Tumgik
#you had so many dragon names for your snake dragon and you used fell AGAIN?!
dentos-wife · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media
How bout that new fire emblem trailer guys?
2K notes · View notes
meganwasbored · 1 year
Text
The Dragon Prince Thoughts Season 2 Episodes 8 and 9
Random thought that has nothing to do with anything: Was Viren ever married because I made fun of him last episode reaction because he’s not married but then I remembered that he has two kids but I’ve never heard any mention of their mother do we just assume that she died?
Episode 8
-“how may I serve you” he says in a tone that screams ‘I’m more powerful than you and you know it’
-so the trapping-people-inside-coins spell makes you look like a zombie, and the turning chains-into-snakes spell apparently makes you look like a ghost that hasn’t slept in a month
-“what are you doing”
“I’m pinching you, Soren”
“Well that’s just rude”
When you’re probably totally paralyzed but talking back to your sister is much more important
-“that was really pretty! But I still can’t move”
-The guy in Callum’s nightmare (vision?) doesn’t look like anyone we’ve seen before, are we really about to add a third(?) villain
-also I know nothing about anything what symbol was the one that was lighting up?
-“I’m not lying, I never lie” he says in the most untrustworthy tone I’ve ever heard
-finally he’s bandaging his hand, there should be blood literally all over his arm right now
-I know Aaravos’ name but I am very tempted just to keep calling him sparkly hands
-dream dude has Callum’s gloves, I think I know what’s about to go down
-if he’s about to tell Ezran about his dad I swear let him stay ignorant as long as he can please I can’t do this rn
-booooooo
-ik Soren is gonna walk again that’s not what I’m worried about, what I’m worried about is how much it will hurt to watch when he finds out
-well now look what you’ve done, this poor little boy
-the first thing he was worried about was Callum my heart
-he’s handling it SO WELL
-Hahahah Callum’s face when he sees dream Callum
Tumblr media Tumblr media
-seriously what symbol is that supposed to be am I supposed to just know
-SOR-SOR DOES SHE ACTUALLY CALL HIM THAT THATS SO CUTE
-VIREN IM GONNA KILL YOU YOUR SON IS LITERALLY GLAD THAT HES PARALYZED BECAUSE NOW HE DOESNT HAVE TO DO THE TERRIBLE THING YOU MANIPULATED HIM INTO AGREEING TO ARE YOU HAPPY RIGHT NOW??? ARE YOU???
-we’re really bringing Harrow into this y’all are torturing him beyond the grave
-but also that fact that there are so many people Callum probably talked to much more than Harrow but he was the one to snap him out of it says a lot
-“Destiny is a book you write yourself” adding this to my possible senior quotes list
-the cube just fell into hell??? And dream Callum turned to dust??? Does this happen to everyone the first time they use dark magic???
-not Corvus blaming Rayla for letting Ezran go when she was literally the one to try to convince him to let her go with him while Corvus just stepped out of his way
-Soren being so chill about this is both incredibly heartbreaking but also kinda funny ngl
-he literally just had to lie there and watch as his sister trashed his hospital room and got dragged out
-this dream started super deep but now Callum is… a sail???
-this whole episode had been a fever dream honestly the only way this could get worse is if someone dies
-“you’re making this easy for me, young king!” Dude… his dad just died?? And you’re more focused on beating him at hide and seek?? Show some respect??
-Aaravos’ expression looks super shady no matter what he’s doing or saying if they’re trying to hide that he’s a villain they’re doing a very bad job
-imagine thinking you just got the king of Katolis killed very shortly after the last king got killed and when you tell his friend (who just happens to be an elf, in fact, she’s one of the elves who was on the mission that killed the first king) she laughs in your face and tells you that your king (who is like 9 years old) can talk to animals and is now riding away on a banther, oh and also his brother the prince has been lying on the ground with two black eyes and yelling out random delirious things since you found them and you still have no idea what happened to him, like what would you even do
-me too man, me too
Tumblr media
-“you big, dumb human” she says while looking at him with extreme concern in her eyes
-this dream is the most chaotic masterpiece I have ever seen
-YOURE JUST GONNA LEAVE ME LIKE THAT???
-I have school tomorrow and it’s 12:45 am, I have school tomorrow and it’s 12:45 am, I have school tomorrow and it’s 12:45 am, I have school tomorrow and it’s 12:45 am, I have school tomorrow and it’s 12:45 am
-screw it I’m watching the next one
Episode 9
-I just realized that we haven’t seen Claudia and Ezran interact one on one until now this is adorable
-the fact that they’re telling jokes while both of them are in horrible mental states
-so mom left and it was probably definitely because of Viren, but she’s the one that left her children with him so they’re both awful
-also why do I always just randomly remember stuff that seems totally unrelated but then it always gets brought up an episode later
-that phrase being passed down to the next person every time they have to talk about hard stuff
-is this thing with his mom made up because he was like 5-6 when she died but here he’s his current age???
-Now THAT symbol I know
-“I understand the sky arcanum” that’s it? That’s all you had to hear? …I don’t get it but cool ig
-also how does he know it’s the sky arcanum? Like it is because the primal stone was a storm? Like we know it’s the sky arcanum because the sky symbol lit up but I didn’t see a single thing in that dream that pointed to sky
-girl what the heck are you about to do to those deer that you need to send Ezran away for it
-ooooooh ok I totally get it now it took me a second
-this is awesome but doesn’t he only know like two spells
-oh shoot there’s always at least one person who needs catching up, oh boy
-very thankful that they didn’t show what she did to the poor deer nobody needs to see that
-oh no Claudia’s punishment for whatever she did was turning her hair into e-girl hair during the bleached front pieces trend
-STOP THIS IS TOO MUCH FOR A LITTLE BOY JUST LET HIM GO ON HIS FUN QUEST WITH HIS FRIEND AND HIS BROTHER AND HIS DRAGON
-DO THEY HAVE TO MAKE ZYM SOUND LIKE A WHIMPERING PUPPY THIS IS AWFUL
-are they still looking for Viren because they’re not doing a very good job he’s literally on top of a tower in plain sight
-oh great he’s a zombie again
-ok they zoomed in on the rocks sinking and I’m taking that as a bad sign
-the butterfly thing Viren has is giving hawkmoth
-I’m sorry but whatever Aaravos was doing in the mirror just looked like a bunch of Tik Tok dances
-the fact that Aaravos is inside Viren’s head, both figuratively and literally
-and Opeli of course wins because she’s the best
-why weren’t they running the whole time?
-ok so not only can Ezran suddenly see through Zym’s eyes but also Corvus just let him go on his shoulders and flap around without a second thought
-DRAGON DRAGON DRAGON
15 notes · View notes
mellaithwen · 2 years
Text
The Welsh lake no bird will ever fly over and 9 other dark myths from the waters of Wales
From WalesOnline - which as a website is guaranteed to almost always crash your computer from the sheer number of clickbait popups so I'm reposting the below to keep, and refer back to, without making my laptop sound like its full of bees... and to share with you of course, since it's spooky-season
by Nathan Bevan, senior reporter. 15 October 2021.
Tumblr media
📷The remains of ancient forests on the Welsh coastline, linked to Cantre'r Gwaelod, the mythical ancient kingdom submerged under the waters of Cardigan Bay (Image: Keith Morris)
Wales is as famed for its breathtaking scenery as for its legends.
And some of those fantastical myths and fables have been hewn from the very landscape itself. Some tales are as tall as our most ancient oaks and as windswept as those undulating hills and vales.
But those born from its lakes, pools and rivers, like the ones which we're about to tell, are very deep and dark indeed....
Llyn Tegid
Tumblr media
📷 Llyn Tegid is home to Wales' answer to Nessie (Image: Getty Images/iStockphoto)
According to legend, Tegid Foel had a fine palace now underneath the lake and lived a life of opulence and excess. He also had a reputation for cruelty and greed. During a lavish feast he had employed a harpist to entertain his guests. As he played, he thought he heard a quiet voice behind him whispering in his ear “vengeance will come”. After playing, he left the palace and fell asleep nearby. When he woke, he looked out on an entirely new landscape, now full of water, with the palace nowhere to be seen.
The Afanc Lake monster
People in Betws-y-coed tell the tale of a monster in nearby Llyn-yr-Afanc, which is sometimes referred to as the Welsh Loch Ness Monster.
The Afanc is said to have taken the form of a crocodile, giant beaver and a demon and was said to attack then eat anyone who entered its waters.
One tale said that the wild thrashings of the Afanc caused flooding which drowned all the people of Britain save for two, named Dwyfan and Dwyfach.
Other sites also lay claim to be home to the Afanc, among them Llyn Llion and Llyn Barfog.
Pistyll Rhaeadr Falls
Another legend that involves good triumphing over evil is that of the Dragon of Llanrhaeadr at Rhaeadr Falls in Powys.
It concerns a winged snake called a Gwybr that lived in the lake above the falls which would fly down to terrorise the villages below.
However, the canny villagers mocked-up their own dragon to trick the Gwybr and, upon attacking it, the creature impaled itself on spikes hidden therein. thus allowing the villagers to live in peace.
The Lady of the Lake
Tumblr media
📷 Llyn y Fan Fach (Image: Creative commons/ Flickr/ Angel Ganev)
The story goes that it was at Llyn y Fan Fach, a remote lake in the Black Mountains, where a young farmer named Gwyn won and then tragically lost the love of his life.
He fell in love with a beautiful woman who emerged from the water and agreed to marry him but warned him she would leave him forever if he hit her three times.
They lived happily for many years and had three sons, but after Gwyn struck her once for laughing during a funeral and again for crying at a wedding, an accidental third meant she disappeared into the lake never to been seen by him again.
She would sometimes re-appear to her sons and teach them the powers of healing with herbs and plants.
They became known as the Physicians of Myddfai and some of their ancient remedies have survived and are in the Red Book of Hergest, one of Wales' most important medieval manuscripts.
Cadair Idris
One of Wales' most iconic peaks, standing in southern Snowdonia, its name directly translates as Idris' Chair in reference to the mythical giant who once used the mountain as his throne. There are numerous stories and legends associated with the mountain and Idris.
A few of the nearby lakes - such as Tal-y-llyn - are reputed to be bottomless, and those who venture up the mountain at night should take heed before sleeping on its slopes. It is said that those who sleep on the mountain will awaken either as a madman, a poet or, indeed, never wake again.
Cantre'r Gwaelod
The kingdom of Maes Gwyddno, more commonly known as Cantre’r Gwaelod, is said to lie under the Irish Sea in Cardigan Bay. It was ruled by Gwyddno Garanhir (Longshanks), born circa 520AD, and the land was said to be extremely fertile but depended on a dyke to protect it from the sea.
The dyke had sluice gates which were opened at low tide to drain the water from the land, and closed as the tide returned. But, around 600AD, a storm blew up from the south west and the appointed watchman was too drunk to notice the and to shut the gates. The water gates were left open, and the sea rushed in to flood the land of the Cantref, drowning more than 16 villages.
The haunted shores of Rhossili Bay
It might be one of Britain’s best beaches, but beautiful Rhossili on the tip of Gower is also a hotspot for paranormal activity.
There have reportedly been sightings of a mysterious couple in Edwardian dress at the National Trust-owned Rhossili Rectory, while, supposedly, the spirit of Reverend John Lucas can be seen galloping across the sand on his ghostly horse.
The Reverend shares the beach with Squire Mansell who, on stormy nights, is said to search the sands for buried gold in a carriage drawn by four ghostly horses.
The great flood of Gorslas and Llyn Llech Owain
There was once said to be a magic well on the mountain Mynydd Mawr, which lies just north of Gorslas. The entrance to this well was protected with a huge flagstone, which was watched over by a local farmer.
One day, a thirsty young man named Owain came by the well and removed the stone so he and his horse could drink the water within. The pair then fell asleep shortly after without covering the well back up. Masses of flowing water then flooded the land, which was only stopped after Owain galloped around it on horseback, using his magic to contain it. The resultant lake on Mynydd Mawr was hence named Llyn Llech Owain (the lake of Owain’s stone slab).
Cwm Idwal
Tumblr media
📷Cwm Idwal, Snowdonia (Image: Les Haines/Flickr)
The lake in this valley is named after a young man who died a tragic and unnecessary death. Legend has it that Idwal was the son of the 12th century prince Owain Gwynedd.
Beautiful and clever, Idwal did not have the makings of a warrior and was sent away to stay in safety with his uncle, Nefydd, while his father was at war. Nefydd was a jealous man whose own son Rhun, in contrast to Idwal, was witless and dull. Torn apart by bitterness, Nefydd took the boys for a walk by the lake and pushed Idwal in, drowning him.
Owain was devastated and named the lake after his son. Legend has it that the birds that inhabited the lake flew away in sorrow, never to soar above it again.
Tyno Helig, the Welsh Atlantis
One of the legends associated with the Great Orme, the massive headland to the west of Llandudno Bay, is that of Llys Helig (Helig's Palace) and the lost land of Tyno Helig.
The legends surrounds the daughter of Helig ap Glannawg, the prince of Tyno Helig, who is said to have lived in the sixth century. His daughter Gwendud had a cruel heart and when she was courted by Tahal, the son of a Snowdonian baron, refused to marry him unless he acquired the golden collar worn by noblemen of the time.
Tahal murdered a Scottish chieftain, stealing his collar, and the two were wed. But on the wedding day the ghost of the murdered Scots appeared, cursing the family. Some generations later, during a night of revelry in the royal palace, sea water began pouring into the cellar before completely submerged the palace. Many believed this was the revenge the Scottish chieftain had promised.
122 notes · View notes
maraudersftw · 3 years
Note
Blueberry + Black + Bliss
Many thanks for this lovely prompt, anon! I'm sorry I suck at stopping under 1000 words.
Sweet Blue
Lily barreled down the stairs, massive package in hand, grin rampant over lips as excitement buzzed like a second skin around her.
The Gryffindor Common Room, bereft of occupants save for a few stragglers who’d decided to forgo some precious Sunday lie-in, flew by her periphery without garnering so much as an acknowledging scan as she skipped towards the Boys’ staircase. A foot had barely fallen onto the first step when she was halted unceremoniously by an amused call of her name.
“Oi, Evans!” his voice rang out, and she whipped her head around to spot a shock of black hair, smiling hazel eyes, lazy smirk. The sight of him, burrowed inside an armchair, instantly sent the thrum beneath her ribcage stuttering. “Off to accost some poor bloke this early in the morning? At least wait for the sun to rise fully, would you? Some of us need more time to collect our wit.”
She narrowed her eyes, thoughts clattering as she debated her next course of action. Futile as the pretence that she’d been on a path to accost someone who was not the boy in front of her was, it only took Lily another half-second to make the decision, step away from the staircase, and towards him. James’s gaze brightened infinitesimally, evidently pleased by the deviation.
“Don’t club in everyone else with yourself, Potter,” she remarked happily, rounding the couch to plop down on its unbelievable cushiness. “Not everyone’s as slow as you.”
He reached out one of those unfairly long arms to bridge the space between them and flick her nose. Lily held back the widening grin. “And there’s that cheek. Even at six in the morning.”
Rather than blush tellingly at the fondness he directed at her, she nodded at the pile of Transfiguration notes and books around him. “What’s this? James Potter studying on a Sunday? Am I dreaming?”
“Afraid of a little competition?” he threw back, fire glinting off glasses. “Don’t worry, Evans, you’ll still beat me in Charms and Potions.”
For a second, the golden glaze of the sun hitting his hair from the window behind stole the words from her tongue, the breath from her lungs. Prompted by James’s prolonged stare, a warmth blossomed on her cheeks, bringing back some sense. “I’d beat you in DADA too.”
“Ha! You can dream.”
“I don’t make it a habit to dream about you, Potter.”
“That makes one of us,” he said, completely unabashed.
Lily fairly choked on that honesty, muscles tightening near her clavicle with strange breathlessness. “You dream about yourself? Takes the narcissism to new heights.”
James cocked a brow, but let her deliberate misunderstanding of the phrase slide. “Technically, everyone dreams about themselves.”
“Ugh, it’s too early for this,” she groaned, sliding her legs into a fold on the couch, fluffy warm pyjamas keeping the December chill at bay. “I was going to your dormitory for a purpose, you know?”
James instantly leaned forward, pleased and making no effort to hide it. “You were coming to see me?”
“To see all of you,” she mumbled like a coward. Perhaps there was also some lie interlaced in there, because he’d certainly been the reason she’d felt an extra jauntiness during her excursion. Not willing to impart that particular knowledge, Lily held out the package to him. “Open it.”
Curiosity creased his brows, smile never waning. “What’s this?”
“Open it, you impatient tosser.”
James grumbled something about ‘mean harpies posing as Head Girls’ and ‘no appreciation for those of curious minds’ while carefully unwrapping the package, all of which Lily soundly ignored in favour of vibrating with anticipation. When the last of the brown wrapping paper fell away, she squealed at the pink box that was revealed, full with a glossy sheen and pretty prints and designs; exactly the way she remembered it.
James looked at her, back at the box, then at her again. Eventually, amusement had his lips pinching together. “If I don’t find at least two dragon eggs inside this, I’ll be disappointed.”
“It’s something even better, I promise!” She wiggled her palms, urging him to open the box.
When he finally popped open the lid, Lily found herself under the very real threat of toppling to the floor, so far had she leaned forward. Eager green eyes spotted the dozen or so confectionaries that sat cheerily inside, miraculously undisturbed during their journey across England. “They’re blueberry muffins!” she informed giddily. “I requested mum to send across some from this bakery in my hometown.”
James’s smile softened as he looked inside the box, so much so that when he turned his eyes to her again, the gold in them had melted into a warm honey. “You do get blueberry muffins here too, you know,” he said kindly, voice fond.
“I know, but those are just imposters. These are the real deal. Take a bite, go on. I can bet you’ll be kissing my feet in thanks.”
“Do I have to kiss your feet? Can't it be something else?”
Her heart bloated dangerously. “James.”
“Only kidding,” he chuckled, reaching inside dutifully and picking out a muffin. At her incessantly exaggerated prompting, he made a show of rolling his eyes before finally biting into the spongey cake. It was bizarre, but Lily could swear she felt flavours blue and sweet burst on her own tongue when James moaned aloud, eyes scrunched in bliss as he chewed.
“It’s good, isn’t it?”
“What the fuck,” he whispered in disbelief after swallowing, staring down at the remaining muffin as if it had personally offended him by not being available before. “What the actual fuck?”
“I told you!” she crowed, smirking openly without a hint of modesty. “Isn’t it just the best thing you’ve ever tasted?”
“Merlin, I might cry.” He blinked, grinning at her. “Give me those feet, Evans.”
Lily’s smirk dimmed, veins strangely suffused with molten courage instead of blood as she reached forward and plucked the box from James’s lap, setting it aside on the table. The distressed cry he let out died abruptly when she looked at him again, face serious.
“Will my lips do?”
James froze, eyes wide, muffin forgotten in hand. “Lily,” he warned, voice low. “Don’t. Not if you’re still thinking—not if you’re not sure.”
Her fingers found his free hand, ran over the warm palm breezily. “I’m sure,” she confessed, lashes fluttering as she stared at his Quidditch-given calluses. “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long, but—I’m sure now.”
“Look at me.”
She did.
James’s eyes were aflame, even as his breath remained tempered. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want—” She bit her lip. “I want you to kiss me. I want to eat that muffin, and then I want you to take me to Hogsmeade next weekend.”
A beat passed. And then she found his hand snaking around her wrist, tugging her forward until she sloppily stumbled over to his armchair and right into his recently vacated lap. Distantly, she registered that they had an audience—however meagre—but she’d truly never cared less.
“Good plan,” James whispered, tossing the rest of the muffin into the box. Lily didn’t even feel inclined to chastise him for messing up the presentation, because he was gripping her waist the next second, pulling her closer until his nose brushed hers tenderly. “Always the perfect answer, Miss Evans.”
“Shut up,” Lily laughed, cradling his head, pulling him forward.
Their lips met, mouths opened, and blue and sweet burst on her tongue.
280 notes · View notes
thewheezingwyvern · 3 years
Note
Hi so ⚡ here, I would like to request villan kirishima, bc I too am trying to ignore the current american politics.
I feel like he's the type to heavily praise while stuffing his darling with his (quirk) hardened dick. I'm not sure where I'm going with this, I just think villan kirishima is neat 🥴
Oooh I’ve never tried to tackle Villain!Kirishima before! I will definitely take this distraction  ⚡ anon! Since you used the term “darling” I went Yandere for this. And since I decided to give him a sleeve tattoo, I also went Yakuza! I hope this is ok! 
@katsukikitten, you asked me to tag you so here you go!
Kinks: Dubcon, Yandere, Kidnapping, implied Stockholm Syndrom, Cream Pie, Praise, Quirk play
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
“That’s a good girl.” came a pleasured hiss from his lips, “That’s right take it.”
You were stuffed fuller than you ever thought you could be, walls stretched to the point of pain that mixed with the spearing pleasure that thrummed through you. The texture of his cock, hardened even further by his Quirk, was unusual that constantly pushed you the precipice of agony and ecstasy. It was a precarious balance along the edge of a knife and Kirishima took his time with slow and steady thrusts to keep you right where he wanted you.
He always kept you right where he wanted you. The chain that was attached to your right ankle rattled in reminder. You were not just his darling but his prisoner. A shuddering gasp was pulled past your lips when a particularly firm stroke stimulated that sweet spot deep in your walls. The motion was toe-curling, your fingers clenching into little fists as his massive hand imprisoned both wrists in his grip. Kirishima’s eyes were glazed over with lust, as vivid in their expression as the curling sleeve tattoo on his right arm, a dragon snaking it’s way up his limb.
You would manage to get yourself captured by someone in the Yakuza.
The sheets tangled around your legs as you arched beneath him, hips involuntarily seeking out more pleasure from him. Needy little mewls poured past your lips, sweeter than honey and they made Kirishima so hot for you. He jerked his hips roughly, adding more feeling to that heady cocktail of pain and pleasure he was drowning you in. You opened your eyes wide and whined.
“Fuck that’s right. You’re so perfect, baby.” he praised in a hoarse whisper, peppering your neck with kisses, “Look at you just taking my cock so well. You’re so gorgeous.”
You shouldn’t be so into this. Kirishima had kidnapped you. But he had also taken you off the street to protect you from other criminals who had come to target you. How many times had he protected you? But you were a prisoner! That chain rattled again in grim reminder of what you were and who you belonged to. 
Blunted teeth nipped at your delicate skin, murmuring praises to you as you arched and clenched beneath him. It was unbearably arousing to hear him whisper praises against your exposed flesh, cock spearing deep inside of you. A wet tongue laved carefully at each mark he left behind, soothing each bite with careful attention.
“A girl as gorgeous as you,” he bit down on your collarbone, a sharp pain blooming along your nerves, “deserves a real man like me. Pinning you down just like this.” with a grunt he jerked his hips to thrust into you again, “filling you with a cock like mine.”
“I-ah!” you melted into whimpers when his mouth closed around a pert nipple to suck, “Kirishima, fuck please let me cum!”
He gave a low purr in response, “Tell me who you belong to, baby.”
“You, ah! Only you!”
“God that’s sexy.” Kirishima cursed, “And who does this pussy belong to?”
A mess of red hair fell into his face as he stared you down, ploughing deep into your warm, wet entrance for his pleasure. The Yakuza watched as conflict flickered across your face before vanishing when he rubbed his thumb against your greedy little clit.
“Ah! You! Kiri, god p-lpease just fuck me!”
“You’re so hot begging like that.” He set a brutal pace, thrusting into your weeping pussy, “I’ll fuck you like you deserve, princess. Like the good little Yakuza toy you are.”
He was rough, Quirk hardened dick, dragging along your walls and granting you glorious stimulation. The need within you was mounting, urging you to wrap your thighs around his waist, the chain from your ankle jangling quietly with the motion. A feral snarl spilled past Kirishima’s lips and he set an even more rigorous pace inside of you, feeling his own climax draw unbearably close. The sounds of you moaning, whimpering and keening only served to drive him further, every shudder of your voice a sonnet on it’s own for his ears.
“Cum for me, precious.” Kirishima littered rough bites and kisses along your neck, “Scream for me.”
Calloused, thick fingers pinched your sensitive clit and that was the final push over the edge. White flooded your vision as you came around his cock, thick arousal leaking down onto the silky sheets. The villain above you only fucked you through your orgasm, stimulating your fluttering walls until tears were streaming from the corners of your eyes. The sight had him releasing his hot seed into you, flooding your pussy until it was seeping out to the sheets as well.
“That’s my perfect baby.” he kissed your hairline before stretching out at your side, cradling you to his massive chest, “Scream my name next time, I want everyone to know that you’re mine.”
428 notes · View notes
spice-chan · 4 years
Text
I Wish
Tumblr media
Tags : @sacro---sainte @pixxiesdust @ererokii @etegomanere​
Word count : 7 k 
pairings : Kirishima x reader  previous Bakugou x reader  
You were kicked out of Bakugo’s majestic and overrated castle. That’s fine, you find your footing somewhere better, and build a future anew with a handsome, shark toothed dragon.
warnings : angst, implied violence, mentions of slavery ( very brief), eventual happy ending. 
…...…….. 
Bakugou has had this thought for a while. A thought that plagued him whenever he laid in bed with you, whenever he strolled in his lavish gardens with you in the dim hours of the night.
This shouldn’t last.
Even as he reluctantly relents to your requests to meet up, spend time together, this thought plagues him. He was a king, and you were not royal, not even of rich descent. You were just...you. He was an ambitious king with plans for generations to come, enhanced senses and powers, a genius among geniuses. You were just a scholar who happened to intrigue him. Who got too close for comfort.
Bakugou, who’s mind was usually logical and unclouded, was seeing the world through rose coloured lenses.
A rabbit, with nothing on her name, and him.
But this was no fairytale, the struggle will just be ripping the bandaid off. Bakugou knows it will sting, but it will fade away with time, just like those ridiculous feelings.
“What is this about ?” You asked vehemently, trying to reason yourself out of thinking that this is true, willing yourself to believe in him.
“It’s exactly what you think.” Bakugou replied carelessly. Apathetically.
It’ll be just like ripping a bandaid off.
So why did it feel like a blue flames’ burn ?
Why did it sting like a snake’s bite ?
Time will tell, but until then, fake it till you make it. Maybe the apathy his face shows will eventually become all that he feels for you.
You just stared at him in disbelief, bottom lip quivering, eyebrows furrowing in a pained glare, sight getting blurrier.
You wanted him to tell you it’s a joke, that you’re the one that he wants to spend the rest of his life with, not a pompous, rich princess from a fairytale like kingdom. You wished he’d take you into his arms and tease you that you ‘liked him that much huh ?’
He rolled his eyes.
You wished he’d express his melancholy at parting ways with you. You wished he’d give you half hearted reasons why he’s marrying someone else. You clung to the hope that he’d lie to you, but he’d done enough lying. He broke every single promise he made to you. Still, you clung to the hope like a tiny child clings to the side of the pool, afraid of the traitorous waters.
“While you’re at it, pack your shitty things and leave, I don’t want to see you here anymore.” He ordered, moving to grab his writing quill and paper.
Writing away as if you didn’t exist.
You wished, but wishes don’t always come true. Your future with him was going to be one of those wishes, made to wither away with time.
You didn’t offer him any words of heart break, he wished you’d at least shout at him, maybe that way he’d hear your voice one last time.
No, the only thing he heard was your footsteps padding away, not even stomping, just softly enough that if his pen fell if would deafen him to the sound of you walking away.
The clock ticked, his door opened. The bandaid ripped.
And you left. 
You walked aimlessly on an unfamiliar path. Your eyes looked cold, dead, their bright glow lost along with the faint yellow light in the sky. The grass crunched beneath your feet, and the trees were growing ominously large, their spine looming over you.
But you continued walking, aimlessly, and without direction. But that was the last thing that plagued your mind.
He broke up with you, he kicked you out, without hesitation. You didn’t shed a tear, but you knew the dam was going to burst.
It was your fault for having naive expectations, he was a king after all, and who were you ? A nobody compared to him.
You were probably just a distraction, seeing as he didn’t seem to have a hair out of place when he told you to leave.
You just thought he was above arranged marriages, that he was capable of keeping his kingdom solid without the aid of another. But you supposed the deal wasn’t half bad.
While you were lost in your head, you didn’t notice the camouflaged figures that began to appear around you, slowly forming a caging circle.
A hand clamped around your mouth, silencing your shrieks, while your eyes widened in fright.
You attempted to pry his filthy hands off you, your muffled shouting and crying ringing out with an echo throughout the deadly forest. That is, until the frog like man around you started to laugh, mocking how easy it was to “capture a bunny that will bring them thousands”. You dreaded the implication of their words.
You writhed in futile effort to get away, but your efforts were rewarded when you heard a growl a few feet away. A growl that certainly doesn’t belong to anyone here.
Your eyes glistened in uncertain hope, turning your eyes to look at the approaching stranger.
Now that he was closer, you could clearly see that he was a dragon, his shark like teeth bared threateningly at the man around you, his tall and buff figure dwarfing the strangers around you.
“What are you trying to do to her ?” He questioned, his red eyes holding a bloody promise. Some wouldn’t bother for a mere stranger, but Kirishima wasn’t some. When he heard cackles and distorted crying, he hoped his keen ears were deceiving him, but his eyes testified.
“Nothing, move along.” Spoke the ‘leader’, who kept his hands around your mouth, his bravado was crumpling though, his hands were growing lax, but he still tried to keep the situation in his favor. Futile effort.
You shook your head desperately, your eyes bleeding his, watching them turn grim.
He closed his eyes and sighed.
“Close your eyes, you might not wanna see this!” He suggested way too cheerfully, giving you another look at his dragon teeth.
Nevertheless, you heeded his advice, closing your eyes tightly, the darkness slightly comforting, however, the loss of sight amplified your other senses, and you were once again painfully aware of the grimy hand pressed against your mouth.
With your eyes shut, you missed Kirishima’s throat turning red as he conjured fire, the blistering rage leaving his throat and burning  the man holding you. You quickly moved away when the hand left your mouth, but kept your eyes closed when you heard a painful screech. The fire of a dragon being the purest and most potent of its kind quickly transformed the man to ash.
You opened your eyes to see the remains of the man flying around the forest, disappearing into nothing along with his presence. By that point, the circle that previously surrounded you was obsolete, the cowards having fled to save their life.
You felt sick, having never witnessed something like this before, but you eased the guilt by reminding yourself that this man was going to sell you, make you a slave for some perverted and cruel old owner. Maybe even put you in a brothel with no escape. You should have been more careful, but now the lesson was seared in your head.
You could remember the barbaric laughs that rung all around you, finding humor in stealing your life, your future. They thought your struggle for freedom was comical.
They deserve to die, you bet they caused many others to wish they could. The life of slavery was a hard, inescapable one. The life of sex slaves even more so.
They deserve to die.
They do.
But that doesn’t stop your stomach from churning painfully, for your mind to keep replying the events in a loop, making you feel lower then dirt, even if you shouldn’t.
You felt nauseous.
You saw the dragon approach carefully, and despite your sickened state, you willed yourself to look at him.
“Thank you for helping me.” You said, giving him the best grateful tone you could muster.
It felt like an invisible weight was lifted from your shoulders when you saw him smile, but the sharpness of his teeth still served as a reminder of what he’s capable off.
He approached you slowly, tentatively, as if scared you might suddenly flee. Being a former knight, he was well trained into how to use his fire powers and such, so he made sure not to hurt you, but he was sure that something like that might be traumatizing for you, but it was the fastest way to ensure your safety.
When he stopped in front of you, you could clearly see his intimidating height, he towered over you, but it was hard to find him scary with that smile he sported.
“Hey, I’m sorry about that, are you ok ?” He questioned in a low voice, attempting not to sound intimidating. He visibly exhaled when he saw you nod.
“What are you doing here at night all alone ? Are you trying to reach the town ? I can escort you there.” He tried to berate you for your carelessness, but he saw how shaken you looked, so toned he down the scolding. He saw how the soft rabbit ears you had were droopy, the fluffy appendages signifying your mood.
“I don’t know where I’m going.” You confessed.
A minute passed, carrying the ongoing silence with it as you nervously fidgeted.
“Huh ?” Came the dragon’s dumbfounded response.
You lifted your head, your eyes looking up at him blankly.
“You heard me.” Came your brisk reply.
Kirishima furrowed his brows, trying to formulate a reply that wouldn’t offend you or worsen your state, but the frown on his lips showed how much progress he was making in that regard.
A chilly breeze swept past the area, making you feel frozen, even your bones felt iced. The forest was suddenly wider then ever, and you were suddenly just alone as you had been when you were 7. The moon shone, but it didn’t provide any light.
Your throat felt clogged, you tried to snap your self out of it, to say you were ‘fine’, and that ‘yes, I am going to town’. But the words wouldn’t come out, the lies refused to leave your lips.
Because no, you weren’t alright, the man you loved, the man you helped win wars, the one you woke up every morning wondering what the day held for the two of you, the one you sometimes spent leisurely nights with, planning your future, and making promises to love faithfully despite his flaws; is marrying someone else.
He said he doesn’t care that you aren’t royal, told you to stop pestering yourself with  those troublesome thoughts, because he belongs to you and only you. But he lied, he strung you along, then told you to leave. Callously showed you the truth in a letter he wrote accepting to marry a princess from a prosperous land.
It felt like the weight of the world was sitting on your heart, crushing the already bruised organ.
A breeze came by again, but your face felt especially cold. You lifted a hand up, softly touching your face and feeling wetness coating it.
Oh... you were crying.
A hand clasped your shoulder, squeezing assuringly. He more or less got the picture.
“Let it out, it’s ok.” He said. You felt overwhelmed by the kindness of a complete stranger, and -
the dam broke.
Your shoulders shook violently, tears streamed down your face in endless waves, and just when a wave crashed against the shore, another, more powerful one replaced it.
The man enveloped you in a hug, his warmth cocooning you tightly, making the looming trees seem shorter and meeker, and the biting wind a little less cold. You stained his clothes, but whenever you tried to force yourself to talk amidst your tears, to apologize to him, to thank him, he would shush you and tell you to talk later.
Eventually, the onslaught of tears died down to harmless hiccups. Even tears were turbulent, and emotions were sometimes out of control, but the warmth of a complete stranger anchored you.
And when the hiccups stopped, you had a feeling that the everything will be alright.
.....
“- and he told me to leave and never show him my face again.” You finished with red rimmed eyes. The man, who you learned was called Kirishima, nodded in understanding, but his eyes help a solemn anger towards that pompous jackass. Your heart hardened at the memory of your ex lover, remembering his emotionless face as told you to read it. Knives stabbed into your heart as you remembered the words of his letter, how willing he was to set himself a wedding date even though you were the one that always stood by him and offered him endless support and love.
You ground your teeth in frustration, anger taking root where the sadness festered. But the ambers of the fire illuminating the rubies in front of you smoothened it out.
“He reeks of douchebag, totally unmanly. You’re better off without him.” Kirishima said, nodding to himself in agreement.
It was beyond his imagination how someone could not only do that, but take your home away from you for his own convenience.
“Do you have a place to stay ?”
You sighed, shaking your head. You had no one. He knew you had no one. Nowhere.
“That’s fine ! You can stay in my cave with me, I’d love some company !” He exclaimed cheerfully, trying to put you at ease. Truthfully, he really didn’t mind the company. After he quit being a knight to indulge in his natural instincts, he found an uninhabited cave, as mature dragons often do, and begun hoarding in it. The cave is meant to eventually be their own family home until the hatchlings reached a mature age and moved to their own caves.
Kirishima was trying to memorize how to get to his cave by foot, and he was glad he chose today, otherwise he didn’t want to think about what could have happened to you. You seemed like a really nice person, and regardless, nobody deserves to be taken advantage of.
He didn’t know where this sense of protectiveness came from, it could be his knight instincts making a reappearance, but he didn’t want you to get hurt at all.
He could help you get back on your feet, after all, there’s nothing that Kirishima loves more then seeing people smile in true happiness, and he has yet to see yours. He somehow felt sure it will be enchanting. But you were frowning now and looking all mopey and sad so he can’t tell.
“Would you like me to shish kebab something for you ? Food always helps me ! I can shish kebab a deer or a chicken, or a rab- no thats cannibalism for you right ? Uhh I can roast some carrots !” He rambled, watching as your stare got more and more weirded out. He started to feel self deprecating knowing he probably made you feel worse.
You laughed at his attempt to cheer you up, your mood lightening up by his intentions alone. You saw him go quiet and thought you’d better talk before he thought he weirded you out.
“You know what, I think I did bring some comfort carrots with me.” You said, reaching for your bag and pulling out some peeled carrots in a container. You gave the container to him, trying to muster a smile, although it probably looked awkward.
He seemed to brighten up, his dragon teeth making a reappearance as he grinned at you while enthusiastically taking the carrots from  you.
“You can shish kebab the carrots, or whatever it is.” You said awkwardly, having never paid attention to those foods before.
He pulled out some stickes from his own bag, sticking it in the middle of the carrot so he can roast them comfortably.
Rabbit food, but he was too tired and cautious to haunt.
The carrots were clumsily made, but they tasted sweet after the roast, Kirishima appreciated the taste, although he still wanted meat. You, on the other hand, had your comfort food, but it felt like sandpaper as your mind kept replying the events of the day. Just yesterday, you felt like you had the world in your palm.
Everything passed by in a blur, you finished eating and then started walking, because sleeping here in dangerous.
You could see a faint trickle of light as the previously black sky begun turning into navy blue, and only then did you arrive to his cave. The cave that looked so high to seemed to be touching the clouds.
“If you tell me we are climbing that I’m going back to the forest.”
“Whaaat ?! No, no, I’ll fly us up there no problem !” He declared making your eyes widen in fright.
“No what the heck ?!  You’ll destroy the trees !” You exclaimed in shock, unable to believe he’d be so willing to shift here and damage the beautiful trees.
His eyes widened, he shook his head rapidly while he rushed to explain “No ! I can semi transform, don’t worry.”
Your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape, suddenly seeing Kirishima in a new light. It takes an extreme amount of practice and mastery for a dragon shifter to do that. God, you really hope he doesn’t kidnap you. Maybe this was unwise, but you really wanted to sleep, and the streets were just as dangerous for all you know.
Kirishima impressively sprouted wings from his back, two horns grew on his forehead, and his skin pigmentation turning red, a clue to his dragon colour.
He carried you and flew up to his cave in ease, enjoying the familiar rush of air as he soured up to the sky, and the warm comfort of being back to his abode.
He saw the wonder in your pretty eyes as you took in the place, your eyes lingering on his massive hoard, whipping your face to him as you pointed a finger in its direction.
“You gathered all that ?!” You asked, making Kirishima puff up his chest proudly, who nodded at your question. Said hoard contained jewels unseen by the eyes of many in their lifetimes. It contained gold, rubies, emeralds, hand carved rings and hand made necklaces. Among many others.
Immeasurable to the untrained eye, but Kirishima knew everything about his hoard, down to the most minuscule jewels, because a dragons hoard is a sacred thing, a part of them, one could say.
But while every piece is cherished, one is irreplaceable. Kirishima walks over to his hoard, digging seemingly aimlessly, until he pulls out a golden ring with a ruby jewel incrusted in the middle, the first handmade jewel made by him, and the heart of his hoard. Without it, Kirishima would go crazy.
The ruby, which still shone immaculately, was his birth jewel given to him by his father.
He put it own, suddenly feeling content and safer with the weight of the familiar ring on his finger.
You looked on curiously, thinking that the red of the ruby complemented him pretty well, it brought the colour of his eyes out.
“It’s very pretty, did you make it ?” You questioned, peering at him inquisitively.
He nodded vigorously, moving his hand unconsciously to let you admire his ring better.
“I made all of those”
You did read something about dragons being hoard enthusiasts, you just didn’t imagine it’s to this extend.
Kirishima offered you some feather blankets to make your night more comfortable while you slept. Soon, you slumbered peacefully, feeling more content and safer then you have this whole day.
Life was more... anticlimactic after that day. But it a good way. You lived with Kirishima, due to his insistence and your situation, he persisted saying that you can stay with him as long as you need until you get your life back together.
He took you down the next day, as per your request, and escorted you to the town. He went to do his own thing, something about meeting old friends, while you searched for a job.
The town was full of all sorts of people, from mages to shifters, it was a very diverse place, you could even see some rabbits like you here and there. Back at the castle, there was a few rabbits that worked in logistics and the like, you were among them, as rabbits were great and distinguished problem solvers and thinkers.
Being a genius among already intelligent rabbits, you were given the opportunity to study at the age of 9 in the castle, and work there, which you did, but you guessed now you weren’t needed anymore.
Before you could get desponded, you walked  around, taking the place around you but still careful not to get lost and stray to far from the meeting place.
You saw someone exist a place with two thick books clutched tight to their chest. You glanced at the door behind them, seeing an ‘open’ sign. You stopped in your tracks.
You could start there.
You pushed the door open, hearing a bell jingle, alerting a bespectacled tall man of your presence.
It was a large library, and from what you could see, there was only the man in front of you working, while a couple of others sat in the seating area reading quietly.
You approached him, making him smile politely and adjust his glasses which slipped down the bridge of his nose.
“Can I help you miss ?” He asked, his back straight as a rod.
“Yeah um, are you possibly hiring ?” You replied, getting straight to the point. He faltered for a moment, before contemplating quietly.
“I suppose it is incredibly hard to manage on my own...” he murmured.
“Very well then, can you come back tomorrow around this time ?”
You kept your excitement at bay as you reunited with Kirishima later on, who didn’t question you, assuming you came back with no luck.
This time, he made you fly on his back as he lead you back to his cave, and only when he came back did let the excitement take over. You put rationality on hold for a moment, overtook by the moment, and tackled him in a hug, bouncing on the balls of your feet.
Kirishima felt the wing knocked out of him, hugging you back awkwardly as he felt his face flush. ‘Damn, what happened ?’
You practically heard unasked question, and decided to elaborate.
“I got a job, and it was the first place I walked into ! It’s in a library.” You gushed. You liked libraries.
Kirishima’s cheeks quirked up, his eyes looking at you proudly, “I knew you could do it ! You’re so manly !” He gushed excitedly.
Manly ?...
“Huh, manly ?”
“Yes, To be manly you have to have a resilient spirit and courageous heart !” He explained, making you nod. Although you doubted his meaning, it was endearing, he was a pretty quirky dragon.
“Guess I’m pretty manly.” You mused.
...........
A while after working at the library, you managed to feel like you were finally getting back on your feet. You still think about Bakugo sometimes, and it still hurts, but the wound was scabbing, and the hurt was no longer threatening to pour out.
Throughout all of this, one thing was constant: Kirishima.
You will forever wonder what compelled him to offer his kindness to you for so long, but you will forever be grateful to him. When your heart was threatening to harden and ice over, he was be there to bring you warmth and melt it away, like a gentle flare he can breath out so effortlessly.
You never experienced having a friend like that, but you can admit that Kirishima was the best friend you ever had. He was different, but the more differences, the more things you can appreciate and learn about. He was not a man to shy away from helping someone, a quality he told you was hard earned; it’s something he had to implement into himself.
And when the moment came that you can move out, you didn’t expect it to hurt so much.
It almost felt like you were leaving your second home.
“What ? But you don’t have to go !” Kirishima said, quite loudly, that it bordered on shouting. He felt himself getting agitated, and his dragon become unsettled at the thought of you leaving. You don’t have to go.
“But, I’ve intruded long enough, I can’t take advantage of your hospitality any longer.” You coaxed, feeling yourself become upset too at seeing Kirishima’s frown. You never saw him so upset, he was always your cheerful, manly pillar.
“But you’re not intruding, I can’t even remember what it was like to live in this cave without you.” He persisted. But you had to stand your stance on this.
“You know I’ll still visit you, right ?”
His shoulders slumped, sighing, before nodding his head reluctantly.
It felt like he was parting away from his hoard for good, but he had to remember that you aren’t cutting ties with him. His adorable, bunny friend will still be around.
And so, you guys hugged goodbye, but with a promise of seeing each other.
He helped you move your stuff over to your new place, a small sharing house, you and one roommate. You accumulated quite a few things during your stay with Kirishima, along the things you took from ... that place.
Now, you got your own place, your own job, and an amazing friend, life was finally back on track, although very different from what you previously thought It’d be, this one somehow reminds you that you are still self sufficient, and even if a jerk didn’t see the point in having you around, you’ll still live a much better life then he can imagine. Even through the simplicity of it. And that, will be the best revenge.
A few months prior however, a certain hotheads mind wasn’t as lackadaisical about your parting as one would presume.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck
Did he really have to do that ?
Bakugo can remembers the heartbroken and betrayed look on your face and grimaces. He lost you forever now, didn’t he ?
Just like ripping a bandaid off, but it feels like his own heart was ripped out.
He stared at his wall, replaying his words.
He looked at his parchments, the courting letter he made you read flashes before his minds eye.
He tries to sleep, he remembers your adorable figure huddled up to him, demanding him to share his warmth, even though your own was so powerful, it seeped through to his very own blood.
He’s a king, he should behave like it and cut out those child like fantasies.
But then he thinks back to how he imaged you’d look ruling beside him. He always thought you’d look like a goddess with a crown adorning your head and a thron-
Bakugo grabs the nearest object, and throws it across the room, the chosen vase, unfortunately, shatters to it’s demise, it’s previous shape nearly unrecognizable, some pieces were so small, they were almost powder.
Bakugo grabs something else, throwing mindlessly, a beast who lost his sense of reason. He chose what he wanted to do, but his heart was protesting, urging him to go and fix things with you, to kiss you and tell you that you’re the only one for him.
Words that he spoke before, but didn’t live up to.
He looked at his room, panting in the wake of destruction.
Glass shards filled the floor, ink littered it, and blood was splattered, and Bakugou could vaguely feel a sting on his feet and hands, he wasn’t even what just occurred.
The servants cleaned it, and he finally managed to sleep, albeit restlessly.
When he woke up, a couple of hours earlier then he usually would, he sent for the butler, checking whether you were still here.
His heart fell when he heard that you left last night.
Fuck. Fuck. “Fuck.”
Where did you even go ? Bakugo processed the weight of his cruel actions. He sent you away from your only home, where was he expecting you to stay ? Was he stupid ? God, he must be a new, downgraded breed because what dickhead in their right mind would do this to the women they love ?  
His chest ached, he urgently sent guards to the nearby forest and all neighboring places to look for you.
While they were busy, he busied himself with something of his own. He crabbed his quill and a paper, writing an apology letter and cancellation of the wedding. He doesn’t want to marry some pompous princess, and he certainly doesn’t really need to. He only needs you, with your support, he can achieve more then what a measly partnership through marriage can give him-
“We found no trace of her, my king.”
- but he’d already written you off his future.
A heavy weight pressed against his chest. If only he can do things over.
And a month later, he married a princess whose name he didn’t even bother to know.
He saw you you in every corner of the walls, he saw your nose buried in a book in the library, saw your eyes as the moon shone down on you. Even the flowers in his garden remind him of how they looked tucked on your ear.
His ... wife, he supposes, although he despised calling her that, was just as pompous, bratty and arrogant as he assumed. But her kingdom was powerful, now he can reap the benefits, hooray.
She always tries to get him in her bed ( Bakugo couldn’t share a room with her, a requested a separate room a week after they wed) and looks down on anyone, declaring them beneath her and not worth her time with an egocentric huff and an eye roll.
You’d never do that, you were always so compassionate.
The familiar weight pressed down even harder.
He wonders how you’re doing now. Are you happier without him ? Or are you still pining like he is. Did you... find someone else, God, he hopes not, as selfish as it is.
Just like ripping off a bandaid, he thought.
Which brings us back to here.
You sat on your bed, exhausted, but feeling as rejuvenated as ever. This is the first time you lived truly alone, and while is was slightly lonely, it gave you the feeling of freedom you never had back in the castle, or with Kirishima.
You felt like you wanted to take advantage of that, but instead you opted to sleep.
You slowly but surely adapted to your new routine, waking up, doing your shift, visiting Kirishima when you can, and spending the rest of the day lounging at home. Utterly mundane, and your roommate disapproves.
You weren’t exactly close to her, she spent her mornings somewhere unknown, and her nights partying, only coming home to sleep and eat.
Somehow, even though you moved out from Kirishima’s cave, it felt as if you’d gotten closer.
His red hair and crimson eyes made your heart do flips, and his toothy smile caused your stomach to do summersaults. It was a familiar feeling, it caused your heart to ache with a familiar warmth, but the organ was bruised.
Kirishima felt close to you, but so unreachable, he was a free spirit, who where you to bind his wings ?
So, this caused you to do the stupidest, and most cliche move ever. Yes, you avoided him. You stopped going to see him, bringing him trinkets.
God knows you missed his virile musk and familiar warmth, you missed even lounging on top of his hoard, something he insisted on you doing whenever you went to choose a spot to indulge in reading.
You used to compare him to Bakugo a lot, used to sometimes miss the blond man through Kirishima’s actions, but the moment you stopped doing that, the moment you thought about Kirishima whenever you pictured a future, it should’ve warned you, but you were too busy turning to an apple whenever he caught your stare and -
No. “Stop that” you muttered to yourself, putting away the last book in the return pile to it’s
section.
“Good work for today, (L/N) !, see you again tomorrow !” Exclaimed your employer, Iida, making you smile and nod as you walked, leaving the bookshelves behind you and bidding the bespectacled man behind the counter goodbye.
You opened the door, hearing the jingle that you became accustomed to as you closed the door behind you. You only managed to take two steps before your feet were lifted off the earth.
You gasped, instinctively hitting randomly, but relaxing your muscles when you heard a familiar voice.
“Heeey, no need for violence, or did you forget me already !” Although his tone was cheerful, there was a slight bitter note in it that you couldn’t ignore of laugh off.
“How could I forget you, Eiji ?” You replied sombrely, glancing but at him with a small smile, which didn’t manage to fully brighten the seriousness your eyes.
Eiji held on tightly to your midsection as he flew you guys up towards the sky, and it felt like he was carrying you to heaven. The pedestrians nearby stared in astonishment at what seemed to be something akin to an abduction. It happened way to fast for the moment to have been real.
Eiji brought you so high, everyone else looked to be the size of ants, their existence irrelevant, but coexisting with yours and Eiji’s. Everything below looked so unimportant, but the hands around you kelt you rooted to reality as wind whipped through your hair, and his muscular chest pressed against your back, making you scared of making the slightest movements that could shatter the moment.
Suddenly, the landscape beneath you was scrapped and replaced with rippling blue waves and sand. The blue looked so pure and unadulterated, that when Eiji brought you closer to it, you kept almost see your reflection. What a reflection, wide eyes with a mouth to match, and a sexy hunk staring back at you through the glacier mirror. You brought a finger down, touching the water and creating a small, unnoticeable ripple in the huge ocean, afraid of touching it with your whole palm and tainting it’s purity. A small white ripple as you flew was the only fleeting evidence that you ever made contact with something so divine.
How ethereal beauty is, Kirishima mused. He wasn’t about to let you be ethereal in his life though, because although enchanting, you stumbled upon him to stay.
Eventually, he landed down on the sand, putting you down to your feet gently, but already missing your contact.
You guys sat down, uncaring whether your clothes got sand all over them.
Kirishima didn’t try to mask his displeasure anymore, frowning at you grumpily.
“Care to explain why you’ve been avoiding me you silly bunny ?” He asked. The ocean continued to coexist beside you, but Kirishima was once again the only existence you cared about.
You felt the urge to pour your heart out to him, the words traveling from your brain, down to your vocal cords and to the tip of your tongue, and before after-thoughts could plague you and render you voiceless, you took the plunge.
“I like you, no scratch that, I love you.” You confessed, your eyes looking away from his, missing the crimson becoming as intense as a volcano at your confession. You loved him too ? A feeling so euphoric traveled through Kirishima, his fantasies of a future with you were now more than mere fantasies.
Your nervousness spurred you on, making you grab one of your fuzzy ears and caressing it as heated words came out like word vomit. You spoke and spoke, but Kirishima remained silent.
Suddenly, he lunged at you ferociously, stealing the very words from your mouth.
He brought his lips to yours, kissing you roughly yet passionately, as if he was pouring all his repressed desires into locking lips with you. His slightly chapped lips created just the right amount of friction as amorous sounds filled the otherwise empty ocean around you. You brought your hand to the back of his head and pulled him closer, taking his bottom lip and sucking on it gently, and he understood your cue, opening his mouth to let you kiss him deeper.
It felt before like you stood up steady in the dark, finding your footing after stumbling, now, it was like the whole world was being showcased in a clear white light.
You moved back to Kirishima’s cave, his words being ‘no mate of mine is going go be staying far’, you had to complaints. Finally, you can call this familiar place your home. While Kirishima used to be something of a freelancer, he eventually opened his own jewellery store, as per your suggestion. It became incredibly prosperous, but nothing can compare to the incredible jewels of his hoard. Or the incredible mating gift he gave you, a more feminine version of his ruby ring, hand made by him, every time you looked at your hand, you remembered his eyes and a rush of happiness would coarse through you.
Although the income was pretty high, Kirishima would never leave his cave, it was already humongous, so it wouldn’t have trouble fitting family. The business was only there to provide for your future kids with no trouble.
And as another year went by, a hatchling joined your little family. It was a baby boy with black hair and red eyes. Kirishima eventually told you that he wasn’t really a red head, but you could already spot the black roots showing so it wasn’t any surprise. You assured him that his natural hair colour was already manly. He never died his hair again. The baby boy, Eito sprouted wings at the age of two, and managed to fully shift then. Quite early, bit we made do.
The process of teaching him how to fly was frightening for you and Eito though.
You had to have him shift, then throw him off , kind of like teaching a bird how to fly.
Eiji waited down just in case, but your nervousness vanished when Eiichi flapped his wings and soared.
A year later, you gave the three year old Eito a baby sister. A gorgeous baby with red eyes and your (h/c).
Finally, the huge nest Eiji created could be out to use.
.......
Bakugo finally found a reason to divorce his wife after a year of marriage. He found her giving the head night flirty looks, and his suspensions were later confirmed when he caught them in bed in her chambers.
The divorce was quite swift as her kingdom sought to keep the shameful scandal under wraps.
Now, Bakugo could mask in his memories of you in peace.
Four years passed by in a blur for Bakugo. It’s been five years since he last saw you, and weight on his chest didn’t get any lighter. It still hurts to think about the future he scrapped, the things he could’ve been doing with you had he not gotten arrogant and decided marrying a princess was better than pursuing his future with you.
He never searched for you again after that night, you’re better off without him. What would he say to you anyway ?
He’s pathetic, still pining after a woman who he hasn’t seen in 5 years.
........
Bakugo was in a nearby village, looking for any suspicious activity relating to the recent abductions. He wasn’t required to be here, but he had nothing better to do. He’s always at the top of his work.
He walked around, straining his senses to try and capture anything conspicuous or otherwise.
He eventually found himself at a tiny playground for kids. Although by the time he arrived there, the sky was painted a hue of orange, and the park was empty save for one lone figure on a swing. He would have turned around, but he was out for anything, and being at a kids park was slightly odd.
He looked at the figure, and his throat felt as dry as a Sahara. His heart palpitated wildly when he saw your familiar figure parched on a swing cooing at a bundle in your arms.
He always thought imagined what you’d look like with a baby in your arms, but seeing it now caused him un imaginable pain. His heart burnt, as if a dagger coated with poison kept stabbing him time and time again.
Before he knew it, his feet carried him over to you, and now his shadow loomed over your figure.
You looked up, your pupils shrinking upon seeing his familiar face, hooded with a pessimistic sheen. You’ve never seen him look like this, even when he kicked you out, its a foreign look on his face, like looking at a piece of art you’ve long given up on.
“(Y/n), is it yours ?” His strained voice asked, so softly, if could have disappeared with the passing wind. He was staring at you, his vermilion eyes seeing yours for the first time in years. You’d gotten even prettier.
“Yes, her name is Eiko.” His heart dropped at your answer. You seemed fo live her a lot, you probably loved her father a lot too. A pang went through him at the thought of the lucky bastard.
He looked down at the girl, he could pretend for a moment that her red eyes were his.
How ironic for your daughter to have the same - or at least similar - eye colour as him.
It’s definitely a slap in the gut when he sees a dragon’s mating mark on your neck, and then to see said dragon himself.
“Heey babe, I got you crepes !” He said, kissing you on the cheek as if you’re the only person he sees. Which is proven when he say Bakugo and frowned, turning to you.
“Babe, who’s that ?” He asked innocently, making Bakugo grind his jaw. His head felt shaky when he saw a short boy come out from behind his dad’s legs. He looked a lot like his father. You had what seemed to be the picture perfect family.
“It’s nobody Eiji.”
547 notes · View notes
dreamsapphire28 · 3 years
Text
This is based on @yasuyorimarriedsamo reincarnation au I really liked it back then but you know inspiration is a fickle thing and it has struck now months later.
So in this au the Mc is the reincarnation of one of the exiles, in this version I'll be using my favorite exile Eurynome and my Mc1 Akemi.
The birth of a world, the touch of his beloved, ruling over his creation, a fight over who was the one to give origin to their world with the one he loved the most then making up accepting that the birth of their world was only possible due to their joined effort and love for each other, being betrayed by his loving sister, sinking alone into Oceanus and later being kept company by the sweet child who was also casted away only to leave that child behind when he passed from the world.
A name, his former, Eurynome.
Those memories and many others from the creator of Olympus were in his mind when Akemi was summoned to Tokyo that fateful night, they felt both vivid and distant like he was there living them but at the same time as if he lived them through someone else, Akemi could not remember his own life before coming to Tokyo all he had were the memories of Eurynome, Akemi was sure that at some point in the past he had been her, still he also was certain that he is his own person with his own life, he is more than just the continuation of someone else's existence, Akemi reassured himself.
Being able to recall Eurynome's life so vividly and having no knowledge of his own sometimes made it difficult for Akemi to try and differentiate himself from her, specially when he was overcome with emotions he couldn't fully understand, the ocean would be a great example of this just the sight of it filled him with such a bittersweet feeling, he knew it was because of that child, Hephaestus, that he had.... that Eurynome had taken care of the one she had to leave behind, but Akemi was a different person, so why did he feel that way? the memories he had of that time were both beautiful and sorrowful they could bring a tear to the eye of an outside observer, to Akemi however they felt close, personal, to the point where he wonders what became of Hephaestus even thinking about what things in Tokyo he could enjoy. Akemi had already accepted that he had once been Eurynome, but the he that existed right now is a different person, Akemi hopes beyond hope.
Being such a sensible subject to him Akemi never revealed the fact that he could remember his past life to none of his new friends in Tokyo, he did a pretty good job at hiding it too, most of the time, there where moments where people would think that Akemi seemed wise beyond his years or were surprised of his deep understanding of the concept of a world system as if he had been closely involved with one. Then of course there was his guardian Kyouma Mononobe, Akemi could not for the life of him tell if his teacher was aware of Akemi having these memories or if he just happened to say things that reassured him when he wrestled with the thought of just being an extension of someone else's life.
In the beginning Akemi wanted to hate Eurynome but hating her felt like hating himself, the interactions and connections Akemi had made during his time in Tokyo how he helped others in turn helped him with his insecurity about his own identity, now he didn't hate her, Akemi still knew that a lot of his feelings towards various things were influenced by Eurynome's memories but he could live with that, he had made peace with it and now in some way felt proud that he was carrying her legacy he could do that while still being someone else other than her.
Until the battle at Aoyama cemetery when a certain golden dragon had made a brief appearance in that place. Akemi knew who the dragon was the second he laid eyes on him the dragon had changed, yes, but Akemi could never mistake him. Not once before had Akemi felt so conflicted about if he truly was just an extension of Eurynome, he was overwhelmed with so many feelings that he could not begin to comprehend, joy, love, relief, longing, sorrow, regret, grief, just looking at Ophion stirred so many things from the depths of his soul that it rendered Akemi completely paralyzed, Ophion had to leave before his friends could shake Akemi out of his stupor. Luckily Ophion hadn't stayed for too long, but the impression he left on Akemi was not small, ever since encountering him Akemi could not get Ophion out of his mind not even during his infiltration of the Tokyo casino or while running around Shinjuku avoiding the ongoing debacle caused by the Roppongi Tycoons. Akemi knew for a fact that he was more than likely to meet someone from Euryonome's past sooner or later, even so he did not expect to be so shaken by it.
Now Akemi found himself before the one responsible for the current chaos in Shinjuku no other than Ophion, just looking at him Akemi could fell himself freezing up again overwhelmed with emotions. Then Ophion started boasting about how he, the sole creator of Olympus, could not be defeated, Akemi could not catch everything that Ophion said but it was enough to make all his conflicting emotions converge on a single point, fury would not be the proper word it was something a bit more petty, Akemi felt that it was more of an attack to his pride rather than an outright insult, "You deceitful lizard, saying you created the world on your own, as if" Akemi spat fixing Ophion with a sharp glare, Ophion was taken aback such a petulant child to speak like that to him the great Ophion, Akemi continued talking before Ophion could give him a piece of his mind "I thought you had learned your lesson back then, seems I was wrong, maybe I ought to knock off your other tusk to drive in the point" Akemi hissed angrily, Ophion eyes widened as he slowly reached for the place where his missing tusk once was, 'how did this child knew of that?' Ophion thought in surprise.
The battle raged on Ophion had sent his underlings deal with his opponents to little avail, he certainly did not expect having to deal with both Hakumen and Lucifuge, those two would have already dispatched each other if it wasn't for that damn insolent brat, the only person Ophion had not accounted for in his plan was making it all go awry. Believing that unless he disposed of these pest at this very moment his plan would become completely unsalvageable and seeing that regular minions were completely ineffective against the current foes Ophion made a brash decision, he used his sacred artifact to summon a younger version of himself ordering him to dispose of the rabble interfering with his scheme. The younger Ophion's oppressing aura made everyone stare at him cautiously, that was everyone except for Akemi who gave the same sharp glare he gave the older Ophion to the younger one, as if doing so was something that Akemi had done before many times. When young Ophion's gaze found Akemi the younger dragon's face was overcome with surprise "You..." young Ophion muttered quietly as he started walking towards Akemi who didn't so much as flinch when the dragon's intense gaze pinned on him. The younger dragon stopped right in front of Akemi and suddenly it was his turn to be surprised, young Ophion embraced him tightly yet lovingly "So this is where you've been" Ophion whispered, Akemi was speechless for a second, he felt tears prickling the corners of his eyes as his sword slipped from his grasp, Akemi hugged Ophion "Yeah, sorry you had to come all the way here for me" Akemi apologized.
Akemi and young Ophion's embrace was interrupted by the older Ophion "My younger inexperienced self the one you're embracing it's your enemy deal with him at once!" old Ophion snapped furiously. With the older Ophion's attention diverted Toji seized the opportunity to attack the older dragon, to the bewilderment of everyone present the clash of the two rules resulted in the creation of an exception with his rule now overflowing old Ophion entered a rampage bursting through the ceiling of the tower. "How could this happen? my rule and Ophion's don't oppose one another this outcome should not be" Toji muttered in equal parts astonishment and shame "Well yes and no, your attack didn't make a contradiction it's more like a paradox, the sole fact that Ophion could call upon his past self further proves that he didn't create that sacred artifact and by extension Olympus" Akemi explained a twinge of smugness in his tone at that last part as he walked up to Toji "Quite the sharp one are you not and here I thought I'd have to explain that to you" Alice mused "Say you seem to be quite familiar with Ophion's sacred artifact aren't you my dear knight?" She inquired looking intently at Akemi, who averted his gaze "What do you mean by paradox?" Toji asked confused "Under normal circumstances your attack wouldn't have caused an exception but Ophion summoned a younger version of himself, taking that version of himself from the time he existed in the past, your attack meant to destroy the egg made it so that the younger one should cease to exist but the older one still exist in Tokyo even though technically his past self had been exterminated and so the snake endlessly bites it's own tail" Akemi explained "Still the app treats this situation no different than the previous instances where exceptions appeared so we should be able to deal with this one the same way, but first we must deal with Ophion" Alice added.
With the help from both the summoners and Tycoons, Akemi and young Ophion defeated the enraged older Ophion who now layed on the balcony of the tower that served as the Tycoons headquarters, Akemi was kneeling beside him holding his hand as the dragon slowly dissipated into light "So it truly is you my beloved spouse" old Ophion said his tone uncharacteristically soft and peaceful "Not precisely, I bear her soul, I can remember her live, at some point I was her, but not now the person before you is someone else, I'm sorry to get your hopes up Ophion" Akemi apologized while smiling softly at Ophion "That may be but I can still see her same brilliance withing you and now I hold for you the same feelings" Ophion affirmed using his other hand to caress Akemi's face, he closed his eyes leaning into the touch with a relieved expression on his face then the sensation of Ophion's hand on his face faced as Ophion disappeared into the rainbow of transient light, the wind carrying the voice of the old dragon as he made a vow to his beloved. Akemi stood up to face the younger Ophion who was also fading out of the current time "I owe you an apology as well, you heard what I said before I am not Eurynome at least not in the way you thought I was" Akemi confessed avoiding eye contact with the young dragon, Ophion embraced Akemi once again "I am not one to fuss over such minimal details, to me you are and will always be my beloved spouse, no matter who you were or who you become it will not change anything for me" Ophion assured Akemi felt relief once again wash over him as he embraced the golden dragon "Such a cruel world to make us part just when we were reunited" Ophion sighed melancholically "Don't feel pity for me this is nothing that I don't deserve" Akemi interjected "Whatever could you mean?" Ophion questioned "Isn't it obvious? when Eurynome, no not only her I'm just as guilty, when I was exiled from Olympus I leaved you alone, now the world is taking you away from me because I abandoned you" Akemi stated "Such thoughts are not deserving of you my dear" Ophion said, while softly running his fingers through Akemi's hair who looked up at him small traces of tears on his face "For no matter if the world itself wants to do us apart I will cross whatever distance and surmount every obstacle to find you again, this parting is only temporary I will find my way back to you" Ophion declared boldly before disappearing into the rainbow of transient light promising to once again see his spouse. Toji arrived to find Akemi with his back to him looking at the sky "Akemi?" Toji called out softly, Akemi turned around his eyes watery tears threatening to spill at any moment "Is everything alright, do you need a moment?" Toji felt incredibly awkward having no experience in how to comfort someone, Akemi wiped his eyes with his sleeve putting on a smile that could only be described as brave, it was clear that he was hurting but that would have to wait until they could avert the current crisis "It's okay Toji, there's still things we need to resolve, I'll have some time to think about this later" Akemi responded trying to hide his sadness making his way to the exception territory.
59 notes · View notes
aurabird · 3 years
Text
I'd give my heart, I'd give my soul (I'd turn it back, it's my fault)
Pix just wanted to get home, death by the void was the most painful way to go and he was sick of it, he was sick of seeing it be the only escape from the End by his fellow empires as well. If only he had stopped to listen then maybe things would have turned out differently.
At the end of the day, he felt nothing but guilt weighing heavily on his shoulders...
...and guilt is a weakness that can easily be exploited.
Tw: I think just mentions of blood & violence in this one.
Also on Ao3
------------------
Pix could hear nothing but the sound of the sand under his feet as he trekked through the desert, solemn and emotionally exhausted. Guilt weighed heavily on his shoulders and while he hadn't been the one to land the killing blow on the enderdragon, he was responsible for spilling most of its blood. Gem...Fwhip...Scott, Shelby, Kathrine, Pearl...all of them had tried so hard to keep it alive for even a moment more.
He remembered the flashes of their deaths as Sausage blew the end crystals they were placing up with maniac glee and eyes red as blood, he remembered calling out their names as their bodies burst into magic and their items left behind. Yet he still fought on the wrong side of the battle...if only he'd stopped to listen, then maybe everything would have turned out differently.
The Copper King...no, he wasn't a king...he was a fool who just unleashed a great evil beyond even he, an oracle, had ever seen before.
He'd lost track of how many days he'd been walking, his mind too burdened to care anymore. But he could not die, not of hunger, not of thirst, not even of age. A pitiful existence awaited him, one rightfully deserved for his actions. No village pitied him, no wandering traders offered him wares, even the elements themselves were out to get him.
When Pix slept, he was never greeted with dreams, only nightmares of destruction and chaos, of corruption and pain, of corpses and blood...of the other Empires destroying each other in barbaric warfare.
If only he could turn it all back...undo his mistake.
His vision began to blur as the world around him started spin. Conscious thought was long gone by the time he collapsed into the cold sand.
Fwhip had him at sword point, a murderous glare in his eyes as blue met brown. "Why did you do it, Pix? All of this is your fault."
He tried to reply, but no words came out. He...he was sorry! He...he hadn't known!
Blood splattered on his face.
-
"Traitor!" Gem cried, amethyst crystals trapping his legs and preventing movement.
Kathrine, Pearl, and Shelby stood at her side, disappointment and disdain in their eyes. "What are we going to do with him Gem?" Pearl asked, her voice dark and full of malice.
"Toss him in the dungeon to rot. He doesn't deserve to see daylight."
Cold stone and chains greeted his every waking hour
-
Joel lay broken and motionless before him; his eyes dull and empty with death. Lizzie grieved over his body in anguish at the loss of her husband.
The second she noticed him, the Ocean Queen's eyes glowed blue with vengeance...with hatred..."YOU!" she snarled, "YOU DID THIS!"
Pix couldn't breathe as the whirlpool suffocated and drowned him.
-
Scott held him against the wall, a dagger against his neck. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you." the elf said, his voice cold and sharp.
Pix couldn't form words...he couldn't speak! He wanted to apologize for everything but couldn't! He was sorry! So, so, sor-
He never finished the thought as the blade slit his throat.
-
Jimmy trembled in fear, his body covered in new and old wounds. "Pix...why? I thought...I thought you were my ally and friend..."
'I still am!' he wanted to cry, but his voice wouldn't budge again as usual.
"You left us, Pix...you left us all to die..."
At that, Jimmy's quivering form fell limp and lifeless at his feet. When Pix dared to look up he saw them all, every ruler, even Sausage and Joey...dead...corrupted.
And it was all HIS FAULT!
He jolted awake, sweat dripping down his back as his vision slowly welcomed reality back. His heart was racing as he gasped for the cold air of the moon-lit desert. His body shook and it wasn't long before Pix realized his face was wet with tears...he was crying.
He shook his head to try and purge the nightmares from his mind, but failed. With a sigh, he got to his feet again and took off aimlessly once more, there was no going back to sleep for him now, not after that.
Then, the sky drew dark as thick clouds blocked out the moon and his vision went black once more. But it was not in the embrace of unconsciousness, he could still see a short distance ahead of himself...no, he was blinded...a blindness spell...
Pix already knew who it was. "What do you want?" he asked, voice full of exhaustion, "If you're here to kill me then make it quick."
Xornoth entered his view, "Quite the contrary, Copper King. It is not death I wish to bring you, it is release from your burden."
Pix gave a pained chuckle at the demon's words, "If you think thanking me for my help in killing the dragon and getting you to full power is going to make me feel even the slightest bit better, then you would be mistaken. My burden is rightfully deserved, my actions had consequences and now I have to live with them until they are undone."
"And yet instead of trying to undo them, you're out here alone in the desert, wasting away in your exile. You are powerless and unprotected, Copper King. Shunned and abandoned by those that once trusted you."
Blinded by darkness and distracted by the demon before him, Pix was unaware of the red tendrils that had begun coiling around his legs, preventing him from movement. "Tell me, Copper King. What will being out here accomplish for you? Do you think that if you're gone long enough that they will simply forget you existed? Question who the corrupted structures in the sands once belonged to and what they once were? Perhaps they were a once-proud empire that acted as an oasis, a place where life and death were worshiped. Perhaps a kingdom abandoned by its ruler and left to rot in corruption's wake."
Stop...
"Or perhaps you expect to return once they've all killed each other in true mortal fashion? Too afraid to face the punishments they'll give you for your role in killing the dragon like the traitor you are? The seeds of distrust are already there, all it'll take is influence to get them to grow."
Stop...
"And yet you miss them, don't you? Worry about them now that you cannot see their fates? The gullible Codfather and the lovers of land and sea. The chaotic tinkerer and the loyal wizard. The gentle farmer and the selfless fae. The naive gnome and the ignorant elf. Even the idiot king and the parrot hybrid...you worry how they are faring without you, if you could ever be forgiven by them"  
Stop...
"But we both know that, even if you did return after this exile...by then who do you expect to be but a hollowed shell of yourself?"
"STOP! Please...just...stop..." Pix begged between sobs, "What do you want..."
Xornoth's grin grew wider as he used a claw to tilt the fallen ruler's head upwards to meet his gaze, "I want your loyalty, Copper King...and I'm not giving you a choice."
There was no time to respond before agony coursed through Pix's body, a scream tearing from his throat as he collapsed to the ground, writhing in pain. His eyes opened enough to see the pulsating red and purple webs snaking up his flesh, corruption searing into skin as it traveled.
He tried to fight it, he tried to resist the influence that had started clouding his mind...
...and he failed.
20 notes · View notes
allisondraste · 3 years
Text
Announcing: Ambivalence
Tumblr media
It has been exactly one year to the day since I published the final chapter of my Nathaniel Howe/F!Cousland long-fic, Temperance, and I could not think of a better time to unveil it’s first sequel, which I have had on the back-burner while I took a much-needed hiatus from writing. 
This will be a far briefer story than it’s predecessor, but tells an important part of Nate and Liss’ story.  
I hope you all enjoy!
Fandom: Dragon Age
Pairing: Nathaniel Howe x Female Cousland 
Story Summary: It has been just over a year since Nathaniel Howe and Elissa Cousland were reunited, childhood friendship forged into a love that endured a decade apart.  However, every love is tested at some point. Presented with circumstances that could either make or break their relationship, Nate and Liss are no different.
[AO3 Link]
Chapter 1: Pity and Pride
Chapter Summary:  It is no secret that there is trouble in paradise, and Nathaniel is quickly becoming tired of his friends’ concern.
Vigil’s Keep, Solace 9:33 Dragon
Sunlight poured into the room, undeterred by curtains carelessly drawn open the night before, forming a halo around the woman who lay next to him with bare limbs draped comfortably across his body.  It was rare that he awoke before her, rarer still to catch a glimpse of her sleeping peacefully, features unmarred by the nightmares that so often plagued her rest.  It was difficult to fret over their privacy when the uncovered window painted such a beautiful portrait.  How many years had he longed  for moments such as this, fleeting and perfect, always just out of his reach?  
And now Liss was there, snoring softly and tangled in bedsheets.  Unable to quell the urge to touch her, to make sure she was real, he reached forward and brushed a lock of hair from her face before allowing his fingertips to settle on her cheek.  She stirred, thick brows pressing together as her eyes flickered open, rich, brown, and sparkling with a groggy smile.
“Good morning, Nate,” she said quietly, voice hoarse as she shifted beneath the sheets and brought her hand up to cover his, an intricate ring glittering on her finger.  
“My love,” he whispered, allowing his eyes to blink closed just briefly.
Then, he awoke.
Nathaniel sighed as his eyes opened, not to a lovely sun-soaked room in Antiva, but rather to his own tomb-like quarters in Vigil’s Keep, with nothing but low-burning sconces illuminating the depressing stone walls and floors.  It was too cold, and he rolled over to be closer to the warmth of his bed partner, stretching out an arm to drape across her.
However, his arm fell only against a mound of blankets, his dreams having played a cruel trick on him once again.  This was not the first time in recent days that he’d woken up to find his bed empty, the woman who had lain with him the night before gone without a trace other than the turned back sheets and coverlet on her side of the bed.  In fact, it seemed that he woke up alone more often than not.
“Liss,” he asked the empty room, as if it could summon her for him, as if he did not know she was already up and running about the Keep pretending that everything was fine.
When the room did not answer him, he sighed and sat up begrudgingly, shivering as the chilly air met his bare skin, and slid out of bed.  Without any windows, discerning the hour proved difficult, yet he figured it was past time that he got ready and behaved as an acting Warden-Constable anyway.  
In peace, vigilance , and all of that.
A rustling from his closet drew him from his thoughts and his head darted toward the direction of the noise out of instinct.  Cautiously, he made his way over to the door and placed an ear up against it, hoping to get a better idea of what lay inside.
Meow .
Nathaniel sighed and shook his head as he opened the door, glancing down to a pair of bright green eyes examining him.  Ser Pounce-A-Lot was a ridiculous name for a creature who only ever snuck about and examined the world with cold calculation, pouncing very little, if at all.
“This,” he grumbled, stepping out of the animal’s way, “Is how curiosity kills your kind . ”
The cat tilted his head in an almost unnatural way before mewing again and sauntering forward, snaking himself around Nathaniel’s leg and purring gratuitously for several long moments.
“You are keeping me from my duties, Your Lordship ,” Nathaniel said, glaring down at Ser Pounce, who appeared wholly undeterred, before stopping, blinking up at him, and then chomping down on the back of his heel.  He hissed in pain and pulled away reflexively.
Reaching down to give the cat a scratch behind the ears, Nathaniel said,“Perhaps you were meant to be a war beast after all.”
Ser Pounce nuzzled into his hand, gave a final meow, and pranced out of the room as if nothing had transpired. He wondered how he had ended up caring for the damnable creature in the first place.  Then again, it was not as if Anders had been in any sort of condition to care for a pet when he fled the Keep, nor was Nathaniel certain Justice would have allowed him to.  He shook his head free of the disappointing, bitter memories of his friends. He had more pressing matters to attend.
It took him little time to dress himself in his Warden attire. The days had been short and peaceful since The Mother and her spawn were destroyed, yet he preferred to dress the part of a Grey Warden, armed and prepared for an attack at any moment.  In the aftermath of Loghain’s slanderous campaign against them, and with the decision to allow Amaranthine to fall looming over their heads, the Wardens had ample other enemies now, enemies that the Darkspawn threat had once held at bay.  Anything could happen.
Appropriately equipped, Nathaniel straightened his posture and stepped out into the hallway.
It was an odd experience to reside in his childhood home, yet on an entirely different floor and wing. When Delilah assumed control of the arling, she had kindly offered that he keep his old room, as part of the Howe family.  He promptly declined, having no fond feelings for the room to which he’d been unfairly banished more times than he could count.  Besides, he preferred to stay with the other Wardens, his new family.
Nathaniel made his way through several dark corridors and down multiple flights of stairs, feet guided more by muscle memory than sight, until he’d reached the ground floor.  He couldn’t say for certain he would find Liss in the great hall, but it was as good of a place as any to start.
The largest room in Vigil’s Keep, was the only room with any semblance of warmth.  One of the longest-standing, impregnable fortresses in Ferelden had no use for stained glass windows, open courtyards, or natural lighting of any kind.  His father had always declared that it was called a keep and not a castle for a reason, an underhanded criticism of the things Nathaniel pretended not to love about Castle Cousland when he was a child.
He scanned the space before him, nearly vacant with the exception of pages and scouts milling about waiting to be assigned tasks.  He thought to approach one of them to ask if they’d seen Liss, but thought better of it.  They likely had no idea who she was or what she looked like, and they no doubt had better things to do than participate in this unnecessary game of hide-and-seek.
“Morning, Nathaniel,” called a voice off to his side, a voice he did not particularly wish to hear at present.  He turned to see Alistair standing several feet away, wearing that lopsided, cheerful grin that usually occupied his face.  The younger man had thickened up slightly since they’d first met over a year prior, an effect of safety, security, and not carrying the weight of a Blight on his back.  He looked healthy and happy, and Nathaniel envied his ability to bounce back.
“Morning, Alistair” Nathaniel replied dryly.  He paused, eyes darting around the room in another cursory sweep before returning to the other man. “Have you seen Liss, by any chance?”
Alistair flinched at the question. “You mean, you  haven’t seen her this morning?”
“No.”
“Damn...” he shifted his weight, laughing nervously and bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his head, “I, um.. I haven’t seen her either.”
“Wonderful,” Nathaniel muttered, shaking his head.
“Listen, you know how she is,” Alistair said, placing a hand on Nathaniel’s shoulder in what was undoubtedly an attempt at reassurance, a gesture of pity. “She probably just got one of those wild hairs of hers, ran off to the library in the middle of the night, and is now passed out under a pile of books.  I’m sure everything’s fine.”
Nathaniel blinked at him several times, then looked down to glare at the hand that was resting on his shoulder. “Uh…huh.”
The other man withdrew his hand awkwardly, frowning. “Sorry,” he remarked pointedly, holding his hands up in defeat, “Remind me to wait until you’ve woken up properly next time I decide to show you basic human decency.”
Nathaniel deflated at Alistair’s words. “No, I apologize.  I am just a bit tense as of late.”
“Yeah.” Alistair looked down at the floor and kicked at the stone with the toe of his boot before looking back up. “I know.  For what it’s worth, if I was in your shoes I’d… I don’t know what I’d do.  Probably fling myself into the nearest body of water.”
Nathaniel snorted derisively. “Thanks.”
“That sounded bad didn’t it? What I meant is--”
“I know what you meant.”
“Right.” Alistair let out a nervous laugh and shook his head. “I’m going to stop talking now, before I put my other foot in my mouth.”
Nathaniel offered him a hint of a smirk to indicate that there had been no real harm done, then teased, “I believe that is a wise decision.”
Alistair smiled in return and nodded. “Anyway, I was actually meant to inform you that the commander would like to speak with you. She’s in her study right now.”  
“I shall see her at once.”
“And if I run into our Dear Lady Cousland, I will tell her you were looking for her.”
“Please, do.”
Concluding his conversation with Alistair, Nathaniel headed immediately toward the corridor that led back to the commander’s study, the room that had previously belonged to his father’s portraits and trophies.  As a child, he’d spent many hours hiding away in that damned room, dreaming himself up a better father than Rendon would ever be.  He was grateful Lucia now occupied the space, her solemn kindness and humility painting over the history that had once lived there, and he hoped that with time, she would eliminate his father’s stain completely.
The large wooden door  was left slightly ajar, a small band of lamplight leaking out into the hallway.  He still stopped and decided to knock, rather than just entering as others would have.  Despite her open-door policy, he refused to startle her without need. Three quick raps, and he waited for her response.
“You can come in, Nathaniel,” she called just loud enough for him to hear her.
He pushed the door open and entered, laughing. “How did you know it was me?”
Lucia looked up at him with a hint of a smile. “You’re the only person I know who knocks when the door is open.”
“Right,” he replied, pressing the door closed behind him.
The young woman he called his friend and commanding officer stood bent over her desk, despite a perfectly adequate chair sitting just behind her.  She propped herself up with one hand flat on the surface of the desk, as she thumbed through pages of some antiquated tome with the other.  Though her long, dark hair was styled in a low ponytail, it still fell down and cast a shadow over her face.  Surrounding her were stacks of other old texts and scrolls.
Lucia had been rather consumed by research as of late. An unassuming journal had found its way into her hands, one with writings that had been identified as Warden-Commander Duncan’s.  In it, he had documented an encounter with their very own Architect.  She hoped the record would provide them with some valuable information about the unsettling creature, and it had.  But it had also made mentions of an unnamed Grey Warden, a mage, who was freed from her calling, tainted blood healed and unable to be re-joined.
Ever since, Lucia had been pouring over Grey Warden lore and history and manuscripts about obscure magics, no doubt searching for something they all wanted deep down: A cure.  As honorable as membership in the order sounded, the same power that granted them their Blight-stopping capabilities became an unbearable curse in peaceful times, each moment that passed one breath closer to The Calling.  The commander was so young, and he understood her newfound compulsion to find a solution.  She was not the only one struggling to cope with the reality of a Grey Warden’s fate.
“You asked to speak to me,” he stated tentatively, almost as a question.
Lucia’s gaze darted up to him, and she straightened her posture. “Yes, I did.”
“And?”
She walked around her desk to stand in front of him, piercing eyes searching his face for an answer to a question she had yet to ask.  “How are you holding up?”
A twinge of irritation sparked through him. “Holding up?”
“Perhaps it is presumptuous of me to say as your commanding officer, but we are also friends, and as your friend I feel obligated to point out that things with Elissa have been a bit… tense since you two returned from Highever.”
“That is presumptuous,” Nathaniel replied through his teeth, “Even as my friend.”
Lucia stood, unfazed and blinking. “You can be annoyed with my concern if you wish, but that won’t make it go away.”
“Your concern is wasted.”  His words were clipped, and he crossed his arms.  “I am fine.”
“Nate,” she urged him, dropping her typical formality and reaching forward to place a hand on his arm, a gesture of which he was quickly tiring.  Still, they were friends, and he wondered if it might give him some clarity to discuss the matter with the woman.
He opened his mouth, prepared to provide a more honest answer, but clamped it shut as a knock rang out on the door behind him.  He released the breath he’d been holding, never more grateful for an interruption.  
“Who’s there,” Lucia asked.
“It’s Liss.  I just spoke with Alistair, and he said you wanted to see me.”
Nathaniel glared at Lucia waiting for an explanation that she did not provide.  Instead, she released his arm and moved to sit down in the chair at her desk. “You can come in.”
The door creaked open slowly, and Nathaniel turned to see Liss.  She froze in the doorway when their eyes met, wincing as if his presence had inflicted physical pain. Then she blinked suspiciously between him and the commander before flashing a smile and bouncing into the room. ”
“Good morning, Lucia,” she announced cheerfully, as she moved to stand beside Nathaniel, giving him a confusing, playful nudge with her elbow. ”Hey Nate.”
“Now that you’re both here,” Lucia began formally, “I have an assignment for you two.”
“Oh?”  Liss perked up, and fidgeted excitedly.
“Some sort of Warden business, I presume,” Nathaniel asked, making every effort to hide both his discomfort and his relief.
“Yes. ” Lucia nodded.  “As you know, a new Junior Warden was transferred to us from the Warden Fortress at Montsimmard last week.”
“The woman from Kirkwall?”
“Her name’s Bethany,” Liss corrected with a quick laugh, “I met her in passing near the baths.  She didn’t seem too keen on having a conversation with me at the time.”
“Warden Bethany has been through quite an ordeal in the past six months,” Lucia explained, “She is an apostate who was living as a refugee in Kirkwall with her family after they fled Lothering during the Blight.  She was Joined by a contingent of Orlesian Wardens after an encounter with darkspawn in the Deep Roads.”
Nathaniel frowned and brought his hand to his chin. “The Deep Roads? What was she doing in the Deep Roads?”
“It seems pretty fortunate that she would have stumbled into a group of Grey Wardens, too,” Liss chimed in.
“It had nothing to do with fortune,” Lucia continued, words stern and direct.  She stood up, clenching her fists at her sides. “Bethany and her older sister were part of an expedition into the Deep Roads to search for artifacts and treasure, accompanied by one of our own, who provided them with confidential Warden maps to help them navigate.”
The palpable vitriol from Lucia meant one thing, and one thing only.
“Anders,” Nathaniel asked.
“Yes,” she responded defeatedly, “According to Bethany he’s been living in Kirkwall ever since he deserted, running some sort of healing clinic.  He is the reason they were able to find the other Wardens.”
“Wow,” Liss remarked, “That all seems uncharacteristically noble of him.”
“Uncharacteristic of Anders, perhaps,” Nathaniel stated, “But not of Justice.”
“Right.”  Lucia’s gaze was fixed on the ground, deep in thought.   She looked up at them before sighing and speaking again, “As unorthodox as it may seem to assign a mission based upon personal feelings, I believe my reasoning is sound.  Anders is still a Grey Warden, one who I conscripted, which makes him my responsibility. I would like for you two, along with Bethany, to travel to Kirkwall and pay him a visit. ”
“And do what exactly,” he asked, annoyed by what felt like a waste of time, “Drag him back to the Keep by his collar?”
“That would be a sight.” Liss chuckled at his side and he rolled his eyes. “Ten silvers he sets your little chin hairs on fire.”
“He would have to catch me first. Twelve silvers.”
She smiled and winked at him. “It’s a bet.”
“If I am being completely honest about my intentions, I just want you to check in on him, “Lucia continued more softly, paying no heed to their irreverence to the task, “Make sure that he is safe and warn him against sharing too many delicate Warden secrets.”
“So this is not “official” Warden business then,” Nathaniel asked.
“I’m not sure the Wardens ever do anything ‘officially,’” Liss stated flatly.
“This is just for my peace of mind,” Lucia answered with a sad smile, “Besides, I thought you two might enjoy some time away together.”
Her investment in their relationship shamed him, causing his face to flush.  Lucia had so many other things that she could and should have been fretting over instead.   He flicked his eyes over to Liss, wondering if she felt as he did.
She only frowned and shrugged out a reply.   “I could use a vacation.”
“Kirkwall is a shithole,” Nathaniel told her frankly, words more pointed than he’d intended,”It won’t exactly be a vacation.”
“Not with that attitude, it won’t be,” she chirped, not missing a beat.
“Will you go,” Lucia asked.
“Of course,” he replied, with a reassuring smile.  Liss nodded along with him.
“Thank you both.”  Lucia seemed to relax, and sat back slowly into her chair. “You all should prepare to head out to Amaranthine first thing in the morning.  I’ve arranged passage for you there.”
Nathaniel nodded in acknowledgement, noticing Liss do the same as she spoke, “Is there anything else you needed, Commander?”
“No,” she shook her head, “You are free to go.  Safe travels.”
When he turned to face Liss , she was biting her lip and appeared to be lost in thought, a small wrinkle between her brows.  It was ridiculous to ache for someone who slept beside him each night, to miss her.  And yet he did.  Maker did he miss her.  That their companions sensed some sort of tension between them was not inaccurate, and had he been honest with Alistair and Lucia, he would have admitted that things were not “fine.”  He just was not ready to broach the topic of what happened in Highever with anyone other than Liss, and she had been all but avoiding any opportunity they had to discuss it for the better part of two weeks.  
Shaking himself free of his own thoughts, he nudged Liss with his elbow and held his arm out to her.  There was no guarantee that she would accept it, but he would be damned if he did not offer it to her.  When she glanced over to him, then down at his arm, and back up to meet his gaze,  her face lit up, bright and warm, and relief washed over him.  Thank The Maker he could still make her smile.
Without hesitation, she looped her arm through his and blinked up at him expectantly. “Shall we?”
A quiet chuckle escaped him.  “Of course, my lady.”
Liss had always been adept at filling silences, or at the very least making them comfortable; however, as they left Lucia’s study together, arm-in-arm, an oppressive and awkward quiet fell over them.  Nathaniel was no stranger to uncomfortable silences, but to share one with Liss was an entirely new experience.  He racked his mind for anything to talk about that would not cause her to withdraw from him, but came up short.  Hopefully he would be able to suffer his own discomfort until they made it back to their shared quarters.
“So,” she spoke up suddenly, much to Nathaniel’s relief, “Kirkwall. Just the two of us… and that Bethany person, of course. ��This’ll be fun.”  She held his arm more tightly and let her head fall to rest against his shoulder.
“You really think so,” he asked, amused at her optimism.
She pulled away suddenly to look up at him, a pain he did not intend to inflict buried in her expression. “You don’t?”
“That’s not what I—” he paused, immediately frustrated and attempting to keep his composure— “It wasn’t meant to be serious.”
Liss continued to glare up at him, tears welling in her eyes, and he did not have a shred of an idea how to respond.  She had never been a rational person, but this was a bit extreme.  He squeezed and released his hands at his side as he fought the urge to reach out to her.  
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” she muttered, looking down at the ground, “You’ve done nothing wrong.  I’m just—”
“Liss,” he urged, hoping that she would finally open up to him, give him some clue as to why she kept pushing him away and erecting walls between them that had never been there before.
“Nate,” she whispered, a single tear falling from her lashes and rolling down her cheek.
Without thinking he reached forward to wipe it away with his thumb, allowing his hand to linger on her cheek.  Her gaze softened at the touch, and for a moment he thought her defenses might falter, that she might let him in.  She brought her hand up to cover his, briefly allowing her eyes to flutter closed.  When she opened them again, there was steel in her expression and she grabbed his hand, gently pulling it away from her face.  With that, he withdrew his hand completely and stared back at her in disbelief, jaw clenched.
“Talk to me,” he pleaded, voice hushed, “Please.”
“I can’t… do this right now.” She shook her head frantically, emotions barely held beneath the surface. “I’m sorry.”
“This is not something you can run from and hope it disappears, Liss,” he replied tersely, his frustration getting the better of him, “You can’t keep avoiding me.”
“I’m going to get some air,” she snapped, indignant and completely ignoring his remarks, “We can prepare for our journey after I come back.
“Liss, wait—”
“I’ll talk to you later, Nate,” she interrupted as she turned to walk away toward the front door.
They had done this dance too many times for him to be taken aback or even confused.  No, the only thing he felt at the moment was exhausted.  Countless times since they’d returned, he’d tried to get her to discuss how she was feeling, or to at least listen to how he felt, but she’d consistently found excuses or other ways to escape an actual conversation.  It was ridiculous and immature, and he was at a complete and utter loss.  
Ego bruised and chest aching, he made his way over to the bench along a nearby wall and sank down, resting his elbows on his knees as his face dropped into the palms of his hands.   What was he to do next except give her space and hope that things would be sorted out with time?
His ruminations were cut short as his ears caught the distinct shuffle of footsteps that slowed to a stop as they neared him and a hushed murmur of women’s voices.  He could not make out what they were saying, but the voices were familiar, and it was obvious they were attempting discretion and failing miserably.
“You two are not subtle,” he said with a sigh as he looked up to see the elf and dwarf blinking at him sympathetically, a look that had become all too common since he’d returned from Highever.  Did people sincerely believe him to be so pitiable?  His friends, especially, should have known better.
Velanna glanced between Nathaniel and the empty space beside him on the bench, brow furrowing slightly as she asked, “May I?”
“Be my guest,” he replied motioning to the seat, then letting his head fall to his hands again briefly before sitting up straight and watching as she sat down beside him.  Sigrun remained standing, but moved to lean against the wall.
Nathaniel glanced from one to the other several times, noting their heavy silence and persevering looks of pity.  He settled on Velanna, whose pinched expression he presently found the most irritating and asked, “Is there something you wished of me? Or do you intend to continue staring at me as if I were a lost puppy?”
“We are not—” Velanna began to retort, words echoing off the walls.  She sighed and continued more quietly, “We are simply concerned for you.”
“There is no reason to be concerned for me,” Nathaniel protested, “I am fine.”
“Hah,” Sigrun interjected, laughing, “You don’t think we’re going to buy that, do you?”
“You don’t have to,” he retorted sarcastically, turning to face his other friend, “I am offering it to you for free.”
“Come on, Nate.  We’re your friends, and we know better,” she pressed, “Besides, with the way you’ve been moping about the Keep these past two weeks, there are lost puppies I feel less sorry for.”
He bristled at her words, muscles tensing as he clenched his fists.  Just as he was about to snap, Velanna’s hand fell on his shoulder and his gaze darted back to her instead.  
“ Lethallin ,” she said firmly, a word from her own language.  She’d once told him it was a term of endearment for her People, one used to signify the closeness between friends.  He relaxed slightly, and she withdrew her hand to rest on her lap. “Was it not you who once told me I needed to stop viewing every expression of sympathy as a personal attack.?”
“That does sound like something I would say.” Nathaniel shook his head, snorted out a laugh, and slouched forward.  “I can’t say I expected that to come back and bite me in the arse.”  
It was silent for several beats, then he continued, apologizing for what seemed like the thousandth time in just an hour or so.  “I am sorry, truly. Everyone is so concerned about me, and I know that I should be appreciative, but... if I am being completely honest, it’s humiliating.”
“That is…” Velanna said, “Understandable.”
Sigrun nodded her agreement. “Definitely.”
“I—” he began to speak again, but was interrupted by the loud bang of a door slamming back against the wall.  Several scouts and pages gasped in surprise at the form that entered the hall, battle axe slung effortlessly over his shoulder.  “Nevermind,” Nathaniel muttered quickly.
“Never fear, Ol’ Oghren’s back and better than ever,” Oghren shouted at the far end of the hall as the door slammed closed behind him.  He appeared to scan the room, perking up when his gaze met Nathaniel’s, and immediately sauntering over to the bench.
Velanna sighed and rolled her eyes as Sigrun straightened up to wave and greet him.“Hey Oghren!  How’s the family?”
The dwarf had been away for just over a month visiting with Felsi, and their brood.  Ever since the turmoil in Amaranthine had ended, and most of the resulting mess cleared up, he’d been taking intermittent leave to be a more present husband and father.  He was certainly rough around every edge, but he was trying to be better, and that was admirable.
“Oh you know, same ol’, same ol’,” he answered jovially, stopping as he stood just a few feet away from the rest of them.  He brought one hand up and stroked his elaborately-plaited auburn beard proudly. “Felsi’s expectin’ again.”
“Maker’s Blood, man! Are you intending to father a legion?” Nathaniel exclaimed with a laugh that was cut short by a sudden realization.  He squinted at Oghren and continued, “Wait. Congratulations and all, but... how is that even possible?”
Oghren shrugged. “Beats the shit out of me. The Commander told me Grey Wardens weren’t s’posed to be able to… y’know...”
His words trailed off into a low chuckle and he waggled his eyebrows, eliciting a groan of disgust from Velanna.  At the same time, a mischievous smirk crossed Sigrun’s face and she tilted her head, crossed her arms and said with faux innocence, “No, Oghren, I actually don’t think we know.”
“Do not encourage him, lethallan ,” Velanna scolded, standing up as if preparing to escape.
To Nathaniel’s surprise, Oghren ignored the opportunity to pop off with an inappropriate joke, and instead looked at him, a hint of a genuine smile sparkling in his eyes, but hidden beneath his beard. “So, Howe, I figure congratulations are in order for you too, eh?”
Nathaniel stiffened, heart sinking like lead into his abdomen.  He shook his head and let out a laugh that was more bitter than he had hoped.  “No.  No that won’t be necessary.”
“Wait… what?” Oghren scowled and examined Nathaniel for a moment before protesting. “Don’t tell me you changed your mind?  Didn’t take you to be a chickenshit.”
“I didn’t.” Nathaniel stood up abruptly at the words, startling the others. “And I’m not.”
“Shit, I—”
“I’d prefer not to talk about it.”
“Nate,” Sigrun said gently, grabbing his arm.
He shrugged her off and stepped away. “I should go prepare for my trip to Kirkwall.”
“Nathaniel,” Velanna urged him, “Wait.”
“Thank you for talking with me,” he said flatly, glancing between Velanna and Sigrun, then over to Oghren, “It is good to have you back, my friend.”
“Yeah… sure.”
With that, Nathaniel gave his friends a nod, and turned to make his way to the nearest stairwell, heart racing as he struggled to remain calm.  
“What crawled up his breeches,” he heard Oghren ask behind him.
Nathaniel did not linger to hear Velanna and Sigrun brief Oghren on the events that had transpired while he was away.  He did not need to be reminded.
47 notes · View notes
cherrychonk · 3 years
Text
Female Firebender Y/N and Lin The Transfer
Fic:
You wake up before the sun, just like your mother taught you. Always ready to take the Bullfrog by the horns, conquering the world with a big smile and a strong will full of determination. You had been in the city before, when you were younger. This used to be your motherland and now it was just a memory. That was all because your mother decided she didn't want to be part of it and moved you cross country to another city.
You wipe your eyes awake as you walk into your bathroom, turning on the hot water on the shower before getting in. The heat always woke you up, it was a relief on stressful days when you needed a break from everything. As you brushed your teeth you mentally prepared. You had heard things about the Chief of police, how she was strict and cold. How she was unforgiving and even cruel to her own subordinates. You sighed deeply, already missing your old teammates. You didn't have to take the job, this was your decision. Yet here you were, in an old apartment less than fifteen minutes from the station. Your new home.
Looking at the mirror you decide to take off all your facial piercings. Not many you thought, well… yes they were a few. You had one eyebrow, nose ring and septum, tongue and two snake bites. That was definitely not going to fly with your new boss like it did back home. Your body was covered with tattoos, mostly colorful animals or weapons and a few doodles you got that were drawn by your friends. The huge dragon on your back was something but you were smart when it came to placements, never where a turtleneck and long pants can't hide.
So you got dressed in your new uniform, and went out the door. You hated cooking breakfast, but waking early had it's advantages. There was always a cafe open at the crack of dawn, you just needed to find it.
__________
7:30 am half an hour before my shift
“Officer Y/N Y/L/N welcome to the Republic City Police Department!” A young chirpy blonde woman greeted me at the front desk.
I smiled back. “Hi Miss…” I waited for a few seconds for her to say her name.
“Jia, I'm officer Jia.” The smile never left her face, though I finally noticed the bags under her blue eyes.
“It's an honor officer Jia. I see you already know me?”
She chuckled. “I’m in charge of greeting the newbies and today that is you! I'm going to give you some documents that you're going to fill for the Chief. When you're done, notify the officer nearest to you and they will take it to her.” The woman said as she gave me the biggest fattest pile of documents I've ever seen.
I groaned immediately as the documents fell in my arms. “Thanks?” I kept my smile though inside I was hating the introduction.
“Follow the elevator and your floor will be the top one, detective Mako will take you to your assigned desk. Welcome to your new family.”
“Well thank you, next time I'll be sure to bring you coffee as a thanks for your kindness.” I wink.
The woman blushed and waved her hands. “No need! It was my pleasure, but if you do. I like mine with cream and extra sugar.”
I nod walking towards the elevator. I'm feeling pretty good already. Maybe things will turn out great after all.
The door dings and I'm out. A young male officer with distinctive spiky eyebrows barely greets me before he's ushering me to my new desk.
“I'm detective Mako, if you need anything I'm right next to you. You'll be assigned an officer to team with you, that's the chief’s job so you'll have to wait. Once you're done with the paperwork you tell me.”
He speaks so blandly and uninterested, like he's annoyed I'm there. Well sorry pal but now I'm going to do absolutely everything in my power to stay just to inconvenience you.
“Also, don't be an idiot and try to go straight to the chief. Everything you have to do or say has to go through me first. Got it?”
“Yes sir.” I answer with a smirk.
He frowns. “And wipe that smirk off your face.”
“Wouldn't you like to wipe it yourself?” I snapped back without even hesitating.
His face turns red, I don't know if it's from anger or embarrassment but he starts to go over to his desk.
“Strike one Y/N!”
I smile as I sit back at my new workplace. Man this place be dusty as hell. After wiping the desk a bit and organizing my stuff I start doing the long block of paperwork. Half an hour passes as I'm surprisingly near finished with the documents. My eyes catch something metal and shiny.
A woman in metal armor, her grey hair in a clean bun. Two vertical scars line her pale face like a warning sign not to fuck with her as her cheek bones stand prominent making her even more intimidating. Her green eyes connect with mine and I want to die on the spot. I can feel my stupid face burning as I snapped back to my paperwork.
“Y/N my office now.” Her voice commands.
fuck- I'm fucking dead. I can't even speak out of embarrassment. I just stand up grabbing the paperwork and follow her like a kid caught painting on the walls.
“Good morning Chief Beifong-” I salute. Her only response was the door to her office slamming shut and the noise outside it continuing like nothing.
She extends her hand and without a second thought I grab it. Huge mistake. She stares at me irritated and pissed, I can feel my hand start to sweat just from her stare. Soft. That's what I thought I said in my mind, turns out I said it pretty much out loud to her face. Her hand snapped away from mine in an instant. Her face is completely enraged and red. Aw shit-
“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!” She yells.
I wince at the sudden volume. “CHIEF YOU EXTENDED YOUR HAND-” I responded quickly, holding tightly to the papers.
“THE DOCUMENTS YOU IDIOT!” She interrupted as she snatched them from my hands.
I just want the earth to open up and swallow me whole right now. She briefly inspects the documents, her brows are furrowed in concentration.
“What was your division back in Ba Sing Se?” She asked strictly.
“Undercover and special forces, Chief” I was staring straight ahead, not daring to look her in the eyes.
She scanned the next document and her eyebrows furrowed a bit and I can feel my heart rate pick up again. “Not bad, not remarkable either.”
I relax, my legs can finally breathe from the tension.
“We have a few rules we do- LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M TALKING Y/N.”
I snapped my eyes to hers. Ma'am you're making me so uncomfortable please just kill me fast and stop torturing me.
“Like I was saying. We have a few rules, they are simple but they keep us safe. One, don't do any work you aren't supposed to. Two, you don't do things without informing me first, even if it has to do with the avatar. Three and the most important-”
She leans closer and points to the door that’s behind me. “You don't ever burst through that door without knocking and WAITING for my permission unless Vatu is outside terrorizing the goddamn city. You got that?”
“Yes ma'am.”
She raises an eyebrow.
“Y-Yes Chief!” I correct.
“Good. Now-” She sits back at her chair, with a flick of the wrist the door opens. “Get the hell out of my office.”
Don't have to tell me twice. I'm walking back to my desk and can feel eyes following me. My cheeks feel red and I'm utterly embarrassed. Not the best first day on the job.
25 notes · View notes
mx-julien · 3 years
Text
an incredibly meta and ridiculously unfair biased take on pixane
some quick notes before we begin (or scroll past if you just want the meta)
i'm not going to post things like this more than once a year so this is one of very few times
i was a literal elementary-schooler when the first episode of Rebooted came out and 95% of my frustration comes from the meta behind their relationship not the relationship itself. i am very aware that this is an unfair take on their relationship. i'm older now and also entirly aware that this is a ship of fictional characters.
so if you didn't realize already, this is going to be mostly negative, so read at your own discretion
ok so like i said ~i was an elementary-schooler~, Zane was my favorite, and one of the many things that little me liked was that he's not a dating-crazy character because even at that age i hated rushed romantic plots Just Because wow, laurance, could you get any more demiromantic writer geek if you tried. also he's a robot and he's different BUT that just means he's accomodated and that doesn't mean he's held in any different regard which warmed my neurodivergent heart then and still does now.
are the "are we compatible now", 'we understand each other better because we're actually fundamentally similar in ways that we haven't been able to relate to others before', and 'half of my heart' storylines adorable and sweet? yes! does it still bother me that they pulled a "they're both robots <3" thing? yup, but not every show wants to address human/robot so it's fair.
but i remember feeling so hurt that they just made Zane suddenly enraptured with a character that was just used as an Attractive Life In Danger for literally the entire season [ref: turning evil and needing to be saved, needing a new power source, not being able to leave the building for the first few episodes]. it felt very ooc for him to be that taken with her by just having looked at and met her and the more lowkey thing they have going on now just fits, in my opinion, so much better.
it's another sore spot for me because they also did that Bad Love Triangle thing with Nya, Jay, and Cole in the same season, so i didn't like that two of the characters i related to the most suddenly had romantic subplots that weren't actually at all good or necessary. it also ruined the friendly antagonism between Jay and Cole by making it seem to have actual animosity, setting up their dumb feud that continues until skybound. in the process it turned Nya into an object to be won and passed around (which is called objectification, folks) instead of her kickass actual person self.
back to pixane: i was especially mad that they not only introduced another female character who was immediately turned into a damsel in distress, but she was then ignored and even got her body taken away after one (1) season. something i still believe is that pixal and Zane deserve a more nuanced relationship beginning than what we got in s3.
it actually wasn't even until late 2019 (when i drifted back into the nj orbit and saw how big the fandom had become on tumblr after people who saw 2017 movie watched the tv show) that i properly appreciated Pixal and fell in love with her and her place in the team.
also i think that it's absolutely hilarious how they try to do the "oh but he actually cares about her safety" thing [ref: Skybound, Prime Empire] as like a Dating Indicator but it just BACKFIRES because Zane's like that with literally everyone [ref: sacrifices himself for everyone in Rebooted, everyone yet again when he goes into Bernie's stomach, Wu in Secrets of Forebidden Spinjitzu] EXCEPT for Cole in Oni and the Dragon and Snake Jaguar (hey i remembered the episode names :) !), which sets him apart from everyone else and that, combined with their back and forth on screen kind of hints at a relationship more than anything else they try to do with the other couples.
hello yes back to pixane: most of their interactions to me (because, like eveyone else, i just ignore parts of rebooted that don't have Sensei G or Borg) like Ninjago Confidential, most of her time in his head, and the majority of her remarks during Seabound scream brother-sister to me. literally that's what my older sister's like: amused [ref: Ninjago Confidential and Seabound when Pixal just goes along with Zane's weird voice antics], knows better than you so she gives you a hard time about it [ref: most of the time she's in his head! there are so many so just go rewatch seasons like 4 through 7 i think], and you'll miss her if you don't hear from her for a few weeks or so because she's just that great [ref: Secrets of Forebidden Spinjitzu when Zane's stuck in the Never-Realm and starts missing Pix]. it's just really strange to see that then turned into a 'this is how you know they're romantically entangled!' kind of thing.
as a side note though: they do all of this to show that they're in a relationship because, and this is my very biased cynic speaking, there's no actual casual pixane interactions or chemistry yet with the exception of like two seabound scenes and then when Pixal leaves Zane's head, she's entirely justified and it's her right to and he's understanding but she does just LEAVE. if you're in a relationship with someone, that's pretty negligent. that person will absolutely worry about your absence and you know it. she could have left a message or directions or anything because god knows Zane would've supported her but instead she leaves without a trace. worse yet, he trusts her so much he just thinks that she goes offline even though logic doesn't really support the idea. which is, i would like to clarify BAD WRITING, not a bad character. there is nothing in her character that supports her doing this but oh well they did it anyways and it just adds another layer to their Poor Portrayal of Pixane.
let's review! the writers were so bad at writing this pair in a healthy relationship with equal footing that they ended up making a seemingly sibling-like relationship. in the process, they ignored Pix and bent her into whatever they needed, sometimes making her do very ooc things just for the plot that often ended up showing her relationship with Zane as kind of problematic and weird in terms of what we know about their characters.
also they've rewritten Pix so many different times that i feel like tethering her to Zane doesn't allow them to really give her justice. same to him, actually. how about we remember when he sacrificed himself or when Pix's inventions saved everyone? oh, i'm sorry, let me clarify which time i'm referring to
tl;dr i was a kid who related to Zane and liked strong female characters and rebooted did none of that while doing the robot+robot thing. then they did their relationship and pix's character dirty for a few seasons and so i just continued to ship glacier instead. the end.
woah, stuck by the whole time? kudos to you. thank you for reading my rant with many tangents on a ship i am slowly starting to be okay with in the show and have appreciated in the fandom for about two years now.
at the end of the day, fanon is fanon and for ninjago the canon is slowly improving. please, enjoy what makes you happy - ships are not mutually exclusive and love as many as you like.
i have hopes that they'll improve the characterization for Pixal and writing for pixane, but don't color me surprised if it takes a few more seasons. *raises a glass of sparking apple cider* here's to more years of improvement, or, at least, very memeable screenshots
26 notes · View notes
shaheenarnitipsyart · 3 years
Text
Follow your way
Tumblr media
Word Count: 1015
TW: mention of depression due to overwork 
This is 5th time joining @flashfictionfridayofficial​ ! Thanks for the interesting theme again! The name is not mentioned, but there is a character who appered in my previous work, too. (This a sort of prequel) 
Mira (he/him): a young gondolier 
Rufous (she/her)
Seiran (they/them)
A young gondolier sighed deeply. Rain again. His eyes followed the ripples and reflections of lanterns on the canal blank-mindedly. Rain meant fewer customers, and it was getting dark already. His boss passed by a few minutes ago, only to yell at him for not doing a good job. 'My boss might not give me anything to eat tonight.' He murmured to himself. He gazed at the surface of dark water, which was moving restlessly like a black snake. Whatever he said was swiped away by the breeze and faded into the darkness. Countless canals were flowing through the town like veins, and he had been working as a gondolier in the infamous area called the Old District. From sunrise to sunset, his small gondola tirelessly carried ragtag groups of people; poor travellers who couldn't afford the safer transportation, traders who preferred shortcuts, and of course, gangs.  The canal in the Old District was known for its extremely complicated route. It ran under the warehouses, forced its ways through the bushes, and squeezed between the cracks of the walls. Also, it diverged a lot, and many of them ended up at the dead-end. The gondoliers working in this area had to have the entire map in their heads. They were undoubtedly the most skilled gondoliers, yet their lives were not easy at all. Like Mira, his boss kept most of Mira's and other gondoliers' earnings by himself. Mira was carried away by daily life and eventually forgot why he came to the town. Occasionally, his heart yearned for something - something so familiar. But what was that? The lights and waves of laughter coming from the inns and bars irritated him a little. It was a pretty sight as the golden light from the windows danced on the water, and the lanterns hanging over the tiny old bridges made the raindrops shine like fine silver threads. But his heart sunk.
He was about to pack up, then suddenly heard footsteps coming toward him. 'Hey, we are lucky here, don't you think?' It was a rough voice, but you could feel warmth in that roughness. 'Your optimism won this time, after all.' Much calmer, a husky voice replied. Mira looked back and saw two figures, soaked in the evening rain. The taller one with broad shoulders approached him, and the slender one with indigo mantle followed. 'Yoo, yes, you. Can you take us to the outside of this stinky town?' The taller and louder one said. Mira wasn't surprised nor intimidated by her rough manner. Judging from her scarred face and sharp eyes, she could be a mercenary of some kind. It seemed like she was holding something under her brown mantle, too. Then, the other one with silver hair pushed her aside. 'Apologies for the ill-manner of Rufous. We must head to the place where the sea meets the river. Could you please take us there? We'll pay you handsomely.' Their voice was somewhat soothing. They could be good customers, after all, Mira thought. 'Alright. Now, hop on!'
To Mira's annoyance, Rufous gave the directions. Turn right, turn left, go under the warehouse ... I know this area far better than a stranger like you, he said to himself. To make things worse, both of them took out slender pipes and started smoking. The licorice-like smell filled the air. He usually hated the smell of tobacco, but this one was relaxing. Eventually, he realised that the scenery was different from what he remembered. The buildings around them were no longer dusty but smooth like marble. Orange too-bright lanterns were all gone, too. And the canal turned into a pitch-black path. The noises from the inns faded away, and only the gentle sound of rain remained. Eventually, the whisper of rain melted into the darkness.
  Then, the miracle happened.
  It was like a thin white veil fell gently from the sky and covered the sleeping world. Soft silver light touched the surface of the water, and dark waves turned into a silver web. Mira raised his head for the first time and saw the deep azure sky full of diamonds. He was caught in awe and even forgot to row. The gondola floated on the gleaming water gently, slowly pushed towards the open sea. Even Rufous fell silent, and tranquility embraced them. Mira was reminiscing about a tender voice calling his name. 'Mira, your name means ''wonderful.'' You have a sibling star in the sky, also called Mira. So when you feel lonely, look up at the sky and talk to your sibling star.' Oh, nobody calls me by my name these days. Who was that...? Mira's mind sunk into the ocean of memory. He was abruptly brought back to reality by a sudden noise and violent movement, which shook the old boat. 'What's going on!?' Rufous gave a big grin but said nothing. Then she pulled out an old bag under her mantle. The thing inside moved, desperately trying to get out. 'Easy, easy now. We'll let you out.' The silver-haired person whispered while carefully pulling down the bag. Mira held his breath. There was a small, lizard-like creature with wings.  Its scales were glistening under the soft light. 'A dragon....!? It can't be real!' The dragon cub looked around in confusion, but soon spread their wings and flew away towards the horizon without hesitation. Mira gazed at the sky until the dragon cub became a shining dot among the constellations. 'Dragons follow the starlight paths leading to their homeland by instinct. That poor little one hatched in the wrong place, but it should be fine by now.' Rufous said contentedly. She threw a small yet heavy bag to Mira. 'Here's your payment. You deserve it.' Then the silver-haired fellow looked at his face directly. 'You too, follow the path of stars, follow your way.' His chest somewhat felt tight. Mira held the small bag firmly.
Later, after parting from them, he opened the small bag. He found a solid amount of coins and a heavy compass, which would take him from his old world.
17 notes · View notes
greenninjagal-blog · 4 years
Note
15 for Anxceitmus pls - Anon 👽
I’ll be honest I’ve had a plan for this one for days but never enough time to sit down and write it. Now lets see how this goes :D
Summary: Virgil steals a taste of a cake that’s not his and ends up poisoned.
Words: 4360
Quick Taglist: @chelsvans @faithfulcat111 @felicianoromano @holliberries @jemthebookworm @killerfangirl3 @lunasfriendgabby @never-end1ng-suffering @silverflame-wc @stricken-with-clairvoyancy @thenaiads @treasureofpriam 
Read on Ao3 || My General Writing Masterlist || Prompt page
Piece of Cake
“I’m sorry, I know it hurts, but you have to trust me okay?” the voice says.
At least Virgil, thinks the voice says it. He can’t really tell over the noise in his head and burning fire in his lungs and screaming in the background of everything that was going on. He can’t even see really, based on the rush of white and black dots all over his vision like pin needles getting jabbed directly into his eyes as his throat shreds itself apart again and again and again.
He’s not sure what is happening, not sure when he hit the floor or how the world around him compressed into just him or why his entire body seems to be trying to rip itself apart with varying levels of success. 
He sure that it hurts. 
And that he hasn’t cried like this since he was kid and he fell and hit his head on the cobblestone fountain in the market and there was just...so much blood everywhere and he thought he was going to die back then.
It had just been a bit of icing.
And Virgil can still taste it on his lips between the blood and the salty tears and the vomit. The avocado taste that he hadn’t had since his mother had passed from the plague a decade prior.
The burning in his lungs is agony, like he jumped into the castle furnace and breathed in the cinders for fun. He strains his arms to tear at his chest where the boiling feeling seems to bleed from, but something is holding him down, and he screams, pleads, begs-- anything, just to make it stop. He’s sorry, he’s sorry, he won’t do it again, he swears--
It’s like a white-hot poker being driven between his ribs and twisting, like a dragon’s breath right before those sharpened foot long teeth snap him right in half, like his head had been tilted back and he’d swallowed lava.
He writhes against it, but something has his left arm and his right wrist and there’s a weight on his legs that keep him from moving despite the desperation in his motions. Every inhale moves the flames--and he can’t quite tell if they’re imaginary anymore, surely something imaginary wouldn’t couldn’t doesn’t hurt like this hurts so much so badly he’s sorry sosorrypleasejustmakeitstopplease---
Then, all at once, it’s over.
The fire reels back, flooded by a cold so icy it steals the rest of the breath he had. His limbs feel like lead and they drop to the floor of the kitchen. It’s also mercifully silent, which seems eerily impossible because the Castle is never silent ever. His vision swims like dunking in and out of the river back home when he went swimming with the older kids in the river. Far over head the gaping arches of the room fade in and out of clarity. The hollowness rings faintly in him, followed by an all-consuming exhaustion that peels away the rest of his thoughts.
“Virgil?” Someone says his name.
He almost recognizes them. He should probably recognize them.
There are faces over him, people he knows, but they’re too blurry to make out. All he wants is sleep suddenly. A deep dark long sleep.
“Let him sleep, your highness,” someone else says softer. “He’s okay now.”
 And then Virgil’s eyes close and he loses consciousness.
The unfortunate truth of the matter was that Virgil had no reason to be in the kitchen in the first place. He should have been mending that tapestry that the twin Princes had mangled in spontaneous duel last week, or adding the few last details to the new tunic Prince Remus had been instructed him to prepare, or fixing the tear in Prince Roman’s riding cloak, or simply catching up on sleep that he had missed while pressing himself to finish the new Birthday outfits for the Twins Ball at the end of the week.
But as it stood he had slipped from his crafting room to the kitchen in hopes that the Head of the Kitchen would take pity on him like he had done so many times before and offer him some scraps from the feast that was going on. 
Some noble had arrived in the early morning and the castle had been abuzz with energy as the King welcomed him. Virgil had already heard several rumors about it, just from lurking on the corner counter out of the way of the scurrying kitchen maids and the servant runners. 
“Something about him strikes me as odd,” Patton had admitted to him between cutting up strawberries, helping a maid balance a honey bun tray, and directing a newer servant boy on the proper way to refill a spare goblet. “I didn’t like the look he gave Prince Roman at all.”
And Virgil had snorted at that, swiping a glob of honey from the empty pan before it when to the stack of dirty dishes. “You don’t like any way anyone looks at Prince Roman.” He had pointed out sucking on his index finger.
Patton gave him a disapproving look but waved off his blatant theft. “I don’t know what you mean, kiddo-- Lower Terrance! If you keep trying to pour from that height there’s a chance you’ll miss and stain the table cloth-- I know that he’s an important noble, but the way he was looking at Roman was the way a butcher eyes a piece of meat before he cuts it.”
Virgil swallowed and eyed the cook carefully. “Well, how was he looking at Prince Remus?”
“He wasn’t.”
Virgil frowned, “Wasn’t? He ignored the second Prince?” Which seemed ridiculous on all fronts. First of all, Prince Remus was royalty, and no one ignores royalty, ever. Not even if its 3 A.M. and they send for you to discuss a different pattern for the tunic you were making for them and you barely have time to put on presentable clothes much less brush your hair. Secondly, Prince Remus was impossible to ignore even if you were trying to: between his gaudy outfits and the morning star he kept looped on his belt like a sword and his voice which echoed off the cement at all hours of the day, he stood out wherever he went. His auburn hair and green eyes made him quite the talk of the castle.
Patton wrung his dish cloth between his fingers before going back to slicing strawberries. “Well not at first. He bowed and present Remus a cake. After that Remus was too distracted to really notice anything else.”
Virgil had snuck a strawberry from the pile yet to be cut and pops it in his mouth, chews, swallows and then asks politely, “What about his consort?” 
“You mean Dee?” Patton slid a sliced strawberry to the side of the wooden board. Virgil had thought was entertaining that Patton had even asked. Roman didn’t take consorts, and Remus only had one: a man by the name of Dee who had the eyes like butter and a smile too soft. His hair flowed like a golden hay field, and his voice was like a fable siren’s. Virgil hadn’t heard him sing, but he couldn’t imagine that there had ever been an instance where he hadn’t been able to get what he wanted from someone.
Dee was pretty, but in a sense that it was too pretty to be real. Like a snake oil merchant come to sell wares to the naive populace. 
But Virgil was biased on all fronts: Dee had always been present when Virgil had need to take measurements of Prince Remus for his new tunic, and every time he’d been summoned after that, watching Virgil’s every move like a predator waiting for the perfect time to strike. Virgil’s hands had shaken so badly he had barely been able to read his own notes later, and even if he tried to tell himself it was the stress, he knew it was because of how delightfully attracted he was to two things that weren’t open for him to even dream about. So, he buried thoughts of Prince Remus’s muscles and of Dee’s breathy laughter and pretended that they didn’t keep him awake at night.
“Dee was impassive, you know,” Patton had said, drawing Virgil from his thoughts, “I’m never able to read him.”
“Not like I can read Prince Roman,” went unsaid, but Virgil could hear it under his words. 
“What kind of cake was it?” Virgil had asked instead, because he was a merciful friend and wasn’t about to bother a man about unrequited crushes while he was kick dirt over his own emotions.
Patton had wrinkled his nose. “Avocado! Can you believe it? I’ve never heard of an avocado cake before!”
Virgil blinked. He had glanced towards the end of the counter where the cake had been placed so elegantly. He had been eying it all night, letting his mouth water how good he imagined it might be, but knowing it was avocado? “My mom...she used to make those. They were my favorite.”
“Oh, I know that look,” Patton said, pointing his knife at him, “You know that cake is for the Prince. He already declared that no one but him is allowed to have it, Virge. Even if I wanted to slip you some, that would put both of our necks at risk.”
And Virgil knew that, he did. But it was a large cake. Surely, the Prince couldn’t eat it all by himself.
And frankly he knew enough about the royal family by now to know that absolutely no one else would eat a monstrosity like that. Prince Roman didn’t even like avocados to begin with and had loudly complained the last time Patton had tried sneaking it into a meal.
Was the man really going to miss if Virgil snags just swatch of the icing?
Patton lightly hit his hand. “Don’t,” He warned with that stern voice of his which revealed his years over Virgil. 
“I wasn’t!” Virgil lied.
“I’ll toss you out of my kitchen, Virgil.” Patton had told him. “Because I’d rather lose your company for the next few nights than have to watch you be run through for stealing from the crown.”
“It’s a cake.” Virgil whined.
Patton gave him another warning gaze and moved another strawberry around. He had been about to say something else, but at that moment Logan, the resident mage who always chose to stay scarce when there were visiting nobles about the halls, had chosen to flourish down the servant staircase which had appropriately distracted them both. Not that Virgil had been hoping for a distraction. 
But who was he to stare a gift horse in a mouth?
Logan had zeroed in on Patton, per usual, causing the cook to blush the same way he did around Prince Roman and Logan had mentioned something about a plant they were attempting to magically grow. Virgil hadn’t really been focusing on the words as much as the fact that Patton’s eyes stayed trained on Logan while he talked. 
Virgil had inched down the counter, placing a finger to his lips when Terrance noticed what he was doing. He reached out with on hand and flicked just enough of the icing that he’d get a taste, but not enough to disturb the overall look of the cake. In fact, Virgil was certain no one would even know he took some if they hadn’t seen anything. 
“Virgil!” Patton yelled just as he popped his finger in his mouth. 
Virgil had stiffened at the sound of his name and whirled back to face a very mad Patton and a surprised Logan. The taste of avocado had hit the back of his throat, which almost made him feel great: it tasted just as earthy as he remembered it being when his mother made it, with just the right bitter aftertaste  that made Virgil want more, although he didn’t remember it being quite so prominent--
“That was the Prince’s Cake!” Patton had shouted, “As in Prince Remus! I don’t care if you are in good graces with his highness! That was a stupid- stupid -stupid-- what on earth were you thinking? Virgil--!!”
And that was when Virgil had first felt the burning, like an itch in his throat that had suddenly swept him up. Patton’s voice had faded as he grabbed for his own throat, for his chest, for anything to remove the sudden agony ravaging his body. He had toppled straight off the counter in the middle of whatever else Patton had shouted, taking the cake right down with him.
Because that was just Virgil’s luck that he’d steal a lick of the second Prince’s cake and end up poisoned within an inch of his life.
And to be honest, the price for stealing from the crown in most cases is death, and since Virgil had been pretty sure he was going to die anyway he figures when he closes his eyes that was going to be the end. 
He wakes up, with someone carting their fingers through his hair the way his mother used to do, before she had gotten sick and died from that plague that had taken over half their village. His head feels like someone had stuffed cotton between his ears, his throat like someone had forced him to swallow swords. He’s warm, which was a strange concept: usually the servants’ quarters are cool, even in the summer and Virgil’s blankets are never quite been enough to stave off the tendrils of chill that seep into his cot. But here and now? Oh, he’s so warm and comfortable he never wants to move again.
“--want him killed!”
“I know you do, your highness.” Another voice says, a voice that’s closer and more comfortable, “But there’s much more to gain from keeping him alive.”
“That cake was intended for Me!” There is the sound of something shattering, something ceramic, and fancy, and expensive.
Virgil tries to shift, tries to open his eyes, but it’s just so...exhausting. The hand in his hair drags slightly, before restarting softly, more gently than before.
“It’s okay, Love,” the voice over him says softly. “I’ve got you. Go back to sleep.”
Something else crashes. And another. And another. 
There are more after that, but Virgil doesn’t remember them.
The next time he wakes, he’s more aware of where he is: he can feel the luxurious goose feather blanket draped over his chest, and how several of the loose feathers tickle his chin with each inhale, can feel the soft pads of fingers dancing through his hair in a way that make him want to relax and drift off again, can feel the coolness of a wet cloth on his forehead that wards off an overheating.
Its comfortable, its perfect.
But there’s never been a perfect thing in Virgil’s entire life.
He shifts, moaning with the effort to get his body to move after so long (?) of stiffness. He hadn’t realized that there had been people talking around him, until the conversation comes to a soft stop and the hand in his hair retracts slightly.
Virgil’s eyes open and he almost believes he’s still dreaming.
He knows where he is, even though he can’t believe it: he’d know the opulent bedframe and those darkened green curtains anywhere; he’d know those grey and silver blankets, and that room shape even if he should have fallen blind with everything else that had happened. He had been in that room far too many times for him to not have known.
He’s in the Second Prince’s room, lying in the second Prince’s bed, under the second Prince’s covers, and the Second Prince’s consort was sitting beside him with his hand in Virgil’s hair and another hold a book he seems to have been in the middle of reading.
“Oh,” Dee, the consort who was far too pretty to be anything other than trouble, says softly. “You’re awake.”
“He’s awake?” The sound of the Prince Remus startles Virgil, although it shouldn’t have. It only made sense that the owner of the room would also be in his own room.
What does not make sense is why that Virgil is there.
“Softly,” Dee says to the Prince without removing his eyes from where he’s staring down at Virgil with an expression that he doesn’t dare put an actual name to. The very idea of it makes the back of Virgil’s mouth sting.
Prince Remus had been across the room, perhaps staring out that large window which he did often while waiting for Virgil to respond to his summons, but he comes to the bed almost before Virgil can form another thought. Virgil tries to sit up, tries to move because this was the Prince and Virgil had already been caught stealing a taste from his cake and he was lucky they did just let him die--
Prince Remus puts a hand on Virgil’s shoulder and lightly shoves him back to the pillows, back to Dee’s side, back down. Whatever strength Virgil thinks he has disappears right out of his limbs.
There’s something strange about the Prince, Virgil notes squinting up at him. Not that there isn’t usually something strange about him; it seemed that every time Virgil was requested to his presence there was something just off about him. Virgil had thought it had been like a tease: something that would stick in his mind while he threaded his needles and cause him to shake his head with fondness. It had seemed that Remus had made a game out of it too, on the rare occasions where Virgil almost asked if he was cultivating some sort of joke, and the Prince had smirked at him and dared him to say something (which of course he never did, because Virgil quite likes his head where it’s attached to his neck, and the feel of Dee’s eyes on made him dangerously aware of his own standing).
But this sort of strangeness was not like the other times. It’s a calmness that encompasses the Prince, much like a still pond moments before a stone plunges into the depths. There’s no extra energy, no mischievous glints, smug crude joke. There’s just Prince Remus, and a seriousness that make Virgil fear for his life.
This is the Prince who could beat most of the military with nothing but his fist and his morning star. This is the Prince who could stare down an invading army and send them running home with just a single threat. This is the Prince who would challenge Death to a duel and make it out with his soul.
There’s a fresh cut across his cheek that hadn’t been there the last time Virgil had seen him, as if he had dodged a blade by mere inches and dismissed the attack as not nearly as worthy of his attention as Virgil somehow was.
“Why did you eat that cake?” Prince Remus asks.
“Re—” Dee says sharply.
The Prince holds up a hand at him, and Dee holds his tongue. “I want to know.”
Virgil suddenly feels like the blankets are constricting, tightening around his torso and his chest like a vice. His body shakes at the very idea of the cake. The mere thought of avocado makes his mouth violently taste like blood and his throat smolders with the threat of pain.
His hands go to his neck, to relive the pressure that’s not really there, but Dee is quicker. The consort catches both his wrists and pins them softly to Virgil’s abdomen with one hand and uses the other to rub tenderly rub Virgil’s cheek.
“It’s okay,” the consort says, in a soothing tone, that makes Virgil want to cry, “Shh, you’re okay now, Virgil.”
“I’m s-sorry,” Virgil chokes out, “S-sorry.”
Whatever the Prince is looking for, he doesn’t seem satisfied. He stands up again, fiercely shoving the bedframe. He takes three steps from the bed and then spins back around with a murderous expression.
“Sorry?” He shouts. “He’s sorry!” He slips his morning star from its hook on his belt and spins to swing it against the wall.
“Remus!” Dee interrupts.
“Shut up!” Prince Remus snarls right back. The sound of metal against the stone walls explodes throughout the room, causing Dee to tense up. Its violent and cold and Virgil hates it, hates that he caused it, hates that he doesn’t know why and he’s too afraid to ask.
Dee shifts like he wants to get up, wants to go to his prince and cup his face to ground him back to a reality before he does something he will regret, but in the end he stays right with Virgil. And Virgil is selfish enough that he’s thankful more than he’s guilty. The sunlight from the windows make the consort’s hair glitter gold and the black jewels around his neck that claim him as Prince Remus’s property glint harshly. His touch is far softer than Virgil would have expected, softer than the blankets, softer than a breeze on a warm summer’s day.
The prince swings four more times at the wall, deepening darkening cracks without the slightest care in the world. Then he takes his weapon and throws it across the room where it collides something else beyond Virgil’s line of vision before falling mercifully silent.
“Are you finished, your majesty?” Dee says in a tone that’s dangerous close to being chiding.
“I will be finished when I have that skamelar’s head at my feet!” Prince Remus says nastily. “That cake was intended for me!”
“I’m sorry,” Virgil whimpers again.
“And just what do you have to be sorry for?” Prince Remus turns on him, “Tell me, Virgil! If not for you, I would be dead from having boiled from the inside! Or maybe from having clawed my way right into my ribcage. Or maybe from having ripped my own throat apart? I’m sure that would have been a lovely sight for everyone to watch!”
Virgil’s heart clenches, and he doesn’t know what to say, what he should do. The back of his throat tastes like the inside of his stomach, like blood, and poison, and avocado. And the Second Prince is saying his name like it’s the most normal thing in the world, talking like Virgil had done it on purpose, sounding like Virgil had saved his life and that meant something more than fate intervening at the right moment.
Dee says, “We came so close to losing you, Virgil. It was a matter of luck that you survived. Logan said that if he had been any further away, if you had taken any bigger of a taste... you would not have stayed alive long enough for him to figure out the cure.”
They talk like it means something. Like Virgil’s life is worth something more than the tailoring services he supplies, like he can’t just be replaced with just a single royal announcement, like they think Virgil is….
“W-why?” Virgil trembles. “Why are you—"
Prince Remus kneels next to the bed, and his head dips slightly so that his black crown bows for Virgil.
“Did you really think that all these times I just wanted new clothes?” The Prince says so quietly Virgil’s breathe catches. “That I’m not capable of fixing my own holes in my trousers, or my cloaks, or that I truly cared if what I was wearing had rips in them at all? Before you came along Father had been threatening to take all of my weapons and lock me in a tower so I would stop going through fabrics so quickly.”
Dee’s fingers ghost over Virgil’s chin lightly. “And a three A.M. summons is surely the most normal thing for the royal tailor.” There’s a teasing smile on his lips, lips that Virgil thinks might be very nice against his. “Our prince was quite inconsolable when you appeared looking just as presentable as normal, Love.”
There’s something about the way he says words--“our prince”, “Love”--like they’re the most normal and natural things in the entire Kingdom.
“Don’t pretend like you haven’t spent night waxing poetry to me about what you want to do with him, Dee!” The prince commands.
“I have no clue what you are referring to, your highness,” Dee says with a red blush across his ears.
Prince Remus looks up at both of them, before leaning forward on the bed. Like a magnet, Dee moves towards him as well and meets him for a smiling kiss in right over Virgil.
He’s seen them kiss dozens of times: soft kisses, warm kisses, kisses so openly filled with love that Virgil feels like he’s intruding when he looks at them. They’ve kissed while Virgil had taken measurements, when he had been taking notes for the specific requests the Prince had for him, when Virgil had been leaving to go about his duties.
Virgil has never left apart of a kiss like this. His lips are on anyone’s and the only touch he has is where Dee was still holding his hands, which had turned into him lacing their fingers together in a mangled knot. Prince Remus reaches out and takes his other hand, and who is he to deny his prince?
He feels faint, float, not really. Surely, he was still dreaming; the last wisps of the poison having their fun with him. Surely, he was about to wake up and find himself not nearly this lucky.
“Don’t scare us like that again, Virgil,” Prince Remus says, breathlessly as he presses his forehead to Dee’s and squeezes Virgil’s hand, “Not before I have a chance to properly court you. I’ll bring you a barbarians head on a stake or something!”
Dee merely smiles down at him and says “Love.”
Virgil thinks that if he died, perhaps this wasn’t such a bad place to spend the rest of eternity.
1K notes · View notes
Text
For @taline
Prompt: A Wizard and His Pet Son
Ambrose had been bequeathed the egg by a stranger.
He had been walking among the forest when the stranger rooted him in his place. A tall, slender being in a rich black cloak, with pale hands holding something before him. The moonlight pooled into the forest and the stranger looked almost unreal, like liquid, flowing in the darkness. Their cloak spilled ink, their face soft morning dew. They appeared almost transparent.
They had whispered words unable to be heard by any mortal ear and the trees had shaken around them. Ambrose had run. Fast.
He had found the item on his kitchen table when he returned home. A deep red like spilled blood, with the faint smell of burning and a twinge of rancid flesh. Small enough, roughly the size of his tea pot, but he knew immediately far more dangerous, that is if a tea pot carries any danger at all really.
A dragons egg.
Over the coming years he raised the dragon himself, it was most certainly of European origin, it’s slender body painted with soft green scales, a few patches of yellow here and there. He named it Dóro, for he was a gift.
Dóro grew quickly, his powerful legs and wings pushing him higher and further with each day, but when people looked up to see him soaring gracefully above him, they did not think of the harsh, angry fire that fuelled a mutual hatred between their kinds, they thought of a soft fire, a living fire, the sort that danced and flickered in their fireplaces, or that children danced around at festivals. While he looked as deadly as any other dragon they had encountered, though that was few and far between as often little remained after such an encounter, yet they knew he would never harm them.
It was not long before war ravaged the land again and Ambrose had to keep Dóro hidden from the invading forces who would strike him down. When the militia appeared on his own doorstep demanding gold, he saw that there would be no point in fighting, so he obeyed. And each time they came again, he obeyed. He obeyed until he had little to spare and his body had grown frail from the scarcity of food. Then, he denied.
The leader of the guard hit him with the hilt of his weapon before binding his hands. Dóro was desperate to get to his master, his friend, but Ambrose had told him that the sky could be falling but you must stay hidden if they are near. So he stayed hidden.
When Ambrose returned, dóro was frantic. It had been nearly a month and he had not been able to help his friend.
“‘Tis ok, Dóro, the resistance freed us to stand up to the militia,” he stroked the dragons face lovingly, “I am OK.”
The war raged for another four years, before the invading forces retreated. It ended, as all things must.
Ambrose looked upon his splendid dragon one morning, a mere 23 years of age, a youngling. Dóro would live many a thousand years, but Ambrose peered down at his wrinkled hands and knew he would not, and that one day soon, he would have to leave Dóro.
Another decade passed and peace was restored for the moment, but Ambrose’s frame grew frail and his hair grew thin. He knew he had not much longer.
When Dóro curled around his bed that night, Ambrose took his face in his hands and said, softly, “my child, I will last little longer in this world, and when I’m gone, you will hold a debt over this place no longer and may be free. You may leave to your own kind, if that is what you wish.”
Dóro, had long since learned the tongue of the wizard, but death was not a concept with which he was familiar.
“Whaaat will haaapen too you?”
“I am afraid I am dying, my son.”
“Dyiing?” His low, snake like voice wobbled with confusion
“The end of my life has come. You may go free.”
The mighty dragon thought about this for a little while, but curled himself closer around the bed. They fell asleep softly with a fire flickering in the hearth, and the sound of owls singing outside. In the morning, Ambrose didn’t stir, but neither did Dóro. He stayed by his master until all that was left was dust and the building had fallen to nothing but ruin.
Legend says that Dóro still lies there, protecting the bones of his father.
(Hope you liked)
8 notes · View notes
bisexual-inuyasha · 3 years
Text
Xingese Gold
Prompts: pining/hands/nature. “Please just hate me already.”
Wrap your arms and hold me still
I don't wanna think about what I will
Speak in tones that I can't hear
And tell me how no one knows anything in here
-- Jade Bird “What Am I Here For”
A young boy with black hair and dark eyes sat in his mother’s field. His face was serious, mouth twisted into a frown. He was a very stern child, hair pulled severely back into a bun.
For most kids his age, the object of their concentration would be something colorful and loud. Or maybe even ants crawling along the dirt or the dried out carcass of a worm. For this child, scrawny and tired, it was the flowers. His fingers--nimble, gentle, fleeting like tiny birds--brushed over the golden strands. Petals remained safely caged behind spindly stamen. His pants were soaked at the knees, his bare feet covered in broken grass and mud. 
His mother had taught him about these flowers. It couldn’t have been more than a month ago, after a similar heavy bout of rains. The lesson came after the worst news in his young life. She had died only a few days later, protecting him from one of his brothers from another clan. Forty one siblings would be easier to kill than forty two. He’d written the name down in a book, tucked that book into his shirt, and watched his mother be buried in the only silk his clan could muster. It had not been a good season.
She had called these flowers Xingese gold. According to her, they were the only flowers of their kind in all the world. Other places had yellow, red and white. But only the Yao clan from Xing had golden spider lilies. They were proof, she’d said, that he was meant to ascend to the throne. Only the Emperor could wear gold, after all.
He glanced around the field and  rocked back on the balls of his feet to get a better look. When he was sure the coast was clear, he plucked a flower and tucked it into the middle pages.
The list of the names in the book grew longer as more and more clans fell to assassination attempts. His mother’s children, his half-siblings, resented and revered him as their downfall and their only possible salvation. For many years, he had no true friends.
And then Lan Fan found him, visiting the now overgrown field, plucking Xingese gold. And she swore, for the price of a single flower, she would protect him. Her hands were clean and her clothes neat when he took him to the humble house she lived in. Her grandfather’s face was hard. His lessons were harder. But his kindness reminded Ling of a childhood wrapped and buried in silk. And with the old man’s guidance, and Lan Fan’s friendship, Ling’s body hardened into a weapon.
His personality sharpened like a knife, quick and cutting and so unassuming.
But it was his instincts that set him apart. He lived with his finger on the pulse, twisting around the existence of others like a hesitant snake. Curious and fleeting, never lingering long, taking only what he needed.
And this is how Ling Yao became a teenager who crossed the desert, determined to find the key to immortality. 
**Amestris, before the end of the world.**
Ling lay on hot tiles, tapping his toes against the burning roof. He was waiting for the right time to drop through the open window. This golden haired alchemist was well known around this country for his search for the philosopher’s stone. The philosopher’s stone was well known for being the only alchemical way to achieve immortality. If Ling believed in fate, he’d almost think they were meant to find each other. 
That wouldn’t do right now.
Ed had all the cards. Every scrap of information Ling wanted existed behind those golden eyes. Whatever Ed didn’t know about the philosopher’s stone, he knew how to find. Ling sensed that maybe, this stone and Ed’s life, were intrinsically linked. Linked in a way far more certain than fate.
Al left the room. The metal man had taken to leaving when he could tell Ed needed to rest. It was less lonely for him to spend those hours exploring the city. Or at least that was the reason Al gave. But it didn’t take the dragon’s pulse to see that Edward Elric was thinning out.
Not physically. His body was fit as ever, though no taller for having increased his intake. But Edward himself seemed more and more distant. Al may be afraid of disappearing inside his armor, but Ed was disappearing into himself. The golden hair alchemist was becoming lost in a maze of problems and responsibilities that seemed to grow new walls and corridors every day. Ling had his own knots to untangle. He couldn’t help lead Edward out of his.
“I wasn’t sure I’d get the chance to talk with you.” Ling slid through the window, grinning. 
“You don’t have to do that, you know.” Ed’s metal arm was over his eyes. Ling had noticed he did this when he was too warm. The metal had to be cool against his skin.
“Do what? You can’t even see me.” Ling sidled down onto the couch. Ed’s bed was clear across the room. He could have sworn the set up was different when the boys had first settled into this room, but he wouldn’t complain. “Lan Fan and Fu want me to stay hidden for a couple of days, until Bradley loses interest.”
“What, did you get bored?” Ed snickered. “Or did they just run out of food?”
Ling patted his tummy forlornly. “Do you mean to say you have food? I do feel a little faint, now that you mention it.” He went limp, feigning unconsciousness. His stomach growled for good effect.
 Ed’s footsteps padded on the hardwood floors. The metal clunk of his foot was muffled by the sock he wore over it, but it was still an unusual gait. Distinct, and comforting. It had been a signal to Ling that he was safe, since Gluttony. Since he’d listened for those footsteps in the dark, and the blood. Ling opened his eyes and stared at the moonlit ceiling. Just the thought of Gluttony made him feel slimy. Filled his nose with the scent of blood. Suddenly his appetite was gone.
He still accepted the bowl of scallion chicken soup when Ed handed it to him and took a large spoonful. “Cold.”
“Yeah, well, that is what an icebox does.” Ed pulled his hand through his hair. “Still good though.” 
Ling took another large spoonful. His stomach clenched. He put the food down. He tried not to look revolted but Ed was watching him all the same. “Good, but maybe not what I’m hungry for tonight.” 
“Hm.” Ed tapped his fingers against his chair. His mouth was tense, body full of restless energy. He opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. “Do you ever think about how we’re just… kids?”
Ling waited for the horror to cross Ed’s face at what would usually be a difficult confession, but tonight seemed to be a night of honesty. 
“I haven’t been a kid since before I met Lan Fan. I don’t contemplate those kinds of things much any more.” Ling leaned forward to rest his chin on his hand. Ed was still in his black tanktop and work pants. He’d taken to sleeping in them more often than not. “What makes your mind so heavy today?”
Ed didn’t answer for a long moment. Outside, Ling could hear the never sleeping cars of Amestris trotting along the cobble streets. Ling followed the line where Ed’s hair met his jawline. It looked so different outside of the braid.
“I saw Al’s body. It’s just. So young.” Ed stood, pacing. Ling listened to the pad-thunk-scrape-pad-thunk of Ed’s steps. “We’re all so young. I can see it in the Colonel’s eyes when he gives me orders. I can feel it when Riza talks to me and there’s all this… this sorrow. Like she’s stealing something from me. Something I’ll never get back. And some part of me knows she’s right.”
Ling could taste the metallic stain of blood on his tongue. His fingernails still had some of Gluttony stuck in the beds. When he closed his eyes, he could still see Envy’s souls calling out to him, begging him to free them. “I’m tired, Ed. Have you been sleeping?” 
Ed’s eyes narrowed. His arms crossed. In a small, miffed voice he admitted that no, he hadn’t really been sleeping. “Don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
“You’re too young to be contemplating loss of youth.” Ling grinned. It was full of too many teeth. “Come on, lighten up Ed. You probably just need a nap.”
“I don’t want to nap. I just. Want to feel like I’m going somewhere.” Ed flopped back into his seat. Ling’s response seemed to have deflated him. “I’m just trying to get back to where I was before I lost Al’s body. But what do I do then? Most people spend this time figuring that out, but I’ve just determined I don’t want to stay a State Alchemist.”
“That’s a good start.” Link chuckled, and despite his best effort, it was not as lighthearted as he usually managed. “Being able to decide you don’t want to do something is a luxury some of us don’t have.”
This was an unusual visit. Since Ling and Ed’s day spent in the belly of Gluttony, Ling had gone to see Ed whenever the sun went down and the smell of blood filled his nose. Usually, Ed gave away his leftovers and they snarked back and forth at each other until Ling fell asleep on the couch. The next morning, Ling would sneak away through the window he snuck in from.
Ling’s chest felt tight. The room was too hot. He didn’t want to think about lost childhood, lost time. He didn’t want to think about fate and choosing his destiny. Ed’s problems weren’t his problems. Ed was upset he hadn’t been utilizing his time choosing what to do after he inevitably succeeded in his goal of finding Al’s body.
If Ling didn’t succeed in becoming emperor, all of his clan's people would die. And whoever became emperor could kill a lot more than that. His success depended on a goal so outlandish that most people dismissed it as a childish fantasy. Success meant a long life of being more responsible for more people than he could count in ten lifetimes. 
A heavy touch landed on his shoulder. Ed must have been talking to him, but he hadn’t heard anything at all. 
“Are you ok, Ling?” Ed’s earlier anxiety was replaced by worry. Now that Ling had been pulled out from his thoughts, he could feel Ed’s other hand on his knee. Anchors to the present. 
Ling smiled. He opened his mouth to assure Ed he was fine and maybe he’d take a nap since Ed wouldn’t, but Ed was already shaking his head.
“You don’t have to do that.” Ed let go of Ling’s shoulder and leaned back against the couch. He laid his head back, staring up at the window Ling came in. “I don’t have anyone I can actually talk to either, you know. Everyone expects something of me.”
“I expect something from you, too.” Ling leaned back beside Ed. Their shoulders bumped into each other on the couch, skin against skin. The smell of blood receded. Ling’s stomach growled again.
“No, you want something from me. That’s not the same as expecting something of me.”
Ling turned to look at the alchemist, surprised. “Explain.”
“Winry expects me to keep her and Al safe, to keep all my promises and then return home. Al, of course, expects me to get his body back. And I will. I want to. He should expect it of me. The Colonel and Hawkeye expect me to be an amazing alchemist, but they also expect me to be ok. Compared to all of that…” Ed sighed. “Compared to that, telling you about the philosopher’s stone is just a conversation. Just me telling you about Alchemy and my research.”
“So you’re saying you would have told me about the philosopher’s stone without me blowing up Gluttony’s head?”
Ed scoffed. “Don’t pretend you didn’t feel like a badass.”
“I was terrified. I'd like to see you stick your whole arm in that thing’s mouth.” They both laughed. Though truly, Ling was terrified of Gluttony. And Envy. All of the Homunculi who had too many souls. He thought Ed probably was, too.
“Well, you certainly looked confident. And fast, too. You’ll have to teach me some moves. Maybe I'll finally beat Al in a fight.”
They didn’t talk for so long that Ling drifted into sleep. His side pressed against Ed’s. Their legs touched hip to knee. Ling could feel the jutting edge of the automail through Ed’s jeans.  To his surprise, Ed’s head leaned into his, stirring him. Ling turned to see if Ed was asleep and was greeted with a face full of golden hair.
Ling moved carefully. Ed was fast asleep. He didn’t even seem to notice Ling’s arm move to circle around his shoulders. 
The memory of the dark, and the blood, and the souls crying out dimmed. Quieter, until Ling could almost convince himself those monsters had just been a bad dream. He ran his fingers through Ed’s hair and considered.
They’d grown closer, since their run in with Gluttony and the desperate run from Father’s base below Central. Since his introduction to Ling, both Envy and Wrath had been relentless in hunting him down. And still, he came here. Still, he waited out the nights with an anchor that told him the darkness was safe.
“You know, I’m going to use that stone eventually.” Ling kept his voice low. He didn’t actually want to confess anything to Ed. Not while the shorter man was sleeping so soundly. “No matter how it was made, I can’t let all my people die.”
Ed didn’t stir. Ling hummed. A thought twisted through his chest. “It would probably be better if you hated me now instead of later. But I just can’t bring myself to warn you. I’m a selfish, selfish man.”
Ling drifted off again eventually. It was hard to sleep on the couch without ending up awkwardly wrapped around Ed or falling off onto the hard wood.
When he woke in the morning, he was surprised to find Ed still leaning on his shoulder, fast asleep. The sun flooded the window and suddenly Ling was back in Xing, in his mother’s field. Strands of gold spilled between his fingertips.
“Xingese gold…” Ling murmured.
“What?” Ed yawned and sat up. “God, your breath stinks.”
Ling snorted. “You’re one to talk.”
Ling’s face burned. Every time he’d done this before, Ed had slept in his own bed. They’d come dangerously close to cuddling. With Ling’s increasing dependency on his visits with Ed, he wasn’t sure how to interpret the new developments. 
“What’s Xingese gold?” Ed stood and stretched. 
Ling smiled, remembering his mother sitting among the flowers. He pulled his book from his pocket. “I’ll show you.” 
The flower was faded and fragile. Ling didn’t dare move the flower off the paper. “Only my clan in Xing can grow this specific shade. My mother called it Xingese gold.”
“That’s… random.” Ed shrugged. 
“Just a dream, that’s all.” Ling stretched his grin wide again. “Though, your hair is the exact same shade.”
Ed’s cheeks tinged pink. “Hey, about last night…”
“No one has to know Edward Elric thought I looked cool when I fought the homunculus.” Ling patted Ed’s head, a motion he knew the short alchemist would hate. Ed fumed, but didn’t shout like Ling expected.
“Just so you know, Ling. If you accept that stone, I’ll fight it out of you.” Ed turned, picking up a new set of clothes for the day. “And if it kills you, it won’t make it to Xing to rule with your body.”
The anxiety in Ling’s chest burst. Fear, anger, worry splashed around his insides, coating his thoughts with an existential dread. Ed had heard him last night. Had heard him and rejected hating him.
Ling climbed into the window. 
Edward didn’t look back to see him leave.
Besides, no matter how Ling felt about what Ed had said, they both knew he’d be back when the darkness came.
13 notes · View notes
asunshinepuff · 3 years
Text
Secrets of the Darkened Seas
Tumblr media
🧜🏻‍♀️ Hello! Welcome to chapter five! Please please please give a like and follow to my co-author and best friend Luna ( @epithymiahua ) because this story would not be where it’s at without her help! She’s incredible and deserves so much credit for working on this alongside me cause she works so hard. And I feel horrible that she isn’t getting the credit deserves. Just a small reminder that the next chapter will be posted on Luna’s blog! 
This chapter features a mention of poisoning, it’s quite brief and only about paragraph but nonetheless here’s your warning. Also, if you have any questions about swords and the reasoning behind Min-Jun’s sword having a name, feel free to ask Luna on her blog, she is great at explaining the lore behind it all and very patient to help you understand. 
As always, a reminder that there is some lore included within this, however, it will be explained over time so no worries. There are very subtle mentions of lore within the previous chapters so perhaps read back and see if you can catch it. 
Under the guise of Fantastic Nautical Creatures by Newt Scamander, the included lore on different types of merfolk will as always, be taken from the book “The Secret World of Mermaids” by Francine Rose. We will not take credit for its writing. It’s a childhood book of mine that I adore dearly and sincerely think you should all check out!
Also! Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list so that you don’t miss a new chapter! Anyways, that’s about it. I hope you enjoy!
If you’ve missed any chapters here’s the link to the masterlist for this story Secrets of the Darkened Seas 🧜🏻‍♀️
.
Chapter 5: The Sea Serpent’s Venom
Everything happened in a span of mere seconds. Regulus and Tadase both woke up in fear, the crew claimed their weapons, the boys were pulled away by Opal and hidden away, Remus drew his sword, Sirius’ sword clanged against his, and the invading pirates boarded the Dragon’s Pearl. 
Remus glared at the offending man, he stepped back when other pirates began to draw closer. One of the pirates stood next to Sirius Black. He was lean and tall, he wore round spectacles, light skin, the most unruly black hair Remus had ever seen, and a sword at the ready. 
Remus blocked the first to his head, retaliating by swinging his sword. The pirate in spectacles charged at Quinn, who only smirked in response. Easily dancing around the younger pirate, disarming him rather quickly by grabbing the spectacles of the pirate. The man yelled out in surprise, shouting at the unfairness of it all. 
Another pirate, this time a woman with bright green eyes and fiery red hair, charged after Opal. Having just joined the fray, she quickly blocked a blow to her side. She was not amused, nor did she want to deal with practical children, minus Remus of course, trying to steal their ship.
“Where is he?!” Sirius snarled out, his sword pressed against Remus’.
“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” He snapped in return. Pushing his sword down against the Black.
“Don’t play coy, I know your captain kidnapped my brother!” Sirius pulled his sword free and twirled it with his wrist. “Kidnapped?! My captain practically saved him!” Remus widened his stance, putting the hilt of his sword to his chest.
Sirius didn’t even bother to respond to that, only frowning at the answer Remus gave him. He surged forward again, aiming for Remus’ torso. He blocked and began to advance while Sirius began to retreat to the stairs. He was heading for the Captain’s quarters. In a moment of quick thinking, Remus threw his sword. Sirius found himself pinned to the wall- Remus’ sword piercing his sleeve to the wood of the railing.
Sirius tugged his wrist, trying to pull free, he glared at Remus who only offered a smirk in return. His expression falters at the sight of a young lanky man with dusty blonde hair and grey eyes. The young man’s eyes darted around nervously, he quickly ran towards Sirius, handing the object in his arms to him. 
It was Min-Jun’s sword, the one with a dark green sheath with gold accents. Dú hǎi. Remus paled. The lanky boy had snuck into the Captain’s quarters. Sirius smirked, taking the hilt of the sword.
The crew of the Dragon’s Pearl paused, watching Sirius. With all of the attention on him, Sirius spoke. 
“I’ll be taking over this ship, unless you hand over Regulus Black. If you don’t, I’ll have the Dragon’s Pearl kill you all.” The crew merely looked at the Black in confusion.  
Sirius frowns, he lifts the sword up for the crew to see. “See this! This sword controls the ship, and I hold the sword.” 
Remus looked to Quinn, an intense desire to wring the young Black’s neck was clear upon his face. Quinn merely shook his head, sheathing his sword, and leaned against the railing. Remus only looked at Sirius as if he was watching a child wave a stick and calling it a magic wand.  
Sirius’ brows frowned further into frustration at the lack of a response from the crew, in anger, he pulls the sword from its sheath. Instantly dropping the sword, blood dripping to the deck. Sirius clutched his hand tightly, a tiny metallic gold snake with emerald eyes wrapped its body around Sirius’ wrist, its fangs piercing the skin. 
The metallic gold snake released its fangs, leaving two puncture holes, uncoiling its body, and it fell to the floor. Then slithered its way to the hilt of the sword where it fits perfectly to the deep grooves of the metal hilt that had appeared to have lost a large piece. The snake froze and became inanimate once more. Its emerald eyes shimmering. 
Sirius looked to Remus and Quinn. His vision began to fog up around the edges, his mind felt heavy. “What did you do to me? What is that sword?!”
“Us? We’ve done nothing.” Quinn replied with a shrug.
Remus sheathed his sword and walked forward. His expression was neutral as the crew began to drive out the remaining pirates who had grown in fear at the sight of the sword’s snake coming to life. “That sword, is called Dú hǎi.” 
Sirius fell to his knees, he looked up to Remus. “What the bloody hell does that have to do with anything?!” 
Remus remains passive. “Dú hǎi translates to Venomous Sea.” He crouched down next to the pirate. “You were bitten by the spirit of the sword, and now have its venom running in your veins.” 
The pirate glared at Remus. “Give me the antidote!” 
“I don’t have it, only the White Sea Serpent has it,” Remus answered calmly.  
Sirius froze, he had heard that title before. The White Sea Serpent was a man who had vanquished many pirates and had a magical sword that only served one master. “Who is he?! Where can I find him to give me the antidote!?” 
“He’s my captain,” Remus smirked. “Captain Min-Jun Hua. And I doubt he would give someone like you the antidote. He doesn’t take too kindly to trespassers on his ship.”  
Sirius struggled to keep his eyes open, his heart began to slow, he fell to his side. Quinn walked forward. 
“You got bitten by the White Sea Serpent mate. You’ll become legendary if you survive. Which you won’t since its venom is hell without the antidote.” He leans down to grin at the pirate. “You’d best start praying my captain returns soon, eh?”  
Sirius couldn’t respond, he fell unconscious. Quinn tsks, shaking his head. He stood, “Take him to the infirmary, make sure he stays alive long enough for Min-Jun to arrive.” 
The crew gets to work. Remus watches them drag Sirius away, his arms crossed. “Defeated by the captain’s sword when the captain was nowhere in sight. What a terrible way to die. He doesn’t even have the honor to die with the captain present. How tragic.” 
“Well, now you know how it looks in person. This is why no one has managed to take the ship.” Quinn adds, he grabs the fallen sword, speaking quietly to it. A small hiss answers in return, Quinn resheaths the sword.  
“I’ll go check on the children. They got quite the scare.” Remus offered. He personally wanted to make sure the children weren’t harmed during the fight. 
“Alright, try to get some sleep,” Quinn adds as he looks to the ship that was sailing away. “His own crew left him, not that I blame them. They wouldn’t even be able to help him.” Quinn turned to the infirmary. Dú hǎi in his hand. 
When Remus joined the children, Brielle had taken to hiding Regulus as well. She snarled when the cabin door opened, but stopped when she saw that it was Remus. 
“How are they?” Remus asked softly, kneeling on the ground. The mermaid had not spoken once, but it was clear she could understand them. The mermaid only communicated with Remus telepathically, but even then Remus still struggled to understand the complex mer language. 
Brielle simply looked to her right, the children were huddled under a blanket. She looked back to Remus, her eyes turning silver as she spoke to Remus telepathically.
Remus instantly raised his hands to try to stop her, his head shaking. “Alright, I understand. Please stop doing that, it feels so loud my head might burst.” He looks to Brielle who’s shoulders slumped. He sighs. “At least until I know about your language.” 
Brielle looks away, her hair falling over her shoulder. Remus turned his attention to the blanket, lifting it up a tad to peek at the children underneath. Two pairs of wide eyes stared back at him. Remus couldn’t help but smile. 
“Are you both alright?” The boys nod. Tadase crawls out from the blanket, curling up to the older mer’s side. Purring contentedly. Regulus crawled out as well, hesitantly watching the two mers interact, it looked like he wanted comfort too.  
Without warning, Remus pulled Regulus onto his lap, hugging him tightly. Regulus struggled to pull himself free, but gradually came to a stop. The child’s shoulders began to shake, before he began to sob. 
Remus only rubbed his back in an attempt to soothe him. A sigh leaving his lips, he was angry. Regulus had been so small and thin, he hadn’t spoken a single word for nearly all four days. Only flinching whenever someone mentioned the Blacks. What had they done to him?
“He feels abandoned.” Remus snapped his head up, eyes wide as he looked to the mermaid. She had spoken. In english!
Brielle looked undisturbed with her sudden ability to speak. She watched the boy closely. “I feel, loneliness from him. He feels abandoned.” 
Remus frowned. He wasn’t surprised. The Blacks all but unloved the frail boy in his arms. Regulus was neglected for so long, it must have felt like rejection and abandonment. Brielle tilts her head, the mer child in her arms has fallen asleep. Gently, she places Tadase down beside her. She turns to Remus, her arms stretched, reaching for Regulus. 
“I’ll sing. To help him sleep. No more nightmares.” 
Remus’ eyes widened in surprise. “Mermaid’s can be rid of nightmares?” 
Brielle nodded. “Mothers do, for their babies. I will do it for him.” She pulls the boy into her arms, her clawed hands were so gentle, it amazed Remus how such a fierce creature could become so gentle and tender to others. He had much to learn about his fellow mers it seemed. 
Once settled comfortably upon her lap, Brielle began to sing. And her lullaby soothed out the frown on his face, falling deep into sleep. Tadase curled closer to her. Her lullaby seemed to calm the rage within Remus’ own mind, and all the crew slept well for the first time in days. Even Sirius Black who was fighting for his life, the pain seemed to dull. 
Her song reached everyone aboard the Dragon’s Pearl.
.
Tag List: (Let me know if you wish to be added!)
@whataboutmyfries
@sunflowerfox87
@spookypotato
44 notes · View notes