#“Worrying after my friend” swordplay what's next

[mx-myth]

Do we ever know if fang duobing ever named his sword? Obviously li xiangyi (at the time) named his shaoshi and wenjing and di feisheng has his (as we all know) capital-d dao, but did xiaobao ever name his?

[dragons-clause]

The Dragon's Clause

Sabo x Fem Reader CW: Forced marriage, intrigue, character death, fantasy violence, blood, magic, language, smut, 18+ mdni

Tag List: @mfreedomstuff @manachiichan

Chapter 13: Bet

The next four weeks passed with far more speed than you had expected, but you and Sabo both were very busy. You’d moved from checking his work to assisting him with it, but that work had near to doubled with preparations for the engagement party, and subsequent wedding afterward. Added to that you had bridal lessons, dancing lessons, dress fittings, and all while honing your magic and swordplay skills.

There was hardly time to eat or address one another outside of time spent working together.

As far as working together, that was going well for both of you. At least as far as you could tell. Since you weren’t just checking Sabo’s work anymore, you had a few things that were entirely your responsibility. Koala would review things for both of you when she could, but the express time line had everyone busy.

“In a couple weeks we’ll start to receive guests.” Sabo says, after finishing up the last of his paperwork for the day. You nod, not looking away from what you’re focused on.

“Isn’t that a little early?”

“Decidedly.” He agrees, the smile in his voice floats into your ears and warms you. The mischievousness was a welcome emotion, and a good sign. “But it’ll avoid any interference from my parents. Especially for Ace and Luffy. The others will likely wait another week before arriving.”

“That explains why Koala and Hack have been so busy lately.”

“And you?” He questions, coming over and sitting down on the couch across from the desk you were working at. You look up and meet his gaze as he settles in, grateful for the smile that had been more and more relaxed over the last month. “You’ve been working more than all of us.”

“It’s hardly work.” You insist, looking back down to your paperwork before deciding you could safely be done with it for the day. “I enjoy… most of it.” You admit, coming around and sitting across from him, nothing more than the small tea table between you.

“The bridal lessons?” He prompts and you laugh.

“I said most of it.” You reiterate. “But no, it’s not that bad. It’s… I mean.” Clearing your throat lightly you look away from him. “It’s comfortable here. I find I rather like it.”

“Good.” He muses, leaning back and letting his neck and back crack against the sofa. Slowly but surely the etiquette between you both was easing up. The marks of ‘Lady’ and ‘Duke’ in his speech and yours had ebbed as your words had become more familiar.

The change had been noticed by both of you, you were certain. The Duke was entirely too observant to be unaware, and even if he was by some miracle, you had little doubt that Koala would be sure to point things out to him. She likely was doing so regardless.

“Despite the series of events that brought you here, I’m relieved that you’re finding it to be a good home.” He adds. You start to say something but a knock at the door interrupts your train of thought as Hack announces himself.

“Ah, you’re both done for the evening I see.” He muses, bringing in a tray of hot tea and light snacks. “I was worried I was going to need to pry you both from your desks again.”

“There’s a lot to be done,” Sabo insists as Hack sets out cups and pours you both something to drink. “Though, I daresay we seem to be making good progress.”

“Indeed, we should have sufficient man power to guide Prince Luffy with care while he’s here.” Hack agrees and you tilt your head at the statement.

“Guide?”

“Luffy is… unique.” Sabo says, the smile on his face belying his word choice. “Ace will be here to keep him in line, so it won’t be as bad as it could be, but it is best to keep an eye on him.”

“Perhaps he will be interested in making a new friend.” Hack offers as he and Sabo look toward you.

“This feels like a test of some kind.” You shift your focus between the two. “If the good Lady of Lulusia befriends the unique prince of a nation she has had no direct interaction with, perhaps she will earn a reward.” You smile as you speak, and make a show of slightly exaggerated etiquette as you lift your tea cup, so they know there’s no hostility in your words.

Hack keeps a straight face, and Sabo smiles. “… Perhaps. Is there a reward the Good Lady of Lulusia would like?”

Your facade breaks and you consider things for a moment. “A favor, I think.” You answer honestly, setting your cup down. “The degree of the favor can be left to match the degree of success.”

“Very prudent, my lady.” He muses. “Barring an utter failure, you will win yourself a favor regardless.”

“And sometimes what seems a disaster can be made into an opportunity.” You add. “I feel like I am being asked to guide a storm. If he levels the city that would be a loss, but if he levels some trees and the amount of farmland expands as needed, then what an opportunity that would be.”

Sabo and Hack exchange glances. “Are you certain you haven’t met the young prince already?” Hack questions and you nearly choke.

“No I was… I was exaggerating.” You stammer, concern settling into your muscles as neither one of them is reassuring you the young prince is not actually that destructive. “Oh.”

“If you would like to back out now…” Sabo prompts and you chuckle nervously.

“Ah, I should, but I won’t. I have to admit I’m more curious to meet him now.” You glance at Sabo and give him a bright smile once you catch his gaze. “Plus I’m already thinking what kind of favor I could ask of the kind Grand Duke if I manage any manner of success.”

You see him flinch before he lets out his own nervous chuckle. “I see.”

“Perhaps you could,” you pause a moment, considering your word choice. “Regale me with stories about the young prince? And the crown prince as well, I would prefer to avoid insulting either one while they’re here. Given they’re important guests.”

“In the face of a wager that’s already stacked against me, I don’t see why I should assist you further.” Sabo replies with a mischievous grin on his face.

“Well, you can tell me what you like, your grace, or I can tell Koala about our wager and I’m certain-.”

“Alright!” Sabo interrupts, concern far more blatant on his face than you imagine he wanted. Lowering his head he sighs and clutches his hand into a fist. “I surrender, Lady Lulusia. I’ll tell you about Ace and Luffy.”

Sabo began to speak of his time with Luffy and Ace. He spoke of a chance meeting during their childhood, and how he and Ace had hit it off but it had taken a moment for them to really accept Luffy. Not that Luffy gave them much choice in the matter.

He spoke of how Luffy seemed to make friends with everyone he met, and perhaps even more than that, friend was a title that fell a bit short of what bond was truly forged. Sabo admitted that there were treaties and inter-kingdom-deals that had lived or died based on Luffy, and he had no idea how far the depths of his declarations had gone.

But such was his manner, and so trustworthy were his decisions, that it was hard to ignore them.

Sabo had barely cleared their time at the academy when he was escorting you to your room, the evening having gotten too late for his stories to continue. You weren’t sure if knowing all of this was going to actually help you, but the expressions on the Duke’s face, and the tone in his voice, were such that you wished he could continue talking straight into the dawn.

“Ah, my apologies.” Sabo says, as you both reach the doors to your room. “That was, perhaps, a bit much to take in, in one go.” He admits, clearing his throat.

“Not at all,” you assure him. “It was a delight to hear you speak of your, er, brothers. Is it alright to call them that? I assume only when there aren’t others around.”

“They certainly won’t mind. Luffy doesn’t tend to mind regardless of who is or isn’t around, but Ace and I try to keep the other nobles from gossiping too much.” He clarifies.

“Noted.” You smile as Sabo opens the door to your room, and you hesitate for a second.

 You don’t want the evening to end, and not for the first time, you find yourself reluctant to retire. Working all the long hours lately was easy because you weren’t alone. But there was nothing you could say or do to prolong things at this point.

Rest was every bit as important as work, and he probably needed it even more than you.

“Thank you.” You say as you step into your room, giving him a brief glance and a smile. “I look forward to hearing even more tomorrow, your grace.”

“More?” His tone and brows raise in mock surprise. “I would have imagined the Good Lady Lulusia was tired of my voice by this point.” He teases.

As you begin to close the turn, you look up at him, smiling shyly as your gaze holds his for a little longer than before. “I cannot imagine tiring of hearing you speak.” You admit, watching pink dust his cheeks, and genuine surprise stutter his thoughts, before you have mercy on the both of you and close the door.

Leaning against the door, you stay still for several minutes until you finally hear the soft click of boots step away from your room. It feels safe to breathe, but you’re barely doing that, for fear of simply screaming due to the rush of oddly conflicting emotions roiling within you.

You flirted with the duke.

Putting your hands over your mouth you step away from the door. Eyes wide, your mind spinning far too quickly for you to keep up, you do your best to get ready for bed. It takes far longer than usual because your own mind keeps distracting you.

You flirted with the duke. You - just like that - you just went and complimented his voice. Beyond a simple compliment you basically implied you could listen to him talk for hours. That you would enjoy his words and time and attention and-.

You put both of your hands over your mouth again and dampen the embarrassed sound you couldn’t fully suppress. It was impossible for it to have been heard outside your room, but you had no idea how you were going to face him at breakfast.

Taking a deep breath you try for a third time to undo the bodice of your house dress, forcing yourself to focus on the simple laces. You didn’t need assistance getting dressed in the general daily wear of the estate, and so Koala wasn’t going to arrive to help.

Such was a small blessing at this point.

You absolutely did not want assistance from Koala right now. She would know. She would know the second she got a good look at your face and you’d never hear the end of it.

Even after you managed to get undressed and into your night clothes you paced in your room for nearly thirty more minutes. You’d been up all day. Sword practice, bridal lessons, and work in the evening. Despite all that you were wound entirely too tight to sleep. Pacing helped, however, and eventually even your legs began to ache from the hurried circles you were walking in your room.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you lay back, staring up at the canopy and at all of the beautiful and intricate details of the art work etched into the wood. Hack had explained them to you, the point of symbols and pictures, the history behind it, it was as rich as the work itself, but none of that was connecting with your brain right now.

You could barely even see any of it. Just him. His eyes. The shock on his face. The pink on his cheeks. The momentary pause between you both. If only you had said something more.

Done something more.

Letting your fingers slip across your lips, the ticklish shiver that dances against your skin makes you realize what you’d really wanted.

“I wanted to kiss him.” You murmur into the air.

Gods save you, you’re falling in love.

[reilliane]

Priority ✤ Aether

P r i o r i t y

A/N: My first piece for Aether... and it's angst. Hehe, I remember my first batch of ficlets. Ah, those were the days..

✤ she/her

Words: 1.1k

≿————-　❈　————-≾

"How long exactly are you going to torment yourself?"

You shift your look up from the outlander's back towards the figure that approached and situated to your left, taking up the spot of the damp rock that sat above the lake.

It isn't surprising that he didn't mind the faintly wet place, he preferred it over anything hot—which is a miracle since today's quite sunny, yet he chose to walk out of camp.

Chongyun throws his head back, icy eyes staring across the water onto a wooden dais where the traveler is practicing swordplay.

"I don't know what you're talking about..." he scoffs at your answer but didn't hold it against you.

He just can't seem to grasp his head around it, though.

"Don't be ridiculous, it is obvious that you like him."

You tense, but you didn't stray your gaze away from Aether, who with the aid of Xiangling, repositioned the training material you all had taken from the hilichurls after fending them off.

Instead of destroying those, the latter proposed to use it as their own equipment, which proved to be taxing having to carry it around, so you all settled to make a camp somewhere you can return to whenever visiting these lands.

"Why don't you just tell him? It's not like it's going to do something." commented the exorcist, garnering him a tiny, defeated sigh.

It's not like you don't want to, but you can't. Not when he's but a fleeting presence in Teyvat in search for his lost kin, and not when he's in the road to—undoubtedly—be dubbed as a hero in his wake.

Not when he clearly doesn't have time for petty fluffs of crushes and certainly not when he doesn't look at you the way you look at him.

Chongyun's face is as passive as ever, but you could tell that he wanted to say something, only he was held back off when Xiangling came to run towards the two of you with an invite to join them for sparring.

An odd situation to be put in, but it's obvious that it was something the members of the outlander's party enjoyed, and the bluenette won't be saying no, especially when he gets the chance to train.

He gives you a look, saying, "Will you join?" to which you shook your head.

Indifferent but the slightest bit concerned, he stands up from the rock and goes knee-length deep into the lake, making his way towards the platform with his claymore materializing by his back.

Aether passes him with an exhausted smile, and immediately the cryo-blessed exorcist whips his head to see your reaction.

Frankly enough, it didn't seem like you could care, but he knew deep down that you were faintly nervous—he knew you for a long time, after all.

But time doesn't define how much he knows you.

"Hey, what are you doing?" questioned the blond as he takes Chongyun's previous spot, his rancour vanishing into gold dust.

"I'm on cooking duty today," you answer, not looking in the eye, "I just finished them and haven't got anything to do so I'm just watching. So where are we planning to go next?"

Aether doesn't miss the emptiness in your [c] eyes, and instantaneously became aware of what it is—lost—since he too, was under it months ago before had met the lovely citizens of Mondstadt and many more people.

"We'll set foot towards Wangshu Inn."

All who fitted a place in his grateful yet desolated heart, appeased timidly, but lost still with the present fact of his missing twin.

He wonders what's gotten you so blue, however.

"Are you okay? You haven't been talking that much at all," he mumbles in concern.

He would've questioned your friend, but he's certain that he'll just receive a blank stare and a nonchalant 'ask-her-yourself'.

"I'm perfectly fine!" he jumps at your exclamation, buzzed, "Really—don't you worry about me." your attempt of shutting down his continuous fret is met with failure, a complete miscalculation on your part, you should've said something else.

So when his hand lays on your shoulder to take your attention with his soothing voice becoming a distant nightmare in your head occurs, the heart you so badly endeavored to freeze, melted.

Aether squeezes his clasp with an understanding smile the second you whisked your surprised stare towards him.

"You can tell me anything, you know that right? I know you have Chongyun to listen but—" he breathes in, "I want to help you out of whatever's troubling you, too."

You sucked in a sharp breath, withdrawing from his touch as if he's dangerous—and he is—like the coward, guarded person you are who respected where his priorities stand by, and of the bad, manipulative person you are, you parted to stand up hastily.

The water sloshes up around you as you take him by shock, his befuddled expression speaking of wonders as you gave him a tight smile.

"Thank you. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to collect some ingredients for later." when you move to walk away, however, he also springs up from his place to latch his fingers around your wrist, causing you to spin back around in fluster.

Aether's golden toffee optics are glossed over with desperate curiosity as he demands,

"Why are you so evasive of me nowadays, [Name]? Did I do something wrong to upset you? I'm sorry."

His speedy apology catches you off-guard, more so of his unrelenting clutch on your wrist.

Your heart thundered with an annoying kind of pain, confused whether to feel happy that he's so genuinely concerned about you, or nervous because he can still make you so weak.

When your lips part open to tell him something, though, you catch wind of his goals, remembering what he desired to do.

You remember your own situation, and your lips clamped back shut.

I wish I could tell you, Aether.

You shrug his hand away, ignoring the defeated expression on his face as you hardened your features with a false grin, saying, "I'm just thinking a lot to myself, nothing to fret over. I'll see you later!" you made sure to slip away quickly this time around, all whilst catching the confused frowns on Chongyun and Xiangling's visage.

You can't tell him because he has his own priorities to tend to.

Oh, how cruel are you to say that you respect his priorities? How much of a scum are you to like him?

A teen whose heart simply yearned to help, you turn down for what—for your feelings to be spared?

Pitiful, truly pitiful. And it only ever grew, your outlook on your unacceptable behavior, when you ducked in to one of the shrubberies near the ruins that lay about Mondstadt's eastward lands and an abyss mage floats in to welcome you.

"Tell her that he's about to search for one of the Geo Archon's prevailing Adepti."

But you can never like me back for this betrayal.

And you have your own.

≿————-　❈　————-≾

a/n: aiya- plot twist? aha, mc is working with the abyss. which means..? yes, she knows lumine. ah.. this has a sequel too, i'll get to publishing it soon!

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　Return to the Scrying Glass　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

≿————-　taglist　————-≾

@lehra @melkxsh

[vecnawrites]

Jaune had expected a lot for his own, Coming of age celebration and he wasn't disappointed, not by the food, quest and certainly not his presents. His own father had gotten him not one, but two slaves, for him and him alone, with the knowledge he would be undisturbed in his new chambers. Looking them over, they had everything; Perfect Dark Skin, Flowy green Hair, sexy See-through outfits and best of all, they were a mother and daughter Pair!

The Second Chapter of “Meeting The Mothers”! This one has an OC character, Esmeralda Sustrai, Emerald’s mother. I will have an art piece on my AO3 account of her when I cross-post. Don’t want to risk it getting flagged and this pulled.

Trigger Warning: Mentions of Slavery, Pleasure Slaves, Non-Descriptive Beatings (Nothing visible, but mentioned)

Jaune Arc, only son and Scion of the Noble House of Arc, was finally reaching his Coming of Age Celebration. He had been training from a young age to eventually take over the house and lead it to an even higher amount of greatness, learning a multitude of things, ranging from Swordplay, to Tactics, to Diplomacy. All of the family allies, Clan Ren, Nomad Tribe Valkyrie, Vassal Clan Zedong, and fellow Noble Family, the Warrior Family Nikos had come.

Their children were his closest friends, Lie Ren and Nora Valkyrie, who he was very sure would get “together-together” and bind their clans together, bringing the raw physical talent of the Valkyries and the guile and sneakiness of the Ren family.

May Zedong, one of his oldest and closest friends, large breasted and very timid but with a magnificent win record against their enemies. Her maroon locks covered her left eye, a scar from battle with a rival clan, the Branwen Tribe. She had lost it in a battle with Vernal, Raven Branwen’s second in command, but Vernal herself had lost far more, her life blood staining the Valean forest floor.

Next to her stood Pyrrha, his other closest friend, already a champion of gladiatorial combat and the strongest out of all of them in close quarters combat. He had no bitter feelings over that, none of them did. Pyrrha was a good friend, and just as human as the rest of them...even if she could beat all of them working together against her with ease.

The food was wonderful; the chefs of his family had gone out of their way to make sure that not only his favorites were there, but the favorites of his friends as well. It may have been his day, but he wanted them to enjoy it as well.

His presents had been grand, as well. A new set of Diplomatic robes for formal situations, some customized armor, both signifying his new station as upcoming head of house. His friends had given him great gifts as well.

Lie had given him a knife like one of his own, a wicked thing that was designed to slip through plates of armor to pierce skin. A fine groove along the blade led to the bolster where two minute holes were. It turned out that the butt of the handle unscrewed and liquid could be poured in, and with the depression of a small button underneath the finger guard, would flow out and coat the edge. A poison chamber. What one would expect from a family known for their assassins as much as their diplomats, really.

From Nora, he had received what looked like a shirt and pants, but he recognized the material. It was made out of Boarbatusk Leather, a very flexible, extremely durable, material that was highly resistant to cuts. He could tell from the make it was skintight and meant to go under his normal clothes. As he looked them over, he missed the bright cheeks of both Pyrrha and May, with Nora nudging them and winking.

From May, he had received a new custom sidearm, a heavy pistol that he knew was more was designed more around power, impact, and penetration than speed. He even saw on the grip their symbols, her Crosshairs and his Crescents, making him smile as he remembered them growing up together with the others, and all the trouble that they would get into.

From Pyrrha he received something similar, yet different. An arm bracer that expanded into a Xiphos Shield, much like her own, for when he used his sheath to turn Corcea Mors into a Broadsword. Etched into them were Pyrrha’s symbol of the Shield and Spear and the Arc Crescents.

As he was marveling over his gifts, he failed to see both Pyrrha and May being teased by not only Nora, but his sisters, both of them blushing brightly under the scrutiny.

The party continued well into the night, Jaune dancing with May, Pyrrha, Nora, and even Ren when Nora and his sister had shoved the two of them together as a joke, and the pair just went with it, much to the laughs and amusement of the others.

As the party wound down, and people began to retire to the guest bedrooms, his father gestured for him to follow. Jaune stood and began to follow, missing the saddened looks from Pyrrha and May, both knowing what was coming.

~x~x~x~x~

May and Pyrrha stared after the boy they had fallen for, had loved for years. They knew why his father was taking him away, and weren’t going to lie, it hurt knowing what was going to happen, what he was going to likely do.

Both turned as hands touched their shoulders. Seeing their mothers behind them, both with teasing smiles, the close friends felt heat creep up the back of their necks and into their cheeks at the knowing looks.

“No long faces, dears. You know that there is no competition, even if Jaune’s parents bought him a pair of slaves. They did the same for Alizaryn and Saphron, as well.” Athena Nikos murmured, patting her daughter’s cheek. Pyrrha tried to take comfort in those words, she truly did.

May, however, spoke what they were both feeling. Scowling off to the side, she muttered, “Yeah, but you have to remember, Saphron married and has a child with her slave...well, ex-slave now.” there was no heat in her tone. Terra Cotta, or Terra Cotta-Arc now, was the beloved wife of Saphron, the second child of the Arc clan, and everyone had been doting over the small baby boy that held a mix of Arc features and of Terra herself.

May squeaked as her mother thumped her gently on the forehead. “None of that, dear daughter. Focus on the fact that you still have a chance. Both of you do. Neither of you were taught to give up, why start now?”

Both May and Pyrrha felt a burst of renewed energy. That’s right, they had years on the two new servants. They’d get their husband! Though it might take a bit of work...Jaune hadn’t noticed their feelings yet, but they also knew that it was partially their own fault as well.

~x~x~x~x~

Jaune walked with his father down the hallways of their home, heading towards his new bedroom, one that he had received for becoming an adult of the family, rather than a child in an adult’s body. The walk was silent, making him wonder what was happening.

Finally, his father spoke. “Jaune, as you know, there is an extra present that all members of the Arc family get upon their Coming of Age.” he said, getting a nod from the younger male. It had been tradition that all children had gotten slaves/servants upon their coming of age. His father had; Maria Calavera had been with them since his father had reached eighteen. Alizaryn, his eldest sister had her own, Elm Ederne, a powerfully built woman who was a warrior through and through.

Saphron, his other eldest sister, had her own slave as well, a lovely young woman named Terra Cotta...or Terra Cotta-Arc now. His sister had fallen for and married the woman, and even asked for him to donate so they could have a child of their own. So, he was no stranger to sex.

“You know what you were taught.” Jaune nodded, he had been trained in how they handled their slaves and servants. Kindness rather than cruelty. Compassion and understanding rather than an iron fist. It was why even if the slaves were released, they hardly ever wanted to leave the Arc Family.

“These two...they came from a bad place, son.” Jaune felt a bit of dread pool within his belly at his father’s words. “But, we knew you would treat them right.” his father’s hand rested on his shoulder. The moment was serious, before the elder Arc smirked. “And don’t worry, Maria and the others set them up on contraceptives~” he teased, bursting out into raucous laughter at his son’s sputtering.

~x~x~x~x~

Two green haired woman knelt on the floor, clad only in gauzy material that didn’t cover anything. Well it did, but the material was so sheer it was completely sheer, meaning nothing was truly covered. They were quiet, both fearing and wondering what was to come.

Esmeralda Sustrai, the older of the pair, glanced to see her daughter, Emerald, sitting deathly still. She understood why. Both of them had been through several masters at this point, and been returned each time. She longed to comfort her child, but didn’t know whether or not they were being watched. And even then, could she comfort her daughter?

She had known nothing but slavery her entire life, just like her. It was fortunate for both of them that in order to return them, their previous masters couldn’t cause a lot of damage to them...meaning, they had been slapped around and bruised, but nothing permanently scarring.

As it was, Emerald had been nursing an incredible black eye and split lip from their previous mistress for ‘looking haughty towards her’ when the Arcs had come, looking for servants for their son. Esmeralda had practically thrown herself forwards, regardless of the fact she could be punished later for acting out. She had grown up, all slaves had grown up, knowing of the Arc Family. It was a family any of them hoped to be purchased by.

She found that the rumors and stories that the slaves told one another weren’t just that. The mother had been quite upset that someone laid a hand on them-even healing them with her semblance!-before looking at her husband and nodding. They had been purchased only minutes later.

It had been a whirlwind of activity afterwards, the other servants of the family welcoming them, taking them to the baths to be cleaned, then having their new ownership marks applied (hers still tingled lightly against her skin) and dressed in the gauzy silks and golden jewelry they now were adorned with.

Part of Esmeralda marveled at what they wore, no matter how flimsy and barely there the material was, she had an eye for detail. These silk dancers outfits they wore were more expensive than anything they had ever worn before.

Glancing at her daughter again, she could see her face was stoic, but she was trembling. Finally giving in, she placed her hand on her daughter’s shoulder, making her eyes snap towards her. Esmeralda fought a wince. She could see the fear that her precious daughter was trying to hide.

“It will be okay, Emerald.” she whispered, her smoky voice easily heard in the silent room. “We won’t be hurt here.” she gently squeezed her shoulder, trying to give comfort, before pulling away as she heard the door click, bowing her head submissively towards her lap, Emerald doing the same next to her.

~x~x~x~x~

Jaune thought about his father’s words as he reached the door of his new bedchambers, thinking on how he was going to handle this.

(Flashback)

“These two have had several ‘owners’ before, son.” the derisive tone of his father’s voice made Jaune squirm, even though he knew that the anger was directed at them. “Abusive louts, the lot of them! No care for human life!” His father shook his head, his slowly graying hair swaying. “Take care of them, son. They need your kindness and care.”

(Flashback End)

Jaune took a deep breath. He just needed to stay calm, keep a cool head, treat them like they were humans, even if they were his property. Grabbing the doorknob, he twisted it and stepped inside his room.

~x~x~x~x~

Emerald Sustrai never knew a life outside of ownership. But she did know that owners varied. A lot. She still was haunted by how their last one had treated them. Cinder Fall was not a pleasant mistress, or even a pleasant woman. Others hadn’t been too bad, but too often they were resold because their owners got ‘bored’ with them. Emerald was still surprised that she was pure, the male masters they had instead preferring her mother’s skills (even if she had been forced to watch), but knew that her luck wasn’t going to hold out.

After all, only one thing could happen when during their primping and preparation session they had been given contraceptives. Expensive, fast acting, contraceptives. The flimsy garments that hid nothing only added to her belief. After all, the thin silk didn’t hide the darkness of their nipples or the slits of their pussies from even themselves, never mind anyone else who looked at them.

But if her mother was right, and the Arcs were like how she had heard stories of, this couldn’t be too bad...even if a thrill of terror was running down her spine at the thought of being fucked for the first time. Part of it was honestly, how was she, a virgin, to please her and her mother’s new master? Her stomach roiled at the thought of them being sent away due to her inadequacy.

Now, the fact that she had managed to remain a virgin this long seemed to be a sword hanging above her neck rather than a relief.

As the door opened, she chanced a glance up, hoping that he master didn’t notice, she didn’t want to be punished on her first day here, and her mouth went dry. He was...handsome. He wasn’t a fat old man, nor some waif of a girl. Before her stood a warrior, born and bred.

Light colored hair, the color of the sun itself, covered his head, shining in the dim light of the room, mixed with blue eyes shining like precious stones, like the ones she had seen previous masters wear and flaunt. His face was handsome, no extra fat whatsoever, but not so thin as to appear gaunt.

His body...she fought to not fidget as she gazed over him. The outfit may have been simple, but her and her mother’s new master had an impressive body, one of strong, cut muscles that pressed against the thin shirt that he wore.

She immediately glanced down when he started to turn from closing the door behind her, trying desperately to calm the rapid pounding of her heart and the burning in her cheeks. She rubbed her thighs together gently, trying to ease the heat in her belly. She had never felt this before…

~x~x~x~x~

Jaune almost felt his mouth go dry. They were beautiful. Not in the same way as Pyrrha or May, but an exotic beauty all the same. Skin a few shades lighter than either Terra’s or Elm’s, matching the color of the chocolates that his sisters and female friends loved to snack on. Flowing mint green hair that barely fell to their chins. Eyes the color of rich rubies. Button noses, full lips.

Unbidden, his eyes fell further. Full breasts with hard dark nipples. Flat, toned bellies. Wide, flaring, birthing hips. Toned legs. And the family symbol tattooed directly over their wombs. All of this beauty, wrapped up in gauzy, see through dancers silks. He knew that Terra and Elm had a hand in this. Those two loved teasing him.

He could feel his cock growing and sliding down his inner thigh. Licking his lips, he spoke. “Hello, you two. Names?” he could be forgiven for not being the most literate, after all, Alizaryn and Saphron had both been speechless when presented with Elm and Terra.

~x~x~x~x~

Emerald did not swoon. Swooning was for the annoying waif girls that she and her mother had been forced to serve and attend to. She wasn’t one of those. However, she couldn’t deny that his voice did something to her. She swallowed, licking her lips. “E-Emerald Sustrai, Master.” she stumbled slightly over her own name, something that mortified her, but her new master didn’t notice the gaffe.

“Esmeralda Sustrai, Master.” she heard her mother purr next to her, making Emerald swallow. Her mother was definitely pulling out her tricks, like she had with their other male masters, likely hoping to draw attention onto herself rather than her...but Emerald realized two things. One, she likely wouldn’t get away from notice this time, even with her mother’s wiles, and two, she wasn’t sure she wanted to get away from his notice. The look that he was giving her wasn’t simply lust, it was...she couldn’t find a word for it.

~x~x~x~x~

Esmeralda easily slipped back into the simple mindset she had had since Emerald was born: Protect Your Daughter. It was very easy to do, no matter the gender of their master. For men, draw upon their lusts. For women, draw upon their lust, or ire, depending. Anything to protect her daughter. She could see the bulge growing in his pants, and despite her worry for what might be coming, found herself growing moist, arousal flowing through her body. It had been so long since she had been actually satisfied during sex, not since her she had been with the man who had given her her precious daughter.

But even still, she just needed to keep his attention on her, make him lust after her and her alone. Since they had been told that this was a ‘Coming of Age’ celebration, Esmeralda figured that their young master was a virgin, which meant he would be eager and have a lot of energy, but not have a lot of staying power.

...it also meant a likely lack of control once he got lost in the pleasure of a physical body. So, more reason to keep his attention on her.

But, seeing his well muscled and cared for body, Esmeralda couldn’t help but lick her lips. She couldn’t deny that he was much more appealing than any of her previous masters. Maybe...maybe this time wouldn’t be so bad…?

~x~x~x~x~

‘Firm hand, Jaune...firm, but gentle…’ the blond reminded himself. “What are your skills and talents? I know dancing is one of them.” he licked his lips again as the elder of the two, Esmeralda, shifted and raised her head to look at him, the daughter Emerald following suit. He didn’t miss the look of awe on Emerald’s face. It was something akin to how he saw both Terra and Saphron’s looks when they met.

“Yes, Master. Dancing was a skill taught to me when I was a girl, and I trained Emerald personally in the skill. As for other talents, I was trained extensively in the sexual arts, the skillset growing with every new master and mistress we’ve had. We have both also cared for ailing and children.” he could see a small bubble of dread fill her when she realized that dancing and sex were her two main skills, with some minor ability to care for the sick, and her own experience raising her own child being her other skills. But then, what other use was there for a pleasure slave?

He released a hum. “You said ‘I was trained extensively’, was Emerald not?” he saw her heart sank to her stomach, her skin loosing some of its color and taking on a more pallid look. He held up a hand to forestall any panic, turning to Emerald. “Emerald? Is this true?” he saw her tremble a bit, before weakly nodding her head. “Y-Yes, Master…”

He sighed softly, reaching out and gently cupping the girl’s, who couldn’t be older than him, face. Gently directing her face up, he gave her the gentlest smile he could. “It’s okay, there’s no shame in that. I’m surprised, certainly, you are quite beautiful.” he saw her smile weakly. “Thank you, Master.” she murmured, leaning into his palm.

~x~x~x~x~

Esmeralda watched in shock as their new master actually comforted Emerald. She had heard the Arcs were caring, but she never expected this! With any of their previous masters, weakness had been met with slaps and beatings! Not enough to scar, but enough to show them their place!

She was surprised that she hadn’t been stripped of her garments and thrown onto the expansive bed and fucked senseless already! Their last male master hadn’t even bothered doing this before attacking her body outright!

She looked up at her, their new master, as he gently pulled her daughter close like one would a lover, her precious gem curling up against him like an affectionate cat seeking attention. Normally, she would be horrified at the lack of decorum to their master, but he curled his arm around her and gently rubbed the bare skin between her dancer’s top and bottom. It was gentle, soothing, and surprisingly, non-sexual.

~x~x~x~x~

Emerald snuggled into her master’s chest, inhaling his scent, the spicy aroma of sandalwood as his hand roamed over her back, his fingers, strong with callused tips, rubbing against her skin, gently following the extremely thin, shallow scars a careless master had given her long ago. Ones given for ‘not showing proper respect’.

She knew she should feel more worried, but she found that she couldn’t. Her new master radiated kindness and comfort, something she was very unused to. She wanted, needed, more. Eventually, though, she heard her mother speak.

“Emerald, my dear, why don’t we give our new master a dance?” part of her wanted to whine, but she knew that she had likely pushed her luck further than she should with touching their master without his express permission. Nodding against his chest, Emerald slowly pulled back, a frown tugging at her lips as she left her master’s warm embrace.

Giving her master as soft a smile as she could manage, she moved back toward her mother. “Yes, mother, lets give our master a dance he won’t forget!” her voice was low, but not from fear, but rather, lust and desire.

~x~x~x~x~

Jaune swallowed as both exotic beauties stood smoothly and a set pace away from one another, no more than five steps he guessed, before they began to sway their bodies. Slowly starting, swinging their hips back and forth, the silks covering their intimates swaying, the gauzy fabric moving and giving him flashes of bare cocoa skinned lips, before being ‘covered’ again.

Breasts and hips swayed, arms moved and slowly roamed over their bodies, trailing over their torsos, cupping and squeezing and presenting their breasts to him, fingers circling their hard nipples.

The pair were obviously skilled at what they did, well practiced and a paired unit, perfectly in sync with one another. He swallowed hard as they spun slowly, the fabric that passed for a skirt fluttering, revealing the full and fat swells of their plump asses to him.

He licked his lips, his cock throbbing in his pants as he watched the pair spin again, arms behind their heads as they thrust their chests out towards him, their nipples almost pressing through the hyper thin material. Their hips rocked side to side like pendulums, both looking at him lustfully.

Jaune groaned, his dress pants almost tearing from how hard his cock was getting. Fuck, he needed relief! He knew that these two were his to do with how he wanted, but he wasn’t cruel. They may be his, but he wouldn’t force them. He was better than that.

~x~x~x~x~

Esmeralda knew that her master was aroused. She was sure that even Emerald knew; those slacks held his body well, and hid his manhood poorly. The swelling of flesh was making a distinct print along the inside of his leg. She felt herself getting moist between her thighs. It had been so long...and she could tell that her new master was caring. He would not mistreat her, or her daughter. Such kindness...needed to be rewarded.

She began to move, sauntering over, making sure to sashay her hips and subtly twist her shoulders, making her tits sway, her nipples aching as they rubbed against the thin silks she wore as she made her way towards their master, ready to use all of her talents to please their new owner.

Reaching him, she smoothly dropped to her knees before him, sitting her plump ass on her heels and placed her hands on his knees. “Allow this one to take care of your needs, master~” she purred, sliding her hands up his inner thighs, palming the thick cock and feeling the intense heat bleeding through the thin dress pants.

This close, she could already smell the musk of his body, a spicy aroma that was pleasing, nothing like the smell of her previous masters. Her hands crept up further to his belt, skillfully undoing it and reaching for his button, flicking it open to reveal...her mouth dropped open.

“…Wow…” Esmeralda turned to see her daughter had moved forwards, staring in unabashed awe at the large stalk of flesh that had snapped up and jutted out of his pants, straining hard and insistently, begging for any sort of attention.

Esmeralda smiled at her daughter. “Emerald, attend and learn.” she hummed, turning her eyes back to her master’s hard flesh. She didn’t need to turn to know that her daughter had sunk to her knees next to her obediently and was watching attentively.

~x~x~x~x~

Jaune bit the inside of his cheek, having two beautiful women kneeling between his thighs, both staring at his cock with unashamed awe. He was surprised, knowing that Esmeralda had likely had a long list of lovers, and Emerald had at least watched, so he couldn’t be the most impressive they had ever seen. But their looks also didn’t seem faked.

Even then, his cock was screaming for some sort of sensation, some sort of relief. He hadn’t ached this much in almost two years, not since the time Saphron had pulled him into her bedroom with a naked Terra and begged him (on bent knee, at that!) to give them a baby that would be considered a full-blooded Arc.

He inhaled sharply as slender hands moved and pulled his pants down more, his heavy balls falling free of his garment as Esmeralda worked his dress slacks down and off of his body, leaving him bare below the waist.

He swallowed as soft hands moved up and cupped his heavy balls. “See, my daughter?” he heard her purr, her fingers gently moving over the sensitive skin covering the fragile orbs. “This is a wonderful way to start off teasing a man…” he bit his lower lip as she bounced his aching balls in her hands.

~x~x~x~x~

Esmeralda smiled softly as she saw their master trembling already, but he hadn’t attempted for more yet. So, not a virgin, but also not used to sexual contact. She could work with that. Moving her right hand up, she gently grasped the thick stalk of flesh, shivering as the heat seeped into her hand. “Gently, Emerald...like petting a kitten.” she instructed, moving her hand up and down in a smooth motion, making their master moan and arch his hips. “That sound? That means you’re doing it right.”

Esmeralda made a few more pumps with her hand, the dribbling precum acting as lubricant, making the glide of her hand smoother and easier along his shaft. “You want to keep a moderate speed unless you’re teasing or want them to cum quickly.” Emerald likely already knew by watching her all these years, but sex lessons always bore repeating...especially since her daughter was likely going to lose her virginity today.

Glancing back at Emerald, she saw that she was staring intently at what she was doing, a red tint to her cheeks, making the mother smile. She didn’t know why this was making her blush, she had watched her do so much more...speaking of which…

Esmeralda leaned down and licked a stripe up the length of the thick cock before her, from the balls to the tip, making sure to maintain eye contact with her master, satisfaction filling her as she he groaned. His taste was clean, salty and savory, a pleasure for her palate.

Moving her tongue up more, she pressed the flat of it just underneath his head and swirled it slowly, lapping the drops of precum that oozed out of the slit and began to drip down. Moving closer, she felt someone touch her, and glancing to the side to see Emerald moving forward almost eagerly. Leaning to the side, she allowed her daughter to get between their master’s legs as well.

“Now, trail your tongue like this-” Esmeralda dragged her tongue up from their master’s balls again, from base to tip, then moved back and watched her daughter attempt, nervously sticking her tongue out and dragging it along the pillar of flesh.

~x~x~x~x~

Emerald was nervous, there was no other word for it! She had never done something like this before, despite her last mistress loving having her eat her out at all times. Her virginity may be hers in the strictest sense, but her mouth had certainly been used by her female owners. What if she was no good at it? She shook her head, casting her fear to the side and focusing on the tip, tasting the oddly sweet flavor on her tongue.

She knew she was wet, could feel her juices sliding down her inner thighs, and she knew that there was no way that she’d get away without losing her virginity today...but strangely, the thought didn’t bother her. Their new master hadn’t been rough at all with her mother...this...this would be worth it.

~x~x~x~x~

Jaune was close to cracking, these two women were driving him nuts with their beauty, their actions, the slow teasing of his cock. Esmeralda seemed to notice this, and smiled. “Master, there’s no need to be so high strung…” he watched with wide eyes as the elder of the two slipped behind her daughter, tugging the flimsy covering between her thighs to the side and revealing her soaked core, her other hand reaching down and spreading her lips, revealing bright pink insides, dripping with want, to him. “My daughter wishes to attend to your needs.”

Jaune swallowed hard, looking into the younger woman’s eyes, seeing lust and want in her ruby orbs. But he was raised better. He would make sure. “Are you sure, Emerald? There’s no going back.” he rasped.

~x~x~x~x~

Emerald’s anxiety left her, even though her heart sped up. Her master truly was kind to actually ask her if she was sure about this. But she wanted this. She actually wanted this. “Yes, master...please...take my purity as yours. All of me, all of my body, is yours. Please, claim me as yours.” she chanced a glance up, gasping as he cupped her cheek again.

She gasped again as her mother’s fingers rubbed her sensitive little core, swirling around her sensitive little button, making her pussy clench and drip. She felt her mother’s lips against her ear. “That’s it, baby...get nice and wet for our master…” Emerald’s hips bucked as she felt her mother tease that small bud with her longest finger, while her eyes locked on her master, seeing those deep blues filled with lust. All aimed at her.

Her lower lip shook, but she was no longer going to deny herself! “Please, master…” she whispered softly. She yelped as she was suddenly grabbed and pulled up, straddling her master’s thighs, his hard shaft pressing against her moist core; her eyes rolled up in her head as the thick stalk of flesh rubbed against her sensitive clit, making her shudder and shake on his lap. A large, strong hand clasped onto her rump, his fingers sinking into the soft, pliant flesh, making her whimper.

Slowly, she began to work her hips back and forth, up and down, spreading her slick fluids along the thick shaft pressed against her, gasping and shaking all the while. She...she never knew that sex was like this…

~x~x~x~x~

Esmeralda smiled softly as she watched her daughter rock her hips. There may be no penetration yet, but she knew that her daughter was in good hands. She just hoped that her master had enough in the tank to take care of her as well...she didn’t want to be left alone with her hands after this. But he was young; he was sure to be able to handle her virgin daughter and herself…

~x~x~x~x~

Jaune groaned as Emerald’s soaking core ground against his aching shaft, his hand sinking into the soft pillow of her ass. “Em...Emerald…” he fought from letting his voice be little more than a lustful growl, “I’m going to lift you up now…” he shifted his hands to her hips and began to lift her, toes curling as her slick cunt pressed down hard on his needy cock, her fluids dribbling down and running over his balls.

Positioning her above his cock, he shivered, feeling the head of his dick rubbing against almost criminally soft lips. “Emerald...you’re going to need to lower yourself...at your own pace, okay? Don’t go too fast, otherwise-!!” Jaune gasped as Emerald twisted her hips and shoved herself down, bottoming out as her bubbly ass smacked against his thighs.

He was forced to grab said rear and hold her against him as she shook and trembled on his lap, her eyes wide and unfocused, as her pussy squeezed, flexed, and rippled around his shaft. She was cumming just from being impaled on his cock. If that wasn’t an ego boost, he didn’t know what was.

~x~x~x~x~

Emerald’s eyes rolled up in her head as pleasure exploded through her body, starting at her core and moving its way up, through her belly, back, chest, legs, arms, and ending in her brain, fingers, and toes. She shook like she had touched a live wire, her core going wild around the beast that it held prison.

She inhaled and exhaled, breathing hard and fast, her breasts bouncing and nipples scraping against the thin silk she still wore, her toes curling as she shook on top of her master. Slowly coming back to herself, she looked at her master, before clenching down on the thick flesh within her. “Master~” she purred, the sound coming from her without any issue, so reminiscent of her mother, “Your pleasure slave is ready to fulfill all your desires...every. Last. One.”

For all her confidence, a squeak still escaped her as her master spun her around, and pressed her against the bed, making her whimper and her back go utterly limp as a cooked noodle on the comfortable bed. She reached up, clutching at him, her slim fingers digging into her master’s top as he began to thrust into her slowly, making her gasp and shake underneath him as he claimed her.

Was this what sex was like? Truly? Not the obviously faked stuff her mother did with their previous male masters, but being loved, cared for? Her eyes rolled up in her head again, her smooth legs, still partially covered in their silks, swinging around his hips and locking together, her toes curling as her master filled her with more pleasure than she had ever experienced. “MASTER~!!♥♥” she cried out, throwing her head back as she convulsed around him, arching up and trembling.

Her master kept moving through her orgasm, not stopping nor allowing her to catch her breath, making that crest of pleasure just rise and rise and rise, her pussy squeezing and flexing and rippling around him, trying to empty his body of his seed. She was going to go insane at this rate! Her master was going to turn her into a slut for his cock! Blackness creeping into her vision, she arched as she came for the third time in quick succession, passing out with a blissful smile on her face as her master groaned above her, going stiff and blistering heat filling her belly.

~x~x~x~x~

Jaune groaned in pleasure as he came, shooting jet after jet of thick cum into Emerald’s belly, watching her tremble and shake in her third orgasm, slumping with a wide, almost delirious smile on her face, her ruby eyes rolled up in her head.

Grunting, Jaune slowly pulled out, hating leaving Emerald’s warm and tight pussy, but not wanting to fuck her while she was unconscious. Fortunately, he had another person here to help slake his needs...turning, he licked his lips as he saw an eager looking Esmeralda licking her lips. “Esmeralda is ready to tend to your needs, master~” she purred.

~x~x~x~x~

“Ah! Ah! Ah! Yes! Yes! More, Master! More~♥♥♥!!” Esmeralda cried out, on all fours above her daughter, although she might as well be lying on top of her as their master pounded into her needy, leaking pussy, his hips slamming into her rear with loud claps, making the thick flesh ripple and shake. She groaned, her own ruby eyes clenching shut as a powerful orgasm flew through her body.

Her master was the most attentive lover she had ever had, and considering that some of their previous masters had passed her around like a party favor at parties, that was saying something! But she forced those memories from her mind, focusing instead on the thick cock slamming into her body and giving her pleasure that she had never felt before.

“MmmmmmmMaaaasssstteeerrrrr~♥♥♥♥!!” she wailed, arching as his hand came down on her cheek, not to spank, but to grab and sink his fingers into the fat swell as he plunged into her faster and harder, making her cum and cum and cum. The only thing keeping her from outright collapsing was the knowledge that her daughter was underneath her.

“Mmmm...M-mom?” ruby eyes shot open and she looked down, to see her precious daughter looking up at her with a lazy smile on her face. “Is master making you feel as good as he did me?...I can barely feel my legs…” she moaned.

Esmeralda opened her mouth to speak, only for an extremely slutty moan to leave it, her legs quivering as she came yet again, her own cum drooling down her inner thighs. She blinked as her daughter’s arms looped around her neck and pulled her down in a loose hug. “Master...mommy’s womb needs your wonderful cum...can’t you please fill it like you did mine?” Esmeralda’s eyes widened as their master moved even faster, slamming against her pillowy rear, an undignified yelp escaping her lips as a hand (her own daughter’s hand, at that!) crept between her thighs and played with her clit, while she smiled up at her with that naughty little smile she always shared when they played with one another for their master’s entertainment...but she couldn’t help but think that it was far different this time around.

But those ponderings were driven from her mind as she flew into another orgasm, waling out, her pussy going wild around her master’s dick, trying to coax out his seed. Her master did not disappoint.

Esmeralda inhaled sharply as Emerald leaned up and pressed her lips to her own, soft and sweet, full of love and emotion. Part of her wanted to jerk back, but instead, she just leaned forwards and pressed her lips against her daughter’s just a bit firmer. Her eyes drifted shut once more. Whatever this was, she could worry about it later. For now, she was just going to enjoy what they were experiencing.

~x~x~x~x~

Jaune growled as he slammed himself to the base inside Esmeralda, her fat ass cheeks rippling as his balls snapped taut, erupting and spitting out every drop of cum still inside him into her womb. Focusing on the pleasure, he watched as Emerald leaned up and kissed her mother, gently and sweetly, making him smile.

Saphron was correct; the Coming Of Age Celebration really was the best birthday ever.

[author-morgan]

Your work is so good, you should do this for a living! Your Ivarr stories are treasurers! Because quality Ivarr content that matches up exactly with my fantasies are rare, and I'm shit poet...

Could you please do one where the clan's dainty sweetheart secretly has the hots for Ivarr but avoids him because she doesn't know how to act around him.

He's also into her but thinks she hates him.

She gets terribly drunk for first time ever, throws herself at Ivarr...

Confused but also turned on, he internally struggles because doesn't want to take advantage of her.

He puts her to bed/or gets someone else to do it? Ubba? Because he doesn't trust himself to be alone with her?

Finds her when she's sober and not hungover, confronts her because drunken words are sober thoughts. She's embarrassed but they end up having really great sex!!!

i do write for a living, just not creative writing oh the joys of academia. apologies for the long wait, but here's more Ivarr! hope you enjoy! ♥ i kind of went overboard (like 3.3k words overboard) but it's Ivarr and i'm thirsty as hell for this bastard. Ivarr the Boneless x fem!Reader

EIVOR SHAKES HIS head. His arms crossed with a frown playing on his lips. He doesn’t see what you do —why of all the people in Midgard, you only have eyes for Ivarr the Boneless. Even Ubba would be a better choice, he thinks. It’s in Eivor’s nature to worry over and protect the ones he loves after all he’s lost. You are another example of Styrbjorn’s charity to those he considered friends, just as he is Sigurd’s brother in all but blood, you are their sister and have been for many years —becoming a temper for the two rowdy boys, favoring the healing arts over swordplay and battle.

Since Eivor’s initial meeting with Ivarr in Repton, there’s been something about his methods and outlook that sets Eivor at unease, even more so now that he’s caught Ivarr’s gaze lingering on you —like now during the autumn feast. Some jest, saying opposites attract, and while that seldom seems to be the truth, it is for you and Ivarr. He is cold iron, warm blood, a harsh winter —and you’re soft silks, a cool breeze, fresh spring blooms.

He’s seen the looks you share with Ivarr. Fleeting and flirtatious, but that is nigh all you share besides few rushed words in passing. Ivarr cuts an intimidating presence, and you’ve never been quite sure how to converse with warriors beyond your brothers. It’s nigh as difficult for Ivarr —all he knows is bloodlust and his fellow drengrs— finding the right words to say is not a battle he thinks he can win. There’s fondness between you, almost everyone can see it, but there are times when Ivarr is left to wonder if you truly like him or if your soft smiles and kind words are only a product of his reputation.

Ivarr’s feelings are clear to himself, though, especially as he watches you among the people of Ravensthorpe, partaking in the autumn festivities. Seeing you wear a crown of gold and amber leaves, dancing with Ceolbert to the drunken tune of Bragi and his tagelharpa with a tankard of Tekla’s mead in hand makes his heart beat faster, and his mouth go dry. He keeps to the benches, reminding himself that a drengr does not dance —at least not this type of dance.

The evening fades, but the festivities don’t. Soma claims her clan throws the best feasts, though you’re tempted to challenge the jarlskona for the title since Ravensthorpe has grown. You look around, searching for your brothers, but Sigurd has retired for the evening, and Eivor is slumped over on one of the tables, asleep —his hand still curled around the handle of his mead cup. Sighing, you find Ivarr’s gaze in the hazy air of the longhouse, half-shocked by the intensity and darkness, half-eager to return the lust-laden stare with your own.

Emboldened by the mead, you gather another horn and move across the longhouse where Ivarr sits. With a smile, you offer him the horn of mead before taking the empty spot on the bench next to him. He eyes you, curious, as he turns up the horn —downing the mead in a few gulps— and turns his attention to you. Spurred on by the moment, you lean closer, twisting to drape your legs across his thighs, squirming more than needed. “What game are you playing at, little dove?” Ivarr asks, his gaze dark and tone dangerous. You only smile, flitting your eyes up to meet his as you tip up your cup.

The soft plucking lyre strings and the low thrum of the tagelharpa are nigh enough to lull you to sleep coupled with the stillness. When you start to sway, both from the trance of the music and the heaviness of your eyes, Ivarr brings you closer to his side before deciding it best to see you off for the night —lest he is on the receiving end of Sigurd or Eivor’s anger. Ivarr pushes the bench back from the table, slipping his arms around your shoulders and beneath your knees, rising with you cradled in his arms —head resting on the leather of his shoulder pauldron.

When Ivarr places you on the straw and rag stuffed mattress of your cottage at the eastern edge of the settlement, you are not eager to part with him —the bulge tenting his britches tell you he’s not eager to leave you either. “Don’t” —you hiccup, lips turning into a pout as you lift the hem of your skirt to show the bare skin of your calves and beyond— “don’t you want me?”

Gods, Ivarr wants you. Just the thought of lying with you sets his blood hot and racing —like a giddy boy before his first battle. He doesn’t think he’s ever wanted a woman more. But he can smell the mead on your breath and see the weariness hiding in your eyes. Ivarr knows it is the drink speaking for you, and he will not be the one to dishonor such a woman as you. “You’ve too much drink, little dove,” he chides in a rough chuckle, uncurling your fingers from their hold on his tunic. “Sleep,” Ivarr says, sitting back on his haunches —drinking in your appearance for a final time, “I doubt you’ll say the same thing come the morning.”

MORNING BREAKS AND so does your uneasy rest. The scent of smoke and mead clings to your skin and clothes, as does a dried sheen of sweat. Rising, you strip out of the soiled clothes and into a linen shift. With the hour still early and some only just retiring for bed from the feast, you gather up a cake of soap and boar-bristle brush, heading toward the small waterfall and pool at the northern edge of the settlement. Sparing a quick look around and now certain you’re alone, you strip, stepping into the clear, cool water with a sharp inhale.

Humming a soft song, you wring the suds from your hair and cross toward the bank where your clothes lay, but the snap of a branch underfoot stops you. Gaze darting around, you see him emerge from behind the trunk of a large tree near the stables. “Ivarr,” you greet, not shying away from his wandering gaze. His silence and the look in his eyes make you smile as you wade in his direction, stopping when the water brushes the underside of your breasts. “Are you watching me?” It’s a redundant question that needs no answer besides the hungry look in Ivarr the Boneless’s eyes.

“What you said last night–” he starts, voice surprisingly cautious, but you cut him off with a wave of a hand and scolding grin. “I was not that drunk, Ivarr.” Tekla’s mead had not dulled your senses, only gave you the courage to act on buried feelings. He lifts his brow and rakes his hand through his parted hair. “And yes. I meant it,” you tell him, wearing the same look now as you had last night nigh begging Ivarr to have his way with you. If Ivarr is surprised by the truth of your feelings, he hides it well. You motion to the pristine pool of water and bite down on your bottom lip before finding his gaze again. “Join me?”

Ties and buckles rustle as he hastily kicks away his boots, drops the fittings of his armor, and does away with his britches and tunic. Ivarr circles you like a wolf eyeing his wounded prey, and then he pounces, wrapping an arm around your middle, pulling your back flush against his chest. He leans forward, trailing his nose along your shoulder and neck —rough hands trailing up your sides and around to your breasts, squeezing them and teasing your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers.

When you gasp, he bites down on your shoulder and rocks his hips into your ass with a low chuckle. “You know who I am?” He means it as a warning —a warning of his bloodthirsty and unkind nature, that he is not a man to sing sweet songs or offer tender caresses. You already know that, having been privileged to witness Ivarr the Boneless in battle and know him outside of his craft.

“I do,” you answer, unwilling to shy away. He sucks in a sharp breath when you turn to face him, stepping closer and look up at him under lidded eyes with a wicked smile that sends blood rushing to his already half-hard cock. Careening toward Ivarr, you brush your lips across his jaw, settling one hand over the dark tattoo of Yggdrasil on his breast. “And if I wanted gentle,” you breathe at his ear, nipping at his neck, “I would fuck one of the Saxon monks.”

Ivarr laughs, grinning, but it falters when you reach below the water and squeeze his cock and balls, giving no doubt to your intentions or your wants. “Careful, little dove,” he hisses, tilting your chin up. He hunches, ashen hair half-falling before his face as he leans down and kisses you, warm, open-lipped, and intoxicating.

You pull back with a groan, and Ivarr chasing your lips, stopped only by your hands cupping his face —thumb tracing the deep scar on his cheek. “While giving the gods a show sounds delightful” —Ivarr’s lusty eyes take on a twinkle at the thought. Suddenly he’s picturing you splayed out on a Christian altar, spent from his love with his seed dripping from your cunt. His cock twitches, pressed tight against your belly— “Sigurd or Eivor finding us like this is less enticing.” Had it been anyone other than Ivarr, your brothers would have turned a blind eye, but neither have particularly liked the interest you and Ivarr show in one another.

Stepping back, you grip onto his wrist, staying his hands from their wandering assault, and pull him toward the waterfall and the small cave beyond. Before Ivarr has a chance to move again, you smile for him in the dim light, sliding an open hand to the nape of his neck, drawing him closer. With your lips pressed against his, Ivarr can only reciprocate —he parts your lips with his tongue, hands curling into your hips in a vice grip. But when the kiss breaks, you shimmy from his grasp and trail your lips to the dip in his neck —licking and laving.

“Having your lips on my skin is torture,” he inhales, hand fisting in your hair as you move down to the tattoo of Sleipnir at the center of his chest. You laugh softly and lean back, his eyes piercing through you. The smile on your lips is roguish, but you do not let up, making your way to his abdomen where a few small scars are clustered. Ivarr moans above you, and you haven’t even touched his aching, dripping cock yet. His hand reaches for your breasts, but you knock it away, having yearned for this moment for too long to let it slip away.

He titters at your enthusiasm and rolls his hips forward. Not dissuaded, you press your lips to the scar next to his navel, right below one of the dark runes tattooed on his abdomen. The hand still twined in your hair tightens, pushing you down to your knees. Ivarr’s legs are powerfully built, the muscles of his calves and thighs flex as you run your hand over them appreciatively, still finding small scars to trace and kisses, purposefully ignoring the hard cock pressed against his stomach. His hands clench as you kiss the skin of his thighs, your hair tickling the underside of his cock.

You smile at his surprised gasp when you drag the flat of your tongue along his cock, tracing along a vein running up the length of his shaft. Ivarr’s unable to hold back his groan when your fingers wrap around his girth, giving a few heavy strokes. And then, without warning, you wrap your lips around the head of his cock. He tastes of salt and iron and something forbidden and dangerous. Taking his cock as far as you can, you press your tongue against the underside, silently humming.

Above you, Ivarr chokes your name like a ragged prayer —it fills you with pride to know the son of Ragnar Lodbrok is coming apart at your hands and mouth, unable to say anything but your name. The lords of England may fear the whisper of his name, but right now, he is at your mercy.

Slowly, he begins to thrust himself into your mouth, but he makes no move to command your movements. Instead, his impatience wins over. He pulls you away from pleasuring him with your mouth. “Enough,” Ivarr says, his voice ragged as he crouches down, hand sliding from your hair and down to tweak one of your pebbled nipples, then lower still until he comes to the warmth between your thighs, slick with arousal. You whimper, gripping onto Ivarr’s shoulder when he pushes two fingers into your cunt, curling and thrusting. “On your knees, little dove,” he rasps. He warned you, and now he means to make good on his silent promise.

You struggle to gain your balance on the uneven ground of the small cave, but soon did, only to nigh lose it again when Ivarr slides the blunt head of his cock through your slick folds —thrice over before gripping onto your shoulder with one hand and guiding himself into your warmth with the other. Ivarr’s moan when he sinks inside you is breathless and airy, a misplaced sound from the likes of him. He grips you tight —one hand on your shoulder still, the other on your hip— holding your squirming body still as he eases his way into you. Your shoulders curl forward at the sudden wide spread of his cockhead into your body, fingers digging into the soft earth beneath you.

Ivarr pants against your shoulders —you can feel the open brush of his mouth along the sensitive skin of your spine and neck— as he draws his hips back and slams his cock back into you. You buck your hips back in time with his thrust, and Ivarr growls. You move with him as he fucks into you, squeezing with your inner muscles and whimpering in loud gasps. “Ivarr,” you chant, over-and-over.

He’s pounding hard immediately, giving in to the hunger that’s been consuming the both of you for far too long to be decent. His fingers are strong, streaking against your skin as his grip slides, something to discolor and bruise you by evening. But it feels so fucking good. You toss your head back, finding a glimpse of his face in this aching position with back arched, teeth shining in the low light, and eyes burning on you. He’s feral and ruined, and his fingers bend on your skin.

The building tension fades when he draws back, leaving you aching and empty. Ivarr spins you to face him as he reclines. “Ride me,” he commands, kissing you quickly, with an open mouth and teeth scraping your bottom lip. You pull away from the kiss, moving so you could sit atop him, straddling his hips, his back against a smoothed boulder. Breathless, Ivarr cannot be bothered with the loss of control —reckless abandon shines in your eyes, and he cannot help but grin as you slide down on his cock. He grunts enthralled at the feel of your warm cunt around him, walls clenching to feel every ridge and vein.

Moments pass, and you begin to move on top of Ivarr, rolling your hips into his. He groans, rough hands torn between holding onto your hips or pawing at your breasts. Instead, he decides to push himself up and let his lips attack your jaw and throat —biting and suckling— and annoyed at the slow in pace, Ivarr thrusts his hips up into yours, a sign to move faster. You don’t hesitate —lost to the exquisite bliss, clawing, desperate and eager. Holding Ivarr’s face in your hands, you try finding his lips with your own, but all you can do is moan and pant with him into his mouth, lost in the craven pleasure.

Ivarr bites hard in the crook of your shoulder and neck as he repeatedly drives his hips upward, chasing his and your releases. One of his hands slips between your bodies —his calloused thumb teasing your clit in a way that makes your hips stutter and body trembles, nails clawing into Ivarr’s shoulders. He grits his teeth, wondering if his little dove had broken skin. The burst of pain fades quickly as he watches your body bounce in time with his thrusts and listens to the moans and pants echoing off the cave walls and water.

He knows he’s close, his pants ragged and thrusts sloppy and desperate. The hitch in your breathing when he presses his thumb against your clit tells him you’re close to. It’s the boiling heat between you that takes hold, curling your toes and parting your lips in a silent throe, hands digging into Ivarr’s biceps as he chases his pleasure —teeth bared and bright eyes burning. Several thrusts later, his body tenses, and a dull warmth spreads between your connected bodies, and still, he is not done with the thrill of how you tremble and whine above him, but the rhythm soon slows, and you fall forward, resting your head on Ivarr’s chest.

You sit there, savoring the last twinges of carnal gratification, with your bodies rising and falling as you breathe in unison. And when the haze clears, you trace the small scars near his shoulders and follow the blue-black runes tattooed on his middle.

After what feels like an eternity, you feel him shift underneath you, sitting up on his hands. Ivarr glances over you —the small purple marks at the base of your neck from his lips and teeth, how your nipples are still hard, begging to have his mouth on them, and how your bodies are still connected. His cock is soft now, his seed seeping from your cunt and drying on your thighs —Ivarr thinks it a glorious sight. He hisses as he pulls himself out of your warmth, slowly, relishing in the gasps and whimpers you make at the resultant empty feeling it leaves between your thighs.

With flushed cheeks and swollen lips, you tell him you must go —this escapade would have already made you late for your daily duties, and the last thing you wish is for one of your brothers or Valka to find you in this state. He follows you from the cave behind the waterfall, back to the bank where his and your clothes are strewn. Gentler than you’d imagine, Ivarr kisses your cheek, then the corner of your mouth, before cupping your face with strong, rough fingers and moving your lips back to his. You let him move you, kissing you back, smiling against his mouth. “Come to me at nightfall,” you breathe against his lips, parting to gather up your clothes and shoes.

Ivarr grins, swatting your ass before pulling you against his chest, keeping you from reaching for your linen shift —his chin resting on your shoulder as his hand slides between your legs and two fingers sinking into your cunt, still slick with your essence and his seed. “That eager for my cock again, little dove?” He laughs.

He’s silenced when you grind back into his hips with a glint of mischief shining in your eyes. Ivarr lets you go, though reluctant, and watches you dress from the corner of his eye. It’s impulse driving you when you decide duties can wait. Smiling, you grip onto Ivarr’s wrist —he’s only half-dressed in his britches and boots, tunic in hand— and drag him away from the waterfall and toward your home in the settlement. Consequences be damned. It feels as though the gods made you and Ivarr for one another, and you aren’t willing to let another moment be wasted.

[taglist: @elizabethroestone @kitkitvm @elluvians @fullmoonwolfer1 @ghostieisalone @boodaga @southsideslutt @dynamite-with-a-lazerbeam @lizlovecraft @heathensith @alexisp787 @nobodyydobon @certifiedlittleshit ] if your name is italicized, tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you. if you want to be added to my taglist for Ivarr, just let me know in the replies or a DM!

[apexqueenie]

The Blood King (Bakugou x Reader, Medieval AU) Ch1

Synopsis: In fairytales, princesses like you got to marry handsome princes like your best friend Shoto, but you’re not living a fairytale. You find the harsh realities a punch to the face as you and Sho run away outside palace grounds and into the real world. But the harsh brings out the beautiful, and in your case, it took the form of the scarlet covered barbarian king, whose territory you disturbed.

A/N: This is the first long series that I’m writing, I hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: Swearing, a bit of violence (This is Bakugou lol), eventual smut (I’ll put a warning dw, totally skippable)

[Ch1]->[Ch2]->[Ch3]->[Ch4]->[Ch5]->[Ch6]

You didn’t know how much more badly a plan could go, but here you were, lost, wounded, and scared in the middle of the freaking forest, the sound of a very angry beast trailing after you. You tugged at the unconscious man on the floor, his head bleeding severely. He was losing too much blood and you couldn’t keep pulling him along without stopping the bleeding first. Your only option was to fight. How did this all start exactly? Well, it started when you decided to ditch your wedding.

***

In a daze, you pulled yourself from your slumber, rising to the sound of gentle knocks at your door. “Who’s there?” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. 

You shivered slightly and crossed your arms, realizing that you had kicked off your blankets in your sleep. Your best handmaiden, Ochako, barged in, not even bothering to answer the question. 

“Good morning princess” she sang delightfully as she opened your large curtains, allowing the morning light to spill into the huge room. Ochako, although not being of royal blood, was a close friend of yours throughout the years. It was her job to serve you, but you loved her and treated her as your sister. 

“Chako, I told you (y/n) is fine when we’re alone” you said with a yawn.

Ochako hummed as she walked to your wardrobe, sifting through it for the perfect dress. “Ah, but you see your highness, we aren’t alone.”

Before you could question her, a familiar face peeked around the door, heterochromic eyes glancing around the room. “Hi” he says before entering the room and closing the doors behind him.

“SHO!!!” You yelled, launching yourself out of your bed to give your childhood friend a big hug. You haven’t seen him since last summer.

The both of your fathers were Kings of kingdoms who traded with one another, meeting in person once a year to discuss the details. While they both enjoyed a bit of drinking and chess, you and Shoto ran around the gardens barefooted with sticks in hand for fake swordplay. They were always about knights and dragons, and since there were only two of you, you took turns being the dragon or the knight. Princesses weren’t taught to practice swordplay, so Shoto took it upon himself to be your mentor. He taught you what he remembered from his private lessons, insisting that if you were to meet a real dragon like in your games, you would be able to fight it off. 

“But won’t you be here to protect me?” you asked, lowering your stick.

“Yeah,” he said, “but when we meet a real dragon, we’ll be protecting each other.”

Every year, you two would meet to run around the gardens, hiding from your handmaidens and butlers until meal time. Every year, you would shy a bit away from the games and start sparring for real, Sho providing the wooden swords to teach you what he’s learned from the top sword fighters across the continent. Every year your blades danced with his until the both of you could read each other’s movements with a single glance. And every year, you felt a growing affection for the boy that you were too afraid to bring up. 

The two of you talked about your home lives often, sharing stories and complaints about being “perfect” and a “role model” to your citizens. Shoto’s father constantly pushes everyone in their family to their limits, causing the Queen to go insane and burn Shoto, leaving a signature red scar on his left eye. While she was locked in the medical housing part of the castle, Shoto started to understand why his mother lost her mind and silently started to rebel against his father. Your father was similar, always correcting you and forcing you to practice perfect mannerisms. You were his first born, you were supposed to be the perfect example of what a future Queen was to be, especially for your younger siblings; the second born son barely of age to train by sword. If you were anything less, you were to be locked in your room until you had time to “reflect”, your maids unable to speak to you in fear that the King would hear and throw them in the dungeon. Your mother, being too vain to involve herself with any of her children, never saw any of you until your birthdays. She opted to drown herself in self-pampering every other day. Both of your lives were royal hell until “The Meeting”, where the both of you could forget about being perfect for a day.  

You wrapped your arms around Shoto’s neck and buried your face in the crook of his neck, the both of you clutching each other close. His body radiated its own heat, warming you more than the thin fabric of your nightdress could. You pulled away, realising he got even taller this year. 

“I missed you Sho!” you smiled.

“Likewise” he replied, slinging his sword from his back, only there was another object wrapped in silk next to it. “Did...anything interesting happen this year?” 

“Hmmm,” you pondered, walking to your vanity and grabbing a brush. “Well, Jinko is pregnant again.”

“Your mother?”

“Heh, she was never around enough to be a ‘mother’, she’s merely my birth-giver.” you snorted, combing your soft locks. 

“So, is that the fourth…?”

“Fifth.”

“Well then.”

“Yep, and as soon as she’s done pushing it out, she’ll ignore it 364 days of the year. Hell, Ocha was there more for me than my mother ever could be” you say, earning a small blush from the girl.

Shoto sighed, taking a seat on the edge of your bed and placing his sword next to him. 

“Anyways, what’s the meeting about this time?” you asked now moving onto cleaning your face.

“That’s… uh...well, I have to talk to you about something soon, but first, I brought you a gift” Sho said a bit awkwardly. He turned and handed you the silk wrapped object. You took it gently, afraid of breaking it, that was, until you unwrapped it. Your mouth dropped as you felt the silk fall off and onto the floor, completely forgotten as you held up the object in awe. In your hand was a long silver blade engraved with delicately curved patterns surrounding a single mother pearl at the center and down the blade itself. The hilt fit perfectly in your hands, the weight completely balanced. 

You were damn near about to cry. “Sho...its-”

“Get dressed so we can try it out” he smiles and hands you the sheath.

Giddily, you sheath your sword and headed to the dressing curtain where Ochako waited for you with a big smile. She seemed to have known about this whole visit because she held up a bit more of a casual dress, one that wasn’t as long as it normally would be. You never understood why you had to wear dresses as a princess, but it couldn’t be helped, you had no control over your clothing choices. Ochako however, had the power to hem the dresses for you so you could run with a bit more freedom. 

***

“Sho! I can’t believe you did this! How’d you manage to sneak this by your dad?” you ask once you are dressed. You moved to take the direct route to the gardens, but Shoto pulled you to a different route around. “Sho?”

“That’s the thing I have to talk to you about,” he said, peeking into all the rooms and hallways before entering, “I don’t want to run into anyone else right now.” He pulls you along swiftly until you reach the gardens, taking one last look around you before relaxing a bit.

“Hey, Sho, what the heck is going on?” you ask, lowering your voice.

The boy in front of you couldn’t look you in the eyes. He was worried about something, which was totally uncharacteristic of him. Trying to ease his nerves, you reach out and gently squeeze his hand, but he doesn’t respond back. Instead, he just sighs, finally about to say something.

“So...you know how we...always meet up every year?” he asks.

You nod, slightly confused at where this was going.

“Well, our fathers have been discussing…”

“Discussing what?”

“Something very.. special for next week-”

“My birthday isn’t for a couple of months”

“It’s not that-”

“Then?”

He turned his head and sighed. 

“...Discussing our marriage…” he trails off.

“Sho! Oh wow, This-this is great!” you beamed. You always thought about the day you’ll have to marry someone. Your role as a princess was to marry a prince, and become a beloved Queen to your kingdom. You dreaded that it would be for trading purposes, that you’d have to marry some pudgy old man so that your father could share more land, but you had the option to marry your best friend! Anyone would be delighted at the thought...anyone but Shoto.

Your smile quickly faded as you studied his face. He expressed a mix of guilt, awkwardness, worry, and something you haven’t seen before…was that fear?

“What’s wrong?”

He shook his head, still unable to look at you, “I can’t do this-”

“Is it too early still? Because it’s ok, we don’t have to-” The words stung, but you couldn’t let that get to you.

“No! No, that’s not it, it’s just that I can’t”

“You can’t what? Tell me what so I can help you.”

“I… I love you (y/n), just...not like that” he says, furrowing his eyebrows.

“What? Wait, what do you mean?” you asked, stomach dropping.

“I just mean that I, I don’t see you like that.” he said.

“So, I’m not good enough?” you shook your head.

“-No-”

You could feel the tears stinging in your eyes, “so...there’s someone else?”

He lets go of your hand to rub his arm in a nervous manner, “No, that’s not it either, I just don’t know how to explain it-”

But he was lying. You knew Shoto was a bad liar around you. It was bad enough that he couldn’t look at you, but even worse that he was taking steps away from you, slowly inching backwards in the opposite direction. He wasn’t trusting you with something and you didn’t know why, but your anger took over, and suddenly, you didn’t want to know why either.

“Well then, I’ll leave it to you to inform our fathers that this wedding won’t be happening, Todoroki.” you huffed. You saw the hurt in his face when you called him by his last name, but you could care less right now. You turned around and headed back to the castle, back to your room, and back to Ochako so you could cry in comfort. You kept your eyes trained at the ground, a silent message to all your servants to leave you alone. However, the message was left unknown to someone who didn’t live in the palace, someone like King Enji. 

You were cut off from the path to your room by the tall and heavily built man, his eyes cold and harsh staring at you from above. You stopped and immediately curtsied in respect, as you were representing your father every time you met with a leader of another kingdom. 

“Good morning, King Enji.” you said, giving him a well practiced ‘princess smile’.

He only grunted in response, nodding his head to the sword strapped to your back. “I see you received my son’s wedding gift, do you find it satisfactory?”

“Oh-the sword, right! It’s beautiful, your greatness. I am so humbly honored to receive such a gift.” you bow. You had completely forgotten it was there after what happened with Shoto. It was supposed to be a wedding gift, a sign of his love for you, but he didn’t love you like you loved him. You should be throwing this thing away, you should feel disgusted...so why did those words come out so naturally? Why did the sword feel so familiar? Hopefully Ochako could help you answer those. 

King Enji nodded in approval, motioning to some servants he had waiting out of your sight. “You have good manners, young one. Perhaps my son could learn a thing or two from you when it comes to respecting his elders.”

Two female servants took place besides you, awaiting further instructions from their King. 

“Your father has agreed to allow me to provide the dress, courtesy of the profits he helped me make last year. My servants will be taking your measurements, as well as note your likes and dislikes for the preparations.” he says before walking off.

All you could do was smile now. You couldn’t make your father look bad, even in front of servants. You continued to hold back tears as the handmaidens escorted you to your chambers.

So much for spilling your heart out to Ochako. 

***

The maidens were merciless, insisting that every measurement be as precise as possible. You tried to delay them, but your efforts were futile. They brought every bit of conversation back to the dress, and to the wedding plans you know you won’t have. Guards were installed in front to ensure no one came in or out until every inch of your body was measured to perfection. They measured your breasts and behind about five times over to ensure that “your best qualities were perfectly framed” for the wedding. Best qualities? Were you just boobs and ass for the future King? You sighed, still letting them continue their measuring. Shoto wouldn’t have cared…

No, he was Todoroki to you now, until he can give you an explanation. 

But...do you even deserve one?

As King Enji’s servants gave you a break to bring out supplies for your fitting, you walked over to the sword your “fiance” gave you, unsheathed for its glory to shine on your bed. He knew how you liked it, designing it to perfectly mirror you. He took note of everything you loved, remembering your style interests from whenever you two would talk for hours on end. You traced the flawless engravings on the blade itself, almost tearing up again. Turning the sword over, you saw the engraving on the bottom of the hilt, small, yet beautiful nonetheless. 

“Let’s protect each other from now on”

All the anger you felt before was gone, replaced by pure guilt.

He really did love you.

Just not in the way that you had hoped. 

You were being selfish, and you needed to make it right. 

Before you knew it, you were yanked back to the full length mirrors for more measurements. 

Both the measuring and interrogations lasted nearly the entire day with the servants drawing several designs and re-measuring you for each one. Of course, they didn’t accept a “that looks fine” or “this one is good'', so they continued to create new ones, each more extravagant and beautiful than the last. Evening came, and the maidens packed their materials to head back to their own kingdom. You thanked them sincerely for all their hard work and rushed off to say goodbye to Shoto until he disappeared over the hill and into the forest, like you’ve always done...except you weren’t.

You arrived to meet your father, King Enji, and Shoto in the main hall a little out of breath while they said their last goodbyes. King Enji broke his attention away from your father to give you a polite nod, acknowledging your presence. Your father noticed this and turned to give you a big hug, laughing heartily. 

“Can you believe it? You’re getting married in a week! I need to tell your mother straight away! She would be so proud.” he says, pulling strands of your hair behind your ear. 

“Yes, I believe she would” you smile. You weren’t in the mood to explain that she’d only use this as an excuse to out-fashion you on your own special day. 

Shoto hung his head in silence right next to his dad, still not making eye contact with you. You tried to pay him no mind and instead focused on building up your courage to ask something of King Enji in the politest way possible. 

When you got the chance, you squeezed out every bit of bravery left in your system to say “Erm, King Enji, is it alright if Prince Shoto stays?”, twiddling your fingers innocently.

The red headed man looked a bit taken back by the question, but he didn’t seem opposed to the idea. He snorted, waving his hand to Shoto, who stared at you with an open mouth.

“Ah, young love,” your father chuckled, and went to see his comrade out the door.

Without a second to spare, you grabbed Shoto’’s hand and led him to your room, closing the door behind you quickly. 

“(y/n), what are you doing?” he asked, watching you shove a chair underneath the handles of your doors. You had enough palace servants for today. 

You turned around and immediately threw your arms around his waist. He stood rigid with surprise before hesitantly hugging you back with a light grip. He was still confused from the fiasco earlier, but didn’t blame you.

“Sho....I’m so sorry, I should have understood.” you whispered. “I hope you could forgive me..”

He gave you a slight squeeze, “Of-course, (y/n). I’m sorry too, I-”

“Stop. You don’t need to explain anything to me. All we need to do is get this wedding cancelled.” you interrupt, looking up at him. “Also, I’m glad you didn’t say anything.” 

He looked relieved, giving you a soft smile. “Thanks, (y/n).” He pulls away from you and takes a seat on your bed next to where your blade still sat, unbothered. “But, I realized that if I were to tell my father, he’d assume it to be an insult no matter what I say, and end the friendship. with your people. Then he’d have me married off to someone else and make my life more hell than it already was. I’d rather be married to my best friend than a stranger.” he smiled.

You opened your mouth to say something, but the words escaped you. You were stumped. After all of this, it turned in your favor, but you didn’t want this anymore. 

You huffed and stood up abruptly, heading to your drawers and searching through them. 

“What are you-?” Sho trailed off, standing up with you. 

Finally, you found an assorted set of bags you use to collect things on your trips to the forest. With most of your years being devoted to molding you into a perfect queen, you haven’t used these for anything more than bringing home a pretty set of rocks in hopes that your mother would pay attention to you. Now, you were finding the biggest ones, planning to fill them with essentials to help you survive the woods. 

“We’re not going to do anything we’re forced to be into,” you said, “No matter what, our fathers won’t allow us to cancel this, but they can’t do anything if we’re not here.”

“(y/n), you’re not thinking of leaving are you?” he asked, worry apparent all over his face. 

You handed Sho a bag, staring him straight in the eye. “I’m absolutely thinking of that.” You grabbed a bag for yourself and shoved the rest back into your drawers. “We both have siblings who can inherit the throne, right? And if we disappear together and write a note saying something like “oh this is going too fast and we decided to take a break together in the mountains”- neither of our fathers could blame each other, so-”

“Hey,” Sho laid a hand on your shoulder, “we don’t have to do this. I told you, I really thought about this, and as long as it’s you, I’ll be happy-”

“No, Sho,” you said, shrugging off the hand and looking through your closet for extra clothes, “you can tell yourself that, but that’s not going to be true. I want you to be just as happy, and that’s not gonna happen if we go through with this marriage. Look, I know Ocha’s grandmother lives in a small town East of here, past the forest. If we can get there, we can rest and figure out what to do, ok?”

You looked at him for confirmation, his brows furrowed and his lips spread into a thin line. For a few seconds, he contemplated the terrible outcomes of your plan, but he knew you would just do this yourself if he didn’t come with you. 

Finally, he nodded before he could change his mind.

This probably wasn’t the smartest idea, but at least you were together.

[thr-333]

Drastic Measures- Part 2

@daminette-december2019-2020

~Swordplay~

To summarise: I will have the love square one way or another!

Ao3

First >Next 

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

As far as homes go it’s pretty good” Adrien stretches out, Plagg curls up next to him.

“Don't get too comfortable we’re going to be on the move,” Marinette types furiously at her computer.

“I will try my hardest,” Adrien stares blankly at her, sat atop a pile of grubby blankets next to a broken window. Marinette loses connection to her computer and slams it shut with a huff.

“Get some sleep I’m going to find an internet cafe,” Marinette stuffs the cheap laptop into her bag, amazing how something she bought at a hole in the wall place for thirty bucks didn’t work well.

“Who needs sleep when you can have coffee,” Adrian stands up, ready to follow her.

“Sleep Chat,” She pushes him down by the shoulders, “I need my partner fully operational,”

“Yeah kid, take a break, we worked hard,” Plagg yawns, turning over.

“You also worked hard Bug,” Adrien lets himself be pushed back onto the blankets.

“I won't be able to sleep until I know how everything is in Paris,”

“Neither can I,” Adrien protests, already half asleep.

“Sure you can, night Chat,”

“Night M’lady,”

Marinette leaves the same way they came in, though the window. She has to slide down the gutter to get on the street, Tikki hiding away in her bag. She has to go pretty far in town to find a suitable cafe, too far from Adrien to be comfortable. Marinette pops in her earbuds before opening her computer to let her talk to Tikki freely.

She doesn't immediately search up missing person cases. Looking instead at Paris tourist destinations and guides. Switching to the dangers of traveling to Paris; the only mention of Akuma being on obscure question and answer sites. She looks at kidnapping potential and then moves onto missing person cases. Adrien's is the first to come up, obviously. 

There was lots of outcry among his fans. Many were throwing around accusations of foul play on Gabriel's part from abuse to locking Adrien away from the world. However, Gabriel was also fiercely looking for his son. Adrien hadn’t left behind any sort of note. Well only to Nino, which Adrien had told Marinette was asked not to mention to anyone.

Marinette then feels safe enough to look up her own case. It was smaller, although was gaining attention as Jagged proclaimed it to high heavens; more so asking what they did wrong and how they could fix it and asking for any sightings of her. That could be a problem if her picture was already around. Marinette pulls her hood up higher. They might have to get haircuts and wear disguises… on second thought wearing suspicious disguises in Gotham might cause more problems.

“Tikki they seem really worried,” Marinette watches the videos Jagged posted, her parents in the background running around talking with police.

“Of course they are Mari,” Marinette feels a light tap on her side, “But you're doing the right thing,”

“No I’m not,” not when she’s watching a video of her parents crying,  “I’m doing what needs to be done, this is my responsibility, no matter what a certain someone thinks,”

She spits with venom. Maybe Adriens rant last night rubbed off on her.

“He’s the hero here,” Tiki says non accusingly, “Imagine if another hero came to Paris without asking you… remember Volpina?”

“Ah now that was an actual villain,” Marinette hadn’t trusted her from the start,  “Plus she was akumatized,”

“Marinette,” Marinette can’t bring herself to feel guilty, even under tikis scolding.

“Right but that still doesn't give him the right,” Marinette huffs, “After all would he attack Marinette? No!”

“Are you implying you would attack Lila?”

“......... no,”

“Marinette,”

Marinetti smirks to herself instinctively looking around for Adrien to share her joke. Then Marinette froze. The cafe was empty, not even a barista. How had she not noticed!?

“Wait,” Marinetti says out loud before Tiki could talk, “I’m going to have to call you back, something just came up,”

Something was watching her from the kitchen door as if she couldn’t see them. Marinette tries to act normal going for the pepper on the table and putting it on her food. They move at the same time. The attacker runs towards her, Marinette throws the shaker at- Robin?! It hits him square in the forehead, with a curse he touches his bleeding forehead.

“I am so sorry!” Marinette panics, “That was meant to explode in your face!”

“How is that better?!” Robin runs forward, sword drawn. Marinette ducks behind the table grabbing her plate and frisbeeing it towards him, he manages to dodge this one, “Draw your weapon coward!"

“I don’t have a weapon!” She grabs the table cloth ready to take the vigilante down, “What is wrong with you?!”

He doesn't answer lunging at her again with the sword. Marinette kicks up the table then kicks it towards him in one swift movement. With the impact of the table he drops the sword, Marinette jumps up landing on the table which pins Robin down to the ground with its weight and hers, with the legs sticking up.

“I knew it,” Robin spits and she presses her weight into the table to keep him pinned.

“Excuse you,” Marinette catches his wrist as he tries to pull a dagger on her using the table cloth to tie it to the legs of the table, then does the same with the other, “You attacked me,”

“-Robin!” she hears a faint call, no one is around so it must be from his communicator, “-Robin report back to the cave!”

“I’ll take that~” Marinette sings songs ignoring how he growls at her. She rolls her eyes stepping off the table she needed to get out of here now.

She steps out of the cafe throwing the communicator and likely a tracking device too on the roof of a passing car then sprints in the opposite direction. She heads for the alleys looking for an area with no cameras as she runs. When she finds a spot Marinette transforms running back to their base with record timing.

“Adrien wake up!” Ladybug jumps through the window, barely avoiding landing on him, “Batman’s after us,”

“What?!” He sits bolt upright, Ladybug pulls him onto his feet.

“Move! Now!” She grabs their bags, Adrien transforms and they take off over the rooftops.

“What happened?!” Chat shouts as the runaway, “Is Batman chasing us?”

“Yes, well kinda-- Robin tried to kill me,”

“He what?!”

“As Marinette,” She adds, slowing down as they should have put enough distance between them.

“Did they figure us out already?” Chat Noir slows down into a walk then collapses on the rooftop,

"Probably,"

“This is the worst wake up call ever!”

“Well, it's about to get worse,” Ladybug cringes feeling the distinct trace of magic she was all too familiar with.

“Akuma?”

“Akuma,”

“Great, perfect,” Chat complains standing back up.

“At least we’re not at school,” Ladybug shrugs, launching herself over a roof.

“No you’re right being chased by a masked vigilante is a massive improvement,”

---

Wow

“Robin! Get your head out of the clouds and get over here!”

Damian breaks out of his trance, regrettably tearing his gaze away from Ladybug to the much less awe inspiring sight of Batman trapped under a car. They shouldn’t be wasting their time worrying about these established amazing hero’s and worry about that assassin on the loose. Who knows who she was after. She could be planning Batman’s demise at this very moment; if she was close with his mother then surely she knew their identities which was far far more dangerous.

Ladybug could handle herself as evidence by her going toe to toe with the newest villain. In a matter of minutes, the villain was down for the count with no help on their part. 

“Ladybug!” He calls before she leaves again, maybe she could help him convince his father that he was being an absolute buffoon.

“Oh it’s you,” She says surprisingly coldly, “What do you want now?”

“Now?”

“Are, you here to attack me again?”

“... I didn’t attack you?” He had spent all morning tracking down a dangerous assassin.

“... Oh! Of course, you did- haha I just ummmm-- there must have been an… Akuma! Yes! There must have been an Akuma earlier that looked like you,”

“An Akuma was impersonating me?” Robin growls.

“Yeah, they do that sometimes,” Chat Noir pipes up, “It’s annoying,”

“Yes and if you’re here, that uh… that means the Akuma is still out there so we gotta go deal with that so-bye!” Ladybug swings off closely followed by Chat Nor; off to go save his name and reputation.

---

“So you really think that was an Akuma?” Adrien asks as they transform back.

“Maybe- I don’t know it was just an excuse so he wouldn't figure out my identity,”

“Well at least he doesn't know it,” Adrien shrugs as they walk through the alleys in search of a new place to rest that night.

“If he doesn't know then why would he attack Marinette?” She asks, “And if it was an Akuma that means Hawkmoth knows my identity which is so much worse!”

“Is it tho?”

“Chat,”

“I mean back in Paris it would have been bad,” They both cringe, “But here we have no home, no family, no friends! He cant use any of that against us now!”

Adrien beams his contagious smile.

“You always manage to find a bright side,” Marinette smirks punching him in the shoulder.

“So that's why,” They both turn around, staring in shock.

“Batman?!” Turning back their way out is already blocked by mister boy wonder. Who, by the way he is glaring at her, was not an Akuma this morning.

“I can't believe Talia called me because some teenagers were eloping,”

I know that name- WAIT!

“Eloping?!” Marinette chokes, “We are not eloping!”

“As in not at all,” Adrien blanches, “And I mean no offense Marinette you are literally the sweetest person but I can’t imagine anything more horrific!”

“Oh god, same!” At least now, “I mean once when we were younger…-- it was a silly crush!”

“Wait you had a crush on me?!”

“Yeah, well, you had a crush on me!”

“... oh god… I did, didn’t I?!”

While Adrien is dealing with that little revelation Marinette looks around for an escape. There isn’t much opportunity since both have their eyes on them, partly out of morbid curiosity at their little freakout. Well if you don't have a distraction homemade is fine.

“AKUMA!” They both look, predictably. 

Marinette grabs Adrien and runs. She goes for the side Robins guarding, sweeping his legs sending him crashing to the ground.

“I’m not sorry!” Marinette calls as they sprint down the alley.

Marinette heads for the main street, enough of a crowd to camouflage. As they are walking through as casually as possible Marinette sweeps them both for bugs putting any she finds on random passerbys. They walk sometimes ducking into busy shops in hopes of losing their trail. They come across the mall which works perfectly for them. They stay until it starts to approach closing time, it’s easy enough to avoid security and so they get locked in for the night.

“So what do you want to do?!” They walk through the empty halls Adrien skipping along and looking at each display. Marinette stops outside an electronics store, the tv’s still on and displaying the news.

“Make a plan for a way to deal with that,” On-screen are the two of them, a video of Ladybug throwing a car at Batman, “This is taken completely out of context!”

“What’s the context?” 

“Batman was being a little bitch!”

“I’m sure that will hold up in court,” Adrien laughs taking a seat in one of those massage chairs, “Besides what's the problem?”

“The problem?!” Marinette yells, “The problem is that now all of Gotham is going to hate us!”

“So? Do we really need them to like us?” Adrien gets up to stand by her, rubbing her shoulder.

“They did in Paris,”

“We’re not in Paris anymore,” Adrien says quietly, leading her towards the seats, “We have a chance to start new again, everyday something we haven't done before, a couple of pals living day to day on the edge, isn’t that exciting?”

“I just--” want to go home, “I’m tired,”

“Take a break,” Adrien sits her down in the massage chair with a kind smile, “I’ll keep watch,”

“.. ok,” Marinette curls up in the chair Tikki coming to lie beside her. With not much strength to fight it, Marinette falls asleep while she can.

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

Taglist? nope don’t have one, horrible at keeping track of them sorry~

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Witcher Of The Night (Chapter 6)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

CHAPTER 5

WITCHER OF THE NIGHT MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: It seems as if a witcher came home after having his midnight pleasures from the brothels; leaving you in having a sleepless night. The witcher seemed to be distant after his argument with his child of surprise which left you completely confused because you’ve did nothing and have been anything but mean to him. Some questions were answered by a fortune teller as to why you came from another dimension; but the witcher was stubborn enough not to believe him and his intuitions. Leading to another event which would get everyone's life on edge, especially yours.

Warnings: Cuss words. Old times where men treat women like shit. Irked, frustrated, confused Geralt. Emotionally hurting reader. Naive reader about the whole medieval era. Jaskier finally being comfortable around the reader. (I don't know why this is a warning? 😂)

Words: 5,800+

A/N: AAAAAAAAHHHHH! I need me some actionnnnn! LMAO. XD This chapter was supposed to be posted on April 18 but I couldn't help it and I wanted to post it right now, So y'all can have something to read about. Heehee! THANK YOU FOR THE SUPPORT, TATERS! Btw, this is one of my favorite chapters and chapter 7 too which will be next to this. Ahonhonhon! Dang, I can feel we’ll reach 25 chapters before this ends. 😂😅 jkjk. I’M SO THIRSTY FOR GERALT, IS THIS NORMAL?

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE!

Disclaimer: PNG's used in edits are not mine even the GIF's too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi. Characters, places and said monsters aren't from moi as well.

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

You haven't seen the outside world; like you've been a cast in the 'Big Brother reality show'  that you were watching back at your apartment. It was a lot more different in their city; much more barbaric; lively but actually mirthful.

When you've arrived at the marketplace there where tons of people, absolutely crowded with all forms of life walking around. There were white tents where merchants have been selling their goods and a lot of buyers hollering for their attention.

You've remembered the night before when Cirilla has hugged the life out of you all night. She'd cried herself to sleep but eventually let the wrath fade away early in the morning; acting like nothing happened as she'd asked Geralt for her weekly training in swordplay before the morning comes.

Up all night and you couldn't sleep. Cirilla has offered her bed to keep you comfy rather than the table out in the kitchen. You've said your disagreement to the offer because of her status. She was a princess, so you've thought that sleeping beside her would not be possible. Though, she was persistent and asked you if it was okay to hug you while she sleeps even just for the night.

You've eventually said yes; but had to keep your eyes all open especially at the bothered feeling of your heart from the facts you've heard from Cirilla. Even adding more effect to your sleepless night was from a witcher who happened to went home before the morning twilight rises. His reasons were unsaid but the booming voice of Jaskier in the small living room was enough for you to know that he'd gone somewhere...fun, exciting and pleasurable.

Thus, that kept you up all night even more.

Your heart seemed to be a lot more bothered after he arrived maybe with a pang of a peculiar sting inside your chest that made you pout all through the night.

Nevertheless, you've ignored that feeling because maybe it was just a stomach bug that you've had since then. The morning after, you wore your winning smile as you've shown yourself to the men of the household with a beam you hoped that seemed to be convincing that you had a good night sleep.

But, Jaskier being Jaskier; he'd pointed out those horrid eyebags you've appeared to be nastily wearing. The Witcher had said nothing other than a wavering look which felt so different. So distant and withdrawn like he wasn't capable of smiling. Well, he had reasons not to after what has happened in his life and probably realizing how much of a baggage you are for even living in their home like you popped out of a chicken's bottom and gave them eggs to bear.

The connection lasted for two seconds as Geralt studied your face before breaking whatever overwhelming feeling that the butterflies in your stomach has been trying to say. He'd then avoided being in your presence and went out to feed his horse as he got ready for the morning activities.

Jaskier gave you both a look of wonder before you'd given him a reassuring smile like there was no uncomfortable feeling running in the veins of your heart. You were the best at it; faking a smile that is.

The way towards the marketplace was much farther than the way to Cuthbert's house. Obviously, because it was almost like a city or the center of the kingdom for the walk of life. You've walked alongside with Jaskier as Geralt had Cirilla on his horse.

It was the first time you've appreciated Jaskier's talkativeness because if he wasn't then the whole journey would've been serene and awkward by how the witcher was giving one word answers to anyone's questions or statements.

Well, he certainly slept on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Literally, because he'd slept on a different kind bed with a woman.

You've tried sparking up a conversation; tried saying your sweetest good mornings when he was outside and talking to his horse, but when he'd felt you were there. It was like the wind changed and he didn't want you to hear him talking to his horse nor even breathing.

A simple good morning and how he was were asked; but a simple, lackadaisical answer of the word 'fine' was given to you; not giving you those enchanting golden eyes and just the wide statuesque of his back were shown.

So much for going outside to try and talk to how he was because he seemed to be in need of more people who cared for him.

You've ignored the way your heart fell at how he was putting up; acting like he wasn't trying to comfort you the other day when you were having one of those panic attacks you have. Here you thought, he was actually starting to treat you as a friend even just for the time being but it was like the world shifted and he was treating you like a stranger.

Maybe, you were right. Your presence was beginning to become a burden of his surprise obligation for even paying for your clothes and letting you stay in their home. As much as you've remembered that night, you would only stay for a day and leave to find the airport. But, the airport was nowhere to be found as you've finally realized how you actually magically appeared on a different kind of earth and in a timeline you weren't accustomed to.

You didn't know what to do. No matter how much you wanted to go home and leave the family you were currently living with; it was like you were left with no choice but to stay because you didn't know how to come home.

There was no coming back, as of now.

"Why, who's this small lass?" The feebly, doddering woman croaked as she accepted coins from a Kaedwenian child before she'd finally turned to look at you from head to foot, her expressions unreadable when she'd noticed how you've looked more of a hobo then their peasants who lived anywhere and had no place to live. Though, you were cleaner than the rest.

It was like there was a garage sale in the marketplace; tons of stuff laid on the tables as you didn't knew what the uses of it were. Your eyes were scanning the things that laid on the table; one by one until your attention caught a silver necklace that had a leaf as a symbol and coral green stones wrapped around the linings of silver. You've picked it up and examined the jewelry; being charmed by the mere necklace and lately realizing that the stones were twinkling like no other; having no explanation at how it was twinkling or glittering against the sun like magic was consuming it.

"It's a fae," Babeth cut you off your reverie. You've snapped out from being enchanted by a simple necklace. It was a pretty one, definitely can be used everyday and the way it twinkled was strangely beautiful. You didn't expect for them to have these kind of necklaces, "---Serves as an amulet for bad luck that is bound to come. A sorceress has said her incantations to that necklace; keeping you away from ill-fate,"

Babeth gave a weak smile, the wrinkles on her face thoroughly evident as she continues to mindlessly fix her goods in front of you. You blinked back at her, a beam raising your lips as you tried to get a good look at her, "A fae, ma'am--??"

The woman has completed your sentence for you, raising her gaze to meet your eyes and noticed it was a beautiful, light forest green, "You can call me Babeth, Elfin!" she sweetly yelled over the loud chatters of the crowd.

She suddenly gestured behind you, nodding her head as her smile widened, eyes also twinkling like how bright her smile have been; like she was happy with her life and family, with no worries. "What's your connection in being a travel companion with a witcher, elfin?"

You blinked out of surprise, betwixt and between turning half your body around when you've felt Geralt's presence looming behind you. You've resisted the urge to face him and just stared at Babeth instead, ignoring the fact that he was already staring at your head; longer than he ever did since this morning. However, you didn't know he was even looking.

"Ughm," you hesitatingly started, thinking of another statement other than saying that you were figuratively an alien in their world. The witcher wanted to save you from saying anything weird that can get them speculating that you weren't from their world and tried to butt in,  "She's---"

Jaskier came to your aid; despite of not asking any help because you certainly didn't need saving in anything. He'd slid beside you with a more added effect and subtly wrapped an arm around you, in between you and the witcher who was sky scraping from behind.

"Geralt's destiny," the bard confidently finished for you both with a dramatic gesture of his free hand; giving Babeth a smolder when he did open his mouth to utter lies at the sweet, old woman.

Geralt's attention went straight to Jaskier's arm wrapped around you; lately becoming aware of what he managed to tell the merchant. It made him growl beneath his chest, giving the bard a scowl from behind. But, it seems as if Jaskier's persistence didn't falter as he continued to smile at the seller before them.

"Bard," Geralt roughly scolded with his jaw tensing.

Babeth's facial expressions seemed to even be happier, if that was even possible. Finding the news thrilling and exciting for her to hear; her eyes lit up like fireworks in the sky, "Oh! A lover!" she gave a clap full of mirth, "---I didn't know when you'll become serious with yer' life and thought you just do yer' whores!"

Your smile wavered at the last mention of that word. So, he was also infamous for that. Probably always in brothels since Jaskier has always been saying. To make things straight to the point, Geralt was one of the fuck boys in earth. Typical men.

Well, he isn't a prince from the start so technically that explains it. Withal, there was no prince' and only in fairy tales despite that you were living in a fairy tale surprisingly.

You've felt Jaskier's hold on you grow tighter when you continued your explanation for the poor, old merchant who was smiling like she'd seen her favorite OTP finally be together, "Oh--Babeth--I'm not--" a loud cough erupted out of your throat as the bard scooted closer, his arm now around your neck as he added pressure like he was choking you, "Ja-Jaskier!" your eyes bulged out of your eye sockets, grabbing onto his arm and violently clawing them away.

The merchant went on with that adorable smile of hers, never guessing if you were both playing nor trying to kill each other already. Jaskier was smart enough to distract your loud huffs of breath through his fake laugh; topping those loud complaints of yours, "Oh! Hahaha! Aha! you know how tender...love...and care can change a person! Perhaps, got the witcher soft somehow!" he gestured with his thumb towards the Witcher who was throwing daggers behind his back.

"Is this your compensation because we've brought a Hirikka at home?!" you hoarsely whispered, struggling to get away from his hold.

The bard laughed louder before lowering his voice down and muttering in between his cackle, "I'm making it easier for everyone! Shh!"

You were close to biting his arm until it bleeds. But, you didn't want to ruin his very elegant and flamboyant clothing that you only see in the medieval period, "Well, you're not!"

Jaskier slanted his head to take a peek of your reddened face. Due to his arm choking and also probably the fact that he'd been trying to tell the merchant that you were Geralt's other half, "Then, why do I see a blush?"

The merchant waved her hand from the banters, giggling at the way you both looked like you were playing before giving her attention to a new customer who'd rudely demanded for her attention. Thus, it was the perfect time for Geralt to wrench Jaskier's arm around your shoulders, strongly pulling him from his back as the witcher sighed in frustration.

Jaskier tried to battle with his strength, though it was no use because apparently; the witcher was stronger. "Ge-Geralt! What?! I'm making everything easier by controlling your foolishness while you're being an utter boor!"

Their voices died down, constantly being covered by the lively noise of the marketplace. The boys were probably going to the Tavern they needed to visit as you were now left with Cirilla who was picking new dresses for her and for you.

She'd pick up a cute princess like strapless dress that will certainly reach above your ankles. Cirilla held onto the beautiful dress and showed it to you, her grin painted on her pretty face, "Say you didn't like dresses, Y/N?" you've blinked back at the dress like you couldn't believe it was real and actually cute. A satisfied nod was given to the child, "Well..That is certainly an exemption," you pointed out and excitedly grabbed onto the dress, placing the clothing in front of you to see if it would fit perfectly. It does and you couldn't help but think how it was normal to wear these kind of dresses without people looking at you weirdly like back in earth.

Cirilla continued her ransack through a hill full of different types of clothing and grabbed onto a red, sheepskin cloak that had the right length for you; adding it to the items that should be bought. She went on in finding more clothes that will fit you, "---Also, they have leather pants, boots of your size and half sleeved shirts you may want?"

You saw how concentrated she was with picking clothes for you to wear; like she was more excited to dress you up. However, no matter how much you wanted to buy those clothing, you understood and accepted the fact that you haven't brought your wallet with you and they probably had a different money currency as well.

"But, I don't have any coins for these..." your train of thought ceased; index finger pointing at the pile of clothes she was carrying on her child-like arms.

She gave all the clothes to an awaiting, smiling Babeth. The Ashen haired child patted herself as she was searching for something, "Cease the worry, Y/N!" the latter fished out a medium sized black bag full of coins, "---Geralt has it covered!"

You've had your face in a twist; screaming its negations over the fact that it was the witcher's money that was going to be used. Though, there was no use of a protest when she was determined and was a one word woman.

All the clothes that has been bought was inserted in Cirilla's beige ransack that was strapped on her back. You've offered to carry it for her as she'd seen Ethelia who hollered for her attention. She was also the same age as her; even as beautiful as the princess but she had brunette hair, hazel eyes with freckles all over her nose. Ethelia was as pretty as a picture; same goes for Cirilla.

One fact that you learned about their world was that it was full of lovely people and you were thinking that you were seeming to be out of place for it.

Cirilla informed you that she would be playing with her and the kids not far away from the tavern. You've given her a thumbs up but you were actually worried for leaving her in a place you didn't know and felt sketchy because of how it wasn't your ordinary; leaving you feeling anxious for her well-being.

Hence, the tavern didn't looked better as well. You were used to strobe lights, the smell of cigarette or sweat and the moribund heat that backs you away from stepping in a nightclub; never dreaming to come close to one ever again.

But, here you are; standing in the middle of an hostelry looking like the small elephant in the room as people who wore old-fashioned clothes and armor were staring at you like an alien. So far, they didn't know that you were actually one because you didn't belong to their world.

You were trying to find anyone you knew; even trying to look for a certain white haired man who seemed to be not in good terms with you for unknown reasons. There, you did saw him seated on the farthest end of the pub looking mighty with his sword laid beside him as he drank Ale,  listening to a man who appeared to be reaching his elderliness.

Geralt's whole being has ever been so ostentatious like you were watching a scene unfold from a television series. You didn't notice you were already observing him from afar until he'd blinked and slowly turned his head to you, eventually catching you gawking. But, being lucky at the most awkward scene of gaping at him over the other end of the roadhouse has saved you from your embarrassment when a well built villager wearing tons of heavy armor accidentally bumped into you; making you break away from watching the witcher. As the man bumped into you, his mouth was as nasty as he looked and tried to tell how peasants like you who had no crowns deserve to be sold to a brothel keeper because of how poorly you were dressed; also, probably because it was only your worth.

So, women were treated rather poorly in their era. Your consciousness talked back and gave you the reality of it all.

You were also lucky enough to catch Jaskier's attention and saved you from being sold anywhere.

As you sat down with Jaskier and his pixie friends that had elf ears; it was stunning to see a live fantasy gnomes sitting in front of you and drinking till their heart's content. You'd realize how survival was a difficult task in their world as the poor were treated like they were the lowest of the low and people with crowns were treated rather fairly.

Hence, living in their world can officially be a nightmare for you. A daydream of showing how much of a nightmare was to live back in the old times.

"So, this is what a bar looks like in the medieval period," you murmured to yourself as your eyes scanned the whole buzzing place. They were heathen people and there were loud chatters and laughter like there were tons of stories to tell; even the bard himself does as he was sat beside you; chattering with a man who weren't hobgoblins; but was sat around your table. "You sure Ciri is fine with the kids?"

Jaskier waved a hand to wash away your worries; giving you a once over as he smiled a big one, "Ow, shush. Yes she is. Stop being a mother hen and enjoy my singing out here with the lads," the bard grabbed onto his lute that was strapped behind him, swinging the instrument and actually hitting you on the shoulder before he apologized and started to strum a melody in which you've heard when he was trying to annoy the witcher who lived in the house you were in.

So, that's what its called. Toss a coin to your witcher. The bard already forcefully let you hear the song and you were pondering if people really toss coins to a witcher who slays beasts, like literally.

You playfully rolled your eyes at his attempt on entertaining people in the tavern, "Your singing sucks ass, Jaskier." But, it was actually just a playful banter because his voice was amazing, believe it or not. However, you weren't there to give him compliments and shower his ego after calling you rat for so many times.

The bard gave you a look of curiosity, his blue eyes sparkling like how the sun cascades through the oceans, "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

You tried the Ale that Jaskier has given you. You've smacked your lips a lot of times to taste it better and subtly noticed the bitter taste that it had more than a typical beer. It definitely had more alcohol content than a Heineken, "Bad as how Geralt calls your singing like a pie with no filling,"

Jaskier faked a surprise, stopping from warming up before he starts singing epics, giving you his war face and a coltish glare as he humorously spat, "You are certainly the living nightmare in my life for saying that!"

Jaskier's singing grabbed all of your attention. Thus, you were oblivious of a particular individual who was lurking behind you as he seated and talked to Durriken who continued to ran his mouth on the heed-detached witcher.

Durriken's ginger hair was shiny against the light of the sun that reflects from the windows, the elderly man shakily continued his story as he studied who the witcher was gazing at that even got him giving a damn when he ever does not, "---The villagers had seen the beast on the swamps in the south! Had my lads killed as they've stabbed it with their swords! It was a poisonous monster and wounded my people with a burn that could let ye' see their bones!"

The witcher gave a disgruntled hum, his jaw clenching like he'd seen something awful.

Durriken ceased his stories; sipping on his ale as he bluntly asked and ripped his eyes away from him with a knowing smile, "The trouble and strife, witcher?"

Geralt couldn't help but want to roll his eyes at the incessant accusations they had between the two of you; giving abrupt malice to your presence as you tagged along with them, "Why do people always tell me this," he gruffly mumbled to himself, finishing his shot of Ale in one gulp as he dropped the cup with a thud.

"Have ye' seen the way you look at er'?" Durriken's smile was unwavering as he could remember you from his dreams; like the whole scene was dejavu.

The witcher gave him a tight-lipped frown, sitting completely composed; but with his blood boiling for whatever reasons he doesn't understand, "She's been dragging me in to more horseshit than I can ever get involved,"

Durriken heedlessly caressed his goatee; seeming to be in deep thought to what his next words would sound like and if it will be better to be said rather than keep it to himself and watch the future unfold without alarming the other, "Ye' wouldn't be complaining if you realize that she's actually your destiny, Witcher."

Jaskier stopped strumming his lute after finishing one song; planting his ass on his seat as he laughed out loud with the villagers of Kaedwen. The adorable hobgoblins lending their elfin ears at the bard who had memorable tales to tell, "I've been the witcher's travel companion decades ago!"

You were unaware of somebody patting your hand like he was consoling you because of your consciousness was solely on the bard who kept on getting everybody's attention. That being so, you jumped on your seat as Jaskier hurriedly slapped the man's hands that rested on top of yours as it was laid on the table, "And---Hands off, Belerick! You don't want to vex off a witcher and have your adorable little body thrown in the swamps,"

The dark eyed gnome raised his voice to groan out his frustrations, caressing the hand that Jaskier has attacked; eyes exclusively on yours alone, "She's just so cute and my type!" Belerick mirthfully announced with his eyes giving you the hearts. You kindly smiled back at little guy, "Say, munchkin; wanna spend the night with I?"

A soft giggle was sent to the latter and it was enough for him to sigh like a man in love, "You're a cute one, Belerick." your smile softened as you saw him grin like a cutie pie and tried to reject his offer in a very nice way, "---But, I'm good for the night. There are other women out there who would want to,"

Everybody who sat on the table in a circle cooed. The spot light suddenly on you, "Aww! She's a kind one!"

The little guy irritatingly huffed, growling at his companions who kept on teasing him that he was rejected, "Nobody does, Y/N!" Belerick snapped with a bitter tone as Merek hopped off his chair and leaned his short elbows on the table; giving you a kissy face, "Aye! Maybe Y/N would want to spend the night with me a lots more than ye', Belerick!" Merek teased the other little guy who kept making a fuss, "---Cause ya' got a small dick!"

Both gnomes had their hands choking each other as they fought for your unavailable hand. You couldn't help but chortle from their sudden fight; entirely unaware of their intoxicated self controlling their minds.

Jaskier emitted a loud sigh beside you; dramatically rolling his eyes at the scene, "Oh gods, you are all signing your death wishes,"

Another giggle was sent to the people surrounding you, trying to infect them with your naivety, positivity and kindness; "You guys are cuties! Thank you for finding me...nice-looking, though I don't actually," you started again, looking at the set of barbaric men seated around you and Jaskier, "I look like a potato, boys. You need to get your eyes checked by an ophthalmologist,"

"A what?" Now was the time for Jaskier's brows to tighten.

"Ye', don't look like a potato!" Belerick and Merek uttered all together in chorus, giving you the heart eyes.

"Yet, you look a little different!" another leprechaun crowed named Carac. He had his medium length hair tied on the back in a makeshift ponytail. Carac paused for more added mysterious effect. Both you and Jaskier blinked back at him; unnerved because of how the lad was scrutinizing back at you like there was something wrong.

Until such time, he'd open his mouth and vaingloriously claimed that made everybody groan out in exasperation and utter cheesiness, "Ye' look like my future missus, Elfin!"

You and Jaskier blew out a breath you were holding; the thought of finding out you weren't from their dimension now disregarded. You've apprehensively giggled and pointed a finger at the little man giving you a smolder, "Oh, that was smooth." Carac pouted his lips more, wiggling his eyebrows in a frisky way, "Do I deserve a kiss?"

A nod of fascination was given to the latter. You've given him a grin and shook your head at his sudden twentieth century kind of flirting, "Very smooth,"

"You know, he can hear you right? He's a witcher, you oaf!" Jaskier gave the dwarf a look of disbelief before you'd suddenly stood up out of nowhere and drank the last of your ale. "I'll check Ciri outside," you declared and put down the empty cup after burping in a low tone and it was enough for Carac, Belerick and Merek to sigh like a boy in love as their eyes were trying to melt you down. Jaskier scoffed at how they looked and nodded with a smile as he waved you off, "Alright, try to keep out of trouble, rat. I'll follow you soon,"

Moments have passed and stories were told, Geralt has understood Durriken's offer as he tossed a bag of coins to the witcher in which he caught it with his bare hand, his expressions twisted in a way that can tell people he wasn't in a good mood. The real question here is; when did he ever looked like he was?

The bard was already off his seat, Geralt saw you went out minutes ago and Jaskier began to tail like a cat to the rat; even began to feel a little comfortable with you since this morning and it was slightly bothering him to no reason.

Thus, Durriken even had the chance to tell him things about destiny that even rattled him more.

"I don't believe in utter bullshit," the witcher spat to his utmost discontent, sighing as he does so. He was tired of hearing it over and over again. It even lead to having Cirilla in his life; he wouldn't want to include you as well. Especially that everybody who gets involved with him; enters demise without him knowing. It was like a link to death when one person even tries to want to know him better.

He was already having a difficult time protecting Cirilla and Jaskier from harm; it would kill him more if you had the plausibility to meet death without even coming home to your homeland.

"Destiny will always come to you, Witcher," Durriken cheerfully muttered in spite of Geralt's gloomy state; his smile never faltering, "---As much as the princess did,"

The witcher languidly closed his eyes; asking himself what he has done to receive all kind of destiny thay gives him a rough time. "Once...is enough," he seethed through gritted teeth. Annoyance ticking his features, "Twice is destiny playing fucking tricks on me,"

"It's been two years, Witcher. The elvens; they will never cease." Durriken announced as a matter of fact, trying to remember his dreams that he wanted to forget because it never fails to happen. "---Say, that elfin of yours isn't from our world, aye?" the latter added with a cunning smirk, "---She has created more chaos to our dimension. Opening a door to the continent which has never been seen before,"

Geralt's forehead creased a lot more to what he was saying, looking completely at loss. Never trying to look guilty that you actually really didn't come from their world. He didn't know if Durriken was just guessing or not and he didn't want to be cocksure.

Durriken continued, his voice lowering a pitch as he whispered; "---It is like a whole new era to the conjunction of spheres. Revealing unaccustomed beasts you haven't seen nor fought with, but has all been taught back in Kaer Morhen," he leaned his elbows on the table, pursing his lips as he eyed the witcher who gave him his unconcerned attention.

"---Her existence has created more beasts that cannot be slayed nor controlled. Warning mages, elders and sorceresses from other peculiar changes," pause. "---She shouldn't be here. But, your future has made everything possible, Witcher."

On the spur of the moment, the grandsire looked around as he was trying to find someone. Also, getting a gist of an uncomfortable feeling and a blurry image of his future. His ability already has certain limitations he couldn't control rather than years ago when he was younger.

"---Only one wish shall be required for it to be permanent," he suddenly blurted out of nowhere, eyes falling at the scowling, confused, ivory haired witcher.

"Durriken, you are talking shit," Geralt grumbled beneath his armored chest, a brow raising for the incredulity slipping through the man's words.

"I am a fortune teller, am I not?" Durriken boastfully affirmed with a shaky chuckle, "---When do I fail at reading the future?"

"Today, you are." the witcher mumbled beneath his deep breath, shaking his head at the fortune teller's intuitions.

Durriken was tapping on the table with his index finger as he looked away; like he was lost in his own world. The old man breathed a deep one as he closed his eyes and felt his temples twitching; trying to remember his dreams despite of how blurry in ended, leaving answers to himself that he couldn't quite understand, "Keep her away from a cunning queen and a greedy sorceress," he admitted with a whisper, "They'll know her existence and it'll bring you a much more unfortunate fate, Geralt of Rivia,"

The witcher studied him, waiting for him to laugh out loud for all the lies he had said. However, he received none and only a smile that tells him that Durriken was never lying from the start. His statements were processing inside his head; thinking so hard on how it was possible. You, a mere human who suddenly popped out of nowhere now had a destiny linked to his.

Impossible.

"Witchers are known to have no emotions," the ginger head, old bloke shared with no shame, "---Yet, I never believed that. You have been capable of achieving more, Geralt." he'd snapped his head to look out the door as a barbaric combatant or considering a root of the kingdom's military forces sauntered in; they were some of the people doing the dirty work and Durriken knew what was happening like he had seen this already, "---She is about to be taken as a strumpet right now by the Kaedwenias," he continued to fixate his eyes on the gallant who loudly demanded for Ale towards his older daughter at the bar.

Fate moves in mysterious ways. He'd believed that when he'd seen the witcher's future turn exactly the way he saw it; seeing how it molded and bended his beliefs like no other was a miracle. Durriken subtly pointed at the door with his thumb as he saw Geralt's face mask with aggravation, shock and disbelief. "---With your Cirilla outside. Yet, she has been saved by the purity and selflessness of your woman's heart. You owe her your life because your Cirilla was close to being captured,"

The witcher hurriedly stood up in a trice at the aforementioned warning; heedless of Durriken's smile that was filled with felicity and mischief; a mix of both when he noticed how Geralt grew tense; letting the fortune naturally go like he eventually does.

"---You will love her like no other," the fortune teller promptly delievered with sincerity. Geralt halted from drifting away, his wide-width shoulders on display as he never saw how the witcher's face was now filled with bother and perplexity.

"---Nevertheless, your beautiful destiny is always masked with an unbearable truth and thus waiting for a price to pay, Witcher."

PLEASE DON’T BE SHY AND SCREAM YOUR FEEDBACKS TO ME, TATER TOTS! HEEHEE! THANK YOU! I JUST WANNA BE Y/N SO BAD. 😂😥😣

Taglist: @alyxkbrl @himarisolace @barkingbullfrog​ @ayamenimthiriel @hellodevilslittlesister @vania-marie @spookypeachx @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us @nympeth @amirahiddleston @gabethelobster @dreaming-about-starfleet @uncoolcloudyhead @melaninstylezz @psychosupernatural @missjenniferb @dance-dreamer​ @marvelousell​​ @kingniazx​

[thomasthetankengine]

MGAU - Rosie’s Element

Characters: Rosie, Daisy, Nia, Mavis, Rebecca, Emily, Thomas (Minor), Henry (Mention), Sir Topham Hatt (Mention)

take some LORE! theres more to the magical girl squad than just weapons :0000 

Rosie and Daisy were sitting together in Daisy’s garden, watching the frogs hop past and the stream babble along and the leaves sway in the breeze. Everything was a magnificent green; flowers offered splashes of color and illuminated the bright landscape. 

“Something you get with being a magical girl,” said Daisy, “is powers.”

“What kind of powers?” asked Rosie.

“Oh, y’know, powers.” Daisy laughed at her lack of explanation. “But for real, you find your element and that element enhances your physical abilities. Ever wonder how Emily can do all those flips and jumps without breaking a sweat?”

Rosie nodded. 

“Her element is Wind. Air’s manipulated to give her boosts when moving.” Daisy plucked a flower from a nearby bush, cradling it in her hands. “Mine is Life. It’s honestly the only reason this garden isn’t dead yet.”

Rosie laughed too, leaning over to look at the flower. “What can you do with your element? Besides, well, gardening.” 

“Good question, mon amie.” Daisy poked Rosie’s nose playfully as she spoke. “And the answer is, you never know. Magic manifests itself in mysterious, fickle, uncontrollable ways.”

“What does that even mean?” Rosie asked. 

“Well...hm…” Daisy thought for a moment as she began to think her answer through. “Magic decides what it wants, when it wants, and how it wants. It’s just hard to control and will act on its own.” 

“Oh.” Rosie was quiet for a few moments. “That sounds difficult.” 

“Oui, it’s frustrating at first, but you get used to it. You adapt.” Daisy removed the petal from the flower, and another one grew in its place only seconds after. “You just have to think how your magic thinks.”

“...magic thinks?” 

“For lack of better words,” said Daisy. “It chooses what it wants to do, rather than you. I’m not sure why, but Nia said she’s been studying it.” She paused, then gave Rosie another boop on the nose with a smile. “Something tells me you haven’t figured out what your element is.”

Rosie smiled back at her. “How so?”

“You’d know at least some of this, then.”

“Alright, alright, you got me,” Rosie said with a laugh. “How do I figure out my element though?”

Daisy put her hand to her chin in thought. “I found out mine through meditation. Why don’t we try that?” 

Rosie nodded and crossed her legs and shut her eyes. Five minutes passed. Then ten. Twenty. Twenty-five. Thirty. Rosie concentrated long and hard on finding her element--or, her element finding her--but didn’t have much luck.

“I don’t think this is working,” Rosie said, finally.

Daisy shrugged. “Why don’t you ask Nia then? She’s been researching magic.”

Rosie nodded and stood up. She bid farewell to her friend and went on her way to find Nia. 

~~~

“Yeah, and then she told me to ask you, since you’ve been looking into magic,” said Rosie to Nia. Nia was hard at work repainting her engine, while Rosie sat upon the loosely constructed fence. “So...what is your element?”

“Fire,” Nia answered. She kept her focus on her work, choosing not to demonstrate her power. 

“I thought you had Wind too. Since, like, you and Emily both were good at all those acrobatics,” said Rosie.

Nia perked up. She loved explaining this aspect of her ability. “Well, it all begins with how hot air is less dense than cold air, causing it to rise. I heat the air to give me a boost! Well, my magic does, hehe.”

“Makes sense, makes sense.” Rosie nodded. She did not understand at all. “So...you and magic are separate, yes? How does that work?”

“Think of magic like...a dog. It’s its own being, y’know? But you can teach dogs tricks, like how you can teach magic to help you,” Nia explained. 

“Oh, that sounds easy!” Rosie smiled. 

“Mhm, it’s pretty quick to get the hang of. Our powers are granted by Lady, so, y’know, they like to do good things.” Nia turned around. Her overalls were stained with orange paint, but she didn’t mind. “What’s your element, then?”

“I’m...not sure, actually.” Rosie rubbed the back of her head. “That meditation session with Daisy didn’t really tell me anything, hehe.” 

Nia put her hands on her hips and thought for a moment. “Maybe you were forcing it. Magic is fickle.” 

“So, how would you recommend I find my element?” Rosie asked. 

“I found my element while working. I was having trouble getting my engine’s fire started, and boom, there it was,” said Nia. “So, maybe you’ll find yours when working on the railway. After all, Lady is a goddess of the railroad…”

“You’re right,” Rosie said, and she bid her friend farewell in order to get ready for her next shift and continued on her quest to discover her element and master her magic. 

~~~

The next day, Rosie worked long and hard on the railway. She shunted trucks and passenger cars. She brought empty trucks to the Ffarquhar Quarry, where she stopped to have a chat with Mavis while she had spare time. 

“Element?” Mavis raised an eyebrow as she took a sip of her cola. “Yeah, that came pretty easy to me, I guess. But I wasn’t working when it happened, nah.” 

“So...how did you find it?” Rosie asked. 

Mavis hummed to herself as she thought. “Well, I was arguing with my brother, and uh, well, the ground started shaking. Guess I got so pissed my magic took note.” 

Rosie blinked. 

“Yeah, it was weird.” Mavis then laughed. “I had to lie and say Sodor is on a faultline so that’s why it happened.”

Rosie laughed too, but she wasn’t quite sure why it was funny. “If I get really mad, maybe I’ll find my element,” she said.

Mavis shrugged. “Try me. Get pissed.” 

Rosie scrunched up her fists and face and thought very angry thoughts. She thought about the magical beasts threatening life on Sodor. She thought about Ska and how her physical form was taken from her. She thought about how Sir Topham Hatt was a capitalist. Her thoughts were very angry. 

Mavis laughed. “Sorry, sorry, you look like you’re taking a shit.”

Rosie stopped and laughed, and laughed, and laughed. Mavis was right. 

“Hm, maybe you should try asking Rebecca,” Mavis suggested. “She found her element in the middle of a fight with my dad.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah! Big guy came home telling me how cool it looked,” Mavis said.

And once their break was over, Rosie entered the driver’s cab of her engine and went on the search for Rebecca. 

~~~

Rosie met with Rebecca at the end of the work day back at Tidmouth Sheds. The sun was setting over the sheds, reflecting off the murky brown pond water nearby. 

“Roro!” Rebecca smiled and greeted Rosie with a hug. “Do you need something?”

Rebecca hugged too tight, causing Rosie to let out a quiet squeak. Nonetheless, she hugged back. “I’m trying to find my element, and Mavis said you might be able to help.”

“Oh, really?” Rebecca let go and tilted her head to the side. “I don’t think I’ll be of much help with this.”

“C’mon, every little bit helps!” Rosie took Rebecca by the shoulders and playfully shook her back and forth. 

“Alright, alright-!” Rebecca put her hands over Rosie’s to stop her from continuing to shake her. 

Rosie stopped and listened to Rebecca’s story. 

“Alright, so I was in a fight with Dayton, yeah?” Rebecca leaned back against the wall of the sheds. “By the beach. And he retreated into the water since, oh, let’s be honest, Daisy would’ve killed me if I got my dress wet.”

“Hehe, she would’ve.”

Rebecca kept speaking. “That was when my magic kicked in. The sea split, and Dayton was so in shock I could just walk up and whack him!” 

“It was that easy?” Rosie asked.

Rebecca nodded.

“Can we try?” Rosie added. 

“I think I’ll kick your ass,” said Rebecca, “But I don’t mind a spar.”

That was when Thomas, their coworker, walked by. “A spar?” he asked. 

“I’ve been taking fencing lessons,” Rebecca lied. “I was going to show Roro a thing or two about the basics.”

“Woah! That sounds sick!” Thomas said. “Can I watch too?”

Rebecca could only laugh and nod, though she really didn’t know much about fencing. She only knew the swordplay Nia had shown her, and she hadn’t practiced that at all. Nonetheless, she tried her best, and her best was enough to convince Thomas that she knew how to fence.

The sun then set over Tidmouth Sheds, and Rosie and Rebecca each returned to their own home to rest the night and begin tomorrow’s day. 

~~~

On her way to work the next morning, Rosie stopped to chat with Emily. Emily lived down the lane, in a neat little apartment, and over tea they spoke. Emily brewed better tea than Henry, Rosie noted. Both brewed bitter teas, but Henry’s always had a salty taste. 

“So you’re looking for your element,” Emily said with a sip of her tea. No sugar, no milk, just pure black. “I think I was the first to find mine.” 

“And how did you find it?” Rosie asked.

“Hmm…” Emily paused for a moment in thought. “I sneezed. Silly, I know, but that was when I first noticed it showed up.” 

“That’s weird. So, it was just random?”

“Yeah, pretty much. Sneezed, then accidentally made a small tornado,” Emily explained. “If you’re looking for your magic, I suggest you take it slowly. You can’t really force it.” 

“I know…” Rosie sighed. “It’s just, it all sounds so cool, y’know? Nia’s fire, your wind, Rebecca’s water, Daisy’s life, Mavis’ earth...I just am pumped to see what I wound up with.”

“And you’ll find out soon, don’t you worry. It’ll come with time,” said Emily. She gave Rosie a pat on the shoulder. 

“Waiting is boring.” 

Emily laughed. “I’m sure it is. Why don’t we go cause some confusion and delay to take your mind off of it?”

Rosie could only laugh too, and she nodded. 

That day at work, Rosie shunted slower than usual and mixed up the order of Henry’s passenger cars and trucks. Henry and Emily thought it was very funny, but Sir Topham Hatt was cross. However, Rosie was in the union, so there was nothing Sir Topham Hatt could do about her minor mixups on the rails. 

~~~

That evening, Rosie curled up in her bed after turning off the room light. She had enjoyed the past few days. She got a joke fencing lesson from Rebecca, had a meditation session with Daisy, learned about magic and elements with Nia, shared drinks and jokes with Mavis, and had fun causing confusion and delay with Emily. She didn’t know her element, but she was happy. 

She turned over in bed to turn on the lamp on her bedstand. Perhaps she’d finish reading that book Henry loaned her that night. However, just before her hand hit the switch, the lamp turned on. 

This was her magic. Electricity. With an excited grin, she picked up the book and began to read, illuminated not by the work of a power station but her own power. 

~~~

[spaceskam]

A Boy Like That

Summary: In which teenage Lan Xichen dotes on Nie Huaisang to flirt with Nie Mingjue. 

Word Count: 4,016

Warnings: implied separation anxiety

ao3

Nie Huaisang quite liked Gusu.

There were many more things to see with many more colors than in the Unclean Realm. That was all gray and boring, but the Cloud Recesses were all pretty blues and pure whites and tons of plants. The men inside were all stunning and, although he couldn’t see them, he had to assume the women were as well. Everything was endlessly beautiful. 

Including the very important person Da-ge was speaking to.

Lan Xichen stood tall and thin, his hands behind his back and his smile easy. He looked at Da-ge in the exact opposite way that he was looking at him with his shoulders back and his face permanently angry. It always was when there were others around to see. The only thing that made Nie Huaisang sure his brother wasn’t all stone was the fact he didn’t let go of his hand even when clutched his saber in the other.

“I can help you study,” Lan Xichen offered, voice just as pretty as he was, “I understand not everyone can learn by reading.”

“I learn just fine,” Da-ge said, but even he couldn’t keep his angry voice around Lan Xichen. Nie Huaisang couldn’t stop staring at him. Nothing in the Unclean Realm was like him; he was a character in a storybook who was the definition of elegance. 

“I don’t mean to insult you, Nie-gongzi,” he said, “One future sect leader to another, I think we need to work together if we want to be better than our predecessors, don’t you? Especially if it means surviving the elder sect leaders we’ll inevitably have to work with. Sect Leader Yao is going to outlive us all out of spite, I’m sure of it.”

 Da-ge let out a slow breath and looked to the side for a moment. Lan Xichen never once looked bothered. He was all patience. Nie Huaisang studied his face anyway, the smile that gave away nothing. Every single time he saw him, he had that smile. Nie Huaisang tucked it in the back of his mind for later.

“It isn’t that I can’t study, it’s that I can’t focus with my secret weapon,” Da-ge said, lifting his arm and lifting Nie Huaisang off the ground with ease. He giggled quietly and smiled at his brother. Lan Xichen’s expression changed just enough to show his complete fondness.

“Ah, I’d say he could play with A-Zhan, but A-Zhan doesn’t really play,” he said, crouching down just a little to get on eye level with Nie Huaisang, “But you’re in luck because I do.”

Nie Huaisang smiled shyly and pressed into his brother’s side.

“Xichen, you don’t need to‒”

“Let me help you, Da-ge,” Lan Xichen said, raising to his full height again. Nie Huaisang noticed the way his smile changed with his voice into something teasing. When he looked up to his brother, he saw him softening up just a little.

“If he gets to be too much, bring him back,” Da-ge said, “And he will get too much.”

“Nonsense,” Lan Xichen said, holding out his hand, “Come, A-Sang, let Da-ge study.” 

Nie Huaisang checked with Da-ge first before reluctantly grabbing Lan Xichen’s hand, but he kept a hold on his brother. He wanted to make sure this was actually what they were going to do. He didn’t really like leaving Da-ge’s side. It was always a bad idea. But Da-ge nodded and released his hand.

“Don’t cause trouble, do you understand?”

“A-Sang is not trouble, Da-ge is trouble,” he said. Da-ge glared at him until Nie Huaisang’s laughter made it go away. Lan Xichen chuckled.

“We’ll be just fine,” he promised.

Da-ge gave Nie Huaisang a once over before he reluctantly headed towards the library. He looked over his shoulder to him just once before he disappeared into the room that was full of things that Nie Huaisang could make a mess with. He felt a little nervous when he could no longer see his brother and he really thought about running after him and promising to be quiet. Lan Xichen was pretty and nice, but it wasn’t the same. What if something bad happened? 

“Don’t worry, A-Sang, we’ll have a lot of fun,” Lan Xichen said, his voice calm and reassuring. Nie Huaisang nodded and leaned into Lan Xichen’s leg. He was taller than Da-ge by just a little.

He led the way as they headed away from the buildings and into some of the pretty trees. Nie Huaisang reached out to touch the grass and leaves as he passed them, careful not to pull on any of them even when he really wanted to. Lan Xichen, oddly enough, had a much firmer grip on his hand than Da-ge. He was pretty and elegant like in storybooks, but he was strong. Maybe that’s why he’s the only one Da-ge didn’t hate.

They eventually came to a stop when they got to a small clearing with a stream nearby. Bunnies hopped around freely and Nie Huaisang watched them with wide, intrigued eyes. Lan Xichen loosened his grip on his hand.

“Now, you can play, but this is still a quiet place, A-Sang,” Lan Xichen said softly, couching down to look at him in the eye so he would understand, “This is A-Zhan’s favorite space, but I don’t think he’ll mind us playing here as long as we take care of it.”

“Yes, Lan-gongzi.”

Lan Xichen laughed softly, “That’s too formal, call me Er-ge.”

Nie Huaisang thought about telling him that was too informal, but if he told him it was okay then it must be. He nodded. 

Lan Xichen let him to the middle of the small clearing and gestured for him to sit down. Nie Huaisang watched all the bunnies hop around and he just wanted to chase them and grab them and hug them, but he knew that was wrong. So he sat and watched Lan Xichen intently, watching for what to do next. 

“If you’re very nice, they’ll be your friend,” Lan Xichen said softly, reaching out to pick up one of the braver bunnies. He put it on Nie Huaisang’s lap. “Be very gentle.”

He nodded, petting the bunny as softly as possible. It took a lot of self-control, but he tried really hard. He didn’t want to scare the bunny away.

“A-Zhan loves these rabbits. One time, I couldn’t find him anywhere I went, even here, but then it turns out he’d just been so still they’d all piled on him while he took a nap,” Lan Xichen said. Nie Huaisang looked up at him with wide eyes. He couldn’t imagine staying that still for so long. Da-ge said he kicked in his sleep, too.

“Wow,” Nie Huaisang said. Lan Xichen smiled, reaching his hand out to some of the shy bunnies. They sniffed his fingertips before hopping a little closer. “I can’t do that.”

“It’s alright. Everyone is different and they like different things,” he said, tilting his head, “What do you like?”

“I like…” Nie Huaisang said, watching Lan Xichen for a moment. He knew that he was supposed to say swordplay. He had gotten in trouble because he didn’t like swords. But Lan Xichen seemed like he might not get mad at him for that. “I like stories.”

“Stories? What kind of stories?”

“Like… Like the one where the big strong warrior saves the fair maiden and they, they fall in love and, and they get married. Or the one where the Sect Leader who was the strongest cultivator ever reached immortality and, and he fell in love with a lesser cultivator, but he spent years helping her so they could be immortal together and, and then he left his Sect to be a rogue cultivator with her forever!” Nie Huaisong said, getting a little too excited that the bunnies ran off. Lan Xichen didn’t seem bothered by it as he smiled. “Da-ge read me that one, he said it was his favorite.”

“Da-ge has a favorite love story?” Lan Xichen asked. Nie Huaisang’s eyes widened and he gasped, switching to his knees as he shushed him.

“Shhh, Da-ge said it’s a secret,” he said. It took him a few seconds before he realized he’d just shushed the heir to the Lan Sect. He was about to apologize, but Lan Xichen was smiling so maybe it was okay.

 “So Da-ge’s favorite story is of a Sect Leader and his love becoming immortal and running away together?” Lan Xichen said, smiling, “That’s very romantic.”

“Romantic,” Nie Huaisang repeated, dropping his shoulder and nodded insistently.

“I read one about a female cultivator who was so strong and wise, but she fell in love with a common man and gave up everything for him. I’ll have to find the book for you,” Lan Xichen offered. Nie Huaisang smiled wide and nodded.

“Yes, thank you, Er-ge.”

Lan Xichen smiled to the point his eyes got all crinkly. Da-ge never did that. It made him look even more handsome, Nie Huaisang thought. He wondered how many female cultivators pictured him when they dreamed of their future husband. Probably too many to count.

“What else does A-Sang like? Poetry? Music? Drawing?” Lan Xichen. He didn’t even once mention swordplay. Nie Huaisang really liked him.

“Yes! Da-ge lets me skip calligraphy practice to draw sometimes,” Nie Huaisang said, but he soon realized what he said and his eyes went wide, “But, but don’t say anything because Da-ge got in trouble.”

“I won’t, I promise,” Lan Xichen said, still smiling, “Da-ge is a very good big brother to you.”

“He’s the best,” Nie Huaisang said. Lan Xichen smiled and looked down for a moment. He almost looked a little sad. Before Nie Huaisang could say anything to make him feel better, though, he looked back up.

“Would you like to see something?” he asked. Nie Huaisang nodded instantly. Lan Xichen reached into his sleeve and pulled out a xiao. “Its name is Liebing.”

Nie Huaisang leaned perhaps a bit too close, eyes wide with intrigue. There weren’t really instruments in the Unclean Realm. They weren’t valued unless they were used in battle, which was a skill typically only used in the Lan Sect‒anything that wasn’t useful in battle wasn’t valued. He only got to see them when he ventured outside which wasn’t often. He’d never seen one so up close.

“And you use it to fight?” Nie Huaisang asked.

“I could, but the Lan Sect has many other uses for their instruments. We have songs to communicate with ghosts and songs to purify someone’s golden core and songs to help heal someone‒almost anything you can think of,” Lan Xichen said. Nie Huaisang nodded easily. Then Lan Xichen smiled and leaned a little closer. “But, if you can keep a secret, I quite like playing for fun.”

“A-Sang can keep a secret,” he promised. Lan Xichen nodded.

“I bet you can.”

He brought Liebing to his lips and played a couple of notes. Nie Huaisang was entranced. He scooted close and tried to see all the things Lan Xichen was doing. It sounded so pretty and it was so cool. Lan Xichen laughed.

“Here, look,” he said. He handed Liebing to Nie Huaisang and it felt like the biggest privilege in the world. He held it very carefully as Lan Xichen showed him where to hold it near his mouth and adjusted his fingers over the holes. “Now blow just a little bit. Not too hard. Gentle, like you were with the bunnies.”

Nie Huaisang nodded and a soft, pretty sound came from it. He nearly jumped out of his body with joy. He wanted to run around and make as much noise with it as he could, but he couldn’t because that was against the rules. So, instead, he smiled and tried to keep calm even though he was already moving. Lan Xichen didn’t seem bothered as he moved his fingers to show him another note.

They did that for a while until Nie Huaisang was struggling to stay still and Lan Xichen indulged him just a little, letting him chase around the bunnies for a few minutes. He knew it was against the rules to run inside the Cloud Recesses, but Lan Xichen urged him to get it out of his system. A-Zhan never felt the need, he’d said, but he understood wanting to.

“A-Sang should find things to entertain his hands when his body can’t run around or draw,” Lan Xichen said, “It will help.”

Nie Huaisang eyed him for a moment. It seemed like he was slowly leading in to tell him to practice swordplay, to keep him entertained. He wouldn’t know what to say to that. Lan Xichen didn’t seem like the type to particularly enjoy swordplay in the same way most disciples were expected to. He played music and read romantic stories. Was he really going to suggest swordplay?

“Does A-Sang know how to braid?” Lan Xichen asked. Nie Huaisang stared at him. 

“No.”

“It keeps your hands busy. Perhaps it will help you allow Da-ge to focus a bit more when he’s studying, it’s a very important skill,” Lan Xichen suggested. Nie Huaisang nodded and walked a bit closer to him. He sat down beside him again and stared up at him.

“Okay.”

Lan Xichen smiled and pulled some of his own hair over his shoulder, separating it into three separate strands. He showed him the proper way to cross them slowly and didn’t say a word when Nie Huaisang leaned in super close to get a better look. When Nie Huaisang took his own hair and tried to copy him, Lan Xichen offered him ample amounts of patience even as he messed up over and over. He never once got frustrated when he was playing his xiao or chasing rabbits or braiding hair. Nie Huaisang considered asking to stay here with him forever.

“In a few years, you’ll come to study at the Cloud Recesses with other disciples your age,” Lan Xichen said softly, smiling and nodding in approval as Nie Huaisang finally got the hang of the braids, “It will be very beneficial if A-Sang finds tasks that keep his hands occupied and his mind free. You have all the makings of a very strong cultivator. You learn very quickly.”

Nie Huaisang didn’t have the right words for that. He had no real interest in being a strong cultivator. He’d much rather live a life full of stories and spending time with pretty people like Lan Xichen who played music for him and helped him break the rules. But he couldn’t say that.

He had to follow the rules and he had to do as he was told.

Nie Huaisang smiled, doing his best to copy the way that he’d seen Lan Xichen smile. “Thank you, Er-ge.”

“Nie Mingjue, your Da-ge, is a very strong cultivator,” Lan Xichen went on, “One of the strongest of all the junior disciples here, but he has a bit of a temper. If A-Sang studies and practices and keeps his smile and his wits, I think the two of you could make a rather unstoppable team.”

“Like the brothers in that story Da-ge read where they fought all the bad guys all by themselves?” Nie Huaisang asked. Lan Xichen nodded firmly and smiled.

“Brotherhood is very important and so is balance. A-Sang balances Da-ge very well. The Nie Sect has had many fearsome and angry warriors‒it seems all of the light has been saved for you,” Lan Xichen said fondly. Nie Huaisang felt his cheeks grow a bit warm at the praise. “And you bring out the light in your Da-ge. One day, the two of you could be legendary leaders together. A-Sang must take care of Da-ge the way Da-ge takes care of A-Sang.”

Nie Huaisang nodded, never breaking eye contact. It seemed important not to. He never saw Da-ge as someone that needed to be taken care of, but Lan Xichen maybe knew more than him. Maybe they could.

As fun and smart as Lan Xichen was, Nie Huaisang felt infinitely more at ease when they got to the room he and Da-ge shared. He immediately barrelled into his brother for a hug and clutched him tight. Da-ge, for all his angry stares, pet his head and put a hand on his back to hold him in place.

“Did A-Sang have fun with Xichen?” Da-ge asked. Nie Huaisang nodded against his stomach.

“He taught me his xiao,” he said, “And he taught me how to braid. He said it was a very important skill.”

“Important?”

“Yes, he said so,” Nie Huaisang argued.

“I did say so,” Lan Xichen’s soft voice said. Nie Huaisang twisted his head just enough to see him politely standing in the doorway.

“Thank you, Xichen,” Da-ge said, taking his hands off Nie Huaisang just long enough to bow. They went back to his hair and his back once he was done.

“My pleasure,” Lan Xichen said, “I take great pride in being entrusted with Nie-gongzi’s most sacred of weapons.”

Da-ge hummed in a noncommittal fashion, petting Nie Huaisang’s head perhaps a little too rough. He didn’t mind as he hugged his brother a little tighter in retaliation. Da-ge never asked for hugs, but when he did things like that it usually meant he wanted one. Or, at least, wouldn’t reject one.

“Both Nie-gongzi and A-Sang should attend dinner with Grandmaster tomorrow evening,” Lan Xichen suggested, “It would be good for Grandmaster to meet you both.”

“Would it?” Da-ge asked, his tone of voice suggesting a little more than Nie Huaisang could put together. He tilted his head up to see if there was anything on his face giving it away.

Then, he remembered the way their father screamed and sent them both to punishment for little things and instilled fear in so many and yet still got praised with ‘at least he’s nicer than the previous Sect Leader’. That and Lan Xichen’s mention of Da-ge having a bad temper. Maybe that’s what it was.

“It would,” Lan Xichen said calmly, “Because then this disciple would not have to explain when I ask to attend with Nie-gongzi on my own.”

Da-ge was quiet for a very, very long time. So Nie Huaisang spoke for him.

“A-Sang thinks that’s very important,” he said, echoing the way Lan Xichen had spoken earlier in the day. The smile he got in return from the storybook-like man made it worth every effort. 

“Okay,” Da-ge said, “Okay.”

“Okay,” Lan Xichen replied, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Er-ge!”

“A-Sang.”

“Goodnight, Nie-er-gongzi,” Lan Xichen said, amusement in his voice even though he gave him a stern face and bowed deeply for Nie Huaisang to earn a laugh. He stood up straight with a smile and looked over his head to Da-ge. “Goodnight, Mingjue.”

“Goodnight, Xichen.”

Lan Xichen exited with that same ease he always carried. He seemed to float. Had A-Sang not felt his strength with his own hand, he might’ve thought he was simply air itself. The moment he was gone out of sight, though, Da-ge grabbed Nie Huaisang’s wrists and pulled him off his feet. Nie Huaisang laughed as he wrapped his arms around his brother’s neck and got a proper hug.

Da-ge breathed in deep as he squeezed him tight and breathed out. Nie Huaisang suddenly understood what Lan Xichen meant about taking care of his brother a little bit better.

“A-Sang missed Da-ge,” he said. Da-ge didn’t respond as he just held him for a little while. He wondered just how big he would have to get before he stopped lifting him in the air liked that.

He hoped he never got too big.

After they retrieved their dinner for the night and brought it back to their room, Nie Huaisang was finally allowed a bit of freedom. He ate while he talked and ate while he wandered around the room, looking at all the little things the Lan Sect put in their dormitories. He’d already looked at most of them, but they were usually too interested to ignore.

Eventually, Da-ge let him get a hold of his hair and he started adding braids everywhere he could. He didn’t fight him about or even look at him like he was angry, he just let him do whatever he wanted. He was his favorite person in the world.

“Did Da-ge study?” Nie Huaisang asked, again remembering what Lan Xichen had said as he took a bite off the spoon that Da-ge held out to him. 

“I did,” Da-ge said, “There’s too many rules and logistics here and not enough real-world application. I think I would’ve gotten as much knowledge with you asking what everything was the whole time.”

“A-Sang can do that tomorrow.”

Da-ge nodded in agreement.

After a bath and getting into their Lan-white night robes, Nie Huaisang lingered by the cot that had been set up for him when Da-ge had shown up with him attached to his side. It wasn’t usual for disciples to bring siblings too young to study inside the Cloud Recesses, but they’d made an exception after he promised to be on his best behavior. It usually meant sleeping in past Da-ge’s classes and then hanging onto his side after that.

“Sleep, A-Sang,” Da-ge said, lifting him onto the cot. He draped the blanket over him and pet his head.

Da-ge made it all the way to his bed and laid all the way down and extinguished all of the candles before Nie Huaisang slid off of the cot. He tip-toed over and crawled under the blanket, his head popping out of the top beside his brother’s. He didn’t yell at him or tell him to go back to bed, he just gave a tiny little smile and nodded.

“Er-ge looks like the cultivator from the love stories,” Nie Huaisang told him softly. Da-ge breathed in slowly.

“Does he?”

“Er-ge is pretty like them,” he explained. Da-ge didn’t answer, but Nie Huaisang reached out to put his palm on his cheek. He felt warm. “Da-ge thinks Er-ge is pretty.”

“I don’t think anyone is pretty.”

“A-Sang is pretty,” he refuted. Da-ge turned his head to look at him, smiling in that way he only did when there was no one around to say anything. Nie Huaisang smiled wide enough to make up for them both.

“You’re right, A-Sang is very pretty.”

The next morning, it only took a little persuasion to get Da-ge to keep the braids that hung around to frame his face. Nie Huaisang put a handful of random ones in his hair as well so he wouldn’t be embarrassed. It felt fair and Da-ge looked pretty.

By the time they ran into Lan Xichen, it was nearing midday. His eyes lit up and he stepped close, touching one of the braids in Da-ge’s hair.

“Da-ge, your braids! They’re so pretty!” It was the most vibrant Nie Huaisang had ever heard from any Lan disciple, even if it was teasing, and he felt the excitement grow in his chest in response.

“I blame you for this,” Da-ge grumbled, still managing that angry stare even when someone who looked like Lan Xichen was being so friendly. Nie Huaisang bounced onto his toes, laughing slightly.

“This disciple accepts responsibility,” Lan Xichen said, bowing slightly. His playful expression didn’t fade as he looked to Nie Huaisang. “A-Sang did such a good job.”

“Thank you, Er-ge.”

Lan Xichen nodded and stood up a bit straighter. He looked at Da-ge and Da-ge looked at him and they seemed to have a whole conversation without saying a word of it. It ended with Da-ge nodding twice.

“Would A-Sang like to draw while Da-ge studies?” Lan Xichen asked. Nie Huaisang’s eyes widened with excitement and he nodded, accepting Lan Xichen’s hand when he held it out.

The three of them walked to the library together and if he deliberately stayed on his best behavior when Lan Xichen leaned a bit closer to help Da-ge with his calligraphy, they would be none the wiser.

[circusredmage]

Cards and Souls // Blaise Callisto

As a child, Blaise spent much of her time sparring with the other performers of the Mythrill Magi. She’d been overwhelmed by the mysterious series of headaches that happened recently, and only found relief among swordplay. Every evening, she’d spend endless hours practicing, often choosing to train over attending her father’s performances, much to his dismay. On days where her body could no longer withstand her perseverance, she’d spend those hours in any tome she could find.

Today was different, however. Her father had courteously invited a prestige playwriter by the name of Jenomis Chen Lexentale and his theater group aboard the world-renown Prima Vista, as a way to get acquainted. At first, the young Au’ra was thrilled at the opportunity to showcase her father’s airship and the family she’d find herself so attached to. However, things took a turn for the worst upon meeting Jenomis’ son.

“He’s intolerable, Galiah”, said the fourteen year old. Blaise was fuming with anger, having to cut her lessons short once Ramza intervened. “Did you know he interrupted my lessons with papa, just to showcase his own technique?”, she frantically unbraided her hair. “I don’t understand why he has to stay one more day”.

“You know Sidan has been looking forward to this for awhile, Blaise”, Galiah scoffed. “Surely you can tolerate him a bit longer”.

“I don’t think we can even be in the same room”, she sighed. “It’s like he’s constantly finding ways to humiliate me”.

“What happened this time?”

“I beat him fair and square in our last match, and he claims I used magic against him”, she pouted. “And proceeded to call me a witch”.

“Have you considered the possibility he’s trying to win your affection? He is about your age, isn’t he?”

Blaise’s complexion turned bright red. “W-what? Galiah, please”, she unbuckled her weapon from her hip and threw her evening coat over her shoulders. “Don’t say such things”.

“I’m joking”, Galiah teased. She wasn’t surprised though, Blaise had turned into a young lady over the course of a few months, and though Sidan still referred to her as a mere child, it was far from the truth. It was becoming even more difficult for him to come to terms with it when he caught sight of the local boys stealing glances of her after practice.

Earning Blaise’s attention however, was the real challenge. She’d rather spend her evenings studying ancient tomes than spend a few minutes amongst nobility.

“If you’re not too terribly busy, perhaps I could enlighten you with a reading? Could take your mind off things?”

“Only if we stay here; I don’t think I can handle Ramza interrupting another one of my sessions”, Blaise sighed, taking a seat next to her friend.

The female elezen nodded, as she began to lay out her deck on the table. Blaise had been fond of Galiah’s tarot readings. Whenever the circus made a stop, people would seek her out in hopes of catching a glimpse of their future. She’d had Galiah attempt to read her fortune once or twice, much to Sidan’s dismay.

We should focus on what’s in front of us, he’d say, and worry less about what lies ahead of us.

“Now then”, she took the girl’s hand in hers. “What would you like the stars to seek out?”

Blaise pondered for a moment. “I’m not really sure, I haven’t thought about it”.

“Well that’s a shame. I guess that cuts our session short then”.

“No wait”, Blaise cut in. “Do you think I could ask about my training? Would papa be impressed with me?”

Galiah shook her head, looking rather disappointed. “I could tell you just about anything and all you’re worried about is practice? My dear, I don’t know if I should be concerned”, she sighed. “I suppose”.

The elezen woman closed her eyes, taking deep breaths as she reached towards the cards. Aether shined from her fingertips as her hand carefully reached for the card on the far left, sensing the celestial energy guiding her towards it. Without even glancing at the card, she muttered, “The Balance”.

Blaise stared in awe, rather unsure of what she meant.

Galiah’s eyes opened. ”The stars believe you will master your blade, it will guide you to protect those you care for. In times where you find doubt, it will be your answer”.

There was a moment of silence as Blaise glanced at her father’s weapon. A smile stretched across her face suddenly feeling reassured.

“Does that help?”

Blaise nodded. “It does”.

“I’m glad. Now you can rest assure and spend more time with us knowing this”, she grinned. “Now, let’s move on to the fun part, shall we?”

Blaise blinked. “Fun part?”

“The part where I get to look into your future and find your soulmate”.

“I’m starting to think you planned this”.

“Would you rather go back to the Prima Vista and deal with Ramza instead? I’m sure he would enjoy it”.

Blaise sighed in defeat, “I suppose not”.

“Then let us begin”, she asked for the girl’s hand once more. Blaise reluctantly obliged.

Galiah attuned herself to the cards once more, seeking out answers from the stars. “I see a soul”.

This seemed to catch Blaise’s interest.

“The stars predict your destinies will cross paths sooner than you’d expect, and from there, your journey will set its course”.

Blaise leaned back in her seat, a slight blush creeping on her face feeling suddenly flushed. An idea came to mind, “What color is their soul?”

Galiah kept her focus on the cards, flipping one over to reveal the Ewer. “A soul painted in blue”.

Blue. She kept repeating to herself. A soul in blue.

“Blaise”, a sound came from outside as the two girls looked towards the door. Galiah shook her head, “In here, Sidan”.

The tall elezen perched the door open, slipping through it as he swiftly removed the coat around his shoulders. “You were supposed to meet me half an hour ago. You promised you’d show Ramza and Alma around the Mythril Magi”.

Blaise sulked in her seat.

“Sidan, you can’t just waltz in while I’m in the middle of a reading”, Galiah sighed. “Now I’ve lost focus”.

“And what exactly was so important that you’d sweep Blaise away from her responsibilities?”

“Why her soulmate, of course”.

“Galiah!”, Blaise jumped. “I-I’ll go get ready, papa. Excuse me”. She bowed and bolted out of the room. Sidan slowly turned towards the fortune teller, eyes narrowed. “Soulmate, huh?”

“Sorry Sidan, my sessions are entirely confidential”.

He crossed his arms at her. “As her parent, I have the right to know”.

Galiah placed a finger to her lips, and made her way to the door. Before she left, she turned to her friend smiling. “Oh, and if you’re wondering...”

Sidan raised a brow.

“I can confirm the stars have chosen an elezen”. She waved at the man, leaving him alone to his thoughts.

[wormtoxin]

“Carrion Flowers: Prologue (Pt. 2)

Prologue Pt. 1 here

Her grandfather named her Luka. He had her hair cut short, and enrolled her at an all boy’s catholic school. When the boys would pick on her, he’d sit with her in his library and they’d study Machiavelli and Sun Tzu. Before long, the boys knew better. He raised her on horseback and in the fencing piste. He nourished her on food, and water, and decades worth of blood, remembered from his time in the Crusades. Then he died, and left her alone.

She stood alone in a crowd of mourners who traded stories about him. Luka had only ever met a few of them- old veterans, scarred by teeth or claws or the effects of Wildfire. Before her grandfather died, his friends would call her “ragazzina” or “caraibica”, but they always let her play poker. They’d ask how the boys at school were treating her. They’d tell her stories about her grandfather. Then, all Luka had were those stories. Luka attended the burial outside the manor where she grew up, knowing it would never really be home again. That was when Luka met her for the first time.

Viola had made her debut at court about a year ago. She’d been attending events like this since, to keep up appearances. The signor who passed on had been an important friend of her father’s from the old days, so it was important the Royal Family make an appearance. With the rise of a new political group, Yggdrasil, the Crown’s influence was in more danger than ever. It was important the King’s sweet daughter arrive, remind the people what her family stood for. She wore a new black dress for the occasion, a simple frock. Her dark skin shone in the light. Her cloud of dark hair was drawn into neat plaits. Viola’s uncle, Signor Angelo, who was with her, wore a similarly sparse black suit and coat.

Signor Angelo only said two things to Luka. First, “Are you San Giorgio’s granddaughter?”

Luka recognized her Grandfather’s old nickname, and nodded. Then,

“Do you want a job?”

———

“Buon lavoro, Principessa,” Luka smiled wryly. As Viola’s retainer, it was Luka’s responsibility to keep her swordplay sharp. Luka had been well-trained by her grandfather, but Viola’s royal education had all the money for fencing masters. Now, years after their first meeting, Viola had Luka at sword-point in the courtyard. “Remind me why you keep me around? You’re more than capable of protecting yourself”.

“Then who would be the lucky victim of my regular practice?” Viola caressed Luka’s cheek with the tip of her blade. “Besides, you’ve taught me soooo much,” she purred.

“Ah, well, I,” Luka flushed, “it’s my honor, My Lady”.

Viola withdrew her blade. “And anyways, I’ll be the Queen soon. Queens don’t fight their own battles.”

“Not even with me?”, Luka pouted, and Viola helped her back up.

“Well, I can make an exception.” Viola stood, tucked her sword under her arm, and brushed the dirt from the knees of her breeches. “We’ve got to change, I’m needed at the ball tonight. Will you be my attendant?”

Luka watched her untuck her dark cloud of hair and let it fall around her shoulders and jawline. “Of course, my lady”.

———

That night had been as beautiful and stuffy as any other royal occaision. But that evening, when they’d had enough and slipped out of the arcade, Luka would remember forever. The stars were beautiful, and the flora in the lamps had begun their soft fluorescent glow. Luka let her tie slip, her collar fall open, and hung her jacket out on the balcony.

“Would you help me out?”, Viola asked, and Luka loosened the ties at her back dutifully. Viola picked up Luka’s jacket and threw it over her bare shoulders. She untied the ribbon in her hair, tossed it at Luka, and laughed. Luka watched the wind run through her hair, and her heart jumped in her chest. She pocketed her ribbon.

“Should I get us one last drink?” Luka offered.

“I’d love that”, Viola said. She grabbed Luka by the now-loose tie, and drew her in for a kiss.

“I love you,” Luka murmured, and sauntered back out to the halls. She slipped into a side room off the main foyer, and took two flutes of champagne from one of the waiters.

“Grazie mille,” she said to him, and Luka saw she had entered the chamber where Viola’s Uncle Angelo and his friends had gathered. “Buonasera, My Lord”, Luka said.

“Buonasera, Luka”, he said. The chattering had stopped. “Where’s Viola?”

“I’m just getting some drinks”, Luka said, and patted the sword at her hip with a free hand. “Non preoccuparti, she’s safe in my care”.

“I should hope so”, he said. None of his sullen companions spoke. “With Viola to be crowned so soon, I worry for her. Yggdrasil is moving in the shadows, even now.”

“Oh?” Luka took a sip from one of the flutes, “Well let those bastards try,” Luka felt the night’s drink swell within her, “Viola’s safer than in a fortress with me!”

“That’s the spirit”, Viola’s uncle hummed. He called one of the waiters over. “Get a bottle for my niece and her guard, per favore? And that special drink.”

Luka raised an eyebrow, and the waiter produced a flask of swirling, shimmering gold. “It is a royal drink, given to the monarch before his coronation. Viola’s father had a taste from this very same brew.”

Luka held the little vial reverently. “Oh, grazie mille Zio Angelo!” Luka took them both graciously. “You’re a good man, My Lord.”

“Buonanotte, Luka”.

———

She arrived back at Viola’s bedroom. “Principessa!”

“Benvenuti, Luka”. Viola was still at the balcony, nodding off in her chair.

“Ciao Viola!” Luka collapsed next to her, and handed Viola the vial. “Your uncle says this was your father’s. Una bevanda per un Rei.”

“My father’s?” Viola held the little vial up to the starlight and watched it swirl between her fingers. “Here’s to you, papà.” She split the wax seal and downed the little drink, lips stained with glittering gold. Luka poured them each a glass of champagne.

“I take it you’re ready to be a ruler?” Luka said, and swallowed another mouthful of cold fresh champagne.

“I think I am” Viola said, tightening Luka’s jacket around her. “I was nervous at first. When father died. But now, I think... I’m... ready”. Viola clutched at her necklace, and pulled it loose with a snap. She dropped the little vial, which shattered on the balcony. “I- I think-”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-” Luka looked over at Viola, and froze. She was clutching her throat, and struggling hard to breath. When she tried to talk, she choked. Blood poured from her mouth.

“Viola!” Luka jumped to her feet, and rushed to her side. Viola stood up, the front of her gown stained red. “Viola! Viola, what’s happening?”

There was a knock at the door. Luka recognized the baritone of Viola’s uncle, the former King’s brother. “Viola, are you there? May we speak?” All at once, a cold wave of realization crashed down on Luka. She realized exactly what he’d done- what he’d made her do. 

Viola choked and sputtered on gold-stained bile, while Luka tried desperately to pat her back, help her breathe.

“Guards!” Viola’s Uncle bellowed, and soon the door was broken at the hinges. Luka cradled Viola’s cold body in the dark. Her other arm held her sword, point drawn relentlessly on the final member of the royal family.

“Bastard”, she wept, “You dirty bastard!”

“Oh god,” He said to the guards, “She’s dead.”

A guard drew his sword and approached Luka. She swung at him wildly, but her eyes never left the late king’s brother Angelo. Other guards approached her.“Luka, you’re under arrest”, one of them said.

Luka placed Viola on the ground, gently, then stood. She lunged at Angelo, blade slashing him across the face. Finally, one of the guards caught her by the wrist and threw her backwards. She stumbled, heel catching on Viola’s limp skirt, and she tripped over the princess’ slumped form. Luka collapsed backwards, sword falling from her grip and slipping off the balcony.

Angelo, Viola’s uncle killer, one hand held to his blood-streaked face, moved over Viola’s body and held her. As Luka stood, the guards moved towards her, swords drawn.

Luka gave one last look at her girlfriend. She turned, and went sailing over the railing into the fountain below.

———

Luka sat, soaking wet, in a tavern. She clipped her shoulder on the concrete basin of the fountain on her way down. It hurt, badly, and her open shirt was soaking with blood. She had retrieved her sword, at least, but it wouldn’t be long before every polizia in Verona would be looking for her. Luka wondered if there was a single Italian who wouldn’t hear what she’d done by sunrise.

She was starting to sober up by the hearth, which only meant she felt the cold chill in her bones freshly. She’d have to run. And to hide, somewhere she’d never be found. Viola’s uncle was now the only remaining heir of the royal family. He’d have the police, the military, and every eye in the nation on her trail.

Then Luka thought of him, being crowned in Viola’s place, laying her body in the royal tombs, setting flowers on her casket in the view of photographers. She thought of the speech he’d give at her funeral, regretting her untimely death, promising to take up her responsibilities, mourning the very girl he’d killed. It made Luka sick.

She stood up, dripping water all the way to the bar. “Do you have any clothes?”

“What am I, a tailor?”

“Do you have any rooms then?”

“No, we’re full. Are you just gonna stand there soaking wet, or are you gonna buy a drink?”

Luka crossed back to the fire. She watched a policeman come into the bar, and she froze. Before she could duck her head, he locked eyes with her.

“Barkeep, got any rooms?” In his voice, she recognized the familiar haze of liquor, and breathed a sigh of relief. It would be noon tomorrow before this officer woke up and heard the news, started looking for her.

“The usual is open for you, go on and collapse,” the barkeep told him, and the policeman trotted upstairs.

Luka waited until the tavern owner’s back was turned, and slipped upstairs herself. She listened to the policeman undress himself clumsily, then settle into bed. When he was snoring loudly, she carefully opened the door and snuck inside.

Finally, she opened the second floor window, adjusted her new stolen uniform, and climbed down the tavern’s facade. Her shoulder gave her trouble, and she eventually had to jump the last few feet to the ground.

Luka was careful to take Viola’s ribbon from the pocket of her other slacks and place them into the coat of the officer before she changed. It might be all of the princess Luka would see for a long while.

Luka gave the royal palace one last look, recognizing the emergency torches and the distant call of alarm bells, before she turned her back and disappeared into the moonlit alleys of Verona.

[theartofbeinganeldar]

The Art of Being an Eldar: Legolas x Reader Chapter 6

Summary: After discovering that you were stuck in Middle-Earth, Thranduil summoned a council of powerful Elves and wizards to see what should be done with you, expressing his wishes of wanting you out of his kingdom. The council decides to send you with Legolas on an orc-hunting mission, and if the Elves of the company that he deems trustworthy-- one of them being his own wife-- say that you've proven yourself worthy of staying among the Mirkwood Elves, then you can stay. The problem is actually managing to succeed...

Chapter No.: Chapter 6

Key: [Y/N]=Your Name [F/N]= Friend's Name [B/N]= Bro's Name [S/N]= Sis's Name [M/N]= Mom's Name [e/c]= eye color [h/c]= hair color [s/c]= skin color [lad/lass/y-o]= lad/laddie, lass/lassie, young one

Notes: So, I have finished the Silmarillion, and may I just say, wow. I have a whole new understanding of Middle-Earth. It's amazing and inspiring. I do miss Maedhros and Maglor already though... Now, I've finished Beren and Luthien and started The Children of Hurin next in my quest to read every book on Middle-Earth that there is, written, of course, by the Tolkiens.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, graphic depictions of gore and violence (Cuz of orc battles y'know?), more angst, slow burn, some light depression in the first few chapters, some amnesia about Middle-Earth because the Valar say you're not supposed to have foresight, hard-core language, feels, lots and lots of feels, mentions of NSFW content, maybe some eventual NSFW content, LGTBQ+ characters, Thranduil being a jackass at first because he's fabulous, Legolas being a hot edgy prince that nobody can handle, Kili being an innocent bean, Hobbits being smol innocent beans, except for Bilbo 'cause he's been through some tough shit, Bard being dad of the year, Thorin being one dumbass boi, awesome dragons, awesome Nazgul, awesome scenery, awesome stuff in general, Elrond isn't listened to by anybody, confused Aragorn is confused,  Denethor's a bitch as always, brace yourself for creepy as fuck Cream of Wormtongue Grima Wormtongue, Boromir LIVES, au to where some of the Feanorians lived, Gandalf. (yes these are all legit warnings don't judge me.)

Pairings/Ships: Legolas x Reader, Legolas x you, Aragorn x Arwen, Faramir x Eowyn, Thranduil x Elvenqueen, Galadriel x Celery Celeborn, Boromir x OC, Maedhros x Fingon, Maglor x OC, Thorin x OC maybe Bilbo you won't know for awhile, Fili x OC, etc. general LoTR standard shippings plus some of my own cuz I can't stand my boys being lonely

Word Count: I try to keep my chapters short, under 2000 words.

Rating: Teen (14+) for now

Instead of Blue-Eyes meeting you by Starlight, it was Erestor, instead. Aside from the one time you'd spoken to him with Haldir, asking him about other continents (Which, it turned out, you'd misunderstood. Beleriand had sunk, and so had Numenor and Tol Eressea, and no one but the Eldar could reach Aman anymore.), you hadn't spoken to him.

He was an older Elf, kind of intimidating, with a bird-like demeanor and an expression that said Don't fuck with me.

So yeah, you were kinda surprised.

Still, you bowed in the Elvish fashion. "Len Suilon, Erestor. Ci maer?"

"Suilad. Ni maer, [Y/N]," He assured nonchalantly. "A gin?"

"Ni maer eithro." You looked around nervously, hoping Blue-Eyes would pop out of nowhere and save you from a further conversation in what would probably be your poor Sindarin with an age-old Elf. "So, her majesty chose me for this scouting mission, eh?"

"Indeed," Erestor inclined his head. "Your Elvish improves, if slowly. You do not hesitate in your greetings anymore."

"Thank you, sir."

"Come, and lead Starlight along," Said Erestor unfairly regally, and sailed majestically away. "Have you been practicing your swordplay diligently? You may need it."

You nodded as you followed him. "Yes sir. Legolas, Elros, and Lindir have made sure that they split my day into learning Sindarin, weaponry, and even the general Elvish way of being Elvish." You tried not to sound irritated about that. They literally never gave you any free time. Not that you'd brought any books to read, and not that you could read any Elvish, but that wasn't the point.

"Good," Erestor nodded. "What are your strong suits?"

Ah, shit. "Uhm... I can throw a dagger pretty hard? I can probably shoot somebody dead if I'm point blank, but other than that, my aim sucks. I'm somewhat okay with a sword, though, and I prefer two. Why?"

"Curious," Erestor replied all mysteriously, and that was all he said on the matter.

The Elves chosen for the scouting mission-- the Elvenqueen herself, with Blue-Eyes, Haldir, and Elros-- were gathered and speaking amongst themselves, while Thorin and Dwalin next to their very dignified ponies glowered at them. Balin was feeding his own pony an apple, muttering to it kindly. Compared to the Elves, who were naturally tall and lithe, the short and stocky dwarves looked outrageously tiny.

"Ah," The Elvenqueen's attention was on you faster than a supersonic jet's. "You have arrived."

You bowed deeply. "Your majesty." To Haldir, and even to Legolas just to be safe from potential Elvenqueen-wrath-2.0, you added, "My Lords." You turned to Erestor. "I'm sorry I didn't greet you with the title, I forgot what ‘my lord’ is in Elvish."

To your surprise, the Elves chuckled. Except for the Elvenqueen, of course. "You need not worry yourself, mellonenin," Elros assured you. "You are still learning."

The Elvenqueen inclined her head. "We leave at once, if all are ready."

There were positive responses throughout, and everyone present mounted up. You caught sight of Lindir coming out of his tent for the morning, and waved; he looked confused, but awkwardly repeated your gesture. "What on Arda are you doing?" Blue-Eyes asked under his breath, like you were embarrassing him.

You snickered. "It's like a 'hi' and 'bye' gesture for when you're out of earshot of someone you know. It's called ‘waving’. Everyone does it where I come from."

"This is not your world, [Y/N]," The Elvenqueen reprimanded firmly. You fought the urge to shrink in on yourself. "If you are going to be a part of it and learn our ways, then you must do so faithfully, leaving everything you know of your world behind you. Your land is nothing but a poison, and I do not want it infecting Middle-Earth. Am I understood?"

"Y-yes ma'am-- your majesty, yes your majesty."

"Good," Said the Elvenqueen, and then she continued giving orders in Elvish, while Thorin purposefully repeated them in dwarvish for Balin and Dwalin, though everyone present spoke fluent English-- Common. For you, Blue-Eyes translated what he could before he was called up to ride beside his mother, so then Elros and Haldir took turns explaining. The whole event left you feeling like a fish out of water.

***

It was around noon when the company halted, which Thorin and Dwalin had been leading on foot, while Balin kept their ponies tied to his own. At first, you assumed, lunch, finally, I'm starving, but instead, you'd stopped because Thorin had found a trail. "Orcs," He said.

Duh, you felt like saying, what else would it be? Bigfoot?

But after the Elvenqueen's earlier lecture, you kept that to yourself.

"Which way do they lead, master dwarf?" The Elvenqueen demanded.

Thorin huffed as he stood. "They go north, but they are heavy from travel. Wherever they came from, it is not from anywhere near the northern borders of Mirkwood or Erebor."

"Where else would they come from?" You blurted out before you could stop yourself. "Are there like orcish towns in the north or something? Maybe we could--”

"There is no such thing," The Elvenqueen snapped.

"The wargs that I had tracked were from Gundabad," Blue-Eyes said calmly, as if that hadn't ever been important information before. "The ones that attacked us on the river, however, were from Mordor."

You leaned over to Haldir as Blue-Eyes continued to speculate. "I'm confused. What's the difference?"

"Gundabad wargs are darker, lithe, and more agile," Haldir told you quietly. "They are more viscous, as well. A Mordor warg is more... Stout, I suppose you could say, and slightly lighter in color."

There was a flash of color before your eyes. Suddenly, you felt as if you were in a clearing of trees, surrounded by people in dark colors, while the sound of howls filled the air, unlike the ones you'd heard before.

These are Gundabad wargs! They will outrun you!

These are Rusteveld rabbits! I'd like to see them try.

You shook your head as you resituated yourself in the saddle. Well, that was sudden... It had been quite a few days since any of the strangely-familiar visions had come to you. You came back to your senses as Dwalin laughed uproarously. "Well, that settles it, then! To Gundabad!"

"Wait just a moment," The Elvenqueen said. "We are not all brash, Master Dwalin. We will go back and retrieve more forces before even thinking of going near Gundabad." With that, she turned her silver mare around and began trotting back, Haldir and Erestor on either side of her. Thorin, Balin, and Dwalin hung back, taking their time getting on their ponies and following after.

"Where's Gundabad?" You asked Legolas quietly; not that it did any good. Elves could hear grass growing on the other side of the continent if they wanted to. "And what is it?"

"It is northwest of here, in a cleft between the mountains," He answered. "It is an old fortress, from the time when the Dunedain first came to Middle-Earth from Numenor, if you remember." You nodded; he'd told you the entire story of the Silmarils and anything that went with it or after. "It was the gate that lead to the Witch-Kingdom of Angmar."

"Lead by the Witch-King..." You finished for him automatically. An eerie echo of a voice filled your mind: No man can kill me. At his impressed look, you scrunched up your face. "And what are you, French? How'd you make that 'h' sound in the middle of the damn word?!" You realized what you said only after you'd said it, and quickly looked to the Elvenqueen to see if she'd heard. If she had, she made no sign of it. "Sorry."

Blue-Eyes patted your back. "It is fine, Sairen, you can speak to me of your world, don't worry." With a cocky smile, he looked down at you smugly. "As for the pronunciation... You will learn to do it soon."

Back at camp, a group of Elves was already up and waiting to move out, and at the Elvenqueen's ringing voice, they followed after, and you all retraced your steps back to where Thorin, Dwalin, and Balin had found the orc tracks. You considered it pointless-- they could've just taken the host of a couple dozen Elves with them that way they didn't have to retrace their steps.

Partway there, you decided that goddamn song that'd been going through your head needed a damn good explanation. Unfortunately, Blue-Eyes was now up by his mother, leaving you between two totally random Elves. You'd never been good at starting up a conversation, but you decided to give it a try anyway. "...Hey, do either of you speak Common?"

Both Elves busted out laughing as if you'd made a hilarious joke about dwarves.

"Most Eldar can speak Common," The one on the right said, removing his helmet to look at you more clearly. Whoa. You practically fell off Starlight. He was beautiful. He had long, purely golden hair that fell down his back in unfairly glorious waves. He had soft blue eyes (Not as gorgeous as Blue-Eyes', but still.) and a fair face. "It would be considered quite odd, in our long lives, if one did not learn the tongues of others."

You just stared at him. "Dude. Are you like, made of gold?"

He laughed, which sounded a lot like something naturelike and unfairly beautiful. You'd never heard any of the Elves outright laugh, so this was a weird, new experience for you. "I have been asked many things, but that is new. No, I am just as flesh and bone as you are."

"Yeah, but yours are like, plated in gold, so, you're... Wow."

He laughed again. "What is your name, mellon?"

"[Y/N.]," You replied, in a daze, then leaned over quick to the Elf on your left, who tensed and tried to lead his horse away. "Do you even see this guy?!"

You turned back to Goldie. "A gin?"

As best as he could in the saddle, the Elf placed his right arm over his chest and bowed at the waist. "I am called Glorfindel. Gellon len covad!"

"Mae l'ovannen!" You said in response.

Glorfindel smiled at you. "What was your question, mellonenin?"

"Well thanks to you and your blinding gold-ness, I forgot. Give me a minute." You thought for a second, trying to ignore the literally glowing Elf beside you. "Ah! That's it. I asked if you could speak Common so you'd understand my question. You guys have songs, right?"

Glorfindel gave you a look like you'd just told him his hair looked like an orc's. "Of course we have songs! Many, many songs! They are as timeless as we are, and we, all of us, are taught these songs from a very young age. Did you wish to learn them?"

You shook your head. "Nah. I've never been good at singing." If I sang all you Elves would shatter like a glass in an opera-room. "When I got puffed here, a song started going through my head. I can never remember all of it. Just bits and pieces here and there. But it's really bugging me. So if I told you all I could remember, think you could remember one from your Elvish past?"

Glorfindel inclined his head. "I shall answer to the best of my ability."

"Okay," You wracked your brain for the lyrics. "Okay, uh... Something about leaving home, and fading... Lots of fading. The one sentence I can always clearly remember is 'all shall fade.'" You looked at him curiously. "That ringin’ any bells?"

Glorfindel thought hard. "If by that you mean if I can remember anything similar, I cannot. If it is a song of Arda, it is not one I know, and I can remember most Eldar songs."

That caused a lightbulb to appear above your head. You gasped, wide-eyed.

"Wait! You're Glorfindel?! As in, the Glorfindel?! The guy in Gondolin who tried to protect Turgon by fighting the Balrog?!"

"Ah, Turgon... He was a good friend."

"And when it fell it grabbed your hair?!"

Glorfindel flinched. "Can we not mention that...?"

"And then you came back to life to fight Sauron?!"

"Yes--"

"The guy who was in love with Ecthelion of the Fountain?!"

Glorfindel flushed, his face going a deep shade of un-Elvish red-- on him, though, it was more of a rose-gold... "Yes, I am that Glorfindel, and I would advise you hush before you draw the attention of the Elvenqueen."

Nervously, you glanced ahead, to where the Elvenqueen sat regally upon her horse. If she or Leggy had heard you, neither of them made any indication of it. With a giddy smile, you looked back to Glory. "This is so cool. Where I'm from, you rarely ever meet anybody so important. Now I've met some of the most important people of Middle-Earth! Ooh, am I also gonna get to meet the king of Gondor?!"

Glorfindel looked confused, but amused. "Gondor has no king, and has not for many, many years. Not since the death of Isildur. Now, the stewards of Gondor keep watch over the city and uphold its laws, and await for the heir to the Gondorian royalty to show himself."

"Or herself," You specified, fighting a wince as you heard a voice echo, Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king.

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow. "Hardly ever is a mortal woman given any sort of royal duties alone. She would have to marry someone of high standing to be considered queen."

You scoffed. "Great. So the humans of Middle-Earth are assholes, too. Figured I'd escape from that."

"The race of Man is a fickle one," Glorfindel agreed. "More often than not, they are the cause of most grief in the world." He smiled. "But worry not! You are of the Eldar now, and are not subject to their torments."

You shrugged. "Good point..." You beamed excitedly at him. "Tell me about your adventures!"

He did, until the Elvenqueen gave the signal to dismount and to keep silent. You'd been so into Glorfindel's stories that you hadn't noticed that the trees had thinned out, giving way to loose, rusty-brown soil and rocky slopes. All of the Elves sailed silently over the rocks, while the dwarves trampled noisily.

For days (Which passed like extremely-long hours, and you weren't even hungry or thirsty or tired.), the procession trekked through the hills without any audible communication, until the huge hills rose up to your left and in the north into jagged mountains. You kept going, and going, and really wondered how any of the Elves that'd been left could possibly reach any of you for backup if needed in time.

On what was about noon of the week and a half mark, you came to an overlook that spread down beneath you into a huge, rocky valley, dry and desolate. There was no sign of life, and further still, about a couple days away by foot, was another tall, jagged outcropping overlooking a massive structure of bronze. Small black dots which you were going to assume were birds flitted about the top of it, and it stretched what looked like hundreds of feet into the air. You were astonished.

"We came all this way for rocky dirt and an old tower. I don't see any signs of life there." You kept your voice at a whisper, like some of the other Elves who'd began talking amongst themselves.

Blue-Eyes eyed the tower warily. "You're not supposed to."

You turned to watch him walk away. "Then what?" Blue-Eyes gave the Elves some order in Elvish, and you continued. "So we came all this way to see that it really doesn't look like there's orcs there but really, there are, so, what do we do? They've obviously got a shit ton of more orcs behind there. We're probably way outnumbered. So what do we do?"

"We," He replied, "Are going to do just what we came here to do. We're going to scout, by getting as close as we can and seeing what we can. Then we leave. It's as simple as that. If, however, we're ambushed, the rest of the procession has been following us slowly. They're only a couple of hours behind."

You frowned. You must not've gotten that memo because everybody felt the need to speak highly advanced Elvish when you only knew a couple ways to say "hi." "So what do we do if we see something we don't like? Attack?"

"If we can," Blue-Eyes told you, "But it most likely will not come to that. We simply came to see if they have larger numbers than those few who attacked us at the river."

You gave him an incredulous look with an eyebrow raised nearly to your hairline. "...Few?"

He scoffed, and walked off, giving orders in Sindarin that you only caught a word or two of. You were watching him with a glower, when you noticed Lindir sidling up on your right smugly. "...Do you not wish that you know what he is saying?"

You playfully rolled your eyes. "Ugh, Lindy, geez, can you read my goddamn mind?" You turned to mock-glare at him; he was preening. "Well? What was he saying?"

Lindir laughed and wagged a finger at you-- so Elvish. "No no no no no, mellon, I will not make it that easy for you. If you wish to know exactly what he said, then you will have to continue learning from your current point."

Your shoulders slumped. "Really? Damn. Fine, I guess, since it looks like we're camping here." And it did. Practically everyone was going around setting up bedrolls, but you seen no sign of a fire. "Glad it's warm-ish. What, we just supposed to freeze?"

Lindir gestured to Gundabad. "If we light a fire, they will see us, and our stealth will be for naught."

You gave him an odd look. "...What?"

Lindir blinked. "If they see us, our stealth will be for naught."

You stared at him blankly. "...Naught?"

Lindir suddenly looked panicked. "Do they not have that word on your world? It means the same as nothing, in this context."

You scoffed with a cocky smirk. "I know what it means. You Elves are just so damn fancy." You reached over and ruffled his strangely-perfect brown hair, to which he yelped and yanked away from you as if you'd tried to stab him. You left your hand in the air where his head had been, wide-eyed, as Lindir stared at you in shock. "Uhh... Got a sensitive spot on your head there?"

Lindir narrowed his eyes at you. "I should teach you Eldar custom as well. No Elf touches another's hair, for whatever reason, unless it is necessary, which is more than likely never to happen. Braiding and touching another's hair is considered something only for the wedded to do."

You yanked your hand away from where his head had been. "Sorry. I didn't know. Where I come from, that whole hair-ruffle thing is used between siblings or friends."

Lindir smiled softly, straightening his hair. "It is fine, [Y/N.]. You had no way of knowing. But, now I realize I must teach you language and customs-- or perhaps Elros can do that..."

You snickered to yourself, earning an odd look from the Elf. You shrugged. "Nothin', just, I've got specific Elvish teachers now. You're my language teacher, Elros is now customs, Legolas is history, and Glorfindel is music. I'm gonna be a true Elf before I know it."

"Maybe never a true Elf," Lindir laughed, "But close enough!"

You laughed with him, but on the inside, winced. You doubted if he meant it as an insult, but it hit you like one. No, you'd never been considered good enough to be a true anything, especially an Elf of all creatures, who were naturally shiny and glowy and perfect and shit. But still, for someone to confirm it, even in a joking manner, that you'd never be good enough to be a true Elf...

It really hurt.

You acted all casual on the outside throughout the rest of the evening, laughing and joking when needed, but internally, you were fighting a dull ache in your chest. You'd gotten it a few times before-- rarely, but still-- and you knew exactly what it was. The desire to fit in. You'd never had a chance on Earth. But here, you'd hoped to at least be considered a part of their realm.

Dammit, why am I so sensitive?! He didn't mean anything by it!

But what were you really doing here? Struggling to prove yourself to a race that would never accept you. To all Elves, you'd be considered an imposter, like Thorin had said. You knew for a fact you'd never be good around "the race of Man," as they put it, and even in this world, you knew you'd never fit in with them, either. At best, the Men would see you only as a rebel Elf trying to fit into the society of Man. Dwarves? Hell no. What about the Hobbit-folk? Maybe you'd at least be considered a friend to them? No, you were an Elf here. They'd be wary of you, maybe even fearful.

Maybe you should just settle for traveling like a vagabond, like Gandalf does. When everyone else was resting, you stayed by Starlight. You scratched underneath of his chin, and he rested his snout on your inner elbow, allowing you to rest your head on his, staring into his eyes and putting off a feeling of calm. "You accept me for who I am, right?"

Starlight's ears were pricked toward you, so at least he was listening. His only response was a blink. You sighed, closing your eyes. You didn't even have the security of him. One day, he'd grow old and pass away, while you lived on for eons. Carefully, so as not to spook him, you reached up and scratched behind his ears.

"Mellonenin?" Said a voice behind you. You turned to see Legolas, looking concerned. He glanced back over his shoulder, to where the rest of the Elves talked amongst themselves, even conversating a little with the dwarves. "What are you doing out here?"

You gave him a smug look. "What's this I hear, Blue-Eyes? Showing concern for me?"

He rolled his eyes playfully. "Hardly. Just curious."

You shrugged, going back to loving on Starlight. "Everybody seemed to be doing good without me. Lindir and Elros said my lessons on custom and language were done for the day, so I figured I'd spend some time with Star."

Blue-Eyes shook his head in exasperation. "I will never understand your shortening of names..." He fixed you with an expression that you couldn't quite read. "...Are you nervous about a potential battle, Sairen?"

You shrugged. "Hack'n'slash. Can't be that hard. I have played video games, y'know, and I did get here through a LARP event." You shot him a cocky grin. "I think I can handle myself. Always have."

Blue-Eyes smiled softly. "Well... I am certain you will surpass my father's standards. I have no doubt of it."

A warm feeling blossomed in your chest. Your cheeks flushed. "Thanks. That really... That really means a lot, for you to be sure of me."

Blue-Eyes hummed thoughtfully, smoothing down Starlight's pitch mane. "Your world did not appreciate you as it should have. You are a kind person, Sairen, and while at times you are eccentric, that only adds to your persona. I know that I can put my full trust in you anytime, and not be disappointed." He smiled at you. "I am glad to know you, mellon. I feel as if you were meant to be here."

For a minute, you both just stared at each other with smiles on your faces, while you felt all warm and fuzzy inside. Any upset feelings from earlier completely burned away. His pale gold hair looked white in the moonlight. Fuck, I will not cry. I will not. Not at all. Definitely not even having to try... You finally blushed and looked away, busying yourself with straightening Starlight's forelock, though the smile remained on your face.

"Damn, Blue-Eyes. You're making me blush." He laughed, and you added, "But... I'm really glad I know you too, Leggy. You've been nice to me, and actually believe in me..." You smirked at him. "That's rare for me. Thank you."

He looked almost appalled. "You do not need to thank me for taking a liking to you, Sairen. It is not as if it is a chore." Suddenly making up his mind about something, he drew his shoulders back. "Would you like to go for a ride together?"

You beamed at him. "Duh! It's a horse, of course I wanna go for a ride!"

Blue-Eyes laughed. "Come on, then, let's go. Stay close to me; we will be going in the opposite direction of Gundabad, but orcs could still roam these wilds."

You nodded as you mounted Starlight, grinning stupidly down at the stupidly perfect Elf who smiled at you. "Got it. Let's go!"

Your heart was pounding dangerously as the two of you trotted off away from camp, talking about the history of Middle-Earth, as you tried to keep from staring outright at Legolas. As your heart faltered, looking at him smiling at you as the moonlight hit his hair, you realized something...

Shit.

Tag List:

@hauntedsiriel​ @tesserphantom​ @taurlel​ @liviaolivia​ @brushwood-souls​​ @dumbladores​​ @littlefrenchfryesblog​​ @hibernatingmadhatter​​ @reclusive-chicken-nugget​​ @naryamirie​​ @legolasdeserveslove​​ @escapingthoughtsandsecrets​​ @sagabriar​​

If anyone wants to be added or if I missed anyone, please let me know!

[yukiwrites]

Trust as Their Ground

Thank you for much for the support as always, @breeachuu​! I had so much fun with this I think I got carried away askjdnlams This is a Support Chain between Wolfram x Dimitri, and you can read more about how they got acquainted in Wolfram’s series, right >here<!

Commission info HERE and HERE!

______________________________

C SUPPORT

At night

Wolfram, surprised: Oh, man, it was my turn to close up the training grounds for the day! It’s been so busy lately with all these new people, it completely slipped my mind!

Wolfram: I hope Byleth doesn’t mind me knocking on her door now to give back the keys once I close this up- Huh? Is there someone training inside?

Dimitri, on his own: … Huff! Perhaps this way is better.

Wolfram: Oh, Dimitri! What’re you doing here so late? I was about to lock you in!

Dimitri: Wolfram? Oh, has so much time already passed? Forgive me, I was a bit absorbed in today’s lesson.

Wolfram: Whoa, how long have you BEEN here? It’s all stuffy… and you’re all sweaty!

Dimitri: Ah, I suppose I am. Do give me a moment to compose myself.

Scene changes to outside.

Dimitri: Thank you for waiting, Wolfram. I hope I was not a bother.

Wolfram: Don’t worry about it, you couldn’t be a bother to ME! You’re the first friend I made here, Dimitri. Anyway, I saw how you moved back there and it looked a bit different from what Byleth was teaching? Were you incorporating it to your own routine or something?

Dimitri: I was, yes, I am surprised you noticed. The Professor has many great skills to teach us, so I must find a way to absorb it all within the swordplay I already know -- it is by adapting themselves that a knight finds the way to best use their abilities. 

Wolfram: Hmmm, yeah, I think I heard something like that from my classes with Luci-uuuh, with one of the Knights, haha! Yeah. I think I heard Catherine? Saying that? Yeah, that was her, for sure.

Dimitri, smiling: … 

Dimitri: Truly? It does sound like something she would say. Lady Catherine has amassed many a skill through her walk of life.

Wolfram, sweating: (Oh, phew, I didn’t blow it.) Y-yeah! And the way she uses her sword and stuff is really cool! I figure we could learn from her sometime, right?

Dimitri: No doubt about it. However, I do not think teaching suits her as much as knitting suits me. You should watch her during our next battle, perhaps that would be more of a lesson.

Wolfram, crestfallen: Y-yeah, the next battle… It’ll be a great lesson, sure.

Dimitri: ? You have gotten pale, Wolfram, are you feeling sick? Should I take you to the infirmary?

Wolfram: No, no, I’m fine. Thank you, Dimitri. Besides, we’re almost at Byleth’s room, so it would be a trek to get all the way up there to Manuela’s infirmary.

Dimitri: Worry not, I can carry you if you need. I’ve no lack of stamina-

Wolfram, blushing: C-carry me? N-no, it’s okay! I’m really feeling fine, don’t worry about it!

Dimitri: Well, if you say so, I shall believe. But do not hesitate to come to me if you ever feel uncomfortable, yes? As you said, I was your first friend here, right? What sort of friend would I be if I weren’t there when you needed me?

Wolfram, smiling: Thank you, Dimitri. Don’t worry, I’ll keep on relying on you a lot in the future.

B SUPPORT

Dimitri, on his own: *sighs* Yet another night sleep evades me. Perhaps I should simply take a walk outside -- dawn is still far from breaking, but the chilly air might do me better than listen to-

Dimitri: Hahh… 

Scene changes to outside.

Dimitri: The quiet of the night, much more peaceful than inside that loud room.

Dimitri: …

Dimitri: … Silence might not be truly peace-

Dimitri, running: !! What was that? The sound of wings? But those cannot be the sound of a small animal… perhaps a giant bird is delving too closely? I should be ready for batt-

Dimitri: *gasps* You are-

Wolfram, surprised: Dimitri!? I- I, uh, I can explain.

Dimitri: You have wings…? And a tail? *gasps* Wait, we should not talk like this in the open, let us go to my room.

Wolfram: Y-yeah, sure.

Scene changes to inside.

Dimitri: There, it does not seem like we were seen.

Wolfram: … Mhm...

Dimitri: Is this perhaps the reason for your ‘amnesia’? 

Wolfram: *gasps* You knew?! B-but you still believed in me and-

Dimitri: People may take me for being naive for simply being willing to believe in others, but I am no fool, Wolfram. However, there is no need to worry about your secret -- it will be safe with me, whatever or whoever you are.

Wolfram: *sniffles* I-it actually was so hard to keep this from you, since you were so GOOD to me from day one. This whole wings-and-tail and scales you might’ve not noticed, might come as a surprise, but it’s not even the most shocking part of the secret.

Dimitri: Oh? You only need to share what you are comfortable with, Wolfram. I believe in your character as a person.

Wolfram: No, no, it’s okay. You gotta know; it’s not fair to you like this AND I’ve been wanting to let you know, too, so it all works out!

Dimitri: If you are sure, then very well.

Wolfram: Actually, I came here from another world. You know, like when Byleth came out of that portal with her hair green and stuff? I came out of a similar one, from a different world than the one she was trapped in. The, uh, Goddess? Of my world actually speaks to us through my kind -- we can turn into dragons, though I can only do it partially -- and she told me this world was gonna, uh, need help. Soon. So she sent me here to help.

Dimitri: … That is a lot to take in. Not only to know of the turmoil that might shake this world but also to comprehend how shortsighted my life has been until now. New worlds? Portals? All in front of my very nose!

Wolfram: Oh, you’re taking this well. I thought you’d, I dunno, not believe me?

Dimitri: Why would I do such a thing? I have seen your wings with my own eyes and I believe in your character, as I said previously. In fact, I would love to hear more of your home world, Wolfram. Of the family you so want to talk about but hide behind your amnesic setting.

Wolfram: Heehee, I didn’t really inherit any lying bone in me, did I? My Father always tells the truth bluntly and my Mother really prizes sincerity, so it was hard to pretend I didn’t remember them.

Dimitri: I am eager to hear more, but perhaps *yawns* do forgive me, I do not know how I could be this overcome with sleep after having trouble for so long... 

Wolfram: It’s okay, Dimitri. Thank you so much for listening to me. I can stay here until you fall asleep if you want?

Dimitri, blinking: That would be…. Much appreciated… See you tomorrow, Wolfram...

A SUPPORT (POST SKIP)

Wolfram: Oh, there you are, Dimitri. Since you weren’t at your usual spot, I got a bit nervous looking for you.

Dimitri: ...

Wolfram: But I’m fast at tracking down people, did you know? I actually have a more acute nose than humans, so I could follow your scent here!

Wolfram: Now that my opening speech is done, here you go: today’s dinner. You didn’t go to the dining hall the whole day again, right? I know how harsh it is to get back to the swing of things after living in the wild for 5 years, but since we have proper food now, it’d be a waste not to eat it, right?

Dimitri: Leave me. You gain nothing by following me around like a lost puppy.

Wolfram, pensive: Hmm, but I don’t need to gain anything to be with you. You were my first friend here, and you’re the one I trust the most in this world, so just spending time with you is enough for me.

Dimitri: ...

Wolfram: (Maybe that was the whole lot of words I’ll get out of him for the week, huh.) Here, you can eat after I leave, as always. Thanks for always leaving the plates out so I can take them back, by the way.

Dimitri, turning away: ...

Wolfram: You don’t need to feel pressured to answer, you know, no need to be grumpy. I kinda got used to not having anyone to talk to these last few years, so I’m still relearning how to interact with people.

Wolfram: What I’m saying is; it’s actually better for me when you don’t reply since I can just say whatever comes to mind without having to think about replying to your reply!

Dimitri: ...

Wolfram, smiling: … You wanna know why I keep coming, right? No need to nod, I guess I can just tell. This is gonna sound random, but do you remember the first time I went with our class for a mission? It was that Remire Village; I’ll never forget its name no matter how many years pass.

Wolfram: I was so scared of all the killing and the madness around me, I could barely hold my tome right. Everything felt like a nightmare. Then you said something about ‘crushing their skulls’ and killing everyone and that- that scared me so much more than the slaughter all around me.

Wolfram: I thought I couldn’t stay by your side; I thought the darkness inside you was so overwhelming that I couldn’t believe you were the same Dimitri who welcomed me with open arms into the Officers Academy.

Dimitri: *holds breath* ...

Wolfram: But then after talking to our friends, I realized that they were both you. That you carry a burden that no one else but you understand, and that you’re still you at the end of the day, fighting a losing battle inside yourself, with your own phantoms and fears; to be the man I’ve always known.

Wolfram: So, why do I keep coming? That shouldn’t even be a question. You’re still you, though now your fight is a bit more on the outside than before. I’ll keep on being by your side and believing in you, just like how you were willing to believe in me before.

Dimitri: …

Dimitri: *starts eating*

Wolfram, smiling: …

Light flashes, flapping noises.

Wolfram: My wings got a bit bigger and stronger during this time we’ve been apart, so I can wrap one of them around you like this -- it’s how we dragonkin protect the ones dear to us during our bonding time. So don’t worry about anything and just eat, Dimitri.

Wolfram: I’ll be here with you.

A+ SUPPORT

Wolfram: *sneezes* They weren’t kidding when they said Farghus was cold during winter! Brr, I’m not built for cold weather!

Dimitri: Wolfram, there you are! Goodness, but you are shaking like a leaf -- here, take my cape, it shall help warm you up until we get back inside.

Wolfram: *sniffles* T-thank you, Dimitri. It’s spring and it’s so cold barely after sundown? I was born with scales, not fur.

Dimitri: Haha, come, friend, let us take you away from this wind. Why were you out there, if I might ask?

Wolfram: My Father sometimes told me about how my Mother would just stare at the night sky sometimes when she wanted to think -- that it was something inherent to our kind, or something. I was just thinking that that might be true? ‘Cause despite the cold, I just felt the urge to come out here and just let the stars take me in.

Dimitri: I would be troubled if they physically took you. However, I am glad that you have found a piece of home in Fhirdiad, no matter how far it is from your homeworld.

Wolfram: … Yeah. I still have a clear memory of them, though I think it’s partly due to my dragon blood, but that makes me miss them more, you know? I wake up and it feels like they were just there.

Dimitri: … Are you… unhappy here?

Wolfram: Well, I… would be lying if I said I’m truly content here, away from my family, but I am glad to be able to do my part in history.

Dimitri: My actions have made your stay much more strenuous, have they not? This is actually the reason I was looking for you.

Dimitri: I may have apologized to everyone back then, but you need to hear it from me personally.

Wolfram: Apology? But Dimitri, you did nothing wron-

Dimitri: No. Allow me this, Wolfram. I- you did not deserve what you went through -- what I put you through -- without any words of acknowledgement. So, what I am saying is; thank you. Thank you for staying by my side while I pushed everyone away. Thank you for staying by the Professor’s side during those 5 years, making sure she wasn’t hurt during her slumber. Thank you, most of all, for being there for all of us; from coming all the way from another world to help one that would sooner see you dead than accept your warm hand.

Wolfram, surprised: !

Wolfram: *sniffles* I- Dimitri, I wasn’t expecting-

Dimitri: Indeed; you weren’t expecting anything in return and yet you tried to help. You DID help. I am living proof that your warmth brought me back from the brink from where I stood- where I still stand.

Wolfram: I-I’m not going anywhere just yet, Dimitri. I’ll help you through this.

Dimitri: … I know. Thank you in advance, but I will be sure to thank you later, as well.

 S SUPPORT

Wolfram: Phew, that was a long flight. I wonder how long-

Dimitri, sweating: Wolfram! Thank goodness you’re back! I thought- everyone thought you had left for good after the war ended.

Wolfram: Huh?! I wouldn’t go without a word! How long was I away for, anyway? It didn’t feel like that long.

Dimitri: Truly? I wonder if that has to do with how you told me your kind sees the passing of time? Because you have been gone for an entire week. I was about to send out searches for you...

Wolfram: A WEEK? Gosh, I didn’t mean to take that long, I’m really sorry! I guess I just had a lot to think about.

Dimitri: *huffs* Regardless, I am glad that you are back; for some time there I felt like I had no ground to walk on.

Wolfram, blushing: N-no ground? That’s a bit too much, right?

Dimitri: Not at all. I have been bearing a selfish desire inside of me since quite some time ago, that only blossomed with your departure. I, well…

Dimitri, blushing: I wanted to ask if you’ve really must go after that ‘curfew’ Holy Naga established.

Wolfram: (Actually, the curfew was my Mom’s doing.) T-that’s… actually what I went to think about.

Wolfram: I DO need to come back home since I miss everyone terribly, but… I, well, I… fwooo… hahh… I don’t wanna leave you.

Dimitri, surprised: Truly? But you’ve told me before that the portals are not stable. How could I watch you go and wait for your return that might not happen? It is largely selfish of me, but… I do not want to let you go, Wolfram.

Wolfram, blushing: I thought about a lot of things while I was flying. I’m sure that with the help of Naga, my Mother and the others back home, we can make a long-lasting portal. Or at least get my Dad to make a gadget that can open them at will.

Dimitri: Your Father is a mage, correct? Perhaps-

Dimitri, blushing: Perhaps I can keep my hopes up, then? That you will stay with me -- that you will come back to me?

Wolfram, blushing: Hey, don’t say it like that! You gotta go with me sometime to meet everyone, too! I mean, if we’re gonna do this- I mean, this...

Dimitri, blushing, smiling: I- ah, do forgive my blunders. I forgot to say the most important words. Will you marry me, Wolfram? I love you deeply and I cannot see myself walking life without you by my side.

Wolfram: *sniffles* I was ready to ask the same thing, you know? You beat me to the punch!

Wolfram, smiling: Yes, of course I’ll marry you! We’ll find a way to connect our worlds. Together!

Dimitri: Together.

[crisesrahz]

FFxivWrite2020 Prompt #1: Crux

Hello and welcome to my first ever Tumblr post, inspired by the FFxivWrite2020 challenge! This post is the first of my submissions to the FFXIV Writing Challenge for September. 

Disclaimer: This fictional story contains scenes of graphic violence including death, and mild language. 

Thank you and I hope you enjoy!

The fridged night air blows relentlessly as the stars illuminate the blood-stained mountain. M’Crises Rahz looks over to her comrade in arms. Spyrgerma’s dark, stoic eyes focus on the Imperials before them. The remainder of Crises’ squadron lay lifeless at her feet. Four highly-trained, Immortal Flames had been sent on this mission. Now, only two remain.

As she exhales, a small plume of vapor escapes Crises’ chapped lips. She can feel the cold air biting at her lungs with each passing breath. Spyrgerma shifts his weight from one foot to the other as he sizes up his opponents before looking to Crises. “I think we got this!” the burly Roegadyn bellows with a blood-caked smile.

“A story to share with your mom over her hot and juicy ‘Surprise Meat’ Special!” Crises chuckles as she stands back up, her left leg throbbing from some unknown pain.

Spyrgerma pulls back his spear, casually resting the butt on the ground, allowing him to lean against it. “Deal! Now, how’s about I let you take lead on this one, Rahz? Teach these dogs a thing or two about real swordplay!”

The remaining Imperial soldiers nervously glance at one another. After just witnessing the slender Miqo’te dispatch five of their original fifteen, the odds seem stacked against them. One of the soldiers spits at Crises indigently “I’d like to see you try, bitch!”

Crises’ lips curl into a devilish smile “Oh, silly. I’m not a dog! But, just for that little comment, I choose you first.”

Lightning could not move this fast. Crises is on the soldier in the blink of an eye; the other men stand frozen in awe. The forceful and sudden impact from her shield against the man’s face sends him stumbling. With a whip of her hips, she swiftly brings her right leg around behind his left, causing him to fall to the rocky terrain. Spinning back around to the fallen prey, she brings up her sword to meet her left hand, grips the hilt, and drives the blade deep into his sternum. The impaled Imperial coughs up blood, his eyes growing wide as his soul departs for the Lifestream.

She would not give the others a moment’s respite. Quickly removing her blade, she leverages her hips, spinning to her right, and landing the gleaming steel at the back of her neighbor’s knees. The sheer force of her momentum, coupled with the craftsmanship of the blade, cause the solider to slump to the ground for lack of supporting limbs. His cries of agony echo across the snow-capped peaks.

With just three red and black-clad armored foes left, Crises rises. Spyrgerma joins her, spear in hand, as he barrels toward the furthest enemy.

Crises does not mind the challenge of two against one. Her pride and bloodlust swell at the thought of avenging her comrades. She calculates every move, dodging spear thrusts left and right with precise movement. She takes down one man with a well-placed slice of the neck, beginning her next attack pattern when an unexpected gunshot rings out across the windy mountain range.

Spyrgerma stands lumbering over the Imperial he had knocked to the ground; his arms raised, poised to bury his spear into the man’s chest. The downed soldier sits with arm extended, smoke rising from the small firearm he has trained on the Roegadyn. As the indolent Imperial watches the lifeblood trickle from the wound in Spyrgerma’s forehead, his face contorts into a twisted smirk.

“No!” Crises’ blood boils with rage as she watches her comrade fall to the ground. Suddenly, she feels something colder than the night’s air pierce her stomach, causing her sword and shield to fall, clanking on the rocks at her feet. Looking down, she sees the metal shaft of her opponent’s spear protruding from her torso. The sadistic spear-wielder begins to laugh at the Miqo’te’s misstep.

In a fit of adrenaline, Crises yanks the spear from her mid-section. Choking up on the shaft, she whips the poor excuse of a helmet into the man’s face with the end of his weapon. Once felled, she gives him a taste of his own medicine by driving the tip of his spear to the back of his throat through his gaping maw.

Quickly grasping her sword, Crises moves toward the lone gunman in a zig-zag pattern, dodging the oncoming fusillade. Upon reaching him, she rapidly lifts her glimmering, blood-stained steel, bringing it down to meet with his exposed neck, severing the head from his body and effectively wiping the smirk off his face.

She runs to her comrade’s side. His eyes fluttering; soul drifting in and out of consciousness.

“Spyrgerma, can you hear me? I’m so sorry. Spyrgerma!” Crises’ voice tinges with angst as she attempts to rouse the dying man.

“Rahhzz - - urr - - urrt- -” The Roegadyn musters what strength he has left to lift his oak-barreled arm and place his hand on Crises’ hemorrhaging wound.

“Don’t worry about that! We’re going to get you out of here! It’s going to be okay!” Her trembling voice betrays her confident words.

Spyrgerma closes his eyes as he begins to mumble incoherently under his breath. As he does, Crises feels her wound grow warmer, softer; the pain dissipates completely. As the large hand of the once-famed coliseum champ falls to the ground, Crises observes the flow of blood exuding from her chain mail cease. Looking back to Spyrgerma, she knows there is nothing that can be done.

“Thank you, friend” she whispers as she lays her hand on his palpitating chest. His breathing becomes ragged and thin. She sits and watches the last breath escape his lips, icy vapors ascending to the heavens.

M’Crises Rahz is an RP character I’ve been developing in my free time for FFXIV. You can find more info about her on her Carrd, at the Hydaelyn Roleplayers Coalition, and even in places she doesn’t know about!

[ranger-report]

Review (In Progress): THE WITCHER 3: WILD HUNT (2015)

The third and final (so far) game in The Witcher trilogy is big. Very big. Massive. Supermassive. Maybe I’m just a little intimidated by the depth and width and density of the game, but as of this writing, I’ve clocked in 62.4 hours on the game. That’s compared to the 48.1 hours of The Witcher and 31.5 hours of The Witcher 2. I’m closing in on the point where I’ve played Wild Hunt more than the first two games combined. From where I sit, there’s no end in sight, either; I have yet to complete the story, in addition to multiple sidequests, witcher contracts, and treasure hunts, not to mention the jawdropping expansion quests Hearts of Stone and Blood & Wine, which combined supposedly equal the length of the main story quest itself. Throw everything in a blender and pour it out, and I’ll be surprised if I eventually finish everything I’ve a mind for in under 150 hours. This is a big game. This is a dense game, packed with content every couple of miles or so, in a world where you can’t walk into a town without stumbling onto someone -- or something -- in need, and that’s ignoring the contracts on notice boards. People walk, talk, argue, cough, stumble around drunk, and get into fights with you. Oh yes, run afoul of local gangs, and they will come for you. Meanwhile, the vast open world is teeming with monsters to battle and loot, from the continual presence of drowners to the new griffins and basilisks. An overwhelming amount of content in a series that already packs plenty of content into each game. It would be far, far too much and monotonous if it wasn’t for one thing: developers CD Projekt Red write compelling material, and they know how to write a damn good story.

When the game opened up, it looked just like any other open world game I’ve ever played, and immediately I felt a pang of disappointment. I’ve done Far Cry 3, Horizon: Zero Dawn, Grand Theft Auto V, Assassin’s Creed: Origins, and like many of my gaming generation I get what to do. Seek out loot, checkpoints for fast travel, towns, fight things to get xp, ignore the “pressing” main story in favor of side quests for cool shit, yadda yadda yadda. Considering the first two Witcher games felt like original experiences in what they were trying to do, to walk into such a generic open-world framework was such a let down.

At first.

But then, something strange began to happen: I settled in. Two random quests twisted and convoluted into a connected thread, which was followed by a third main quest which circled back to this thread and elaborated on it. Suddenly a character who just seemed off her rocker was now a fearfully sympathetic human being, now seen in the light of someone else’s story. CD Projeckt Red hooked me, hooked me bad, and now this wide wide world was no longer a series of performances, it was the lives of people in this world and how Geralt affects them -- just like in the previous games. Only here, it’s bigger and wider and seemingly less connected, but it still all comes back together. Choices matter. People matter. The world itself twists and winds according to you, the witcher, and who you side with/fight for. Every other open world game I’ve played has had Things To Do, and this is no exception, but now suddenly it feels like everything matters. Before, everything I did felt like it was to further a progression percentage, to get trophies and upgrade items and simply arcade my way through a sandbox which promised “openness” but really was just all the levels of a video game laid out side-by-side so you could see them all at once instead of having to press through to get to the next one. This is the first time where I’ve really, honestly felt like I was walking through a living world, and to say that it’s captured me is an understatement. Where once I would have rolled my eyes at sidequesting in the face of a main quest where the point is to track someone down or save someone because it is incredibly important, now it feels like the most natural thing because the main quest requires you to go through some shit first. Every contract and quest met along the way furthers the main quest in some way or another, particularly when you open up new quests AFTER helping old friends, friends who now desperately need your help again, and what would happen if you weren’t there? Combine all of this with exceptional voice acting, talented writing, detailed animations, and we have compelling content literally around every corner. And that’s even when you’re just out searching for treasure or diagrams to make better witcher armor! Stories pop up everywhere, all of it interesting, even the slightest of things, and it truly crafts a distracting world to be enveloped by.

A living breathing world would be one thing all on its own, but thankfully Wild Hunt features the best-looking graphics in the series to date. I was genuinely worried that my old rig wouldn’t be able to handle a massive open-world game from 2015 without some tweaks (my desktop is old, shut up), but for the most part I’m running everything on high and it is breathtaking. Weather effects, god rays, BLOOM jesus christ I’m appreciating bloom in a video game for the very first time and I hate that I am but god fuck the first time you see the moon behind clouds in this game with bloom on, and I’m talking a full moon so it is BRIGHT and BEAUTIFUL and just. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Detailed textures and character models, the best in the series so far, a wide palette of colors (which sometimes makes the game look like a living painting, in the best of ways), absolutely masterful work. There’s the odd object-poking-through-something-it-really-shouldn’t, or the glitchy human being moving/acting/dying in ways they shouldn’t be, but that’s also a staple of both open world games and this series in general. Jank happens, especially in a game this size. It’s not as breaking as it has been in certain aspects of the first two games, and it’s mostly Bethesda-level charming. What matters though is that it doesn’t kill the experience, nor does it happen so often that it feels like the game is bugged or broken.

Combat, meanwhile, is still not perfect but it’s the best it’s been in the trilogy. Fast and furious, yet rewarding for those who have more patient skills, swordplay is easy and comfortable and versatile. Similar to the second game, one needs only turn the camera towards whichever enemy they want to attack and Geralt automatically goes for whichever monster or human is highlighted. Sometimes this can be fraught as the game will erratically highlight a different character than the one you’re facing, or will transfer the highlight to a different enemy if the one you were facing dances out of sight due to a roll or dodge or other maneuver. But it’s only frustrating sometimes; this was a flaw far more prevalent in the second game than here, and the lock-on mechanic is a godsend when paired against high-level creatures. With patience and tactics I’ve been able to competently square with beasts far too high level for me to tackle, and actually come out the victor, an idea that would be absolute suicide in the first two games. But now strategy versus simple number rolls can prevail, provided you are prepared and/or willing to have the patience to chip away while dodging for your life.

Wild Hunt is one of the few game worlds I’ve entered that feels stunningly alive. Whenever I start up the game, I am transported. Taken away. Breathlessly in awe of how real and vibrant the physical presence of the visuals on screen are. What a strange gift to behold. And, yet, aggravatingly, it frustrates me that most opinions I have encountered are that players don’t need to play through Witcher 1 & 2 in order to play this game. You certainly can, but so much context is lost. Geralt’s relationships with Triss and Yennifer and the struggles between them (that is, should you decide to romance Triss); the nostalgia and heartache of coming back to Kaer Morhen and revisting the other witchers; the friends and former alliances who pop up under vastly different circumstances; the paths taken and decisions made which impact where and how you begin this story. Wild Hunt is the culmination of a near-decade’s worth of storytelling, and the rewards for having played through the previous two games are plentiful. Nilfgaard’s invasion has extra oomph knowing where they were before, and walking through Vizima’s capital now occupied by Emperor Emhyr is especially chilling and devastating. I have no doubt that someone could pick up this game and play it and get the jist of what’s going on without playing the first two games. But will it mean as much? I daresay no. It is absolutely essential to play the first two games to truly feel the depth of impact that this story -- this world -- has to offer.

At this point in time it seems I’m coming upon some kind of resolution to the story. I’m off in search of allies to help combat a vicious foe, meaning it’s time to wrap up any side quests I still have in my ledger. There’s a lot to do. Once I’ve reached the conclusion of this game, this story, I’ll provide a wrap-up review. For now, this deep and still ploughing through, The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt is not only the best of the trilogy, it makes me want to go all the way back to the first game and play through the whole series again with different choices, for different outcomes, if only to see the roads I did not take and who was left behind. This is an amazing experience with literally hours of content to take in, and I am eager to devour the remainder.

Score (So Far): 9/10