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gildedmuse · 4 months

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ZoLaw AUs Nobody Asked For Presents....

Fairy Tale Twist

Part One: Abduction!

[This was inspired by watching the first episode of the anime Heaven Official Blessing with @jhaernyl. However, for the purpose of this ficlette all you need to know is the whole thing is your typical fanfic set up: a bunch of young women are disappearing, so in order to solve the mystery our main male character is forced to go undercover as a shy, virginal bride-to-be in hopes that the sexy bad boy will notice him and carry him off to his liar.]

[You know. The only sensible solution to a rash of kidnappings.]

"Please," the old lady begs, tears running down her face as she falls to her knees in front of the trio. "Even if there is no hope for my Liula, this village can't bear to lose another one of our daughters!"

Zoro scratches behind his ear, apparently unmoved by the old ladies tears, as well as the wet faces of the town folks who have gathered all around. It isn't that he doesn't care - he's sure it's hard to misplace a daughter or whatever, though it does seem to him as if it's at least a little the villager's own fault. Why do they keep sending the girls through the forest is they keep disappearing?

"So they're always taken in the forest?" Saga - Zoro's second best friend and training partner - always knows exactly the right questions to ask. He's just good at that kind of detective thing, the way Marines pretend to be. As a crew of bounty hunters, they may not be the most well known or most feared (they certainly aren't their richest) but between him, Kuina, and Saga, Zoro figures they have all the right talents to work their way up to the top, wherever that might be.

For Saga, Zoro is sure that eventually means becoming a marine or, as his overly dramatic friend would put it, "becoming a sword for justice!" Or that's what he says it if you get enough sake in him, though honestly it doesn't even take one drink to notice the look he gets in his eyes whenever a bunch of men in their clean white uniforms go marching pass. Not even Kuina's mocking their stupid insignia ("why do you want a shirt with a pair of boobs drawn on. I've got the real thing and they're nothing but annoying!" / "For the last time, the insignia is the mighy gull! Not a pair of blue boobies!" / "As someone who has seen plenty of both, trust me, no seagull looks like that..not unless it's had some major work done.") or Zoro pointing out he's never seen a single marine carrying a shuangshou jian, which he thinks is the far better argument. After all, Saga wouldn't want to have to get rid of his beloved sword, would be? It's the one thing he has from his parents....

If there is one person who would understand how important a sword can be, it would be Kuina, but he thought Saga would be next.

"Sounds like instead of worrying about your bridal traditions, you should have worked to make sure these girls could protect themselves," Kuina says, her voice low and steady, but there is an undercurrent of anger there. One Zoro finds adults often miss, due to Kuina's former, almost old fashioned, language and proper samurai etiquette.

Her father always said there was more to being a Kenshi than just holding a sword. Unfortunately, one of the things he believes makes for a Kenshi is....

Kuina stands up, bowing politely to the very same adults she'd just been so angry at. "We will find this pirate who is taking your lost daughters and ensure this does not happen again," she promises, and Kuina promises something it's like you can see the threads binding her, holding her to her word. It makes Zoro sit up straighter, happy to be her rival. "If what these girls want is to be married, they deserve to make that choice without some creep ruining it for them."

Kuina's small, and because of that, most everyone underestimates her. Only to be surprised when the girl they had just been laughing at is suddenly behind them, the sharp white blade of Wado Ichimonji pressed against their kidney, with Tenno Megumi clashing against their own steel, stopping them from being able to make a move. She's a fast, technical fighter and a slow, methodical thinker. She probably knows more about Zoro and Saga then the two boys know about themselves and, honestly, Zoro is alright with that. He doesn't even know where he'd keep all that knowledge, but Kuina seems to do a good

They had only come to this island to pick up some Nobody, Kuro of 1000 Cats or something stupid like that, but they had barely dragged him and his crew of losers to the local Marine base when an older woman, face wrinkled and worn from sadness, had grabbed a hold of Zoro's arm.

These people were desperate, and the small four man marine outpost they have seemed unable ("or unwilling," Kuina had muttered only once Saga was distracted - they didn't need to have that fight again) to help against what seemed to be some knd of curse.

"Qell it's not a curse," Saga decided immediately, the three of them gathering just outside of the town hall were the citizen had plead their case. And as much as Zoro hates being distracted from his goal, his one true dream, he has to admit their pleas were.... heartfelt.

"Hmm," Kuina puts her hand to her chin, her foot digging into her dirt as she stares down, her brain trying to ferment a plan of some kind. At the very least a place to begin. "It seems he only comes out when there is a bridal procession. What should we do?"

There is silence as they all contemplate this impossible task.

"I know!" It's Saga who gets a these first, slapping his fist in his hand, and with his eyes burning so bright, Kuina and Zoro are immediately doubtful. This is going to be one of those ridiculous plans like in all his marine centered manga. As far as Zoro has seen, Marines never actually do any sort of undercover work or whatever. They just stupidly fire bullets at things and hope one hits. But that's not how Saga sees them, not at all.

Saga gives a sharp, proud smile, his support of his own plan entirely unwavering. Zoro assumed they would just stare at him until sanity sunk back in but suddenly, he notices Kuina going all stiff, as if a realization had just hit.

"Not it!"

Zoro stumbles some, not used to the usually calm depth that is his number one rival and best friend moving with such a reckless, her arm flying up as of theyre back at the dojo answering questions. "Hey!" He pushes his shoulder back against her. "What are you-"

"Good point!" Saga says, his intensity still bur ing as usual. "I am also not it."

Zoro looks between his two friends. His two companions. His twisted sworn brother and sister. And the evil grins that were creeping up along their faces.

"I am NOT-"

Kuina leans in so hard, Zoro ends up squashed up against Saga. "Your mouth says no," the older girl teases, sluttering her eyelashes in a way that Zoro didn't understan. Was that supposed to make him do something? "But your eyes - and my blades," she adds that bit with a pat at the swords at her side. "Say yes."

At his other side, Saga gives him an unnaturally bright smile despite the narrowed eyes glare Zoro is giving both kenshi. "You really should try and look happier. It's your wedding day after all!" He teased, nd Zoro can only grumble.

He did call not it last, damnit.

"We will just have to set up a convincing bridal procession then!" Saga pulls back, striking what Zoro feels is an all too excited pose considering the fate they've just sealed for him. "Kuina and I will act as guards, while Zoro gakes place of the bride to be. We'll put the whole thing together and make it look just like a real bridal procession! That's how we will draw this scoundrel out!"

The two npeople only seem mildly confused by the bounty hunter's plan. Zoro isn't sure what the confusion is aboit. He's hardly looking forward to this mess, but he does think Saga and Kuina did an excellent job at setting the trap and as for his part, well, he can only hide one of his three swords under the bridal gown, but with the other two concealed in the carriage in easy reach, he doesn't imagine he'll habe any difficulty grabbing for them in time. The whole plan is actually one of their better thought out schemes, so he isn't sure why the villagers take moment to get on board, but eventually they do. They even lend them materials to help make the ruse undetectable.

"I've got this!" Kuina declares in reference to the dress. She isn't much for fu-fu clothes herself - it's all so much fabric for so little practical coverage, and it always has at least one part that hangs in the weirdest way. However, she's had years of practice learning to make men's clothes for her properly so they aren't baggy and in her way and also wouldn't.... disrespect her father (Zoro knows she would never wish to voice this, but he has also seen her on holy days with his image. Holding it as tight as if he were a long honored ancestor. Looking to the stars as if they would grant her his approval.) Plus, she definitely knew what looked good on girls. Just because she doesn't wear fancy kimono and jewelry and other useless pretty things doesn't mean Kuina can't APPRECIATE what other women look like in such elaborate get ups.

It's the make up where they run into something of an issue.

"Katatsumuri," Saga asks, holding out their den den mushi. Him and the snail wince together as Kuina gets angry enough to break the brush shed be using to try and apply Zoro's lipstick, yelling that it was a subpar tool unworthy of its title and a shame to whoever forged its.... it's.... it's stupid hairs or whatever! Grr!

"Can you play a make up tutorial," Saga requests, sitting cross legged in front of Zoro. Luckily, he is very good at copying moves even from videos. Maybe this is why he appreciates marine uniforms so much, Zor thinks, cause they're all neat and orderly and it feels like you have to keep your make up neat and orderly as well.

So with Zoro looking appropriately alluring ("You're a vision," Saga promises, his breathing just a little too rushed considering they haven't even started on the hard part of the quest just yet. "You almost look decent," Kuina laughs, making sure Katatsumuri takes a picture for future reference) they gather everything else they will need for their little nightie deceit. The procession, the carriage, the spooky nighttime forest that the temple lies in the middle of for some reason no one could adequately explained.

"just sit tight," Kuina whispers from the side of her mouth as they walk deeper and deeper into the darkness. "I'm sure this willl-"

"Kuina!?" Zoro knows he is supposed to be sitting there straight and well behaved, just the way he's practiced with that overly nice girl - the one who kept getting a little bit touchy, like Zoro couldn't figure out how to hold his hands just by LOOKING at her; there is no reason to touch - but at his friend's sudden silence he couldn't help but peak out of the carriage window.

Nothing but wind and leaves and darkness.

"Zoro," Saga growls from the other wise..Zoro turns to try and ask him to go check on Kuina. That's what he should do, rather than break character. Good call. "Keep on guar-"

Silence.

Suddenly there is nothing.. No horses. No Marines pretending to be maid in waiting. No guards. No friends. Just darkness, and a low, soft whisper of the wind. Something dark, something.... stirring.

Zoro licks his lips, that awful taste of the lipstick coming off with it. He reaches for the trap door where his two other swords are stored when -

Click.

The door opens a light storm: the fall of rain, wind sweeping through the trees, dark hair, striking eyes, and such long and slender fingers reaching out for him, not grabbing, but making an offering. Holding his hand out for the supposedly young and virginal bride.

And suddenly Zoro can feel it in his chest. This lightness. This heat.

He fumbles, trying to find the damn torch. Where were his matches? Why is he going for the stupid candle and not his swords? What is wrong with him?

"I can't help but notice," the strange is silhouettes in the darkness, out the moonlight behind him offering any glimpse. But that voice. So dark, like a shadow. Like the way a smooth sake feels sliding down your throat. "You seemed to be in trouble, my little lamb. I hope those ruffians didn't cause you any harm."

As if you didn't send those ruffians, only Zoro's voice is entirely gone. The boy's golden eyes pierce through him like an arrow. Where is his voice? It seems the only part of him that can speak is his heart, and that is beating so loud it filled the entirety of the carriage

It only gets louder when the stranger's lips quirk upward, the water running down his hair, his pale skin, sliding around his lips. Making them shimmer and shine in the low candle light. "What a remarkable beauty. How could anyone wish to hurt such an angel?" His hand is still hanging there, half way between them. Zoro licks his lip subconsciously, the water clinging to the stranger's lower lip making him want....

No! He's meant to focus! He is here on a mission, not some silly game.

Yet the way the stranger smiles does leave his stomach feeling all sorts of silly. Are those his finger tips shaking as he reaches out, gently entrusting his hand to the stranger.

Immediately he is being pulled forward, so close it Zoro can't keep the gasp escaping his lips. He's not used to these shoes, there's far too much of them for starters, and the heels catches on the fabric of his dress and-

As he falls foward, the stranger moves in close and through the low light of the moon and a single candle, those gorgeous golden eyes stare right into Zoro's soul, soft and yet certain as he reaches out, easily pulling Zoro into his arms.

Pressed against the man's chest, Zoro understands why so many of those manga he finds Saga hiding away have girls pressed up to marines just like this. The way his heart beats in Zoro's ear, the protective warmth of his arms....

"Where did-"

"You men seem to have run off," The stranger says, holding him close. The hold is gentle and yet formal, as of purposefully being polite and careful with him. "I believe they were trying to lure the attackers away."

He knows that hadn't been the plan, but he can only stare up at the stranger, his cheeks so warm he thinks of lifting the veil, just to get some fresh air. But surely if he saw him that would give them game away.

"Your physical beauty must only be surpassed by that of your heart, to have such a loyal and fearless guard. I would hate to see their bravery go to waste. I don't have much, certainly not lodging worthy of such a precious gem, but there is a small temple nearby that will offer us shealter. I can keep you safe until your entourage regroups. That is, if you will allow it."

His golden eyes are staring down at our hero, soft and intense all at once, and they leave his tongue feeling equally confused: heavy and light at the same time.

"You have my permission to do with me as you please." Zoro hadn't practiced any sort of script, the plan had been to attack and words had seemed unnecessary. He still isn't sure where such a sentiment even came from! What a silly thing to say! He must look like a gu-

Wait, that isn't the what Zoro is supposed to be concerned about. Why does he even care if he looks like a fool!?

Even as he tries to hide himself against the stranger's chest, he catches a glimpse of that smirk. That horribly cocky, confident turn of his lips that leaves the poor kenshi melting, all the heat not coloring in his face pooling much, much lower.

"I shall take you with me then, beauty-ya, and act as your guide until we can reunite you with your proper assembly."

"Mmm," Zoro mutters, voice high and breathless. Perhaps to ensure the act is believable? "Take me with you, unite with me, yes..."

Just an act, that's all. Right, that's why he's doing this. To go along with the plan.

That's why he puts up no struggle as he suddenly finds himself lifted up into the strangers arms. The man's hat keeps his face mostly hidden, but Zoro is sure to memorize the edges of his cheeks, his lips and chin where rivlets of water drip from his dark skin. The beautiful dark ink that covers the strong arms that have Zoro safely held against his chest.

All for the sake of the mission, Zoro reminds himself, leaning his cheek against the stranger's wet shirt, tucking in closer to his warmth as a blue light suddenly involves the both of them.

"Shambles."

And then the forest is quiet, nothing but an abandoned carriage left behind.

#the bounty hunting trio we deserve #shimotsuki kuina #wants to be the world's greeatest swordsman and also a great ppirate of the seas because screw samurai #if women can't be samurai then she will leave the dojo and become something better #Saga One Piece #he has a bit of a marine kink #IT'S NOT A KINK TO CELEBRATE THE BRAVERY OF THE MARINES #no but it is when you want your girlfriend to dress up like one #roronoa zoro #who only knows he wants to be the world's greatest swordsmen #one piece #trafalgar d. water law #trafalgar law #zolaw #I promise Law isn't just out here kidnapping helpless girls #okay he is but it's not as bad as it sounds - the townspeople left out some important information #not that hes helping - he's a pirate; pirates don't help people #however spoiler alert his little sister isn't a piarte and Lami has a lot of pull over her brother's heartstrings #though she's about to have some major competition #Corazon also lives #one piece au #one piece fanfic #I know no one asked for this but its the first real fic I've really written in a long time so it's what you get #the zolaw au nobody asked for #fairy tale twist #part one #law x zoro #later kuina x lami BECAUSE I CAN #all the girls live #my writings

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khepiari · 2 years

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One Piece Is Always The Funniest! [SPOILERS CH 1058!]

Boy did I give Buggy-sama more credit in my previous theory? Slightly. But I was correct about certain things! Lamo! I can’t stop laughing about Sir Crocodile and Dracule Mihawk bullying my Buggy-sama!

Now lets come to bounties! I love it! I love it! It is hilarious how Luffy was reintroduced as Emperor of The Sea! He is truly a menace to his own crew! The greatest life threat to Strawhat Pirates is Strawhat Luffy himself!

Now let’s come to money loving queen! At this point I won’t be surprised if Nami cooks up a scheme to collect her own bounty from the marines! I repeat we can’t trust her! The bounty is too huge for her to think straight!

Usopp’s father is gonna be so proud and more scared to meet him now! Yasopp’s son is a GOD now! I love it, we have an unaware god caged up by his quartermaster and we have another god in denial about his godhood! They are idiots and I love it!

Chopper’s bounty shot up! It is a massive hike! Come on Odachii you finally are recognising his potential! Tony-Tony Chopper is a thousand berri bounty wanted pirate! And he is angy! Baby is so angy!

For Franky I have no sympathies! Serves you right for constantly changing hairstyles and tricking Marines! It has come to bite you back! Sometimes there is a mohawk, other times a buzzcut! It was time you got a taste of your own medicine! And look at Sunny-go the happiest Ship ever and only Ship to get his own bounty! Sunny-go deserves the best!

But it also makes me question why take create an bounty image of Sunny? Is WG thinking Sunny is Pulton already?

Brook is our hello cool grandpa long legs! You deserve more digits, stupid marines can’t understand your potentials! The infinte possibilities that your old bones possess is a mystery even Robin will have heard time to follow and uncover!

Sooooorry not sorry powerscalers! But guys, but this is the new monster trio now! Luffy is now on his own tier!

My man Sanji never ever gonna live down this humiliation! It is fine he has humiliation and praise kink anyway! And I really expected Jimbei to get more bounty than these two idiots! But we know world government’s intel is shit! It is just funny to watch them be so goofy!

NOW LET’s TALK ABOUT ROBIN!

She looks so happy! So happy! We must protect her! Look at her! She is radiating with such joy! This is a woman who wanted to kill herself two years back, now look at her! She is inching towards her dream, step by step she has learned so much about the world all because she chose to live and trust her crew and now she is loved and surrounded by people who will go to the deepest depths of hell to protect her! And look at her showering affection! If Cipher Pol O comes to hurt her! I will take up arms to protect my Queen!

Robin deserves everything under the sun! The fun, the laughter, the best food, the best sleep, the best jokes, the best hugs, and the tooth rooting love from her crew! My Robin has truly blossomed like a flower after joining the crew of dumbasses!

And I was right about Dracule Mihawk being so bored that he kept hunting down pirates! Because he was made a Warlord to stop him from hunting down marines! Navy Hunter Dracule Mihawk! No wonder he was only fighting behalf of Marines in War of The Best/Paramount War until Shanks wasn’t there! He was doing the bare minimum job of a warlord and had absolutely no interest to be tool of the marines!

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mandospace · 3 years

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Sweet (Din Djarin x GN!Reader)

Request: Could you write something for din like din and reader walking around a market when the reader eyes something they like and mando is a sweetie and buys it? It would be so cute 🥺

Requested By: @simp-clown

Word Count: 895

Warnings: None

A/N: I hope you all enjoy :)

MASTERLIST

The village market was crowded with people shuffling from booth to booth, looking for goods and wares. The sun was hot and high in the sky — midday already. The kid was squirming in your grasp as he tried to take in all the sights. Din was walking beside you, his hand protectively splayed on your lower back while he guided you through the crowd.

Your trio stopped at each stand, making sure to restock on all of the items that needed replenished. Din was about to leave for a two-week long hunt and he wanted to make sure that you and the kid had enough food.

“Sorry kid, I don’t think we can afford that this time,” you pulled the little trinket from his tiny claws and put it back on the table. “This time it’s only food.”

“He should be able to get it,” Din grumbled while the two of you moved to the next booth that was selling sweets. “He should be able to get whatever he wants.”

“You spoil him,” you playfully teased, looking over the various candies and sweets.

“Not as much as he deserves,” Din picked up a bag of candies, looking at their bright colors before putting them down.

Your eyes scanned the table before landing on a fluffy looking pastry drizzled with chocolate. “I haven’t seen these since leaving home!” Picking it up, you brought it to your nose and breathed in the delicious aroma. “How much?”

The shopkeeper answered and you could practically feel yourself deflating at the price. “Oh, we don’t have enough for that, and we still need to get some other things.”

Din’s heart broke watching you put back the pastry. He wanted so desperately to not only provide for you and the child, but to also shower you with presents and things you want. “You can get it, Cyare. I have some other credits stashed away.”

Before he even finished his sentence you were shaking your head. “Don’t be ridiculous, it’s just a pastry.”

“Let me buy it for you.”

“Mando, really, it’s okay,” you looked up at him and placed a hand on his chest. “Besides, we need to get a few other things before we leave.”

He didn’t want to agree, but let you pull him along anyways.

———

Thank the Maker this hunt was over.

Din was tired and dirty and irritated. The bounty trudged behind him, binders clasped around his wrists. He finally understood why this bounty paid so much — the guy was annoying as hell.

“Please, I can pay you double what they’re paying!” the bounty pleaded. “I have three thousand Imperial credits on me that can be yours!”

“Imperial credits?” Din was rolling his eyes under his helmet. “That’s not even worth an eighth of what I’d get for you. Now stop talking.”

The two of them finally entered the town limits and Din was almost relieved to see the dingy cantina where he was turning in the bounty. At least he didn’t have to waste carbonite fuel freezing him.

Din was glad that the hunt was officially over once he handed over the bounty and received his payment. He was dying to get back to you and the kid — two weeks is too long.

He decided to cut through town to save time and was glad he decided to when he saw that the shopkeepers in the market were opening their booths for the day. He saw the small trinket the kid wanted and bought it for him, happy that the person who placed the bounty paid him more than expected due to his speedy recovery.

When he passed the vendor that was selling the sweets, Din stopped and asked the owner if she had any of those pastries you wanted the other day. When she produced a plate, fresh from the oven, he happily handed over enough money for three.

Thankfully the walk back to the Crest was short enough that the pastries were still warm. As soon as the ramp door closed, he took his helmet off and set it down. “Cyare! I’m home!”

You climbed down the stairs that led to the cockpit with the kid in your arms, and as soon as you looked at him your face lit up like a supernova. Din held out his arms and you stepped into them, wrapping your free arm around his waist. He gripped you tight and kissed your head before placing one on his son’s.

“We missed you,” you tilted your head back and asked for a kiss, happy that Din obliged. “How was the hunt?”

“It was good, and I even got paid more than I expected,” he reached for the trinket and pastries he bought. “I got the kid the toy he wanted and you that pastry you saw the other day.”

He presented the bag and your eyes lit up. “Din, you shouldn’t have!” You pulled out a pastry and held it up to your face, inhaling the sweet scent before taking a bite. “It tastes better than I remembered,” you moaned. “Thank you, Din.”

“Of course,” he smiled and reached towards your face, thumb swiping away the stray bit of chocolate that was smeared at the corner of your mouth before bringing it to his own so he could lick the sweetness away. “Anything for you.”

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fictionallyinparadise · 2 years

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Aperture, Magnitude, Occultation, & Parallax for any of your f/os ~ rebeccaselfships

@rebeccaselfships thanks for the ask!!!! I'll be answering these with Izold...and Mirael and Fawkes bc,,,aaaa yearning for multiple f/os from a silly little mobile game >:)

Aperture: Has your perception of your FO changed as time went on? In what way?

Izold: Hmm. He's semi recent, but I'd say it went from "hee hee big man big scary man" to like..."oh my god his backstory 😭" yaknow?

Mireal: I haven't had any change with her tbh! It's more of understanding the original perception I had of her!!

Fawkes: I thought his powers came from actual magic and not a parasite thingie? That's it tbh!

Magnitude: What is one thing they have learned from you? Could be a skill, a topic you know a lot about, etc. What about vice versa?

Izold: Oh!!! Oh!!! I teach him nature stuff!! Like, hiking, fishing, etc etc!!! Yeaahhh!!! He taught me like...not how to fight but about war stuff? Does that make sense-

Mirael and Fawkes: Hmm. I think we teach each other tips and tricks about bounty hunting...! Just like, helping each other with jobs and shit since we're all bounty hunters!

Occultation: How quickly did you come to trust your FO? How quickly did they trust you? Were there many barriers that needed working through, or was it easy to get to know each other?

Izold: We both took lots of time to trust each other. It's like,,,our whole story 🥺. Meeting up out of curiosity and slowly getting close and becoming friends and more!!

Mirael and Fawkes: There was already a build of trust since we're a trio (well. Technically four bc of Raine) of bounty hunters. But like the more time we spent together the more we trusted and started to work through boundries.

Parallax: Did your FO deserve better?

Izold: YES. He deserves so much better he deserves the world oh my god 😭

Mirael: I kinda wish she wasn't like,,,kinda sorta s//xualized? Other than that,,,

Fawkes: Y e s. This poor man,,,fuck 😭

#🌿; meet me at our spot #🥀; we're wretched but celebrated #self ship ask meme #self ship asks #self ship ask game #self ship ask answered

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selfilluminatingkyu · 3 years

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Dancing with the Devil(s): Chapter III

Previous|Current|Next

You don’t go searching for bones in a Lion’s Den. You just hope you don’t become a part of the pile.

F!Reader x Adult Trio; this takes place during the same timeline as Season 3 of HxH but the events with Kuropika and the crew are just shifted a little. Things will align back up within the next couple of chapters.

Warnings: Swearing; mentions of conditioning of a child (reader);

Word Count: 4.8K

After…whatever it was that had taken place with the members of the Troupe, Chrollo had placed you back into his study as he gave further instructions to the rest of the team, who you had been introduced to formally. You would have liked to say that the introduction had cooled your nerves a bit but that would have been a lie. If anything, it made you more anxious. The more you knew, the more susceptible you were to be considered a “loose end” and the likelihood of your impending death became that much more stark to you. Should you prove to be of no use to Chrollo or the rest of the Spiders, as you learned they were frequently called, your time would be clicking down on a timer.

You still weren’t entirely sure what had happened and what you had done that had proven to be so amazing that had the lot in such a tizzy. You’d spent at least an hour playing a continuous game of “hide and seek” as Nobunaga had dubbed it. Although, you weren’t entirely sure who was exactly supposed to be hiding, seeing you felt their presences the entire time. The only time you had been a little unsure was towards the end. Hisoka’s presence had wavered momentarily, as if he’d suddenly disappeared, but you’d taken in a deep breath and focused yourself only for him to pop back up again, like an object on a radar. Chrollo’s had also been faint at one moment towards the end but his aura had never truly gone away, not that you thought it was possible anyway. Not with how dark and menacing his was.

“I’m sorry for the delay, but it seems that there’s a new bounty on our heads and we didn’t collect all of the items for auction. There’s also some other matters to attend to.” You looked over your shoulder to Chrollo as he stepped back into the room. The information made you pause…you were certain that everything had been accounted for, for the first round.

His hair was messy in comparison to the slicked back style it had been earlier, and you mused that it made him look even younger and it suited him more. Looking at him you wondered how many people he’d disarmed and made comfortable with his looks and charm. In another life, he had to have been the eldest son to a very, very wealthy and powerful man.

Making a noise of agreement, you turned to look back outside. It was getting dark now. The brightest stars starting to pop up in the purple and pink hazed sky. It reminded you of all of the times you and your family went to the country side, away from the city and the light pollution, where you could look at the stars till your heart was content. More than once, you’d fallen asleep outside, wondering what other worlds were out there, what sort of people there were…if any of them ever felt like you did or were raised like you. In your head, there were other girls like you, who’d been raised the same and by some chance, you all ended up together, united and made sure it could never happen to another soul.

You were people, not property.

But that was a fantasy and this was reality and in this reality, you didn’t know when your time was up and so you’d decided that you would do whatever was necessary to be reunited with those you’d lost. You’d see your siblings again. You’d save them for your parents. You’d give them a better life, and all the unconditional love they deserved. No fear of being sold to the highest bidder in an effort for your parents to obtain something that was unlikely to act quench their thirst for more power, more money, just more.

“I don’t believe I ever actually asked you name…or how exactly it was you came to be among the items set for auction.” You jumped, so lost in thought that you hadn’t even register Chrollo. It wasn’t his voice that startled you, but the proximity of his mouth to your ear. He stood behind you, towering over you and making you feel smaller than you already did in his shadow.

“No, you didn’t. Not that anyone else did, to be frank. But it’s y/n. And I believe I briefly told you earlier how I came to be there. I’m the eldest of four and since a young age, my parents have always been complimented on how beautiful I was. I’m pretty sure from the moment I was born, they were told that they’d been blessed with a precious gem. They took it a little too seriously and decided that what other purpose was there for a gem than to buy them a bigger one? So…my parents figured to obtain more wealth, more power, more notoriety, they’d marry me off to the man or family that checked all of those boxes the most. So, they groomed me to be the perfect wife for a man of that caliber. I got all of the etiquette classes a lady of that birth ranking would get, along with ones that would place me outside of the pack. I had tutors for all of my studies and learned several languages. I was put under pressure and polished to perfection.

“At one point they were in discussions with a family, I was going to be married to their eldest son. I never met him, but I snuck into my father’s office one night and saw a photo of him and his family. While he seemed handsome enough, there was something peculiar about him that had me anxious before I’d even met him. But, while they had the money and power and notoriety…it wasn’t in the form my parents wanted. They wanted to be among those in high society, in the light where people on the street would whisper about them…not among the shadows like that family apparently was. So, my parents started again, except…no one was meeting their standards and the original family seemed to be the best offer they had…till there was someone else. I don’t know how the Don who bought me had heard of me, or how one of the others had, but he did and he was certain that he could tick all of the boxes my parents were trying to fill. So, they made a deal and suddenly I was being brought here to the auction.

“I was in a different room originally, by myself, in a suite. But the Don’s right hand man who’d been watching me prior to the auction came in flustered, talking about something going on and they moved me…which is where I was when…whatever sucked me and the rest of the items into a void happened and then I was backstage where the rest of the Troupe found me. And that’s it.” You turn to look at him and find that the look on his face has you turning around completely.

The man looks a mixture of furious rage and melancholy heartbreak…and it has you absolutely stumped as to why a man who has killed for sheer joy and amusement—as you’d realized after hearing their names and remembering the scarlet eyes—would look so pained over the story of a young woman being sold as a wife. It didn’t align with the character chart you had started creating in your head for him. No, it was just as peculiar as Hisoka looking concerned when Chrollo had ushered you away from the rest of the group, away from him.

Regardless, you stood and waited, waited for him to do or say anything so that you could gage how you were meant to react to him when suddenly he was looking at you and cupping your cheeks in his hands.

“You do not have to worry about being sold to anyone. I’m not in the business of human trafficking.” The sincerity in his words should have calmed you, but it didn’t. You’d heard promises from other men before. Promises to run away with you; promises to marry you and give your parents what they so desired and to save you and your siblings.

But promises were made to be broken and you weren’t going to hold your breath that this man, lawless as he was, was any different than the rest.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” You said stepping out of his grasp and moving out of arms reach. The moment felt far too intimate for someone you had just met, for someone who was essentially holding you captive as he’d made no mention of letting you go.

Chrollo dropped his arms and looked at you carefully, you could feel his eyes rove over you, and you wondered if he was appraising you as a woman or as a ward, either way it made your skin crawl and feel like a filly up for auction all over again.

“I don’t blame you for not trusting me. I’m sure there were people in your past who promised you things and never saw them through. Left you feeling more vulnerable and alone than you had prior to. I understand that, I have been there and been in the same place. The only family, the only true family I had was one I created by bringing together a bunch of misfits who sought to burn the world to the ground for the atrocities that we shared. We are bound by a common goal of watching the world, and the people who prosper from the neglect and despair of others, burn. While I have not been in your exact position, I can still understand where you are coming from.” You turn to look at him, eying him carefully as he continues on with his little speech. “I’ll give you two options. You can leave, right here, right now. I’ll take you wherever it is you want to go and that’ll be the end of it. If we see each other, or if you see any of the other members, we’ll act as if we have no idea who you are. However, I think there are things you want to accomplish, people you want to keep with you and as you are now, you won’t be able to accomplish those things.”

“So…what exactly are you suggesting?”

“Stay with us. Let me and the other members train you, tap into the clear raw ability you have. Earlier, the members were using a technique called zestsu. When highly capable Nen users are using this technique, their presence is nearly untraceable. However, when myself or other members of the Troupe do it, along with other high skilled hunters, we should completely disappear.” He says and the way his eyes light up as he describes this has you both intrigued but also unnerved. “You, who has no nen abilities or true knowledge, should not have been able to detect Feitain, Machi, Phink, Shalnark, or Nobunaga when you walked into the room. However, there wasn’t a single presence hidden from you. That’s not something even elite nen users can do, let alone you. And yet…you did and with seemingly no effort at all.”

You looked him over, knowing this offer was too good to be true, and what was it that he got in return out of this deal? The warning bells in your head were going off, telling you that while this deal seems to benefit you the most…you just knew that there was no way, shape, or form in which a man like him would allow any deal to benefit anyone other than himself.

So, you did the only thing you could do, ask.

“How do you benefit from this? It seems burdensome to take on a complete stranger who may have a disposition for high potential. But there’s no guarantee that my nen ability is anything other than this.”

Clearly, the man wasn’t used to his authority being question—although it wasn’t in your intention to do as such, you could see how it could be construed that way—and seemed to regard you in a new way. He was obviously amused by your honesty and total lack of trust in him and his intention. You didn’t see how he could blame you though. No honor among thieves was a saying for a reason and you very much doubted that him and his ragtag group of thieves, professionals and highly regarded in the underworld be damned, were just going to pull a 180 and do something out of the kindness of their hearts. At the end of the day, a thief was a thief and their word usually meant little. That was something you father had taught you early on. You had been too trusting as a child, wanting to see the good in everything, regardless of the bad.

“But papa, that doesn’t mean they’re all bad.” A much younger you had said innocently enough as you father had dragged you away from the group of older girls who had been trying to exploit your generosity.

“No, it doesn’t but you also need to realize that the majority of people do not have good intentions.” Crouching down in front of you, he’d grabbed on your shoulders and made you look directly into his eyes. “And those who never do, never will. Do you understand? You need to understand that you are very valuable, and to the wrong people could be a great bartering chip to be used against others. Make sure you can’t be.”

You honestly hadn’t understood exactly what he meant, but the message had stuck and several years later, you had known what he meant by it. People who proved themselves worthy of your trust could have it…but you always needed to keep it in your head that there were those who, despite proving themselves as friends, could be masked foes and you needed to have a plan in place should that occur. More often than not, you wondered if you were actually the wolf in sheep’s clothing simply masquerading as docile and inept, when really…you were probably the most calculating and tactile in the room.

“And what’s to say that you won’t use what I teach you against me, against us?” He asks, and you know he means it rhetorically, but you can’t help your biting response.

“You wouldn’t ever give me the opportunity.” Your response is lightening fast, coming out before he truly has even finished his question and you know you have truly piqued his interest now, again making you wonder how people truly viewed you. “I told you, I was raised for the sole purpose of being a formidable opponent to anyone who tried to harm by future husband…my mother was not lenient in her pursuits.”

“Indeed…that certainly is becoming clearer now.”

You’d come to an agreement with Chrollo. He, and the rest of the Troupe who wished to partake in your training, would do as such. He had already told you that his methods did not truly align with the “generally approved instruction” of other masters, but then again…when did anything he did?

But as of now, he told you to relax. Take a shower, get some food, sleep, he or one of the other members would come and find you once they’d returned back from the mission he’d sent them on. As for him, he had other things to attend to. His offer still stood, he’d said before he’d walked out the door, that should you choose that you did not want his help or that of the Troupe, he would respect it, but advised you to be gone before anyone got back or the training began. Because after that point, leaving was going to require you going through the front door and would more than likely be a battle with whomever was blocking it. Whether that be him or a different member, he didn’t specify, and you didn’t ask.

You were currently sitting in the tub; in the room he’d showed you as your own. It reminded you a lot of the room you had at the home your parents owned in the country. It overlooked a beautiful garden in the back and had windows that faced the east, so when the sun rose, you would too. There was an en-suite attached that was larger than you had ever seen before. Shower, tub, separate toil area, two sink vanity, and walk in closet to boot. You knew they had money, despite his comment that “money, power, and fame were not” what drove them to do what they did, it was clear that their endeavors were clearly not fruitless…no, not at all.

The moment you realized you were alone, you’d crawled into the tub, clothing and all and cranked the water to as warm as it would go and just sat there as the water rose. While you had a thousand thoughts zipping through your head…you couldn’t seem to latch onto one in particular, just staring at the water blankly.

You thought back to the comment he’d made when you’d walked back into the study after his little experiment. Apparently we didn’t get all of the auction items. While yes, that was true, they hadn’t gotten all of them as there were different rounds and the items showed up in waves so they wouldn’t be vulnerable to a heist—or so Yuuto had explained when you’d asked—the items for the first round had all be within the lot of goods the others had brought back. And you didn’t take Chrollo for wanting silly things like rare videos games…although it was a high ticket item.

So, all you could deduce from that was that this was a trap. A poorly set one, and one you were certain he’d already figured out but still, the members he’d sent, unless aware were walking into a trap and the Ten Dons had an artillery of their own, with weapons you were led to believe could even take on the Phantom Troupe.

Regardless of all of this information though…you couldn’t say you cared, nor did you care if you were questioned later as to whether or not there had been more items because while you didn’t think there were any, you couldn’t be certain, and it wouldn’t surprise you if there had been more. Someone didn’t become that powerful by being lax in their paranoia.

Maybe you could learn and thing or two from that mentality.

You don’t know how long you sat in the tub for. At some point the water became cold and your clothes began to rub you the wrong way. Thus, you took them off, throwing them away from your body, drained the water and stared the process over again.

Your skin was not only a pretty shade of pink and red, just about all over, but the pruning of it was beginning to feel uncomfortable not that it bothered you. It was a distraction, one you desperately needed. But it also made you think.

Made you evaluate your circumstances and try to figure out what exactly your plan of attack was going to be; what you could anticipate being Chrollo’s and the rest of the troupes’ motives and actions from here on out…and how you could use all of those pieces to your advantage. You need to uncover their weaknesses and find a way to exploit them. Maybe there was someone who knew them and you could mutually benefit each other?

“Think too hard and you might hurt yourself little dove.” Were you not as exhausted as you were, you might have jumped out of the tub when you heard Hisoka. No, instead you turned to look at him, leaning against the doorjamb leading into your room, idly shuffling through his deck of cards.

He looked at you through his lashes, coy smirk growing on his lips as he sauntered forward and again, it struck you that had you not been so exhausted, mentally, emotionally…physically, you probably would’ve jumped up or screamed at him to leave. But you simply did not have any reserved energy left to consider your modesty a priority.

You also doubted it would do you any good anyway. Hisoka didn’t strike you as the type to listen to a request like that anyway. He seemed to enjoy toying with people’s discomforts.

“I wouldn’t call what I’m doing thinking.” You mutter, turning away from him and sinking further into the water, nearly causing it splash out of the sides.

“Oh? Then what would you call it? Planning? Devising?”

“I’d call it a jumbled ball of messy thoughts that benefit me in no way.”

He hums at this, coming to sit on the floor beside the tub and you suddenly realize just how tall he is. The tub has to be at least two feet off the ground if not more, yet when he sits down, and slouches even, he’s still considerably taller than you. You would, under normal circumstances, have curled in on yourself in order to preserve your modesty. It was one thing for him to be standing in the doorway, your back to him and the hazy from the steam distorting your image in the mirror.

However, with him right here, next to you, there is nothing distorting your nakedness from his peering eyes. A nakedness that no man, outside a physician for the Dons’, has seen. But for the fact that you are too exhausted to care, you do not move to cover yourself more than your arms already had. You hadn’t realized that at some point, you’d curled back in on yourself again…maybe your subconscious was more conscious than you realized.

Despite all of this though, Hisoka turn himself so his back was towards you and in that moment you were struck by something. Most probably would’ve viewed this as trust, but you knew better. You hadn’t known this man for more than a moment. It wasn’t trust at all.

It was a silent assertion of just how weak he viewed you. How weak they all probably viewed you. For some reason this pissed you off. Rage flared low in your stomach and raced through you veins and clawed at your throat, questing to lash out at the closest target. However, your mind was quick to act and quell those feelings almost as quickly as they appeared. He was right, you were weak and lashing out at someone that much more powerful than you was not only reckless, but just plain stupid. You’d accomplish nothing on your best day as it was, not even including the fact that you were currently exhausted.

No, getting pissed off was misplaced in this situation…but it was a tangible force that could push you do work hard, to become a formidable opponent.

One in which Hisoka would never turn his back on.

As you both continued to sit there in silence, you couldn’t help but wonder if Chrollo had called him back to watch you. You thought it odd but not outlandish. You hadn’t taken Chrollo as a liar though and the offer to leave, while not something you were going to take him up on, seemed to vanish the moment Hisoka walked into the house or within a vicinity to spot you in your endeavors to vacate the premises before anyone got back.

But then you thought about what Chrollo had said. Leaving before anyone got back and scoffed, shaking your head, wondering how you could be so thoughtless.

“Something amusing little dove?” Hisoka poses, throwing another playing card towards the vanity. What he’s trying to hit, you’re not sure.

“Just realizing how inept my critical thinking skills have been lately.” His hesitation in throwing the next card relays to you his peaked curiosity, although he says nothing. “Chrollo told me I could leave should I chose to, but I had to do as such before anyone got back or prove that I was worthy of walking through the front door. At the time I thought nothing of it, assuming when he suggested I shower and sleep, that I’d have time to do those things. When you walked in, I wondered if he’d been lying but thought that odd because…I didn’t sense him lying.”

You pause and chuckle again. “No, he wasn’t lying…he just also wasn’t being entirely truthful either. He just left out the fact that you and whomever else returned with you wouldn’t be long after he left. Had I been paying attention, been thinking I would’ve caught that. I’m not entirely sure at what point I either reached such a level of exhaustion…or decided you lot were trustworthy enough to not care.”

The revelation had you looking up from your hands and the man sitting beside you. It also had you wondering what his purpose was for coming into the bathroom. You knew, now, that Chrollo hadn’t ordered him back; hadn’t given him instruction to watch you. No, Hisoka had come here of his own volition and you the question as to why was picking at your brain…and paranoia. Why would he come here? There was a piece to this puzzle that you were missing, and you couldn’t decide if it was because you just didn’t have the information or if it was again to your own obtuseness.

The thought niggled at the back of your head, running through scenario after scenario. Did he have a connection to someone you knew? Someone you had known? Was he a double agent working for the Dons and was keeping your close so that he could return you to them? No, that didn’t seem likely…but not the double agent part. You didn’t take him to follow orders from anyone; he didn’t seem like the type to play to play well with others for long.

“I’m starting to wonder if the steam is coming from the hot water or from in between your eyes little dove.”

“I don’t understand.”

“What is it you don’t understand?” He questioned, throwing another card and this time putting some force behind it as it cut into the vanity and stuck.

You were certain it was an intimidation tactic to indicate to you to tread lightly.

“Why you’re in here. I know Chrollo didn’t order you to be here, there’s no reason to place a guard on me. I’m sure he texted everyone telling them I wasn’t going anywhere, regardless of whether I’d come to that conclusion myself prior to or after he’d sent it. And I don’t take it anyone would just…wander in unwelcome. I’m sure there’s something, some presence around meant to keep those who don’t know better away…and those who do, a warning of fleeting life. And I’m not interesting enough to truly pique your interest. Maybe after I’ve spent some time learning nen and training. But as it stands, right not I’m of no consequence to you and so I don’t understand why you’re here.”

Taking in a deep breath, you realize that he’s completely stopped throwing the cards, and not because he’s out. No, he’s caused four more cards to stick to the vanity. The King of Spades, the King of Aces, the King of Diamonds, and then the Queen of Hearts are all standing up and a feeling goes through you that you can’t place. It warms you, and yet makes your blood run cold all at the same time and leaves you feeling a little lightheaded and dizzy. Maybe you’ve been in the bath for too long.

“You’re very perceptive little dove, more perceptive than anyone has realized…certainly far more intelligent than you’ve been given credit.” He stands and plucks the random card from the vanity, along with all those he scattered haphazardly on the floor but leaves the Kings and Queen. “I look forward to seeing how you ripen little dove. I’m certain that you will become…especially sweet when this is all said and done.” He chuckles lowly and in the back of his throat, the effect making you shudder, and not in a pleasant way, as he begins to leave before pausing and turning to look at you over his shoulder.

“I do have a question for you little dove.” He says and you hum, indicating that you’re listening. “What do you know of Illumi Zoldyck?”

#Dancing with the Devil(s)#fic #hunter x hunter #chrollo #chrollo fic #hisoka #hisoka fic #illumi zoldyck #illumi fic #reader insert fic

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effigyofowls · 3 years

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Escaping Expulsion spoilers!! Raving or talking again!! Spoilers below!!

-Odalia is even more worse than I thought she was gonna be and that’s saying something (YOU GIVE ORACLES A BAD NAME, YOU WENCH)

-I DID NOT expect Alador to look/act this way (thought he was going to be another snooty rich parent stereotype) he’s so tired (I don’t like/trust him yet despite him being less bad than his wife...I mean he also threatened Amity to break her friendship with Willow off and stuff and just...agh)

-LUZ TEACHER, SUCH A GOOD 😭

-Lilith was defs that kid in school and Eda whittling on her desk ajdhfhhg

-so I was right in my thinking that the glyphs themselves come from nature or other spells and it doesn’t seem to be any more Luz can find...wonder how they’ll make do with this in the future

-EDA PLEASE AJDHFHGHG

-so it’s been over a week since Luz attended school and seen Gus and Willow, I guess she was too busy with the bounty hunting and waited until the attention from the pertification ceremony died down?? (oh boy she’s going to have a LOT of classwork/homework to catch up on...)

-THE BESTIES 🥺🥺🥺 also Gus omfg the voice change is gonna take some getting used to

-FAIRY PIE...OH DEAR....😬(I guess it’s the thought that counts??)

-ODALIA IS THE WORSE, PART 2 also the kids’ expressions when Alador said “executed” oh dear

-Luz is a freaking saint because she worries about Odalia meddling in her friends’ lives and such 😭

-Bump has a soft spot for the trio, he’s definitely one of my favorite supporting characters and I’m glad to see more of him in this season

-Eda pls ajdhfhf

-Lilith Elsa-ing around with the ice and being besties with Hooty, good for her then

-LUZ I KNOW YOU LIKE TO BE A HERO AND HELP YOUR FRIENDS BUT YOU DON’T HAVE TO GO TO SUCH EXTREMES TO DO SO....

-ODALIA BEING THE FRIGGIN WORSE, PART 3 WHERE SHE TRIES TO DESTROY A TEENAGER JUST BECAUSE HER DAUGHTER CARES FOR HER

-How is the TOH crew so good when it comes to writing sibling interactions??

-AMITYYY YOU GO KIDDO AND LUZ FINALLY CATCHING SOME FEELINGS

-They get to stay at school, whew...I’ll give Alador that one, but I still don’t trust him yet

-GLYPH/MAGIC LORE, JUST WHAT i WAS WAITING FOR!!! also I had a feeling that the glyphs themselves don’t contain magic but instead are like instructions to command magic! I hope we get to see more when it comes to this!

-Luz deserves a nice long sleep and also some first aid, I know Eda was hyperfocusing on learning this but I hope she realizes later that Luz was hurt and helps with her injuries (maybe I’ll make a mini fic for that...)

-GG coming in again and buying up all the Abomination soldiers...what is Belos doing

Just a bit of a long thought that I had when I first watched this...I was kinda muddled over how Eda acted in this episode then I reflected...Eda is still dealing with the loss of her powers which she thinks may come back (we don’t know if they can come back or not, I doubt it but we’ll have to wait and see...)

One of the things that made Eda “Eda” was being “the most powerful witch on the Boiling Isles”...(and she might’ve could’ve been, considering)

Her ego has been dealt a HUGE blow and she’s struggling with how she’s going to have to learn magic in a new way and adapt to not having magic to help her now...also considering her stance on school and how she was like as a student, I suppose she doesn’t like learning the basics or how to take things slow...she used to just study her own way but now she has go a different route...hopefully she’ll learn her own spin on glyphs and will be okay eventually...

Anyway that’s all I can say for now, I can’t wait for “Echoes of the Past”! Can’t wait for next week!!

#toh spoilers #the owl house spoilers

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safestsephiroth · 4 years

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#12: Tooth and Nail - Ebony Wae (FFXIVWrite2020)

More information on FFXIVWrite can be found here: https://sea-wolf-coast-to-coast.tumblr.com/tagged/ffxivwrite2020+prompt+list

Behemoths were, by their nature, both a rarity and an enormous threat. The necessity of eradicating the potential spawn of Bahamut was not lost on Ebony Wae, who, given the choice, would have waited for them to grow to full size so that the fight would be more fair. What was the fun in fighting what amounted to a feral teenager?

Her armor shone in the Coerthan sunlight, stark ebon-black and silver filigree sticking out amidst the snowfall. True, this one didn't directly threaten Ul'dah. But she could not trust the denizens of Ishgard to shut down such a thing before it did. A trio of attendants kept their distance - a Keeper conjurer hire-on and an Elezen archer picked up in Gridania, a Highlander pugilist from the Guild in Ul'dah.

"It's freezing," the pugilist moaned. His skin was tinged red under the harness he wore. His bare chest fared poorly matched against the Coerthan chill.

"Then run in place." Ebony's battle-chocobo towered over those of her companions. "All you need do is clean up. The bulk of the work I will do myself."

"No doubt," the archer muttered. His bow, he had sworn, was passed down through generations. Ebony suspected it was simply old and, therefore, cheap.

"I still think we should have brought more with us," the conjurer added. She had eagerly accepted Ebony's job offer and had only found out, after the contract was sealed, that they were hunting a Behemoth. The eagerness died there, and hadn't come back since.

"That will be unnecessary. The only reason I hired you lot was to create commerce, to please Nald."

"Right. Right..."

The opening of the beast's den was obvious. Ebony dismounted not far from it. Pulled a horn from her side. The merchant had told her this warhorn would summon the beast. Fighting it inside its own lair would be far more dangerous than choosing this ground.

A falling rock from the sky may well collapse a cave.

"Prepare yourselves."

The Gridanians groaned in unison, dismounting. The pugilist hopped from his bird, and blew on his hands before drawing his hora. "Finally. Let's hurry up."

"It's none of our faults you didn't bring a coat," Ebony pointed out.

"It's just my way not to."

"You've never seen snow before, have you." Ebony's voice was as dry as the Sagolii.

"...No."

"It's colder than a desert night."

"Yeah, I'd noticed."

"Coats are cheaper in Ul'dah than in Coerthas, because the demand is much higher, but with ongoing reconstruction supply is also lower proportionally, since many are shipped in from the Weaver's Guild now."

"Blow the damned horn."

"We must pray to Nald'thal first."

"Oh Gods."

"No, that's not how we start a prayer." Ebony cleared her throat. Held her right hand to an icon of Nald'thal emblazoned across her armor. "Cherished Nald, hear my call! Your beloved follower in profit and business asks: please bless us with financial gain on this venture, and ensure our dealings fall in line with Your expectations."

The conjurer opened her mouth, and was silenced with a look from Ebony, who then continued: "Beloved Thal, I ask, please grant this beast we face the death it deserves, and pass Your judgment on whether we deserve to join You now or in the future."

"That's... not any prayer I've heard..." The archer mumbled.

"SILENCE!" Ebony pointed. "I'm talking to Nald'thal!"

"Sorry, Your Highness." His eyes rolled.

"Your apology is accepted this once." Ebony cleared her throat once again. "Beloved Traders, please bless this hunt, which I carry out in Your names."

Silence fell over the Coerthan valley, as the wind died down. Clouds drifted past the sun, dimming the harsh glare across the fresh snow.

"See? Nald'thal has blessed our hunt. We cannot fail."

"Just a coincidence," the archer mumbled again. "There's no godsdamned way she can control the weather."

"Faith is our shield." Ebony pulled the oversized two-handed sword from her back. "And I am our sword. Let us begin." She hefted it over one shoulder, balancing it with one hand, and blew the horn.

An odd, echoing, rumbling cry filled the valley.

One which was matched from within the cave.

At breakneck pace, a wild-eyed Behemoth burst out of the cave, at least two tonze of pure muscle. Ebony grinned. The pugilist balked. The archer nocked an arrow.

"Shit." The conjurer stepped /well/ back, readying her wand.

Ebony sprinted, full-pace, towards the Behemoth, leaping through the air to slam her sword straight into its face. It leaped towards her in kind, the two colliding mid-air. An arcane shield formed around her the instant before the collision, and she was knocked back some ten fulms, blood fresh on her blade. The Behemoth was now one-eyed and furious.

An arrow limply connected with its mane, tangling in the fur. The lack of blood from the shot infuriated Ebony, whose rage fueled her power further. She threw her arm out, flinging an ominous ball of energy at the beast. It exploded at the Behemoth's side, the smell of scorched fur filling the air. It charged her, and the pugilist leaped forward, slamming his hora into its side. The beast roared again at the impact. It turned mid-charge, skidding to a halt through the snow, eye focusing hard on the pugilist. Ebony's sword carved a gash across its back.

"I am the threat, beast. Focus on me!"

She was hauling back for another mighty swing when it turned, sweeping its hand and knocking her aside. The weight of the impact flung her through the snow. She reveled in it.

"Twelve alive," the conjurer muttered, channeling a Cure spell. She stepped back even further before flinging it at Ebony, who was already climbing back to her feet.

"I'm not finished yet, you meaty bastard!"

The pugilist backed off as the Behemoth turned to face Ebony once more. The man was narrowly able to dodge as its tail swept at him, clouds of breath in front of his face.

Another arrow limply bounced off the Behemoth's skin.

"This is bad," the archer observed. "We should leave this to the Ishgardians."

"COWARDICE IS INTOLERABLE!" The Behemoth leaped towards Ebony, jaws wide, fangs clamping down on her sword, held before her with both arms bracing the blade. "ATTACK ITS RIBS, THEY'VE BEEN SOFTENED UP!"

A soft /whump/ as another arrow connected.

"DAMN YOU, YOU SAD EXCUSE FOR AN ARCHER!"

The pugilist's arm SLAMMED into the beast's side, and it reeled, hot breath washing over Ebony. She yanked her sword back, cutting across its mouth as it turned at the pugilist, before bringing her blade down into its neck. The beast swiped at her, claws slamming straight into her armor and knocking her back into the rocks, before falling limp, its blood spilling onto the snow. The body twitched a few times.

A slow, soothing pulse across her body. Ebony straightened herself up as the cracks in her ribs mended.

"I don't know what that armor's made of, but it's saved your life at least twice."

"The Wae Family accepts nothing less than the best." She looked between the trio. "When it comes to our armaments, at least. Good work, everyone. Now let's get this body back for the bounty."

The head adorned her bedroom wall, for a short time, before being moved to her trophy room. A mysterious decision, whose timing coincided with a private visit from a particular blonde woman.

#FFXIVwrite2020 #ebony wae #ffxiv RP #behemoth

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37-children-of-the-dreams · 3 years

Text

Day #25: I'm A Mess

I can't write smut/NSFW, or sweet innocent romance. Hence the title. Sorry folks.

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

Lagos was running wildly from the hanger. From Korkie. From his traitorous relationship with that bastard clone. It doesn't make any sense to her why he chose a clone. Yes, he said he has a liking to men, but clones are not people. They're clones and they were only made for war. War that took away Mandalore from Korkie and his future. He shouldn't love a clone who help steal his future. He would be betraying everything he was taught to be as a Kryze. Especially if those ideas came from Satine.

"Poor Satine," Lagos thought. "If she was alive, she'd stop Korkie from being with that clone."

Lagos ran and ran until she was caught by Amis. Soniee was the one who saw her running and told Amis to catch her because Lagos didn't look well. Amis held her down and lead them to the nearest sitting area. Lagos was too busy crying to make any words. Soniee went next to her left and calmed her down enough to have a conversation.

"He really is married," Lagos lamented. "I saw him. I saw Korkie being highly intimate with that clone."

"Please tell us you did not interrupt them?" Soniee asked. "Korkie has the rights to show affection to his man."

"And that clone? Crosshair?" Amis chimed in. "He looked like he hates being interrupted by anyone."

"Do not call that clone by its name!" Lagos cried. "He corrupted Korkie and made him willing to have sex in public. I saw Korkie being undressed by it and he didn't do anything. The worst part? That clone saw me and just smirked."

"Lagos," Soniee said. "Why did you even think going to Korkie was a good idea? He didn't want to be with us anymore."

"Especially if he's in love," Amis agreed. " Lagos. We can't get him anymore. He's not a Kryze anymore if he's married and took his husband's last name."

"Clone do not have last or clans," Lagos argued. "He's throwing away everything he knows. We need him to see he made a mistake and leave with us for Mandalore."

"By mistake you mean... Korkie has to divorce his own husband?" Amis gasped.

"Lagos! NO!" Soniee protested. "You know what will happen to him if he does. High ranking Kryzes don't get divorces and even if he secretly did divorce him, someone will know. And if someone knows, Korkie would either exile himself again, or commit suicide."

Lagos looked at her friends. She knows the whole "Kryzes-can't-remarry" idea. But, that was only if the Kryze divorces someone. Not if their spouse had died.

"What if he died?" Lagos asked.

"Lagos, think clearly," Soniee said. "I know Clan Eldar kept pushing the idea that you would become Korkie's wife one day, but that was when Mandalore wasn't being ruined by Death Watch and Maul. This world is changing and once Bo-Katan figures out that she had hurt her own nephew by not letting him fighting for his home, don't you think she won't let him be married to someone he never wanted? She loved her family and Korkie is the last person she has a link of Satine. And we all know why Satine never married."

"But a clone?"

"Isn't as worse as being in love with a Jedi. They might not live long, but don't Jedis live hard lives also? I mean remember how much Korkie studied about the Jedi and the clones? He saw them not as ancient enemies or the slaves of our old enemies. He saw them as people who could listen to the ideas of peace."

"He still chose to be a bounty hunter. Didn't Satine almost died by those every single time?"

"True," Amis agreed. "But think about it. He's Mandalorian. We might have been pacifist for years, but no one forgets how we still have warrior bloodlines. Mandalorians and bounty hunting do seem to go together at times."

"This is still messed up. We need to stop Korkie before he gets to comfortable with this lifestyle."

"He's already comfortable. Didn't you see the puck in his hand? He hid it before you part him from the husband."

Lagos stood up. "He had a puck? We need to find another one, the same one he had."

Soniee and Amis shook their heads. They really didn't want to be in a bounty, and they were afraid of Crosshair and his apprentice. They looked like they could shoot them both dead in seconds. Yet, Lagos was insistent and they followed her for her safety. They went to the hanger to find the trio of bounty hunters ready to do their jobs. Two speeder were at the entrance.

"Two?" Korkie asked.

"There was a problem with another group destroying one speeder earlier," Fennec explained.

"You think people wouldn't be so reckless with speeders in this planet."

"Well at least one of them has enough space for one in the back," Crosshair comforted. "Which means you can watch Fennec in the back."

"Really? Watching Fennec for safety?"

"You never know," Fennec chimed. "I'm just starting to be a good sniper."

Korkie sighed as he sat behind Crosshair for safety. Fennec went off before them laughing.

"I told you she didn't need my protection!" Korkie cried as they left.

Lagos, Soniee and Amis ran after them and found a taxi cab.

"Sorry," Soniee apologized. "But we need you to follow those speeders."

The cab driver wasn't willing to do anything until he saw the amount of credits Lagos flashed. They were off finding the trio when the cab stopped.

"Why did you stop?" Lagos asked.

"Sorry girlie," the cab driver said. "But that's gang territory and I'm not welcomed there."

Lagos gave the cab driver half of the credits he saw and the Mandalorians left. They saw the speeders Korkie and his crew came in and walked to find them. What they saw wasn't the best. Korkie had a hostage in sword point as Crosshair was surrounded by still bodies and a lone man was begging at Fennec's feet.

"Please," the man begged. "I know I've wronged you before, but aren't we family?"

"Family?" Fennec spat. "You stole from my mother and left her dying in debt. I lost my old home because of you. I couldn't believe my luck when I saw you were a bounty."

"The stars were basically smiling at her," Crosshair congratulated. "I mean, Fennec lived the harsh life and was basically in the dumps when we took her in."

"I kept asking her if she wanted some new clothes," Korkie complained. "But her past made her think she never deserved the good stuff. So, be a good bounty, or this one dies."

"Which reminds me," Fennec said. "Which woman is this? I mean, you dumped my surrogate aunt for some reason."

The target whimpered until he saw the three Mandalorians. He took a shot at them with a grenade. Lagos screamed at the sight of the grenade and ran away. The commotion gave the man enough time to run as Lagos, Amis and Soniee stopped running. They saw the smoke and gasped.

"We just let Korkie die by grenade," Lagos sobbed.

She didn't mean for anything like that to happen and cried. She just wanted Korkie back and their lives back to what it was before losing Mandalore. She cried with Amis and Soniee comforting her until an angry growl was heard.

They saw Crosshair holding Korkie in a protective arm sling. Korkie was the one growling as Fennec coughed some ash. Korkie pushed away from Crosshair as pointed his fingers at them in anger.

"We had that man," Korkie bawled. "What is your problem? Why are making thing harder for me? I had caused multiple problems for Crosshair during a ton of our bounties and I just had enough of making him overwork his skills and being useless!"

Crosshair put a hand on Korkie's shoulder. But Korkie kept going.

"I know you're so mad about me being in love with a man Lagos, but why can't you understand that you might not be in a good relationship with me? That maybe it's not worth the pain of a bad marriage? That I might secretly be giving my heart to someone else if we're married because I never had the choice to be with my soulmate?"

"Korkie," Lagos whimpered.

"No. Lagos. I'm sorry, but I'm not really married to Crosshair. Nanny Rana only said that because she knew I'd fall for someone who might actually see me for my worth and he does every time I need to hear it. I am intimate with him, but we're just figuring out if we would love to marry each other. Please, just leave me alone with him and Fennec. These people are my new family. A family that didn't abandon me to mourn my mother alone without the correct mourning rites."

Lagos wanted to say more, but she didn't. See finally saw Korkie. The new Korkie as he is. He was stronger, more defiant and a fighter. He was freer than the Korkie she knew. He was finally showing his true emotions and being with someone he loves.

Lagos nodded. "I'm really sorry for not seeing you as you are now. I'm just stuck in the past because I'm scared of the future."

"Well stop being afraid. There is someone out there who might actually love you, and he might be better than me."

Korkie left his former friends with Crosshair holding him steady for his sanity and the tears flowing from his eyes. Fennec went up to the Mandalorians as they left.

"When I met those two," Fennec said. "Korkie just found his father, who was a Jedi. Crosshair didn't want to be my mentor, but Korkie made him rethink his decision. They make each other a better person and they make a strong team. Please let them be. Korkie's still a good person, and Crosshair makes sure of it. He might be a bit rude now, but you did push his buttons."

Fennec left them to think about her words.

"Lagos?" Amis called.

"Are you okay?" Soniee asked.

"Yeah," Lagos said. "I'm just wondering how to move on like he did. He really isn't the Korkie we knew, he's a warrior now and he's got someone who completes him. The way I could never."

Lagos, Amis and Soniee left the gang area as they saw two speeder bikes run out from the area they were placed. Korkie was hugging Crosshair in the back as his former friends saw what might be the last time they see of the former duke.

"They really do fit," Lagos whispered. "I can see the love in their eyes."

#korkie kryze #korkie kenobi #crosshair #clone trooper crosshair #fennec shand #the bad batch #star wars #amis #lagos #soniee

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vulpinmusings · 4 years

Text

Ski’tar and Friends part 19: Bringing the House Down

This week, Ski’tar, Vemir, and 6 head to the Drow planet, Apostae, to catch a thief.

Part One

Last Part

Archive

Our next mission was given to us by Venture Captain Niaj, a pale-skinned gnome. We met her in a room lit entirely by holo-maps of various planets, including a few that Vemir, 6, and I had personally visited. Niaj explained that her primary purpose right now was tracking the Starfinder Society’s trade connections old and new, and that included the recent weapons deals. After the false deal we’d just dealt with had been flagged as suspicious, the Society had cut a new deal with a more reputable source: one of the largest Drow families on Apostae.

Apostae is a real charming world. It has little to no atmosphere on its surface, is honeycombed with networks of barely-explored tunnels made by some ancient extinct race, and the entire planet now basically belongs to those creepy subterranean demon-worshiping elves known as the Drow. I’ve heard that the Drow aren’t as bad as they were back in the pre-Gap days on lost Golarion, and they do have a somewhat reputable weapons trade running out of Apostae.

I still dislike them strongly.

The plan had been for us to accompany Niaj to Apostae to help guard the weapons the Society had bought, but a complication had arisen: someone had stolen the weapons. And for some reason, Niaj didn’t feel up to personally joining us on the new mission to locate the thief and get the goods back. With very little to go on, Vemir, 6, and I were shuttled off to Apostae.

Security around the planet was rather tight – our perfectly legitimate shuttle was scanned by a squad of fighters once we got into orbit, and as soon as we’d stepped out of the ship we were rounded up by some security Drow and escorted to the office of the head of the Drow family we’d bought the weapons from.

We were left waiting in a dim and grimly-decorated office for several minutes before Seobarn Zeizerer deigned to show up. While he said he was sorry that the weapons had been stolen, he felt it was not his business to help us locate them and deal with the thief. The thief in question happened to be a former member of House Zeizerer who had been disowned and ejected for just this sort of deal-interrupting behavior, and as Seobarn explained that to us we all saw that the situation weighed on him more than he was admitting. We reasoned, cajoled, and stole peeks at his computer screen until he admitted that he would very much like to punish the traitor properly and would give us leave to act in his name so long as we didn’t dally. He pointed us to a couple possible informants and, for good measure, gave us twenty-four hours of carte blanche to use his name to get whatever resources we needed, so long as we got the weapons and got off Apostae by the end of that period.

Twenty-four hours seemed like a lot of time to work with, right up until we tried to hunt down the first informant. It took us five hours just to navigate the dome-city of Nightarch and find the guy. Sixer intimidated him into revealing what he knew: the thief was named Violet, and he’d taken the weapons to a warehouse underneath an empty club.

Now realizing that our time was of the essence, we split up to apply our specialties to gathering more information. I hacked my through the planet’s computer network to get a floor-plan of the club and warehouse and spent several hours manually translating Drow in a search for information on Violet’s possible associates. Vemir inquired at a bounty office, got some useful information, and decided to rent the services of a few Orc thugs to give us some extra muscle in case of a fight.

I was not feeling inclined toward fighting our way through the building, so I came up with a plan: once we got to the club, I’d hack into its security system to find where Violet’s gang was hanging out and where the weapons were located. On the assumption that the gang would be hanging out in a central location, I would wire up bombs to blast the floor out from under them and leave us free to just waltz out with the weapons.

Considering my history with conflict-avoidance plans, it should come as no surprise that things did not really go my way.

We requisitioned explosives using Seobarn’s authority and hired some vehicles in order to get to the club faster. We had no difficulty getting past the simple chain-link fence around it. I knew from the floor plans that there was an exterior door that would lead us straight to the freight elevator down to the warehouse, and that door was unguarded. As it turns out, it didn’t need a guard because the lock on it involved some dark Drow magic that I had no idea how to hack through. So, we would have to go through the front door, and that would involve beating up a guard and walking through some hallways.

The front door was guarded by a single Drow, who fell quickly to the fists of Sixer and our Orcs, and the hallway was clear so we had no trouble getting to the elevator. I was still sour about failing to get past that first door, so I hurried everyone along and slammed the button to take us down.

The warehouse was packed with rows and rows of loosely-piled crates. As we stepped out of the elevator, we were greeted by some sort of sulfur-smelling flying imp thing. Vemir fed it a line about us being newly hired help, and it vanished without giving us any more trouble. I, still grouchy, proceeded to stalk through the aisles with reckless determination to get things back on track, and stumbled right into a magical trap that wrapped me up in shadowy tentacles and slammed me around.

It was at this point that I realized I had completely forgotten to figure out where Violet’s gang was before dragging everyone down into the warehouse.

With the grouchiness thoroughly beaten out of me and resigned to the fact that this probably wasn’t going to go smoothly anyway, I decided to just wire the entire ceiling to blow and take down the entire building, just to be sure. These Drow deserved nothing less for making me come to their planet to do extra work just to pick up weapons the Starfinders had bought fair and square.

It turns out we weren’t alone in the warehouse. Triggering the trap had caught the attention of a few Orcs who were overseeing a forklift robot several aisles down. One of those Orcs had been heavily modified with far too many tentacles (assuming there’s a normal number of tentacles for an Orc to have). Between my friends, Toosie, and our own Orcs, I didn’t think my own efforts were needed in the fight, so I resolved to sneak around and check out the forklift bot. As the team dispatched the first Orc with ease, I tried and failed to climb on top of one of the crate stacks and opted to just squeeze through it rather than run all the way to the end and around to the forklift. When I emerged into the next aisle, I saw 6 and Vemir shooting and slashing the tentacle-infested Orc while Toosie traded light blows with the remaining normal Orc. Our own Orcs were busy trying to get to good positions, and one spotted another of the traps like the one I’d set off. Tentacle-orc was thrashing about, and despite all the damage it took it just wouldn’t stop moving. Intrigued, I ran over to see if my decoupler pistol would do the job that knives and cryo-guns couldn’t. Short answer: no, it couldn’t.

One of our Orcs managed to get up on some crates and shot Toosie’s opponent through the head, and about the same time the tentacle-Orc, which was more goo than living creature now, made one last attack that knocked me and Vemir for a loop and then evaporated.

With that problem resolved, we went over to the forklift robot – Toosie in the lead in case of any more traps we couldn’t spot – and checked its load. The box it had been moving was full of weapons with Starfinder insignias roughly scratched out. So, hey, target acquired. As I was instructing the robot to move the box to the elevator, everyone split up to start setting up the bombs. Sixer triggered another trap in the process, but he took it like a champ. Vemir walked by a comm unit just as it turned on to broadcast the voice of Violet Zeizerer asking what all the noise was about. Vemir had one of the Orcs try to bluff that the forklift had just dropped its load, but Violet wasn’t fooled. Turns out he actually knows the voices of the Orcs that work for him.

In what would turn out to be a less than wise move, we tried to intimidate Violet into letting us just walk out by alerting him to the bombs we’d set up. The guy decided to send goons down anyway and get himself out of the building while we were occupied. I set the forklift robot into motion and we all hustled to get good positions before the elevator arrived. There were four Orcs and two Drow inside. Vemir and 6 opened fire to mixed results, and then the enemy Orcs piled out and engaged our trio. One of the enemy Orcs got the bright idea of climbing up the nearest stack of crates to remove the bomb that was stuck to the ceiling there. Using its hammer. The resulting explosion reduced the Orc to chunky salsa and collapsed some of the ceiling. The Drow team were not deterred by this; one of the Drow lobbed a grenade that killed one of our Orcs and harmed one his own and his buddy. I stepped out my cover and shot my laspistol at the grenade-thrower.

As Vemir moved in front of me to line up a shot, one of our Orcs bashed in the skull of one of the Drow’s Orcs, bringing the Orcish numbers back into balance again, while our other one shot grenade-Drow square in the chest with its cryo-pistol to great effect. The Drow who had been hit by the grenade tried to punch 6 and broke his hand, then stumbled backward into one of our Orcs, who’s gun went off right into the Drow’s spine. It would have been awesome if I could have seen that first hand, but Vemir was blocking my view. As Vemir related the sequence of events to me, laughing, the remaining Drow and one of the enemy Orcs took advantage of his distraction to hit with him a one-two blast of sonic and cryo guns. Vemir was hurting bad and wisely withdrew into cover to drink several healing serums while Toosie and I advanced to finish the fight.

Sixer engaged one of the remaining Orcs with his word, and the Orc responded by trying to shoot him. By luck, the bullet ricocheted right back into the Orc’s head, taking another enemy out of the fight.

I was starting to think 6 had suddenly become some sort of android demi-god the way things kept going perfectly his way.

The forklift robot was approaching the elevator at this point, dragging the mushed remains of our earlier fight along with it, and our current fight was pushing back into the elevator. Things were about to get a bit tight.

As the forklift loomed ever closer, 6 and the remaining Drow entered the elevator and struggled over the buttons while also trying to kill one another. Toosie and our Orcs pushed the remaining enemy Orc into the forklift’s path by accident while I missed my shots repeatedly. Our Orcs cleared out of the forklift’s path in time, while Toosie had to dodge away at the last second. The enemy Orc didn’t get away in time. 6 and the Drow were unaware of their impending death by forklift, so I told our Orcs to rush in and pull the Android out. They couldn’t shift 6, but their effort alerted him enough to avoid being completely crushed as the forklift, undeterred by all the viscera, dutifully completed it route. The Drow and one of our Orcs were utterly squashed, 6 was pinned painfully against the wall, and the last of our faithful Orc thugs managed to get out of the situation mostly unharmed.

Violet had apparently been watching the show via some remote security feed, as while were riding the elevator up he commed to inform us he was long gone and that Drows never forget.

So that’s another enemy that may show up again later.

Once we were clear of the building, I triggered the detonator. The blast erupted through the middle of the club, and then the whole structure collapsed inward into the warehouse below. It was a wondrous sight, but a small part of me was disappointed that the building had been fully vacated first. The point had been to take out Violet in dramatic fashion and maybe earn some points with Seobarn. Still, we had what we’d came for and just enough time left in our diplomatic immunity to get to the spaceport and away with minimal questioning by the authorities.

On the journey to the spaceport, 6 and Vemir got it into their heads to bring the surviving Orc back with us rather than return him to Apostae’s slave market. The Orc was quite reluctant to accept the proposition, having been raised in the system and quite well trained, but eventually my buddies brought him around. I stayed out of the whole argument since I honestly didn’t care one way or another.

The return trip and reporting to the bosses went off without much of note. Zigvigix was willing to take our Orc on as an Exo-guardian recruit and was glad to finally have some actual weapons for his teams. Niaj gave us a basic congratulatory debrief, and we went off for post-mission drinks. At the bar, a Drow approached us and gave us a card. Inside was fifty credits and a note from Violet reminding us that he was still out there and that we were on his list.

Drow are weird.

#ski'tar #Starfinder #Vulpin plays

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asteraegis · 5 years

Text

reposting shit

so this is that 5010 word (i know) edawale smut i posted when i first made this blog. im mainly reposting it bc im too lazy to go through my own blog to find it again, just less typos hopefully (im sorta dyslexic [i move words around in sentences when reading, sometimes do the letter bs] so i have no idea tbh)

tags if you have the time to read this novel length thing: mlm, some fisting, some choking, set in their time period, some breathplay, use of alcohol?, a lot of shitty jokes, 69ing, rimjob haha, ade is kinda sadistic sometimes too lol, blowjob, some nipple play, deep throating, self facial, rawing sorry ed, very light bondage, i guess humiliation?, probably some other shit i dunno i really beat my brain’s dick for my otp mate

below cut as always

The azure ocean rocked the whale boat as Edward scanned the bloodied surface for his prey. His fingers wrapped around the harpoon tight, prepared to launch the spear. Sweat and sea water dripped from his brow and down the bridge of his nose, focused, listening.

An eruption about twenty meters away revealed an orca. Edward cocked his head to look at the dolphin. “There you are.”

He hurled the harpoon at the animal, impaling it through its broad mid-section. The orca writhed about a bit before eventually giving in and relaxing into death. Edward grinned, he and two of his crewmates hauling the load back to the Jackdaw where the rest of the crew pulled the catch aboard the deck and began preparing it. As for the captain, he climbed back onto his ship and entered his quarters.

In the dimly lit room, his quartermaster, Adewale, stood over a map of the Caribbean Sea. He turned when he heard the door shut, nodding at Edward as he approached.

“Good day, cap’n,” the quartermaster said, looking back at the map. “How was the hunt?”

“Fine, crew’s cutting up the damned beast now,” Edward leaned against the desk, reaching for a cotton rag to dry himself with before replacing his captain’s gear. “How goes the fleet?”

Adewale huffed. “Well, you are better than I thought you would be at this.”

The captain laughed. “You have little faith of me, don’t you, mate? I’m hurt,” He rubbed the rag about his blonde hair then draped it over his shoulders and leaned back in his velvet armchair, tugging on his boots. “Really, Ade, how am I doing?”

“You should have a few frigates coming in from the Mediterranean in a week or so. Judging by where you sent them, they will have a considerable haul aboard them,” Adewale rolled up the map. “Good work, cap’n.”

Edward pulled on his coat and stood. “Thanks, mate. Set a course for Inagua, then. We can sell that whale then collect the loot from the frigs. Give the crew a well-deserved rest while we’re at it.”

“Aye. I will let them know,” The two men left the cabin and came to the wheel. “Full sail, we are heading to Grand Inagua!”

Upon arriving at the hideout’s dock, the Jackdaw’s crew dumped the orca at the market, splitting up the gained coin amongst each other afore rejoicing at the tavern. The pirates shared a few bottles, a few songs, and a few dances. A shining sun began to paint the sky with pinks and lilacs and the brothel’s lanterns lit to counter the encroaching darkness. The whores filtering out the doors of the cathouse seemed to allure the sailors like a siren’s song and shortly the docks, the boardwalk, and the roads were crowded with debauchery ranging from teenager-like flirting to couples disappearing into shrubs for some time alone.

Edward’s sharp blue eyes gazed upon the cove from the mansion’s courtyard, refreshing himself with a pint of rum. Girlish giggling blended into the silent courtyard’s air, the corsair turning his head to get a look at the prostitutes approaching him. Two well-endowed women sashayed toward the captain, fiendish smirks on their painted faces. The blonde cad spun on his heels, eager to ‘join in the festivities’ like his men on the shore.

“Evening, ladies. Beautiful night, ain’t it?” he leered, taking a couple short steps toward the women.

“It really is quite lovely, captain Kenway,” one of the women sighed, moving her shoulders in such a way that a sleeve slipped, lighting up the Welshman’s eyes.

“As brilliant as the sky is, there is a bit of a chill in the air. Shall we take this inside?” His eyes glinted with sinful delight, matching that of the courtesans’ as they followed him up the steps to his estate.

As the aroused trio reached the doorway, they were halted by a pompous-faced Adewale. “What do we have here, cap’n?”

Edward flicked his eyes at his quartermaster then to the dames. “Well we—"

“You are working on two doses of scurvy? Edward, I just gained respect for you, do not give me a reason to lose it all,” Adewale snarled, setting his shoulders back and glowering at the three.

“I didn’t—”

“I need to have a private conversation with my captain about supplies on the ship and the fleet’s future endeavors,” he said, grabbing Edward’s arm, pulling him away from the women.

“But they—”

Adewale cut off Edward again. “And if you two need attention so badly, the jagabats down the hill are looking for your services, so Kenway is not necessary for what you two want. Go.”

The women pouted and rolled their eyes but subsequently obeyed the looming man and hurried down the path while Edward gawked at his friend and the girls, completely flabbergasted.

“What the hell was that for?” Edward grumbled after Adewale pushed him inside, shutting the door behind them.

“I grow tired of your childishness, Edward. Do you not know how to behave yourself?” Adewale said, dropping Edward’s arm.

“I can behave myself, mate, now would you just—” Edward went to open the door but Adewale’s arm blocked him. “—dammit, Ade! What’s so bloody important that it must be done now?”

Keeping his left arm on the door, Adewale clutched Edward’s necklace and dragged him close enough that they could feel each other’s hot breath on their skin. “Listen, you slut. You are a captain, start acting like one,” He released Edward, who stumbled to his original position. “I need you to be a better example for the crew.”

Edward sighed, defeated, knowing his ménage a trois was cancelled. “What do you need me for?”

The quartermaster eyed his captain, pleased that he finally gave in. “I need to discuss the fleet with you,” The men walked to Edward’s office in silence and Adewale laid assorted papers across the desk. Edward sat on the tabletop and took one of the documents in his hand. “I got word that two of your brigantines sailed recklessly to Bristol and were challenged by the royal navy. They were given no quarter and the lot were slaughtered.”

Edward swallowed. “I see.”

“I understand that Great Britain does contain great bounty, but the price of lives holds far more worth than any currency. Until the waters cool there, I ask you,” he leaned into the other man, catching his eyes in his own, “not to send any more of the men northbound.”

“Aye, I won’t, mate.”

“The Bahjohns have sent a few galleons to purge pirates in the area between Nassau and Havana, as told by these papers,” Adewale noted.

“Shite, that’s where Thatch and Kidd sail,” Edward shook his head and rested his chin in his hand. “Jaysus, we need to—”

“I have already sent word to Captain Thatch and Master Kidd, they will be fine,” Adewale rested his hand on Edward’s shoulder. “Just, if you are unsure of a location, do not be afraid to call upon me for a second opinion.”

Edward nodded, watching Adewale’s hand slide off his shoulder. They looked away from each other and glanced about the room at Kenway’s treasures and paintings. The sun had set and moonlight trickled into the shadowy room. Candles spread about the space provided just enough visibility for the men’s faces to glow in fiery yellow light alongside the loot.

Adewale moved away from the desk. “It is getting late. I will leave you for the night—”

“Wait, Ade,” Edward grabbed his wrist and dropped to his feet off the table. “Stay a while. Those whores you scared off won’t be coming back. I’m not tired enough to sleep and, seeing as you cancelled my original plans, how ‘bout me and you share a bottle, aye?”

Adewale smiled. “Cap’n—”

Edward advanced toward him, creeping his hand from Ade’s wrist, up his arm, and to his shoulder. “Please, I insist.”

Chuckling, Adewale shook his head and rustled Edward’s flaxen hair. “You do not give up, do you?”

He sneered. “Glad you’re seeing it my way, mate. C’mon, there’s bottles on the bedroom table.”

The pirates strode to the next room, Edward taking it upon himself to uncork the first flagon. The men chatted, joked, bantered, and drank. They spoke about the years spent afore meeting each other and the adventures they’ve had plundering together. Eventually, the bottle ran out, Adewale tilting his head all the way back to check but to no avail. He frowned, rolling the flagon to the corner of the room with a few of the other ones.

“Damn. I’ll get another one, Ade,” Edward grumbled, standing up and walking over to get another drink.

At the table, he removed his overcoat, tossing it onto a nearby chair. Adewale took in Edward’s body, glancing up and down his shape, his loose leather vest letting his tattoos peek out from his clothes. As Adewale’s liquor-guided-gaze cascaded down Edward’s back, his curiosity got the best of him. Edward’s hips were sculpted like a woman’s giving him a near hourglass figure and a rear to match thanks to his thick, muscular thighs. Adewale watched his hips shift back and forth as Edward picked through half empty bottles, unaware that his partner could see him peeping in the reflection of the rum bottles’ glass. Kenway smirked, slowly turning with a bottle in hand.

“Enjoying the view, mate?” Edward teased.

Adewale blushed and rubbed his neck in embarrassment. “I—”

He let out a nasty laugh, swaggering back toward his friend. “Really, Ade, I’m chuffed,” Edward’s hand stroked Adewale’s clavicle to his lavaliere that he held between his fingers for a brief moment before laying his hand on the white silk of Ade’s undershirt, “and I’m eager to unleash that desire you’ve been hiding so well, mate.”

Adewale locked eyes with Edward’s, snatching the bottle from his hand and taking a swig of the alcohol. A devilish glow overtook his eyes matching Edward’s sly grin. He jerked Edward’s face down to his own, pushing his lips to his captain’s, forcing the drink into his mouth, which Edward happily swallowed. Adewale began unclasping Edward’s vest and unraveling his sash, Kenway doing the same all the while taking a seat on the quartermaster’s lap.

Shirts astray, Adewale ran his fingers across Edward’s chest’s tattoos and Edward rubbed through the fabric of Ade’s pin striped pants. Adewale leaned back into the satin sheets, yanking Edward down on top of him. His calloused hands drifted down the captain’s side, clutching the white pants and peeling them off. Unsurprisingly, Edward was lacking trousers of any kind under the clothing.

“Hm, that would explain your… seamlessness,” Adewale joshed, placing both palms on the sailor’s bare ass, gripping the sun kissed flesh in his dark fingers.

“I hate being restricted,” Edward said with a cheeky grin. He tucked his hand into Adewale’s pants, squeezing his cock to push a moan through his teeth, “something you seem to be.”

“Oh? And what do you mean by that?”

“You’re holding back, Ade. I don’t want your gentle side, I know your strength, mate. If I wanted lightness, I’d’ve ushered you away and done myself on the chaise.”

Adewale rolled his eyes then flashed a filthy grin. “As you wish.”

In a second, Adewale shoved Edward’s head down to his groin, unclasping his pants and drawers. His umber cock billowed out of the underwear, like an escapee fresh out of a gibbet. Edward couldn’t help but let the corners of his mouth betray his cool attitude, turning upwards in a purse-proud manner. Finally, he thought.

The quartermaster took a fistful of Edward’s sandy hair and yanked him forward, his cheek rubbing his cock with the blonde scruff. Edward moved his right hand up to caress Adewale’s shaft, a gross smirk lining his face.

“Your definition of rough is to hold my face near your crotch?” he taunted, his fingers sliding up and down the veiny mast. “Mate, I never took you to be a milksop but—”

“Move your fingers,” Adewale commanded.

“What? You don’t even want me to touch y—”

The second Edward’s hand moved Ade wrenched Edward’s mouth down his girth and to the base of his dick. The motion was so swift it caught the usually cunning and bombastic sailor off guard. Edward almost choked with the head deep in the back of his throat, releasing a yelp-like moan from between his lips and Adewale’s skin.

Adewale shot a toothy grin at Edward when he peered upwards like some guilty dog. “Ah, peace and quiet.”

Edward moaned in annoyance at Ade’s words, making him cackle and continue mocking his captain as he held Edward’s head to pull his lips back and forth across his foreskin.

“Look at you, not so proud anymore,” he crowed. “To think, someone as stubborn and headstrong as you just needed something in your mouth to quit your griping,” Adewale smacked Edward’s ass, making him let out a muffled grunt. “Arch your back.”

Not exactly happy about Adewale’s new, sadistic attitude—even though he did ask for it—but still curious to what his friend was capable of, Edward followed his demand. He stretched his back, pushing his chest into the mattress and his hips into the air. Adewale took Edward’s hands behind him, holding them against Edward’s spine with one palm and tying them using his bandana with the other. Ade then spat into his left hand and began working the pirate’s perked ass, sliding his moist middle and ring finger into Edward. He half-purred upon the finger’s entrance, pushing back against Adewale’s knuckles and trying to take his mouth off Ade’s shaft to catch his breath.

Adewale grinned smugly, keeping Edward breathless by controlling him like a puppet, holding the back of his head by his hair, slowly stroking his head back and forth across his cock. He pressed his fingers in deeper, Edward’s bound hands itching to rub himself empty.

“Captain, does this really tickle your fancy that much? I have not even touched your cock, y’know, and yet,” he stuffed his other two fingers inside Edward, making him groan frustratedly and dig his nails into his palms, “you are hard as rock and squeezing my fingers.”

Edward felt his cheeks turn hot, half opening his eyes and watching Adewale. He writhed his trussed wrists and whimpered, grinding his ass against Adewale’s fist, wanting to take it deeper and not caring about admitting it. The quartermaster pulled his dick out of Edward’s mouth, Edward panting lightly with drool dripping down his chin. Adewale took his fingers out of his friend then shoved Edward down onto the puffy sheets of the bed.

On his back with his arms still locked behind him, Edward bit his lip to stifle a yelp from the strain on his shoulders and elbows. Not completely heartless, Ade moved Edward’s hands to above his head so he could lay more comfortably, spread eagle in front of his best mate. Adewale caressed Edward’s tip expertly between his left thumb and fingers, leaning in to whisper in his ear:

“Are you still certain you wish to do this, Kenway? It is not the booze, right?” he asked, his warm breath tickling Edward’s ears.

Edward smiled. “How gentlemanly of you, Ade!” He cocked his head to stare into Adewale’s eyes. “Fuck me.”

Adewale smiled warmly before kissing him, still keeping his fingers steadily caressing his friend. Impatient as he is, Edward bit Ade’s lip, causing his mouth to open. Edward slipped his tongue into Adewale’s mouth, rubbing his knee against Ade’s groin. He pulled at the cloth binding his wrists, trying to loosen the grip so he could properly embrace his quartermaster, but, alas, he wasn’t getting off that easily.

Adewale shifted away from Edward to kiss his neck, slowly trailing down his body to kiss his clavicle, his chest, his naval, and finally—

“Wait, are you actually going to blow me?!” Edward gasped, writhing about, trying his best to sit up while Ade’s unused hand held him down.

He chuckled slyly, shaking his head. “I have other plans, cap’n.”

He lifted Edward’s legs over his head, pushing him into a contorted arch shape, Ade beginning to jerk himself off. He kneeled behind Edward, his dick brushing against Kenway’s ass. Edward looked nervously at Adewale, noticing that he was now in the position to be staring down the barrel of his own cock. Adewale grabbed Edward’s ass, grinding himself against his rump, switching his hand to jerk off Edward.

Seeing that he was increasingly becoming more aroused, blood rushing both to his pelvis and his head from being half upside down, Edward braced himself, knowing it was going to be messy.

Edward gulped, struggling to look Adewale in the eye. “Ah—Ade, I’m gonna come.”

His hips bucked and his toes curled, shutting his eyes and biting his lip as he came, his cum dripping down his chest and sticking to his face in warm, white strings.

Chagrined, he hesitated to look at Adewale. Cumming on yourself isn’t exactly a way to avoid humiliation, especially when your partner’s barely done anything yet. Nevertheless, he opened his eyes, surprised to see Adewale scowling at him.

“Truly, cap’n, I thought you would have more endurance than this,” he groused, shaking Edward’s legs off of him. Ade grabbed his throat to hold him, Edward’s rear resting over his lap, his back arching away from the mattress. Adewale leaned in, swiping his fingers over Edward’s cum then putting them in Kenway’s mouth. “It’s pathetic, really, sir.”

The captain spit Adewale’s fingers out of his mouth and choked out, “Let’s see how you do, mate.”

“Gladly.”

Adewale stuffed his cock into Edward forcefully, making him moan loudly and send shivers through his nerves. Ade pushed his tip deep inside him, still keeping his grip strong on Edward’s neck as he thrusted almost completely out of Edward before slamming back in. Adewale moved his hands onto Edward’s shoulders, pressing him into the bed while his legs wrapped around Ade’s back. The constant ruthless motion started pissing Edward off. How the hell had he not come yet? It’s like Adewale was drugged, he wasn’t slowing down anytime soon, so the captain decided to finally set a pace.

“Fucking cunt,” Edward grumbled through gritted teeth, flexing himself to squeeze Adewale, wriggling his hands out of the bandana and pulling Adewale down against him.

Edward clawed his brawny shoulder blades, kissing Adewale and holding him close. A groan rolled out of Ade’s throat as he came in Edward. When their lips parted, the captain was beaming.

“Ha!” he said, flashing an arrogant smile.

“This ain’t a competition, Edward,” Adewale huffed, rolling his eyes. “Now flip over, captain.”

Edward laughed but otherwise obeyed, resting on his hands and knees, arching his back to emphasize his shape. “What trick do ya got now, mate? It’s not like this is the first time I’ve been in this position.”

“Like I need to hear about your days as a punk right now, Kenway.”

“Aw, you afraid I’ve had it better? Mate, are you feeling inferior?”

“Shut the hell up, jagabat.”

“Make me.”

Adewale pushed Edward’s face into the pillows, sliding his cock into him again. He fed Edward’s ass long, deep strokes, keeping him short of breath smothered in the sheets. Being a diver, it took a lot to get Kenway squirming, but with the combined lack of air and thrusting he was soon writhing and trying to persuade Adewale to loosen up his death grip by grinding his ass against him. He started seeing stars, hitting the bed with his fists and trying to break free of his grip. When Edward’s struggling started dying out, Adewale finally released his grip, the blonde flipping his head to gasp for air, coughing, his ribcage heaving to take in as much as possible. He flinched when Ade placed his hands on his neck, purring, however, when Adewale began rubbing his shoulders soothingly, slowing his pace while he leaned down to kiss Edward’s neck. Edward clutched the sheets tightly, breathing heavily, Adewale touching his chest to his back. He bit his captain’s shoulder, making him moan and curl his fingers, reaching around to rub Adewale’s neck.

Adewale made is way to Edward’s erection, stroking him tentatively, still kissing him. Edward bit his lip, his breath at last caught, giggling like a school girl when his corner gaze met Ade’s.

“What is so funny, Edward?” Adewale asked, stopping briefly.

“I… I can’t believe how good you are at this, Ade,” he grinned, “Really, is there anything you’re bad at, mate?”

“Probably,” he said, going back to work on Edward.

“Mm… Great, you’re humble, too,” Edward said, his cock trembling like his fingertips.

Adewale stopped his smooching to nip at Edward’s skin again. Edward felt himself flush red, his heart beat quickening as he came once more, this time into his friend’s hand. He compressed Ade as he came, making Adewale embrace Edward as he came. Edward took the hand he came into and sucked on the fingers as he flipped onto his back when Adewale pulled out.

“God, you are nasty, Edward,” Adewale grimaced, taking his fingers out of Kenway’s mouth.

“Wha—? You made me do the same thing earlier, mate!” Edward pulled Adewale back on top of him. “What the hell’s the difference?”

“You did it twice, breddah, that is the difference,” he replied.

Edward rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

The two kissed, Ade clutching Edward as he rolled over, making him lay on top of him. He rubbed Edward’s lower back after the kiss, Edward nuzzling his head under Ade’s chin, listening to him breathe softly. His heart beat lulled the captain to sleep, his gentle hand soothing Edward’s sore back. Adewale settled his back into the mattress, softening his breathing as he too closed his eyes and drifted off.

Daylight trickled through the tall dusty windows, creating bright shapes on the men’s sleeping bodies. The glow shone over their eyes as tropical birds chirped outside, stirring Adewale from his sleep. He groaned, rubbing his eyes in his palms and looked down at the dreaming Edward. He smiled at the sight of the calm captain, brushing his locks from his face. Edward shifted slightly on Ade’s chest before opening his eyes, yawning, then grinning at him.

Edward put his head on his hands and sighed. “G’mornin’, Ade.”

“How are you feeling, Edward?” he asked.

“Heh, a little sore, but that’s nothing new,” Edward sat up and stretched his arms, sitting on Ade’s lap, mind you they were both still nude. “Honestly, mate, I feel I could go again.”

Adewale raised a brow as Edward rocked back over his groin. “Are… are you trying to set the mood again, cap’n?”

Edward simply smirked and shrugged, winking at him with his devious, icy eyes. “How ‘bout it?”

“It’s dawn, cap’n, the crew will be coming up here soon enough—”

“With the hangovers they gave themselves last night? We’ll be lucky if they show up before noon,” Edward let his hands explore Ade’s scarred torso before climbing to his neck, “and ‘sides, I told them last night to unload the frigates as soon as they arrive. We’ve time aplenty.”

“No, we do not, Edward,” Adewale removed Edward’s hands from his shoulders, holding him by the wrists. “They will see us if we start again.”

“Good for them.”

“Edward.”

“What if we closed the curtains, hm? And closed the door? And, if us not having time is what is bothering you, maybe we could switch positions, eh? We already learned, after all, that you last far longer than I do, mate,” Edward let Adewale hold his wrists while he desperately tried reasoning with him. “Or, I could ride you, or I could just suck you off again.”

The quartermaster shook his head. “Really, Edward? Are you in heat?”

Edward laughed. “No, I just like satisfaction and I know, mate, that we won’t get an opportunity like this once we’re on deck.”

“You have the captain’s quarters, Edward, we could do it in there.”

“On a dusty old desk? With creaky doors to keep back any noise? Ade, I’d rather a shark bite my cock off,” he grumbled.

“You sure ‘bout that?”

“Aye.”

Adewale tossed the idea around in his head of what Edward had said. “Fine, close the curtains. And the door. I do not want to do much so if you are riding me make it quick.”

Edward’s eyes lit up. “Oh, believe me, after yesterday I will be fast.”

“Charming.”

The captain immediately went to work, shutting the door and curtains, then returning to the bed to give Ade a hand job while kissing his clavicle. Edward let his free hand glide over Adewale’s bare chest, eventually stopping to pinch his nipples, making the larger man grunt. He blew in Edward’s ear, making him flinch, caressing the small of Edward’s back when Kenway moved down to suck Ade’s nipple. Adewale winced when Edward bit him but soon the pain faded to pleasure, his blood feeling like it was swirling in his body.

Ade gazed down at Edward, whose back arched, putting his rump on full display. He watched his body move in a lustful motion, eager to please, making gentle noises that almost came across as delight. Edward pulled back, going to blow Adewale instead of playing with his chest, but Adewale stopped him.

“Rot, what is it now, mate?” Edward growled, glaring up at him.

“I want you on top of me,” he replied.

This took Edward off guard. “You what?”

“I want you above me. I want us both to experience this, together.”

Stunned but nevertheless overjoyed, Edward clambered over Adewale, swinging his left leg to the other side of Ade’s neck. Kenway let his head hang down to look at his friend under him. He grinned, his blonde hair framing his face.

“How’s this, mate?” he asked.

“Almost,” Adewale yanked Edward’s pelvis down so his round ass was truly in full view, “perfect.”

Edward blinked in disbelief as the quartermaster put his tongue to his pink ring, teasing the skin between it and Edward’s scrotum with his left thumb, the right thumb stroking the soft ring’s skin. Kenway rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath, “And you said I was nasty.”

Regardless, Edward still put his lips to Adewale’s tip, pressing his tongue around the head’s rim. He slid his mouth down the shaft, the engorged cock reaching deep into the back of his throat. Edward groaned past the mouthful, feeling Ade twitching in his jaws, his own member getting excited from his lower half being toyed with. As for Adewale, he, too, was becoming increasingly turned on, holding Edward’s lower back with his forearm while still eating out his captain. He raised his hips slightly as to not choke Edward but still force him to take it further.

The two men began breathing heavier, moaning passionately as they came near coming. Edward made sure his mouth was around Adewale’s cock as to control the mess. Ade gripped Edward’s thighs as he came, his captain swallowing the milky liquid as it sprayed itself throughout his mouth. Edward pulled his mouth away from Adewale’s dick, making a victorious sucking noise that rattled the quartermaster’s ears. It irritated him, the sound more obnoxious from this angle. He moved his face away from licking him, driving his fingers into his wet ass to stroke Edward’s prostate. Edward moaned loudly, his elbows giving way, his hips bucking and his cock shooting white ropes onto Adewale’s chest to contrast his dark skin.

Adewale shoved Edward off of him to the side. “Are you satisfied now, cap’n?”

“Not quite, mate, I think the least I can do for you is clean up your chest,” Edward smiled.

He leaned over Ade, licking his chest free of the splatter. When he was done, Adewale shook his head. “Well, I have learned what your favorite ‘sauce’ is.”

“What? It came out of my body, mate.”

Edward sat on the edge of the bed, Adewale smacking his back after his last remark. Ade joined him, kissing him on the cheek then resting his head against Edward’s.

“I love ya, Ade,” Edward sighed with his eyes half shut.

“Feeling is mutual, cap’n,” Adewale said softly. The two stayed leaning against each other for a good while afore standing up. “Come on, I think we should get dressed now.”

“Aye, agreed.”

After they pulled on their pants and boots, footsteps were heard thumping across the hardwood floor. There was a single knock before two inferior crew members swung open the bedroom door.

“Capt—ah! You’re both here! Why?” one of the men asked with a furrowed brow, looking the shirtless men up and down.

Edward and Adewale made brief, nervous eye contact then Edward stated, “Well, last night Ade showed me how a blunderbuss worked and it was too late for him to head to the guest house so we slept in the same bed.”

“You… both laid in… the same bed?” one questioned.

Adewale huffed. “What, you think this bed is unreasonable for two men to sleep in?”

“The bed’s huge, lads,” Edward pointed out, ignoring the fact that last night they slept on each other.

“Ah, uh! Sorry, sirs!” the flustered sailors apologized. “We just came to let ye know we unloaded the frigates and are waitin’ for your word for what to do with the cargo.”

“Hmm, shall we, mate?” Edward grinned, looking to Ade.

Adewale nodded, pulling on his shirt and vest. “Aye. Let us go.”

The two crewmen led their superiors out of the estate. Just out of earshot, Adewale slapped Kenway’s ass hard. The captain turned, smirking, but shaking his head disapprovingly.

“Still enjoying the view, huh?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ade smiled cheekily. “Still against the idea of sex in the quarters?”

Edward chuckled then winked. “We’ll see.”

#what did you think i was joking #this is 11 pages in word #edward #adewale #edawale #ac4 #assassins creed #i dont fucking care anymore bro #im reposting this so i can read it in class #i write #i talk #its 1:23am #cool numbers #if something in this seemed like a pun it was #especially the getting off that easily #im especially proud of that one lol

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ooops-i-arted · 5 years

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Pre-TCW Legends!verse Rattataki Asajj Ventress in the Rebellion/OT Era.

You mean back when she was a badass??? Hell yes

To be fair we never saw her actually die in that incredibly amazing showdown with Anakin that showed how he was already gradually falling to the Dark Side better than any other tv show I could name AND with no dialogue even so it could happen, let’s go with that premise

I mean of course Palpatine wants to track down Dooku’s wayward pet, she was strong in the Force and he could use her, but Asajj will have NONE OF THAT and eludes him

Side note but she never meets Quinlan Vos at any time ever, solely because I was so scarred by the travesty that was Dark Disciple and neither of them deserved that

She makes her living in the Outer Rim as a show fighter. She can’t use her lightsabers anymore - too showy, too instantly recognizable - but she’s adaptable and she can figure out anything. She kicks ass in a lot of fight rings. She likes getting her anger out. I could see her being an occasional merc and/or bounty hunter too, and she likes the hunt well enough, but the fight is what makes her blood sing.

She doesn’t give a rat’s ass about the Rebellion or the Empire but somehow crosses paths with Luke and she knows he’s one of Anakin and Obi-Wan’s. She always crossed paths with them, fought them, hated them, and she knows that somehow he’s with them and decides to kill him.

You could do a lot there with Asajj crossing paths with the OT trio. Asajj hunting them and them not knowing why. Maybe they find out she’s a relic of the Old Republic era and try to meet with her on peaceful terms, maybe even thinking she’s a rogue Jedi who escaped the Purge who could offer them valuable info (and of course Luke is desperate for Jedi training/knowledge because there’s so little available). And then of course Asajj trying to figure out who Luke it, and learning that he’s the son and sort-of apprentice of her old enemies. In the end there’s a confrontation and of course the OT trio wins the day with the power of friendship and also blasters, but maybe Luke gets a little bit of the knowledge he craves. Or at least meets one person who knew his father as a Jedi. Maybe somehow he gets a little info out of Asajj in the end.

Alternatively, Mara learns that Asajj is trying to off her target, says “no mine” and they have an Awesome Epic Showdown of Awesomeness. Mara wins ofc but she certainly gets a run for her money.

In any case I love the idea of Asajj (the original one) hanging around the OT era. Even if she was just a background cameo and never met the big trio, I like the idea that she made it, escaped Palpatine, and can get herself a drink in cantinas by telling about the time she scarred Anakin Skywalker’s face.

#shine on you badass rattataki #lol can't even tell you how many times my sister and i playacted that jungle fight #asks #nerdtopia reborn

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easyfoodnetwork · 4 years

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The Best Cookbooks of Spring 2020

Dive into recipes from Melissa Clark, Nancy Silverton, Dominique Ansel, and more

When I first saw Lummi: Island Cooking, the new cookbook from Willows Inn chef Blaine Wetzel, I couldn’t help but pick it up. The book itself is wrapped in a rough but texturally pleasing yellow fabric, and the cover — a single deep-blue photograph affixed to the canvas — captivates. Inside, top-down photos of meticulously plated dishes fill entire pages and beg the question: What is that? And while I may never make the recipes for things like mushroom stews and marinated shellfish, they’re a window into a remote restaurant that I may never get to visit. Sure, I could find a few photos online, but a book that you hold in your hands carries weight — not just literally, but also in the way each page memorializes a recipe, dish, or moment in time.

The 15 titles here represent only a portion of the cookbooks on offer this spring, but they embody all of the qualities that make cookbooks worthy vehicles for imagination. There are debuts from chefs at the top of their game, and first-time restaurant cookbooks that may inspire you to host a clambake or make your own bubble tea. But there are plenty of cookbook veterans on this list, too, with contributions from Sami Tamimi (the non-Ottolenghi half of the duo behind Ottolenghi); pastry chef Dominique Ansel; and New York Times recipe maven Melissa Clark, whose recipes may dominate Google searches, but gain new dimension when they’re printed on a glossy page. — Monica Burton

The Phoenicia Diner Cookbook: Dishes and Dispatches from the Catskill Mountains

Mike Cioffi, Chris Bradley, Sara B. Franklin Clarkson Potter, out now

In 2011, Mike Ciofi did what many office workers spend their days dreaming about: He bid farewell to city life in favor of renovating and reinvigorating a roadside diner in the woodsy New York hamlet of Phoenicia. Today, Ciofi’s Phoenicia Diner is a hit among locals and tourists, as well as the Instagram glitterati that flocks in droves to sample the restaurant’s elevated diner fare and pose in the green vinyl booths. Though it might be a while before the rest of us achieve our own version of the Phoenicia Diner, it’s at least become easier for us to pretend with The Phoenicia Diner Cookbook, a collection of comfort-food recipes that make up the Ulster County hot spot’s celebrated menu. Try to make the renowned buttermilk pancakes on lazy Sunday morning, or enjoy a cozy night in with the chicken and chive dumplings. For lighter meals, the cookbook also includes a variety of fancy salads and some delicious-sounding vegetable preparations.

We live in uncomfortable times, but we still have comfort food — and our upstate escapist fantasies — to help us cope. So serve up some Phoenicia Diner recipes on enamel camping cookware, then curl up under a Pendleton (or Pendleton knock-off) blanket. It’s almost as good as the real thing. — Madeleine Davies

Eat Something: A Wise Sons Cookbook

Evan Bloom and Rachel Levin Chronicle Books, out now

Chef Evan Bloom of San Francisco’s Wise Sons Deli and former Eater SF restaurant critic Rachel Levin teamed up to write an unconventional book about Jews and Jewish food. From the first chapter, “On Pastrami & Penises,” which jokingly weighs the morals of circumcision, it’s clear they succeeded. There are a trio of pastrami dishes (breakfast tacos, carbonara, a reuben) to celebrate “the cut,” before the authors move on to recipes for other life events, from J Dating in “The Young-Adulting Years” section to Shivah’s Silver Lining in “The Snowbird Years.”

This isn’t the first book to combine Jewish food and Jewish humor (the two are practically inseparable), but it has the added benefit of being actually funny. Eat Something sounds less like a commandment from bubbe and more like a comedian egging on readers to whip up a babka milkshake at 3 a.m. or serve chopped liver to unknowing goyim in-laws.

The authors gladly admit the book won’t satisfy conservative tastes. Wise Sons serves updated takes on deli fare, like pastrami fries, pastrami and eggs, and a roasted mushroom reuben, and “The Kvetching Department” chapter reprints customer complaints about Wise Sons’ sins against real deli. Those readers can find rote recipes for matzo balls and kugel elsewhere. Eat Something is for readers, Jewish or not, who prefer matzoquiles to matzo brei and a bloody moishe (a michelada spiked with horseradish and brine) to a bloody mary. — Nicholas Mancall-Bitel

Dinner in French: My Recipes by Way of France

Melissa Clark Clarkson Potter, out now

Melissa Clark is an important figure in my home eating life. Her cookbook Dinner lives on my kitchen counter, while her pressure-cooker bible Dinner in an Instant has helped me get over my anxiety around using the intimidating Instant Pot I received as a wedding present a few years ago. Her recipes in those books and over at the New York Times are energetic and reliable. I’ve been eagerly awaiting this book since she announced it.

While I expected it to be a book of Clark’s favorite, tried-and-true French recipes, Dinner in French actually provides a guide to layering some French je ne sais quoi into the kinds of things you may well already love to eat. Instead of just mashing a microwaved sweet potato like I do a few times a week, Clark’s tempting me to make stretchy sweet potato pommes aligot with fried sage for a change. The translation flows in both directions. To a classic French omelet, Clark adds garlic and tahini and tops it with an herby yogurt sauce; she transforms ratatouille into a sheet-pan chicken dinner.

Dinner in French veers more into lifestyle territory than her reliable workhorse books. Shots of Clark living the good life in France — laughing at beautiful outdoor garden dining tables, shopping at the market, walking barefoot in a gorgeous farmhouse — are peppered throughout. Even if that’s not what I need from a Melissa Clark book, for all the work home cooks like me rely on her to do, she deserves a glam moment. — Hillary Dixler Canavan

The Boba Book: Bubble Tea and Beyond

Andrew Chau and Bin Chen Clarkson Potter, out now

What Blue Bottle did for coffee, Boba Guys did for boba. Since Andrew Chau and Bin Chen opened their first shop in San Francisco in 2013, the brand has grown to include 16 locations across the country. Along the way, the guys behind Boba Guys have redefined what it means to drink the popular Taiwanese tea with modern drinks that go beyond the traditional milk tea plus chewy tapioca balls to include items like strawberry matcha lattes and coffee-laced dirty horchatas.

The Boba Book includes step-by-step instructions for these specialties along with recommended toppings for each tea base. There’s also a separate chapter all about how to make toppings and add-ons from scratch, including grass jelly, mango pudding, and, of course, boba. While it’s likely many boba lovers have never even considered making their favorite drink at home, Chau and Chen’s simple directions prove all it takes is a little bit of dedication.

The Boba Book doesn’t offer a comprehensive history of boba; instead, it provides an impassioned argument for drinking boba now from Chau and Chin, who keep the tone friendly and conversational throughout. Colorful photos of drinks alongside pictures of Boba Guys’ fans, employees, friends, and family make the book feel like the brand’s yearbook. And even if there’s no interest in recreating the drinks at home, The Boba Book gives readers the best advice on getting the most enjoyment out of boba, including tips on how to achieve that perfect Instagram shot. — James Park

Ana Roš: Sun and Rain

Ana Roš Phaidon, March 25

Ana Roš is a chef on the rise. While not quite a household name in America, the Slovenia-based chef of Hiša Franko got the Chef’s Table treatment as well as plenty of attention from the World’s 50 Best List. She’s known for being an iconoclastic and self-taught chef.

As with so many fine dining restaurant books, this volume isn’t really meant to be cooked from at home. Roš seems to have gone into the process knowing that, so she avoids the standard headnote-recipe format. Instead, lyrical prose is frontloaded, taking up most of the book, with recipes for things like “deer black pudding with chestnuts and tangerines” or “duck liver, bergamot and riesling” stacked together with only the shortest of introductions at the end. Gorgeous, sweeping landscape photos of Slovenia coupled with gorgeous food photography, both by Suzan Gabrijan, provide a lush counterpoint to the text.

Rather than a guide to cooking like Roš, this is a testament to one chef’s life. There’s quite a bit of personal narrative, from Roš’s experiences with anorexia as an aspiring dancer to a meditation on killing deer inspired by her father’s hunting. And for fans of Chef’s Table, culinary trophy hunters, and/or lovers of travel photography, it’s worth a look. — HDC

Lummi: Island Cooking

Blaine Wetzel Prestel, April 7

The Willows Inn on Lummi Island is that specific kind of bucket-list restaurant that’s fetishized by fine dining lovers: isolated (the island sits two and a half hours and one ferry ride north of Seattle) and pricey ($225 for the tasting menu, not including the stay at the inn, a near prerequisite for snagging a reservation). I should find it irritating.

But the Willows Inn is also inherently of a place I have great affection for — the Pacific Northwest — and that’s captured beautifully in chef Blaine Wetzel’s Lummi: Island Cooking, a restaurant capsule of a cookbook that doesn’t feature the restaurant’s name in the title. Instead, the book is a survey of the ingredients farmed, foraged, and fished from the Puget Sound, a stunning taxonomy of salmonberries and spotted prawns, wild beach pea tips and razor clams. Several recipes quietly flaunt the inn’s reverence for the local bounty. Each in a quartet of mushroom stews involves just three ingredients: two kinds of mushrooms and butter; a recipe for smoked mussels simply calls for mussels, white wine, and a smoker.

The book, though, is really all about the visuals. Photographer Charity Burggraaf captures each striking dish from above on a flat-color background, and the bright pops of color and organic forms evoke brilliant museum specimens. Lummi: Island Cooking shows off the ingredients of the Pacific Northwest — and how in the hands of Wetzel and his team, they become worthy of this exacting kind of archive. — Erin DeJesus

My Korea: Traditional Flavors, Modern Recipes

Hooni Kim WW Norton, April 7

Hooni Kim’s debut cookbook, My Korea: Traditional Flavors, Modern Recipes, is part cookbook, part autobiography. Before he opened Korean-American restaurants Danji and Hanjan in New York City, Kim worked at prestigious fine dining institutions like Daniel and Masa, and as a result, he interprets Korean cuisine with French and Japanese techniques.

Over 13 chapters, Kim breaks down the fundamentals of creating Korean flavors, from where to buy essential pantry items to how to recognize the different stages of kimchi fermentation. The recipes themselves cover a wide range, from classic banchan and soups to technique-driven entrees, such as bacon chorizo kimchi paella with French scrambled eggs, and a recipe for braised short ribs (galbi-jjim) that uses a classic French red wine braise method Kim mastered while working at Daniel.

The focus of the book is less about cooking easy, weeknight dinner recipes, and more about understanding and applying Korean cooking philosophy. Throughout, Kim talks about the importance of jung sung, a Korean word for care, which also translates into cooking with heart and devotion. The chef’s jung sung in making this book is apparent as Kim provides foundational knowledge to make readers aware of Korean culture, beyond just knowing how to cook Korean food. — JP

Everyone Can Bake: Simple Recipes to Master and Mix

Dominique Ansel Simon & Schuster, April 14

I’ll get this out of the way from the get go: Dominique Ansel’s newest cookbook has nothing at all to do with the Cronut. In fact, rather than simply a book of recipes for the things you’ll find at the Dominique Ansel bakeries and dessert shops stationed around the world, it’s a manual for how to make just about any dessert the reader’s heart desires, whatever their skill level. With Everyone Can Bake, Ansel asserts that armed with the “building blocks of baking” he provides, baking is achievable for even the most intimidated novice.

This idea guides the book’s structure. It’s split into three sections of Ansel’s “go-to” recipes: bases (which includes cakes, cookies, brownies, meringue, and other batters and doughs); fillings (pastry cream, ganache, mousse, etc.); and finishings (buttercreams, glazes, and other toppings). A fourth section covers assembly and techniques, such as how to construct a tart or glaze a cake. Charts at the front of the book show how these four sections combine to make complete desserts. For example, almond cake + matcha mousse + white chocolate glaze + how to assemble a mousse cake = matcha passion fruit mousse cake; vanilla sablé tart shell + pastry cream = flan.

Although the book’s primary aim is to simplify baking for newcomers, the notion that creativity can arise from working within the boundaries of fundamental building blocks is a helpful lesson for any home baker. And whether they’re after just those fundamentals or the “showstoppers” that come later, they’re in good hands with Ansel’s Everyone Can Bake. — MB

Mosquito Supper Club: Cajun Recipes from a Disappearing Bayou

Melissa M. Martin Artisan, April 14

At Mosquito Supper Club, a tiny, 24-diners-per-night New Orleans restaurant that’s more like a big dinner party, chef and owner Melissa Martin keeps a shelf of spiral-bound Cajun cookbooks with recipes assembled by women’s church groups. “The cookbooks are timeless poetry and ambassadors for Cajun food,” Martin writes, “a place for women to record a piece of themselves.” Martin’s first cookbook, Mosquito Supper Club: Cajun Recipes from a Disappearing Bayou, belongs alongside them. It’s a well-written personal and regional history of a world literally disappearing before our eyes due to climate change: Every hour, the Gulf of Mexico swallows a football field’s worth of land in Louisiana.

But Mosquito Supper Club isn’t an elegy. It’s a celebration of contemporary New Orleans, a timeless glossary of Cajun cookery, and a careful, practical guide to gathering seasonal ingredients and preparing dishes from duck gumbo to classic pecan pie. Martin’s recipes are occasionally difficult and time-consuming — stuffed crawfish heads are a “group project” — but written with gentle encouragement (“Keep stirring!”) and an expert’s precision. And since Martin’s restaurant is essentially a home kitchen, her recipes are easily adapted to the home cook (though not all of us will have the same access to ingredients, like shrimp from her cousin’s boat in her small hometown of Chauvin, Louisiana). Still, Mosquito Supper Club is a cookbook you’re likely to use, and as a powerful reminder of what we’re losing to climate change, it’s a book we could all use, too. — Caleb Pershan

Trejo’s Tacos: Recipes & Stories From L.A.

Danny Trejo Clarkson Potter, April 21

Anyone not living in Los Angeles will likely still recognize Danny Trejo. Muscular and tattooed, with a mustache dipping down below the corners of his lips and dark hair tied back in a ponytail, he makes an impression in just about every role he’s played in his 300-plus film career, whether it’s as a boxer in Runaway Train, the gadget-loving estranged uncle in Spy Kids, or a machete-wielding vigilante for hire in Machete. But since 2016, Trejo has taken on a role outside of Hollywood: co-owner of a growing fleet of LA taquerias.

Trejo’s Tacos, the 75-year-old’s first cookbook, written with Hugh Garvey, is as much a tribute to his restaurant legacy as it is to Los Angeles, his lifelong home. The actor spent his childhood dreaming of opening a restaurant with his mother in their Echo Park kitchen. Years later, film producer Ash Shah would plant the seeds and vision for Trejo’s future taquerias, opened with a culinary team led by consulting chef Daniel Mattern. The cookbook is a reflection of what the actor calls “LA-Mexican food.” Readers will find all the Trejo’s Tacos greatest hits in the collection, including recipes for pepita pesto, mushroom asada burritos, and fried chicken tacos. The recipes are relatively simple and malleable — designed for home cooks who might want chicken tikka bowls one night and chicken tikka tacos the next. There’s even a recipe for nacho donuts.

Throughout, Trejo interjects with stories from his life in LA, like the time a security guard on the set of Heat recognized him from the time he used to rob customers at Bob’s Big Boy in Burbank. “I used to rob restaurants,” he writes in his new cookbook. “Today I own eight of them.” — Brenna Houck

Falastin: A Cookbook

Sami Tamimi and Tara Wigley Ten Speed, April 28

Sami Tamimi and co-author Tara Wigley are probably best known for their proximity to Israeli chef and columnist Yotam Ottolenghi. Tamimi is Ottolenghi’s longtime business partner and co-author of Ottolenghi and Jerusalem: A Cookbook. Wigley has collaborated with Ottolenghi on recipe writing since 2011. With Falastin, the pair are stepping out on their own for the first time as part of a rising chorus of voices celebrating Palestinian cuisine.

Falastin is the culmination of Tamimi’s lifelong “obsession” with Palestinian food. The Palestinian chef pays tribute to his mother and the home in East Jerusalem that he left to live in Tel Aviv and London, returning after 17 years. For Wigley, who grew up in Ireland, the book is about falling in love with the region and, particularly, shatta sauce (she’s sometimes referred to by her friends as “shattara”). However, the book isn’t about tradition. Tamimi and Wigley approach Falastin’s 110 recipes as reinterpretations of old favorites — something they acknowledge is an extremely thorny approach everywhere, and particularly given the highly politicized history of Palestine. Food, after all, isn’t just about ingredients and method; it’s also about who’s making it and telling its story.

To do this, Wigley and Taminmi instead take readers into Palestine, exploring the regional nuances of everything from the distinctive battiri eggplants, suited to being preserved and filled with walnuts and peppers for makdous, or the green chiles, garlic, and dill seeds used to prepare Gazan stuffed sardines. Along the way, they pause to amplify the voices of Palestinians, such as Vivien Sansour, founder of the Palestinian Seed Library. Keep plenty of olive oil, lemon, and za’atar on hand. It’s a colorful, thoughtful, and delicious journey. — BH

Bitter Honey: Recipes and Stories from Sardinia

Letitia Clark Hardie Grant, April 28

At first glance, Bitter Honey seems like an outsider’s fantasy of Sardinia. British author Letitia Clark moved to the island with her Sardinian (now ex-) boyfriend, looking to escape Brexit and embrace a slower, more beautiful way of life. The book’s warm photography and indulgent descriptions of olive oil seem the stuff of an Under the Sardinian Sun romp. But then, it suddenly becomes real. In the introduction, she speaks of plastic Tupperware and paper plates and blaring TVs, and in stories throughout the book, she gives a more honest depiction of modern, everyday life in Sardinia.

Clark’s recipes are all about achievable fantasy, with some coming directly from her boyfriend’s family and some that are admitted riffs on Nigella Lawson recipes. But all include the island’s staple flavors and ingredients, like pork in anchovy sauce, fried sage leaves, saffron risotto, and culurgionis (essentially Sardinian ravioli) stuffed with potato, mint, cheese, and garlic. Clark describes Sardinian food as a “wilder” version of Italian cooking, something less refined and more visceral. The book is a great way to expand your regional palate, though you’ll have to source your own bottarga and pane carasau. — Jaya Saxena

The Vegetarian Silver Spoon: Classic & Contemporary Italian Recipes

Phaidon, April 29

The essential, 70-year-old Italian cookbook Il cucchiaio d’argento, known as The Silver Spoon in English, gets a plant-based update in The Vegetarian Silver Spoon, forthcoming from Phaidon. Boasting more than 200 vegetarian and vegan recipes, it’s a welcome addition to the library of Silver Spoon spinoffs in a time when diners are cutting back on meat consumption, whether for health, environmental, or animal welfare reasons. While some patrons of red-sauce Italian-American restaurants may exclusively associate the cuisine with weighty meatballs and rich, meaty sauces, as written in the book’s introduction, “the Italian diet has never centered on meat”; rather, home-style cooking “more often revolves around substantial vegetarian dishes like grains or stews.”

Across eight chapters — which are organized by dish, moving from lighter to heavier flavors — classic recipes like pizza bianca mingle with more regional specialties like Genovese minestrone, as well as less traditional fare like vegetable fried rice, demarcated with an icon of “CT” for “contemporary tastes” (other icons distinguish dairy-free, gluten-free, vegan, “30 minutes or less,” and “5 ingredients or fewer”). In this book, the writing is clear, the photos inviting, and above all, the sheer breadth of tasty-sounding dishes encyclopedic enough that any level of cook can find something to make. For fans of Italian cuisine, it’s impossible to flip through the pages without salivating, vegetarian or not. — Jenny G. Zhang

Chi Spacca: A New Approach to American Cooking

Nancy Silverton Knopf, April 30

For home cooks, restaurant cookbooks usually serve as half archive, half inspiration, but Los Angeles chef Nancy Silverton writes ambitious recipes a home cook looking to grow (or flex) actually wants to try. The Chi Spacca cookbook, written by Silverton, Ryan DeNicola, and Carolyn Carreño, will fuel fantasies of massive slabs of meat seasoned with fennel pollen on the grill, served with salads of thinly shaved vegetables and a butterscotch budino for dessert.

Chi Spacca is the newest of Silverton’s three California-Italian restaurants clustered together in what locals call the Mozzaplex, and it’s decidedly meat focused (Chi Spacca means “he or she who cleaves” and is another word for butcher in Italian). One of the restaurant’s most famous dishes is a beef pie with a marrow bone sticking out of the middle, like the tentpole of a carnivorous circus. That recipe is in the book. So is one for the restaurant’s distinctive focaccia di Recco, a round, flaky, cheese-filled focaccia, which, according to a step-by-step photo tutorial, involves stretching the dough from the counter all the way down to the floor before folding it over into a copper pan. There’s a recipe for homemade ’nduja, a section of thorough grilling advice, and more precisely composed salads than 10 trips to the farmers market could possibly support.

What’s really wonderful about the book, however, is the way it mixes serious ambition with practical advice and tons of context. Silverton explains the inspiration and authorship of every dish, and in those headnotes reveals the extent to which Chi Spacca, for all its Tuscan butchery pedigree, is a deeply Californian restaurant. Reference points range from Park’s BBQ in Koreatown to trapped-in-amber steakhouse Dal Rae to the traditions of Santa Maria barbecue. And the recipes always consider the cook. My favorite headnote, for a persimmon salad, says, “The recipe for candied pecans makes twice what you need for this salad. My thought is that if you’re going to go to the effort to make them, there should be some for the cook to snack on.” Entirely correct. — Meghan McCarron

Eventide: Recipes for Clambakes, Oysters, Lobster Rolls, and More From a Modern Maine Seafood Shack

Arlin Smith, Andrew Taylor, Mike Wiley, and Sam Hiersteiner Ten Speed, June 2

Eventide Oyster Co., named one of the best restaurants in New England by restaurant critic Bill Addison, embodies everything a Maine seafood shack should be — a casual place to sit down to slurp shellfish and eat fried seafood with friends and family. Since opening in Portland, Maine, in 2012, and despite accolades and expansion, it’s managed to retain that convivial feel. Now co-owners Arlin Smith, Andrew Taylor, and Mike Wiley, along with writer Sam Hiersteiner, have created a breezy cookbook for easy entertaining and coastal-inspired cooking.

With 120 recipes, accompanied by visual how-tos and guides on how to properly prepare seafood and shellfish, Eventide offers enough insight to make any home cook feel comfortable assembling an amazing raw bar or hosting a full New England clambake. The book even gets into less-traditional ways to use seafood as the basis for celebratory meals, with recipes for oysters with kimchi rice, halibut tail bo ssam, and the restaurant’s famed brown butter lobster rolls. And although seafood dominates, the authors of Eventide include alternatives to satisfy anyone, like the restaurant’s burger, a smoked tofu sandwich, potato chips and puffed snacks, plus a blueberry lattice pie for dessert. Whether or not you live by the coast, Eventide is the perfect spring cookbook to help you prepare to turn your kitchen into a New England oyster bar this summer. — Esra Erol

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from Eater - All https://ift.tt/3bliuEe https://ift.tt/3drkTiI

Dive into recipes from Melissa Clark, Nancy Silverton, Dominique Ansel, and more

The Phoenicia Diner Cookbook: Dishes and Dispatches from the Catskill Mountains

Mike Cioffi, Chris Bradley, Sara B. Franklin Clarkson Potter, out now

Eat Something: A Wise Sons Cookbook

Evan Bloom and Rachel Levin Chronicle Books, out now

Dinner in French: My Recipes by Way of France

Melissa Clark Clarkson Potter, out now

The Boba Book: Bubble Tea and Beyond

Andrew Chau and Bin Chen Clarkson Potter, out now

Ana Roš: Sun and Rain

Ana Roš Phaidon, March 25

Lummi: Island Cooking

Blaine Wetzel Prestel, April 7

My Korea: Traditional Flavors, Modern Recipes

Hooni Kim WW Norton, April 7

Everyone Can Bake: Simple Recipes to Master and Mix

Dominique Ansel Simon & Schuster, April 14

Mosquito Supper Club: Cajun Recipes from a Disappearing Bayou

Melissa M. Martin Artisan, April 14

Trejo’s Tacos: Recipes & Stories From L.A.

Danny Trejo Clarkson Potter, April 21

Falastin: A Cookbook

Sami Tamimi and Tara Wigley Ten Speed, April 28

Bitter Honey: Recipes and Stories from Sardinia

Letitia Clark Hardie Grant, April 28

The Vegetarian Silver Spoon: Classic & Contemporary Italian Recipes

Phaidon, April 29

Chi Spacca: A New Approach to American Cooking

Nancy Silverton Knopf, April 30

Eventide: Recipes for Clambakes, Oysters, Lobster Rolls, and More From a Modern Maine Seafood Shack

Arlin Smith, Andrew Taylor, Mike Wiley, and Sam Hiersteiner Ten Speed, June 2

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#Blogger #cooking #Eater #food #recipes

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thoughtsofanexcitedspacechild · 4 years

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The Effect of Modern SW Characters:

So I saw this post the other day that I found on Pinterest about the Mandalorian. It mentioned how his character is refreshing because one of his character traits is that he willingly accepts help. I completely agreed with that post and it got me thinking of other characters in the SW universe and how utterly stellar the representation has been in the past couple of years while all the new stuff is coming out. Now DISCLAIMER for the gatekeepers and toxic fans that read this: I do know for a fact that the representation in the films could be better and that most the main protagonists are white. This post does not signify that the representation in Star Wars is perfect, and it could definitely be better. That being said, there have been efforts to include more representation in the films and shows, not just in race but in so many other areas as well! Let me just list some of the other things that this new generation of Star Wars fans will grow up with that will have a positive impact:

They grew up seeing a female led Star Wars narrative with the sequels, and not only that, but she’s human and has flaws and yet still is a leader and saves the day. Princess Leia was great, but there’s a huge difference in her and Rey. This generation will grow up seeing a female Jedi, and that’s important.

They grew up watching Star Wars Rebels, which is a Star Wars story, but with a family. Given, they aren’t related, but families come in all shapes and sizes. We get to see a different dynamic and yes there are father, mother, and sibling figures in the trilogy and other stuff, but this really takes it to a whole different level. We’re used to seeing the mentor/student approach but here we see a true family dynamic with siblings for Gods sake. They grew up watching a family bond and be together and lift each other up and that’s important.

They grew up watching a very racially diverse cast in the movies. In the new trilogy, two members of the new iconic trio aren’t white! Again, I’m not saying it’s perfect, but it’s still better than where we started! They grew up seeing Poe, Cassian, Din (Mando), Rose, Janna, and Finn, who are all of color and who are all main characters, and that’s important.

They grew up seeing the Mandalorian accept help and be kind. He doesn’t kill mercilessly and even though yes, he does kill people, he doesn’t do it if he doesn’t have to. We see him take care of the child at any cost and even go as far as to adopt him. We see him readily accept help from Kuiil multiple times and each time he offers to repay him generously. Yes, the Mandalorian does kill people and bounty hunt, but that’s kind of in his job description. They grew up seeing a well mannered and kind male character and that’s important.

They grew up watching emotional trauma and inner conflict, both of which are heavy topics to deal with. We see that Ben Solo has been emotionally manipulated and practically as broken as the kyber crystal inside his saber. We see Ben Solo learn to love again, even if he has a bad way of showing it. I know that “Reylo” in and of itself is a controversial topic, and we definitely see that at first, Rey and Ben’s relationship is toxic to say the least. The signs are all there, and I’m not saying that this part in the story was good at all, and I think it was a bad choice on the writer’s part to include lines like “Stop looking through my head”, “You know I can take whatever I want”, “I’m not giving you anything” and “We’ll see” if they had plans for them to end up together in the end. (I really would’ve liked to see more of the understanding, gentle and tall stuff that Adam mentions in that one iconic interview lol.) But even with all that (and I’m not saying that this is an excuse for what he did, because it’s still really bad) we gotta keep in mind that Ben has been told what to do and manipulated by snoke aka palpatine. What I think is important is that after Rey and Ben defeat Snoke, Ben offers her his hand. What a lot of people miss here is that he’s not asking her to join the dark side, he’s asking her to create a new order. Rey sees though that this is still coming from a dark place, and refuses. Ben then goes back to the only thing he knows, which is the dark. What really changes him is when Rey stabs him and she force heals him, but his physical healing I believe is also a metaphor for starting to heal what was between them. “I wanted to take your hand, Ben’s hand” here meaning that she doesn’t want to join him if it’s coming from a bad place. He then makes peace with his father (albeit in memory form) and that’s what seals the deal for him. That saber gets yeeted into the water. He’s ready to move on from his toxic past and help Rey. That’s personally why I like his character so much is because he was able to change through true love, understanding and companionship. When Rey dies, he sacrifices himself for her because he knows what he did is terrible and here we see that he really truly does love her. It’s also why I support the “Ben Solo deserved better” movement because he did! I wish we could’ve seen him grow closer with Rey and be able to make other friends too. I wish we could’ve watched him have a happy future and maybe even children and watch him heal from finding the things that make him truly happy. This generation will see a character heal through true love and that is important!!!

Sorry for the long post, but I just feel like it had to be said!

#star wars

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instantdeerlover · 4 years

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The Best Cookbooks of Spring 2020 added to Google Docs

The Best Cookbooks of Spring 2020

Dive into recipes from Melissa Clark, Nancy Silverton, Dominique Ansel, and more

The Phoenicia Diner Cookbook: Dishes and Dispatches from the Catskill Mountains

Mike Cioffi, Chris Bradley, Sara B. Franklin

Clarkson Potter, out now

Eat Something: A Wise Sons Cookbook

Evan Bloom and Rachel Levin

Chronicle Books, out now

Dinner in French: My Recipes by Way of France

Melissa Clark

Clarkson Potter, out now

The Boba Book: Bubble Tea and Beyond

Andrew Chau and Bin Chen

Clarkson Potter, out now

Ana Roš: Sun and Rain

Ana Roš

Phaidon, March 25

Lummi: Island Cooking

Blaine Wetzel

Prestel, April 7

My Korea: Traditional Flavors, Modern Recipes

Hooni Kim

WW Norton, April 7

Everyone Can Bake: Simple Recipes to Master and Mix

Dominique Ansel

Simon & Schuster, April 14

Mosquito Supper Club: Cajun Recipes from a Disappearing Bayou

Melissa M. Martin

Artisan, April 14

Trejo’s Tacos: Recipes & Stories From L.A.

Danny Trejo

Clarkson Potter, April 21

Falastin: A Cookbook

Sami Tamimi and Tara Wigley

Ten Speed, April 28

Bitter Honey: Recipes and Stories from Sardinia

Letitia Clark

Hardie Grant, April 28

The Vegetarian Silver Spoon: Classic & Contemporary Italian Recipes

Phaidon, April 29

Chi Spacca: A New Approach to American Cooking

Nancy Silverton

Knopf, April 30

Eventide: Recipes for Clambakes, Oysters, Lobster Rolls, and More From a Modern Maine Seafood Shack

Arlin Smith, Andrew Taylor, Mike Wiley, and Sam Hiersteiner

Ten Speed, June 2

via Eater - All https://www.eater.com/cookbooks/2020/3/24/21176592/best-cookbooks-spring-2020-melissa-clark-nancy-silverton-dominique-ansel

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celebritylive · 4 years

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For three days in Nashville, it was a country music glutton’s feast of performers: Luke Bryan, Carrie Underwood, Garth Brooks, Miranda Lambert, Kenny Chesney, Keith Urban, Reba McEntire, Dierks Bentley, Eric Church, Florida Georgia Line, Lady Antebellum.

Was there any reason to complain? Well, maybe that Chris Stapleton did fail to show up, but he had a good excuse with three of his five kids down with the flu.

Otherwise, the artist lineups had the sparkliest shine at Country Radio Seminar, the broadcasting convention held last Wednesday through Friday. CRS offers artists and labels the annual opportunity for one-stop radio promotion: to break news, to introduce new music and to boost songs already charting.

No doubt the biggest industry news was label hopscotching by two superstars: Tim McGraw, who recently split from Sony, was the jaw-dropping surprise at Big Machine’s luncheon on Friday, returning to the company where he’d made himself at home from 2012 to 2017; he didn’t perform at the event, but he’s set to release a new single soon and will tour this summer. Reba McEntire’s appearance was the shocker at Team UMG’s revue at Ryman Auditorium on Thursday. Emigrating from Big Machine to her original label, Universal Music Group, she rewarded her audience with a trio of classics: “How Blue,” “And Still” and “Fancy.”

Kenny Chesney, who jumped from Sony to Warner Music a couple of years ago, appeared at Warner’s luncheon on Wednesday to receive the artist humanitarian award from the Country Radio Broadcasters. He was honored for his bountiful charitable efforts, including donating all proceeds, more than $1.1 million, from his 2018 album, Songs for the Saints, to Hurricane Irma relief. Chesney kept any new music under wraps, instead performing crowd-pleasers “Save It for a Rainy Day,” “When The Sun Goes Down” and “Get Along.”

RELATED: After Losing His Own Dog, Kenny Chesney Helped Save 1,400 Animals in the Year Following Hurricane Irma

Since CRS offers a captive audience of radio’s decision-makers, it’s often the moment when new songs are premiered.

This time around, Keith Urban advanced his new single, “God Whispered Your Name” — a luscious R&B-tinged love song with an outro “hallelujah” chorus — that the rest of the world will hear on Thursday.

Just back from two months of surfing, Kip Moore brought his current single, “She’s Mine,” out to play for a verse and a chorus before effortlessly segueing into “Janie Blu,” a soulful heartbreaker probably destined for his next album.

Hard at work on their next project, the Brothers Osborne delivered a first-time performance of “Skeletons,” with trademark guitar licks and a driving “It Ain’t My Fault” beat.

Sam Hunt didn’t bring a hip, hop or click track with him, but he did arrive at UMG’s event with three acoustic guitarists to help him deliver a surprisingly traditional “three chords and the truth” country ballad. Solemn and mournful, “2016” is steeped in regret (“I thought I wanted my freedom / I told myself I’d have a ball / But it turns out goin’ out and chasin’ / Dreams and lonely women / Ain’t freedom after all”). Surely it has some real-life inspiration, considering his well-documented reconciliation that year with girlfriend Hannah Lee Fowler, whom he married in 2017. Hunt’s new album, Southside, is due out April 3.

Kelsea Ballerini also surprised by going traditional in a completely different direction, adding her first-ever drinking song to her catalog. “Hole in the Bottle,” debuting at Amazon Music’s showcase, features a lot of the same tongue-in-cheekiness of Ballerini’s “I Hate Love Songs”: “There’s a hole in the bottle / Leakin’ all this wine / It’s already empty/ It ain’t even suppertime.” (Ballerini takes her country vibe only so far: The bottle holds Cabernet, not whiskey.) The song is sure to show up on her third album, dropping March 20.

At the end of an hour-long Q&A covering his life and career, Eric Church premiered one of 28 songs he’d completed in an astonishing 28-day marathon, in which he wrote and recorded a song a day. Perhaps to be titled, “Jenny,” the high-spirited love song comes with lots of renegade spirit.

RELATED: Who Is That Unmasked Man? Without His Trademark Shades, Eric Church Talks Career, Drive and That Outlaw Image

Still looking for a career-breakout hit, Mickey Guyton delivered a searing debut of “What Are You Gonna Tell Her.” The freshly penned ballad is a bracing dose of reality to young girls with big dreams — a timely message that may be a hard sell to country radio, but the ecstatic reception by the crowd at the UMG event clearly signaled it deserves a national audience.

Other up-and-comers with new music, some just released, also drew attention: Sami Bearden, Savana Santos and Sam Backoff — the girls-next-door trio Avenue Beat — showed they’re blazing their own trail with an infectious song like “Ruin That For Me,” which goes to radio March 23. Travis Denning brought a welcome helping of merriment with new release “ABBY” (which stands for “anybody but you”). At Big Machine’s luncheon, Payton Smith auditioned to be the next country-rock god with a four-song set, including upcoming debut single, “Like I Knew You Would.”

RELATED: Five Things to Know About Travis Denning, Country’s New Go-To Guy for a Good Time

Caylee Hammack was at her storytelling best with new single, the autobiographical “Small Town Hypocrite” (though she might have to find another four-letter word to rhyme with “hypocrite” to get it on terrestrial radio). Danielle Bradbery’s two brand-new ballads, ““Girls In My Hometown” and “Never Have I Ever,” reminded listeners of the crystalline voice that was The Voice on that TV show’s fourth season.

Luke Bryan prepped listeners for his seventh album, out April 24, by performing recently released title cut, “Born Here, Live Here, Die Here.” Carrie Underwood, a newcomer at the UMG event, offered an acoustic version of album cut “Spinning Bottles” and duetted with Urban on their No. 1 hit, “The Fighter.”

Dierks Bentley showed up as Hot Country Knights frontman Doug Douglason in his bad wig and (yikes) a crop-top T-shirt; he and his ’90s-throwback band threw down their new single, “Pick Her Up.” Florida Georgia Line and Lady Antebellum both did victory laps, delivering sets of selected hits at the Big Machine event. Miranda Lambert topped an hour-long Q&A with two Wildcard cuts, “Dark Bars” and “How Dare You Love.” And Garth Brooks turned in an 11-song set of covers and his own hits at CRS’s annual songwriters event.

RELATED: Miranda Lambert Dishes on a Freaky Fan Encounter, Dog-Discipline Magic and Her Husband’s Favorite Song Request

Five fresh talents — Ingrid Andress, Morgan Evans, Riley Green, Runaway June and Mitchell Tenpenny — were voted by broadcasters to be the 2020 class of CRS’s “New Faces,” and each was rewarded with short sets on the final night of the conference. Their stage performances proved they’re all just as riveting to the eyes as the ears, and each amply proved the power of the personal.

Andress drew a standing ovation for her top 15-and-climbing “More Hearts Than Mine,” inspired by real life. The loss of loved ones brought out the emotional depth in three artists: Evans’ “Things That We Drink To” was dedicated to his late manager, Rob Potts; Tenpenny performed “Walk Like Him,” inspired by his late father; and Green wrenched hearts with his career-defining “I Wish Grandpas Never Died.” And though Naomi Cooke, Jennifer Wayne and Hannah Mulholland of Runaway June didn’t write “We Were Rich,” they made that looking-back song their own with a stirring delivery.

from PEOPLE.com https://ift.tt/2T63nbD

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spellsword-archer · 6 years

Text

Aar do faal Diil [Pt. 1]

Whiterun was a nice enough city, though it wasn't one Marcurio would ever trade for Riften (Thieves Guild and all).

He'd visited the central city of Skyrim once or twice before, following clients who had business there, or who were passing through. He'd never stayed longer than a day or two, before, but it had been at least three days since he'd walked through those main gates, this time.

His latest visit was courtesy of his most recent employer, an Altmer by the name of Tarene, who had wanted to stop and pay a visit to a mutual friend of theirs.

A Khajiit who made a living hunting bounties, Azaron had been one of Marcurio's previous employers, and had recommended the mage to his partner, Tarene. He had recently returned to Jorvaskrr to rejoin the guild he'd left some years previously, and word of his success had prompted Tarene to plan a detour in between their usual dungeon-delving. They had hired a carriage from Solitude to Whiterun, and had arrived early on a chilly Sun's Dusk Tirdas. Marcurio had never thought too highly of warriors like the Companions, and many of them held a general distain for magic users like himself, which made the first few hours in Jorvaskrr quite uncomfortable. As noontide came and went, however, and the mead kept flowing, the tension began to ease, and the alcohol washed away what was left of it by evening. At least, for the mage it did. Towards the end of the night, a fight had broken out between Tarene and one of the Companions. Marcurio wasn't too clear on the details because his head hadn't been too clear by then, but by morning, Tarene was gone, and one of the newbloods was sporting a black eye and a broken nose. Azaron had assured him that Tarene would return within a few days, and claimed that he had been called away by the Greybeards. Marcurio had no room to question this, for a courier could have very well shown up in the late night/early morning, and he wouldn't have noticed. However, after only one day of lounging around Jorvaskrr, Azaron had also left. Marcurio put himself up at the Bannered Mare, and hung around the Companion's building during the day, waiting for either the Khajiit or the Altmer to return.

The Companions themselves came and went on their missions (or 'hunts' as they called them), and one or two of the newbloods approached him about Restoration magic…which he was happy to teach. He got some gold, and they learned a new way to keep from dying while on the job. It was a win-win. On the third day, Azaron returned to Whiterun, with another mercenary in tow.

Introduced as Vorstag, the Nord was a Markarth local who preferred heavy armor and one handed weapons. Not Marcurio's first choice for a companion, but the man seemed trustworthy enough. It wasn't until noon that Azaron actually came around Jorvaskrr, and pulled Marcurio to the side to speak with him. The Khajiit had admitted that he was worried about Tarene - there had been no word from the elf nor the Greybeards since he'd left, despite a promise to send word when he arrived. Azaron wanted to go up the mountain,to make sure all was well, and offered to pay Marcurio to join them. They left that night, taking a carriage to Ivarstead, and arriving on the noon of the next day. Azaron had immediately led the way through town and across the river, to the start of the seven-thousand steps, insisting that they could reach the isolated monastery at the top by nightfall. Marcurio and Vorstag had traded doubtful looks - neither of them were too keen on the idea of spending a cold night halfway up a mountain, in blowing snow, with frost trolls and ice wraiths and wolves prowling about - but they had both begun to follow Azaron. It's what he was paying them for, after all. They saw only a few people as they headed up the sacred steps - a hunter here, a pilgrim there - and after a while, all they encountered was the occasional wildlife, such as a goat, or a wolf. They were lucky enough to not run into the more vicious creatures that prowled Skyrim's higher altitudes, even as they climbed higher and higher, and the sun's light faded more and more. They made surprisingly good time, and as the last of the sun sank below the distant horizon, the icy walls of High Hrothgar were within view. The trio paused in the shelter of the doorway's deep alcove, where they could stand out of the wind, and blow some life back into their hands at long last. "Let me do the talking." Azaron spoke up. It was the first time he had done so since they had started their trek up the mountain (the entire trip had been undertaken in a relatively tense silence). "The Greybeards are not known for their hospitality to outsiders…but these circumstances necessitate a bit of change." Marcurio raised an eyebrow. Exactly what circumstances were those, now? He was well aware that Azaron was a bit….well, 'clingy'…around those he was close to, so it wasn't entirely strange that he was worried about Tarene after a three day silence.

But the mage was starting to get the feeling that something had occurred that first night in Whiterun….something that he wasn't being told about. He held his tongue, however, as Azaron pushed open the heavy doors of the monastery, and led them inside. The air within High Hrothgar was just as sharp and cold as the air beyond its walls. However, it lacked the biting wind that made the mountainside so dangerous, and the torches in their sconces lent at least some heat to the atmosphere. Three old men stood on the open floor of the main hall, listening to one of their number whisper something. The whispers ceased the moment Azaron stepped out of the main hallway and into the floor, and two of the men turned and left, leaving the third to face the trio. Arngeir regarded Marcurio and Volstag with looks of quiet suspicion before turning to Azaron. "You come because of the silence, Dragonborn." The man kept his voice soft, as it echoed off the high ceilings of the monastery, and sounded as loud as the average man's voice. "And by the company you've brought, you suspect the worse of it." Azaron's ears swiveled back, and he bowed his head respectfully. "The incident at Jorvaskrr raised my suspicious…" The Khajiit admitted. Marcurio again tossed him a look of quiet confusion. What incident? "But Tarene admitted to me that he has been feeling….feeling strange for at least a month. We brought this problem to you before, but we were beginning to doubt it should be so pronounced." He explained. The old Greybeard nodded his head. "Ah, yes..the 'bleeding' effect. History claims that this is normal, for the Dragonborn…but you are correct. It should not be occurring to such a degree." He must have caught sight of the confused looks Azaron was getting behind his back, for he continued with, "I believe you have a little explaining to do to your companions. If you plan to involve them in this, then they deserve to know what they may be getting into." With that, Arngeir turned and walked away, and Azaron turned to face Vorstag and Marcurio. "So this has to do with this 'slipping' thing Tarene told me about earlier?" Marcurio spoke up before the Khajiit could begin. "He said something about the dragons becoming a part of his soul." Azaron sighed, and nodded. Vorstag looked back and forth between the two for a moment. "Well, we all seem to be on the same page, then." He realized. "You have explained this 'bleeding' to me before," He reminded Azaron. "Though you did not mention that it was growing to be a problem." "It is not-" Azaron stopped himself mid-sentence, and gritted his teeth for a moment. "…it was not a problem. Not until recently." He explained. "I have absorbed many more dragon souls than Tarene. If only a few souls were enough to affect him as such, then I should have been acting the same. Something else is at work." The Khajiit's tail lashed from side to side. "I advised Tarene to travel here because I thought the Greybeards would be able to assist him. I thought that, perhaps, meditation, or more training, was all he needed." "I assume, from the general atmosphere of this place, that it didn't work?" Marcurio replied. Azaron's ears tilted back, and he shook his head. He could not believe that…not yet. The consequences should he be wrong were frightening to even entertain. "That is correct, unfortunately." Arngeir spoke up from the far side of the room. His back was to them as he leafed through a book, but his voice carried clearly. "We meditated for two days, but the problem continued to grow." He closed the book and turned to look back at the trio, making eye contact with a surprised Azaron. "We even sent him to our Grand Master…but he returned a mere six hours later, and then disappeared from the outer courtyard just last night. We do not know what went on, nor where he went." "Why did you not tell me this sooner?!" Azaron growled, his voice echoing loudly throughout the building. "Tarene could be in danger-" "He is in danger, Dovahkiin," Arngeir replied with more force in his tone, and the dragons' word caused a rumble in the air that made even Vorstag stumble. Azaron pinned his ears back, and quieted in the face of the Greybeard's authority. "But the manner of the danger is not yet known. If you rush headlong into trouble this time, the world may lose both of its Dragonborn, and all of its hope." The old man finished. Azaron did not respond, turning his eyes to the floor, and a long silence fell over the room. "….if your Grand Master was the last to see Tarene, then he must know more of what happened." Vorstag suggested. The Khajiit's ears sprang forward, and he looked up eagerly. "Yes, yes," He nodded decisively. "Paarthunax may know….you two wait here, and I will journey to speak with him." Azaron turned abruptly and hurried across the room, up the stairs on the other side, and out the courtyard doors. Vorstag and Marcurio moved to follow, but Arngeir stepped in front of them. "I apologize, but only members of our order or a Dragonborn may see our Grand Master." He informed them. "You two may stay here until the Dragonborn returns…" Outside, Azaron ran across the courtyard, his foot claws scraping for purchase against the ice as he raced up the steps. As he drew a long, deep breath, a power began to build up in his throat, finally lancing forward in a powerful Thu'um that split the normally impassable clouds that guarded the Grand Master of the Greybeards from unwanted intrusion. "Lok Vah Koor!" Several times, this Thu'um rang out, shaking the air and breaking like thunder as it cleared the path to the top of the Throat of the World. By the time the final wall of mist had cleared, Azaron was dragging great gasps of air, his throat all but hoarse from shouting, yet determined not to slow his pace. As he climbed up the last hill, he spotted a great dark shape sitting atop a carved stone wall. This shape shifted, and then unfurled as the Khajiit came closer, spreading its wings to grip the stone wall for better balance. "Drem Yol Lok, Dovahkiin…" Paarthunax greeted as the panting Khajiit slowed to a stop. "You come to me ko faas. In fear. You worry for hin fron ko grah. Your kin in battle." The old dragon predicted. Azaron slowly nodded his head, still racing to regain his breath. "I am afraid the safety of your kin is ko lot loan. In great question. When he came to me he was ni okmaar. Not himself. There was something else ko ok rii. In his essence." The Khajiit dipped his ears in confusion. "Something else…" He repeated warily, his mind turning back to an occurrence within a Falkreath ruin that a gleeful (and admittedly drunk) Imperial had recounted to him some four nights ago. "Like another mind?" Was it possible that the undead mage of the cairn in Falkreath's forests still lived (so to speak)? "One of kruziik suleyk. Ancient power." Paarthunax bowed his head affirmatively. "I am afraid your kin has fallen as its zaam. Its slave." Azaron bared his teeth in frustration. "Then the spirit of Valundre still lives." He growled. "We thought him destroyed within his own tomb." Paarthunax hummed softly. "Sadly, it appears that is ni vahzah. Not true." He stated. Azaron's tail lashed as he paced back and forth in the snow. "Then Valundre has stolen Tarene's body, and left with it." He concluded with a growing sense of dread. He should not have let Tarene journey here alone. "But where could he have gone?" He wondered out loud, realizing with a jolt that he knew nothing about this strange new force, how it would act, or what it would do. "There are whispers…far ko faal brom. To the north." Paarthunax replied. "A dragon priest of the old ages lies buried there…perhaps this gaaf, this ghost, seeks to claim that power?" He suggested. "It would not be below the motives of a Nord of old." "That it would not…" Azaron muttered under his breath. His tail lashed back and forth in the snow as he turned into his thoughts, struggling to figure out the right course of action. He did not want to fight his brother at arms, but if Valundre held Tarene within his grasp, then he may have no choice. "You seek a way to free your brother with nid so. No sorrow." Paarthunax read the atmosphere like an open book. "There is a way to do so…but you will need to seek the werid, the praise, of one who is not of our world." "….a Divine?" Azaron guessed. Paarthunax hummed. "Or a Daedra. Both possess the power you would require…but both are bound by their own superiority. To be granted their favor is not an easy task." The dragon replied. One of Azaron's ears swiveled forward. "Unless it is already done…" He muttered quietly. The Khajiit suddenly turned around and ran back downy he mountain, an idea forming in his mind. Paarthunaax watched until the Dragonborn had disappeared, and then looked up at the sky. "Father Akatosh," He rumbled. "I pray you will not allow this mortal's game to disrupt the world's fate…"

#mun's writing #Azaron #Tarene

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