who can make him a spot of tea. He finds Gwen doing a bit of experimental baking, and they chat. Things have been awkward between the two of them lately, and for some reason in the dead of night he finally is able to talk about it.

He admits when they first met he was quite fond of her and wanted something to happen. She says she would have liked that, but as time went on and Arthur did nothing, she assumed the interest had passed. Then Lance came along, and for a while she thought he might be jealous, but again he did nothing.

Arthur says he wanted to be jealous, even put on the act of it as if it might make it true. She is beautiful and wonderful, and would make a fine queen, so Arthur wanted to want her. But he couldn’t make it so. Gwen smiles and pats his hand, taking no offense. She assures him that when he meets the right person, he won’t have to think so hard about it. He’ll just know.

Chapter 3

The next day Arthur puts the knights through their paces, claiming their performance against the Mercian army was mediocre at best. He tracks Merlin as he walks around the edge of the practice field, subconsciously doing his best to impress him. Uther appears suddenly and calls Arthur over to chastise him for overworking his men. He thinks he ought to be spending more time instructing them and himself on strategy and less on brute force.

Furious at once again being unable to please his father, Arthur takes the long way back to the men and in doing so overhears his knights in conversation.

Percival is griping and doesn’t get how Gwaine can stay so cheery. “Simple mate. You’ve lived here all your life, so you’ve only ever known one king and one prince. But I’ve been around. I’ve seen truly sadistic kings work their knights to death for no good reason, and I’ve seen lazy and stupid princes who don’t give a cup of piss for their kingdom’s safety. Sure, he’s a prick at times, but Arthur’s a good man. He’ll be a bloody good king. So, if he wants to drag me out for training at the crack of dawn or send me to protect some speck of a kingdom, you can bet I’ll do it with a smile. Cause I’ve seen the alternative.”

Lance nods and agrees. Arthur is thrown by the kindness of these words and doesn’t move. Gwaine adds that even so there is one thing he’s being especially idiotic about. All the knights agree, and Leon asks if there’s anything that can be done. Lance says you can’t force things like that, he’ll do something when he’s ready. One knight asks if it’s even allowed in Camelot, since he knows in some kingdoms it isn’t even legal. Merlin appears and asks them what their talking about and they all clam up. Arthur emerges and pretends not to have heard anything.

Chapter 4

During his bath Arthur asks Merlin about what his father said. Merlin says plainly that the knights are perfectly well informed about strategy, but if he does want them studying more it’d be best to do it in winter. Use the last of the summer weather to their advantage. Arthur admits this is passably good advice. Merlin teases him about just how much he knows that Arthur doesn’t ask about. Arthur jokes that he’ll make every effort.

Chapter 5

After supper Morgana pulls Arthur aside and says she heard Uther chewing him out early. (What? I like watching the knights spar, I am only a woman.) She wanted to show him something that might make him feel better.

She brings him to Uther’s study, sure by now he’ll be asleep, and reveals a hidden key and chest. Inside are letters he has written to his deceased wife- many of them about Arthur and Morgana. She’s read them all of course and thinks there are a few he might benefit from reading himself. When asked why she is doing this for him, she informs him that she wants the two of them to get along, because she’s planning on leaving Camelot. She wants to study her magic and knows doing so is impossible here. Maybe before she leaves she can mend some fences.

Arthur reads what his father wrote about him- that he is too hard on Arthur for a reason but doing so breaks his heart because he knows it means they will never be close. But his love for his son and Camelot is so great he is willing to make the sacrifice.

Arthur returns the letters and key to their places and goes to bed. He feels small and alone and desperately wishes he had someone to hold. He tries conjuring up different women in his mind but none of them fit, so at last he gives up, hugs an extra pillow to his chest and tries to fall asleep.

He dreams of dragons, and a flipping coin.

Chapter 6

The next week they receive news that a visiting king from an island kingdom will be coming through Camelot on his way to the coast, and since the two countries have no formal relationship Uther has invited them to stay in the castle.

Arthur groans internally- visit nobles always make Merlin jumpy and odd, even more so than usual.

The king and his delegation arrive- they are wealthier than expected, and quite kind, with colorful regalia and dark skin. The king introduces himself, his advisors and most surprisingly, his husband. Uther is shocked and the entire room gets uncomfortable. The visiting king stiffens, having now seen this reaction a few times on the mainland, and says if he and his husband offend they will find accommodations elsewhere.

Arthur swoops in and assures them there is no problem- their cultures are different, but not at all incompatible, and there is nowhere they would rather have them be. The kitchens have prepared a feast in their honor, and everyone is encouraged to settle in to their quarters before it begins in an hour.

Arthur begins to speak but his father cuts him off. He says he did good work for the sake of diplomacy, but it would be best that after they leave that Camelot do no more business with their country. Arthur tells his father not to be so rash- they know next to nothing about these people.

Uther

-They are strange, they cannot be trusted.

Arthur

-You speak out of fear. Think! Every other nation will be doing the same. They will go back to their homeland with no allies- what if they had us?

Uther

-They have nothing to offer.

Arthur

-You don’t know that!

Uther

-You’re being idealistic and childish.

Arthur

-No father. I am trying to act in the best interest of Camelot. I am trying to be the king you raised me to be.

Uther

-You’re not king yet.

Arthur

-No but like it or not one day I will be. One day Camelot’s fate will rest in my hands. I know you love this kingdom father- I know because I do to. I would die to keep her safe. So please, before you make of the mistake of acting on fear, let me try. Let me talk with these people. You are the one who taught me how to take measure of a man’s heart. Do you not trust your own instruction?

Uther agrees with Arthur not to make any snap judgements, and Arther leaves to go dress for the feast. He bumps into Merlin who was clearly eavesdropping. He doesn’t even have time to scold him before the servant is throwing his arms around him in a hug. He has tears in his eyes.

Chapter 7

The feast goes well, though Uther claims a headache and does not attend. Arthur thinks this is for the best, as he is able to charm the king and prince and learn all about their island- they are in fact quite rich in resources and without allies on the mainland, as they have only just begun to design vessels large enough to travel for months at sea. Morgana attends and is delighted by the company as well, taking the advances of a female body guard in more than perfect stride. Arthur can practically see her scheming to join their traveling party and makes a note to himself to make plans to help her do so.

That night he gets fairly drunk and on his way to his bedroom somehow ends up in Merlin and Gaius’s quarters. He asks Merlin what he thought of their guests, and what Gaius knows about ‘those’ kinds of relationships. Like, whether or not they can even work.

He wants to kiss Merlin but Merlin tells him he’s drunk and confused. Arthur says he may be one, but he’s certainly not the other. Merlin sends him back to his room anyway.

He lays in bed angry- not because Merlin refused him, but because it was clear he thought he was only making advances because he was drunk and didn’t take him seriously. Arthur vows he will get sober and woo him properly- that will show the gorgeous little twat.

Chapter 8

The next evening the traveling party departs, with the promise that they are always welcome in Camelot. Uther wishes them goodbye as well. Morgana presses a letter into Uther’s hand, and gets into the caravan. She clearly enchants him to stay still and be unable to yell. Arthur and Merlin try to fight laughter.

Later in the halls, Merlin asks if Uther has started on the war path. Arthur assures him it will be fine. Morgana’s letter was very clear, and Arthur smoothed things over as best he could. Now it will just take time for Uther to adjust.

He switches topics to he and Merlin, bringing up their conversation from before. Merlin tries to laugh it off, but Arthur is in no laughing matter and makes clear advances.

Merlin panics and runs, making Arthur think he has made a terrible mistake.

Chapter 9

He wanders the castle, feeling terrible. He never even thought through the possibility that Merlin wouldn’t be interested. He didn’t know how being attracted to men was supposed to work, but if he could do it, couldn’t other men? And even if all men couldn’t, this was Merlin. There was something about the two of them that just felt sort of…inevitable. Arthur wanders into the knights’ barracks, where they’ve set up a sort of clubhouse pub. Arthur often drops by in a ‘we’re all off the clock’ fashion. The men are having an average night of beer and socializing, and Arthur drops in and begs for a drink.

Gwaine takes front position and asks what’s up. Arthur gets a bit drunk and then explains that he made a move on Merlin and messed things up. He’s angry with himself for being an arrogant prat, assuming Merlin would be interested. Gwaine and the boys politely inform Arthur that….well duh! Of course, Merlin wants him! The boy has been in love with Arthur since day one, everyone knows that. They assure Arthur that if Merlin said no, it wasn’t because he didn’t want Arthur- it was because he felt for whatever other reason that he wasn’t allowed.

Arthur knows then what he has to do. He tells the boys that this will go down in history as the worst week of Uther’s life.

Chapter 10

“Are you telling me, that after everything this week. After the closest thing I have to a daughter went gallivanting off with no plan whatsoever, that my only son is in love with his manservant?!”

Arthur explains to Uther that he just wants to know the steps needed in pursuing a relationship with Merlin. They fight a bit and Uther tells him that there really isn’t any precedent for this- if it were a woman he’d be telling him he’s a prince, so as long as he treats the woman with respect he can do as he likes.

“Then let’s treat this the same way.”

“I hardly think this is the same.”

“It is father.” Steely cold gaze. Firm stare. No room for argument.

Uther says he won’t be allowed to be his manservant anymore. And depending on how the relationship progresses certain changes will need to be made- Merlin’s wardrobe, accommodations, title, etc.

Arthur says he understand. He’ll work on finding Merlin a more suitable position- letting him apprentice of Gaius full time or work in the archives.

As he leaves he can hear Uther venting to Ygraine.

Chapter 11

Arthur combs the castle looking for Merlin but can’t find him anywhere. He goes to ask Gaius where he might be. Gaius says he’s gone to talk with an old friend and not to worry. Arthur sits, exhausted from his search. Gaius gently asks if Arthur is quite sure he knows what he’s doing, Arthur assures him that he’s never been surer of anything. He is unfortunately quite in love with the oaf.

Gaius says in that case, he may need to prepare for the possibility that Merlin has a life and secrets of his own that, as his Prince and employer, Arthur knew nothing about. Gaius loves Merlin like a son, and respects Arthur deeply. He would be quite displeased if Arthur got angry with Merlin for not being the simple man he thought he was.

Arthur is very confused by this advice but feels his love for Merlin like a solid thing in his chest, and decides he is not worried.

Chapter 12

That night Merlin returns to Arthur’s bedchamber for his nightly duties, acting flustered. Arthur chides him a bit (out of habit) then switches tactics, sitting him down and explaining that he doesn’t have to worry. He’s spoken to Uther and their relationship won’t be hindered or scandalized. Merlin can stay employed in the castle and continue his work with Gaius. Merlin gets angry at Arthur’s presumption, and that he just decided to go ahead with this without speaking to Merlin. “Did it ever occur to you there might be some other reason? Maybe I find you repulsive- ever think of that?” They go back and forth before Merlin is forced to reveal his sorcery. Arthur is shocked, Merlin makes to storm out, but Arthur tells him to stay.

“All this time…why haven’t you killed me?” Merlin laughs and has to explain to Arthur that magic has nothing to do with evil. “I’ve actually spent most of my time working to save your life. Not for any ounce of credit mind you…”

They go through a short bit about how their destinies are tied together (a dragon told me) and Arthur laughs for the first time- he always suspected as such.

Arthur wants confirmation that Merlin does truly in fact want him (honestly mate, where are your priorities right now?) and they kiss. Arthur assures him that this is one thing they just cannot tell his father. Merlin wholeheartedly agrees.

Chapter 13- A year or so later…

It’s Uther’s Feast day and Morgana has come home for a visit. She travelled with the islanders for a while before splitting off to spend some time in a desert oasis with some shamans. They told her about a mythic library in the East- that’s where she’s headed next.

Merlin is in fact no longer Arthur’s manservant, but head librarian and archivist for a college Arthur founded. On the surface it is meant to fund the arts, but Merlin and Gaius also use it to seek out possible magical practitioners and give them a safe place to study.

At the feast Arthur gets tipsy and Merlin takes him up to bed before he can embarrass himself. They flirt (Arthur complains they don’t see each other enough, Merlin reminds him they have sex and sleep together nearly every night. Arthur says exactly. Merlin rolls his eyes. They talk about the college a bit and Arthur’s own attempts to ease Uther’s zeal for sorcerer killing- Arthur promises to restore magic to its former glory as soon as he is in charge. Merlin tells him his heart is in the right place, but he fears too much damage has been done. Arthur persists in his confidence, stating finally ‘I cannot believe my own husband doesn’t believe in me!” “Am I your husband? Someone forgot to tell me.” “Oh, you will be my husband Merlin- just you wait. And since this is an unavoidable eventuality, I’ve decided I may as well start using the term now. So, you’ll just have to get used to it.” Merlin smiles and agrees, and the two fall asleep.

#patroclesdefensesquad #merthur #fanfic outline

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doeeyeddarlingxo · 4 years

Text

Myriad Misadventures - Chapter 36

The Myriad Misadventures of a Midgardian Queen-In-Training - Chapter 36

AO3 | Previous | Next

Word Count: 1329

Pairing: Loki/Reader

Rating: T

Myriad Misadventures - Chapter 36

“A month away?” Your eyes dart around to meet those of the remaining contestants, before returning to Lady Amara. For confirmation. Because there is no way she actually said what you thought you just heard. “That is...away, away?”

Normally, your modernisms and teen cadence, even faint as they have become over the years, would bring a hint of distaste to Lady Amara’s face. Now, though, she smiles, almost… fondly? “Yes, Lady (Y/N), away away. His Majesty has come to the conclusion that he was ill-advised in disallowing you from leaving the premises, vast as they may be. Balls are excellent practice for socializing in a formal context, but he and I agreed that you would benefit from a chance to practice your royale training outside of the..the…”

“Bubble?” Rosa mutters. You can’t help but snort, in spite of yourself. Lady Amara shoots you both a gently chastising look.

“Protection of the palace. You will be accompanied by guards, of course—”

“Of course.”

This time, the look she gives you is a bit more severe. “However, this will offer you an opportunity to interact with the general public and world leaders, alike.”

There seems to be a general sense of speechlessness among the four of you as the full weight of this news sinks in. You’re leaving the palace. As Lady Amara pointed out, the palace grounds are wicked large, but still, you’re leaving. That being said…

Rhea speaks up, as though she had read your mind. “Where exactly will we be going?”

Lady Amara smiles again. “Home.”

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

You have less than three hours until your transportation leaves for New York, and your suitcase is still empty.

It’s not that you haven’t packed—you did, last night. Six times, to be exact. And every time, without fail, you found yourself dumping the contents of your suitcase back on your bed, on the chaise-lounge, on the ground. Gotta clean that up before I leave, too, or Meg is going to murder me when I get back. Knowing Meg, she probably wouldn’t even mention it, but you’d still feel bad if you left her an entire floor of heavy dresses in need of putting away.

The dresses. They’re part of the problem. You’re expected to pack for several weeks: two at home, one spent visiting the hometowns of the other girls, and one attending various conferences elsewhere around the globe. You’ve grown accustomed to the feel and look of a full corset-and-petticoat getup, but since the announcement was made of your impending departure, you’ve become acutely aware of how out-of-place all of your current clothing would be in your small-ish, very modern, normal town.

Normal. Not that you fit that label, anymore. You pray that you’re wrong, that you’ll be able to slide seamlessly into your former place for two weeks, but you can’t escape what you know in your gut to be true. After two years away, two weeks home seems both heartbreakingly short and impossibly long. You’re going to see Carlie’s growth spurt and new teeth in person, hear Mom and Dad’s voices, see some old friends—the new semester is about to start, but you’re sure you’ll get to at least see Steven after the school day ends. Truth be told, you’re not sure what you’re going to do at home, with your whole family in school (in Erik’s case, away at school) or at work. Lady Amara clearly wants all four of you to practice some diplomacy skills, but there isn’t much conflict in need of resolving in the ultra-suburban landscape of home.

Thinking of suburbia brings you back to the issue at hand: clothes. Should you just wear your least ostentatious clothes, pack nothing, and just raid your old closet when you get home until you have a chance to go shopping for clothes that fit? That seems silly, though. You can’t go with suitcases full of presents and food and no clothes—completely impractical.

And, if you’re being honest, you would almost miss the corset and underskirts.

Almost.

Three taps at the open door. “You do realize it is three in the morning?”

“Shit.” By the time you’ve whirled around, you’re expecting to see him there, but your heart is still pounding from the initial surprise. “Sorry. I’ve been up a while.”

“Clearly.” He nods at the heaps of velvet and lace strewn across your floor. “Any particular reason why you felt the need to eviscerate your wardrobe?”

You sigh. “Sorry.” He isn’t wrong in pointing it out. If anything, you’re grateful for the reminder—at your current pace, you might as well start cleaning up the mess now. You pick up the closest gown, fluff out the skirt, and cross to hang it up to the closet. You notice him following suite, and while half of you is wondering, a bit grumpily, why he can’t just snap his fingers and whoosh them back to your closet in an instant, the other half is relieved. After all, more hands makes the work move more quickly. “Thanks.”

“Of course.”

You work silently for a while, hanging things side-by-side, in your best approximation of the color-coding system Meg seems to use when she cleans. When the task is finally finished, you trudge back into the main room and climb up into your bed, but instead of lying down, you remain perched on the edge, head hanging.

“I cannot tell if you’re simply exhausted, or if you’re truly that reluctant to go home.”

When you don’t answer, he walks over and, with a tilt of his head, seems to ask if he can sit down next to you. You nod, and he does.

“Going home can be difficult, especially after what must feel like a rather long time.”

“Yeah.” You wish you had a less lackluster answer, but the one word feels like all you can muster, in spite of the emotions that are threatening to overflow. You don’t want him to leave, though. The thought of going to sleep, of every second closer you’re getting to your departure time, seems near unbearable.

You voice none of this, but he seems to understand. “Would you like to talk about it?”

“I’m terrified.” It escapes in a whisper, spoken into the dim, candlelit air in front of you, not to him. In your peripheral vision, though, you see that he is looking directly at you.

This is dangerous. Middle-of-the-night conversations are different than talking during the day, different than evening strolls and other quasi-dates, even different than teaming up to defeat a small squadron of murderous, shapeshifting intruders. More intimate. The lack of sleep has left you loose-lipped and overemotional, and there’s no telling what hidden secrets you may spontaneously confess—to Loki or to yourself. Either option is scary.

But he’s here. And he’s listening. And he cares.

On impulse, you spin yourself around and arrange yourself in a cross-legged position, facing him straight on. “I don’t know how to do this. How to go home after so long.” After having them circle your head for hours, it is such a relief to speak the words out loud. “I’m not the same person I was when I left, and I don’t...I just…”

He doesn’t interrupt, he just nods gently, prompting. Encouraging. The gesture, however tiny, gives you the courage you need to say what comes next:

“It feels like there are days where I don’t even recognize the person I used to be. If I don’t even know myself anymore, how is my family going to seem? How will I recognize them?” ” And then, even more quietly, “What if they can’t recognize me?”

“I hardly think your physical appearance has changed that drastically.”

It’s exactly the kind of smart-ass comment you would have expected from him, even this late/early, and it’s exactly the kind of thing you needed to hear. “You know what I mean.”

“I do.”

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

From then until the sun has risen, he never leaves your side.

#loki #loki/reader #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki x reader #doeeyeddarling #myriad misadventures #fish fork

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kates-sweet-escape · 5 years

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[WH] YOURS - The Series: Prologue

pairing: Wonho X Reader (female)

genre: Angst

word count: 1.9k

summary: You made up your mind. You need to leave your old life behind, to save yourself. Even if that means sacrificing your heart and soul.

cover: Made by me. Picture credit to Official Monsta X

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

Prologue | 01 | 02 | 03

Deafening silence.

It swallowed you whole as you were sitting on the edge of your bed. You desperately tried to focus on anything but the stillness. Footsteps. Mumbling. Hell, you’d be even grateful for the sound of people screaming out in agony. Because if you didn’t find something else to focus on but this all-consuming silence you’d lose your goddamn mind. Or break down into tears. And you couldn’t afford either.

You needed to be focused. Ready. And most definitely you needed to be out the door and on the run.

But you couldn’t. Your body didn’t allow you to move. Not even a bloody inch. Instead, you were still sitting there. Right at the very edge of your bed where you’d been sitting for the past thirty minutes.

Motionless. Quiet. And in so much pain that it made you almost unable to breathe.

But you needed to go through with this. You needed to save yourself. Or at least what would be left of you once you went through that damn door. So you took a deep breath. And another one. As if you were doing it for the first time. Slowly. Taking in as much oxygen as you possibly could with each shaky breath. Until you got used to the sharp pain that was ripping your heart into tiny little pieces.

You ran your fingers through your hair and looked towards the white bedroom door. You could hear the muffled voices of the guards who were quietly talking to one another in the hallway. Probably to keep themselves awake in the dead of night while the rest of the estate was fast asleep. You couldn’t make out what they were talking about. Presumably about sports. Maybe even about their significant others. Maybe they were talking about the problems they had or the struggles they went through. Or they were actually talking about when to make the next round to ensure the leading family's safety.

You should be focussing on their words. You should be formulating a plan how you’d be able to get to the great staircase and down into the entrance hall without them wreaking havoc. And this would only be the first of the many more troubles waiting for you. You’d have to get out of the estate and into the garage to get to your car, sneaking past all the guards along your long way from your bedroom and towards your car. You’d have to get out of the garage and down the long road that lead straight to the huge gates that were protecting your childhood home from the rest of the outside world. And all that without being caught.

Which was damn near impossible. But you needed to try.

Because you couldn’t stay here. You couldn’t stay in this place that was slowly but steadily killing any humanity left inside of you. Where organizing illegal cage fights and dealing drugs was as normal as breaking bones or even killing. It was the world you’d been born into as daughter to the leader of what people simply called “The Clan”.

You were the princess. The crown jewel. The blood diamond.

But your older brother Hyunwoo was the new king.

And it started to change him.

When your father had died almost two years ago you’d still hoped that things would change. That the days of excruciating cruelty and pointless bloodshed were finally over. Because your big brother had been a kind soul. Well, at least for the heir of South Korea's biggest syndicate.

Hyunwoo had always preferred diplomacy over brute force. Or so you’d thought. Until he’d killed an innocent witness. Right in front of your eyes. He didn’t even flinch when he’d pulled the trigger, staring the man straight in the eyes before putting a bullet into his head.

That’s when you’d known that you’d have to go. That you had to leave it all behind if you didn’t want to turn into a monster that didn’t care about the countless lives it was ripping apart on its blood trailed way to the top. But you’d put it all off over and over again. Waiting. Hoping. But things had gotten worse over the last four months since Hyunwoo had killed his first victim as the new head of family. And now you couldn’t postpone this any longer.

You let out a deep sigh and turned your glance back towards the bed. Leaving wasn’t easy. Not at all. And there was a simple reason for that. And that reason was soundly asleep right next to you, only inches away from where you were sitting.

Hoseok was lying on his back, right in the middle of the king size bed, his right arm extended towards the side you were usually sleeping on. The sheets underneath were messy and his skin was still slightly glistening with sweat. His silver hair was softly glowing in the dim light of the bedside lamp and his long lashes were casting shadows onto his cheeks. The blanket was covering him up to his hips and his exposed chest was rising and falling with his calm and steady breath. His skin was naturally pale. Almost like the fur of the snow white rabbit you’d had owned as a child. Countless tattoos were decorating his skin, making it look like the canvas of a talented artist who’d immortalized his art beneath Hoseok’s skin.

You still remembered when he’d gotten his first one. The black X right over his heart. His reward for surviving the initiation and a symbol of being part of The Clan.

You’d been an eleven-year-old brat. He’d been a lost and angry fourteen-year-old boy.

Hard to believe that it had been ten years since he’d gotten his first tattoo in your clan’s most trusted tattoo studio. He’d been sitting on the stool right next to Hyunwoo, casually chatting away while the tattoo artist was doing his handy work. You’d held onto your brother’s hand, squeezing it tightly. You’d been completely terrified of the needles scratching your beloved brother’s skin, making him bleed and grunt in pain. Him. Your indestructible brother. And just when you’d thought that you’d burst into tears, bringing shame to the family through turning into a sobbing mess, Hoseok had reassured you with a kind smile on his face, not showing his pain to a terrified little girl that had hated the sounds of the tattoo machine. But over the years you’d gotten used to it, accompanying him to every appointment at the tattoo studio and even getting one or two works of art yourself.

You knew the story to every tattoo and every scar on his body. Which was probably a given considering the fact that you’d been his lover and best friend for the past seven years.

He’d first kissed you on your fourteenth birthday. When you’d asked him for it after heavily crushing on him for years. It had been a short and chaste kiss. A peck really. But that had started it all. After that, the two of you had often snuck out to meet in secret in the pantry of the kitchen. Sometimes you’d talked for hours. Sometimes you hadn't talked at all.

By the time you’d turned sixteen, Hoseok finally had the courage to tell your father about it. That night he’d lost his first fight to Hyunwoo. And you’d lost your virginity to him in your family's nurse’s office after mending his wounds yourself.

A few weeks after your eighteenth birthday, when Hoseok had almost been killed in one of your father's pointless vendettas against another clan, he’d asked you to marry him. And you’d said yes, planning this grand future with him now that your family had finally accepted him as worthy of you.

And now, at age twenty one you were about to leave him. Just two months before your wedding. And while you were still as madly in love with him as you’d been from the day you’d first seen him all those years ago when your father had brought him in, an orphan boy of barely twelve years with no past and no future.

You stretched out your hand and tried to ignore the big diamond on your ring finger that was sparkling in the soft light as you brushed back a strand of Hoseok’s hair.

You loved him. More than you could ever love yourself.

But you couldn’t keep doing this. You had to leave. And you knew that he’d never leave with you. He’d been raised to be your brother’s right-hand man. His loyal attack dog and servant. The Clan was the only family he’d ever known. And you couldn’t take that away from him. Not now. Not ever.

So you had to leave him behind and keep his memory deeply hidden within you. As a secret that you’d take to your grave. And this secret would enable you to keep going. Wherever you might end up. Because your years with him had been the happiest of your life. And that was something nobody could ever take away from you.

Hot tears welled up in your eyes as you leaned down to place a soft kiss on his plush lips. You felt his warmth and the cold metal of his lip ring that was slightly digging into your own sensitive skin. You’d despised that piercing when he’d first gotten it. But strangely enough, you’d grown to love it throughout the many kisses he’d stolen from you over the years.

Now you couldn’t even remember what it had felt like kissing him without feeling the cold piercing pressing against your skin while tasting the faint aroma of metal on your tongue. It was something you’d always remember about him. Just like you’d remember him coldly staring down your enemies with those brown eyes of his that turned soft and warm as soon as the two of you were alone. There were so many things you wouldn’t be able to forget about Hoseok.

Because he was deeply engraved into you. His smell. His voice. His touch. All of him had become a part of you. Completing you in a way you’d never thought possible.

But now you had to rip it all out. Even though it was rooted deeply in your heart. It would leave you broken, bleeding and half dead. But you had to do it. Even though you weren’t sure if you were able to survive it.

You lifted your head and your fingers traced the lines of the tattoo Hoseok had along the side of his neck. He’d gotten it shortly after you’d accepted his proposal. The letters were slightly curved and rather delicate. Not something people would expect to see on a buff and broad-shouldered guy like him.

Yours.

That one simple word made your heart ache and you could almost feel your own matching tattoo burning scars into your flesh. It hurt. More than you could ever make anybody understand.

Because he was yours. And you were his.

Yet, you had to leave him to stay the person he’d fallen in love with. To stay who you really were. And to be true to yourself.

So even though it hurt like hell, you got up from the edge of the bed, walked over towards the door and went through it with nothing more than just a small bag and tons of memories.

You left the ring on the bedside table. With your heart. Your love. And even your name.

And you never looked back.

to be continued...

#monbebenet #monbebe net #wonho #shin hoseok #shin wonho #lee hoseok #monsta x #fanfiction #k-pop fanfiction #yours #yours - the series #katesfanfiction #monsta x scenario #monsta x angst #monsta x fanfiction #wonho fanfiction #wonho scenario #wonho angst

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darryl-jacobson · 5 years

Text

AU of an AU. 5k

Part one of who knows how much more

So Josie and I are doing an AU where L.E is evil and taking over the world. In this AU, Dale is six. I randomly thought what if Dale was older and 12 pages later... Putting it under a cut because it’s quite long.

The person who came to inform Dale that his parent was here and ready for him said it in such an odd way. As if they honestly thought the teenage boy had no idea The Great Representative was here. As if they could truly sneak in without pomp and circumstance. Everyone always knew when they were coming to visit days in advance so everyone had plenty of time to make sure The Great Representative only saw what the school wanted them to see.

Dale thanked the aid, checked his outfit and shoes again, waved goodbye to his friends and without waiting for the aid, started the very familiar walk toward the office set aside for Foreldri when they came to visit.

When he was a kid, these moments were stressful. Foreldri had always seemed like they were waiting for him to screw up and make a massive mistake, suspiciously watching for it to come. They went over everything he did with a fine-tooth comb, searching for any imperfections. But as the years passed and he continued to work as hard as possible to please them, they seemed to relax. A little bit. They still demanded the highest quality in everything he did, but now they didn’t seem worried that he might wreck everything any moment now.

Everyone always asked what it was like having an alien as a parent-especially one that had conquered and now ruled the entire world. He always didn’t know what to say, it was normal for him? If anyone asked a ton of questions, he would just ask them what it was like growing up with humans parents. It wasn’t like he had known anything else. People always thought it was weird or crazy, but it really wasn’t. Maybe if he had actually lived with them, it would have been different.

When Dale arrived outside the office, he knocked twice softly and opened the door when he heard the call for him to come in.

His parent was sitting inside, dressed in an expensive suit that stood out against their blue skin and horns that protruded from the top of their head, a massive stack of papers in front of them. Typical. Being The Great Representative that ruled the earth was a full time job. It wasn’t as if they ever got time off from it.

“Hi Fari.” Dale greeted them, using his childhood endearment for them. It had come from the fact saying Foreldri to them directly sounded so stiff and formal to use all the time. They hadn’t liked it but had agreed that he could call them that as long as it was just the two of them.

“Hello,” They answered standing up to come over and look at him. Their red eyes swept over his appearance, taking in his haircut, how neat and clean his clothes were, the level of shine on his shoes. The usual. All of this was something he expected and always prepared for. It was better to take five minutes doing that instead of listening to a lecture about the importance of personal grooming.

Without waiting for them to ask, Dale launched into a detailed account about what he had been learning about in school, covering each of his classes and what he was studying. While he was sure they got a report from the school about his grades, he knew how important it was for them to hear it first-hand from him. Since they were not part of his day-to-day life, this had to make up for that.

“-and then finally, I have a project due next week, to write an 8 page paper and then create a presentation about one person from history who made a massive impact or achievement during their lifetime.”

Foreldri’s expression gave away nothing of what they were thinking. “Who are you going to pick?”

“I dunno, I haven't decided yet.” He was sure that everyone was sure he would do his presentation about his extremely famous parent, but that seemed too easy and self-serving. Besides, it was what everyone expected him to do.

“I’m pleased you’re continuing to do well in school.” They said, turning to go back to their desk.

Dale tugged at his tie briefly, feeling like the conversation was rapidly coming to a close. “Yeah.” He said. “Do you remember when you taught me how to properly do a tie?”

It was one of his fondest memories with them. He had still been a little boy, nestled in their lap but they had patiently taken the time to make sure he knew how to properly tie it by himself. It stood out to him because they hadn’t seemed hurried or like they had ten thousand other things to do. It had taken him several tries, but he had finally gotten in right in the end and he remembered beaming up at them with joy over his accomplishment.

His parent only flicked their gaze toward him for a moment before returning to their papers. “Of course.”

It was such a small gesture, but Dale couldn’t help but feel disappointment burning in the bottom of his stomach. They spent so much time with their advisors and at work, toiling away at their never ending job. Just for once, he wished they put it all down and spend a few minutes talking to him. Actually talking to him.

He shifted his weight slightly. “Do you have time for a game of chess?” That was something they liked to do. They found it both educational and something of importance. If he was careful, he could stretch it longer then an hour.

To his surprise, they just shook their head. “Not tonight, maybe another time. You should probably get ready for bed.”

“Okay…” He said quietly before turning toward the door. “Good night.”

“Good night,” came the calm reply from behind. A huge part of him desperately hoped they would call him back but he didn’t hear anything else as he shut the door and walked down the hallway in the direction of his room.

His room was the one place where he felt like he didn’t have to put a face for the rest of the school. Everyone knew he was The Great Representative’s heir, that had been impossible for them to hide for so many years. They had tried, in the beginning, but they couldn’t keep making excuses for why they would come to visit him in particular. While the rest of the world had no idea that the alien who now ruled the earth had a human child hidden away at some boarding school in northern Canada, everyone here was aware.

That made it difficult for him sometimes. Dale always had to suspect every single person’s motivations when they tried to get close to him. Did this person truly want to be friends with him, or was there some hidden agenda and secret motivation behind everything they did.

Plus, everyone expected him to act a certain way. He couldn’t act out, do dumb stuff with the other kids his age. A bunch of boys had gotten in trouble for sneaking out at 3 am a few years ago and getting into trouble at the middle of the night. He had known that if he had been part of that group, he would of been judged harsher than the other kids.

Not to mention what Foreldri would of had to say about that. He had endured a lot of lectures about his future public image and their current public image even when he hadn’t been doing anything wrong. He didn’t want to think about what they would of been if he had gone and embarrassed them on purpose.

His room was neat, clean and boring. Very few personal touches. It felt like a transition, something that wasn’t permanent. Just a temporary place for him to sleep, at least until the next phase of his life started.

And what a life it would be. Foreldri still hadn’t announced he was their heir yet, but they had given reassurance that they knew what they were doing. He was 15 years old and still needed to finish school first, to learn strategy and diplomacy and leadership but they were pleased with him.

Or at least he thought so, with as much as they’d let on.

With a huff, Dale kicked off his shoes, removed his tie and sweater and sat down at his desk. With his parent here, there was a chance they would want to see his homework in the morning and he had no plans on disappointing them with mediocre work.

Or, at least, that was a plan until he heard movement and a blue-horned alien popped out of his wardrobe.

For several seconds, Dale was so shocked, he didn’t know what to say. The alien looked expectantly confused as well, as if they expected him to dash over and leap into their arms.

“Fari- what are…” He stood up, trying to understand what they were doing, why they were wearing next to nothing and hiding in his closet. How they had even gotten in here without him knowing, or what all this was about.

“Fari?” They echoed.

Maybe it was the way they were standing, their body language, or how their voice was not the exact same as his parent’s. But as soon as the alien spoke, he knew it wasn’t his Foreldri.

It was the fake impostor.

When he was a child, he had heard stories about this person. A drunk idiot who thought it was a good idea to attempt to steal someone else’s identity. And that had been before Foreldri had become The Great Representative.

He gritted his teeth and thought back on everything Foreldri had taught him. His parent was the real Loki and there had been an impostor, one who clearly was the fake based on how they acted. A drunk, insane, piss-poor excuse of an imitation of themselves and their drunk, crazy wife. The fake Loki, when he was very small, had tried to take him away from his parent and claimed him as their own. As he got older, Foreldri has slowly began to reveal bits of what they had done. The fake Loki and his wife had been dangerous, recklessly putting his life in danger with their immaturity and complete disregard for how vulnerable toddlers were. That was part of the reason why they had hidden him away. To keep him safe from them.

He had seen them before, once, on TV. The entire world had. Foreldri was brilliant, uniting this planet under their competent rule, diligently working to reverse all the stupid and dangerous practices human’s had done to the planet. Until one day, near the end of their conquest, the fake Loki had shown their face and challenged his parent. And just their luck, news stations with cameras had been there to capture the whole thing.

It had been a short but bloody and brutal battle, enough that it had completely destroyed Manhattan, leaving only a crater behind. He had only been around seven years old, none of his teachers had let him or the other young students watch as the two of them fought each other. But he would never forget the relief when it was accounted the fake copy had been killed and his parent was victorious.

He hadn’t forgotten their next visit. It had been their first as the The Great Representative of the entire earth, they had looked tired but proud when he had come running to greet them, listening patiently as he repeated over and over how glad he was that the impostor hadn’t won.

When he was older, he had watched the infamous battle, but only when there was no chance his parent could have caught him. The fake version looked exactly like them. It was shocking to see, watching the footage of the two aliens viciously fighting with magic and ice blades.

Now, Dale just stared at the alien in front of him. Looking at them, he could see for himself. They were exactly as Foreldri had said they were, physically exactly the same. It was when he started to look closer, he could start to see little differences. It wasn’t just their voice, the way this person carried themselves was different. While his parent was calm and collected, they were a live wire of energy just waiting for the right spark.

“… Foreldri said you were dead…” He finally said.

The impostor have the nerve to smirk at him. As if that justified them sneaking into his room and accosting him. “Lesson one, they’re a lying piece of shit and you should probably jot that down. I’m the real Loki.”

“They’re a lying piece of shit?” Dale repeated, staring hard at them. “They told me that you used to fancy yourself as my mother?”

“I am-”

“Then you’re a terrible one! A wreckless, dangerous person who had no regard for anyone but themselves and constantly put me in danger, so much that my real parent had to smuggle me away to save my life?” He asked, his voice rising as anger glittered in his eyes.

“That firelicker was not trying to save your life, they stole you from me.” The fake answered.

Dale only glared at them. “Don’t lie to me, I know the truth. You’re a fake imposter.”

The fake Loki looked shocked. “Fake version?” They repeated. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Dale lifted his chin. “To try and harm me again? And that’s right. My parent is the real one, they destroyed your ass in battle and they’ll do it again.”

“I doubt that.”

He rolled his eyes. “Then we’ll tell them you are here and you’ll see. They are the real one and you are just a poor copy. But either way, you need to leave.” He spat at them, trying to make his feeling of disgust for who they were clear. “I don’t want you here, I’m not going anywhere with you, you’re not my mother or parent, or whatever. Just get out and leave me alone.”

The look of shock and helplessness on their stupid face made him feel better. Not what they expected? Good.

“.... Fine.” They finally said and vanished from sight.

Dale just rolled his eyes. “I’m not stupid.” He announced to the seemingly empty room. “I know that trick, you’re still here.” He pointed at the door. “Get out.”

There was several moments of silence, before the door opened by itself and then shut again.

“I said, Get. Out.”

The fake Loki reappeared, as they had never actually left, but didn’t say anything. A short huff, before they opened the door again and this time actually left.

Dale just shook his head and went back to his homework, anger cooling in the pit of his stomach. Good riddance.

***

The next day, Dale couldn’t get what happened out of his head. Thankfully, it was the middle of the term and he did have that project, it wasn’t due until next week. He was thankful, because his mind kept wandering, especially in the middle of class.

The fake Loki wasn’t dead, they were alive and they were here. He knew that he should probably tell someone, especially Foreldri, but… It was hard to just wrap his mind around at the moment. Even more, they dared to come here and try to talk to him attempted to disrupt his life. They were dangerous.

After afternoon classes, he headed back to his room. There was some free time before dinner, usually he would of spent it with his friends, but he needed to send his parent a message to let them know that he had something to tell them.

At least that was the plan until he heard voices from the hallway. Voices that were Inside his room.

Sweat broke out on the back of his neck as he slowed down, hovering outside the room. They were quiet, but it was two different voices, one familiar, the other unknown.

Dale had meant to stay in the hallway, to listen in, but the door opened immediately and there was the fake Loki. They didn't seem surprised to see him-curse that much better hearing. “Don’t just stand there,” they said, reaching out to grab him and pulled him inside the room.

An older human man that he had never seen before but also who seemed weirdly familiar was inside his room as well. Threads of silver was mixed in his dark hair and he looked very tired. “There you are.” He said, as if the two of them had been waiting for him.

Dale yanked his wrist away from the impostor. “I told you to leave.” He said, his voice growing in volume. “If I scream for help, soldiers and my parent will be here in an instant to help me.” He warned.

The man made a noise like a chuckle deep in his throat. “Kid, you should know that telling Loki to do something isn’t enough to actually get them to do it. And we’re not here to hurt you. We came to see how you are doing.”

That sounded suspicious. Dale eyed him warily. “I’m fine.” He said. “Who are you, why do you care?”

“My name’s Darryl and-”

“Don’t worry about him, he’s fine.” Loki said, speaking over Darryl, which earned them a frustrated glare from the older human. “But that too, also to get you away from the moron in chief.”

“What- No! I’m not going anywhere with you!”

Darryl took a very deep breath, the veins in his neck bulging slightly. “Will you please just let me talk, for five seconds?”

“Five seconds.” Loki agreed.

“Alright,” Darryl made a motion with his hands, trying to contain the conversation before it got too far off track. “The truth about your parent, they don’t love or care about you. They’re like a robot, emotions are not something they can-“

“Time’s up, that was five seconds.” Loki cut in suddenly.

Instant frustration washed over Darryl as he turned toward them. “That isn’t what I meant, and you know it.”

The blue alien only smiled toward Dale, completely ignoring the other human in the room. “You belong with me. Us, whatever, not with that boring idiot.”

Dale could feel his anger bubbling under the surface. “No, I don’t!” He yelled. “I don’t even know you and now you want to come rip me away from the only place and family member I’ve ever had? Just because you want me to go? You haven't even asked what I want, or given me a reason why I should. I don’t know you and I don’t trust you. Because you think that I belong with you doesn’t mean that’s what I’m going to do! They are my family and I’m not going anywhere.”

His outburst seemed to be enough to stop the two of them. They exchanged a glance between turning back to him. “Then what do you want?” the fake Loki asked.

“For you both to leave me with my parent and to never come back.” Dale said.

“Alone with them? Darryl asked.

Dale narrowed his eyes. “You don’t know them.

“Do you?” The alien countered.

Dale flushed. “Yeah, they’re my parent, they love and care about me.” He snapped.

To his surprise, Darryl chuckled. Not in a mean spirited way but like he was actually surprised. “Love and care about you?” He repeated. “Kid, you don’t even know that blue menace. You don’t live with them, they just pop by to come see you every now and then, right?”

“Like you know them.”

Darryl nodded. “Actually yes, in fact. They used to live with me, in my basement. I got to know them pretty well. You know what I learned? They don’t care about much, except themselves and controlling everyone around them. That’s why they ran for president and then decided they wanted to be king of the world, so they could control everything and everyone. That’s what they care about. You just have a part to play in their game, it could of very easily been any other kid. ”

Dale glared at him. “You’re wrong. They’re not like that. This planet was suffering and broken under human rule and they fixed it.”

“Fixed it.” He echoed. “How, what did they do that was so wonderful?”

Dale swallowed. “This planet was broken.”

“Yes, you already said that. How did they fix it?”

The teenager’s mind raced a few moments as it seemed like everything he knew was suddenly gone. “Well.. they united the entire world under one leader. There’s still separate countries but no longer tons of different leaders.”

The blue alien scowled. “Yeah, so?”

“I’m getting there.” Dale almost stamped his foot in frustrating, before realizing how childish that looked and instead crossed his arms. “There’s no more war,” He said. “And humans were ruining the planet and The Great Representative is reversing that.”

“How?”

He blinked. “What?”

“How were they ruining the planet and what is “The Great Representative” doing to reverse it? What is their policies and how is it better then what the human world leaders were doing a decade ago?” Darryl asked.

That Dale didn’t know. While he had heard little bits here and there, he wasn’t too interested in politics, nor did his parent spend a lot of time going over their policy changes with him. All he had heard was they were making change and doing so much better than the previous humans had done, but not that much when it came to specifics.

“Hm.” The man exchanged a look with the fake Loki before he turned back to the teenager. “Are you happy?” Darryl asked, his voice unusually calm.

That question caught Dale off guard, the yes already on his lips but he stopped before he could say it. “I don’t…. of…. That’s not important.”

Loki started to say something, but Darryl threw up his hand quickly to stop them, with so much force that they actually stopped talking. His eyes never left the teenager. “Are you happy?” He repeated.

“Why would you-“

“Are. You. Happy?”

“It’s none of your business-”

“Answer the question, we came to check on you and see how you are doing and your happiness is part of that, now are you happy with this situation?” Darryl pressed.

Dale’s shoulders slumped and he sat down on the bed hard, his gaze far off. “I don’t know.” He admitted.

That admission cost him a lot, as he sometimes wondered if he actually loved his parent and if they loved him back. They were busy, tending this backward mudball of a planet all the time. Their plans for him were large, but the man was right about one thing, sometimes he just felt like a pawn in their long game. He did what he needed to get their attention, good grades, awards, sound bites of praises from his instructors about his skills. But he always wondered if it was enough.

“Even if I wasn’t…” He started to say slowly, hoping his voice had more conviction then he actually felt. “I’m not going with you. I don’t know you, I don’t want to know you and I’m safe here. I’m not going with some fake version of my parent and a human that I don’t know.”

The older man stared back at him. “Alright …”

“You both should leave. I’m sick of your lies. And don’t come back. They’ll be able to smell that you were here.”

The expression that passed over Darryl’s face was a painful mix of frustration, anger and helplessness. “Okay…” He finally said, holding his hands up in defeat. “Just do one thing.”

Dale eyed him with distrust and suspicion. “What?”

“Ask your parent who your real parents are.”

Dale frowned. “Them. Obviously.”

Loki lifted their head. “They didn’t tell you?”

“… Tell me…?”

Darryl cut in. “They’re an alien, not a human. You are a human. So, they are not biologically related to you in anyway. And you did have to come from somewhere.”

A huge smile floated across Loki’s face. “I hope you didn’t think you just popped up one day.” Their smile disappeared when Darryl shoved his elbow into their ribs, hard.

Dale didn’t know what to say and he wanted both of them gone. “Fine, just... go.”

He expected them to put up a larger fight, but the man managed to drag the fake Loki out. As soon as they were gone, Dale sat down and tried to sort through complicated, jumbled mess of feelings he had toward Foreldri that had been brought up.

For as long as he could remembered, he had been saying he loved them. But did he actually? They were never here, never had time for him. Even the scraps he got when they did come was barely anything. They always demanded 110% and it was very hard to please them.

But they were never mean, didn’t yell a lot or beat him. When he did do something good, they had told him that it was a job well done and he should be proud of that. Everything he had, this place here was because of them.

“I am not a pawn in their game, they love and care about me because they are my parent.” He said quietly. It sounded a lot less convincing than it had earlier.

Well, there was one way to solve this and to find out for sure. Without another thought, the teeneger got to his feet and hurried off down the hall toward their office. With a little bit of luck, they would be inside.

His parent looked up when he suddenly barged in, not quite in surprise as they probably had heard him coming, but confusion as they obviously wasn’t expecting him. “Dale…” They said slowly.

“Do you love me?” He blurted out.

They narrowed their eyes. “Yes.”

The teenager wasn’t sure what to say. Expressions of love didn’t come easily from them, but they also didn’t hesitate or sound like they didn’t mean it. He had been expecting them to hem and haw, unsure what to say when pressed under the relevance of their care.

“And what does love mean to you?”

“It means you are my child and I will take care of you.”

He bit his lip. “Who are my parents?”

“I am.”

It was Dale’s turn to narrow his eyes. “I meant my real parents… biological.”

Foreldri just looked at him a moment and then folded their hands neatly. “I don’t know, you were an orphan and in clear danger from my impostor and their idiotic wife. I removed you from the dangerous situation and took you here, to safety.” They stood up. “Why all the questions?”

“I want to know.” He crossed both arms to hide the fact his hands were trembling. “Like if the other Loki is really dead or not?”

That got their attention. His parent stood up quickly. “Where did you hear that from?”

“Are they?” He demanded.

They looked like they were about to say something else when their nostrils flared and they sniffed the air. Automatically, Dale was on guard. One of his earlier memories was being about four years old and called to know why he hasn’t touched a bite of his dinner. When he told them he wasn’t hungry, he learned that his alien parent had a superior sense of smell and could smell the sweets he had eaten hours ago.

When his Foreldri took a step toward him, he instantly retreated back a step. “What?” He asked, his heart starting to hammer against his rib cage.

“Them.” They growled and stormed toward the door. “Stay here, don’t answer the door for anyone.” They instructed before leaving and slamming the door behind them.

Horrified, he ran after them, realizing what had happened. They must have been aware that the other Loki and Darryl were here. “Wait!” He cried and tried to follow them, but the door refused to budge. He wrestled with it for a few moments, but no matter what he did, it wouldn’t open. “Come back!” He yelled and kicked at the door as hard as he could

Frustrated as he realized nothing could get him out of here, Dale turned away. They must have done something to it so he couldn’t get out. Typical. Like he was some kind of stupid child that needed to be locked away for his own safety.

Until his eyes landed on the window across the room. Quickly, he came toward it and opened the window, relieved that he was able to do so. Outside it was raining, the harsh wind blowing cold raindrops into his face. For a moment, he just looked down. This office was on the 4th floor and it was a long drop down.

Until a hand suddenly latched onto his wrist from behind and easily jerked him away from the window. “Don’t!” A voice commanded.

Confused, Dale spun around to find himself looking into deep red eyes. A second glance told him which alien it was. He jerked his wrist away from the other Loki. “I wasn’t going to jump.” He said indignantly. “I’m not stupid.” He paused a moment as he realized they were in the room with him and the door hadn’t opened since his parent had left. “How did you get in here?”

Loki just smiled.

“Where’s Darryl?”

They just shrugged. “Not here but he’s fine.”

Dale frowned, he wasn’t sure what they meant by that, but it wasn’t as if he knew if the older human was or not. “They didn’t tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“Who my real parents are.”

“Ah.” Loki walked toward the desk and sat down, putting their feet up on the desk in a clear show of disrespect for the fact this was The Great Representative’s desk. “That’s where this gets kinda funny. You don’t have biological parents like everyone else does. “They explained.

“But I have to…”

Loki just shook their head. “No, see… You’re a clone of Darryl.”

Dale blinked. “Clone…” He echoed dumbly. “You’re… you’re joking.” He finally sputtered.

“Nope.”

Without another word, Dale sunk to the floor, his mind whirling in circles. A clone, of that other human. But why and how. And did that mean he would look like him when he was older?

Slowly, Loki stood up and came over to him, reached out and starts to run their fingers through his hair gently. The feeling was so comforting, he leaned into and closed his eyes. A few minutes later, they started to rumble softly. When he opened his eyes, he had listed far enough over that he was halfway into their lap and they were purring contentedly.

Twisting, Dale rolled over so he was lying on his back, his head in their lap and was staring up at them. Loki looked back as they continued to groom his hair.

Dale frowned. “Am I really a clone.”

“Yes.”

He still didn’t know what to say about that, his mind jumped to the next topic quickly. “Did I really call you mom?”

“Well…” Loki said. “You actually called me mama, but yes.”

“Why… you’re not… my… mother…”

“And that other blue person is?”

Dale frowned. “Oh…. But…. I mean… why did I start calling you that?”

This got him a shrug from the blue alien. “You didn’t have a mother and you were obsessed with wanting one. You were very attached to me and I asked you if you wanted me to be your parent and you said yes. I said you could pick what you wanted to call me, as I don’t have a gender and you picked mama.” They looked up at the teenage boy. “I loved being your mother. I missed you so much, I’ve been looking endlessly for where that firelicker hid you.”

“They said you were dangerous…”

Loki snorted. “They think almost everyone is dangerous. I wouldn’t of hurt you. I know how fragile humans are, especially human children.”

That stunned Dale. It contracted everything Foreldri had ever told him. And so far, nothing about them seemed wild and crazy.

“Are you really a fake version of them?”

“Of course not, they are a fake version of me. And they’re jealous of everything I had, including you, so they stole you.”

That also made Dale frown. “But… why did you want to be my parent, you didn’t have to.”

“Every child deserves to be loved.” Loki said. “You were a parent-less toddler who desperately wanted someone to love and care for you. Was my wife and I supposed to say no?”

Out of nowhere, his mind flashed back to a line he had read in a book a long time ago. There was no bond like the one between a mother and her children. Or in this case, a mother and their son.

All Dale knew was this is what he had been missing from his life, from his parent was this. Not the fact that they were practically babying him, but that they were paying attention, that they listened and gave the attention and affection he desperately wanted.

“Please don’t leave…” He mumbled.

They smiled. “Of course not.” They said and lovingly ruffled his hair. “Come on, we’re going to get Darryl and get out of this place.”

#AU #Darryl #Loki #L.E #Dale #my writing #ooc

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hailqiqi · 6 years

Text

Skirting Katabasis

AO3 - Chapter One - Chapter Two

Chapter Three: She Forgot it Wasn’t Just About Her

Words: 2,913

Written for the @pidgebigbang!

Shout out to @ibupony for their glorious artwork (spoilers for a later chapter) and @sp4c3-0ddity for their diligent beta-ing (this chapter would have been very different without her).

This fic was not supposed to be this angsty, but I’m proud of how many headcanons I’ve managed to cram in.

Are the read mores working again yet?

“Forgive my interruption, Princess, but did you just say refugees?”

J'aothlians were officially Pidge's least favourite aliens. They ranked even lower than Galra, given that she actively liked more than a few of them.

“Yes, Kztaun, there is some refugee movement between planets in the Coalition,” Allura replied. Her disdain was loud and clear through the bond, but — impressively — there was no trace in her voice. Allura’s diplomatic skills were one of Voltron’s best assets.

Pidge, for her part, was only ever expected to play nice, but she really should be better at diplomacy. The Holts had been in the Garrison for six generations and ranked as Commander or higher for all of them. Charity galas and harsh whispers of ‘Katerina, please don’t embarrass me this time’ were staples of her childhood.

She’d only escaped her junior débutante ball because half her family ‘died’ and it would be ‘too much stress’. Honestly, that was probably the only objectively good thing to come out of the Kerberos mission.

“You see, Princess, we don’t exactly have the room or resources for refugees, though we are of course happy to help in other ways…”

Pidge carefully kept her face neutral, biting back a snort. Her mother would have been proud.

J'aothl had plenty of room for refugees, and refugees would probably be lining up to come here. The city was built of white stone and had wide, clean streets and large squares filled with orderly-but-colourful stalls. A pristine white beach and a crystal-clear ocean bordered it on one side, with vast, mostly uninhabited savannas extending to snow-capped mountains on the other.

They could gift each refugee an acre of land and probably still never see them. Alas, J’aothl was in a heavily occupied quadrant of the Empire and inaccessible by anything other than teludav, a technology which the rest of the Coalition were sorely lacking.

“Actually, the refugee situation is mostly under control. We were hoping that you could help us make inroads into the more established areas of the Empire…”

The J’aothlian ministers — or Kztaun, as they called themselves — discreetly heaved a collective sigh of relief. Pidge felt a wave of anger wash over her. Two-faced, selfish snobs.

The planet had been a part of the Empire for millennia, and over the centuries evolved into a vacation destination for Galra subjects. It was nothing like the impoverished, oppressed planets Voltron usually visited. The only reason J’aothl was considering joining the Coalition at all was because tourist GAC had ground to a halt with all the upheaval. Even the commander in charge of the planet had been redeployed elsewhere, along with his entourage.

The Kztaun Major was obviously hoping that the Coalition could help to plug the gap.

Pidge tried to tune out the discussion as it turned towards intelligence, trade, and treaties. Natural beauty aside, J’aothl was apparently the most medically advanced planet in the universe and the original creators of Altean healing pod technology, which was the main reason Allura and Coran had jumped at the invitation despite the risky location. If they came on board Pidge would end up being briefed separately on the tech side of things, so it didn’t really matter if she paid that much attention now.

Plus, the last time she’d been in a room with people like this she’d gotten herself arrested for assault and banned from the Garrison Social Club. She didn’t quite trust herself to speak.

“...come here, the view across the water is absolutely delightful. After dinner, if you have time…”

Hunk glanced at Pidge nervously while she suppressed a twitch.

“Oh yeah, I’d love to!”

“I’m exceedingly glad to hear that our Justice Kztaun will be able to show you more of our beautiful planet. Now if we could…”

Pidge pushed her annoyance down and battled to tune out the conversation again. She was a Holt. She’d been brought up around people like this, and honestly? This lot had nothing on some of the Garrison wives.

It was probably because she was tired.

That had to be it. Pidge was really proud of the progress she'd been making on The Obol lately — the first half a foot or so was even recognisable as the bottom of the spaceship, a feat she didn't think was possible without Hunk — but progress came at a price, and for Pidge that price was collapsing into bed way past midnight after quick showers to get the grease off.

Facing the the universe's self-proclaimed greatest hosts and 'most evolved civilisation' on roughly two months of averaging four hours’ sleep a night would be difficult for anybody.

“I’m sure your Blue Paladin would make a fine escort.”

Pidge closed her eyes and blocked it out. It was just because she was tired.

Her bad mood had nothing to do with the Justice Kztaun being one of the most beautiful alien women Pidge had ever seen, nor the fact that she had been making eyes at Lance since the Castle had touched down.

Nor the fact that Lance was lapping it up.

Nausea swirled in her belly, and Pidge swallowed. It was ridiculous, but whatever. She wasn’t going to care.

The Kztaun kept batting her eyelashes at him, smiling, flipping her hair over her shoulder (even though it wasn’t even as long as Pidge’s had been!), and directing the conversation towards him for his 'valuable input'. Lance, for his part, was actually being charming — flirting subtly, paying her compliments at all the right times... Since when was he even able to do that?!

He'd barely even glanced at Pidge. Pidge, who'd been stupid enough to think that maybe they were on the verge of something. That maybe he actually liked her back. That liking Lance might not be such a bad thing after all, that maybe, maybe --

Hunk’s warm hand closed around her lower arm gently, cutting that train of thought off before it could show on her face. Pidge wished she could slip her hand into his, squeeze it until she could feel the steady comfort radiating through his warm skin, but that wouldn’t exactly look professional.

Instead, she took a deep breath as quietly as she could and focused on counting the flowers in the vase. Had she seen flowers resembling these at one of those horrible galas before? Maybe if she could place a memory she could remember some snarky comment about how ‘legacy women don’t pilot’ and get angry again.

Anger looked good on a soldier. Bursting into tears at the negotiating table? Not so much.

At least she was meeting Keith later. Apparently the chair and a few smaller pieces had been sold to a collector on the outskirts of the city, so she was meeting him after the dinner tonight. All she had to do was try to ignore stupid Lance and his stupid flirting (with everyone but her, he’d never flirted like that with her) and the concerned gazes that everyone else kept shooting her way...and somehow keep ignoring them all the way through dinner. Oh, and she had to definitely not stage a repeat of the Holt Fundraising Dinner in the process.

Then she would be free to sneak around the city with Keith who, at the very least, wouldn’t judge her if she needed to hit something.

Just six more vargas to go.

Madonna, how did she get into these situations? Here she was in space, millions of light-years away from any known allergens, and yet her eyes were sore, itchy, and watering, her nose was completely blocked, and her chest felt tight.

She glanced at Keith next to her on the sofa, completely unaffected as he sipped his tea, and for a fleeting moment she understood Lance’s jealousy.

Another round of sneezing racked her body with the force of an ion cannon. M'tchkiera tsk'd sympathetically. "I really can't understand how that can be common for your species," she said as she passed Pidge another tissue. "Anyway, as I was saying... Litchvr then had to travel to the Pyralliul Quadrant, which as you know is terribly far from here..."

Just to spite her -- because that seemed to be what the universe was up to today -- another one of those stupid ngl'achra-whatevers (why was every name on this stupid planet impossible to pronounce?! Cats. They were space cats. Done.) climbed over her shoulder from the back of the sofa and jumped onto her lap. She hurriedly pushed the space cat off as gently as possible, but the quiznaking furball still managed to leave a cloud of pastel pink and blue fur in its wake.

And off she went with another round of sneezing.

"Here, dear, have some more tea." A cup of steaming neon pink tea appeared under Pidge's nose when her vision finally cleared. She accepted it gratefully, and, without missing a beat, M'tchkiera (who insisted on being called Mad'ynko for short, because that apparently made complete, logical sense on J’aothl) continued on with her story. "At that point in time his mother had taken up with a woman from the Y'cht'kry District near the Gyrzcha Savanna -- I know you're likely busy with paladin and other duties but if you do get a chance to explore the city, don't waste any time there, it's dreadfully boring..."

Pidge had no idea what the conversation was even about anymore, so she tuned it out and hoped she was humming at the appropriate times. Mad'ynko — the first collector Keith had identified as having parts of The Obol — was an elderly J'aothlian lady who seemingly had a great deal of money and very little to spend it on. She had greeted them kindly, ushered them inside, listened to why they had come, and immediately offered them tea. Honestly, she was the first J'aothlian that Pidge actually sort of liked.

Only sort of, though. So far she had told them the life stories of what seemed like every single person in the district -- along with those of their cousins, childhood best friends, and random farmers’ market buddies — but whenever Keith steered the conversation back to The Obol, she would look at one of her bazillion space cats and say, 'But they would be so sad without their favourite chair!'

Two of said space cats were watching her from the familiar orange chair right now, their fluffy tails swishing slowly as they sprawled out on the seat, mocking her with their eyes.

Pidge refrained from sticking her tongue out and took another sip of tea. The pinnacle of human engineering, and it had been reduced to a cat tree.

She was going to need something stronger than tea.

"So then Harold, Zgniecs bless his soul—" Pidge blinked. Harold? "—was awarded the Medal of Highest Healing, but of course, as his widow, I submitted it to the Museum after his passing, and, as luck would have it, it ended up on the pyre—"

"I'm sorry for your loss," Pidge murmured automatically, feeling completely thrown for a loop. Everything on this stupid planet was completely unpronounceable, yet this woman's husband had been called Harold?

(It was probably short for Glyg'tch'kinzkaria.)

"Oh, Harold?" Mad'ynko waved a hand dismissively. "No need, my dear, no need. I'm well shot of him. Remaining dutiful while the poison worked was troublesome, of course, but—"

Both Pidge and Keith choked on their tea in unison.

Keith recovered first. "Uh," he began, banging his fist against his sternum. "You poisoned your husband?"

Mad'ynko looked at him coolly over the rim of the delicate silver teacup. "Why, yes, dear, of course. He was a philanderer." She took a sip, then smiled at Pidge. "It was by far the best decision I ever made. I've still got some left; shall I give you a vial together with the spaceship parts in case your black-haired beau here decides to stray?"

Pidge spluttered, making herself sneeze again in the process. "We're not together! We're just friends!"

"Oh?"

One perfectly groomed eyebrow was arched high as she looked between the two.

"We're...not like that," Keith confirmed, gripping his tea tightly. "Pidge is more like...like a little sister, than anything."

"Aw, Keith!" Pidge smiled and ducked her head cutely, batting her eyelashes at him, though the effect was probably muted somewhat by the giant clump of snot she could feel dangling from her nose.

Keith rolled his eyes and handed her another tissue, but that was definitely a blush on his cheeks, the sight of which warmed her heart.

Mad'ynko studied them curiously, one pale hand gently stroking the pastel purple space cat in her lap. She waited until the tissue had joined the growing pile of them in the trash can by Pidge’s feet before continuing the conversation.

"Why not? Are you already married to another?” Mad'ynko smiled indulgently, and Pidge was irresistibly reminded of summer nights spent being subjected to her Nonna’s good-natured — but nosey — neighbours. “Forgive me if I'm being presumptuous, but I find it difficult to believe that one as beautiful and accomplished as yourself should be single!"

Yep, Mad'ynko would fit right in with the donna. (Had she mentioned having a son who was single yet…?)

Keith laughed. "She has a boyfriend."

"No, I quiznaking don't," Pidge cut in, mood immediately souring. She took a deep breath and relaxed her grip on the delicate cup before continuing, ignoring the curious look Keith shot her. "I don't have time for a boyfriend, anyway."

"Much better that way, I fear," Mad'ynko answered primly. "Men simply can't help themselves. It's better to be alone than to allow someone to make you feel second-best."

"Tell me about it," Pidge muttered bitterly, downing the rest of her tea in one gulp. Apparently Lance really couldn't help himself. It was like he saw a pretty face and his brain just switched off.

Stupid, stupid, stupid—

Mad'ynko leaned forward to pat Pidge on the arm, nudging the purple space cat off her lap in the process. "Don't you worry, my dear. I'll make sure to add a vial or two to the package."

Pidge stared at her for a moment before bursting into laughter.

Maybe Mad'ynko would be the first J'aothlian she liked, after all.

“Hand it over.”

Pidge wiped the sweat off her brow and blinked. “Hand what over?”

“The poison she gave you,” Keith said with a roll of his eyes. “Hand it over.”

“I’m not gonna use it.” She glared at him when Keith shot her a look over his water packet.

They were standing in the Great Puzzling Hangar at about two in the morning, having just finished cleaning and installing all three chairs onto the now-completed floor (having an extra pair of hands really helped with the heavy lifting).

They’d gotten the chair back to the castle via a hair-raising ride across the city in the cab of one of Mad'ynko’s neighbour’s sons’ hover-vans. For all its ‘great civilisation’, J’aothl apparently had very little in the way of road rules.

(Keith was going to return to Mad'ynko’s with an Altean blanket-cloud for the space cats tomorrow. He had been offered a lift, but Pidge suspected he was going to walk.)

Aside from the chair, Mad'ynko had also purchased a small box of odds-and-ends which now needed to be categorised properly. None of them were the missing thruster engine piece (from what Pidge could see), but one piece definitely looked like a bit of the flight stick…

“Pidge.”

She sighed. “Keith, I am not going to poison Lance. Relax already.”

“I’d rather you didn’t have temptation to hand,” he said evenly, plopping himself on the ground in front of her box.

Pidge steadfastly ignored his gaze and continued sorting through the contents.

“Pidge…”

“Ugh, fine!” She pulled the two little vials from her pocket and threw them at him.

The jerk caught them with ease — how were his reflexes so good? Was it a Galra thing? — and she ducked her head, focusing on the box so she wouldn’t have to look at him. “I don’t have any reason to use them on Lance anyway. It’s not like we were dating.”

“You weren’t? I thought you were spending all your free time together.” Keith’s tone was genuinely surprised.

The words stabbed her straight through the heart, and she tried to hide a wince. She shrugged miserably, knuckles tightening around a titanium exhaust of some sort; apparently she wasn’t the only one who’d been reading things wrong.

“Yeah, well, I guess that meant something different to Lance.”

Keith didn’t reply, and she willed herself to focus on the pieces. For the next few moments they sat in silence, the only noise the slurping of Keith’s straw and the clinking of metal on metal as Pidge grouped like components together.

Keith’s water packet had long been empty by the time he finally spoke.

“Pidge, I...I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

Sudden, burning tears pricked at her eyes, and she furiously blinked them away. “Look… I knew Lance was like that from the start. We all did. I guess… Oh, quiznak, Keith, I don’t know.” Pidge ran her hands through her hair and gazed at the ceiling of the hangar. “Can we talk about something else? Anything else?”

“Sure.” Keith tossed his empty water packet towards the door and got to his feet. “What were you planning on working on next? Is there anything else you want me to move while I’m here?”

–> Chapter Four: She Forgot to Step Outside Her Head

Fun fact: the space cats have glowing red eyes like the fluffy demons they are.

Also fun fact: Everybody on the team pronounces J’aothlian words differently. None of them are right.

#plance #pidge big bang #my writing #keith #pidge #lance #pidgance #flirtyrobot #lidge #pance #I'm sorry for the angst #well I'm not but I am

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mess-enger-mystic · 7 years

Text

RFA in the unknown

Okay I’ll do this scenario now but send some requests, please!

— Mod Apu

Let’s start~

All of the RFA didn’t remember a single thing. Their heads were feeling troubled to remember what happened between all the blurry memories and the dizziness. Soon they realized the cranky sounds the leaves made when they stepped on them, the fresh yet overwhelming smell of the woods (and a lingering scent of apples, maybe) and lastly but not less important, the thickness of the black forest that extended to the horizon.

Where in the world they were?!

Yoosung:

★This little ball of sunshine was the first to notice they were on a forest and that they were lost. ★He would be scared as hell, frightened even by his own shadow. ★He almost faints when he hears about the beast ★And then he finally fainted when he saw that animals could talk and play instruments. ★He would be dying of hunger the whole way ★"Are we near home?“ “No Yoosung it’s the eleventh time you ask in this hour” “Oh” awkward silence “Are we now?” ★Would probably go to cloud city at some point ★And he would sacrifice himself to the beast and let himself become an edelwood tree if necessary… ★He would do anything to protect MC

Zen:

♪At first he’d think he was drunk as hell ♪Then he would realize that no, he wasn’t drunk, in fact this was happening and he couldn’t understand or do nothing ♪He would be very frustrated because he doesn’t understand anything ♪And would probably be OBSESSED with finding his way out ♪But at the same time he wouldn’t let himself lose his sanity ♪He is protective as hell of all of the RFA members especially MC, Yoosung and Jaehee ♪He’d try to open his way with his looks and even acting plays a major role in how the RFA moves around the unknown. His acting usually brings some benefits ♪Hear me out, all the RFA would have to drag him out of the tavern because he practically stole the show ♪He’d have no chill in front of the beast ♪He would never give up

Jaehee

♠She’s the one with common sense ♠"No Luciel you can’t go befriend that wolf" ♠"Mr. Han I believe that trying to buy tickets out of this place isn’t a very good idea" ♠"V, please, trying to talk peacefully with the beast would only be dangerous for you" ♠She would be very concerned with even small details like how much food they have, if a place is safe to sleep or places that could replace a restroom ♠She would definitely get along with Langtree and be very amazed by her idea. ♠The mom™ of the team, she’s very protective of everyone ♠ It’s very hard for her to lose hope and give up… ♠…But not impossible ♠She would probably give up at some point, and if she was in a situation where she couldn’t escape, she would sacrifice himself, as well as if she was in a situation where she couldn’t save someone… She would be hesitant at first, but then there’s nothing else to do, she would go ♠If she gets out of the unknown, it would be an experience she won’t be able to forget ever

Jumin

$ He definitely would try to buy his way out of the unknown $“What do you mean that we can’t buy tickets out of this place?” $“Can we pay the beast to go away?” $At first he would be skeptical about the whole tale of the beast, and edelwood trees, magic, curses and witches… He basically believes it’s bullshit. $Then he would have a close experience with Auntie Whispers and poor Jumin would be really surprised $“Can we pay a with to protect us” $But they escaped Adelaide because of him $He’d be very smart and always has some sort of plan. $Quincy Endicott and him shared tons of advice about running companies. $He wouldn’t hesitate to try to save his friends but if someone dares to touch V expect Jumin going on berserk mode. $Jumin would be a guide, and in desperate times he would be resourceful $Fear is not on his vocabulary

Saeyoung Choi/707

♦This guy would try to be positive about the whole situation at first ♦He was astonished in Pottsfield, he wanted to help and have fun, something that Enoch couldn't deny to him, let's face it, what could you deny to Saeyoung? ♦He took classes with Langtree along with Saeran ♦He and Quincy became good friends and would be very sad to leave Endicott Manor ♦ He'd be able to go to cloud city too ♦But as they are approaching their fates he would decay more and more... ♦To the point where he couldn't care anymore of what would happen to them ♦They were lost souls, wayward souls wandering in the darkness with no light. ♦He would be able to sacrifice himself, but at the very moment he saw one of his friends he would try to save them and blame himself for all if he couldn't. ♦However when he sees Saeran slowly becoming an edelwood tree because he took his place... ♦He eats his fears and faces the beast ♦He would be the only one to put an end to the beast ♦He would kill it with his own hands if necessary ♦Nobody messes up with his friends, let alone his beloved twin ♦U go Saeyoung save them

Saeran Choi

-He’d be kind of apathic at first, trying not to care -But he sensed something... off. Something that was chasing them, some sort of danger. -He could feel it in his bones. -However he was in awe with Pottsfield, definetely his favorite place EVER. -He was the only one to notice Saeyoung’s slowly decay -He’d try to do something to stop it -”Goddamit Saeyoung! You can’t let yourself fall like this. Get your ass up, we’re going out of here” -But it wasn’t working -”Saeyoung you promised to go out for ice cream, are you now breaking your promise? You don’t like ice cream anymore? Not even Dr. Pepper ice cream?” -Still didn’t work -”I’ll trash all your Honey Buddah Chips if you don’t get up!” -And just when he noticed the small branches starting to grown around his twin’s body... he knew. The beast was coming for him, and he wouldn’t let that happen. -”Saeyoung... no matter what, always remember that you’ll be always my only and favorite brother.” -Saeyoung didn’t hear any of this -Just before dawn Saeran woke up, hearing the beast’s horrid requiem -”Chop the wood to light the fire! When the fog of life surrounds you, when you think you’ve lost your way... come with me and join the forest, come with me and join the flame!” the Beast sang. -”I am ready to join the flame, but only if you leave my brother alone” -Then all Saeran could remember was falling asleep in the snow, surrounded by branches.

V/Jihyun Kim

>This man is so concerned with all his friends well-being that he starts putting aside his >He’d try to be rational and for him, it was best diplomacy >He would make agreements with everyone so they can have transport, food or some place to sleep >Don’t tell me he wpuldn’t try to memorize the landscapes of the unknown so he could try to paint them later... or take pictures. >He wouldn’t show it but he was starting to become overwhelmed by the place. >And then, when he saw almost all of them lost hope, he would finally come to a conclusion. >”I have to stay here, so they can go. There’s no other way”. >He also would sacrifice himself in order to keep everyone else safe.

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