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mrsalwayswrite · 3 years

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Rage Like Ice (Sihtric x Reader)

This is my first time writing Sihtric, so let me know what y’all think!

Warnings: assault, attempted strangulation, aftermath of assault (I promise the assault itself is only brief)

Words:2,100

Tag List: @happyveday @evelynshelby

Thyra dabbed away the blood dripping from your split lip. You could see her wanting to say something but soon as she opened her mouth, something would flicker in her eyes and she would snap her mouth shut.

"Thyra… I am glad it was me. We don't need Beocca committing murder." You tried to both tease and soothe, even as you winced after you attempted to smile.

She smiled faintly but you could tell it was hollow. Her lips moved but her eyes remained sorrowful. "The gods were watching over us." She murmured in her gentle voice.

You nodded. Being the only two Dane women in Wintanceaster and both having been saved from different places by Uhtred and his men, you two had bonded. She had become the sister you never had.

"Sihtric may kill him though." Her fathomless eyes dropped down to the bruises forming around your throat then back up to meet your own.

"Shite. I need to cover it up."

She stared, eyes trailing over your face and neck. Most likely realizing the improbability of hiding the evidence of the fight. "Let me see what I can do." She dropped the bloodied cloth onto the table next to you, then spun on her heel and walked towards the bedroom without another word.

Soon as she was out of sight, you dropped your head into your hands and exhaled like it would dismiss all the tension and frustration rolling around in your gut. Your throat was beginning to ache and talking made it worse, even as you tried to mask the pain. You did not need Thyra heaping anymore guilt onto herself. Especially when it was not her fault.

The afternoon had not gone according to plan. King Alfred had summoned Uhtred, Finan and Sihtric to talk about Dane raids. Of course, Beocca tagged along, most likely in an attempt to keep Uhtred in line. Osferth had said something about visiting the church to pray. So while the men were gone, Thyra and you planned on taking a leisurely stroll through the market, getting supplies for a special dinner and working on it together before the men returned. You knew the simple act of making a meal with female company was something she missed from her childhood with her mother, so you tried to do it every time you could.

Of course, fate had other plans.

On your walk, a Saxon man yelled 'Dane whores' at you two from his seat at a pub. When you two ignored him, arms locked together and you rolled your eyes… apparently that was the wrong action to take. He stumbled out of his seat, not quite drunk but certainly not sober, and followed like a stray cat, hissing and trying to be threatening.

What you did not expect was for him to sneak up from behind and shove you forcefully to the ground. It may have been the dismissive look you had given him or how you told him to 'just leave us alone, bastard', but he focused all his anger out on you. He shoved Thyra to the ground also, kicking away her basket, spilling all its content onto the ground. After hitting the ground, you rolled over, Sihtric's training forcing your body to move, to be ready. Before you could move further, the Saxon knelt over you, pinning you beneath him.

Time blurred before your eyes, unable to vividly recall what happened next.

You remembered his hands around your throat, the weight of his body on your hips. You remembered Thyra screaming and trying to beat him off but he shoved her away again. You remembered trying to get him off, lungs shrieking, desperate for air. You remembered your mind demanding, pleading for escape. After all you had survived, after all you had endured… this could not be your end. You remembered in a last-ditch effort, grabbing the dagger you had strapped to your waist and in a Herculean attempt, stabbing him in the thigh with it.

Then, you escaped.

A crowd formed at the sight of the fight. Two men grabbed your attacker, restraining him as he snarled at you, blood dripping down his thigh. Thyra and you did not wait to see what happened next. She snagged your hand and you two raced back to her home.

Now, you could feel your hands shaking. You leaned back in the chair to look at them, laying in your lap. There were some droplets of blood on your skin. Either from you or him, you were not sure.

Your dagger was next to you on the table, cleaned off thanks to Thyra. A gift from Sihtric. When he gave it to you, he explained he hoped you never had to use it but wanted you to always have some kind of weapon on your person. Wessex was not Daneland but it still was not entirely safe.

This was the first time you had used it.

A commotion outside drew your gaze to the door just as it opened and those that you called family spilled in. Beocca led the way into his small home, grumbling and throwing glares at Uhtred and Finan, who were laughing. Osferth came next with a blush on his cheeks. Whatever they were teasing Beocca about, you doubted it was appropriate. Lastly, Sihtric walked in shaking his head.

Your heart thudded a rapid tattoo in your chest as your eyes met his. Those eyes that saw so much, that were clever and loyal and oh so trustworthy. A small smile lifted the corner of his mouth and with that, the air left your lungs faster than when you had been knocked to the ground. Even after all this time, he still left you breathless and giddy like a young girl with her first crush.

Most of all though, he made you feel safe and cherished.

Thyra stepped back into the main room, eyes wary and jumping from the men to you and back. She gripped a scarf in her hand but it was too late.

When Beocca started talking, you ripped your eyes from Sihtric, dropping your head to stare at your still trembling hands in your lap.

"Thyra, dear. Are you alright? We heard there was a fight in the market today."

Before she could answer Beocca, Finan spoke, throwing himself onto a chair with a cheeky smirk. "Oh aye, we 'eard some fool started a fight with some whores and got stabbed. I'd love to find out who the whores were, perhaps see what other moves they have?" He wiggled his eyebrows making Uhtred chuckle.

You could not help sneaking a glance at Thyra, whose own concerned gaze met yours. Was that the story being told by those who witnessed it?

Then what you dreaded happened next.

The sound of footfalls came towards you. You clasped your hands in my lap, hoping to stop the trembling, wishing there was a way to magic the bruises away. It was too late though. He knew. Somehow, he always knew when you were in trouble, or hurting or just needed him.

Sihtric stopped, standing right in front of you. You could see his legs and boots but you refused to look up.

"Look at me." He said softly, yet the command rang loudly in his words. You shook your head, tears gathering in your eyes.

With a tender touch that seemed counterintuitive to his warrior skills, he cupped your chin, lifting it gently. That intense gaze swept over your face, drawing answers without even asking you a question. His thumb touched your split lip, as if confirming what he was seeing was not an illusion. When those dark eyes moved lower, your breath caught in your throat. You witnessed the moment he saw the bruises on your throat. His eyes narrowed, jaw clenched, his body suddenly tense and wound up like a coil, but his touch remained soft on you.

All the sounds of those around you vanished as he met your eyes once again. It was just him and you in this moment.

"Who did this to you?"

You flinched at the ice in his voice. Oh, this was far worse than anger. You knew of the anger that could burn through him, especially in battle. This though… the way frost practically coated his breath, the stillness that covered his body, the dead silence after his question. This was not the fire of anger so easily witnessed in others. No, this went beyond that. This was the icy depths of rage and fury. This was not something that would burn out after a quick fight. No, this lingered until the rage thawed away… only satisfied when the blood debt was paid.

He whispered your name, sweeping away a stray tear that escaped from your eye. "Who did this?"

"Some drunk. It doesn't matter. We got away." You croaked out, your throat suddenly feeling swollen as if words and emotions were stuck there.

He turned to the side, keeping his hand under your chin, baring your neck for all to see, and looked at Uhtred. "Lord… permission to hunt down this bastard and finish what he started."

"Sihtric, no…" You whined but he ignored you.

Uhtred's eyes narrowed, flickering across your face and neck. "Shouldn't be that hard to hunt the bastard down. He'll be limping from a dagger to the leg."

"Uhtred, Sihtric, no." Beocca moved to stand in front of the door. "We shall bring this matter before the king. Let him decide justice. You cannot commit murder."

"It's not murder if I'm stopping him from attempting to kill her again!" Sihtric stated coldly, eyes narrowed, body almost vibrating in rage. "That's protection."

"Sihtric, please, no." You clawed at him, trying to keep him with you. "Stay with me."

Finan stood up, hands raised in an unnecessary show of surrender. "We'll find the bastard, Sihtric. We'll deal with him but not when ya eyes are seein' red, aye? Father Beocca and I can go to the king right now. Uhtred and Osferth can find that piece of shite. We won't let this happen again."

"Please." You tried once again. At this point your voice was no more than a whisper, the dull ache transforming so it felt like someone was rubbing sandpaper against your throat. The adrenaline from earlier had drained and now exhaustion replaced it. All you wanted was for Sihtric to hold you, to stay and not race away on a man hunt for that damn drunk. "Please…. just stay with me."

The Dane stared at you for several long moments, those dark eyes trailing a heat over your exposed skin. Finally, his hard gaze shifted to look at the men across the room. He gave a single nod, draining the tension in the room. Immediately everyone started moving, either to fulfill their duties or to escape from Sihtric's cold fury.

"Thyra, come with me." Beocca said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and escorting her outside. Finan and Osferth slipped out quickly with them.

Uhtred moved closer, eyes scanning over you. "Did he harm you anywhere else?"

"No, lord."

"We'll take care of this. One way or another." He said, but the last part he directed to Sihtric. You could see the understanding in Uhtred's eyes. If someone put their hands on Gisela like that, he would be out for blood…. and no one would be able to stop him.

"Thank you, lord."

After Sihtric's comment, Uhtred nodded once more to the pair of you then stormed out of the small home, presumably on his way to hunt down the man that hurt you.

Once alone, Sihtric whipped around, his hands cupped your face. The desperate fury and fear no longer hidden away on his face. "No one touches you. No one." He hissed out, a hand lightly trailing down your neck.

Many times before he had teasingly told you that the only thing to ever adorn your neck should be his lips. You had even stopped wearing any form of necklace because he would complain that it got in his way. Now seeing the bruises marring his favorite place to lavish his affection on you, you knew this only fueled his blood lust.

"I know. You taught me to protect myself and I did." You tried to soothe, your hands gripping the front of his tunic.

"I should have been there."

"No, you were doing your duty. You were with Lord Uhtred." You paused. "This is not your fault."

His voice dropped to a strained whisper. "I can't lose you."

"You won't. The gods brought us together, they would not tear us apart like this."

He pulled you against him, wrapping his arms around you and kissed the top of your head. With your head against his chest, you could feel the last of his icy rage thawed away as you sank into his embrace.

"I swear you're never leaving my side."

You smiled, burrowing your head further against his chest. "I could think of worse places to be."

#The Last Kingdom #the last kingdom fanfic #the last kingdom fandom #sihtric x reader #Sihtric #Uhtred Ragnarson #finan the agile #Osferth #FATHER BEOCCA #thyra #mz writes

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ikeromantic · 3 years

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Fake It Til You Make It

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfiction - approx. 2200 words. This scene takes place post-romantic epilogue. Fluff and a little spice.

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: Adrift

Kyubei watched the innkeeper through narrowed eyes. Though the man was clearly nervous, he didn’t seem to be lying. His story hadn’t changed in the last three tellings, so either he was an accomplished liar or he was telling the truth.

“L-lord Akechi and the woman left with one of the Akechi warriors. Right after we saw the fire across the lake,” the innkeeper said for the fourth time. “Then the storm came and after that, no one saw him.”

“Do you remember anything else? Did anyone else come in after they left? Did you see anyone acting strangely?”

The man shook his head. “No, I mean, not really? Everyone was a bit strange after we saw the blaze. Wondering if Azuchi was still standing.” He frowned. “You think it might have been Lord Akechi? Him disappearing like that right after -”

Kyubei cut him off. “No. That was the work of the Mouri clan.” It wasn’t the first person he’d spoken with that suspected. And why wouldn’t they? Mitsuhide was only just back from his misadventure at the shogun’s side. An ally in disgrace. A man not to be trusted.

The worst part of all this was that Kyubei really had no idea what his lord wanted him to do. Should he quash the rumors? Encourage them? Mitsuhide’s instructions from his last letter said nothing about an attack on Azuchi - not like this - and nothing about disappearing. Of course, he pretended like he knew exactly what was going on. He had to, until he received additional instructions.

“So . . . am I free to go?” The innkeeper was frowning now. His nervousness replaced by a desire to get back to making money at the inn.

“For now,” Kyubei said. He gave the man a hard stare. “If I need anything else, I will send someone for you.”

The innkeeper bowed and left, leaving Kyubei alone with his thoughts. It really seemed that in the storm, his lord had simply vanished into thin air. And Miyake too.

Perhaps they'd left with Ranmaru, who was also missing. But if so, there would be a letter. A message. Something!

The castle staff had no idea where he was - they’d waited for him to return for hours. Miyake’s squad couldn’t find their commander either. Both men were expected.

And the chatelaine . . . his lady. Kyubei worried that he had failed to protect her again.

***

Morning came with pale light through a high window. It fell across four careworn, sleeping faces. Sasuke and Miyake lay in a tangle of blankets on the floor, and in a bed, Mitsuhide clung to his little mouse. He woke with the first notes of bird-song, but kept his eyes shut. He wasn’t ready to confront the strange world of 500 years in the future just yet.

His little one stirred in his arms as the sound of morning birds turned into a hum of outside activity. “Is it . . . are we really . . .” She opened her eyes and looked around Sarutobi’s flat. “We’re really here.”

Mitsuhide nodded.

“I want to be happy about it, but . . .”

He shushed her with a kiss. “It will be fine. Worrying won’t return us faster.”

She sighed and buried her face against his chest. “I know. I just hope everyone is alright.”

“They will be,” Mitsuhide reassured her. He didn’t think of it as a lie - simply an assumption he based on his past experience. Nobunaga would handle this threat as he did others that came before it.

And Kyubei would see to what the left hand needed to be doing.

Sasuke sat up, rubbing his face. “I apologize for the accommodations,” he told them. The same apology he’d given the night before.

“At least we had somewhere to sleep.” The chatelaine sat up and wiggled out of the blanket. “I should probably check on my flat and see if it’s still mine. If so, we won't have to impose on you a second night. Although,” she sighed. “I don’t have my ID or my keys or anything.”

“I don't mind,” Sasuke replied. “You are welcome to continue crashing here. Although, we may not be here for long. Weren’t there activities you wanted to do in this time? While you can?” His left eyebrow lifted almost imperceptibly.

Mitsuhide gave her one of his slow, warm smiles. His fingers traced a path down her spine. “Yes, you did mention some things I would like to see, since we are here.”

His little mouse arched like a cat against his hand. “I did . . . yes. Alright. Since we’re here, we might as well try to enjoy it!”

Miyake rolled over on the floor and pulled the blanket over his head.

“I take it that means you plan to stay here for the day?”

Sasuke answered for the half-asleep warrior. “Actually, I would really appreciate it if Miyake would accompany me. I need to go to my university and make some arrangements.”

Miyake groaned and sat up. He blinked as his gaze went around the room, taking in all the strange objects. Finally, he settled on the ninja. “You need protection or something?”

“No. I don’t think anyone will attack me.” Sasuke felt around for his glasses and slid them on. “But I expect to be moving some heavy equipment in the lab. And I may have a friend who can help us out with those arrangements, if you're there to corroborate my story.”

“Corr what?” Miyake frowned.

“Authenticate. Like a two factor security key.” The ninja grinned.

The warrior looked to Mitsuhide uncertainly.

“If Sarutobi believes you can assist him today, then that is what you will do. I am sure my fiancée and I will be fine.”

The chatelaine looked less certain about this, but she nodded agreement.

The four of them took turns dressing in the ‘washroom’ to give each other privacy. His morning was one of surprise as the . . . toilet . . . squirted him with water. And warm or cold water came from a metal spigot at the turn of a handle too, spilling into a porcelain basin. There were more smokeless lanterns - electric lights they were called - and other wonders.

Had Mitsunari been there, he was sure the scholar could have spent weeks studying every device but Mitsuhide just needed to know how to use it.

In this place, he was the naïve child, and his little one, the wise teacher. Such a shift in their positions was hard to take. Mitsuhide didn’t think of himself as arrogant but this situation was humbling in the extreme. Thankfully, he managed to get through dressing and breakfast without any serious mishaps.

Sasuke and Miyake left to the university. The flat was silent in their wake. Mitsuhide and his little mouse sat on the edge of the bed. She was tapping away at a . . . tablet . . . to get access to her accounts. The electronic scroll was interesting, at least. With pictures and writing all lit up so you could read it even in the dark.

Mitsuhide stood and stretched, trying to get used to moving in his new clothes. They were Sarutobi’s and didn’t quite fit. He was dressed in a pair of pants that clung tightly to his legs and ended short of his ankle. The top was a soft weave, dyed black. It sported an odd blue character on it and the word Sonic. Sarutobi said the picture was a hedgehog, whatever that was.

He would have liked to wear something without a picture on it. He’d had the choice between this one and something with a lizard that walked on two legs and shot fire from its mouth. Those were the only two shirts the ninja had that were long enough to cover him to his waist. And there was no way he was walking around with a bare midriff. Even if his little mouse looked interested in the idea.

Her midriff was bare afterall, she’d laughed. And it was - sort of. She tied one of Sasuke’s shirts in a bow under her breasts and had a pair of his shorts on. Though Mitsuhide wasn’t familiar with the clothes of this time, he thought she looked like a child trying to fit into her father’s clothes. Endearingly cute, but ill fit. Some of the clothes they saw women wearing on the way in the night before would have looked much better on her.

She looked up as if she knew he was thinking about her. “Ok, I think we’re ready to go.”

“Where to, my love?”

“Well, first to my apartment. It looks like my rent payments have all been made. And the building manager knows me so I should be able to get a spare key.” Her smile was all relief.

They arrived to the apartment, a small space in a tall building that reminded Mitsuhide of a castle, if the castle was robbed of all charm and beauty. Her room was utilitarian and sterile, and while there was still the wonder of technology, he could see none of her personality in the space. He said as much.

“Hm, yeah. I didn’t really have time to decorate. The apartment came furnished. I moved in and then, well,” she laughed. “I ended up in Azuchi with you.”

Mitsuhide pulled her into a hug. “A fate worse than death, little mouse?”

“You know it wasn’t,” she giggled, laughing harder as he ran his fingers down her sensitive sides. Holding her like this felt like home, even if nothing else was familiar.

After several slow breaths, they let go of each other.

“I must confess, I cannot see you living in this place. It doesn’t seem very safe. And you don’t have much room for your sewing.” Mitsuhide couldn’t help but poke into her cabinets, shelves, and drawers.

She nodded. “Yeah, it’s pretty small but it was a place I could afford on my own.”

Mitsuhide heard the pride in her voice. He smiled. “I can imagine you coming here, determined to make it on your own.” He turned from the cabinet he was inspecting to see her stripping off her shirt.

Her pert breasts were a pleasant surprise, but she crossed her arms over them as soon as she saw him looking. “I’m just changing clothes! I didn’t want to wear Sasuke’s basketball shorts all day.”

“Please, continue.”

“I - I can’t while you’re staring at me!” She turned so that all he could see was her back.

Mitsuhide laughed. “Are we not lovers? How many times have I kissed, nibbled, caressed every bit of your skin from head to toe?”

She shivered, skin dimpling with remembered touches. Slow, nervous, she turned back around. Her arms lowered, revealing her chest again. “You can watch if you want to.”

He wasn’t sure if it was nerves or mischief that made her voice squeak at the end. Either was amusing. “Mmm, I’m a lucky man to get a show.”

“You are,” she smiled. Her fingers went to the tie on the shorts. They fell away, pooling around her feet. Underneath, she wore nothing.

Mitsuhide sucked in a breath.

Her hips swayed as she walked to her wardrobe. She glanced over her shoulder at him and fluttered her eyelashes, trying to be saucy. The effect was a little spoiled by the blush that ran from her cheeks to the tips of her ears. From within the wardrobe she pulled out a little twist of cloth. It was light blue and made of some embroidered material.

He didn’t realize he could see her skin through it until she slipped it on, slowly pulling the fabric taut over her curves. Though she was technically covered, it was somehow more tempting than just skin alone. “What . . . is that?”

“Panties.” She giggled. Then she pulled out a matching bit of cloth and wrapped it around her chest. The rise of her breasts were restrained by this new piece of clothing as she reached behind her as if to tie it.

“And that?”

“My bra.” She turned right, then left, letting him get a good view.

The sight made Mitsuhide want to simultaneously rip the clothing off her and still enjoy looking at her in them. It wasn’t possible to have both . . .

“To be honest, it’s been kind of nice not wearing these the last few months. But I think I would feel weird if I didn’t wear them with my modern clothes.”

“I like them.” Mitsuhide smiled widely. A grin that brought heat to her gaze before she looked away, suddenly shy. He knew this ground well. Even here in a world where everything was strange, his little one was the same.

He stepped forward, reaching to cup her cheek. His other hand settled lightly on her hip, fingertips stroking the skin just above the fabric of her panties. She inhaled sharply, lips parting. Mitsuhide took the invitation.

The kiss was, at first, gentle and sweet, but the press of their bodies built heat between them. Their breath mingled, tongues entwined. Hands grasping, stroking, pulling. Tearing.

Mitsuhide stopped at the sound of fabric ripping.

His little one gasped and reached down to feel the damage. Her eyes widened. “You . . . tore my panties.” Then she started to laugh.

He laughed too. Never in his life had he expected a woman so wonderful. A woman he would want badly enough to - literally - tear the clothes off her. This kind of passion he’d always believed was fake. Yet here he was. It was unthinkable. Incredible. “I love you,” Mitsuhide told her, smiling so widely that it hurt.

“I love you too.”

She gestured to the wardrobe. "I should probably, you know. Finish." It took only a moment for her to shimmy into her own clothes. Then they headed out into this strange world that was his home 500 years after death.

Next: Kitsune's Day Out

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen mitsuhide #mitsuhide akechi #otome boys #otome #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff

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systlinsideblog · 3 years

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Part 5

Systlin slept.

She always dreamed in vivid detail; scents, sounds, touch. Often, the dream felt quite real, until of course she woke.

This dream was warm. The warmth of the feather bed, of the blankets. The pleasant warmth from the summer breeze blowing through the open window. The warmth, most of all, of Foicatch.

She rested her cheek against the solid warmth of his chest, eyes closed. The beat of his heart, the tickle of the hairs on his chest against her nose, the smell of his skin, were all as vivid as reality.

He smelled faintly of smoke; he'd been in the forge, then. He didn't need to, of course. Hadn't, for a long time. A Bloodguard earned quite enough to hire a smith for whatever they might need, and a King Consort had the royal smith at his disposal.

But Foicatch, before any of that, had been the son of a master carpenter, and a smith's apprentice. He wore the tattoo on his arm that proclaimed his journeyman status proudly, even after two years spent in a city guard, a decade and more in the Bloodguard, and another twenty years as King Consort.

He rather liked rubbing it in the faces of some of the high lords and high ladies, to be quite honest. A smith was an honored craftsman. And he liked the forge. He liked watching the colors of the flames, the smell of hot metal and smoke, the steam from the quench tank. He liked the sound of the hammer and the feel of it in his hand. And so, quite often, the King Consort of the Northern Lands, the father of the heir to the Throne of the North, would go down to the royal smithy and serve as assistant to the master smith of Stellas Keep.

He joked sometimes that he was still working for his master-craft tattoo. It was, Systlin knew, not entirely a joke.

She pressed her cheek against the solid warmth of him. His hand was moving, fingertips stroking her spine from nape of neck to small of back and back up.

His fingers were rough, both from a sword and from the forge hammer. Systlin liked that about them, and how strong they were.

The sensation of his heartbeat under her cheek, the lingering glow of pleasure shared, and the fingers stroking her back were glorious. She hummed in pleasure, and felt him chuckle softly.

"Little cat." He said, teasingly. "You're purring."

"Mmm." She kept her eyes closed. She was the Queen Regnant of the North, had fought two wars, held the high lords in check mainly through fear of her and had earned the love of the common folk by shedding blood and sweat for them. She was a Breaker, the first in centuries, and rumored to be the most powerful yet to live. She held that power, and herself, on a tight leash.

But here, in the bedroom she shared with her husband, it all melted away for a little while.

She wondered, yet again, if he knew just how much he was the center of sanity that kept her moored and grounded. She had told him, of course, but still.

Foicatch shifted. She made a sound of protest, and he tweaked the gold ring in her ear playfully. She sat up reluctantly, eyeing the matching bond-ring in his ear and contemplating tugging back.

"I have something for you." His voice was soft.

She raised an eyebrow. He rolled to the side; she appreciated the shift of his muscles under his skin as he did so. He was a wonderfully built man.

"Here." He took something from the bed-table, and turned back to her. "I made this today."

'This' was a small round piece of iron. It was beautifully made, twisted threads of wire in a complicated interlinked pattern of knots. In the center was engraved the eight-pointed star of her family. It was strung on a chain, and clearly meant to be worn as a pendant.

"You made it?" She put it on happily.

"I purified the steel from ore myself. And quenched it in water mixed with a drop of my own blood. I burned three of my hairs, three of yours, and three of Serra's on it, for the forge spirits." He ducked his head a little, as if embarrassed. "They'll protect you, if you wear it."

It was an old ritual, Systlin knew. Hairs from her head, his, and their child, offered to the forge-spirits for protection. His own blood in the quench-tank, to keep away rust and wear.

"I know you don't need it." He was saying, still seeming embarrassed. "But..."

She kissed him. Hard and at length.

"Thank you." She told him, when they finally came up for air. He smiled, his face lighting up like the sun, and kissed her again....

Systlin woke.

The furs next to her were empty, of course. On her breast, the iron of the pendant Foicatch had made her long ago was as cold as ice.

The loneliness hit her like a brick, but there wasn't time to dwell on it.

From outside the wagon there was a cry of alarm.

She was on her feet and had her weapons in hand before it faded. There were sounds of a struggle from outside, and she was moving, barefoot and wearing her sleeping tunic, reactions honed by decades of experience engaged instantly.

It was coming from the rear of the wagon. The wood that made the wagon was sturdy, but it was roofed in canvas. Even as she leapt towards the sound of the commotion, a knife blade was stabbed through the canvas to slice a way into her wagon.

The wood of the wagon was sturdy.

That did not matter, to a Breaker, in the slightest.

The rear wall of the wagon fractured violently into a million splinters as she Broke it; she closed her eyes and raised an arm to protect them as she dove through the cloud of them.

She went low out of sheer instinct. Dove through the splinters, hit the ground outside in a shoulder roll and was back on her feet in an instant. Spun, taking in the scene before her.

A woman was on the ground, her throat slit. Another was crying the alarm, pointing to the wagon. A man was struggling to regain his feet as splinters rained down around him; he must, she surmised, have been climbing the back wall of her wagon. A knife lay beside him.

A second man was stumbling backwards, caught off guard by the explosion of splinters. He was armed with a quiva and a lance.

He saw her, and his eyes widened.

The cold light clarity of battle was setting in already. Systlin bared her teeth in a horrible parody of a smile, and lunged.

She was faster than him. She was better trained than him. She had the element of surprise.

It was a credit to his own skills that he managed to regain his footing and twist out of the way of the sword strike that would have gutted him. It was even more to his credit that he managed to parry the dagger strike that would have torn his throat open.

He did not dodge the knee kick. Systlin slammed her heel into his kneecap, and felt the crunch as bone gave way. He fell as the leg gave out, and lashed out savagely at her with his lance.

He was very fast. She was faster. Ice snapped down to parry the lance, and she sank her dagger to the hilt in his neck, just above the collarbone.

Then she was past him, and advancing on the stunned man struggling to find his breath again. He'd fallen a good eight feet from the top of her wagon, and the wind had been knocked out of him. He was bleeding in a dozen places, from where splinters had driven into flesh.

He saw her coming, and reached for the knife. She smiled at him, baring her teeth in the sheer bloody delight of battle, and stepped on the weapon, kicking it away.

"I was wondering," she told him, even as her guards finally arrived with weapons drawn. "how long it would take you bastards."

An hour later, the bound prisoner had been carted away. The corpse had been disposed of, and Systlin was back to bed.

They'd both been men granted freedom for apparent good behavior. To be honest, she'd known that some of them were acting, and had expected this.

It had been some time since she'd had assassins try to kill her in the night. It was rather refreshing, actually. Her aunt had always maintained that regular practice was needed to keep skills sharp.

The chill had faded from her pendant. She held it, for a long moment, imagining for a moment that she could still smell him, could still feel his touch.

She reached up and touched the rings in her ear...two of them, one a gold ring set with a ruby, the second silver, and set with sapphire. Foicatch wore a matching sapphire bond-ring. Sura wore a matching ring of ruby.

How long had she been here? Four weeks now?

Systlin Stellas, Queen of the Northern Lands, was not given to tears. But even so, as she lay in her bed alone, she felt wetness on her cheeks.

Come morning, when she had the prisoner dragged before her as she held court in the open space before her wagon, she had composed herself again.

The man who'd tried to kill her was not the only prisoner present. She'd had the men who'd not yet been freed dragged before her too, and set where they could watch. They were silent, and stoic. Systlin had come to expect that of them.

Despite this, of course, she noted with some pleasure that the presence of the severed head of her would-be assassin spiked on a lance set in the ground did seem to draw their eyes.

She smiled pleasantly at them. She'd learned years ago that it unnerved people when she did this.

"I am honestly surprised," she said. "That it took you this long."

The bound prisoner spat at her feet. She ignored this.

"I would like to publicly recognize," she continued, "Dina of Turia, who was clever enough both to recognize that an attempt would likely be made, and to think of setting guards at the rear of my wagon as well as the front."

Dina smiled brilliantly at the praise, and brought her lance to her forehead in salute. Her smile faltered, though; Systlin knew that she'd insisted on arranging for the death-rites of the slain guardswoman personally.

"I am sorry, Ubara." She said. "That your guards failed to stop them."

Systlin shook her head. "You cannot expect to best trained warriors after a month of practice. I have said as much. But they saw the men, and warned me, and it was clever of you to deduce where such an attack might be made."

That got another smile. "I have lived among Tuchuks." She said. "I've learned how they think."

"Now, of course, we deal with you." Systlin stood, and drew her sword. The prisoner met her eyes, defiant.

"Go on, sleen." He said. "You are no Ubara."

"Ah. Of course. Because I have not killed your former Ubar." She smiled at his shock, and in the gathered prisoners there were many suddenly wide eyes. "What? You think that I've not spoken to people? You think that the other women didn't tell me? What kind of fool do you take me for?"

Shock, from many of the men. But from the women, mocking laughter.

"It is a situation easily remedied." She smiled at him, and then planted her feet and cut, swift and hard, pivoting from the hips.

Ice cut through muscle and bone quite easily. The head hit the ground with a thump and rolled. Systlin ignored the body as it fell, and pointed towards the prisoners with the bloodied blade of Ice.

"You," she said, still smiling. "Kamchak, is it? Ubar of the Tuchuks?"

The man met her eyes steadily. She saw anger there, but no fear. He was, if nothing else, brave.

"A lesson I learned long ago." She told him. "Is that a queen with no people who follow her is no queen at all. And you, former Ubar, have barely a handful of men loyal to you. I have six thousand loyal to me. So who, here, is Ubara?"

He spat.

"But I am willing," she continued, "to do this properly. It will be a pleasure, even." She nodded to her guards. "Remove his chains, and give him weapons. If he wants his position back, he can fight me for it."

There was a roar from the gathered women, and Systlin smiled as Kamchak's eyes narrowed, and he bared his teeth right back at her.

We had known, of course. It had been whispered about camp, and the men who had managed to convince the women to free them had consulted Kamchak many times in the previous days. It had been done quietly, of course; Tuchuks are clever.

On the night that the attack was to occur, we of course heard the commotion, as the wagon we were chained to was not far distant from that claimed by Systlin. Adjacent to it, in fact, as I seemed to be of special interest to her and she apparently wished to keep me under close scrutiny.

I had asked for Kamchak to at least be chained near me. The request had been granted. We sat practically on, indeed, the flat space of grass before the great wagon that she used as her court.

We heard, quite quickly, that it had failed. Systlin sent out messengers immediately, and spent an hour before her wagon in plain view of any and all who wished to see that she lived.

She was wearing a brief silk tunic, as she had no doubt been startled from sleep. Her legs were strong; far too strong for Gorean tastes, but still shapely. The image was somewhat marred by the blood that had dripped down her thigh as she carried the head of her slain enemy to the lance fixed in the turf for this purpose.

The second man who'd attempted the attack was dragged to the grass before her, chained hand and foot and hand to foot, and tied down to lances sunk deeply into the turf.

The women, I noted, did not cringe so any longer when shouted at by an angry warrior. His cries of rage were ignored.

I noticed, for the first time, how well formed were the muscles of the women. I supposed that the hard work at camp and the running after the kaiila of their masters had always left the girls in excellent physical form. Had the last month of their play at weapons truely wrought such a change, though?

Or had the girls always been so fit, and I had simply not seen them drag a grown warrior by his hair before?

Systlin sat there holding court, clad in red silk and the blood of a slain warrior, a man who'd been sent to kill her bound before her, the firelight casting flickering shadow and light over the scene, seated on the furs and pillows as if they were a throne of gold and rubies.

She met my eyes once, in the shadows, and her smile was a terrible thing to behold.

For the first time since the she-demon had arrived, I understood how such a creature could be called a queen.

It's said on Gor that a woman who enjoys the touch of silk is a slave at heart. I wondered if the man who had first said it had ever seen a woman wearing silk and the blood of a slain enemy. I found myself, for the first time in a great while, doubting the phrase.

Come morning, of course, we were dragged to court. And there, of course, Systlin killed the warrior who'd attempted to kill her before all the Tuchuk. I had supposed as much would happen, once I had heard of the failure of the attack.

I had not supposed that she would call out Kamchak, or agree to fight him.

Kamchak, of course, accepted.

As the corpse of the executed warrior was removed from the circle, I realized that I had never yet seen the she-sleen truly fight.

"Be careful," I said to Kamchak.

He nodded, once. She was only a woman, of course, and he was proud...but I saw him narrow his eyes at her, thoughtful, as his chains were removed.

He was sly, the Ubar of the Tuchuks. I knew this.

"It is unfair." He said, as his ankle chains were unlocked. "You wear armor, and I am nearly naked."

Systlin smiled, just a twitch of her lips, and removed the red larl-hide cloak, and her leather vest. The glittering shirt of strange scales was brilliant in the sun. I could see no two scales of precisely the same shade.

She bent at the waist and wriggled out of the armor, leaving her in just the padded shirt that went under the armor. She unsheathed her dagger and spun it around the back of her hand, quicker than the eye could follow, the hilt sliding neatly back into her hand as the spin finished.

"There." She said. "Choose whatever weapons you please."

Kamchak observed her, eyes narrow, for some time. Then at last, he spoke. "Lance," he said, "And quiva."

Systlin nodded, and weapons were brought.

"You have the sun at your back," Kamchak observed. "So that it will shine in my eyes."

"Yes." She answered him calmly, matter of fact. She made no offer to change the situation.

"That is wise. I would do the same."

She inclined her head perhaps an inch in acknowledgement.

"If I defeat you, I will simply kill you." He informed her. "You are too dangerous to make a slave, witch."

She smiled at that, showing teeth.

"I suppose if I seized one of these women as hostage, you would simply overpower me with sorcery." He stretched, and weighed quiva and lance in his hands.

"Of course."

Kamchak approached her, cautious. Systlin waited, and I saw her shift her weight slightly. She was balanced on the balls of her feet, I saw, her legs spread slightly in a way that would give her stable footing and allow her to move any direction at the slightest notice.

"Tarl Cabot," Kamchak said, and I started. "It would be a terrible thing, should this witch slay me, and no one else know that which you seek is currently within my own wagon, and has often served me as throne."

I started; the gray, leathery thing that I had supposed was a bundle of old leather, and which Kamchak often sat upon?

Of course, it was like a Tuchuk, to hide such a treasure in the most clever of ways...

There was a ring of metal on metal, and I was torn from such thoughts. Kamchak had hurled a quiva, as he had at me once upon a time. And as I had, Systlin had apparently seen the throw coming, though it was so quick as to be missed upon blinking. She had moved, just as quickly, and the ringing had been her sword meeting the quiva in mid-air, and parrying it to the side.

I had seen her before in bits and flashes in the battle that terrible night, and later executing bound prisoners. Her form with a blade, I had thought, was good.

I had been wrong before. Her form with a blade was excellent, and beyond excellent.

It struck me, as she nimbly dodged a striking lance and the slashing blow of a second quiva, Kamchak bringing it up and around in a hidden strike close on the heels of his lunge with the lance, that she would have compared favorably with the best of the warriors of Ko-ro-ba.

As she danced in, light and nimble, and drove him back on his heels with a vicious, lightning quick series of strikes, it occurred to me that she was likely quicker on her feet than even I.

The sword and dagger at once was not a common combination on Gor, but the she-sleen used them to devastating effect. One may parry while the other attacks, and attack may follow attack without the slightest moment of respite. Equally, both may be used to turn aside blows given in return, though this relies upon the warrior being quick and nimble and possessed of excellent timing.

Systlin was all three. She was quick, marvelously quick. She was nimble, her footing flawless. Her timing was precise and deadly.

Within the first exchange, she had opened a deep bleeding slash into Kamchak's arm with that dagger, and as he fought to hold those biting blades off the sword slipped around and opened a cut into his thigh.

Kamchak's lance gave him reach, and he was quick on his feet as well. As she pivoted neatly around his lance and cut for his neck with a vicious flat slice of her sword, he threw himself to the side unexpectedly and hurled his quiva, at nearly point blank range.

She saw, and with a degree of control over her body and momentum that I had thought nearly impossible checked her momentum and changed direction, but still the quiva opened a cut across the front of her thigh.

Both warriors fell back, eyeing one another. Kamchak was serious, deadly so. Systlin was grinning, and I have seen that grin before on the battlefield.

Only warriors who truly delight in the fight smile so.

As we watched, the she-sleen lowered her hand, dipped two fingers into the blood flowing from her wound, and drew them across her cheek, smearing scarlet like war-paint across her skin.

"U-BAR-A!" There was chanting from the massed Tuchuk. A few, though, including the other still-imprisoned warriors, were crying "U-BAR!"

"You are good." Kamchak admitted.

Systlin simply grinned, and began circling. If the pain of her wound was troubling her, she did not reveal it.

Twice more they clashed, and twice more the she-sleen opened up wounds on Kamchak and then retreated to resume her circling. Kamchak did not manage to wound her a second time in these clashes.

I realized to my horror, as she closed the third time and hooked a blow of the lance out of the air as neatly as one could please, simply to rotate around and drive her elbow viciously into the back of Kamchak's skull, that she was toying with him.

Kamchak knew as well, as she retreated to resume that relentless circling again. The blow had dazed him for a moment, and she could have slain him on the spot, but she only pricked him yet again with that dagger, opening a slash across the back of his shoulder to join the half-dozen others he was bleeding from.

"Sleen." He panted.

"I prefer" she said, still smiling that cold and vicious smile, "to be called 'Queen'."

And with that, she moved in again.

Kamchak was a great warrior, and a canny one. Kamchak fought well. Kamchak fought with a skill that would have been credit to any warrior of Ko-ro-ba. Kamchak fought with skill and speed and guile. But no man can stand forever when bleeding from a dozen wounds.

Kamchak fought well. Kamchak fought bravely. And Kamchak died, a warrior of the Tuchuk, without begging or crying out in pain, when the she-sleen tired of the game.

She did not quite behead him. When his guard dropped, dragged down by exhaustion and blood loss, she cut again with that strange sword and opened his throat clear back to the bones of his spine.

Kamchak, Ubar of the Tuchuk, fell. I did not look away as his life bled out across the grass; I owed him that much.

Systlin turned to us as Kamchak fell, fierce and furious.

"There lies your Ubar." She cried this out, and I knew at once that she was used to speaking so that her voice would carry over battlefields. "Now we will have done with this! Is there anyone else among you who would challenge me? Because now is the time! If you wish to avenge your men, if you wish to claim the Ubar title...now is the fucking time! Because the next time I have to get out of bed to an assassination attempt, I am going to slow roast the balls of anyone involved and feed them to you."

Silence.

"Then." She hissed. "Who is the fucking Ubara here?"

I could say nothing, and I was not the only one to look away.

“That’s what I fucking thought.”

Three days later

“Fuck.” Systlin dug her fingertips into her temples. She could feel a headache coming on, and it was only midmorning. “Fuck. What is wrong with this place?”

Dina gave an apologetic sort of shrug. “I cannot answer that for you, Ubara. But the Tuchuk had been preparing for the Love Games for some time, and it is considered the event of events on the plains. We could simply move the bosk on and skip it, though it will be noted.”

Systlin gritted her teeth. Her new warriors were not well trained enough to put up against those who had been trained, as she had, since they were old enough to hold swords. They were eager, she knew, but simply not yet ready for such a fight. It would be a slaughter, and she would not have it.

“Abominable fucking tradition.” She muttered. “What will happen to the Turian women placed at the stakes if we simply do not show?”

Her advisors glanced at each other and shrugged. “I do not know, Ubara.” Said Shayla, a fiercely intelligent woman. She had a keen mind for numbers and a genius for organization, and Systlin had promptly snapped her up to assist with logistics. Her former and very deceased master had kept her in a length of nearly transparent silk that barely counted as a scarf; now she wore a long bosk-wool skirt and a conservatively cut tunic, and her hair was braided and pinned up in a coil. “But I am not Turian.”

“It would be counted as a win for the Turian champions.” Dina said. “And they will be free to go. But the Tuchuk will be marked as cowards, and runners will be sent to investigate.”

“Ah.” Systlin relaxed a bit. “Well. That’s no problem. I don’t care what they think of us for now, and a few runners are easily disposed of. We simply do not go, then, and we will come back and deal with Turia when the warriors are ready.”

“The Turians,” interjected Mettna, a Tuchuk Free Woman. She also had a keen mind for logistics, and was the matriarch of a large extended family with many ties throughout the Tuchuk. Gorean laws or not, she ruled her family uncontested, and her word was law among them. Even her teenaged sons and nephews bowed their heads when she fixed them with a flinty stare. “Will consider the women the Tuchuk would have placed at the stakes theirs by default, and they will come looking for them.” A dark look; her youngest daughter Hireena had been among those intended for the stakes. “They take pleasure in breaking us to the collar and chain.”

Systlin’s hand tightened reflexively on her dagger. “If they come looking,” She said. “I’ll make drinking bowls of their skulls, and send the rest of them back to Turia.”

“Good.” A nod. “I simply wanted you to know, Ubara.”

“And it is appreciated.” Systlin tilted her head at Dina. “It would be good practice for the warriors. Fighting for real with your life on the line is much different than doing it in practice. I know that you are impatient, Dina, but I didn’t learn in a month either.”

Dina nodded. “When DO you think…” she trailed off.

“A year, perhaps.” Systlin shrugged. “It depends on how hard you train, and how many chances there are to raid and test yourself in small skirmishes. You’ve all thrown yourselves in heart and soul, and are progressing remarkably. Keep training, and you’ll be flaying slave masters sooner than you think.”

Dina looked mollified at that.

“So it is decided then. We continue to move over the grazing grounds, bide our time, gather our strength, train, and ignore this abomination called “Love Games.” Systlin nodded to each of them. “Ah, Shayla. I had meant to ask…you had located the stocks of that stuff you call the ‘releaser?’ And the stuff you call ‘sip-root?’”

“We have, Ubara. One or two of the women have requested the releaser. I gave it to them. I hope that was not…”

“Not at all. Such things are entirely up to the individual. Continue to distribute it to any who ask, and notify me if stocks run low. I am not adverse to raiding for more supplies of any sort, should they be needed. How many men remain living?”

“Thirty two of adult years. Many more nearing adulthood, though many of them have been…difficult. There will be problems there, Ubara.”

“I know. But those will be dealt with as they come. Children have not owned slaves or raped women yet, and I’ll not punish them for their upbringing. There’s hope of teaching them better yet.” She tapped her fingers against her thigh thoughtfully. “Your siproot, quite honestly, rather reminds me of stoneseed, from my own world.”

“And Silphium.” The woman named Elizabeth put in abruptly. “From mine. The Romans…an empire, some two thousand years ago…used it so much that it was harvested to extinction, but it was apparently quite effective.” She worried at her lower lip with her teeth. “I wonder…if this siproot was grown on Earth…there’s so many who don’t have access to birth control yet. It’s a hardy plant. It could change so many lives for the better.”

Systlin raised an eyebrow. “Indeed. Stoneseed is considered a basic stock necessity for any civilized place on Ellinon, as siproot seems to be here. What is done then on Earth, to prevent unwanted children?”

“Well.” A helpless sort of shrug. “We’ve pills that work well, and barrier devices, but…well, in some places there’s not much, and while we’ve plants too many are toxic or don’t work well. So, in those places there’s just…nothing.”

Systlin hissed through her teeth in disapproval. “It’s a worthy thought, then. But before we can figure out how to return you to your own world, we must set this one to rights.” She rose, as did the other women in the wagon. “Thank you all. We will speak again later.”

Outside the wagon, she found her kailla, mounted, and went for a ride around the perimeter of the camp. She’d taken to doing so regularly; an early and hard lesson had been that people need to see their leaders.

Her father had ignored this fact. He’d died for it, with her brother, and the northern lands had dissolved into war for a decade.

After her circuit of the camp, she went to the field where the fighters were training. A few of the freed men had offered to help teach, and were so far proving helpful. Systlin had been dubious; the women of this place were so conditioned to expect nothing but brutality at a man’s hands that she’d wondered if it wouldn’t cause more harm than good. However, it seemed, after some tentative starts, to be helping both sides. The women were faster losing their ingrained flinching cringe when a man moved towards them, and the men, she knew, had been stunned by how quickly the women took to training. She’d heard them speaking to the still chained men about it, and arguing. She’d seen them as well cuff and get into yelling matches with a few of the sullenly furious teenaged boys who were nearing manhood, and had found their expected power ripped away in a moment.

The man named Carl Tabot was there too. He was still chained, foot to foot, and was simply allowed to correct errors when he saw them. She’d contemplated killing him; she was certain, in her bones, that he was guilty of the same atrocities of most of the other men. But she’d no proof, and the man was a skilled warrior; she’d only broken his leg rather than killed him for that, and because she’d noted the first time he spoke that he was not of these wagon people.

He spotted her, and glowered. She was more than certain that he’d happily stick a knife through her throat in her sleep if he thought he could get by with it. She smiled at him in return, the sharp, worrying flash of teeth that was famed and feared across the sands and the northern lands. He flinched, and glowered at her.

Fuck, but she would have given anything to have Foicatch there. The ingrained misogyny of this world ran deep, and she knew that words from a man would be more seriously taken than her words, however thoroughly she demonstrated that she was, in fact, the new superior power on this planet.

Actually, the idea was quite amusing. The men of this place had made it quite obvious what they thought of being ‘true men’, and that men not like them were ‘weak’ and ‘unmanned’. Foicatch, all six feet three inches and two hundred fifty granite-hewn, deadly warrior-trained pounds of him, could hardly ever be called either. But, like most real men, Foicatch was quite secure in himself and felt little need to loudly proclaim it for everyone to hear. He was, really, far more even-tempered and easygoing than she. He’d be mostly bemused by the arrogant, angry posturing and bellowing and rage of the men of this shithole.

Until he was not. It took a great deal to rouse Foicatch’s ire, but once roused it was terrible.

Systlin entertained the thought of one of the sullen, angry Tuchuk boys being dangled from one of ‘Catch’s hands, her beloved bellowing at the little shit, and smiled again in private amusement.

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teamxdark · 3 years

Text

I still want to post anything at all so. Here's the first unedited chapter of SatCK.

Also, once it's done, would people rather it all be posted at once, or a chapter a day? Let me know!

The clouds loomed low, obscuring the sun and showering the world in gray as a lone raven landed on the bones of a long-dead animal. He tapped his beak to the skull, as though to test the hardiness of the material, his eyes flashing with what might have been a sense of superiority before he looked back at the empty dirt path that cut through the grass and took off into the air.

The path did not remain empty for long; a girl ran along it just a moment later, her long purple cloak drawn closely over herself and her boots kicking up dust as she ran. In her hands, she clutched a staff tightly to her chest, which heaved with exertion as the girl kept running, occasionally glancing over her shoulder to see if she was being followed.

At first, everything looked peaceful and devoid of life behind her, and her shoulders relaxed just a fraction.

Then, from the endless gray that covered the land, dark creatures spawned from the shadows, transforming from dark spots with glowing magenta eyes to massive beasts of all kinds, both landbound and flying, burly and nimble, and all clad in faded, heavy armor while wielding great blades that glinted dully, even with the lack of sunlight.

The girl stopped as she realized that she was trapped, while from a nearby tree, the raven watched calmly. As the monstrous warriors surrounded the girl from all sides, the bird took flight, swooping high up into air before dropping down, and in the blink of an eye, he transformed.

One minute, there was a raven in the air. The next moment, a pair of black metal boots touched the earth, and the imposing figure of a man in heavy armor stood at full height before the frightened girl. He approached her, drawing his blade, his eyes glowing through the slits in his helmet as he approached, promising death. In the air, thick with tension, his voice cut through, clear and full of malice.

“This is the end for you and your treason. I will see to that myself.”

The girl’s hands trembled as they fumbled with her staff, then steadied themselves with a great show of effort. The girl took a deep breath, forcing down her nerves, and struck the ground with the magical artifact, summoning forth its magical properties as she began to chant, summoning a blue light all around her that had the armored beasts recoiling and the man with the sword halting in his tracks.

That was all she needed to finish her spell.

“O brave knight, swift as the wind! Heed my call!” she implored, looking up at the sky as though the answer to her troubles would fall before her. From all around her, the cyan light glowed bright, until it exploded upwards, a column of magical might, piercing through the clouds and striking the heavens, leaving a sole spot of light in the otherwise gloomy sky.

And something did, indeed, fall down to her, and it fell with a scream that cut itself short as the being, a blue hedgehog, faceplanted in the dirt road.

This wasn’t what Sonic had been expecting out of today.

He lifted his face, shaking away the gravel, and scrambled to his feet, scampering forward until he caught one chilidog that, like him, fell from above, and then leapt in the other direction to catch the second one just before it hit the ground. Sonic sighed in relief, bringing himself back to his feet and taking a look around.

“Hey… where am I?”

The sound of footstep behind him prompted him to turn around, and he saw the girl approach him, her eyes widening and her lips parting as she looked upon him. For a second, no words came from her, but she appeared to find her tongue quickly. “Being from a distant world, forgive my abrupt summons!” She knelt beside him, still shaking from her run, and slid her hood down, revealing delicate features and long, pointed ears.

That’s not something you see every day on a human…

Movement from over her shoulder distracted Sonic from the girl’s unusual ears, prompting him to look over at the group of beasts in armor, which were beginning to encroach upon them. Sonic took a look behind him, beholding the armored man who stood stock-still, beholding him without a word, his shadowy aura growing thick around him.

Sonic let out a chuckle, quickly finishing off one of the chilidogs in his hands. It didn’t seem like he would be having lunch with Amy after all, but he couldn’t let such a delicacy go to waste. Making a mental note to apologize to his friend once this was over and maybe reschedule the whole thing, Sonic tossed the second chilidog to his other hand, spinning it idly around as he spoke to the girl. “Oh, I get it,” he reassured her. “No problem! I’m used to stuff like this!”

Enemies all around? Overwhelming sense of dread? Tension in the air so thick you could choke on it?

He was called in to fight and rescue this girl, he was sure of it.

With a grin, he threw his snack up high into the air and dashed off, leaving behind a gust of wind as powerful as a shockwave. He vaguely heard the girl gasp as he ran through the cluster of armored enemies, creating another shockwave that, to his surprise, made them evaporate without any more fuss. Sonic pushed the surprise away 一 there was bound to be a reason why, and it wasn’t like he had to know it now or anything 一 and refocused on returning to his spot, catching the chilidog before it was anywhere close to the ground.

He glanced back at the girl, who was staring at him with open astonishment, her hand in front of her mouth and her eyes wide. Sonic allowed himself a small, self-satisfied smirk at demonstrating his abilities so cleanly, then turned back toward the last enemy, the armored man, who still hadn’t moved from his spot and was still staring at him.

Sonic began spinning his snack around again. “Don’t forget to blink,” he taunted, and finally, the man moved, bringing his sword 一 a bright, golden blade that didn’t match his dark getup at all 一 up and before him. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen a face like yours,” the man said, pointing the tip of the blade at Sonic.

“Yeah, I’m not surprised. You’ve got all that armor in front of your eyes! How about I knock it away and you can get a real good look--”

“No, you mustn’t!”

A hand grabbed tightly over his arm, stunning him enough that he fumbled with his free hand and sent his chilidog tumbling to the ground. Sonic looked from his ruined treat to the girl who stopped him as she swung her staff before them both, causing a vortex of dirt and wind to surround them. As Sonic felt himself begin to get pulled away, he reached out a hand to his fallen treat and the final enemy that he had yet to even try to defeat, but it was all in vain. The armored man charged forward, but his sword only struck empty air.

The man cursed under his breath, turning away from the vanishing point and walking a few paces away, crushing the chilidog underneath one of his boots without a second thought. “She’s slipped away from me again,” he growled, the dark aura around him growing stronger. “And now she has an ally of the worst kind…”

The man kicked at the ground, wiping some of the remains of meat and beans away as he did so, and wasted no more time in jumping into the air and transforming back into a raven, shedding a single feather as he soared away, over hills and valleys, clearing a town and swooping over the outer wall of a magnificent castle, landing before five people standing in wait, clad in polished, presentable armor. He transformed back into his true form, and all five knelt before him, bowing their heads without hesitation.

My knights...

For just a moment, the man’s gaze swept over the five before him, something akin to pride sparking deep within him, before the feeling extinguished itself as quickly as it came, leaving nothing but coldness in its wake.

“She’s escaped me again, but I shall continue to give chase,” he informed them, seeing a few ears perk up as he spoke. “At this point, I cannot stand another day knowing that she evades me. Spread out, and slay her on sight. I no longer care if it is by my hand or not.”

Five heads nodded, still bowed, and the man felt satisfied until he remembered the other important piece of information.

“She has recruited an ally, a magical warrior. You will know him when you see him. Do not fall for his tricks, and slay him as well. Mercy is not an option. We have no time to lose.”

With that, the man turned away and leapt into the air again, transforming back into a bird to continue his search, while behind him, the five lifted their heads and got to their feet.

“That was vague,” one spoke; a green hawk with two fanned blades.

“Hush, Brother,” another one said; a purple cat wielding a rapier. “Our king has much to handle and no time to spare. It is our duty to help shoulder his burdens as best as we can.”

“I apologize, Percival,” a third one piped up; a pale gray hedgehog with long spines, “but I must agree with Lamorak. We do not know what this ‘magical warrior’ of hers looks like!”

“More likely than not, he will be travelling with her,” yet another spat; a black hedgehog with red streaks in his fur. “If we find one, we will almost certainly find the other, and even if we don’t, our king has made it clear that we will know him when we see him. Now, let us depart.”

“But must we?” the final one asked; a red echidna with two axe-like swords. “She is the Royal Wizard, after all!”

The black hedgehog’s head snapped over, his voice taking a hard edge as he spoke. “She was the Royal Wizard, and in any case, the king’s orders are absolute, Gawain.”

“Yes, but--”

“We have been given our task,” the gray hedgehog said, walking up between them both. “If he demands that they be slain, then slain they shall be.”

This seemed to pacify the black hedgehog, who nodded once before racing off, with the gray hedgehog close behind. The one named Gawain heaved a sigh as the one named Percival approached him. “Without loyalty to the king, we are nothing,” she reminded him sternly, though the next second she looked off to the horizon, where the hedgehogs had become little more than specks. “Still, the king… he has changed,” she murmured, much softer and thoughtful. “And this kingdom…”

“That would be putting it lightly,” the one called Lamorak scoffed, nudging Percival with his shoulder, much to her annoyance. “I need no magical gifts to see that there are troubling times ahead of us. However, there is not much else for us to do.”

“Only our jobs, and to trust our king’s judgement,” Gawain finished the thought, looking at one of his blades with a resigned slump to his shoulders. “Very well. I shall not be the one to disappoint him.”

Yet even with those words, the unease did not leave the knights as they left the castle walls in search for their targets.

#Smash speaks.#Sonic and the Cursed King.

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ga-yuu · 3 years

Text

~Kurama~Main Story Chapter 8~

This is my favorite chapter!!!!

Chapter 7

-------Part 1-----

Kurama: “...............I don’t like beasts that flatter me like cats. I’d rather....”

Benkei: “Have good sake and snacks?”

Kurama(smile): “You understand me well. Let’s quickly end this crappy battle and return to Hiraizumi in triumph.”

(....I wonder if Kurama is even aware.)

The expression on Kurama's face, which had been so bored just a moment ago, has changed.

To be alive and well since Benkei-san's arrival.

Benkei: "Hey, Kurama. Don't fight too hard. You'll have a hard time keeping up."

Kurama: "Don't give me orders. Killing four or five soldiers is nothing to me."

Benkei: "It's no use taking sense to you----Look out!"

(Ah)

After a quick kick to the horse's stomach, Benkei-san switches places with Kurama.

My body shook from the impact and Kurama easily supported me.

Kurama: "He has good instincts for a man of his size."

Benkei: "Why does size matter?"

The white blades of miscellaneous swords and swords in an arc as the horse in driven attack the enemy.

After that----

Enemy soldier 10: "RETREAT! RETREAT!

Kurama attacked and Benkei-san defended in the form that had somehow become solidified.

At last, the rebels succeeded in repelling the enemy.

Kurama: "That's it? Man, that didn't even pass my boredom."

Benkei: "Your leisure time may have given the enemy survivors nightmares for a while though."

(-----I got it! I finally understand the strange feeling I've had for so long.)

I remember a conversation I had with Kurama before I came here.

------FLASHBACK------

Kurama: "I will not allow Benkei, Yoshitsune's property, to die in vain, so that his sword and his soul may be clouded."

Kurama: "And."

Yoshino: 'And?"

Kurama: "Benkei is good at making snacks."

-----FLASHBACK ENDS-----

(I think Kurama probably meant what he said at that moment.)

(But I know that I, the enemy, saw it.)

If they didn't recognize each other, they wouldn't be able to work together in battle, they wouldn't be able to have a friendly conversation like that...

(Kurama seems to not realize....that he loves Benkei.)

-----Part 2-----

(Kurama seems to not realize....that he loves Benkei.)

What came to mind was the conversation we had on the way to this place with the soldiers.

-----FLASHBACK------

Yoshino: "But Kurama's words inspired the soldiers. If they'd only been afraid, they would have shriveled up, wouldn't they?"

Kurama: "In this army, my identity is supposed to be that of a kind of foreign warrior who helps Yoshitsune. That's why those who worship Yoshitsune so blindly are so annoyingly humble towards me."

Yoshino: " I see. Hmmm........"

Kurama: "I don't know what you're obsessed with, but I don't see the point in questioning me."

Yoshino: ".....I don't understand myself."

------FLASHBACK ENDS-----

(In the rebel army, Kurama has behaved as he wanted. But...)

Despite his overwhelming power, Kurama does not try to deceive or manipulate people.

How much does that inspire his side?

(Kurama himself is too uninterested to know how important he is in the rebel force.)

(And yet, he won people's hearts despite their awe.)

Kurama: ".....? This woman is not moving. Is she dead?"

A suspicious tap on my cheek brings me back to reality.

Yoshino(blushing): "Yes, I'm alive."

Benkei: "I thought you were scared because we're on a rampage."

Kurama: "She's not that kind of woman. .....Oh, I get it now."

Yoshino: "Eh?"

Kurama: "You obeyed my order when I said you to sit still like an ornament. I see you're finally learning to be promising."

In a good mood, Kurama played with a tuft of my hair with his fingertips.

Yoshino(blushing): "Um sorry, but I was thinking of something else....

Kurama: "What?"

Benkei: "......................! Okay, I have a lot to ask, but first....when did you two get so close?"

----"We're not", is what Kurama and I replied at the same time, to Benke-san's question.

.................

Benkei: "......And also fox princess, became our prisoner."

------Part 3-----

Benkei: "......And also fox princess, became our prisoner."

After Benkei-san and Kurama turned back to the rebels encampment and were greeted with cheers.....

Out of sight of the soldiers, I was being interrogated by Benkei-san.

Yoshino: "....What will happen to me now?"

Benkei: "At any rate, we will take you to Hiraizumi. We'll have to ask Yoshitsune-sama for his judgment."

Kurama: "I'll tell you what, I picked her up and I'll do what I want with her."

Yoshino: "Wait...."

Naturally, he pulls me by the shoulders and my vision turns black.

Benkei: "Huh? What's the matter with you, Kurama?"

Kurama: "This ordinary woman has taken me by surprise, either by accident or inevitably, with her crazy behavior. If I keep her in my hands, I might see something unusual again."

Benkei: "Humans are not demon's lapdogs."

Kurama: "It's strange. Until today I thought you were no better than animals."

Benkei-san facepalms at Kurama's words.

Yoshino: "Um....Benkei-san."

Benkei: "Just call me Benkei. You call Kurama by his first name right. Do the same for me."

Yoshino: "Eh? ......Okay."

(He looks scary....but from the way he treats his men, he doesn't seem like a bad guy.)

But still, I kept my face up feeling alert.

Benkei: "You're the enemy, but apparently you've swept the heart by our demon. I....sympathize with that."

Kurama: "When did she sweep my heart? Do you think I have a lot of free time for her?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1. I feel like I've not swayed....

2. When you say it like that....(+4/+4)

3. You didn't know what you were doing?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yoshino: ".....It's strange because when you say it out loud, I feel like I've not swayed at all."

Kurama: "....? What are you taking for granted?"

Yoshino: "Ehhh....."

(Well, for Kurama, it means he just did what he wanted to do.)

Yoshino: "Umm...Thank you for your concern, Benkei. But I would like to ask you one question, did the Shogunate get out of the war safely?"

(Maybe I shouldn't be asking this of my enemies but....)

(I have no other way to get information now...)

Benkei: "........The Shogunate has withdrawn. The damage was only moderate. But unfortunately....."

------Part 4------

Benkei: "........The Shogunate has withdrawn. The damage was only moderate. But unfortunately.....They have lost their precious fox princess, which is a painful split when you think about it."

Yoshino: "I........"

I squeezed my fingertips in disappointment.

Benkei: "On second thought, it might be a good opportunity for you to get rid of the Shogunate. Yoshitsune-sama is not the one who takes the life of a woman who has no intention to fight against him."

Yoshino: ".....It's harder to do than hearing it...."

Kurama: "It's hard? Why not? Wouldn't you rather live it up?"

Yoshino: "I want to live. But I am a member of the Shogunate, even if my time is short."

Benkei and Kurama: "...........!!!"

Yoshino: "Because today I learned...Benkei is a man who would die for his men, and the rebel soldiers have a bond that allows them to fight for their friends. Perhaps Yoshitsune-sama is worthy and noble to be a lord of such people."

Benkei: "......He is."

Yoshino: "That's why it's so hard to stay an enemy."

When I muttered this Benkei's face lit up.

Kurama: "You're weak, but you're going to hold your ground in enemy territory."

Yoshino: "If I don't, I won't be stronger."

Benkei: "You do wanna die young, do you?"

Yoshino: ".....I don' wanna die."

(But....)

Yoshino: "-----For he who is gripped by fear is as good as not alive."

Kurama: ".......!"

Kurama immediately realized where the slurred words had come from.

-----FLASHBACK-----

Yoshino: “So you chose not to kill him....?”

Kurama: “He who is gripped by fear is as good as not alive. What is the use of slaying the dead?”

-----FLASHBACK ENDS-----

Kurama: ".....Cheeky woman."

A smile appeared on Kurama's lips and Benkei's eyes widened as if he saw something unusual.

..................

(I can't sleep.)

There was no way that I could escape from the encampment, which was under guard.

I'm sitting in front of my tent, looking up at the stars when----

Kurama: "What are you doing here?"

------Part 5-------

Kurama: "What are you doing here?"

Yoshino: "OH, hey Kurama."

Kurama: "Don't raise your voice."

I saw Kurama looking down at me, apparently passing by on his way to his tent.

Yoshino: "Are you not feeling sleepy?"

Kurama: "Demons don't need sleep, unlike you humans. So I went to steal Benkei's sake and snacks."

When looked closely, Kurama was holding a sake bottle in his hand.

Yoshino: "Do you like sake that much?"

(He also seems to be obsessed with snacks made by Benkei.)

Kurama: "Sake is the next best thing to fighting the strong."

Yoshino: "Even better than flying?"

Kurama: "If it's delicious, then yes."

Kurama replied languidly and then suddenly pulled my arm.

Yoshino: "What....?"

Kurama: "I've got a good idea. Entertain me while I'm occupied with my sake and snacks."

.................

While I was in a daze, Kurama brought me inside his tent.

Kurama: "Come on, do it."

Yoshino: "Even if you say that....all I am good at is making medicines."

Kurama: "It's not worth talking about. You can only heal wounds, but can't win a fight."

Kurama sits in a daze sipping his drink feeling bored.

(I'm in trouble...)

Yoshino: "But if you save someone's life, don't you save your forces from diminishing?"

Kurama: "There is no power that can hold together the lives of so many. The moment a man is injured and dies, you know he was a weak man."

Yoshino: "I want to help all of them together, the weak and the strong, but...."

(No good. I'm sure this story will always be parallel.)

I took a deep breath and said out what I was thinking.

Yoshino: "Why does Kurama hate boredom so much?"

Kurama: "If you live long enough, you'll need stimulation. It's only natural. The soul seeks a grittier battle, a more polished strongman. All this fighting today has made my blood run cold."

(Surely, Kurama looked bored. But....)

Yoshino: "But Kurama seemed to enjoy fighting with Benkei."

Kurama: "What?"

Yoshino: ".....Didn't you realize that yourself?"

Kurama: "----What do you even know about me? I gave you the right to speak and now you're getting on my head."

In the darkness of the tent, Kurama's eyes seemed to glow, and I shuddered.

(Ah....)

A hand reached out and touched my cheek as if to test my reaction.

(I can't retreat here.)

This reckless war of mine has been going on ever since I met Kurama again in Kamakura.

If I stay frozen for one more time, I will never be able to stand up to him.

Yoshino: ".....I certainly don't know anything about Kurama. But still, the weak observe the strong."

Kurama: "................."

Yoshino: "At least it's faster for me to get to know Kurama.... than for Kurama, who has no interest in humans, to get to know me."

Kurama: "-----Those eyes."

Yoshino: "hmm?"

The fingertips on my cheek, come up within a touching distance of my eyeballs.

I didn't have to raise my voice because----

The emotion in Kurama's eyes was neither anger nor contempt.

Kurama: "I don't like your eyes. I hate the way how it's shining so strangely in the dark night."

Chapter 9

#ikemen series #ikemen genjiden #ikemen genjiden kurama #ikemen mc #cybird #ikemen games #cybird ikemen #main story translations #otome

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sebastianshaw · 3 years

Text

Gud morning, this is Munday when I post a bunch of random OOC to try to cut down on what I post the rest of the week! - My mom looks so old and ugly in pictures and like. . .she does not look like that at all in real life. And it gives me comfort because I look awful in my photos too. My pictures look NOTHING like what’s in the mirror. I know I am prettier than that. So seeing the same thing happen to someone else is validating in that ok so I’m NOT just delusionally vain, the camera indeed doesn’t like me. She says she’s never been photogenic either. We have the same coloring so I think that might be it. - I think it’s hilarious that my top three favorite books are The Last Unicorn, A Little Princess, and Jurassic Park. Like, you’ve got a very beautiful tragic ethereal fairytale, a just-after-the-Victorian-era Cinderella story about the power of imagination and about remaining graceful and kind at all times, and. . . .all-female sex-changing genetic monsters run amok killing the men who tried to control them gruesomely (no srsly everyone who dies is a man as a consequence of there being only two female characters to begin with) And like The fact all of these struck a deep chord with me since a young age says a lot about me, I think. - SPEAKING OF UNICORNS so I’ve been shopping around for supernatural RP boards to join when I have time (probably not til after this month), and I’ve narrowed it down to 2-3, but today I saw another and what really stuck out to me is that among the witches, vampires, and wereanimals was a custom playable species they called a re’em. These “re’em” are people who can transform into a horse-like creature with one, two, or zero horns, and could choose either a warrior or healer powerset. So, basically, wereunicorns. And I just thought this was genius not simply because I love unicorns, but because. . .ok, so you know how the King James translation (aka the worst one lol) of the Bible had unicorns in it? The word they translated as “unicorn” was “reem” or “re’em” Now, as it turns out, the word “re’em” actually most likely referred to an auroch, a massive breed of now-extinct wild cattle (of which I am also a fan) but for a long time, no one could figure out what it was. Rhinos, wild ox, white goats, and the beautiful Arabian oryx (seriously, look it up, it’s GORGEOUS) were all considered candidates for the mystery as well; some translations do use the oryx instead, though I personally prefer the auroch. . . and, I won’t lie, I really like the unicorn version best even though I know it’s only there because they just couldn’t figure out wtf this powerful horned animal could be. But yeah so. . . having your unicorn-based shapeshifters call themselves re’em is honestly really clever (I’m guessing they decided just calling them unicorns/wereunicorns/etc sounded hokey?) I don’t think this is the board I’ll be joining but goddamn I do like that. Especially since it includes BOTH characterizations of unicorns in lore----vicious and wild vs peaceful healers. I personally like mine as gentle healer sorts but I love the research being shown here! - I recently found out about a very obscure mythic beast from heraldry called the lampago. It's a tiger or lion with a human face. And I can see why it's so little known because. . .that's not scary? That is considerably LESS scary than a regular tiger or lion because it lacks the teeth that a predatory big cat has. I can see why the manticore took off a lot more; yes, it's a lion with the head of a man too, but ALSO the giant tail of a scorpion and three rows of large sharp teeth. That's fuckin scary. - Fun fact: Nepotism means favoritism given to family members, such as a CEO appointing his son to a high position just because it's his kid. It comes from the Latin root "nepos" meaning nephew because many Catholic popes and bishops in the past gave preferential positions to their nephews (since, having taken vows of chastity, they didn't have sons, although it has been pointed out how some sure seemed to have a lot of "nephews" with no fathers in the picture. . . ) - At the risk of sounding like I’m kinkshaming or harshing anyone’s preferences (I’m not, I get why people have this fantasy + why it’s appealing) whenever I see someone at a board placing a Want Ad for their character’s abusive ex/stalker/other figure who is generically evil and sexually obsessed with theirs. . .I kinda always wonder who they expect to respond? Not because it’s a “dark” character, I play plenty of villains, but because it’s a character by design meant to entirely revolve around theirs. And since it’s one-sided, with their character being the ever-pursued victim who doesn’t want this, the bad guy’s player inevitably (in my experience) is the one who has to do everything and push everything forward and all the victim’s player has to do is write woeful reactions. And the victim, of course, gets to be a fully fledged character with other stuff going on, but the intent of the villain is just to be 24/7 built around the victim. I’m sure it doesn’t ALWAYS turn out like that, just, that was my experience when I played those types of characters on occasion by the requests of my partners in the past (I don’t anymore) I wanted to make my partner happy and give them their fantasy, and they always told me how good I was at it, but I never enjoyed it. Besides finding it really squicky and uncomfortable for me, it was also so . . .unrewarding for the reasons mentioned, because I was doing all the work and my partner got all the pleasure. It just wasn’t any fun for me and felt like I was getting the short of the stick while they got off and now whenever I see people asking for this that’s all I can think of, like “I get why you want this, but who wants to be the OTHER half of it? What do YOU bring to the table for THEM?” which I think really someone should always ask in RP anyway. - Single ply toilet paper is for mice, not humans. It’s for nesting material. I can’t believe anyone thinks it’s for butt wiping. No way. - Fun fact: Despite sounding like a suburban white hipster spelling of Kevin, the name “Kayvan” is in fact an unrelated Persian male name. It can be a first name, as with Kayvan Novak, or a last name as with Anthony Keyvan. - I kinda wanted to celebrate my Ukranian Slavic heritage this Halloween by dressing as a Byzantine woman or the Sultana Roxelana, but they don’t sell costumes like that and I’m too lazy to make one and like. . .no one would get it anyway.

#out of shirt

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pomegranates-and-blood · 3 years

Text

Athazagoraphobia (250 Drabble)

250 Celebration Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Prompt: Athazagoraphobia - (n.) the fear of forgetting, being forgotten or ignored, or being replaced

Word Count: 1003 (I’m really struggling with the less than 1k words huh?)

Warnings: Angst, lost love

A/N: I’m not making it to the five drabbles of today, I’ll post a couple of em, and the rest tomorrow. I’m sorry, but I’m a mess atm and I can’t write as much (or as well) as I’d like to. Anyways, I hope you like this, and thank you!

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius @xbellaxcarolinax @1950schick @ietss @peachyboneless @encounterthepast @xceafh @maggiescarborough @chibisgotovalhalla

You grip the edge of the ship tightly, watching the silhouette of the city taking form in the distance. A navy accompanies you, your fame precedes you; and yet you have become nothing but a wide-eyed girl with a too-soft heart the moment you saw that city in the horizon.

In all these years, you have asked yourself many times why you never returned to him, you have asked the Gods why Fate was that you forged a life across the sea from your heart, you have asked the seeresses of how he fares and whether he has forgotten you.

The answers to those questions are difficult. Some evade you, some you ignore, and some you know.

You know you haven’t returned because you found a home in the thrill of discovery; you know when he drowned on the way to England your heart broke and died in that sea, and the loss hurt too much for you to forge a life near him; you don’t know whether his heart remembers yours still, but the old and battle-worn hammer of Thor that hangs from your neck even today tells you yours does remember his.

The ships dock, and you have no more time for reminiscing.

You think you catch sight of a few familiar faces in the crowd, but the inked face of your youth approaches, and you smile with ease. He greets you with a shout of your name as you descend from your ship.

Harald approaches with a smile, and places with strong and familiar hands on your shoulders.

“It has been too long,” He laughs, “You travel with my brother to those strange lands before joining me in a raid. I should be offended.”

You shake your head, “I’d spent a few winters here already. I am not one to be tied to places, Harald.”

His smile turns to that of the King, to that of the scheming man that taught you much of what you know, and his eyes narrow.

“But you are tied to people, it seems. You return now.”

“You know why I’m here.” You state without hesitation.

“I know what you’re here for, I don’t know why.”

You motion for him to lead the way, and after a huff he does, with sure steps and the annoying expression of the cat that got the mouse.

The doors open and familiar faces greet you, though the throne room is almost deserted. When you cross the doorway three men raise their heads, ready to tell you to leave, but of course they don’t.

You don’t recognize the dark-haired man that’s with the boys you grew up with, but he doesn’t say a word.

“You came.” Hvitserk breathes, standing up and crossing the distance between you in long strides.

Before you know it, he wraps his arms around and lifts you up, huffing a laugh as you hold on tightly to his shoulders.

It feels familiar, he still smells and feels and sounds the same, and regret clogs at your throat. When you pull away, you look into his eyes,

“Your father, your mother-…I’m…I’m sorry. I should have come back sooner.”

“You are here now,” He promises, brow against yours and smile wide and easy on his lips, “That’s what matters.”

“But why are you here, huh?” Ivar taunts, cold and cruel. You try to ignore the pain it sends all the way to your chest to hear his voice again for the first time in so many years and have it be laced by hate, distrust, fury.

“You are planning on attacking Kattegat. You need as many warriors and shieldmaidens as you can get.”

“I don’t need you.” He snarls back, and you step to the side, moving yourself out from behind Hvitserk. You meet his unyielding blue eyes and stand your ground.

“People you can trust are always needed, Ivar.”

His head tilts to the side, and the curve of his smile is cruel when he says, “That’s the thing, I can’t trust you.”

You don’t waver, lifting your chin and stating, “Learn how to, then. I’m not leaving you to fight alone.”

Refusing to stand for another second the vitriol in the eyes that once looked at you with nothing but love, you turn around and leave the throne room.

Later, with the darkness of night embracing you, you find yourself standing at the edge of Tamdrup’s forests, leaning against an old tree and watching older ghosts dance before you.

You feel a presence behind you, and the unfamiliar sound of their steps startles you. Ivar stands behind you, his hand on a crutch at his side, his legs surrounded by iron.

You say nothing, eyeing him carefully as he moves closer to you. You study the way he now walks, the workings of the braces on his legs that look painful; you study the longer hair, shaved at the sides and braided to the back of his head; you study the older, more angular face of the man you love, the eyes of familiar hue but yet so foreign in their coldness.

“You’ve accomplished a lot, shieldmaiden,” Ivar starts, lacking the vitriol and cruelty from earlier. You could swear he sounds proud. “Defended Ribe, travelled to new lands…”

“So have you. Repton, York. And soon, Kattegat.” You remind him. Ivar smiles, but it is barely the pull of the side of his mouth.

A deep breath, and he asks, “Why are you here alone?”

“Alone?”

His eyes pierce into yours, but he says nothing, forcing you to understand the meaning behind his words.

You lower your gaze with a foolish smile on your lips. You fetch the pendant of Mjolnir that even after so many years still hangs from your neck, and trace over the old metal with gentle fingers.

“Someone I loved gave me this in exchange for my heart. I still have this,” You lift your gaze to his, find finally familiar blue eyes looking back. “And he still has my heart.”

____

This one will be continued in Inevitable, a Kiss prompted drabble. I’ll post it somewhere before the end of the week!

Thank you so much for reading, I love you!

#ivar the boneless x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar #250holyfuckthankyou #250 holy fuck thank you

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under-the-blood-moonlight · 3 years

Text

Incubus AU

ft. WoL (Niqesse) & Emet-Selch

"... And by the end of the month you have to hand over your studies about summoning a Carbuncle." and with these words her teacher leaves the room. How could I ever manage to finish this task?

Magic was still new to the young warrior of light, it's been only a few week since she figured out that she could use aether at all.

Niqesse takes her books and leaves for her private chambers. She would need to spend a long time in the library to read about summoning, how it works and what would be needed. Using her aether was still strange to her and felt wrong, but what she could do was research and this was one of her specialties.

After having a little refreshment Niqesse went to the library. Here she was sure she could find answers.

...

"now then, where to start? Father has his tomes strictly sorted. This will make it easier to find what I am looking for, but..." as she looks at the book register the woman swallows. There are too many books that held information about the use of aether and summoning.

Magic was still new to the young warrior of light, it's been only a few week since she figured out that she could use aether at all.

After having a little refreshment Niqesse went to the library. Here she was sure she could find answers.

"by Halone, why isn't there a single book just named 'carbuncles and how to summon them'? Noooo, that would be too easy. Fine then, let's start with the research of the use of aether." after all the young woman needed some more practice on this subject.

Niqesse spend days in the library, reading. And finally she feels like trying out to summon a carbuncle.

While the woman was studying she found already a book that contains a summoning spell for a black carbuncle. She put it aside for later and later was today.

Niqesse took a deep breath in and holds it for a moment till exhaling. "Alright, let's do it. Can't be that hard, now can it?" she walks over to the book, it's laying on the table separated from the others.

Something feels off, wasn't the book green? On the table lays a black covered book. The mage opens the book and looks at the summoning spell and circle. It seems like the same, but she wasn't sure. It's been a few days and all these circles still look the same to her.

The Warrior of Light draws the summoning circle of the book into the air with her aether.

"Dolores inferni circumdederunt me, et ligabunt te. Et vocavi te nomine tuo. Infernum demergeris."

She waits for the carbuncle to appear, but nothing seems to happen. "that's... Uh... Wait, what I just said... Did I... No."

"Yes you did, foolish girl."

Pale as the moon Niqesse turns around to look at a half naked man, only covered with a tiny piece of clothing. He didn't seem happy at all, his horns and the flicking tail didn't help to give another expression.

"excuse you? Who are you and why are you..." she looks down on him and blushes deeply.

"you third ranked mage summoned me here and bound me to this body.... To THIS! Release me at once!" the man demanded with his arms crossed.

Niqesse blinks and looks at a very angry face that had something familiar to her. A garlean eye? Like hers?

"who are you to order me? If I really summoned you... Then... You have no power over me. And I shall not release you with that attitude! Now tell me, what is your name?"

"you can call me Solus." he answers her with a bitter tone.

"that can't be, Solus? Like Solus zos Galvus, The garlean Emperor?"

"ah so you have heard of me."

Niqesse blinks again. She has no words for this, this must be a lie.

"cat caught your tongue?" Solus smirks.

She shakes her head, this is too weird.

"now then, say something."

"lair. You can't be him, it's impossible. Garleans can't use magic and -" he cuts her off. "yet you are wielding your aether quite well for a half garlean? So why should I not be able to do the same?"

He was right and something was totally different about him. Yes the tail and horns are a dead give away.

"well, you can call me Emet-Selch if that's easier for you."

"fine. Emet-Selch. I am Niqesse de Nox, sort of a pleasure to meet you. Maybe. Now how about we are getting you some... Clothing." the woman couldn't help but stare at him.

He raises one eyebrow, slowly. "why would we want that? Wouldn't you rather get rid of the last piece to have a full view?"

A strange looking tattoo was starting to glow on his lower belly, nearly as red as Niqesses face, which surprised even him.

Something was off.

#ffxiv writing #emet selch #Niqesse de Nox #my writing #and ty google translator for some latin #the first part is very tame! i got some nice brainworms about this whole au but you know me and wrting #its damn rare

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elles-writing · 3 years

Text

Enchanted forest - young!Thranduil x reader - Day 12

Enchanted forest

Pairing: Thranduil x reader

Warnings/triggers: -

Genre: kinda fluff?

Word: Enchanted forest – Day 12/13

Word count: 2740

A/N: Maybe part 2? Also, I’m not really feeling the best rn, so I will quickly edit this and post it. (I was too tired to post it yesterday, so I’m posting it today. I wanted it to be more poetic, but I don’t know.)

Tags: @dumbassunderthemountain @artsywaterlily @moony-artnstuff @claraofthepen @trxblemaker

Message me if you want to be added/removed from taglist.

Ever since Thranduil was a child, there was something, that drawned him to Mirkwood forest. It wasn’t the danger, of course. He was surrounded by guards all the time so he was safe, being the only child and in the line for the throne.

Which also meant a lot of duties.

But every single night, he would look out of window to the darkness of the forest. He already tried to find out what it was. The palace was a safe place. Nobody would just walk in there by themselves, and Mirkwood didn’t affected anyone in this kingdom.

One night, he couldn’t sleep. He was tossing in his bed and many thoughts were running through his head. A few hours before, his father, Oropher, tried to talk to him about a marriage. Thranduil knew it was something that would come up sooner or later, but it still made his blood boiling. He was talking to some elven princesses of other realms, but he still felt too young for courting or a marriage.

After another sleepless hour, he decided to get up. The moonlight was stronger today – it was a full moon – so he would perhaps read for a while.

He took one of his books he had on his desk, and sat down, next to one of those big windows he had in his chambers. He looked out and let his thoughts to run through his head. He didn’t tried to catch any of them and think of it more, he just let them to slip away, and perhaps come back. It gave him some peace and helped him to clear his head a bit.

Suddenly, he noticed a movement outside in the dark. His eyes narrowed. It wasn’t a spider, this creature was smaller. It wasn’t an elf, because it wasn’t graceful at all. He narrowed his eyes.

A human.

He didn’t knew why, but quickly got up, book being forgotten. He quickly took his bow and arrows and his sword, then soundlessly moving as a cat, through the shadows of halls of his home. He knew his father was asleep at this time of the night, so he couldn’t stop him.

Once he made it outside of the gates, sneaking out, he noticed the human. He stayed in the shadows, through he was much closer than before. He was studying the human and his eyes widened.

A human woman, whom made it to the palace? What a strange thing, he softly scoffed. He didn’t trusted easily, and this was much more suspicious, though he felt a need to come closer and find out who she was.

You remembered going to the forest for a walk, when it was getting darker. You wanted to turn around and go back, but it felt like the forest was alive and your path was nowhere to be seen. You walked futher, hoping you’d find a way out.

You didn’t knew how much time passed, perhaps a few hours. Your legs were aching, your mind was tired and hazy and the only light was sky with stars. Soon after, the trees became so thick you couldn’t see almost anything, only a few feet ahead. Every sound was scaring you, you were tired, hungry and thirsty. It felt like the forest was endless.

Finally, you noticed a blue lights. You came closer to them, feeling warmth radiating from them. You shivered in fear, but also a cold. When did the forest became so cold, in the middle of summer?

You had no idea

Your mind was telling you to reach to them and touch them, you didn’t realized that the forest was playing with your mind. Once you touched the light by the tips of your fingers, you hissed. A strange pain and hot waves shot through your body and you fell down. You silently cursed yourself for touching it.

Your body was tingling, nothing else, so you got up and decided to walk futher. Your legs suddenly didn’t hurted, your steps became lighter and quicker, somehow. You didn’t even realized that, though. You were deep in the forest. There was only way - through, as way back was lost hours before.

After another few hours you stepped near some huge castle. You couldn’t believe it and let out a silent cry. Finally, a place where you could ask for help, and maybe they would let you to rest for a while.

Slowly, an uncomfortable feeling was creeping through your whole body. Something, or someone, was watching you. You looked around, trying to figure out the direction. It was still dark, but the castle had some lights on a different places. Small fires, to be exact. It reminded you of a fairies from legends.

Thranduil was watching her. Her clothes didn’t looked like anything he knew, and she seemed to be curiously looking over the castle. She had no weapons, as much as he could see. He narrowed his blue eyes. Suspicious. He decided to step out, bow and arrow prepared. Even if she would try anything, he would be quicker. He worked hard for many years, and used his natural abilities of being quick and swift. As a warrior, he was surely not one to be messed up with.

„What is a human doing in Mirkwood?“ He said, still in shadows. The woman turned around quickly and rose her hands.

„I-I’m sorry, I got lost in a forest...I’ve been lost for hours-“ She said. The young prince wasn’t really into too many adventures, he was rather serious. But there was something about this woman...

The next thing he knew was that he was picking her up and yelling to get a healer. She fell apart, her skin was cold and her breathing soft. He runned through the corridors, the guards looking after him.

Once he placed the woman to the bed, he felt the need to stay near her. When the healer arrived, he stood to the corner and his icy eyes were wondering back to her face, again and again. She was beautiful. She looks like a fairy, he thought.

Then, one of his father’s guards stepped in, nodding at him to go with him. Thranduil quickly looked at the woman. Her cheeks had a slight blush, and a slight warm feeling warmed him inside.

Once he stepped to the throne room, he knew there was something wrong. His father was turned by his back to him and all the guards left. It was only Thranduil and Oropher. Not like a prince and a king. Like a father and a son.

There was a moment of silence. Oropher was more temperament than Thranduil, and so he couldn’t hide his emotions the way Thranduil could. The young prince sensed a bit of anger and surprise in the air, his father was surely trying to hold his emotions back from bursting out. He was maybe waiting for Thranduil to say something, but he didn’t dared to say anything. No. Just not yet.

The king took a deep breath.

„I hope that you understand what you just did.“ Thranduil nodded, though Oropher couldn’t see him.

„You just woke up the whole castle, son. Why was that?“ Now was Thranduil a bit surprised. He thought the guards told his father what happened.

„There was a woman, Ada,“ Thranduil started carefully.

„She fell apart, so I took her inside. She had no weapons and she was weak.“ Oropher turned to him and studied his son for a while.

„Was she a human?“ Thranduil opened his mouth to answer, when a soud of knock on the door appeared in the throne room.

„Come in,“ Oropher said. A guard and healer came in.

„My king,“ Both of them bowed. The healer looked at Thranduil, nervous.

„The woman has woken up,“ She said. „she was asking for the man who helped her.“ Thranduil looked at Oropher, who seemed to be thinking about it.

„I will go with you, my son.“ He said.

When you woke up, you realized you were warm. You tried to move, but someone pushed you softly back.

„You need rest,“ You’ve overheard a voice. You frowned. This voice was too soft, it didn’t sounded much like human’s voice...

You opened your eyes and noticed a woman, who was folding some clothes. You noticed her ears, with sharp ends, soft long hair and delicate movements while folding the clothes. Your mind was hazy, but it wasn’t like back in the forest. This was a haziness from medication. You closed your eyes and drifted back to sleep.

In a while, you woke up again, from a nightmare this time. The woman was looking at you, concerned.

„Please, I need him, I need to-that blonde man, blue eyes, I-“ You tried to catch your breath and calm down. She handed you a glass with some liquid, smelling like herbs.

„Drink this, this will help you to calm down,“ You were carefully sipping it. It tasted sweet, like honey. Soon, you closed your eyes to slumber, once again.

When Thranduil stepped in, he went closer, to take a look at her. He didn’t knew who this woman was, where did she came from and all of that, but he knew he wanted to stay close to her. To protect her.

She seemed to be asleep. She looked calm and in peace. Thranduil looked for any injury, but didn’t found any. He noticed her ears though – they had a sharp edges, her skin was soft and delicate, her hair seemed to be soft too. She’s an elf, he thought.

Oropher looked down at her, too. He raised a brow.

„So a human woman, you said?“

„I probably didn’t noticed. It was dark.“

You started waking up from your slumber, hearing two male voices. One of them said something like ‚Leave us alone,‘.

You blinked your eyes, trying to recognize his face. He leaned a bit forward, carefully. You could tell he was ready to pull away, but there was also something gentle about his moves.

„Where-where am I?“ You whispered. Your whole body was aching, your ears were itchy for some reason, and you wanted to eat something.

„In Mirkwood palace...my lady,“ He said, carefully picking words.

„Oh, I’m Y/N, there’s no need to call me a lady,“ You said, blinking as your vision cleared. You gasped. He was beautiful. His long blonde hair, blue eyes, delicate features...

„Are you alright, lady Y/N? Should I call for the healer?“ He asked. You looked away and blushed.

„Uh, no, just...would you help me to sit up? Please?“ His arm slid on your back and helped you to sit up. You felt sudden cold on your skin and covered yourself more with the blanket. You looked down. You were in your underwear, and your cheeks burned red. You looked up and realized he did the same.

„I, uhm...who are you?“ You asked. He looked firmly to your eyes, not sliding down.

„I’m Thranduil, the prince of Mirkwood,“ He kissed your hand. You felt a warm feeling inside of your body. Little did you knew he felt the same thing.

A few strands of your hair slided down to your face and you quickly placed them behind your ear. Wait, you frowned. You touched your ear again. It was pointy. You shook your head.

„No...no, this cannot...this can’t be...“ Thranduil looked at you, concerned.

„Would you hand me a mirror, please?“ You asked. He handed you a small mirror and you looked into it. Your jaw fell down.

You were an elf.

You looked closely at your skin, soft, perfect skin, soft lips, delicate features, shiny hair and pointy ears. You looked up on Thranduil.

„I-I’m an elf? What happened?“ Now it was him who was confused. „What else should you be, my lady?“ You looked back at yourself. Your face looked familiar, but strange at the same time.

„What if we would take a walk, and explain to each other what happened? I’m sure that fresh air and some food will make you feel better,“ He offered. You slowly nodded and nervously smiled.

„Oh, I would like that very much,“ Thranduil nodded and placed the mirror on it’s place.

„Would you like to rest, or to go right now, lady Y/N?“ He asked, blue eyes questioning. Though you were still in shock, you nodded. If there will be some food and fresh air, it could actually only help you.

„I would like to go now, thank you. I need to put on some clothes, though,“ You said and the prince handed you a few folded pieces of clothing.

„I will wait outside, my lady,“ He said and left you alone. Once he was outside, he let out a breath. He never felt like this towards a woman. What was that warm feeling spreading inside, whenever she smiled? Oh, her beautiful name, Y/N. That sounded like a name of a fairy! Wait...he frowned...was this...how does love feels like? He didn’t knew what to do. He won’t go to his father, because he knew him way too well, and he would say something like „Oh, my boy has grown up!“ And celebrate it as his own personal accomplishment.

Making it more awkward than it was supposed to be, as always.

You looked through the clothes, finding a two long shirts, trousers, a dress and another dress. One of them were simple dark green, the other dress were in lavander colour, tiny golden leaves embroidered around the waist and little silver stars and golden moon crescents around the edges of elbow-length sleeves. You decided to put on these.

You found a brush here and brushed your hair quickly. Then you carefully opened the door, revealing yourself to the prince. Your cheeks were dusted by rosy blush, as his eyes widened at the sight of you. In his eyes, you were stunning.

Since then, after you told the prince and the king what happened to you, they let you to stay, since you didn’t knew where else to go. You and Thranduil got closer over time, sharing the same favourite places around the palace and in the garden.

One day, you’ve been sitting in the garned, under your favourite tree. You were reading a book, while Thranduil was pacing around, clearly nervous about something. You softly smiled.

„What’s bothering you, mellon?“ He looked at you and quickly looked away. You frowned, closed your book and stood up. They would teach you elvish customs and all of that you didn’t knew, Elvish too.

„Mellon,“ you looked deep to his icy blue eyes and felt familiar butterflies in your stomach. He sighed.

„Amin mella le, melamin,“ He whispered with serious expression, one of his hands softly cupping your cheek. You smiled.

„You know I don’t speak that well Elvish. What does it mean?“ He took a deep breath.

„I love you,“ He said. He was about to go away, but you gently took his hand.

„Amin mella le, melamin.“ You tried to repeat. He turned to you, surprised. You just nodded, nervous, with a smile. A smile appeared on his face, too.

„Will you allow me to court you then, Y/N?“ You nodded and you both sat back to the grass, Thranduil carefully braiding your hair. You did the same, though it wasn’t an elvish courting braid at all, but a braid it was.

Now, you had to tell Oropher, somehow. Thranduil was more reserved to people he didn’t knew, Oropher was more temperament. Sometimes you overheard their arguments, which could get loud.

You were sitting at the dinner, Thranduil trying to figure out how to approach the subject, when Oropher noticed his hair.

„My son...so you and lady Y/N are finally courting?“ You and Thranduil choked on your meal.

„Well, yes father, we are,“ Thranduil said. Oropher smiled. The alcohol from wine he was drinking was kicking in.

„About time, my son. I’ve seen you looking at her ever since you’ve been showing her around. Let me arrange your wedding,“ He said and sipped on his wine again.

„We don’t want to rush anything,“ You said carefully, placing your hand on Thranduil’s to help him relax a bit.

„Oh, that’s a good statement too, lady Y/N. Good things take time,“ He said. You noticed Thranduil’s face, blushing. You pecked his cheek and didn’t let of his hand until the end of the dinner. He seemed to be glad.

#13daysofspookywritingevent #thranduil x reader #thranduil #the hobbit #the hobbit x reader #mirkwood #elf reader

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darkmist111 · 3 years

Text

Phantom Thieves Play Dungeons and Dragons

The Wander and the Worker

Akira had faced many trials, both legally and spiritually. He had also been a master of organization, stuffing as much activity as he could into a single year.

Yet this challenge nearly brought him to his knees.

“So you only add 2 to armor class?”

“No that's only for medium armor your un-armored right now.”

“Shit I should've picked a race with more dexterity.”

It was like herding cat's, without Morgana’s help.

“You guys ready? It's almost 5.” Akira said know that this group could double a session’s play time.

“Hold on I’m trying to memorize our modifiers.” Ann said squinting as she had forgot her glasses at home.

“Don't worry just remember your crap at everything not dexterity and charisma.” Ryuji said nonchalantly.

The plan was to get all the players to level 2 before they got to the main campaign, so Akira did this little mini session with 2 characters first so the players could slip into their roles.

“Alright are we ready to play?”

Ryuji had finally gotten Ann to stop fusing over her papers.

“As we’ll ever be I guess *sigh* I really hope I don't die at level 1 again.” Ann groaned.

“Hell yeah let's kick some ass!”

“Alright close your eyes and listen.” Akira took a deep breath and his voice changed.

“This is the world of Exceeden”

Akira peaked and caught the grins on his two friends faces.

“Unlike our world with disconnected planets, the world of Exceeden is but one layer stacked in-between other realms, but different from the other realms Exceeden did not occur naturally but was created by 20 core gods. The gods were once one shared in their love of their creation, however what they didn't know was it would grant them more power than even their unparalleled minds could imagine.

Jealousy, anger, spite, and rage broke them apart each believing their creation should go the way they decided and the 20 became 5. 6 of Law, 6 of Chaos, 2 of Good, 2 of Evil, and 4 to keep the balance.

While the realm has no supreme rule the cycles of mortals carry on. Empires rise and fall, stories are told and forgotten, until finally the sands of time cycle towards something or someone that can shatter the heavens despite their humble beginnings.

The year is 997 A.I.(After Invasion) and our story takes place on the continent of Almoria. While not the largest continent it houses a wide array of People and Cultures in no small part due to the many differences environments.

In the far north in the icy tundras Orc and Goliath tribes war against the Tiefling Solos Empire and their Minotaur allies even further north in the Shadow Lands.

Below that are the eternal plans of Sparks where wild magic hum and fae slip into our world. Bands of Centaur and Satyr dance across the fields, unknowingly starting war with the Leonin Clans.

On the east of the Great Sezali Desert a new and ambitious clan of HobGoblins are gathering their forces of Goblin and Bugbear.

This makes the Elven Allied Council to the west nervous and the desert has become a sort of cold war, but also a hive of activity for trade and merchants.

On the West Coast the Aarakocra war against the Triton and the East Coast, the legendary Tortle Cleric Genbu brokers peace between the Locathah and the Grung.

In the Mountains Kobold, Lizardmen and Dragonborn War against a unfathomable threat as the Chromatic dragons and Metal Dragons have united to control the Arcane Canyons.

With the fall of Tyrant Human King Rexanik, many flee to the peaceful mountains city of Eternix. The city, nicknamed the city of small folk, was almost completely Gnomes, Halfling, Dwarfs, as well as the Black Wing Monastery, suddenly has possibly the highest human density in the continent.

Humans have also tried their luck in the chaotic Forest of Nayan only to be never heard from again.

In the south peace is almost a certainty as the brotherhood between the Loxodon and Gith remains just a strong as a century ago. Their city Omniox hold the Verdan trading Guild the only constant in these turbulent times

Not all is so clear though, hidden in the desert are rumors of cults who use arcane, scientific, and religious methods to create inhuman monsters that stalk the night.

However it is that Desert where we start our story in the town of Ixyana. Ixyana is a port town to the sea of sand, willing to offer weary travelers any pleasure they require... for the right price. Ixyana has always been self governed but with escalating tensions between the Elven and HobGoblin armies, the town is being pressured to pick a loyalty. But today neither a Goblin nor Elf is the new stranger in town.”

“Ryuji please introduce your character.”

“I’m just a guy who looks like an average traveler, I’m wearing normal cloths and using a spear like a walking stick, the only unusual thing about me is that have blue skin and white “Hair”. I’m a Fighter but only because you get in fights when you wander as much as I do, but it's clear I’m not formally trained.”

The wanderer enters the town carrying a satchel over his back midday. He makes his way towards a inn looking to rest for the night. He hears a commotion and see several HobGoblin warriors speaking angrily toward each other, before rushing off. The young man enters into a alley to avoid crossing their path, as he steps out he sees another beautiful HobGoblin women in revealing clothes dart out from behind a stack of boxes. Before his eyes she begins to shift form before becoming a striking dark haired Elven women and quickly entering the Inn.

“Well That's a Flag if I’ve ever seen one.”

The man is overcome with curiosity and follows her. He enter the inn and sees the first floor is a diner/bar.

At this time of day not many people are drinking and lunch is already over so the inn is uncrowded.

The blue man sees the former HobGoblin women now Elven sit in the corner of the bar skillfully blending in for those not looking.

As he walks up to her she glances before biting her lip.

“Sorry I’m not working right now.”

You realize from her statement and her outfit that this women is one of the courtesans of the towns most powerful group in place of a formal government, The Desert Respite, worshipers of Bast one of the 20 original Gods and practitioners of the arts of pleasure both of a sexual nature and of entertainment.

“I still can believe your playing a Prostitute.” Ryuji says teasing.

“For your information I’m a high class escort. And let's see if you’ll be laughing in a few minutes.”

“Sorry it's not that I... I just... saw you change.”

The woman tenses her eyes narrowing and grits her teeth.

“So what?”

“Are... Are you a Spirit.”

The women slowly turns her head, seeing the nervous young man though in her eyes he's more of a boy shift his weight nervously.

“Perception check!”

“Roll for it.”

“...!!!! Natural 20!”

“Heh, yeah he's a pretty easy mark.”

“Hey!”

She smirks before tipping her drink back and gesturing to the seat across from her.

“From out of town.”

“Out from... everywhere.”

She changes her posture, trained but attractive.

“The desert must've been quite the ordeal, I didn't notice a Caravan enter town. Is your group somewhere else?”

“No, I’ve been traveling alone.”

“Alone?”

“Yes I am quite skilled at traveling, born and raised doing it in fact.”

“Incredible, you must be strong.”

The women bit her lip while the blue skinned man sweat feeling nervous from the shapeshifters forward flirtations.

“You know I have a certain need for a strong man.”

“Role Wisdom Ryuji.”

“What! She hasn't even cast anything.”

“Your mouth was dropped.” Ann teased. “Let's hope your character isn't a simp.”

“No way!”

Ryuji rolled.

“Shit! 6, 7 total.”

“Simp”

“Shut up!”

“What did- What do you need. I’m always looking to help out.”

“You see a girl can only stay in one town for so long before she needs a change of pace. I’m thinking you’ve been to plenty of places, why don't you and I go on adventure.”

The spearman let out a yelp as he felt her leg delicately trace his own.

“And I’ll be sure your thoroughly compensated.”

“Roll Perception against Ann’s Persuasion.”

“Yes!”

“Shit”

Ann rolled and grinned which caused Ryuji to hang his head.

“21 total Persuasion!”

“Goddamnit, 14 total.”

“Yeah she has you wrapped around her finger.”

“*Gulp* There’s no need for that ma’am, I'd be happy to guide you wherever you desire.”

The man saw her smile turn victorious and her leg rubbed a little higher.

“Don’t worry it's no trouble, when we stop for the night I can give you a nice and long compensating.”

_______________________________________

The pair quickly gather their things the shapeshifter, changing again into a stunning Yuan-Ti. They walked through the town. Some men stared at the shabby looking Traveler and the beautiful courtesan, leering at her exposed cleavage, open thighs, and toned belly, others smirked and gave respecting nods. He glared and the former while that latter made him feel like a scumbag.

She insisted they walk on foot so not to draw attention. The man frowned but didn't say anything.

As they walked they chatted.

“My names Zap by the way.”

“Nais of the Desert Respite.”

“So Nais, are you wondering what I am?”

“Probably not as much as your wondering what I am.”

“Well I don't know, I’ve never seen someone change what they look like except my dad.”

“Your dad?”

“Yeah, he’s a Genie.”

“...”

“...You're not joking?”

“Nope. A Lightning Genie to be specific.”

“Insight Check... 11?”

“He seems to be pretty honest.”

“So you can grant wishes?”

“He could, not me. I’m only half genie, my other half is Human from my mom. Dad said my type of people are called Genasi.”

“Where’s you dad now?”

“He’s only allowed to stay in the material plane for 20 years at a time. He left on my 10th birthday, I’m 22, so he’ll be back in 8 years. Though he’ll probably see my mom before me.”

“... You know that is a really weird story right?”

“I actually didn't know until later in life. For a long time it was just the 3 of us, then the 2, now me.”

“I see.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You can change into other things, is it magic?”

Nias looked away not wanting to meet Zap’s eyes.

“It's not magic it's just something I’m able to do, as well as my mother and her mother before her. She said that we might be descended from Doppelgängers.”

“That's amazing.” Zap said with awe.

“Perception Check!” Ann yelled out.

“Zap doesn't lie. He's a open book.”

“19!”

“Zap really does think your amazing.”

“Geez he doesn't have to try so hard I already said I’d fuck him.”

“Excuse me! But Zap is a gentleman he doesn't only think about sex.”

“Unlike his player.”

#persona 5 #phantom thieves #joker persona 5 #persona 5 ryuji #ryuji sakamoto #ann takamaki #p5 yusuke #yusuke kitawaga #makoto niijima #haru okumaru #p5 akechi #morgana #dungeons and dungeons #changlings #genasi

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rwbyvein · 3 years

Text

Firen Lhain: Chapter 602: Prismatic Confessions: Part III/III

Blake sat on one of the beds in her room, Ilia sitting across from her on the other.

"I guess... I should explain..." Blake voiced, and Ilia just looked at her nervously. "Yang was my partner back in Beacon."

"Like... Adam?.." Ilia asked.

"I was SO afraid she would turn out like Adam, but Adam is not freedom, not independence, not even power or justice, he - is - spite. Yang is strength. She doesn't really know what to do with it, but... she's - not - out - to - destroy - the world. I kept her at arms length for the longest time... and... I can't believe I said that."

"Blake?.." Ilia quietly voiced.

"Adam," Blake said, fighting back tears, "cut off - her arm." Ilia did a double take before looking back at Blake. "But, apparently that wasn't enough to stop Yang." Blake shook her head, causing the tears to fall away, and developed weird smile on her lips. She then wiped her eyes. "Next we have Weiss, the... former... heir... to the Schnee Dust Corporation."

Ilia developed a terrified look. "She?.."

"Was disinherited for trying to help the people of Remnant. She became a Huntress so her father, who married into the family, wouldn't be the one to define the family name. As you might imagine..." Blake said with a bright smile, "we did not - get along - that well - at first. We learned to trust each other, love each other. Next is Ruby, who is," Blake said, and paused, "hope incarnate. She's the reason the rest of the team, the reason everyone, got back together. Just being around her makes me hopeful we can succeed."

"And... the buck?.." Ilia asked.

"He prefers hart, through he's actually a Caribou." Blake warmly said to her, "He's the warmest, gentlest warrior I've ever met."

"He did not feel..." Ilia tried to say.

"He didn't hurt you." Blake voiced, "I've seen him strip Yang's considerable Aura with a single punch." Ilia looked at her with wide eyes. "You can't tell me it didn't feel warm being carried by him."

"Even if I was being carried under his arm?" Ilia asked.

"Whom are you trying to convince?" Blake asked her, and Ilia stared into nothing for a moment.

"Wh... why... are you telling me this?" Ilia asked.

"Because," Blake voiced, "if you join us, it wouldn't be as my girlfriend... but you will still need to know how I feel about everyone here."

Ilia looked off into nothingness as she thought this over.

* * *

Blake walked down the stairs, only to step into the sisters shouting at each other. She didn't hear what Ruby had originally said.

"Chill, sis!" Yang shouted, "Everyone knows I've got it going on."

"But!" Ruby tried to say.

"But what, Sis?" Yang asked.

"I mean..." Ruby voiced.

Blake looked around inside, not seeing Jaune anywhere. It wasn't until she looked out on the patio that she found him. She walked out to the patio, closing the door behind her. Jaune turned his head briefly to see who it was before looking back over the night.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you." Blake nervously stated.

"A lot of things happened today," Jaune voiced, "but I wouldn't say disturbed is one of them."

"I'm not bothering you, am I?" she asked, as she nervously walked up to him.

"I honestly don't know." he said, and the two stared out into the darkness. "Just... so much happened today. It doesn't seem real. Does it?" he asked, and turned to her.

She nervously tried to look at him, but had to look back out into the darkness. Jaune turned to join her. "It, "she voiced, "makes far more sense than it really should."

"It, what?.." Jaune asked. "We can't... can we?.. I mean..."

"I mean," Blake said, and moved slightly towards him, "it makes more sense than it should." Blake took another step towards him, and then another snuggling up to him. He shook with a start for a moment and then continued staring into the darkness. He moved his arm around Blake, hovering over her shoulder, unsure of what to do. She grabbed his hand and pulled his arm around her. "You've never been shy, before." she voiced.

"It's never meant this much before." Jaune voiced. "You girls were always so unattainable. The most I thought I could expect was friendship. And you, along with my team, are the best friends I've ever had. I just... never... thought..."

"Never thought, what?" Yang asked as she walked over. "I've seen the way you look at us."

Jaune turned just enough to look back at her, trying not to disturb Blake, "With... respect..."

"Well... yeah..." Yang voiced, "but a little somethin' else. I've seen your eyes wonder, if you know what I'm saying." And Jaune sighed in reply.

"Okay, yes, you're all so amazingly beautiful." he stated.

"And apparently last night it was a cat burglar, as she decided to jump to the front of the line."

"I just... needed... someone..." Blake voiced.

"I could have..." Yang tried to say.

"You were having a... talk..." Blake voiced, "with your sister."

"Is there?.." Jaune voiced, "Actually a line, or?.."

With this Yang sighed. "Sorry." she voiced, as she walked up to Jaune's free side. When he didn't react she spoke up. "You've got two hands, and I expect you to use them." Jaune quickly wrapped his arm around Yang's shoulder. "So, we didn't want to fight about this, but this is my play. I'm a babe, and you certainly know that. I've caught you staring."

Yang squeezed Jaune and then slipped out of his arm, before returning to the house, Jaune's head following her before looking back at Blake..

"And?" Jaune asked, "this is yours?"

"Two Faunus," she said with a pause, "with eye-shine, staring out into the night?" Blake asked, "How could it not?"

"Exactly." Jaune said with a smile.

* * *

Jaune and Blake stepped inside, when a burst of rose petals appeared in front of them. "Okay!" Ruby shouted.

"Ruby?" Jaune asked, and Blake respectfully stepped away.

"So, Yang-and-Blake-made-their-move-and-I-want-to-make-my-move-but-I-really-don't-know-what-but-just-know-that-you're-the-first-one-to-talk-to-me-and-I-don't-think-I-could-live-without-you-and-I-wanted-to-thank-you-for-coming-with-me-and-I..."

"Easy, Ruby." Jaune stated.

"but?.." Ruby tried to ask.

"I don't think I could live without you, either." Jaune grumbled, "Which is one of the reasons this is so... difficult..."

Weiss cleared her throat, and Jaune looked over to her. Weiss had a light blue flush, and hands tented in front of her face; when she dropped them he saw a smile, "I do believe it is my turn." Jaune gave her a nervous smile.

"Is this going to be fancy?" Jaune asked, and Weiss nervously looked down and around, anywhere but at him. Ruby turned to leave but Jaune quickly pulled her into a powerful hug. He then kissed her on the head, let her go, and turned back to Weiss.

"I suppose?" Weiss teppidly asked, "candour is in order." She nervously looked up into his eyes. She breathed in deep for a moment. "Yes?" she nervously asked, and he lightly sighed.

"Remember, I want to spend time with you." Jaune stated, and Aurora appeared behind Weiss.

"As I expected." Aurora said, and Weiss jumped. She turned to glare at her. "I have made alternate arrangements."

"Aurora!" Weiss admonished her, and then breathed in deep, "And they are?"

"Not quite as fancy," Aurora voiced, "as he says, but a lot more private."

Weiss then looked at Jaune. "Well, he does seem to enjoy the idea..." She then turned to Aurora, "Very well. Dress will be?"

"Formal." Aurora said, and Weiss looked expectantly at Jaune.

"I... uh... walked here... with the clothing on my back." Jaune voiced.

"We could..." Weiss tried to say.

"After poking the dragon's den... queen... bitch..." Jaune voiced, "I would rather NOT be without my armour.

"Huntsmen are normally except from formal dress requirements," Aurora stated, "unless they are... well... Qrow..."

"You got a problem?" Qrow asked, and Aurora brushed her chin as she looked at him. "What, you don't like my beard?"

"That - "Aurora voiced, "is not - a beard."

Weiss looked at her incensed until Qrow just started laughing out loud. He then stood up and looked her in the eyes, "I like you." he said, and Aurora nervously looked away. "Oh, man, she's a keeper, Weiss."

"I will take your accolades into consideration," Weiss replied, "though, so far, she has been fantastic."

* * *

Weiss and Jaune walked along the street, side-by-side as they followed behind Aurora. "So, tell me?.." Weiss nervously asked, "Did you truly walk across two continents with but one set of clothes?"

"Well," Jaune voiced, "I did bring spare socks and underwear."

"And... who has been cleaning it?.." Weiss asked.

"The laundry fairy." Jaune stated.

Weiss smiled for a moment, "I doubt you mean that seriously."

"I think it's Ren," Jaune stated, "though I'm not sure, but Ren seems like the most likely candidate."

"Are you?.. serious?.." Weiss asked him.

"100%," Jaune replied, "swear to the good god. My clothes were always clean by the time I was done bathing."

"You - bathed?," Weiss asked, "Out in the open?.."

"Ruby and Nora always turn around, and Pyrrha was the same way."

"And I suppose you were just as much of a gentleman?" Weiss asked.

"Of course." Jaune said. "Trust is incredibly important."

"And as a former noble, you have your honour to think of." Weiss said, and Jaune sighed. "I'm sorry, I did not mean..."

"No..." Jaune voiced. "Whether that's why, or not, I try to always mean what I say."

"Your earnestness is infectious." Weiss replied. "Just please stay your charming self, and not the one I first met."

"Uh... yeah..." Jaune said, and then let out awkward laughter. "I was pretty terrible." he added, and Weiss giggled.

"Looking back on it, it's almost a fond memory, but... yes... you were. I much prefer this charming gentleman."

"Hardly... gentle..." Jaune voiced.

"You can be a bit of a lummox, but you are always genuine, always wanting to help. Too bad it took being a bird locked in a cage to make me realize it."

"I kind of find that hard to believe." Jaune voiced.

"Oh?" Weiss asked.

"Being in a bird cage and not trying to pick the lock or something?" Jaune.

"I tried to find lawyers to take my case, but the only ones I knew were the family lawyers."

"Ah..." Jaune voiced.

"They were right in that it was a conflict of interest." Weiss voiced.

"So?," Jaune asked, "then what did you do?"

"Hire Aurora." Weiss said, and made a thrusting movement with an invisible rapier, "And had her offshore my savings so I could be supported once I escape."

* * *

Weiss and Jaune sat on a table on a balcony, overlooking the night as a sommelier poured their wine.

* * *

Aurora opened the door to the house and walked inside, stepping aside so that Jaune could walk in arm-in-arm with Weiss. A burst of rose petals appeared in front of them.

"How was your wine tasting?" Ruby eagerly asked, trying her best not to be judgemental, or jealous, or at least less socially awkward than she usually was.

Jaune stepped forward to kiss her on her lips. Ruby turned pale(r) and nearly fainted.

"I suppose we can blame that on the wine." Weiss said with a smile, and then stepped forward to do the same. This time Ruby's knees did buckle, and luckily Jaune was ready to catch her. He picked her up like a princess and walked her over to the couch. He gently put her down, and stood up, staring at her. He dropped his hand and cupped her face before gently stroking her hair.

"Shit," Yang said, "you don't take any prisoners."

"You have your," Jaune said, and thought, "bodacious play. Blake had her quiet, Weiss her company. I had to give Ruby something."

"And ice queen?" Yang asked.

"My plan is to blame it on the wine." Weiss said with a bright smile.

#rwby #firen lhain #faunus au #pollinated knight #jaune arc #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xiao long

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