#*While also slaying my (imaginary) enemies | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

melissa-s23 · 4 years ago

Text

Private lesson

Sumarry: Janus try to decieve himself into a timeline where he can save his friends. He does not expect reality to offer him an opportunity to prove himself.

Word count: 3127

Characters: Janus Sanders, King creativity Sanders

Warnings: Sword fighting?? Idk please tell me if you think something else should be added here.

Author’s note: MY FIRST ONESHOT EVER COMPLETED! Yes! And the honor goes to @rondoel ‘s King!AU! ( @kingcreativityau ) :D Now: are the characters OOC in this? Most probably. Do I really care about it? Only a tiny bit. I only started to post Sanders Sides content here recently, but I’ve been a fan of the series for a few months now so I had time to read a lot of fic... however I’m still not sure on what I got wrong so if you have any criticism, positive or negative, please let me know! Lastly, this was at first supposed to be an animatic (on the song called ‘This is war’) but I have NO TIME to draw and lot of time to write so enjoy! When I do get time, I might try to animate a certain part of it that I don’t think I nailed that well in the fic. Anyway, I’ve been rambling for long enough. ENJOY!!!

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

Janus stood there, in the empty training room. Since King's return, he felt very conflicted, and he hated himself for it.

The king was merciless, he cursed Patton to make him look like a toddler, he removed Logan's vocal cords, he cursed Virgil into torturing himself into deadly downward spirals, and...

And he was very spiteful, he was angry... because he'd betrayed him.

Janus clenged his fist. He couldn't help but remember the look of betray and rage that his King gave him when he discovered his team-up with Logan. Those orange eyes that could burn him down on the spot. Those oh so intense eyes... Damn it, he was back at it again. This is over now. His king was gone. Now it was the King. The tyrant. The side who hurt his friends.

He was standing in the empty room, looking at his reflection by the mural mirror. His now half-half face looked so tired. Was he really this tired ? He was probably very very tired... but he'll rest later, as the memory of his most recent wound was still fresh in his head, replaying this utter humiliation, he just couldn’t sleep. Anger soon filled him up.

He could have tried to stop him. He could have tried to save his friends, and instead he just... froze. He just let it happen like he couldn't do anything. And he knew how to fight ! He knew how to defent himself for crying out loud ! He could've done something, and instead... Nothing ! He recalled the scene, bit by bit. How Logan stood at his left, how virgil was just behind, how the king was looming over them, despite being 10 feet away from them. He remembered every movement, every word, and every second of that moment like it was written in his metaphysical blood.

And in a second, it was like he was dragged back to this hell again.

And he would not let it happen a second time.

He summoned his cane and raised it up at the memory of King. His mind wandered off now. He had to imagine how he would've react. Would he summon his sword or take full creative control to just trap him ? He wanted to think he had a chance, so he chose the sword scenario.

And just like that, the imaginary fight was on. Step forward. Left. Right. Dodge. Go protect them. Put up a fight. He would have rushed toward the tyrant and aimed for the head, the sword would've get in the way and he could uses the top of his cane to project himself back to the group. Go. Dodge. Pare. Block and Dodge and Move fast and Dodge again and Block and pare and send it back. The world was spinning around him and the fight got more and more intense. He may have his eyes closed, but he knew perfectly where he was in the room, and he was completely in his daydream. Left and Right and Block again and Forward and Left and Block and backward and spin and swing the cane for it to stop only an inch away from the face of his enemy. He would have been a threat, and he would have been able to save his friends from the King.

He didn't expect, however, to be met with the actual King in front of him when he opened his eyes.

Janus' eyes widened and he immediately cursed himself for backing up. Great. He was all about putting up a fight and a second later, he was cowering. ‘Talk about blowing smokes.’ He at the very least kept his glare from fading away. He couldn't be scared of him. He couldn't show it. He was simply surprised... He had to make that a challenge for him, Deceit was not a side you could see right through, after all.

« You seem to have a quite... Interesting dancing style » King spoke, an almost mocking grin showing as he looked down at Janus. Crap. Did he knew ? Was he there the whole time ?

As the tyrant lift his hand, Janus snaps back into reality, setting his guard up and putting a stronger grasp on his cane. Only for the object to sudenly float in the air, shining with bright light and transforms into a sword that Janus grabbed back before it falls on the floor. This left only more confusion in the half-snake, confusion which turns into alert when he lifts his gaze back at the King only to be met with another blade. He jumps back.

« W... What ? » Janus was lost.

« Wouldn't you try and learn an acutal fighting technique ... » King's voice was composed, but also slightly amused at Deceit's confusion.

«... instead of the poor travesty I just witnessed ? » until it all vanished in favor of annoyance.

Janus tried to process the words as King switched his position for a dueling one. His sword in front of him, his torso on the side and his feet dug on the ground. Was he.... what ? What was happening ?? One thing sure was that he invited Janus to mirror his behaviour. And so he did, taking a deep breath, and standing still while carrying his sword to cross the others. And before he figured out what to do next, King took three blows and sent Janus' sword flying through the air and crashing on the ground.

« Whoa wHoa WHOA ! Hold on ! » Janus lifted his hands in defense and gulped as the blade of his enemy got dangerously close to his throat.

He then heard a chuckle, and the blade finally got away from his neck. « It was just too tempting. » He snapped his finger and the sword flew right back to Janus' hand, who was still confused.

« Alright, for real this time, I let you give the first blow. »

Janus hesitated, still not sure if the scene before him was really happening, but quickly composed himself. He came back to mirroring King's posture and came with a serious expression. He quickly analysed how he could start and how he could win the fastest. When he assumed to find a way to win quickly, he lifts his sword up and went for it.

Boy, was his assumption wrong.

He thought he'd move faster, but the moment the sword swingged on the left, King's weapon caught him off guard, and it only took two quick slays for Janus' to fly in the air again. He felt baffled and humiliated. And the amused smile from his opponent didn't boost his ego at the moment.

« How ? » He didn't understand. Even his instincts weren't nearly as fast as the King, and the tyrant didn't get the chance to train in years !

He only got an arrogant giggle in response before the sword flew back to Deceit's hand. Janus frowned deeper and dug his feet in the ground, ready to jump. King did not miss, nor cared for deceit's threat.

« Again. » He simply ordered. He only had to move his arm to be back to his initial position. Was there a point to it ? Or did his tyrant just liked to put him through this childish show of superiority ?

For some reason, Janus obeyed.

And lost.

Again.

« Try again. » the King ordered.

The other obliged.

After the 4th time the sword flew back into the yellow side, he had to face it : This was happening. King was training him to sword fight. And he just... accepted it ??? What ?? How was this happening ? Usually, he would try to bite back, make some remark, try to hurt him, but here he just... went along with it. And King seemed pleased with that. He looked...content. He looked satisfied with giving Janus private lesson. This moment... against all odds... felt... not as bad as he expected.

The more they fought, the less cold the tyrant was, and the less tense they both get. King stopped trying to bring him to his knees and instead looked like he a professor, excited to give his student something to work on.

Of course, he would never admit it, but in this instant, in this moment of intimacy and challenge devoted from any animosity... It was calming, it was like a fresh wind coming after a heat wave of chaos, and the adrenaline that came from the fight was giving him enough energy to savour every second of it.

Wait.

No.

No no no no no.

He wasn't enjoying it. He wasn't enjoying it at all. He could not appreciate what was happening : the sadistic bastard was bellitling him and humiliating him right now ! And worst part is ? He couldn't even do anything about it ! Because King is so freacking good at sword fighting and Janus' main weapon has been turnd into a sword for crying out loud. There was no time to lust over past relationship !

And another game lost.

« I told you to pay attention to what was happening high up. Looking at my chest is not going to do much if you want to predict where or when I'm going to hit next. I thought you'd know that. »

« I was simply lost in another train of thought, I hope you could forg- »

DON'T.

FINISH

THIS WORD.

'You be submissive, god dammnit.' He thought to himself before clearing his throat and returning to his cunning voice. He had to keep his distance.

« I don't need you to tell me that. I was simply lost in thought. Do you really I am this much of an idiot ? »

« Well, you didn't prove me otherwise yet so. » He chuckled low and got ready for yet another one. « En garde. »

Even though he couldn't hide the joy he was feeling at the moment, he could mask it behind his usual calm appearance.

« And how many times are we going to do this ? » He asked, his tone playing between teasing and bored

«Until you get some actual fighting skills. » King answered, playing along.

« Ouch. I think I prefer the wounds caused by your sword. »

« Well then hurry up and grab your weapon. » Damn it. Why did they seem to get along of all sudden ?

« As you wish. This was merely a warm up. » he lied

« I do not doubt it any second. »

And just like that, the conversation became non-verbal again.

…

Truth be told, neither knew how long they've been fighting. Was it an hour ? Three hours ? 20 minutes ?

Truth be told, neither cared.

All janus knew is that he was getting better and better, almost becoming a challenge to the King , and the other side seemed glad to step up and fight with more intensity.

And both completely forgot to hide their excitement.

Janus started to tease king, even when he was clearly losing, and the other responded with as much sarcasm and complicity. The two glared at each other with malice and playfulness the whole time. And both couldn't help but smile.

And just like that, it felt as if they never left each other.

When he was younger, Janus and his king would play around with wooden swords, roleplaying like two ennemy seeking vengence in the most childish way. Janus sometimes would fake losing so he could see his king's proud smile which was worth losing 10 times again. His king would sometimes lose and janus would feel a feeling of acomplishment that was very strange to him, in a pleasant way. And at the end, they would most of the time lay down on the green grass and just talk about everything and anything.

And right now, he felt like he was playing with his king. Only the swords weren't made of wood anymore, and it was more professional. But still, it felt the same.

And it felt ...pleasant.

He could hear himself laugh just like when he was younger, and if he listened closely, he could feel king chuckle just like his king.

And it felt … nice.

From the talk, to the movement, both were on edge, calculating every move and waiting for an opportinity to strike. It was an amazing strategy game combined with pure raw strenght. And King's fighting style was both very classical and yet creative. He was very crafty and Janus only had to rival with his own tricks. They were in the moment, living fully the present.

And it felt...

And dear lord, it felt so, so good.

He could feel himself fly as he dodged, he could feel fire in his vein when he was about to strike down, he felt his head spinning, yet everything around him was so crystal clear, it was like a dance. A disturbing, aggressive, cold and passionate dance.

A dance...

They used to dance before.

His king and himself.

Most of the time, when they were done fighting, they would lay down on the grass. Most of the time.

Sometimes, he could have the biggest honor of all.

'Now, my dear, would you enjoy a waltz with me ?' his king offered his hand

-'I don't want to step on your foot again'

-'I told you you didn't hurt me ! Come now, it's not your job to be scared.'

despite his defensive approach, he adored those dances.

-'Alright, I'll dance with you. '

How did it go again ?

1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3.

Left, right, right, wait no, was it left again ?

1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3

step up, forward, step back, and one turn and another. His king would have his hand on Janus' shoulder and Janus would have his hand on his king's waist. And they would dance, and the music filled the air, and his king would have made a room just for them to dance.

1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3

Turn around, then left then back up.

1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3

Then caught in their trance

1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3

They would just spin around, and turn and spin and spin again and everything was spinning around them and they could only see each other and the whole world was spinning and it was just them. Just the two of them.

And they would smile and they would laugh and everything was still spinning around them and it was blissfull, passionate, affectionnate and in they would join their hands once more and their finger would interlace and once their hands was only one thing, they would lift it in the air with bravery as a victory for their hapiness.

And he would lift his hand in the air, with his king.

And they would lift their hands, hold together, in the air.

And they would yell a victory choir.

King's sword fell on the ground.

And he had his hand on King's chest.

Oh lord, he was too close to King.

Their faces were only two inches apart.

And Janus visibly forgot how to breath.

King was staring with wide eyes, clearly not expecting Janus to send his sword flying nor getting this close. None of them dared move an inch, and none of them could breath.

What... what just happened ?

How could Janus get so caught up in his dreams that he erased whatever was happening in front of him ? And how did this stupid dance from years ago helped him beat the King to his game ? And how could he, despite everything, try to search for his king's eyes in the tyrant that stood in front of him ?

Right now, the King's red and green eyes were flickering into orange glimps and his look was just tearing Janus up from the inside. He looked ready to cut his throat open if he had his sword in hand.

And yet …

For only a moment, only for a single instant, did Janus find his King shining through the side in front of him.

Sadly, this bloom inside of Janus' heart got cut fast as thorns grapped him and pulled him far away from his The King, and before he realized what was happening, the thons just gripped tighter and tighter, making Janus unable to hide the jolt of pain.

He struggled, trying to get away from the grasp, but they only tightened and eventually, he stopped, gasping for air. He tried to look back at the tyrant, who was simply observing with a serious expression, the joy of the past moments seemingly dissapeared the moment Janus got too close. And now, he was back to being a threat. Without looking away, he move forward, with slow steps. Janus tried to manage a sentence but the pain was too high for him to form anthing coherent. Eventually, The King was in front of Janus, and the yellow side swore he was about to get killed right on the spot, but instead he just kneeled down, grapping back the sword that flew away.

Oh.

He got up and, with the other hand, brushed over the blade. Without looking away from it, he spoke : « You fought well. » He lift his eyes to meet Janus, struggling not to faint, and determined to look at him with rage. The corner of his lips twiched into the smallest of smirk and he turned back, opening the gap between the two.

And as the King took his steps, Janus' eyes widened, realizing what King was about to do.

'No.'

'No. Not again.'

'Don't leave. '

'Please'

'Don't leave me again. '

He turned into a snake to got away from the thorns and rushed towards him, ready to grip his cape. Anything. Anything but that. He was so close...

But the thorns got Janus back before he could make it.

He couldn't even hear his own grunts of pain. All he could listen to was the sound of footsteps, and a windblow that made King dissapear. Janus froze in place.

And the silence that grew in the room was deafening.

After what felt like an enernity, the thorns let go of Janus, who simply fell on his knees shaking. He hugged himself as hard as he could, and curled on himself.

He tried to fight back tears that wouldn't stop to threaten to fall.

And none of them ever left his eyes. Just like no wound ever left his heart.

------------------------- WHOOOOOO What a ride! This was really fun to write and the challenge of putting words on the visuals your head come up with is certainly something. Now, I hope you didn’t expect things for them to get better just like that, huh? ;) There is too much they need to discuss before being close to make peace, so that’ll have to wait! I have other ideas for those two so I’ll see if I get motivated to write it out. Hope you liked it!! :D

#Sanders sides #fanfic #janus sanders #king creativity #Kingceit #fanfiction #King!AU #rondoel #swordfight #The begining of Janus being a pinning disaster with a lot of emotional bagage #probably OOC #not a happy ending #Janus being a nostalgic little man #and King being conflicting as always #most probably screaming internally at the dramatic disaster in front of him #It's not easy being the king of a himbo's brain

443 notes · View notes

conaionaru · 4 years ago

Text

Woman’s game (Ivar the Boneless + Hvitserk)

Who is in control?

Synopsis: Skuld’s family leaves for the Mediterenean so she spends some more time with Ivar before he leaves as well.

Warnings: toxic relationship, casual sex, little bit of smut, talk of personality disorder, hints of sub and mommy kink, attempted good girl kink

Masterlist

I don’t own the gifs.

Today would be the day Bjorn set out on his journey, bringing everyone willing with him. Ylva sharpened her weapons peacefully, praying to the gods to keep her sons and daughter safe. The girl, of course, spends the day with Ivar once again. Loving the way the boy hangs onto her every word and challenges her right back.

So it was obvious that she slept with Ivar again. Out of all the men in Kattegat right now, her youngest had to choose Ragnar's son. Once upon a time, even Ylva found Ragnar worthy of her bed. But she was married and had too many children. All Ragnar ever wanted were sons to carry on his legacy; what a joke it would be if Skuld would be the one to carry on Ivar's?

What felt like a thousand years ago, she lest her beloved husband to Ragnar's whims. And so all her attraction to the handsome king faded as well. Now, whenever she drank, she dreamt of all the ways of paying him back.

But the great Ragnar Lothbrok was very capable of destroying himself on his own. Taking a second wife, not raising his son, nearly killing his youngest, and abandoning them all. Now he was just a shell, while she has everything: children, loyal followers and allies, riches, and a throne.

All her children made her proud, and the older they got, the prouder she became.

Egil was their first child and looked like his father with his fair hair. Very responsible, but he had her anger and temper. How proud she was when he presented Liv to her. His lovely wife gave him a daughter soon enough. And the glory of battle overshadowed the need for an heir. Liv was, of course, too content to tell him she wanted more children. So Egil sailed to possibly imaginary lands and left Liv and Kara to watch after the earldom.

Gunne was a troublemaker since birth, so keen to annoy people. He had no problem with women or battle. So when he settled down with Hjordis, Ylva believed her a witch. But he grew calmer and boasted about his pretty wife that could dance the whole night away and never tire. Out of all her good daughters, Ylva liked the cheeky Hjordis the most.

Another favorite was Þórfríðr, Stigandr's wife. The third born was everything Ylva hated. Silent, shy, and unsure. Þórfríðr charmed him because she knew what she wanted and told him to do the same. The only place he was sure and precise was the battlefield. People may underestimate him, but in battle, he would always win.

Despite being the fourth son, Brandr worried about his siblings the most. He had a pure heart and will of steel. No luck with finding a wife and giving Ylva more grandchildren, but that's not everything in life. What matters is that he survives and lives on.

Haldor may not give her any grandchildren, but that doesn't matter. His curly hair and adorable smile warmed her heart the first time she saw him. He didn't scream like the others, only whined and snuggled closer. That attitude never really left him.

Skuld was the youngest. A little bit spoiled, but she was where Ylva bet her money on. She was wicked, intelligent, and brave, so much like her mother. Sometimes, Ylva worried for Skuld's mind. The girl didn't cry either when she was born. There had only been silence. But the babe wasn't dead; it just looked around with tired eyes, silently judging everyone. The more Skuld grew, the stranger she seemed.

She didn't follow cry when she fell; friends always surrounded her that she didn't care about and had no problem with violence. At first, Ylva thought it was her brothers' fault, but when she found her eight-year-old cutting herself, she knew it wasn't the truth. Apparently, she wanted to see how blood looked like up close, and Brandr ran away before she could find out.

Over time, her behavior lessened, and all that was left behind was charm and cunning. But sometimes, Ylva saw the same dangerous glint in her eyes as that day. And yet, she thought of Skuld as her best child. Her youngest had the best chance of moving up in the world and becoming successful.

That's why she allowed this charade with the Ragnarsson. As long as Skuld was enjoying herself, the danger of her violent side was low. And a Prince was better than the usual company she kept.

"Aren't you a confident virgin?"

"I am not a virgin anymore; you know that," Ivar growled into her ear, flipping under him and changing the slow teasing pace that she set. "Are you not enjoying yourself?"

"I had worse." Skuld teased, wrapping her legs around his waist so he can go deeper, and scratched her nails down his nacked back. "But I also had better. So speed up, Ivar."

The Ragnarsson growled like a feral beast and bit into her collar bone to ground himself. With rougher trusts, he made the headboard bang against the wall so even his brothers will hear. He wanted them to remember the sounds and prove he was a man, and Margrethe just wasn't worthy of his cock.

Not like Skuld, who took his dick like she was born to do it. When she wasn't naked around him, she joked with him and smirked like a sly fox. To think that he didn't want her anywhere near him not even two days ago. And now, after round four, he felt like he found himself the perfect match.

"How about now?" He whispered into her ear; she didn't answer, probably didn't even hear him with how loud she was moaning. With one last high pitched moan, she shuddered under him and came. He followed five trusts later and collapsed next to her.

"A shame you will leave soon. Your mother will probably give me the cold shoulder the moment you sail off."

"Why?"

Skuld chuckled and rolled over to drape over his sweaty torso. "Her darling boy is leaving on a dangerous journey. And he chooses to spend his last moments home, fucking the guest."

"Mother had me my whole life. It's only fair you had me for a little bit. I am doing what she asked of me before you came here." Ivar chuckled and pulled her closer, careful not to touch her back. She had limits just like him, he never showed his legs, and she never turned her back to him or let him touch it. Whatever the reason, he didn't really care as long as he got laid. "I am being a good host and paying you attention."

"How nice of you." She teased back, sitting up and leaving his bed again. This time not only to drink something like before. She picked up her discarded orange dress and put it on.

"You leaving already?"

"I have places to be. They are sailing away today, remember? I can't warm your bed for the whole day. I need breaks too."

"Not necessarily. You can still walk. That means you can come a few more times."

Skuld smirked at him and brushed his hair away from his face. "I created an insatiable monster."

"You could sate the beast like a good girl." Ivar tried the words, waiting for any indication that she liked the new kink. But Skuld chuckled and trailed her hands down his chest to paw at his cock.

"Or you could take what is offered and stop complaining like a spoiled brat. Be a good boy and get dressed." She drew her hand away from his lap and left him alone, looking dazed from her words. With a chuckled, he threw the furs off and left his bed.

Skuld walked to the shore where everyone was already present. Haldor was chatting with another man who enjoyed the attention. Her brother had some fun before he was supposed to leave as well. Good for him.

"I was worried you wouldn't see me off, Sweetheart." She turned on her heel to see the Ragnarssons standing there, waiting for their mother to stop talking to Harald and say her goodbyes.

"Maybe I came to take you to Valhalla before you could slay any enemies. Who are you to know?" Hvitserk grinned at her bold joke and moved closer to her.

He leaned to her ear and whispered softly. His breath lightly teasing her skin. "A shame I didn't have as much fun as you did. You are rather loud, you know?"

"I am aware, thank you. Thank the gods your brother will leave soon. Otherwise, I will die of exhaustion."

"I could talk to him if you want," Ubbe suggested only for her to shake her head.

"Let him. I am sure you were all the same. I still see the insatiable spark in your eyes as well." With the last sentence, she turned her eyes to Hvitserk, who was not hiding the fact that he ogled her chest. The second oldest smirked at her, no hints of shame, watching her as her oldest brother whisked her away.

"Another Ragnarsson, really? Isn't one enough?"

"If I were you, I would worry more about my survival than my sister's bed friends."

Egil rolled his eyes at her attitude and led her to the rest of their family, waiting for her. "Why, you think I won't make it? Do you truly have so little faith in me? Who do you think I am?"

"I think you are an idiot and annoying. Now leave me be, Egil." She seethed back at him and strode over to the rest of their family.

Ylva smiled a sad smile at her and drew her youngest to her. With uncharacteristically soft hands, she took her face in her palms and stroked her cheeks. "Stay close to Aslaug. She won't let anything happen to you."

"How can you be so certain? She has no place in her heart for anything other than her sons and wine." Skuld rolled her eyes at her mother's advice. She still saw the plan to leave her behind as a stupid decision.

It would have been better for Skuld to stay in Yugar and rule in her mother's place, instead of the three good-daughters that had the duty now. Placing her in Aslaug's household was a strategic move, a sign of trust and peace. If the Queen were to break it, she would face the rage of the Lioness and her five ferocious cubs.

"Maybe not, but she is clever and knows how to avoid war. Our relationships have strained enough thanks to her husband. The very one she despises as well. So going against him and entrusting you into her hands..."

"Is the perfect way to give her a sense of power with her hands still tied." Ylva nodded and kissed Skuld's hair as one last goodbye before departing for her journey. She hugged all her brothers as well. No matter how annoying they would get, they were family. And family always supports each other, especially if possible death looms over them. And with their tendency to get hurt in battle, this may be the last time they see each other.

"Keep your wits sharp, Skuld. May Freya protect you." Gunne whispered into her ear and passed her something wrapped in a cloth. He winked at her as he departed and sailed away.

Skuld's face was devoid of all emotion as her family grew smaller and smaller. In Kattegat, she was a stranger and probably rumored a whore. How much easier it would be for her to leave in the black of the night and return home—seeing Kara running around covered in mud while Liv scolded her halfheartedly. Hjordis stitching on the loom while Þórfríðr mocked her shaking fingers alongside Skuld.

But Ylva made a choice and gave her an order, if Skuld were to disobey, she would be punished. The last time she did it, her mother placed guards outside her door that chased away any lovers. Not even the thralls were allowed to be by her side. And that was only for being late to a meeting with another Earl.

When the small dots on the sea were gone, Skuld retreated to her family's hut. She sat down near the gone out fire and unwrapped the gift from her brother. Inside the cloth was a simple dagger with a wooden handle. It was light and easy to manipulate.

"Keep your wits sharp, huh?" She held the blade up for closer inspection and smirked in delight. It was a truly perfect gift. Skuld settled the dagger in her lap and teased her fingertips over the edge.

Skuld tucked the weapon away in her corset and left the silent hut. First, she must gather allies. And the best way to do that is to mingle with the common folk. Finding sympathies in Aslaug's court would be impossible; right now, the only trump card she holds over the Queen is that she saw her son naked.

The people in the market watched her walk by; she sent them smiles, playing the brave, lonely Lady. Slave traders, slaves, merchants, farmers - all useless to her right now. A merchant's ship would be a good escape in case of need. But they move on too fast, and she can't strike a deal with every boat that comes here. What she needs are whisperers. Little unseen things that will tell her all they know. And won't tell a soul they tattled to her.

"Margrethe! I would say it's fate that we meet, but that would be a lie. After all, I live where you work." The blonde slave smiled at her and shifted her hands in unease. "Would you like to walk with me?"

Of course, the girl had no other choice but to do as told. And so, Skuld led her away from the crowd by the arm. Smiling the whole time innocently. "Say, Margrethe... Does Ivar still bother you?"

Margrethe shook her head but still looked uneasy. She looked up at the taller female and leaned closer as if to tell a secret. "Did he...Did he hurt you?"

Skuld chuckled and pulled the scared girl closer to whisper into her ear. "In a way. But nothing I didn't like. Did he hurt you?"

"Yes."

Skuld frowned at the revelation. "Since the feast?"

"No... I only see him during meals. He doesn't even look at me." Margrethe confessed and looked at Skuld in confusion. It was weird of a foreigner to question thralls like this. The only one who ever asked her if she was okay was Sigurd, and he fucked her right after.

"That is good. I saw how uncomfortable you were that night. And I felt sorry. I also wanted to apologize for my flirting. I was drunk and wanted to lighten the mood. But I think I just made you more uncomfortable."

"It is alright."

Skuld shook her head and let Margrethe into an empty alley away from prying eyes. "Ivar is a cruel person, as we both know. And it would be better for everyone if they didn't know what we know. Or he might become even worse."

"I don't know what you are talking about." Margrethe denied, fully well knowing what the Earl's daughter was talking about. There was only one thing connecting them, and that was that they both slept with Ivar. Or attempted to in the thralls case.

"He told me, Margrethe. There is no need to deny it. And we don't have to talk about it. I know that night must have been scary. I just want you to know not to tell anyone."

"I told." The blonde whispered, scared, her eyes terrified. Skuld wondered what the cripple Prince did to her after he failed to get hard. A simple failed fuck would scare her so much. "I told Sigurd."

Skuld bit her lip at the dumb girl's actions. Scared or not, seeking refuge by the brother that spat venom at Ivar was stupid. One argument, and he might use it against Ivar, leaving Margrethe as the only possible source, especially when Skuld told the brothers that she and Ivar had no such problems.

"Don't worry. If Sigurd thinks you a liar, he won't spread the news. All I must do is prove them wrong. I did most of the job already. Just a few more things, and he will think Ivar more than capable."

"And how will you do that?" The wide eyes blonde stepped closer to Skuld. Trying to hear what plan the young female hatched.

Skuld leaned into her ear and whispered slowly, watching for any possible interruptions or witnesses. "Go to a healer and ask for Moon tea. Mention my name as often as possible. Ask for some herbs against pains as well. Say he left marks, and I ordered you to go there. Say anything that might sell the story, bruises, bite marks, even blood."

"Tell some slaves as well - the ones that spread the most rumors. I will walk with a slight limp and wince when I sit down. Moan and scream louder than before so everyone will hear. If they ask you what happened that night, you tell them naught. Deny any accusation and seem shifty. As if you lied about the whole thing."

Skuld pulled away after she was done whispering and watched the thrall try to remember the plan. "That will work. Thank you."

"No need to thank me. We, strong women, should work together. That's the only way we might survive men like Ivar. Always one step ahead. If there is anything you know that could help us..."

"The Queen..." Margrethe trailed off, not sure if she should tell or not.

"Yes..."

She swallowed and looked around as if the woman would jump out at any moment. "She isn't fond of you. This morning she ordered Ivar to stop seeing you, but he protested and said he wouldn't. She thinks you a spy or that you have ulterior motives. Hvitserk just thinks you horny."

"That's more or less it. I am also bored and want Aslaug to regret her choice of taking me in. I could be at home annoying my good-sisters and niece instead of diddling her darling son. But thank you for the information anyway. I will remember your words well. Now go before someone finds us."

Margrethe ran off as Skuld watched her go, a deep sense of satisfaction sets in. Playing kind and concerned was as easy as breathing by now. Faking what people want to see or hear is easier than others think. Soon enough, they turn into little birds, fluttering around and gathering whispers and rumors—easy pray and yet useful. The more they believe you protect them and care for them, the more loyal they become.

During the night, Ivar sat next to her, propped on one arm. He was leaning over her with a frown on his face and kept pestering her. "Then why did you come to my bed if you don't want to sleep with me?!"

"I was lonely." Skuld shrugged her shoulders and looked at him with a teasing smirk. She was not hiding the fact that she is lying right into his eyes. "And maybe I wanted to be toughed kindly instead of being mauled by a beast."

Ivar looked away from her and laid back down. Refusing to even look at her as a spoiled child would. "Oooh. Don't be like that, Ivar. I want affection, give me some, and we can play." The young Prince continued to look away, pretending that he didn't hear her.

Skuld pulled a face at his stubbornness and rolled onto her side to catch his gaze. "Don't make me beg..."

"If you keep being difficult, I won't get in the mood at all..."

Skuld rolled her eyes, and forcefully turned his head to her. She held his cheeks in a tight grip, digging her thumb into his jaw in a warning. "I don't like being ignored, boy. So either you pay attention, or I will leave you to play all by your lonesome. How embarrassing would that be, huh?"

Ivar watched her with nearly black eyes, charmed by her rough treatment, and hissed words in a fake sweet tone. "What do you want?"

Skuld smirked and loosened her grip a little, caressing the tender spots with her thumb instead. "Hold me for a bit, and you can do what you want later on."

"Anything I want?" Ivar rasped out, looking like an addict with his drug right in front of him but still out of reach. She smirked in victory and patted his cheek mockingly.

"Within reason and boundaries. You do anything I don't like, and you will be punished. I am not a slave; remember that." The Ragnarsson nodded and pulled her against his chest, stroking her auburn hair with uncharacteristic gentleness. Maybe he wasn't a lost cause after all and just needed a firm hand.

After the cuddles, Skuld kept her promise and let him fuck her how he wanted. The boy saw some positions that he wanted to try, so they had a few rounds before they were both spent. As Skuld laid on her back with Ivar sleeping with his head on her chest, she watched the shadows on the ceiling.

Her dagger was on the floor, buried under her dress. For whatever reason other than brotherly worry, Gunne thought she needed a weapon. What he knew, he didn't tell. But there was something big coming if he was worried for her safety enough to arm her.

Ivar whined on her chest and buried his head deeper between her breasts. One of them hidden under his calloused hand, sleepily squeezing the boob. She sighed and scratched her nails over his scalp to lull him back to sleep, choosing to rest as well.

#vikings #history vikings #ivar the boneless #slow burn #Hvitserk Ragnarsson #Hvitserk #hvitserk lothbrok #ivar #ivar ragnarsson #ivar lothbrok #ivar imagine #vikings imagine #hvitserk imagine #original character #original female character #ivar x oc #hvitserk x oc

40 notes · View notes

canvas-the-florist · 5 years ago

Text

A Side Worth Fighting For

Ship: Romantic Roloceit

Warnings: Cursing, Verbal fighting

Summary: Logan and Deceit are fighting over Roman until the two come up with a much better arrangement. Thanks @royal-must-slay I really appreciate you letting me use this! Sorry it took me so freaking long.

Word Count: 2.2K

It all started as things often do in the Mind Palace, Patton made a pun. Something at the beginning of the video to kickstart the Sanders Sides episode. But the issue with it was Roman laughed. He kept apologizing through his laughter to Thomas but couldn’t stop. He was leaning on Patton and couldn’t stop laughing. An unadulterated, snort-filled, pure laugh. Logan blinked as he himself seemed lighter. Deceit looked like he was filled with contemplation. They were both looking at Roman with awe. Like they were always in love with Roman and this was the awakening of it. Something about Roman being free from his self-consciousness and being truly happy… Caught both of the two’s eyes. Before however, they caught each other's.

That’s when the competition began to gain the love of their fellow side, Roman.

A few days after the video was published, Roman found a letter addressed to him outside his room door. The handwriting was cursive but strangely neat and readable. The only thing going through his mind was about how strangely romantic it felt to receive a handwritten letter. He closed his door behind him softly before collapsing on his bed, screaming into the nearest pillow, sitting up, and taking a calm breath.

“Okay, I don’t know if it’s romantic or not. I need to stay calm and read this thing.” Said Roman, clearly not calm in any capacity. He drew another slow breath and opened the letter quickly because the anticipation was already killing him.

Dear, Darling, Salutations Roman,

It had come to my attention that you, metaphorically, could kill a room with your smile. You could of course, literally kill a room with your smile but you do so metaphorically. This letter is an attempt to rebound my feelings upon you. I hope you understand that if you do not reciprocate these emotions I am experiencing I shall cease immediately.

Roman, you have caused me to experience shortness in breath and a lightness in my head in a positive manner. I have gained the knowledge that these are symptoms of a hypothetical crush. The idea of me containing this ‘crush’ on you for over two months is high in probability. I have not the words to describe emotions, I never do, but I am aware that I wish to court you. If this is acceptable I would appreciate a response. You are a lovely and valuable person Roman, and I would find it most agreeable to express positive and romantic views with you.

Love, Warm Regards,

Logan

It was a short letter but careful detail was in it. Obviously, the letter had been written in pen so some words have been crossed out. If it was Virgil who wrote it, there would be no way that Roman could tell what the words were. But, Logan kept the lines almost perfect. Annoyingly so. He felt his heart rate quicken as he read the words written just for him. He felt touched and flattered. Of course, it was okay for Logan to ‘court him’ as it was stated. Roman decided that maybe responding again through another letter would be best but didn’t want to sit down. His mind and heart were racing as he paced around in his room, pondering what to do. He hadn’t really been hit on by anyone, and he certainly didn’t expect Logan to be the first person to do so.

But before Roman could do anything there was a knock on the door. His brow furrowed before he opened the door. Another object on the ground that Roman could easily pick up. Nothing that hid in an envelope, but a box. A gift, possibly?

He shrugged and placed the box on his desk, just to take the top off the box. It revealed a red cape. The cape was stunning and happened to be fitted to his height while leaving room for any running he may do. Roman, of course, put it on immediately to see how he looked. Though, it wouldn’t matter how he looked because his glowing face said everything you would need to know about how he perceived it. Creativity checked the box for any indication for who sent it. Maybe Logan? But he didn’t seem like the type…

Ah! A small piece of paper! How intriguing.

Roman flourished his hand before reading it. Which was really just a buffer to mentally prepare himself as he couldn’t remember a time he felt as pampered as he did that moment. He closed his eyes before looking down. “I can do this, I can do this.” Roman encouraged himself, definitely not feeling like he could do it. Dear Hamilton, how could it be so hard to do this? He was the Creativity and Ego of Thomas! Roman could look at one slip of paper, easily. So he did, difficultly.

Roman,

Meet me at 11 PM

In the Mind Palace Courtyard

Don’t be late

Hmm, that wasn’t ominous at all. But, curiosity was getting the best of him and Roman was really intrigued. So if it meant following a shady note, he would be fine with that.

Logan was composing letters to Roman. Along with that, he was planning on spending time with Roman, just listening to everything the beautiful man had to say. Logan was going to be honest, he didn’t realize how in love with Roman he already was until the start of the video. Which is over now. He had been researching love languages, to decipher his own as well as Roman’s. But it quickly got out of hand as he found himself trying to figure out Deceit’s as well. Who he had personally thought of as his enemy in the metaphorical love triangle. Well, what he assumed was a metaphorical love triangle. Logan wasn’t really sure.

As he continued his research he heard a side rise up in his room. He turned around, keeping his outward composure to hide the fact he was shocked out of his mind. It was, “Deceit, a surprise to see you here. What do you want?” Of course, his ‘rival’.

“Oh, not here to mock you or anything.” Deceit gave his obviously practiced ‘evil villain’ laugh. His face suddenly lost all that emotion as he made eye contact with Logan. “I don’t plan to date Roman, and you certainly have a chance against me. I’m obviously not the better match for him either way. But, might as well say hello to my competition.”

The logical side took a few seconds to take in the lies and translate in his head. “Falsehood,” He responded, stepping in front of Deceit, making the side step back as if he was intimidated. “Roman is his own side and either one of us could be rejected. I have done researc-”

Deceit scoffed, “Of course, because every potential partner wants to be psycho-analyzed.”

Logan adjusted his tie while he rolled his eyes. “You don’t scare me, Deceit. And even if you did, you would still fail against me. So,” He stepped forward. “You should know that I have every intention to woo Roman and your means to do the same would stop that.”

An eyebrow raised. “Scared? No, that isn’t my plan. You don’t need to be scared of me. You just need to get out of my way to let me attempt to have my love reciprocated.” Deceit clapped his hands together with a simple laugh before he made eye contact once more. Logan blinked as he was walking backwards into the wall. Deceit gave no indication of realizing this. Neither of them realized the new figure at the door. “Roman is independent and wonderful, so if either of us two could get with him it would be a feat. But, if any side is lucky enough for that, it sure as hell won’t be you.”

Just as Logan opened his mouth to rebuttal Deceit, he was cut off with a side clearing his throat. Deceit and Logan turned their heads to see Virgil leaning against the door frame with an unimpressed look. “I’m not even going to mention how homoerotic you two seem right now, but…” Virgil closed his eyes like he was in pain for what he was about to say. “You guys know that Roman has two hands, right? Does it need to be a competition if you could work together?”

They made eye contact, both considering within their own heads. Logan and Deceit shrugged as Virgil walked away.

“You were going to invite him to dance tonight, right?” Logan asked.

Deceit nodded. “Have a plan?”

“Have a plan,” Logan affirmed, secretly hating the words as soon as he said them.

There was no guarantee to who would show up in the courtyard of the Mind Palace. Probably not Logan, and if Roman was being honest with himself, he hoped it would be Deceit. Neither of the two dolts ever noticed his pining. But, he wore the new cloak just in case the sender would recognize it. Roman hoped so, at least. He fiddled with the edges of it as he walked through the palace gates, and to the courtyard. Taking a breath, Roman opened both of the doors. He looked up at the stars in the sky and when he lowered his head he saw two figures. Almost romantic but also startling him in the jumpscare sort of way.

He decided to waste no more time, so he lifted up the bottom of his cape and ran towards the other two sides, ready to find out the faces. Roman reached the two and loosened the grip on his hands. Logan and Deceit… Just the imaginary men he wanted to see. He let his smile show as Logan placed a record on a record player. Roman’s mind didn’t dwell on it as Deceit offered his hand.

“How about a dance? With the two of us?”

Roman took the hand. “What? You have a way to slow dance with three people?”

Logan took Roman’s other hand. “We’ve done research, Roman, I’m sure we can teach you as well.”

So they danced together. The dancing was awkward and slow at first, but after failing and laughing through it.. It didn’t matter if any of them were good at dancing, or knew what they were doing (although Logan protested it wasn’t him that broke the routine), it was just fun to dance with other people. Roman laughed his intoxicating laugh the moment he tripped over Deceit’s feet, only to be dipped by Logan and his quick thinking. Deceit helped the two up and all of them continued to do a poor excuse of what is technically considered dancing.

After they flipped the record over it and it played its final song, they all took seats on one of the benches at their disposal. Roman made a stupid joke and laughed about in into Logan’s arm. Once his laughter stopped he sat back up to get a better look at both of them.

“Thank you for this… Both of you, though I’m pretty sure that this was Bill Lie the Snakey Guy’s idea. I think both of you are pretty epic and great.” Roman said softly, switching his eye contact between Deceit and Logan. He looked down at his hands. “But I’m still not quite sure what this all means. Is this romantic? Or am I getting the wrong vibes???”

“No, we slow danced with you until one AM because we want to be your best buds!” Deceit feigned enthusiasm as he rolled his eyes. Roman groaned and punched him lightly in fair spirits.

Logan blinked, confused at what was happening before him but decided to move on. He coughed to bring awareness to him. “What Deceit was intending to say,” He gave a sideways glance to Deceit, who returned it with an all-knowing smirk, “is that we like you romantically, Roman. And if it would be okay-”

“Would you like to date us?” Deceit finished.

There was a moment of silence. Logan drew in a breath he forgot to let out. Roman seemed slightly taken back but he was trying to get his words together as quickly as he could without taking too long and scaring his fellow sides. But the moment he tried to say something it came out as sort of a verbal version of a keyboard smash. He started laughing to hide his embarrassment but, noticing that it made Logan and Deceit more concerned, he quickly stifled it. Roman cursed under his breath. “I’m sorry, words aren’t exactly mine at the moment. So, my dears, I would love to date you.”

The night ended with a hug between three imaginary embodiments of deception, logic, and creativity. A good, long hug that turned into Roman holding the hands of Logan and Deceit as they made their ways to one of their rooms. It doesn’t matter which one yet. All Roman remembered after he woke up was the warmth of two extra people in an embrace that made him feel the safest he’s ever felt.

Taglist: @royal-must-slay @shitpost-sides @id-rather-go-live-in-a-trash-can @potereregina @itriedandimtired @brokendaughter666 @deebare10 @witchcraftwestan

#roloceit #roceit #logince #loceit #writing #emile writes #a side worth fighting for #roman sanders #logan sanders #deceit sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #sander sides fanfiction #ts sander sides #loginceit #romantic roloceit #romantic loginceit

287 notes · View notes

aion-rsa · 4 years ago

Text

Top New Fantasy Books July 2020

The Book of Dragons: An Anthology by Jonathan Strahan

Type: Anthology Publisher: Harper Voyager Release date: July 7

Den of Geek says: I’m always looking for a good book about dragons, and this incredible list of authors promises adventurous and unique stories. Anne Leckie, Zen Cho, Seanan Maguire, J.Y. Yang, Patricia A McKillip, Brooke Bolander … it’s an astounding, literary-flavored list of people qualified to write cool creatures.

Publisher’s summary: Here there be dragons . . .

From China to Europe, Africa to North America, dragons have long captured our imagination in myth and legend. Whether they are rampaging beasts awaiting a brave hero to slay or benevolent sages who have much to teach humanity, dragons are intrinsically connected to stories of creation, adventure, and struggle beloved for generations.

Bringing together nearly thirty stories and poems from some of the greatest science fiction and fantasy writers working today— Garth Nix, Scott Lynch, R.F. Kuang, Ann Leckie & Rachel Swirsky, Daniel Abraham, Peter S. Beagle, Beth Cato, Zen Cho, C. S. E Cooney, Aliette de Bodard, Amal El-Mohtar, Kate Elliott, Theodora Goss, Ellen Klages, Ken Liu, Seanan Maguire, Patricia A McKillip, K. J. Parker, Kelly Robson, Michael Swanwick, Jo Walton, Elle Katharine White, Jane Yolen, Kelly Barnhill, Brooke Bolander, Sarah Gailey, and J. Y. Yang—and illustrated by award-nominated artist Rovina Cai with black-and-white line drawings specific to each entry throughout, this extraordinary collection vividly breathes fire and life into one of our most captivating and feared magical creatures as never before and is sure to become a treasured keepsake for fans of fantasy, science fiction, and fairy tales.

Buy The Book of Dragons by Jonathan Strahan on Amazon

Or What You Will by Joe Walton

Type: Novel Publisher: Tor Books Release date: July 7

Den of Geek says: Jo Walton is a writer’s writer, highly praised but still generally skating under the radar. I found her 2014 My Real Children to not nearly live up to its very high concept, but she’s one of those authors with technical prowess who is at least worth checking out for context for women’s science fiction. The metafiction plot sounds fun.

Publisher’s summary: He has been too many things to count. He has been a dragon with a boy on his back. He has been a scholar, a warrior, a lover, and a thief. He has been dream and dreamer. He has been a god.

But “he” is in fact nothing more than a spark of idea, a character in the mind of Sylvia Harrison, 73, award-winning author of thirty novels over forty years. He has played a part in most of those novels, and in the recesses of her mind, Sylvia has conversed with him for years.

But Sylvia won’t live forever, any more than any human does. And he’s trapped inside her cave of bone, her hollow of skull. When she dies, so will he.

Now Sylvia is starting a new novel, a fantasy for adult readers, set in Thalia, the Florence-resembling imaginary city that was the setting for a successful YA trilogy she published decades before. Of course he’s got a part in it. But he also has a notion. He thinks he knows how he and Sylvia can step off the wheel of mortality altogether. All he has to do is convince her.

Buy Or What You Will by Jo Walton on Amazon

The Adventure Zone: Petals to the Metal

Type: Graphic Novel Publisher: First Second Release date: July 14

Den of Geek says: The Adventure Zone is a wildly popular humorous fantasy podcast. It’s part of the big 2010s wave of Dungeons & Dragons coming back into the geek space. Especially for someone who might not want to listen to hundreds of episodes of a podcast, the illustrated version does a good job of smoothing out the story into a graphic novel format without removing the goofy chaos of the original podcast.

Publisher’s summary: START YOUR ENGINES, friends, Clint McElroy and sons Griffin, Justin, and Travis hit the road again with Taako, Magnus and Merle, the beloved agents of chaos from the #1 New York Times bestselling graphic novels illustrated by Carey Pietsch, The Adventure Zone: Here There Be Gerblins and The Adventure Zone: Murder on the Rockport Limited.

Our boys have gone full-time at the Bureau of Balance, and their next assignment is a real thorny one: apprehending The Raven, a master thief who’s tapped into the power of a Grand Relic to ransack the city of Goldcliff. Local life-saver Lieutenant Hurley pulls them out of the woods, only to throw them headlong into the world of battle wagon racing, Goldcliff’s favorite high-stakes low-legality sport and The Raven’s chosen battlefield. Will the boys and Hurley be able to reclaim the Relic and pull The Raven back from the brink, or will they get lost in the weeds?

Based on the beloved blockbuster podcast where three brothers and their dad play a tabletop RPG in real time, The Adventure Zone: Petals to the Metal has it all: blossoming new friendships, pining for outlaw lovers, and a rollicking race you can root for!

Buy The Adventure Zone: Petals to the Metal

The post Top New Fantasy Books in August 2020 appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/30f7KEw

#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

2 notes · View notes

headoverjojo · 6 years ago

Note

Since Tumblr really likes to swallow my request, could you please do some HCs for La Squadra di Esecuzione as fathers? ;) Thank you and good luck with your work

How you know me well, Medusa, hitting right on my softest spot, aaaaaaaah

La Squadra di Esecuzione as fathers

(Under the cut for lenght!)

Risotto Nero

Risotto is already used to deal with his often childish boys, so he’s not scared by parenthood. He’s trained, he’s ready and he tries his best to be more present both for his s/o and their child: he doesn’t want to be remembered as an absent father.

His child is his treasure and the light of his eyes. When they’re a toddler, he loves to keep them in his arms, safe on his chest: his warmth and calm heartbeat always lull the little one to a peaceful sleep.

The more the child grows, the more Risotto learns about the unique love that bonds a father and his child; he’s here when they take their first steps, when they start to talk. He loves to read them tales and children books before sleeping and to help them with their homeworks when they need it.

He’s the proudest and most supportive dad ever. To an outsider it could seem that he behaves exactly like always, but his child knows him too well. They can see the small smile that thugs his lips and how soft their father’s strange eyes are. Risotto makes sure to always make them feel appreciated.

Even if he doesn’t pamper or spoil them, he’s really protective towards his child. He’s one of the most dangerous -and hated, among other gangs- men in all Italy, so he has tons of enemies. He’s always on guard, trying to be with his family as much as he can, always doing his best not to let the child notice that their father is on patrol and murder mode. He wants his child to have a happy and peaceful childhood and future life, hopefully away from mafia.

Prosciutto

As Risotto, Prosciutto always took care of someone for all his life. So, when he receives the news, he thinks to be more than ready and capable to take care also of his child. He’s, however, more and more nervous as the birth time approaches: this is his child, not one of the neighborhood kids or Pesci… all his worries and fears, however, vanish when he sees his child for the first time: he knows, deep in his heart, that he’ll do everything and even more for their happiness and safety.

He tries to learn everything he can in order to help his s/o and to be the best father he can. He often loses track of time when he’s with his child, watching them sleep peacefully or play. His kid is the only one who can mess with his hair without receiving a growl or a frown back: Prosciutto just can’t keep a dark face around his child, his joy and light.

He absolutely supports to hell and back his child, encouraging them to follow their dreams and passions. He couldn’t ever have a normal life, so he does his best to keep his work out of home. The only ones who know about his child are Risotto, of course, as his Capo and mentor, and Pesci, who gladly becomes an uncle for the little one.

As much as Prosciutto is caring and sweet with his child, he’s merciless and unrestrainable towards who dares to put in danger his family. A powerful mafia man like him, the second in command of la Squadra di Esecuzione, has a lot of enemies who’d be really glad to know that he has a weakness: he’s ready to slay anyone who even thinks about harm his s/o and his precious child.

Pesci

As much as he wanted to be a father, one day, he doesn’t feel ready for a child. What if he accidentally hurt them? What if he’s not enough? He’s not strong or determined like his fratellone, what if he just screw everything up? Seeing his child for the first time, however, helps him to realize one thing: he’d die a thousand times for them and nothing will stop him from being the best father he can.

He’s a soft and sweet dad, up to do every game his child wants to do: hide and seek? He’s already counting. Building something with lego bricks? Let’s do it! His favourite moments, however, are when he takes his child to the beach and they fish together. He loves to see the small focused frown on his child’s little forehead, while they watch intently the water, hoping to catch a fish. When they’re tired of fishing, they play with sand and go on shells hunting, chit-chatting and laughing.

Pesci tries his best not to spoil his child, knowing that it’s unhealthy, but his kid, in fact, has him wrapped around their pinkie. If they really want something, they can be sure that Pesci would do anything he can to get it for them.

Prosciutto is obviously involved in the little one’s life: he’s Pesci’s fratellone, he wants him to be his child’s uncle! In the beginning, however, he’s a little worried that his own child could prefer uncle Prosciutto to him; his insecurity is wiped out when he sees that they still go back to him every time. When Pesci confess it to Prosciutto, he just rolls his eyes, with a little smile, and says that his child will never replace their own father with someone else.

Formaggio

Formaggio never actively thought about having a child. Yes, sometimes, seeing a child walking hand in hand with their mother or father, he imagined, for a moment, his and his s/o’s life with a child of their own, but nothing more. Now, however, that imaginary child is so real that it almost scares him: he doesn’t think of himself as a good father. He has too bad habits, he’s not really responsible, the poor kid would surely be unhappy with a father like him.

He almost is tempted to run away, when the child is born, but he steels himself: he can’t be so coward. When he has the child in his arms, when he feels his little fingers wrapping around his one, he feels his heart flutter and he’s almost on verge of tears. This is his child, the most important legacy he will leave on this planet when he’ll be gone. It’s his duty to protect them and to make them happy as best as he can.

So, first of all, he tries to keep at least in line his bad habits, for his child’s sake. He wants to be a good father for them, not like his own. He doesn’t want them to end up like him, first a thief, then a mafia man and a murderer. He wants better for them.

After he gains a bit of security, he’s a really affectionate and playful dad. He’s always up to play with them, when he’s at home, and to cover them with raspberries and to tickle them, to make them laugh ‘till no end. He just loves his little child’s laugh and smile: it’s the concrete proof that they’re happy, that he’s not a scum of man but a decent dad for them. At least he’s making them happy.

He’s really protective towards his child. He knows well how scary and dangerous the world can be and he doesn’t want his child to have to face his nightmares. He’ll not pamper him: his kid will have their own challenges, as it should be, but they would never have to face their father’s one. He takes care of anyone who dares to bother or thinks to put in danger his family: using his Little Feet he eradicates the problem without even batting an eyelash.

Melone

Melone is ecstatic. A child, a real child!! He’s almost jumping off his skin at the news. He always wanted a child; in the end, Babyface’s sons were just palliatives for the absence of a real one. He immediately starts to read and study everything he can about toddlers, phases of childhood and how children’s brains work: he wants to be more than ready for his little kid.

He soon clashes into the most obvious difference between Babyface’s sons and his real kid: the different growing speed. Babyface’s sons are practically adults in days, if not less; his child would need many years to reach adulthood. If this, on one hand, bugs him a little, at least in the beginning, on the other hand it almost assures him; his child is not going to die soon like Babyface’s sons, they could have a happy and long life and Melone wants to guarantee it to them with all his might.

When he finally manages to snap out his “how to kill a man in 101 and more creative ways” way of teaching, he’s actually a good teacher. He’s patient and gentle and ready to explain more time when the child doesn’t understand. His way of teaching is also funny: he uses a lot of images and games to teach him various things, from writing to reading to do basic math. When they go to school, they’re already above their classmates thanks to their father’s lessons.

He’s really careful about their health too: he always makes sure to make them eat healthy and nutrient food and, when they’re older, to do proper gym to always be in health. He religiously follows the saying “mens sana in corpore sano”, teaching his child to take care about their body health as much as their education.

He’s a cuddler. He loves so much his child and he demonstrates it also cuddling them to no end. He’s the one who carries them to sleep, to his s/o’s amused huff, and lulles them in his arms until they fall asleep. He stops it just when his child themselves asks him to, and Melone whines about it with his s/o for ages.

Illuso

As Formaggio, Illuso never actively thought about having a child, but, when he hears the news, he’s not as shocked and in denial as Formaggio. He accepts it without batting an eyelash, immediately pondering about the best way to keep the child safe from his work and dark world. He also does his researches about everything inherent to the child, both from books and direct observation from mirrors in kindergartens and hospitals, to see how a baby must be carried and which is the best approach to teach a kid. He even asks advice to Prosciutto, the best expert on the teaching topic, but avoids Melone, knowing that he would have surely given him great advice about how to teach his children how to perfectly kill before his second birthday but nothing actually useful and normal.

Illuso is a chill but always observant dad. He doesn’t pick his child on until they ask to be picked; he lets them play with his ponytails, softly petting their hair, and lets them sleep on his chest, always careful to their surrounding. When he has to go on a long mission, for, like, more days, he asks his s/o to stay safe in the mirror world: so, his family takes a sort of “little holydays” in the mirror world, which his child adores, until he’s back.

He’s attentive but not overwhelming; when he sees that they need help he goes to help them but, if he sees that they’re doing well alone, he let them so, observing, always ready to go if they struggle too much. He knows that they have to learn how to approach the world by instinct, for a lot of things, but still he has to forcefully restrain his father instinct that kicks him and screams at him to go to help his child, even if they’re doing good alone. When they’re done, however, he makes sure to pat their head and to tell them he’s proud of them and their accomplishment.

Not the most affectionate dad around, but surely supportive as hell. He’s his child’s first fan and loves to hear about their dreams and projects. They can be sure that their dad will always be here to cheer for them, a safe presence to always go back to to ask for advice and help or just to have the certainty that they’re appreciated beyond imagination by someone.

Ghiaccio

Ghiaccio freaks out when he knows he’s going to be dad. He’s not ready!! He’s the last person in the world who could ever be a father! He needs some minutes to scream in a pillow and to let White Album freeze the room he’s in, before calming, at least, a bit down. When he’s back, he’s no more on the verge of snapping, but he’s still nervous as hell.

For the first times, he’s terrified by the idea of holding his baby. He’s scared to drop them, to break them. They’re so frail and his hands took the life of so many people… with time, however, he mellows around the baby. He notices that his hold on them is gentle and that the baby themselves enjoys being near their dad, often falling asleep on his chest, their little hands clenched around his finger or shirt. He watches them in awe, still not believing that he has helped to bring to this world a sweet and precious creature like his child; he’s so deep in his contemplation that he doesn’t even notice that the baby is drooling on him.

Again, not one of the best cuddly and physically affectionate dads, but sure as hell the most passionate fan of them. He’s also, surprisingly, understanding if they fail in something, sitting next to them and reassuring them, encouraging them to do better next time. In those moments, his child can really feel all the affection their dad feels for them.

He never yells at his child, never. He doesn’t want them to be scared of him, so, if he had a bad day and his child did something to worsen it, he just takes a moment to go to the bathroom -or his and his s/o’s bedroom-, close the door and scream in a pillow, venting out all the rage and the stress. When he comes back, he’s way calmer.

It’s not unusual, especially when his child is really little, like one-two years old, that they tire him so much that he just falls asleep on the couch -or on the carpet-, crooked glasses and messed hair and his child on his chest. In those moments, he hugs them tightly, as to unconsciously protect them while he’s not vigilant as usual.

BONUS: Sorbetto and Gelato

They probably picked up their child from the streets. They knew how hard was that life and they couldn’t bear the sight of a child so little in a situation like that: they took them at home, washed and feeded them, given them a bed and a house. Most importantly, they gave them a family when they had anyone.

The child brings them even closer: now they have to protect not only each other, but also their little sparkle of joy. They’re really secretive about their existence: just Risotto knows, both ‘cause he’s the Capo and ‘cause he’s their favourite -and first- pupil. He actually helps them to keep them a secret from everyone’s eyes, even the Boss’ ones.

Among the two, Gelato is the cuddler. He loves to pick their child up and carry them around, often falling asleep with them on his lap and safely nestled in his arms. He’s also the one who spoils them much, to Sorbetto’s grumbles, and, hearing them, Gelato whines, doing big puppy eyes, immediately imitated by their child. At this point, Sorbetto just huffs a laugh, ruffling both his lover and his child’s hair, making them laugh.

Sorbetto is the stricter parent. He’s the one who says stop to a tv show when it’s time to go to sleep and the one who carries them to their study session. His child, however, doesn’t hold any grudge to him: Sorbetto is also the one who immediately hears them whimper when they have a nightmare and the first to go to them to hold them tight while they cry, soon reached by Gelato too. They’re their child’s rocks, even if so different, but both necessary and complementary for their child’s happiness.

#jjba #vento aureo #la squadra di esecuzione #risotto nero #prosciutto #pesci #formaggio #melone #illuso #ghiaccio #sorbetto #gelato #sorlato #fatherhood hcs #la sqaudra as fathers #headcanons #sfw #medusaexperience

415 notes · View notes

multisfabulis · 5 years ago

Text

The Road to Forgiveness Be Damned

Redemption for a Blameless Sin (Chapter 3/7)

Word Count: 7525

TW: Depiction of PTSD flashback, mention of childhood abuse, self harm, body/eye horror, suicide, depiction of euthanasia

In the midst of a depressing two months, I finally finished this chapter! This might be the longest chapter I have for this series and that’s because A LOT of stuff goes down here. Going by the amount of trigger warnings above, this is also the darkest chapter I have, which is an emotional rollercoaster, to say the least.

I’ve done my best in giving the topics present in this the respect they deserve but I wouldn’t be surprised if I still screwed up somewhere. I mean no offense by what I wrote and I can only promise to be better if/when I explore these topics again.

Read on AO3 | Read on DA

A yawn escaped from Ven’s mouth as she brushed her hair. She spent a good chunk of last night reading her mother’s journal. The small glimpses into her life made her want to continue reading, no matter how drowsy she got. She was only able to push through the first few pages before she stopped for the night. Today was too important to risk screwing up on.

She and Ferreth would soon set off for the swamp to slay their quarry. Although they had no concrete plan as of now, the groundwork was at least there. Step one: kill the creature, step two: inform Filaurel of the deed, and step three: reap in the reward. Third step was still up in the air, however.

As she finished pulling her hair back into the usual ponytail, Ferreth asked her, “How was your reading last night?”

“It was…” she paused, searching for the right word to use, “interesting, to say the least.”

“Not what you expected?”

“You… could say that.”

She then described some of what she had read through. While some of the entries were typical for someone of Thessalia’s age, others were more… suggestive. It wasn’t till the 3rd or 4th entry of that kind she realized her mother was a woman who avoided commitment like it was the plague. Nothing wrong with that, it just didn’t fit the image she had of her.

“While it’s a little awkward to read--” she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear-- “it still lets me know who my mother was back then.”

“Hey, whatever works, right?”

“Mm-hmm.”

They left the house in a moment’s time. Everything was about the same as usual as they walked towards the outskirts. It seemed to be quieter today, a small difference compared to the day before. This was more of the Thal Esari she experienced from her childhood, remembering how she used to be out more when it was quiet. It felt strangely nostalgic, something she never thought she’d miss.

A crack from nearby seized her heart. It was something she was terribly familiar with and it sounded just as awful as it did way back when. Her stomach roiled as she tried to fight the urge to vomit.

Her past and present were beginning to blur together into a kind of mismatched “reality”. Tall, dark figures flickered in and out of her vision, surrounding her for one second and then disappearing the next. Her throat felt seemingly sore from the imaginary cries for help she knew would fall on deaf ears. Blistering heat flared up all across her back from both the lashings and the dirt stinging the open wounds. She fell to the ground, clutching her chest, as tears filled her eyes.

She needed to do something, anything, to ground herself back to reality. It didn’t matter what but it had to be now. She took out the knife she kept hidden away in her cloak and sliced her left hand open.

It easily cut through the fabric of her glove as well as the skin on her palm. Good thing she sharpened it before coming here. Scarlet blood bled from her wound, though the black cloth of her glove did well to disguise it. She then opened and closed her hand tightly several times in an attempt to magnify the pain.

You’re okay, she kept repeating to herself. You’re not a little kid anymore. There’s nothing they can do to hurt you. Ferret wouldn’t dare let anyone hurt you again. Breathe in, then breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out.

The nausea she felt soon settled and her breathing steadied itself. The figures her mind conjured up vanished like the illusions they were. Her voice no longer felt like it was stuck, hearing her breaths come out clearly. The burning sensation across the span of her back was absent yet her scars still ached. Despite the dulling pain in her hand, she was okay. She was safe.

Crouched down next to her, Ferreth asked her worriedly, “Ven, you okay? You need somewhere quiet?”

“I’m fine,” she replied, her voice hoarse, “I just got a little sick, is all.”

“...Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Upon helping her up, he kept an arm around her waist to have her lean on him as they walked through the gates. Her legs felt weak as her head spun so she appreciated him acting as a wall of sorts for her. Those attacks always left her feeling like she had been put through the wringer after they passed.

He sat her down in the shade of a nearby tree and gave her some water to drink. It flowed down her throat with ease, cooling her insides. She felt her dizziness lighten some as she wiped away the beads of sweat that formed on her forehead.

“You all right?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m just…” She let out a small breath. “A little dizzy, that’s all.”

“You sure? You haven’t gone down like that in a while, you know,” he said while brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face.

“Ferret.” She gave him a small smile. “I’m okay.”

It was hard to convince him of that once his worry set in but he let the matter go. She sometimes felt lucky to have someone show as much concern as he did for her, whether it be over protecting her from enemy attacks or helping her recover from flashbacks like earlier. She was truly blessed to have him in her life.

Looking as if he realized something, he said, “Ven, let me see your hand.”

She almost forgot about the open wound on her hand. As she held it out to him, she could see blood still seeping into her glove. She had no idea how deep her cut was or how hard she slashed with her knife.

Taking off her glove, he grimaced and said, “Yeesh, you cut a little too deep for my liking. Nothing a roll of bandages won’t fix, though.”

He took out a fresh white roll of bandages and began wrapping her hand up. As she watched him work, a pang of regret struck her heart. Even if she felt lucky to have him worry over her, it didn’t stop the guilt from gnawing away at her. None of this would be happening if she didn’t break down at the crack of a whip every time she heard one.

“Hey, Ferret?” Her eyes fell down to the ground. “Sorry for always making you do this.”

“Do what? Take care of you like the friend I am?” he asked.

“You shouldn’t have to take care of me. Having to look after me every time I get lost in my memories isn’t fair to you. You do all these nice, wonderful things for me and I do nothing but be a burden to you. It just isn’t fair.”

“Ohh, believe me--” She felt him let go of her hand-- “you do so much more for me than I think you’ll ever know.”

She looked up to see him before her with an outstretched hand. He had the warmest smile gracing his face and a gleam of love in his eyes. She didn’t deserve to have such things directed towards her.

“You’re not a burden to me, Ven. Despite what you may think, I take care of you because I want to, not because I feel like I have to. I know you’d be saying the same thing to me so no more feeling like you’re a burden, okay?”

She wanted so desperately to believe him when he said that. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe he meant every word of it. It was just so much easier to keep everything inside and not bother anyone with her troubles. They had better things to do with their time than sit and listen to her vent. After all, she had been told that no one would care about the struggles of an insignificant Vlixeox all her life. Why annoy someone when she knew she didn’t matter to them?

Still, it wouldn’t be fair to Ferreth if she didn’t give him a chance. She couldn’t promise him anything but she could at least try. It was the least she could do after subjecting him to one of her flashbacks again.

Placing her hand in his, she smiled and said, “I’ll try not to be.”

A wave of exhaustion suddenly washed over her after he helped her up. She was always left feeling drained whenever everything settled down. All she wanted to do was lay in a nice, soft bed and sleep the day away. However, there was something far more important she needed to do first.

As she started walking towards where the swamp was, Ferreth ran up next to her and asked, “Ven, are you sure you don’t wanna wait till tomorrow to do this? I mean, you just had another attack so…”

“It’ll be fine,” she replied. “It’s not like being tired has stopped me before.”

“Yeah, but still…”

“Ferret, you know this’ll only end in one of two ways. You’ll either have to carry me back, kicking and screaming, or we can continue on our merry way. Which will it be?”

That came out harsher than she wanted it to but it needed to be said. They had a mission to accomplish on a time limit. She didn’t want precious time to be wasted on her mental state when it could be used for more pressing matters. Once this was done, then she could finally relax.

He let out a sigh and said, “Fine, but I’m only letting you have your way because I know you’re too stubborn to accept a no.”

He really knew how to make her feel guilty sometimes. Whether or not he did it on purpose, she didn’t know. She figured, once their mission was done, she’d apologize and make it up to him. After all, she was forcing him to go against his better judgment by letting her continue on, despite the emotional ordeal she just went through. It’d only be fair.

Past the field of tall grass, they finally reached the dark forest. She was quick to notice the many peculiarities this place had. The trees had pieces of bark missing from them, the sizes anywhere from small lumps to large slabs. Leaves the color of decaying brown were preventing sunlight from filtering through its dense yet frail canopy. The patches of grass that sprouted up had no color to them.

The forest looked as if something was slowly sucking the life away from it. Whatever it was, she knew it had to be an unnatural force. If drastic measures weren’t taken right away, the forest would eventually die.

Still, it was something she couldn’t concern herself with. They didn’t come here to investigate why the forest was slowly dying. They came here to hunt down an animal that could potentially pose a threat to the people of Thal Esari and kill it. After that, they’d report back to Filaurel and turn their backs on this place. Whatever was going on with this forest, it wasn’t their problem to deal with.

Gathering her resolve, she let out a determined breath and said, “Let’s go.”

“Wait.” He grabbed her wrist to stop her from going in. “What’s the plan?”

“We go in, find it, kill it, and report back to Lady Filaurel,” she replied matter-of-factly.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Do you have a better idea in mind?”

He gave her a confident smile. “When do I not?”

The plan he came up with was leagues better than her own. They were to split up so as to cover more ground and search for tracks. Since they were assuming their quarry to be of an unusual nature, they needed to be on the lookout for anything conveying that. If one of them found tracks, they’d signal the other via bird calls. Good thing there were barely, if any, birds around. Then it was just a matter of following them till they led to their target. If luck was on their side today, they could kill it quickly and inform Filaurel of the deed by the end of the day.

Before they went in, he stopped her again, holding her hand in his. “What is it?”

“...Be careful, okay? Don’t get reckless and think you can take it on by yourself. Just send me the signal if you find anything and I’ll come running.”

“I will.” She squeezed his hand to comfort him. “You be careful, too, you hear?”

He gave her an affirmative nod and let go of her hand. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what lied ahead. This was it, the only thing standing between her and the forgiveness she yearned for was their quarry. Once it was taken care of, they’d come back to Thal Esari, deliver the news of its death to Filaurel, and she’ll have earned her reward. It’ll be enough for her to maybe, finally, begin to forgive herself.

Only one path left to take. Another deep breath to calm her nerves and then she set off towards the right side of the forest. She heard footsteps opposite from her direction, indicating Ferreth to have taken the left side. Let luck be on our side today, she silently prayed.

Walking through the forest felt eerie. What should be vibrant greens were dull grays, furthering her suspicion that this place was dying. The only sound she heard was her own footsteps, no bugs or birds seemingly around for miles. She kept an eye and ear out in case she found the remnants of her prey traipsing about.

As she wandered further in, she began to hear voices. They were indistinct whispers so she couldn’t make them out, no matter how hard she strained her ears. It was difficult to tell whether she was imagining them because of the creepy atmosphere or if they really were there. Either way, a pit started to grow in her stomach.

Then came the shadows. She’d catch something darting out from the corners of her eyes every so often, only for there to be nothing when she turned to see. It didn’t help that she could barely make out anything within the darkness of the forest. Maybe it was her exhaustion from earlier causing her mind to play tricks on her, she figured. It did nothing to stop the pit from growing.

She spotted a break in the darkness several feet ahead of her. Getting closer, she saw it was a ray of sunlight illuminating what appeared to be a drop-off. Whether it led to a cliff or a steep hill, she couldn’t tell from this distance. She crouched down and crept toward it as stealthily as possible.

Coming up on the drop-off revealed several things. First, the drop-off itself was part of a hill that led to the swamp’s empty yet otherwise clean shore. Secondly, the swamp didn’t appear to be stricken with whatever curse was placed on the forest. Thirdly, she could hear bugs chirping and toads croaking from the swamp just ahead, wondrous sounds that may as well have been music to her ears. Lastly, she finally found what she was looking for.

A very large print of some kind was impressed deeply into the ground. The print, upon closer inspection, looked to be of a hand, albeit deformed. She could recognize each finger and the thumb but there were also other finger-like appendages attached to them. Whatever left this handprint here had the condition she’d seen on some people where they had more than five fingers on their hands but in a more extreme fashion. The size of the handprint was easily twice the size of her hand by comparison.

On both sides of the handprint were large puddles. She took a glove off and dipped her fingers into one of the puddles to see what it was. Her heart skipped a beat as she gasped. It wasn’t the fact that she was touching slobber left over from where her quarry was standing or that it felt gross and slimy that made her quickly pull her hand away. It was the warmth and realization of what that warmth meant.

She heard a twig snap behind her and she whirled around. All she could see was a massive silhouette and many pairs of eyes glaring at her. The eyes were blue, green, brown, hazel, gray and she thought she saw two irises and pupils inside each socket. It snarled and growled with such ferocity, her heart sank down into her stomach. Guess she found her target.

No sudden movements, she repeated to herself as she slowly moved her arm up to grab the end of her glaive. Even though she followed her mantra down to a T, it wasn’t enough. The creature charged at her, its gallops pounding against the ground. She stumbled back in shock, forgetting about the sudden drop-off.

Her foot found no ground and she let out a scream. Pain scattered throughout her body as she fell down the steep hill. Sticks and rocks jabbed and cut her while leaves stuck to her like glue. She soon reached the end, groaning as she glanced down to inspect the damage.

Blood and dirt were smeared over the bare patches of skin. Her stockings had several small tears in them, no doubt from the sticks that broke during her tumble. Her body felt sore while the cuts she sustained stung. She probably had a ton of scrapes and bruises all over her body that she couldn’t see. In the end, though, she was glad she wasn’t seriously injured after a fall like that.

A ghastly roar from above sent chills down her spine. She looked up just in time to see the creature leap off the drop-off and land in front of her. With it now out in the sunlight, she could see what it really was.

It was big, easily bigger than Ferreth, which scared her. It had a wild mane of tangled dark hair limply hanging on either side of its equine-like face. Thin, milky white skin covered its whole body except for the legs, which appeared to be rotting and she could see maggots feasting on dead flesh. Jagged discolored teeth protruded out its bottom jaw as thick drool dripped onto the ground. The many pairs of eyes that glared at her in hatred filled her with a dread she didn’t understand as she realized something. Why did those eyes look so familiar?

She didn’t have time to think about that as the creature suddenly lunged a clawed hand at her. The claws were little more than bones sharpened to a point. She quickly drew up a wall of darkness to try and block the attack. Its claws tore through it like paper and she went flying right to a tree. A strangled groan came out as her back slammed into the trunk and she fell onto the ground.

Another roar was let loose as she struggled to get up. Her back ached and she found it hard to breathe but she needed to move. This thing could attack her again at any moment and it was out for blood.

Sure enough, the creature leapt towards her, claws outstretched and mouth agape. She side-stepped out of the way just in time to avoid being pinned down. It shot her a heated glance and growled, its upper lip curling to reveal sharp fangs. She wasted no time in getting the hell outta there.

She ran as far as her legs could carry her. She needed to be a good distance away from this thing before she could even think about taking it down. The sheer power it had to tear through her defenses so easily proved to her it wasn’t to be underestimated. Her style of fighting wouldn’t work here, it’d be too risky. How would she be able to fight it if she couldn’t touch it, she realized.

Well, she still had her trump card but… She didn’t feel comfortable using her power for combat. It was one thing to use it casually and for assistance in battles but it was a whole other matter to use it to fight. Just the thought of using her power with the intent to hurt her enemy made her feel uneasy, regardless of whether or not they deserved it. She may have full control over it now but the chance she’d do more harm than good was still too great. She’ll just have to make do with her glaive and improvise. She could do that, no problem.

“Crap!”

She skidded to a halt upon seeing the swamp’s shoreline fast approaching. Willow trees were scattered all across the swamp, some having roots that emerged from underwater. The water itself was black, though she couldn’t tell if it was naturally murky or if something else was causing it to be like that. Green lilypads and moss were the only bright colors in an otherwise dreary place. However, she didn’t stop to take in the scenery. With how dark the water was, there was no way to tell how deep it went. This was a problem for her because of her inability to swim.

A roar came from behind her and she turned to face it. The creature caught up to her, its teeth bared and ready to tear her apart. Now she was really stuck between a rock and a hard place.

The only thing left to do was fight. She still didn’t know how or even if she could touch it without getting torn to shreds but she’d figure it out. She took a deep breath, steadying her nerves as she stared into its eyes dead-on. They looked so familiar yet she couldn’t remember where she had seen them before. No matter, it’d be dead soon, anyway.

The creature charged towards her, giving her a split second to react. Just as it’s about to ram her, she jumped up. She pressed a hand onto its head as if it were a vault and twisted her body. She was able to mount it with relative ease, the ache in her wrist notwithstanding.

It began to buck to throw her off as she tried to tangle her hands in its mane. Each time she’d grab on to a dark lock, it’d fall out into her hand. It was only when she did this several times that she noticed curdled, black sludge seeping out from the missing patches of hair. That and the constant feeling of cold slime moving in-between her legs disgusted her.

If she couldn’t get a good grip on it, there was always another option. She took out the knife from earlier, still stained in her blood, and plunged it deep in the space between its shoulders. Black sludge, which she now believed to be the creature’s blood, trickled out from the wound.

It howled in pain, multiple voices screaming over each other. Another wave of chills went down her spine as the creature galloped further into the swamp. Now it was imperative she hold on to the knife for dear life, lest she fall into the water and drown. It reared back and she felt the blade cut through its back. What she saw inside the open wound made her heart stop.

A rotting face rose up out of decaying flesh. Its skin was tanned and leathery, stretched taut over facial bones. Empty holes for eyes, no nose, thin, chapped lips, and sunken cheeks were all she could discern from it. The face opened its mouth and started to scream in a high pitched voice. This caused the creature to cease its bucking as she felt shifting skin between her legs.

She looked down to see large tumors bulging out its body. Its thin skin tore apart to reveal six other faces, all in differing states of decay. They were in the same shape as the one in its back was, except with black blood spilling out of every orifice available. Screams erupted from their mouths as well and the pungent odor of death was present in the air.

It was then she realized just what this creature was. Images of blood and dead bodies flashed through her mind as devastating despair filled her heart. She didn’t want to believe it, didn’t want to accept it, but it was there. The reason why those eyes looked so familiar was because…

“No, it can’t be… Seldanna?” The face inside the creature’s back fell silent as she turned to look at the others. “Leena, Aila, Travaran… Braern, Vaeril, and Rathal… You’re… the ones I killed?”

Crying replaced screaming at the mention of their names. Voices of children and adults begging for help rang in her head. Tears slid down her cheeks as the voices grew louder and louder.

Why were they here? Why were they dead? They didn’t deserve to die! Out of all the people that could’ve died that day, why was it them?! Why were they the ones that died and not…?! If only she could remember, if only she could’ve controlled herself back then, if only she…!

The creature bucked again and she was thrown several feet away. It wasn’t till she found herself unable to breathe she realized she was underwater. She had to fight the urge to attempt to swim back up. Her lungs burned from the lack of air but she could care less about that.

Did she really deserve to live? Did she really have the right to live after killing innocent people? Maybe it’d be better if she just died. It’d give both her victims and the lives she irrevocably destroyed some form of closure. She deserved to die a long, painful death as retribution for all the pain she caused. All she’d have to do is sink to the bottom, let out her final breath, and…

She sensed a presence beside her, not knowing who or what it was. Hands cupped her cheeks and she felt pressure on her lips. Her lungs filled with air as an arm wrapped around her waist began pulling her up. She didn’t need to see to know who it was once they broke the surface.

“Ven, you all right?” Ferreth asked.

She couldn’t find it within herself to care about giving him an answer. She didn’t want to say anything, do anything. All she wanted to do was crawl into a ditch and let herself wither away until she died. Noting her lack of a response, he began swimming them back to land. He apologized for not coming sooner before explaining how he stopped the creature’s pursuit of her with an uppercut by way of earthen wall. He didn’t know how far it went but he hoped the distance would give them enough time to make it back to shore. His words went in one ear and out the other.

It wasn’t till they were on land a distant roar could be heard. Her stomach roiled once more, knowing what that meant. He muttered something she didn’t catch and hauled her over his shoulder to run. Fresh, silent tears trailed behind them as they made their escape.

He ran back the way she came, even climbing the hill she tumbled down with help from his powers to make it relatively easy. The whispers from before returned, louder and louder till they filled her head with incomprehensible murmurs. They served to make the dark thoughts swirling around stand out among everything else. The urge to grab her knife and stab herself with it grew.

A piercing scream tore through the midday sky as they settled into a small glade. She recognized it as Aila’s. Images of her small, mangled body flooded her mind and she wanted to throw up at the sight of it. She didn’t even want to think about how the others looked when she…

“Okay, I think we’ve lost that son of a bitch for now,” he said, checking behind him before letting out a weary sigh. “Holy shit, though, that thing is pissed.”

“It’s my fault…” she whispered, wrapping her arms around herself, “it’s my fault they’re like this.”

“What do you mean it’s your fault and who’s they?”

“They’re the people I killed, don’t you get it?!” Tears streamed down her face. She couldn’t be bothered to give a damn about how loud her outburst was. “Seldanna, Leena, Aila, Travaran, Braern, Vaeril, Rathal…It’s because of me they’re dead!”

“Ven, it was an accident. It wasn’t your---”

“It doesn’t matter! I killed them and nothing will ever change that!” She shuddered as she let out another sob. “God, I just wanted to prove to everyone I wasn’t a monster…”

All her life, she had been told she was a monster because of her existence as a Vlixeox. No matter how well she behaved, no matter how she tried to stay out of their way, it never changed. Her crime only solidified their view of her. She thought that, by atoning for her sin, she’d finally show everyone she wasn’t what they believed her to be. Now, even hell would be too good for a monster like her.

Hands were on her cheeks, wiping away the tears that fell. It was comforting and she wanted so badly to lean into it. But she didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve the love and care he’s treated her with, especially now. How could he still want to stay with her after everything that’s happened?

“Ven.” She didn’t want to look at him. What emotion his eyes held, she was too scared to see. “I want you to listen to me. I know that whatever I say, you may not believe me or even deny it but… I mean every word of what I say next to you. All I ask is for you to hear me out for a little bit, okay?

“It was not your fault. You were just a scared kid who didn’t want to get hurt. I know you didn’t mean to hurt them, much less kill them. It was just a tragic accident. I know that doesn’t change the fact that they’re… dead but it also doesn’t change the fact that you were protecting yourself from the people that were hurting you. They can twist what happened back then to suit what they want to believe but only you know the truth, even if you can’t remember it all.

“You’ve paid more than enough for this. You’re not a monster, Ven. I know it, everyone back home knows it. I just wish you’d know it, too.” He stroked her cheek as another tear fell.

“What if you’re wrong?” She finally worked up the courage to look him in the eyes. “What if I am one?”

“You’re not.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “Even so, I won’t stop trying to convince you you’re not a monster till you believe it. I don’t care if it takes me a lifetime to do it. This, I promise to you.”

She laid her hands on his as she cried softly. How could a monster like her be blessed with someone as wonderful as him? She’s done nothing to deserve such kindness and love from him yet he still lavishes her with it. He truly is someone she feels so, so happy to have in her life.

Pulling away, she began to say, “Hey, Ferret, I---”

A familiar roar cut her off, echoing through the trees. The creature’s monstrous body suddenly appeared behind Ferreth, ready to strike. She summoned a mass of darkness to quickly push him out of the way of the incoming attack. Just as he was shoved into safety did its bony hand snatch her up. It slammed her into the ground and the little breaths she had came out in a choke.

Fear seized her heart as its many eyes glared down at her. No, she couldn’t be terrified of it now. While she didn’t know how this amalgamation came to exist, she knew the people making it up needed to move on. This state of being, seven vengeful, scared entities seemingly trapped in a single deteriorating body for god knows how long, was no way to live.

“Why did you do this to us?” A legion of voices asked, though one in particular spoke above the rest.

“Trav…aran…” She squeezed the reply out as it slowly tightened its grip on her. “I know that… nothing I say will… mean anything but…”

She managed to keep it distracted while she sent a tendril of darkness to retrieve the knife that was still embedded in its back. The knife came out easily enough and the creature was none the wiser. She then willed the tendril to stab the blade into the fleshy part of the hand that held her.

It screamed in pain as it was forced to let her go. She took several breaths of air, thankful she wasn’t being crushed to death. Afterwards, she stood up and trained her glaive on the creature, now growling in retaliation.

“I’m sorry for killing you once,” she said, struggling to keep her voice steady, “and I’m sorry to have to do it again to end your suffering.”

Her eyes wandered over to where Ferreth was. Claws and scales replaced fingers and skin on his arms and slitted eyes met her gaze. That meant he was raring to fight, something she couldn’t let happen at any cost. This was her responsibility and she wasn’t about to let him take care of it for her. This was something she needed to do.

“Ferret.” She spoke slowly and tried not to make any sudden moves. “I’m gonna need your help with something. As soon as I’m done talking, I’m going to bolt back to the swamp in the hopes this thing will follow me. Give it some time and then follow us back so you can restrain them with your power. Do you understand?”

“Y-yeah, but---”

She didn’t give him time to respond as she suddenly darted to the right. The creature missed its swipe at her and she dashed past it. It gave a roar before following after her, its heavy footfalls thudding behind her.

A glance every so often confirmed her theory that its only target was her. Any obstacle in its way would be rendered a casualty, be it people or objects. If Ferreth did as he was told, its only concern should be the girl running away from it.

She reached the drop-off once more. Remembering what happened last time she came to this spot, she skidded to a stop and quickly looked around. No way could she try and jump off, it’d be too risky at this height. She found a sturdy-looking branch growing out of a willow tree ahead of her. It didn’t seem reliable but it was the best she had. Darkness coiled around the branch and she leapt from the drop-off while holding onto the makeshift vine.

It didn’t take long for the branch to snap from her weight. She landed on her side roughly, her hip flaring up in pain. She was just barely given enough time to react when the creature pounced on her.

With teeth bared for her to see, it lunged. She stuck her glaive in its mouth in an attempt to stop it from biting into her. Warm spit slid down the metal to her arms as she tried to keep her weapon inside its maw. There was no way for her to escape without risking the possibility of getting slashed by its claws. Still, if she had to, the risk would be more than worth it.

Then it was forcibly dragged away from her. Its claws raked through the dirt on either side of her as it struggled to stay. She crawled out from under it to see Ferreth curling hardened dirt like a corkscrew around its torso. Dirt and dust caked his scaled arms and sprinkled off the extended limbs of earth as it thrashed around. Thank god for his intervention…

“Ven, you all right?” he asked loudly so he could be heard over the creature’s roaring.

Standing up, she replied, “I’m holding up! Listen, when I tell you to, let it go.”

“Are you crazy?! This thing wants to kill you!”

“I know but it won’t come down to that. I just need to talk with them.”

“What if it kills you after I let it go?! I don’t want you to die!”

“I’ll be okay, Ferreth!”

He closed his eyes tightly, brows knitted in worry and mouth clenched. She knew that the very idea of gambling with her life is something he never wants to consider. Still, he needed to believe in her, if only just for this one thing. After a moment, their eyes locked and she knew she had his trust.

She walked over to it, a mixture of sadness, guilt, and grim acceptance filling her heart. As she stood in front of the beast, it roared and lashed out in fury. Yet she did nothing, letting it vent its rage at her. Its eyes burned with contempt while the voices shifted between cursing her existence and crying out for a savior.

Soon, it tired itself out. Although it no longer tried to attack her, it still growled at her when she moved closer to it. She looked into its eyes in pity, struggling to keep the tears at bay.

She placed a gentle hand on the bridge of its nose. Nothing she could say to them would change what happened. She dealt them a cruel fate, regardless of it ultimately being an accident. She’d do anything to rewind the clock and prevent the senseless tragedy that occurred but… That was then and this is now.

Stroking it in a soothing manner, she said, “I know that what I did to you all can never be taken back… and for that, I’m truly sorry.

“No words can come close to describing just how sorry I am. I don’t expect any of you to accept my apology and that’s okay. All I can say is, none of you deserved to die and you especially don’t deserve to be trapped in the suffering you’re all in. It should be the other way around but… life’s unfair at times.”

The growls stopped and the voices fell quiet. What was once malice was now sorrow as eyes stared at the girl who spoke in bittersweet comfort. She couldn’t begin to imagine how they felt but she wanted to believe they shared just an inkling of the sadness there was at the whole situation.

“Ferret, let them go. I think they’re okay now.”

He dropped his arms and the dirt around its body crumbled away. A small part of her expected them to maul her right then and there after luring her into a false sense of security. They didn’t. Instead, they laid down in front of her, their eyes solemnly closed. She continued to stroke its face all the while.

“You all were so kind to me back then. I didn’t understand the ways some of you had shown that at the time but I want you to know that I truly, truly appreciated it. I can only repay that with an act of kindness of my own and it’s the only thing I can give you all. It’s more like an act of mercy but still…”

A bitter laugh escaped from her mouth as tears slid down her cheeks. Even though what she was about to do next was right, she wished it didn’t have to be like this. If only there was some other way to do it but it wasn’t meant to be. She held them close, knowing this will be the last time she’ll ever see them again. Her heart ached yet she remained calm as she stepped away from them.

“May the afterlife give you a better beginning than the grisly end I forced you to meet.”

They bowed their head in resignation, waiting to meet their fate. Darkness wrapped around their neck before suddenly twisting to the side. Their neck snapped with a sickening crack and their body fell forward. Whatever strange power brought about their revival was gone as they withered away to dust.

It was only when a few specks were left she heard them. Two words that were spoken in an almost mournful tone. Words from the people she’d never see again till it was her time.

“We’re sorry.”

A gentle breeze carried the specks of dust high up into the sky until they were no longer visible. That was it. It was over. She’d cry if she had more tears to shed but she didn’t. She felt empty, hollow. Yet she also felt as if a great weight was lifted from her shoulders. Maybe it was because she faced a terrible truth head-on instead of running away or something within her finally felt settled in some way. She didn’t know which it was.

Her mind felt hazy. The figure of Ferreth blurred in her vision, sounds faded into the background, and her movements seemed to be half a second slow. A muffled voice was the last thing she heard before her descent into darkness.

#airi's writing #ship tag; Lean on Me #childhood abuse tw #self harm tw #body horror #eye horror #suicide tw #euthanasia tw

12 notes · View notes

thedistantstorm · 6 years ago

Text

The Enemy of My Enemy

[[Here I am with more of my daily SteelPoncho bullshit. For your leisure, a first meeting between one Commander Zavala and one Suraya Hawthorne. It doesn’t go very well.]]

Before he ever meets Suraya Hawthorne, he has the Guardian’s Ghost pull her record from the City’s archives. It is disturbing. Larceny. Assault. Battery. Threatening a militia officer. Disorderly conduct. Vandalism. Weapons violations. Impersonating a militia officer. Destruction of public property. Arson.

“How can the denizens of the Last City rally behind a malefactor such as this... Hawthorne person?”

“Send three patrol teams to the walls. Wait for the Cabal to finish their sweeps, then go in and collect the caches from the Underground. They should all be tagged. Prioritize the food and medical equipment, the guns can wait.”

“If the Almighty is going to wipe out our sun, Commander, does it really matter who they rally behind?” Sloane’s fists are clenched though. She does not understand it either.

“But with the arrival of the Commander’s fleet, we have more fighters-”

“Guns won’t feed the survivors. We won’t need weapons if everyone starves before the fighting starts. Rations and medical equipment are our priority.”

“How many refugees does this ‘Farm’ have?”

“When we left, maybe several hundred thousand? Hundreds more were arriving by the day.”

“I’ll alert the clans, see if any of the other Guardians would be amenable to help.”

“Good. Thank you.”

“Um, Ma’am?”

Hawthorne does not turn around. “I know he’s there, Ramos. Thank you.”

“As it is, they could use your leadership, Sir. I will do what I can from here.”

“Prepare the fleet. I will take whatever combat ready vessels we have head to this ‘Farm.’ The citizens will need someone more savory to look to than some runaway miscreant.”

They are alone when she speaks, still with her back to him. Her voice is low and clear as she repeats to him, verbatim, his final announcement to the people of the Last City. “The Cabal have affixed a device to the Traveler and severed our connection to the Light. We cannot hold the City, and we cannot protect you.” A breath. “We are setting a rally point elsewhere in the system - watch for a broadcast. We will return to the City someday, but… I do not know when.” She scoffs. “Be safe. Be brave.”

Zavala does not move a muscle, though hearing the words repeated back at him makes him tingle. Hawthorne continues to look at the map tacked to the wall of the barn and wonders how he thinks the situation looks on his side of the chessboard. Somewhere further behind them, Shaxx can be heard yelling at Guardians to suck it up and fight.

“Hawthorne believes you abandoned her and the survivors.”

“Oh?”

“We’ll go to Nessus, try and locate Cayde and Ikora, but… I don’t think she’ll be very accepting of you, especially not at first.”

“Yes, and what does this criminal know of war? Where was she during the Great Disaster or while you and your brethren were slaying Gods and preventing SIVA from spreading and threatening our very existence? I do not care if she is accepting. She will accept or she will stand aside.”

“Are you going to stand there and glare at me all day, or do you have something to say, Commander?” His title is all but a sneer.

“You are the one leading this operation.” It is not a question. “You will acquiesce to myself and the other Guardians the necessary-”

“Last I checked, you and me? We’re the same. Unless you also got your powers back like that friend of yours.” She still stands, evaluating the map. Fingers brush against points, and plot imaginary lines. “I will acquiesce nothing.”

That caused him to bristle. “These people need hope! Continue to feed them, and provide what you will, but I will oversee tactical-”

She moves too swiftly for him to see, for he blinks and the barrel of a sniper rifle is all but touching his forehead. It is not the ideal weapon for a short range kill, but it is a weapon all the same.

“They need hope, you say? It's about time you Guardians got with the program. While you were off planning your resistance - how’d that work for you, by the way - my people and I have been bringing back the survivors you left for dead.”

“The Guardians were being hunted in the streets for sport!” He does not look away from her, or her weapon pointed at him, blue eyes sparking with fury.

“So were the children! So was EVERY SINGLE ONE of us.” She shook her head in disbelief. “You want hope? Go take a walk around out there. Look at them working together. Humans and Guardians. Together. You need hope? That is hope. We are the last hope. We are the only hope.” She lowers her weapon, sets it off to the side. He thinks he could reach it if he needed to. “You want to win this war, you need the rest of humanity’s help to do it. Without your Light, you are just as much a Guardian as the rest of us.”

“Not at all, then.” His voice is low, eyes narrowed on her.

She rolls her eyes. “Like I’ve been telling the rest of your mopey-ass people: anybody who can pick up a gun and shoot is a Guardian. If you’re going to have a pity party, stay the fuck out of our way. We have work to do.”

“The Cabal have a weapon pointed at our Sun. They will kill us all.”

“Not if we kill them, first.”

He steps into her personal space. “You naive fool. Do you really think it to be that easy?”

She stares down her nose at him, their eyes even like their height. “No. I don’t. But I know that if we talk about it like they’ve already won we’re never going to. Buck up, Commander. We’ve intercepted their transmissions. We know about the Almighty. We’re going to find a way.”

The air leaves the Commander’s lungs like a deflating balloon. His body looks more tired than hostile. “And just what do you know about planning a counter offensive?”

She shrugs. “Enough to know that we have enough people here to take back the City, when the time comes. The time is going to come.” She turns to regard her map once more, giving him her back. “There are fourteen thousand some-odd clans out there, across the Farm and the City. All of which are made of civilians and Guardians willing to work together - to fight together to protect everyone and take back what we’ve lost. That’s what I’ve been working on, along with intercepting enemy transmissions, keeping the Fallen off our backs, and making sure the coming Winter doesn’t cut our numbers in half. Is that enough for you? I don’t have centuries of battle to call upon to help me out like you do, oh wise one, but I figure keeping our people alive is our best chance at surviving this war.”

The Vanguard Commander steps forward and looks at her map. “You believe we that can win this war? Put down this Ghaul and his Almighty?”

Hawthorne nods. “Eventually, yes. But I think we have a lot of work to do to get there.”

“My Fireteam - the other Vanguards will be arriving eventually.”

“Then it looks like you’re stuck with me in the meantime. Lucky you.” She hands him a stack of paper. It’s all hand-written. “These are the most important scout reports we’ve compiled since Tower-fall. Figure you’ll want to know what’s happening in our little slice of paradise. I’ll assemble my people to give you a briefing… so long as you promise not to attempt a hostile takeover.”

Hawthorne reaches down, slings her gun over her shoulder and turns back to him. He’s flipping through the reports rapidly, trying to read at a speed far too fast for actual absorption. “Bring those with you.” She instructs. "Let me give you the tour and find you a place to stay.”

“That will not be-”

“You want to give them hope, right? We don’t have to like each other - I still think you’re a jerk for abandoning us, and I’m sure you have something far more poetic you could call me. But we need to be seen together so they know we have a common goal, and are willing to set our differences aside for their best interest.” She straightens her back, cracks her neck with two quick jerky movements and audible pops. “I’ll try to move past my preconceived notions if you will, though I feel like I’m doing all the talking and you’re just standing there being all silently judgey. And I hate that.”

“I know very little about you.” It’s a lie. He wonders if she knows it, too. He memorized her file, unwilling to bring it with him across the galaxy.

Umber eyes regard him coolly. She’s wary, and has every reason to be. Her danger sense has kept her - and the survivors - alive this long, after all. “Pay attention. You just might learn something.”

#steelponcho #zavala x hawthorne #enemies to friends to lovers #tell me that isn't how this goes #commander zavala #suraya hawthorne #destiny fanfiction #my writing #eome destiny fanfic

11 notes · View notes

bmaxwell · 4 years ago

Text

Shit I Played During the Pandemic: Monster Train

Since discussing names and their quality has been a thing for me lately: Monster Train is a dumb name, but it’s so dumb that it comes around and is actually a GREAT name. Also, it reminds me of a kids show called Dinosaur Train that my kids were into a few years ago.

We’re in a golden age for deckbuilding games. The Google machine defines Golden Age as: an idyllic, often imaginary past time of peace, prosperity, and happiness. And why would Google lie? You can see the fingerprints of Slay the Spire here in Monster Train, bit it’s far from a clone. Both games see you moving from node to node engaging in battles using ever-evolving decks of cards, and quick little one-off events. You are constantly progressing toward a boss at the end, and unlocking new cards with each run.

That’s where the similarities end though. Monster Train takes place on a train filled with monsters! And YOU are the train! At least that’s how I like to see it. You are demons fleeing to what remains of hell. On a train. While angels try to stop you. Or something like that. Your train, like all hell trains, is four stories tall with a glowing pyre on the top floor. Enemies enter through the bottom floor and move up one floor per round. You summon monsters as guardians on each floor and use spells to keep the angels from reaching the top floor and blowing up ya pyre.

There are five factions in the game, each with their own unique champion and play style. You start with the sort of factions you’d expect: one fiery and aggressive, the next leafy and nature-centric, and finally an icy faction with powerful magics. The last two factions feel unique: the Umbra revolve around summoning cheap little units called Morsels, that are eaten by the front-most unit each round and grant various bonuses. The fifth faction is called the Melting Remnant - powerful beings made of wax who melt away after a few rounds.

Every faction is smartly designed, and the best part is that you choose two factions for each run. You get the champion for the primary faction you pick, and access to all the cards for both factions. This makes every run feel unique and gives the game that “one more run” quality in spades. Every run feels like its own distinct experience. The way this game constantly serves up meaningful decisions in both the immediate tactical sense and the long term strategic sense makes it endlessly replayable.

Monster Train has been a godsend.

0 notes

briemund-tarthbane · 7 years ago

Text

30 Day OTP Challenge - Briemund Edition

Day 7 - Cosplaying

“I am no man,” she states to the imaginary Nazgûl kneeling in front of her after removing an imaginary helmet with her left hand. With a shout, she slays her enemy her equally imaginary sword, and quickly lets it go while she watches him vanish.

Simply put, Brienne loves the Lord of the Rings trilogy, and she loves Éowyn so very much. She has watched it several times now, to the point of memorizing her favorite character's lines and moves. She loves everything about her: her bravery, the way she can swing a sword, how she is not intimidated by the fact she is a woman. They can relate so much.

Brienne had wished she could go to Jon Snow's Halloween party as Éowyn dressed like a rider Rohan, but unfortunately for her, that had been part of her bargain with her boyfriend Tormund. He, also a Lord of the Rings geek, wanted to go as Gimli, a ginger bearded fellow just like himself, but she had argued he was too tall to cosplay a dwarf, and since they would go as a couple, it would make more sense if he went dressed as Faramir, Éowyn’s better half. Even though Brienne thought that was a lame excuse, and even though Tormund thought he was too broad for that, he had agreed, on the condition that Brienne would wear a dress. She had to concede in the end.

When Tormund finally emerges from their room, he is still putting his gloves on. Brienne looks at him in awe. It turns out he looks better than she has expected as a man of Gondor.

“The city has fallen silent,” she suddenly says in a sad voice, remembering Éowyn’s quote from the deleted scene of The Return of the King, the one where she meets Faramir at the Houses of Healing. She would never forgive Peter Jackson for having cut their short, but lovely exchange. “There is no warmth left in the sun.”

Tormund looks up and smiles. Then he proceeds to slowly approach her, just like the character he impersonates. “It is only the damp of the first spring rain.” Unlike Faramir, however, Tormund removes his right glove to caress Brienne's face. “I do not believe this darkness will endure.”

She smiles shyly, her cheeks burning. It's impressive how he always manages to make her blush after all this time dating him.

“You look handsome,” she finally mutters.

“That is not what Éowyn says,” Tormund replies, and they both giggle.

“Seriously though, you do look handsome. Just like I knew you would.”

“I appreciate it, my lady,” Tormund smiles before pressing a kiss to her lips. “You look beautiful as always. The dress only complements your beauty.” Then another kiss, deeper this time.

By the seven, does Brienne love him so much! Sometimes she could not believe she was so lucky to have met him, especially after she had stopped believing she would never find love. But there he is, proving her wrong each and every single day. They were like her favorite pairing, both having come from different places and backgrounds, finding comfort and solace after a great struggle. She prays the Seven everyday, thanking them for bringing Tormund Giantsbane to her like, always asking them to help her do everything she can not to ever let him go.

“We gotta get going,” Brienne speaks, hating to have to interrupt their sweet moment.

“Oh yes, the party.” Tormund blinks a few times, himself equally dazed. She turns to the mirror in their living room and adjusts her long blonde wig one last time. When she's done, takes her hand like Faramir takes Éowyn’s in the movie, and they both leave, ready to enjoy the night.

#Game of Thrones #30 day otp challenge #Tormund Giantsbane #Brienne of Tarth #briemund #tormund x brienne #brienne x tormund #faramir x eowyn #otp #my stuff

4 notes · View notes

patricksilvrrozartistry · 7 years ago

Text

Current Music Obsessions: November 1 - 15, 2017

So I have A LOT to show you guys today. I've been working on stuff and busy in my personal life that I haven't been able to really purge my watch later playlist, but at least we got a lot of great jams to get through this time around. Here are the MANY honorable mentions.

Angelical Tears - Once Upon a Time Kat Von D - Vanish Deus Ex Machina - Shadows from the Past Secret Rule - Imaginary World feat. Ailyn Gimenez (ex-Sirenia) Melyra - Living and Drifting The Fifth Alliance - Your Abyss Eye of Eternity - From Ash Omnium Gatherum - Blade Reflections Beast in Black - Beast in Black Dead End Scene - Dawn Lost in Grey - Dark Skies Butcher Babies - Pomona (Shit Happens) Sorxe - Hypnotizer Universal Mind Project - Xibalba Serenity - United In Dreams of Reality - Synced Generation Erszebeth - Parafilia The Dark Element - Dead to Me Deadspace - Reflux A Perfect Circle - The Doomed Falloch - The Carrying Light Adimiron - Stainless Heptaedium - Subpixel Carryover Two Souls Creature - The Beginning ~ Darkwell

And here are my MANY obsessions.

1) Anna Fiori - Fuego Negro

This is Anna's first single from her upcoming album and it is so beautiful. Her music is kinda like Within Temptation's gothic metal period, just heavier. I can't get enough of this track. Of everything I've heard from her, this has to be my favorite so far and I can't wait to hear more.

2) Aether Realm - The Devil

I discovered this song and band through a mutual on Twitter and got into pretty quickly. They're a blend of symphonic, black and folk metal and are also from the States, which blows my mind. It's rare that I find a band from the States that I actually think is really great, but a lot of American bands have been to my liking lately. This song is just pure epicness and is a journey from start to finish.

3) Marmozets - Habits

This song is so catchy and fun. It's more in your face than Play, but is just as fun and great. I'm so on board with this band and I hardly know anything about them other than that they have such a cool sound and that I'm totally digging them. The video is a bit strange, but oddly fits the song. Can't wait to hear their new album.

4) Regardless of Me - Losing You (In Loving Memory)

This is their newest single and I'm really into it. It's very different compared to the stuff I'm used to hearing from them with their previous singer. It's definitely more on the gothic metal side than the symphonic metal with hints of power metal that I'm used to, but is still really great. This song is so simple, but the execution is what makes it amazing. The chorus is everything and is what really sucks you in.

5) Evanescence - Lacrymosa

HO. LY. TITS. THAT FUCKING HIGH NOTE AT THE END. That's all I got to say on this AMAZING rendition of this already amazing song from them. Go listen to it, NOW.

6) Light Among Shadows - In the Dark of Dreams

I randomly came across this band in the recommended videos one day. Their singer is definitely different from the singers I'm used to, but her voice suits the music so well. It's a great jam that's pretty catchy.

7) Amberian Dawn - I'm the One

I am so beyond excited for their new album. This song alone is such a great representation of joining the old with the new. It has such a classic Amberian Dawn vibe to it, while still keeping it fresh and suitable for Capri. She fucking slays this song and it shows just how versatile her voice is and how broad her range is.

8) Shade Empire - Ruins

I wound up rekindling my love for song recently. It's a great jam for those of us who really enjoy symphonic black metal. According to the metal archives, they're an industrial metal band. Although I can understand why they say that, the industrial metal influences are so minimal and outshined that it goes unnoticed. But that aside, this song is epic and amazing and really need to listen to more from them.

9) Monolith Moon - Stages of Mind Catabolism

I'm finally getting around to listening to more from them and this song is some proggy goodness. I'm curious as to when they plan on releasing their full length album, because this debut EP is proving to be wonderful. I'm definitely am gonna continue to listen to more from them and keep and ear out for any upcoming release.

10) Banks - Better

I decided to give this a song a listen whilst listening to her one day and got hooked. It's a great jam and is a bit more raw compared to the stuff I've heard from her so far. I haven't heard a dud from her yet and am always looking forward to hearing more from her.

11) InAeona - Soldier

This is a sludge-ish post metal track that I discovered through their record label. It's such a great song to just chill to, but also great to jam to. That's the beauty of post metal, the aggression fused with the ambiance truly make it wonderful for anyone to listen to. Definitely am gonna check out more from them.

12) The Design Abstract - Metropolis I

Randomly came across these guys one day and now need to hear their new album. They have such an interesting sound for a prog band. They have such a strong electronic element, something that a lot of prog bands that I listen to don't have. It's so refreshing to hear something so different in the progressive metal scene.

13) Arch Enemy - The Race

This new album is proving to be a ballbuster and WAY better than War Eternal already. I can't wait to listen to it. This song just exudes Alissa's influence on the band, but is still so true to themselves and what they've always brought: a death metal assault full of raw energy.

14) Hallatar - My Mistake feat. Heike Langhans (Draconian)

This is hands down the most beautiful doom metal track I've heard so far this year. I so plan on buying this album (and hopefully a shirt) when I can do so. This song is just so heartbreaking and beautiful. If Trees of Eternity were to ever do a live show, they NEED to have Heike sing the songs, for she's the only singer who can truly match up to Aleah's ghostly voice and embody the heartbreakingly beautiful lyrics, just as she does with this song here. This song is perfection.

15) Marina and the Diamonds - How to be a Heartbreaker

Finally listening to more from her and this instantly became a jam. It's so much fun and so upbeat. I'm constantly finding myself singing it throughout the day. The video is such a great change and reversal of roles. It's so nice seeing men being objectified in a music video for once and the woman being the one who's in charge and isn't being sexualized whatsoever.

16) Gulsen - Bangir Bangir

Discovered this banger through an episode of Teens React when they reacted to Turkish pop music and I had to listen to this song on my own. The singer's voice is so wonderful and so different compared to so many pop artists you hear today and so different compared to the singers I listen to on the regular. This song is such a fun song to just jam out to and I literally can't stop listening to it. Why and how is it so good??? Oh, and have fun getting this song out of your head.

17) Dark Sarah - Trespasser feat. JP Leppaluoto

They're back at it again with a beautiful and powerful song. This song is exactly what was to be expected and more when we found out that Sarah wound encounter the Dragon again. The video is so different and unexpected, but then again we don't know how to story leads up to the point where this song/video take place, so it could easily make sense once we get the full context. I'm so looking forward to the song that features Zuberoa (Diabulus in Musica, Tragul) and I can't wait to hear what else Heidi has in store for us with this chapter of the story.

18) Snow Tha Product - Play

It's official. Snow is one of my favorite rappers. I knew she was really good, but after listening to this, it sealed the deal. Homegirl goes IN on this song. It's such a fun and great jam. DEFINITELY best when you got headphones in and the volume is turned up. Just give it a listen. You won't be unimpressed.

And that's it for this long start to November!

3 notes · View notes

afoolsingenuity · 7 years ago

Text

Bite Sized Books // Where I Declare My Love For Mariana Zapata’s Books

I have been intending to write a review for Mariana Zapata’s books for a good long while. A month, even! I read them when I was on holiday and adored them in every way. At least, the first ones I read (the two I read when I got home weren’t quite as good but they showed great potential). I knew I wanted to tell you guys how brilliant they were but I really couldn’t find the words to say why other than to flail and say read them! I still knew I had to feature them, though. There are just some books you have to talk about even when you’re utterly inelegant about them. I mean, even Zapata’s worst books were enjoyable they just weren’t up to scratch to my favourites from her.

The Ones I Adored

The Wall of Winnipeg and Me – Mariana Zapata

Published: 28th February 2016 Source: Bought Genre: Sports romance, Contemporary, Adult My Rating:

Vanessa Mazur knows she's doing the right thing. She shouldn't feel bad for quitting. Being an assistant/housekeeper/fairy godmother to the top defensive end in the National Football Organization was always supposed to be temporary. She has plans and none of them include washing extra-large underwear longer than necessary.

But when Aiden Graves shows up at her door wanting her to come back, she's beyond shocked.

For two years, the man known as The Wall of Winnipeg couldn't find it in him to tell her good morning or congratulate her on her birthday. Now? He's asking for the unthinkable. What do you say to the man who is used to getting everything he wants?

This was the first book from Zapata I heard about. I am a girl who loves romance, and more specifically sports romance, and I also adore fake relationships so when I heard there was a book which included all three of them you can bet I was interested in reading. Only problem? It was over 600 pages long. The average romance is like 300 pages, you can imagine I was intimidated by a book which was twice that. It’s why I didn’t bother buying until I knew I had all the time in the world to read it, when I was on holiday. I almost didn’t pick it up even then, luckily I avoided that mistake and found my first of my favourites from Zapata.

I adored Vanessa, she puts up with no crap and she didn’t swoon for Aiden just because he was some hot shot NFL player. She didn’t care. He had been a means to an end so could pursue her career. She handed in her notice and didn’t look back and I didn’t blame her as Aiden was annoying as hell, he was an island, and he didn’t stand up for her. She would have stayed focused an independent from Aiden if he hadn’t offered something she wanted, money to truly give her the independence she craved, she just had to marry him to help him stay in the US. Easy, right?

Well, it’s safe to say from there I fell in love as Aiden stayed being gruff and focused, but a little less of an island under Vanessa's influence. And I adored it. I didn’t even notice the length of the book because I was so invested in these characters. I swooned and sighed and grinned like and idiot and fell head over heels. I truly did, this was the best. Don’t be put off by the length but strap yourself in for a slow… very slow ride. This is the ultimate of slowburn. The romance moves at a glacial pace and it might frustrate the hell out of some. I was on the edge of my seat and loved every minute, though.

Dear Aaron – Mariana Zapata

Published: 10th June 2017

Source: Bought

Genre: Romance, Contemporary, Adult/New Adult

My Rating:

Ruby Santos knew exactly what she was getting herself into when she signed up to write a soldier overseas.

The guidelines were simple: one letter or email a week for the length of his or her deployment. Care packages were optional.

Been there, done that. She thought she knew what to expect.

What she didn’t count on was falling in love with the guy.

Then onto the second of Zapata’s books which I read. I hadn’t got this one on my radar until Nick reviewed it (funny how Nick often is the person who puts romance on my radar). I wasn’t quite as eager to get a hold of this one because Nick had said the pacing was a bit off with some of the romance and that it could have been shorter, the concern I had when it came to buying Wall of Winnipeg. I went ahead, though, because I loved the idea of a couple writing to one another and falling love. The concept slayed me and the reality was even better than expected.

Ruby and Aaron were so cute together. Ruby was brilliant and I loved that she lived with her parents still but was pursuing her career because I live at home too and it isn’t great but it’s a good means to and end. And Aaron was great building this friendship with Ruby as one of his few contacts back home so he could cope throughout his deployment.

I adored it and was totally sucked in from the start. I was gone for Aaron and adored Ruby from the very beginning. She was way geekier than me but I totally got her and her fandom ways and her quirkiness and how utterly why she is. I just connected with her straight away as I saw a lot of myself in her.

I loved how the format of the book demonstrated the progression in the relationship. We begin with emails being sent with them being a bit awkward as hey got to know one another and slowly connect. It then changes to IMs as the pair get closer and talk more often and it develops as they grow closer. It totally worked and I loved it.

This was such a cute book and I was expecting it to be angstier because Aaron was in the army but it actually was way more cute and fun and I loved it for that. It was nothing like I thought and everything which I wanted in a romance. I had a silly grin going on while I was reading and I'm not ashamed of that fact.

Kulti – Mariana Zapata

Published: 20th March 2015 Source: Bought Genre: Romance, Contemporary, Sports Romance, Adult My Rating:

“Trust me, I’ve wanted to punch you in the face a time or five.”

When the man you worshipped as a kid becomes your coach, it’s supposed to be the greatest thing in the world. Keywords: supposed to.

It didn’t take a week for twenty-seven-year-old Sal Casillas to wonder what she’d seen in the international soccer icon—why she’d ever had his posters on her wall, or ever envisioned marrying him and having super-playing soccer babies.

Sal had long ago gotten over the worst non-break-up in the history of imaginary relationships with a man that hadn’t known she’d existed. So she isn’t prepared for this version of Reiner Kulti who shows up to her team’s season: a quiet, reclusive, shadow of the explosive, passionate man he’d once been.

Nothing could have prepared her for the man she got to know.

Or the murderous urges he brought out in her.

“Sal, please don’t make me visit you in jail. Orange isn’t your color.”

This was going to be the longest season of her life.

And then the third, and in some ways my favourite. I actually had to figure out how to connect my Kindle to my phones internet to read this one while I was away because I brought it halfway through reading Dear Aaron because I knew I needed to read more Zapata and especially this one. It was another that had come onto my radar when I heard of Wall of Winnipeg because sports romance! I was put off by the fact it was a football (soccer) romance because I am not a huge fan of football, I see it enough on TV at home, do I really need to read a romance about it too. Also, the last sports romance which involved football I tried to read was Scoring Wilder and I hated it so I thought I might not like Kulti I was convinced by the fact Zapata wrote it and I am so glad I was.

I think this one clicked for me because I adored the fact it was a romance with an age gap. I was full on in love with Kulti too. Also, it was so similar to Pitch and my favourite ship in that (Mike/Ginny 4eva) that I was fully in love from the beginning.

This one was an enemies to lover romance and it was spot on. Even better, Sal wasn’t the usual girl in her early twenties falling in love but instead 27 and had several years playing on the football team who was focused on her career. She was determined to be the best she could be (with a few exceptions) and she was determined to do her best. And Reiner Kulti was a grumpy guy who had passed the peak in his career and who really didn’t want to be coaching when he was a world famous player. And he had been a dick to Sal’s brother and was basically horrible to anyone he spoke to and so Sal wasn’t willing to put up with crap from him at all.

I loved the dynamic between the two whenever they spoke and how throughout the book they grew closer. First, they became friends before any hope of romance happened. And then there was Sal’s family! I adored her parents and would have happily had them feature far more in the book. I would return to read more about Kulti and Sal’s life given half a chance.

This was the best kind of sports romance for me. It was about a female athlete for once and was absolutely brilliant. It even had a really good age difference romance for me to love. I will read all the books!

The Ones I Liked Less

Under Locke – Mariana Zapata

Published: 19th January 2014

Source: Bought

Genre: Contemporary, Romance

My Rating:

He was my boss, my brother’s friend, a Widower, an ex-felon, and a man I’d seen casually with a handful of women. But he was everything that gripped me, both the good and the bad. Worst case scenario if things turned awkward between us, I could go somewhere else. I’d gotten over epic heartbreak before, one more wouldn’t kill me.

After moving to Austin following six months of unemployment back home, Iris Taylor knows she should be glad to have landed a job so quickly... even if the business is owned by a member of the same motorcycle club her estranged father used to belong to. Except Dex Locke might just be the biggest jerk she’s ever met. He’s rude, impatient and doesn’t know how to tell time.

And the last thing they ever expected was each other.

But it was either the strip club or the tattoo shop.

… she should have chosen the strip club.

It just makes me sad when you read a book which doesn't work for you from an author you love. I mean, I still haven’t read all of Zapata’s books so there is still a chance there are more from her I don’t like but it made me sad as this was the first book by her I didn’t adore. It was partially a me thing for me to dislike it. I wasn’t a fan of the whole motorcycle gang aspect of the book. I may have enjoyed Sons of Anarchy but it’s a bit iffy when it comes to gang things. Also, when I began reading it was the last day on my holiday and my brain wasn’t totally focused on the book. That lack of focus when it came to reading this meant I didn’t become fully absorbed either.

It had all the usual marks of a Mariana Zapata book but it just missed the mark for me. I think it was the fact it was a biker gang book and Dex was just not what I wanted. He came across as a dick (hence the nickname in the book) and whilst he revealed a softer side his dickish tendencies were too much for me.

It was a good read for some, I’m sure, but not for me. It makes me sad but there always has to be one, right?

Lingus – Mariana Zapata

Published: 7th August 2015 Source: Bought Genre: Contemporary, Romance My Rating:

Most people would describe Katherine Berger as a responsible girl with a big heart, a loyal friend who takes care of those close to her, and the possessor of a wicked sense of humor. There was something about her that most people didn't know. "My name is Kat Berger, and I love porn."

When twenty-five-year-old Kat is dragged to a porn convention by her best friend, she's both embarrassed and nervous. The last thing she ever expected was to meet someone who makes her laugh like no other. This is a story about acceptance and friendship, and a love born out of the most unexpected of places.

This was a really good friends to lovers story and I enjoyed it. I didn't fall head over heels for it like Zapata's later books but you can see the essence of the great stories she writes and I did enjoy it. This only ended up on the bad list because I wasn’t head over heels and totally absorbed like I expected to be.

The book starts at a porn convention so it was safe to say I was a little hesitant going in to see whether I'd like it. Turns out it was hilarious and I enjoyed it. Sure, occasionally Kat and her friends seemed a bit OTT, almost like caricatures of who they really were because they were too much. But I did enjoy it and I loved Kat's close-knit group of friends and how they were all so close.

I thought some stuff went too fast in this book and some things too slow but the pacing wasn't a major issue. It was the first time I felt like a Zapata book was a touch too long though. I actually noticed a bit of a drag in the story towards the end.

As a whole it's a funny romance that I enjoyed as a weekend read. It may not have ticked all my boxes but it did tick a lot of them.

Now I have declared my undying love for Mariana Zapata I feel a strong need to go read those last two books by her. Who was the last author whose entire backlist you went and bought after one book? And any awesome romance authors you feel the need to recommend?

from Blogger http://ift.tt/2xeOKFt via IFTTT

#a fool's ingenuity #books

3 notes · View notes

stacks-reviews · 7 years ago

Text

Must Reads Part 14

This week we have a monster-slaying family, a floating city, a pet black hole, and more!

--Before She Ignites by Jodi Meadows “Before Mira Minkoba is the Hopebearer. Since the day she was born, she’s been told she’s special. Important. Perfect. She’s known across the Fallen Isles not just for her beauty, but for the Mira Treaty named after her, a peace agreement which united the seven islands against their enemies on the mainland. But Mira has never felt as perfect as everyone says. She counts compulsively. She struggles with crippling anxiety. And she’s far too interested in dragons for a girl of her station. After Then Mira discovers an explosive secret that challenges everything she and the Treaty stand for. Betrayed by the very people she spent her life serving, Mira is sentenced to the Pit - the deadliest prison in the Fallen Isles. There, a cruel guard would do anything to discover the secret she would die to protect. No longer beholden to those who betrayed her, Mira must learn to survive on her own and unearth the dark truths about the Fallen Isles - and herself - before her very world begins to collapse.”

The preview on Goodreads first shows Mira as she address the citizens of her home island about a recent earthquake and then she goes off to a walled area where dragons come and go as they please. The next chapters then cuts to her being lead into the Pit. As of this moment we do not know what she discovered that caused someone(s) to betray her. But I have heard there is something to do with some illegal dragon trafficking. Which sounds amazing for a few reasons. What small look we did get at the dragons in the first chapter is that there are a lot of different types and they don’t speak; unlike most other fantasy stories. I can really get behind a giant dragon rescue mission. It sounds promising but I have also heard that it time hopes quite a bit so there is some worry it could get confusing. But as long as they explain it at the top of the chapter, then it should be fine. And saw on some of the reviews that how Mira does her counting and how anxiety gets to her is portrayed in a real way in the book.

--The Care and Feeding of a Pet Black Hole by Michelle Cuevas “A girl’s friendship with a lonely black hole leads her to face her own sadness. When eleven-year-old Stella Rodriguez shows up at NASA to request that her recording be included in Carl Sagan’s Golden Record, something unexpected happens: A black hole follows her home, and sets out to live in her house as a pet. The black hole swallows everything he touches, which is challenging to say the least - but also turns out to be a convenient way to get rid of those items that Stella doesn’t want around. Soon the ugly sweaters her aunt has made for her all disappear within the black hole, as does the smelly class hamster she’s taking care of, and most important, all the reminders of her dead father that are just too painful to have around. It’s not until Stella, her younger brother, Cosmo, the family puppy, and even the bathroom tub all get swallowed up by the black hole that Stella comes to realize she has been letting her own grief consume her. And that’s not the only thing she realizes as she attempts to get back home.”

A short children’s book, a little under 200 pages. It sounds pretty cute and silly as various items are sucked into the black hole (I wonder what she’ll name it?). I did read the preview on Goodreads but half of it a list of all the chapters and such do I didn’t get to see much of it. It starts with Stella trying to get into NASA to see Carl Sagan when alarms start to go off. She leaves but as she does has a feeling like something is watching her. It ends with her getting back on a bus to go home and as she passes people on the bus, something of theirs goes missing. Mainly wallets. Aside from a cute story it sounds like a good reflection of how one deals with grief and depression and how that impacts you and everything around you.

--Children of the Whales Volume 1 by Abi Umeda (11/21/17) “In this post-apocalyptic fantasy, a sea of sand swallows everything but the past. In an endless sea of sand drifts the Mud Whale, a floating island city of clay and magic. In its chambers a small community clings to survival, most dying young from the very powers that sustain them. Chakuro is the Archivist for the Mud Whale, diligently chronicling the lives and deaths of his people. As one of the saimia wielders, whose life spans are cut short by their own magic, he knows his time is limited and is determined to leave a better record than his predecessors. But the steady pace of their isolated existence on the Mud Whale is abruptly shattered when a young girl who seems to know more about their home than they do...”

I heard about this manga earlier this year when it was picked up by Viz. I didn’t know much about it till now. I really want to try this series out. I like the look of the artwork on the cover and the story sounds really interesting. An anime based off the series is being made (is finished?) and will be on Netflix in the US in 2018.

--Confessions of an Imaginary Friend: A Memoir by Jacques Papier by Michelle Cuevas “Jacques Papier has the sneaking suspicion that everyone except his sister Fleur hates him. Teachers ignore him when his hand is raised in class, he is never chosen for sports teams, and his parents often need to be reminded to set a place for him at the dinner table. But he is shocked when he finally learns the truth: He is Fleur’s imaginary friend! When he convinces Fleur to set him free, he begins a surprising and touching, and always funny quest to find himself - to figure out who Jacques Papier truly is, and where he belongs.”

Actually came across this title while re-looking up the description to The Care and Feeding of a Pet Black Hole. It sounds really cute and also a bit sad. Who can’t relate to feeling a little invisible now and again? Jacques won’t be the only imaginary friend in the story, it is another imaginary friend that lets him in on the truth.

--Odd & True by Cat Winters “Trudchen grew up hearing Odette’s stories of their monster-slaying mother and a magician’s curse. But now that Tru’s older, she’s starting to wonder if her older sister’s tales were just comforting lies, especially because there’s nothing fantastic about her own life - permanently disabled and in constant pain from childhood polio. In 1909, after a two-year absence, Od reappears with a suitcase supposedly full of weapons and a promise to rescue Tru from the monsters on their way to attack her. But it’s Od who seems haunted by something. And when the sisters’ search for their mother leads them to a face-off with the Leeds Devil, a nightmarish beast that’s wreaking havoc in the Mid-Atlantic states, Tru discovers the peculiar possibility that she and her sister - despite their dark pasts and ordinary appearances - might indeed, have magic after all.”

So we have a monster-slaying family in 1909 that used to live in a castle, monster-slaying mother might have disappeared or been captured, a father who definitely has disappeared because of the magician, evil magician is their uncle (not a spoiler, it was in the first chapter on the preview), and a heroine who is going to have do most of her fighting with a cane or while she’s in a wheelchair. Sounds like a good time. And I wasn’t going to mention it at first but I changed my mind: It sounds like a time and gender-bent version of Supernatural. I would like to try it out.

1 note · View note

pengychan · 8 years ago

Text

Te Rerenga Wairua - Ch. 11

Title: Te Rerenga Wairua Summary: Found by the gods drifting at sea, Maui always assumed he had been thrown in it to drown. When that assumption is challenged, there is only one way to find closure: speaking to his long-departed family. But it’s never a smooth sail to the Underworld, and he’ll need help from a friend - plus a token that fell in the claws of an old enemy long ago. Characters: Maui, Moana, Tamatoa Rating: K Prologue and links to all chapters up so far here.

When he returned to the village whose ship Tamatoa had sunken last, bringing their stolen goods back to them and promising that the monster would never again bother them, Maui was met with celebrations he failed to enjoy and happiness he failed to match.

He accepted their praise, smiled back at them, toasted with them, watched the dances around the fire and, before long, his smiles were almost genuine. It was good to watch the humans’ relief at having something so important back, at knowing they were finally safe.

But they are not. Tamatoa is still around.

He won’t dare. Not after this.

That’s what you thought last time, too.

Maui did his best to chase away the thought. He laughed, he drank, he boasted, he re-enacted the fight before the adoring crowd; with food in his belly, drink in his veins and praise in his ears, he almost enjoyed himself. Almost, because when he reached out to rip away an imaginary leg he froze, and he could swear he tasted something bitter in his throat. He held nothing in his hands, but for a moment he almost felt the wetness of blood on his fingers, the final twitches of the torn appendage against his palms.

No one noticed, though, because the next moment the chief - well in his cups himself - was speaking, his voice booming. “Thank the Gods you were there!” he called out, and lifted yet another cup. “To Maui, for slaying the monster!”

“TO MAUI!”

I didn’t slay him, Maui wanted to say, but before he could even open his mouth a young boy looked up at him.

“My brother’s spirit can be at peace now that you killed the monster who sank his boat,” he said, solemn-eyed, and any semblance of pride turned into ash in Maui’s mouth.

I did not. I couldn’t do it.

For a moment the confession almost, almost left him. But it felt all the world like he’d admit to a weakness and, after another look at their beaming faces, he decided not to tell the truth. They felt safe at long last, and he didn’t want to take that from them, to watch all that joy turn into fear and loathing yet again. So he said nothing.

Still, a few days later, once the celebrations had ended, he took it upon himself to return to Tamatoa’s island to make absolutely sure he had gotten the message. He didn’t want to do it - didn’t want to even think about that backstabber again - but he had misjudged the effectiveness of his warning once already and humans had paid the price. He wouldn’t take that risk now.

Kill him, then.

No. It won’t be needed.

Still, there was no further warning to be given, because by the time he returned the island was deserted. Tamatoa’s cave was empty, neither him nor his treasure anywhere in sight; that was what convinced Maui that he wasn’t just away for a stroll on the bottom of the ocean. He was just… gone. Even standing on top of the highest cliff in the island, he couldn’t see him anywhere. It was as if–

“If you want my guess, he’s off to Lalotai.”

The voice rang out suddenly, causing Maui to wince. He turned abruptly, hook held high, but he immediately lowered it when he saw the figure before him. Head of a bird, body of a man, tail of a fish; the Manaia in one of their many forms, the messenger between the world of the living and the domain of the spirits.

They would go missing shortly after that day, a few decades before Maui’s doomed attempt at taking the heart of Te Fiti; gone from the world without the living or the dead having the slightest clue of where they may be. But right there and then, they were standing before Maui, who hadn’t heard them coming. Few ever did, until they decided to make their presence known.

“Never asked to hear your guess, but since you already shared it, whatever. I take it you watched us?”

“Yes.”

“You know, there’s this funny game some of us like to play. It’s called ‘minding your own business’. You should give it a go.”

The Manaia shrugged. Despite their bizarre form, that gesture carried a kind of otherworldly elegance. “Can you blame me for keeping an eye on you, after you messed with Hine-nui-te-pō?” he asked, tilting their head on one side. “You almost cost me my job. What point is there for a messenger to the world of spirits if anyone can come and go as they please?”

Maui sighed, shifting his weight a bit awkwardly. “… Right. Well. I won’t be trying to get into the Underworld again, that’s for sure.”

The Manaia chuckled, and their form shifted in that of a sea serpent, covered in fish-like iridescent scales. “That’s what you say now, but It seems to me that you very nearly did. The thieving crab almost sent you in it the traditional way.”

Maui snorted. “Yeah, almost being the key word. He was too slow, he didn’t kill me and here I am. So, you think he went to Lalotai?”

“That was the direction he took. Will you follow him to deal the last blow?”

Maui blinked, taken aback. “What?”

“Is that not the reason why you returned? To finish him?”

“Wha… no, I–” Maui paused and turned to the west - towards Lalotai. He stared for a few moments and then scowled. He glanced down on his chest, where an effigy of himself was left holding onto the sun on its own. “You know what? Never mind why I came here. It doesn’t matter. He’s exactly where he belongs, and well away from humans. That’s all I need to know. We’re done,” he added, and lifted his fishhook. “Chee-hoo!”

He flew towards the sun without pausing to look back once, unaware of the fact the being he was leaving behind would not be seen again by a living or dead soul for a long time to come.

***

“If I get out of here I will never, ever set foot in another cave.”

Moana’s exasperated voice bounced from one wall to the other for a few moments before losing itself into nothingness. There was no other sound, no reply: only complete silence, as it had been since she’d begun exploring the maze. Silence, cave after cave covered in bioluminescent algae, absolutely no treasure, no sounds and most of all not a soul to be found. After wandering for what felt like hours, Moana felt she actually wouldn’t mind terribly meeting a few Ponaturi; fighting for her life would probably be better than feeling like she was moving in a circle in complete nothingness.

Ancestors, maybe she was moving in a circle; there was some sort of magic imbued in that place, and perhaps it was meant to keep her in there, unable to find her way out.

A Wayfinder who can’t wayfind. Now that’s a funny joke.

Moana made an effort to chase away the thought and keep moving. Maui and Tamatoa were somewhere in there - maybe they were lost, too? - and she would have to run into them sooner or later. Possibly sooner, before the sun rose, because if that happened while they were still in there–

A sudden noise severed all further thought, causing Moana to recoil and turn to the cave’s entrance with her spear held tightly in her hand. The sound came again, and now she could tell what it was - massive steps.

Tamatoa!

Moana opened her mouth to call out, but relief disappeared as quickly as it had filled her, leaving only dread behind. Something wasn’t right: she knew what Tamatoa’s steps sounded like, and that was not it. There was also the sound of something being dragged across the stone floor, something huge and heavy, and then a sudden hiss. It made her think of the sound a large fire would make if suddenly extinguished with water, and it made her grip the spear a bit tighter, mind working at full speed.

Whatever was coming her way was big - huge, even - and it would probably outrun her if she tried to flee, just like Tamatoa had when she’d distracted him with a fake heart of Te Fiti. Facing it was the best option she had, especially with a bracelet that could make the size of whatever… thing was lurking ahead irrelevant. She just had to be fast, use it before the creature could get to her, and then she’d actually have the upper hand.

Or at least so she hoped.

There were more steps and, yet again, something sliding across the floor, followed by another hissing, breathy sound. It was close now, so close, just behind the corner, and Moana knew she had to act before it saw her first. She had the element of surprise, and she needed to use it.

Moana flattened herself against the wall near the entrance, and listened. The huge steps were coming closer… closer still… right by her…!

Now!

She leaped out of her hiding place onto the being’s path, and lifted the hand with the bracelet before wasting any time looking. “Iti haere!”

“Wha– hey! HEY! What gives?”

Moana blinked, arm still raised, the spear still in her hand. She lowered both slowly, and tilted her head on one side. “Oh,” she said.

“Oh? Oh? That’s not going to cut it! Turn me back this very inst– hey! Careful where you point that! You could hurt– oh, wait. That’s the point, I wager?”

Moana found herself smiling a bit. “Glad you’ve caught on. What are you doing here, uh… Pirifei?”

The red lizard - who had been a giant red lizard only moments before, but was now no bigger than Tamatoa in his own shrunken state - shot her a seriously annoyed look with gleaming yellow eyes. “It’s Pilifeai, if you don’t mind.”

“Sorry. Pilifeai. I won’t get it wrong again,” she repeated agreeably, but did not lower the spear. “So, what are you doing here?”

A scoff. “Well, what does it look like? I was following you guys.”

Moana raised an eyebrow. “You say that like it’s normal.”

“Well, what else I could do?” Pilifeai protested. “I waited forever for you to come out - all right, so maybe a hour? - and then got bored. I missed out all the fun in the Vault already. I wanted to come in this time and see how you were doing. Not too well, huh? Those two idiots aren’t with you. I take it you’re lost. And look, so am I. We have something in common, who would have guessed? Here’s an idea on how to celebrate this discovery: you turn me back my size right away! Huh? How about that?”

Moana put the spear down, but made no gesture to lift the hand with the bracelet. “You don’t really think that’s going to work, do you?”

Pilifeai sighed. “Not really.I assume you’re worried that I’d turn you into a snack the moment you do?”

“Just a bit, yes.”

“I didn’t try to do you any harm since I began following you! I just want to see what’s going to happen with those two idiots, honest. I have no intention to get involved.”

Moana had to concede that he really hadn’t tried anything, but on the other hand it may simply have been due to the fact she had hardly ever been apart from Maui and Tamatoa until then. “How many reasons do I have to trust you?”

The lizard opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He blinked up at Moana. Moana’s eyebrow went up again. His tongue flickered through the air for a few moments before he finally sighed. The red spikes on his head seemed to go somewhat limp. “Fair enough. You don’t really have any, do you?”

“Nope. As far as I was told, you would have eaten Tamatoa if Maui hadn’t intervened.”

“He didn’t intervene as much as he stumbled in at the wrong moment, but fine,” Pilifeai muttered with a scoff. “Still, I’d like to point out the irony of holding me accountable for trying to eat your buddy, who just happens to have tried to eat you before you were buddies.”

Moana wasn’t sure she would have described Tamatoa as her ‘buddy’, but she found she had nothing to object to the definition either, so in the end she simply shrugged. “He earned my trust.”

Pilifeai grinned up at her. Even smaller, his fangs were still sharp. “I see. What do I have to do to be afforded such luxury?”

Well. Now that was something Moana could work with. “Help me find the way out,” she said, crouching down. “I can’t seem to find it on my own, but we might just find it together. Once I’m back with Maui and Tamatoa, I’ll restore you to your usual size.”

The lizard looked up at her with narrowed eyes. “And how do I know you won’t let them just squash me the moment we find them?”

“You have my word.”

“So my word is not enough, but yours is?”

“It’s all I can give you. On my ancestors, I promise I will restore you to your normal size if you help me find my friends.”

Pilifeai’s snout scrunched up in a grimace. “Ugh, you humans and your ancestors. Did you know that some of them kicked my tail all the way back to Lalotai just for spending some time in a lagoon?”

“Did they?”

“Yes! Humans tried to get me to leave on their own, with some pathetic spears like that one, but of course it was like they were throwing toothpicks at me. When they realized I was just too much for them, they prayed to their ancestors and they ganged up on me. Talk about unfair. Wait, you’re not going to send your ancestors after me, are you?” Pilifeai added, suddenly alarmed. Moana opened her mouth to tell him that of course not, she wasn’t even sure how one could do it, but she stopped herself just on time. Instead, she shrugged.

“If you help me, I won’t call my ancestors on you. And I will restore you to your full size.”

Pilifeai glared at her for a few more moments before letting out a sigh. “And we’re back to the problem of me having to trust your word, aren’t we?”

“Afraid so. Have we got a deal?”

They did.

***

“Found anything?”

Maui’s voice reached Tamatoa from the next cave over, causing him to sigh, eyes wandering across yet another treasure-less room. This one seemed to be used for storing food, and was filled with fruit, coconuts and dried fish - but nothing even vaguely shiny. Not that he was one to shy away from a free meal, but at the moment he had other priorities. So it was a disappointment, if one that could be mitigated by a bite or two.

“Tamatoa?” Maui’s voice came again, and the giant crab turned back to the exit of the room.

“Nope,” he said through a mouthful. “No treasure and no human.”

There was a moment of silence, then Maui peered into the cave. “… Are you eating?”

“Just having a snack.”

“Does this look like the right moment to you?”

“I’m stressed, man. I eat when I’m stressed.”

A groan. “Just get your butt over here and let’s go back looking. I’m not sure how much time we have left before daybreak, but it can’t be much.”

“Is this the part where I point out we’d have more time if you hadn’t decided to make days longer and nights shorter?”

Maui rolled his eyes. “Don’t even start. And I didn’t do it on my own - you helped, remember? You got a pearl in exchange and it’s not like I had to drag you there kicking and screaming.”

Tamatoa’s gaze fell on Maui’s chest, where a tattoo showed him holding onto the sun all by himself. For a moment he almost snapped that it was a wonder he did remember that detail, given how he’d been erased from the narrative, but he found he wasn’t in the mood for another argument. He wanted to find the treasure, find the human, and show himself to those two old hags so shiny he’d blind them. And Maui was right on something: they had little time to do it without the Ponaturi returning to the caves and making everything a lot more complicated.

“Fine, fine,” he finally conceded, stepping away from the pile of food. “But I really hope you have a better plan than just walking around– whoa, hey!” Tamatoa let out a yelp when something gave in beneath him, and one of his legs suddenly sank through the rocky floor, throwing him entirely off balance. He fell with a grunt, causing the cave to shake, and realized his leg was trapped when he tried to lift himself. “Wha…?”

Maui, who had approached quickly, took one look at him before concern gave way to a grin. “Well, looks like the floor gave in. Maybe someone should lay off snacks for a while, huh?”

“Oh, har har,” Tamatoa grumbled, and tried again to pull his leg free - but he’d fallen sideways at an awkward angle, and getting himself in the right position to pull his leg back up through the hole in the rock was trickier than he’d expected.

“Wait, let me help,” Maui said, and moved in so quickly that Tamatoa had no time to retort - not until he’d grabbed his trapped limb, and panic suddenly flared up, causing him to cry out and his bioluminescence to flicker out of control.

“No! Wait! Don’t!”

The panicked screech caused Maui to immediately still and let go. He looked up at him, and confusion gave way to realization after only one moment. He looked away, and reached up to rub the back of his neck. “… I won’t do anything to you. Honest. I’m just gonna help,” he said, still not looking at him.

Tamatoa knew that was true, of course. Deep down he’d known from the start that Maui had no intention to tear off another of his limbs, and that he only meant to help him dislodge it from the hole. Yet, the moment he’d felt Maui grabbing his leg, all rational thinking had gone right out of the window, leaving only mindless terror behind - and now that it was subsiding, Tamatoa actually felt kind of stupid for shrieking like that.

“Ah. Right. I was just– you, huh. Stepped on one of my antennae. Yes. That was it,” Tamatoa mumbled, getting his bioluminescence back under control. There was no possible physical way Maui could have actually stepped on either of his antennae, and of course Maui knew it, but he immediately nodded at his explanation.

“Sure. Sorry about that. Will be more careful,” he said, and grabbed Tamatoa’s leg again, his movements slower. “Okay. On three you throw your weight on the left and I pull, all right?”

“All right.”

“Good. One… two…”

“Wait!”

“What now?”

“… Be gentle.”

“I’m so very happy no one is here to listen to this exchange, Crabcake.”

“Hey, I’m delicate!”

“I’ll pretend not to have heard that. Let’s start this over, okay? One, two… three!”

Tamatoa forced himself to bite back the fear that threatened to resurface as soon as he felt Maui’s grip on his limb tightening, and just did as he was told: he threw his weight to his left and pulled just as Maui did. There was a scraping sound, some stone crumbling and falling down below, and Tamatoa’s leg was free within instants - all in one piece, the plaques covering it hardly even scratched. The joint felt a little sore when he stood and put his full weight on it, but it was hardly even pain. He could take it.

“I’m sure that floor was already brittle when I stepped on it,” Tamatoa muttered after taking a few steps. “Nothing to do with snacks. You know what, it was probably the weight of my shinies that– hey, what are you looking at?”

For a few moments, Maui didn’t reply: he just stayed perched beside the hole, peering into it. When he glanced up, his face was split in a grin. “Come take a look, Crabby. Looks like you hit the jackpot.”

Tamatoa blinked. “I did?” he asked, approaching to take a look. He crouched down, eyestalks moving closer to the hole. “What do you– oooh, I see!” he exclaimed, and grinned. Below them, there was something glowing in the light of the bioluminescent algae: it was treasure, heaps and heaps of it. “Their treasure stash! We found it!”

Maui laughed. “No, you found it,” he said, giving his pincer a light bump with his fist. “Actually, you found a whole part of this place I didn’t think existed. I was sure this had to be the lowest level, but I was wrong. And you know what that means?”

“Yes, that this place is way too big for that bunch of– oh, wait!” Tamatoa exclaimed, antennae perking up. “The human! Moana might be there - that’s what you mean, right? Isn’t it?”

Maui’s grin widened even more. “Jackpot again. Well, looks like we’ve got more caves to look into. Think you can widen the hole enough for both of us to go down, or shall I do it?”

Tamatoa laughed, and lifted his pincers. “If I can?” he said, snapping his claws. “Move aside and watch how it’s done.”

He made a short job of the stone floor: a few well-placed blows were all it took for it to crumble, which proved it was already brittle to begin with. Tamatoa fell through it, but he was perfectly happy to land on top of the pile of treasure. He would also have been perfectly happy to stay in it, really.

“This is it, Maui! This is definitely some of my treasure! I’d recognize that diamond anywhere! I’m sure those hags will be at a loss for words when they see it!”

“That’s great. Think you can stop rolling in it now?”

“Two more minutes!”

“We need to look for Moana.”

“One minute? I’ll just stick all I can to my shell and–”

“We’ll pick it up on our way back. Come on, Crabcake. Moana first and treasure second, remember?”

Right, Tamatoa thought, priorities. With a regretful sigh, he forced himself to get up and walk away from the pile of treasure. “Fine, fine. The human first,” he said, and glanced around. There were a few openings leading to yet more caves and passages in the wall, but some of them were definitely too small for him to fit through… and the human was the one who could shrink him. “So, what now? We split up?”

Maui followed his gaze, and nodded. “Seems like the best plan. You check out the bigger ones. Use a claw or something to mark your way on the wall, because last thing we need is getting separated for good,” he added, throwing the fishhook over his shoulder. “First one to find her yells. We’ll be meeting again here. Questions?”

“Did you like the song?”

Maui looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. “You mean the one with that entire section on how I was abandoned, I wasn’t tough enough and you were going to eat me?” he asked, deadpanned. “That song?”

Tamatoa shifted a bit. “… On second thought, don’t answer. I’ll ask the human.”

***

“So, are you going to keep doing that for long?”

“Doing what?”

“Licking the air.”

“Do you want us to get out of here or not, human? I’m working on it.”

“… By licking the air?”

Pilifeai gave an indignant snort. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m smelling my surroundings.”

“With your tongue?”

“We don’t all work like you humans do, thank the Gods,” the lizard said sourly, and flickered his tongue through the air yet again before heaving a sigh. “Still nothing.”

“What smell are you trying to pick up, exactly?”

The lizard shrugged. “The crab’s would be my best bet. He positively reeks of Lalotai, no matter how many baubles he puts on himself and how much he claims he’s better than the rest of us,” he muttered. “Unless he and the demigod got separated as well, if we find him, we find both. At which point we’d all still be lost, but we could work out something together. Would be good if you remembered you promise, by the way. I help you, you turn me back.”

“I won’t forget it,” Moana promised. “So, how did you get in without the Ponaturi noticing you?”

Pilifeai shrugged as she walked through another passage. “I swam. There’s an underwater entrance, too. No idea how they keep it from flooding the whole place since we’re beneath the sea - some kind of magic trick, I guess - but it was a good way to get in. Except that as soon as I stepped into a passage–”

“… You felt like you were falling, and winded up someplace else?”

“Hu-uh,” the lizard mumbled, and shot her a look. “You too, eh?”

“Yes,” Moana admitted, and gave a small smile. “Fell in the same trap. Another common ground, I guess.”

“Hah! True enough,” Pilifeai sniggered. “Oh, and also fish. Do humans still like fish?”

“Oh, very much.”

“That’s another point. I also like sunbathing, but there isn’t much sun to be had in Lalotai.”

Moana frowned. “Why do you live in it, then?”

“Oh, last time I went out humans decided I was bothersome - I supposed I didn’t try too hard to be a good neighbour, to be absolutely fair - and their ancestors sort of chased me back in it. It was one exhausting swim to get them off my tail, let me tell you. I’m not too eager to repeat the experience,” he said, and paused a few moments to let his tongue flicker through the air before moving on and speaking again. “Lalotai is not half bad when you get used to it, you know.”

Moana didn’t think she’d last long enough in it to learn to enjoy it in the first place, but decided not to say as much. “No place like home?” she guessed instead.

“Yes, that’s the gist of it. That sparkly primadonna, though - always complaining about the bad rep Lalotai monsters get and trying to set himself apart. Everyone who heard about him was snickering about it. I can’t for my life begin to guess why in the world he decided to settle there in the first place - he didn’t even grow up there. I don’t think he even likes it.”

“Maybe he wanted to return to the home of his ancestors?” Moana guessed, but she wasn’t too sure herself. For her entire life she had felt the call to the sea, the call to the ways of her forefathers - but, if Pilifeai was telling the truth, that didn’t seem to be the case with Tamatoa.

As she’d half-expected, Pilifeai snorted. “If that was it, it wasn’t a great idea. His ancestors liked it, sure enough, but they weren’t like him. No delusions of grandeur, if you get what I mean - at least not the few I met. I tended to stay out of the way, since I was kind of small myself by the time they were dying out. They’d sooner get algae growing on their shells for blending than trinkets to stand out, and wouldn’t get all offended if someone called them bottom-feeders - that’s what they were. Tamatoa is–”

“Different?”

“A delusional idiot.”

“… I think ‘different’ works just as well.”

Pilifeai laughed. “Hah! You’re tender-hearted, aren’t you? Now I see why he took a shine on you. Just stroke his ego a bit and–” he suddenly trailed off and froze before flickering his tongue in the air yet again, causing Moana to blink.

“What is it? Are you smelling something?”

The lizard looked up at her and bared his fangs in a grin. “I smell idiot crab, that’s what. This way!” he called out, and darted forward, so quick that Moana had to run to keep up. And run she did because really, she’d had enough of that creepy place and she’d feel so, so much better once she found Maui and Tamatoa again.

***

“Human! Hey, babe! Are you there? Just yell or something!”

Tamatoa paused to listen, but he could hear nothing except the fading echo of his own voice through the caves. He let out a sigh, antennae going limp. Just how much further did that maze go? He was beginning to feel that place may turn out to be as big as Lalotai or something. How could the Ponaturi find their way out to the surface every night without half of them getting hopelessly lost? At that rate they were never going to find the human and–

“Maui! Tamatoa!”

That caused Tamatoa to stop in his tracks, eyes widening and antennae perking up again. He hadn’t just imagined that, had he? He opened his mouth to call out again, but he didn’t have to: the next moment he heard the sound of running steps, and right afterwards Moana came running into the cave on those skinny little legs of hers, stopping just short of crashing against one of his pincers. She looked out of breathe but perfectly, wonderfully fine.

“Hey, Maui! It’s the human! I found her!” Tamatoa called out, his voice echoing through the maze before he turned back her. He picked her up with one pincer, bringing her before his eyes to check her over. “All in one piece, babe?”

She laughed, holding onto his claw with both hands. “Pretty sure I am.”

“I think you almost gave Maui a heart attack, you know. Don’t go off like that ever again.”

Another laugh. “Oh, I won’t. I’m so happy to see you.”

Tamatoa blinked. “You are?” he asked, unable to hold back some puzzlement before he caught himself and grinned broadly. “I mean– of course you’re happy to see me! Who wouldn’t be happy to lay their eyes on this magnificence?” he added, lifting her up on top of his head, where she could sit and hold onto the base of his antennae. “You’d have to be blind not to, ri–”

“Hey! HEY! You promised, remember? Turn me back!”

… Huh?

Tamatoa looked down, and it took him a couple of moments to find the source of the angry, squeaky voice - but, once he did, he found himself grinning so wide that his face hurt. “Well well well,” he muttered, taking a step forward and causing the tiny, tiny red lizard to scrambled back in alarm. “Looks like someone just got the bracelet treatment. An improvement, really. You’re almost cute. So cute I could eat–”

Pilifeai’s eyes darted up to Moana. “Er. Human? I think this would be an excellent moment to– no, wait! Stay away!”

“Tamatoa, stop!” Moana called out, causing him to freeze and turn one eyestalk to look at her. “I promised him you wouldn’t hurt him. So don’t.”

What, seriously? Tamatoa frowned, disappointed. “But I didn’t promise anything!”

“Please. He helped me find you.”

“Oh. I thought I had found you?”

“Well, it kinda worked both ways, didn’t it?”

“I could smell your stench twenty caves away,” Pilifeai spoke up, gaining himself a glare from Tamatoa and an unimpressed retort from Moana.

“… Look, I’m trying here, but you’re not helping your cas–”

“Moana!”

“Ooof! Hey! Easy, man!” Tamatoa protested, but Maui - who had somehow landed right on the back of his neck, barely missing the now closed-up wound - paid him absolutely no mind: he just grabbed Moana and held her in a crushing hug.

“Oh, you’re safe! You almost gave me a heart attack!”

She laughed, throwing her arms around his neck. “So I was told. I’m fine, really. Did you–”

“A-hem. Excuse me. Aren’t you forgetting a little detail here?”

Maui let go of Moana and blinked, looking down at the lizard from all the way up the top of Tamatoa’s head. “… Pilifeai?”

“In the scales,” was the dry reply. “I helped your friend find you, but no worries, I don’t want your thanks. I’d just really like her to keep her half of the bargain and turn me back my size.”

Maui tilted his head on one side. “Did you follow us in here?”

“Well…”

“Of course he did. Creep,” Tamatoa muttered, and turned an eyestalk back to Moana. “Are you sure I can’t eat him?”

“Sorry, but no. I promised to turn him back his size as soon as we were out of here.”

“What? Not true! You promised to turn me back as soon as we found your friends!”

Tamatoa frowned. “That doesn’t seem like a good idea. This place is too small for both of us.”

Pilifeai scoffed. “Oh, spare me that crap! The only thing that’s too small is your stupid brai–”

“No, I mean, literally,” Tamatoa cut him off, looking around. “I mean, most of these caves are big enough for me to walk in, but both of us? Would be a tight fit. The human is right, you should wait until we’re out.”

“Oh,” Pilifeai said, and looked around. “… Fair enough. I hadn’t thought about it. So, did you find a way out?”

Tamatoa grinned. “Sure we did! Oh, and we also found their treasure stash, human! You won’t believe how much of my stuff is in it…!”

***

As it turned out, the hairpin wasn’t among the trinkets and gems to be found in the Ponaturi’s treasure stash: Maui had looked through it all, kept an eye on everything Tamatoa was sticking to his shell, and yet he had seen nothing that looked even vaguely like it might be a hairpin. It looked like they’d have to go find the Taniwha next, and hope that they had it.

Because after that, Maui would be all out of ideas and places to look. He said nothing, but of course Moana had to guess, because she put a hand on his arm as they walked. “Don’t worry. We’ve defied worse odds,” she said. “And besides–”

“Oh, look, we’re out now! You can turn me back to normal,” Pilifeai pointed out, cutting her off.

They had just stepped through the opening he and Tamatoa had found earlier, the one leading to a secluded beach. And just on time, too: the sun was not out yet, but the sky was so much lighter than before, dawn just about to break. The Ponaturi were probably returning in their caves already, but even if they found out right away that their stash of treasure was gone they would be unable to exit the caves again until sundown. At least that was a problem they’d managed to avoid.

Beside him, Moana sighed and restored Pilifeai to his normal size. The giant lizard, now once again giant, shook his head as though trying to rid himself of a bad thought. “Finally! Being small is dreadful. How do you manage– ow!”

“Get out of the way, creep! You’re blocking the exit!”

“What happened to your manners, crab?”

“I ate my manners,” was the retort, followed by the snap of a claw. Pilifeai grumbled, but he did move out of the way, and Tamatoa walked out of the opening just as the first rays of sun appeared at the horizon, causing the shiny patches on his shell - now far bigger than before - to sparkle, and him to grin. “That’s so much better. Give me a minute to show off, will you?”

Maui gave a guffawing laugh. “A minute, sure,” he muttered, leaning against the stone cliff and elbowing Moana lightly. “This is going to take a while and will probably involve another song or two. Get comfy,” he said, causing her to blink in confusion.

“Wait, what’s going on?”

“You just watch.”

And they all did watch when Tamatoa walked up to the boulders that were not boulders at all, sometimes that was now made clearer by the light of the dawn. Moana realized what she was looking at after a few moments and let out a small gasp. “Are those…?”

“Yep,” Maui said, and he was about to add he had been surprised too, but before he could say a word Tamatoa spoke up, walking up to the sleeping giant crabs with the most self-satisfied expression he had ever seen on him… and really, that was saying a lot.

“Hey there! Wakey wakey! Want to see something really amazing?” he asked, walking closer. “Just a word of warning, you might feel intimidated by how glorious I am but hey, don’t let it keep you from having a good look, all right? I’m not at my very best yet, but still pretty impressive if I say so myself! So, what do you have to say now?”

No answer.

“Huh. Heavy sleepers, aren’t you? C’mon! Just wake up! You don’t want to miss this!”

Nothing, not the most minute movement - not even the slightest rise and fall to indicate that they were–

Wait, Maui thought. Wait a sec.

The young these days - they will step on the elderly on their deathbed, and then expect an introduction. Have some respect for the dying, will you?

We go back to more important matters and you just go back to dying. Believe me, we won’t interrupt you again.

Realization - well, that was quick - hit Maui like a splash of icy water, and for a few moments he could just be still and stare as Tamatoa reached to knock on the shell of the closest one - Ngaio? - before suddenly taking a step back. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to: realization was plain in his widened eyes, in the pincer frozen in mid-air, in the way his antennae went limp as he took another step back.

“Maui…?” Moana whispered, a hand on her mouth. On his left, Pilifeai frowned in confusion and glanced down at them.

“Wait, I’m lost,” he said. “More giant crabs? Wasn’t he the last one left?”

Maui didn’t reply right away: he just stared at the scene for a few more moments before he turned away, a grim expression on his face. “Well,” he said quietly, “he is now.”

***

[Back to Chapter 10]

[On to Chapter 12]

#moana waialiki #maui #tamatoa #moana #oceania

20 notes · View notes

afropendragon · 6 years ago

Text

Chapter 2: An Ember to Call My Own

As you take your first step, a faint glint catches the corner of your eye. You turn back to your grave. Just above the nameless tombstone, you dig and find something. It;s a glossy green flask, with a bright and gold liquid inside. There’s also a small silver ring with a red half sphere jewel. Upon your (D/h) ring finger you place this bauble, it couldn’t fit your hand better. Many feelings are spurred by this ring, but one is truly concrete: your body’s vigor seems to stimulate. It’s not by much, but you are more stout and durable than before.

You ponder the effects only a moment, as you are interrupted by a groaning noise. You turn your head swiftly, your armor rattles with your tensing muscles. Dragging itself to you is no more than a long cloak and a pale husk. However, the husk is humanoid, and it carries a curved knife. And now, its empty eyes were upon you. Within its range, you are charged by the ferocity of hungry animal. A fast vertical slash from its blade falls on you. Caught flat-footed, you side step clumsily and avoid a fatal strike to the head, but your worn left shoulder plate is pierced, and your shoulder gashed through. The pain causes you to grit and hold your shoulder’s wounds with the opposite hand. You take a scan of your surroundings to find a way out of your situation, but more problems arise as more of the husk creatures appear. You look down, and just now realizing upon your (Opposite your D/h) hip is a broadsword in its sheathe. You take your arm off your wounds, and quickly draw the blade with you (D/h) hand. The blade, while not rusted, is also worn but its presence is enough for your desperate mind to feel at ease. As the Husk continues its attack, you plunge your blade into its chest using the creatures own momentum to impale it. The husk groans its last as it slides off your blade onto the floor. With no time to waste, you turn toward the other husks. The closest raises its knife, but you took the initiative and rushed it with a double handed slash from top to bottom. Without a hitch, you pivot and spin your blade into the next creature. The force cut it in half as you followed through hitting the ground.

No more enemies left, the adrenaline wears off, and your breaths turn heavy. The pain from your shoulder returns, you grip it tightly but blood continues down. Your already dry mouth felt crackly and wheezy. Without even thinking you took the flask you carried and gave it a gulp. You thought perhaps it was a mistake, but almost immediately your throat and thirst was refreshed and your wounds stitched by a faint golden ether surrounding you. As the light faded, you stood back up feeling truly like you were renewed once more. All that was left was the pain of living that all must suffer. But even in this desolate land, you were at least still standing. Now you had no reason to not continue on. With this realization, you took the first steps into the gray land.

Only a few yards from your grave was a dry archaic basin, but something glowed within. You bent down and shifted through the dirt to find a flask similar to the one you already carried. This particular one however was covered in flakes of gray and filled with a glimmering blue liquid. With each new discovery were answers blackened by the flames of time, but a phantom sting of familiarity pricks at your mind. And yet you don’t even know the questions to ask, let alone the answers to them. You only hope that what lies ahead, will have what you seek.

Over a mound next to a canyon’s edge you reach. The ascent has led you to a peculiarity: An amalgam of an iron fire poker and a sword. It sticks in the ground, a dim orange light lights within an ash mound, it was some strange bonfire. Something draws you to it, your hand slowly hovers upon the hilt. Before fully reaching, the bonfire burst into life. The flames engulfed you, it wasn’t hot, simply warm and soothing. Its flame danced across every sinew in your body, a spring of warm liquid fire bathes you in its serenity. Before you know it, you are sitting next to it and the cold biter world fades away in the sanctuary of the fire. You remember this sensation. It was like being wrapped in sheets of a bed, lying in soft bliss. This was “Rest.” You stretch your arms, roll your shoulders backwards then forwards. You take to your feet and leave the fire’s kiss. The weight of the world leans upon you once more, but your will to carry on drags your feet further.

You pull your sword from the remains of a husk with a crossbow. Your injuries are not burdening but you decide you need a sip of the orange flask. Thankfully the bonfire refiled it. Now you need to enter through the large archway, and towards an ominous sight. It was a large open ground. One side of the area was walled off by stone and large stone coffins. The other side was a fall into the gray open canyon. The other side was a large stone wall with a large wooden door to match its size. In the very center of this area appeared to be a large statue of a man kneeling down with a glaive to fit its size. Approaching, you notice something plunged into the stone Monument’s stone chest. Surprised, it was the same kind of blade of the bonfire you had just rested at not but five minutes ago. From this ‘wound’ there was also a shadowy mucus stemming off its back, an unnatural infection without reason you could comprehend. Although against your common sense and an immense feeling of trepidation, you feel a stronger urge to pull the blade out. Planting your foot up on the stone chest for leverage, you grip the hilt of the strange sword with both hands and pull. At first it barely budged, but soon it seemed to slip out of the statue as if through oil. The sudden shift in ease made you stumble back when the blade was released. You caught yourself and maintained footing, you felt a strange satisfaction of the act. A small smile across your face as you gazed at the sword, was instantly wiped away as you heard stone moving. You slowly move your head to face the frightening truth of the noise, and regret followed behind. The statue that knelt down you had just taken the blade from, was lifting itself off its kneeling pose. Towering above you, the statue’s gaze was now locked upon you. Your legs may have well been stone too, because they froze against your desire to escape. But it didn’t hulk toward you. With speed seemingly impossible for its mass, the statue pulled its massive glaive back and thrust it toward you. The sudden movement left you no time to react. Only the words you were starting to say as you realized your mistake were allowed. The very first words you spoke said since waking, and your last:

“Oh shit.”

A gasp in the darkness escaped you, then followed by your wide eyes opening. You look around, you are sitting down once more at the bonfire upon the small mound near your waking place. Which was odd, because you could’ve sworn you felt a great stone blade being plunged into your body. The pain from before seemed to attest it happened. Not only that, you felt something missing. As if an imaginary pouch in your belongings was plundered. Despite that strange feeling, something new was present with you. In your hand was indeed the blade that was plunged into the giant. If it was a dream, it was as real as ground you lay upon. You took to your feet, and looked toward the distant area you swear you had died. You had tired reach a conclusion to what was going, but no luxury of time was given to you. A groaning noise from behind you and in your path could be heard. You look behind and onward, the husks you had killed were ‘alive’ once more.

“Dammit!”

To your relief, your journey back proved more fruitful. You had picked up small round pellets, it wasn’t until you dropped one on accident that you realized they were firebombs. It was also lucky that you dropped it on the foot of one of the husks. Its screams of burning pain were cathartic to say the least. Along the way you had identified the empty feeling you had upon reawakening, whenever you slew one of the husks, a small near invisible wisp left them and seemingly went into you and it filled you with something. It didn’t have physical weight or baggage upon your mind, but you could sense how much you gathered instinctively.

When you slayed the final crossbow wielding husk, you stood back to the arch leading to the statue. This time however, the archway was blanketed in a grey, thick, obscuring mist. You reach your hand and then pull it back. Reaffirming your need to push forward, you reach out again and enter the mist. The other side was much the same as before. But to your despair, the statue was alive and moving. While your nerves were still at their limit, you were much more prepared then last time. You still had some distance between the statue, so you waited for an opening until you close the gap. Or at least that’s what you would’ve done, if the statue didn’t do the last thing you expected. It jumped high into the air, aiming to bring its glaive down on you when it landed. Despite your utter surprise, your legs were swifter to aid this time. You tumbled forward and to the side, barely avoiding the overwhelming strike.

Having felt battle more and more, the instincts of a warrior seem to return to your muscles memory. And so you didn’t miss the opening after the statue’s attack. You spun around, using the momentum to get to your feet, with a quick step forward, you brought your sword down onto its leg. Drawing first blood, you kept the attack going as you jumped to its shoulder plunging your sword into it. The statue slightly slumped, it was a substantial start. Your overconfidence though hadn’t prepared you for a quick retaliation, the statue backhanded you across the arena. You could feel your ribs poking into your lung. You struggle to move your hand to your small pouch, taking the flask of yellow liquid to sip. Relief rushed over you, and your body had stitched itself together within an orange glow. 4

The Statue was already rushing towards you. Pushing yourself up, your second wind was bitter but strong. You ran to meet the enemy, you rolled past its next swipe and managed to hit its groin. The enemy turned to stomp on you. You jump back to avoid it, then step up the enemy’s leg. Jumping of its shin, you land a thrust in the same area the other blade had once been. The strike was true, the creature fell to its knees. Positioned below, you swung your sword upward to its throat. Your victory seemed assured. But to your horror, nothing was as it seemed. While you were cutting its throat, the dark shadowy mucus from its back was growing. The matter now smothered the statue, choking the space and growing into a large blob with a serpent head. You had no words to justify the feelings, but you tried.

“What godless thing is this!?” You quickly stepped back, just barely dodging the statue’s arm, and the mucus serpent’s bite. You took a moment to look for openings, but now they seemed unsure. The statue alone had large openings in attacks, but now the nature of the filthy blob around it made it impossible to discern. The angles the serpent could attack from seemed too flexible, and with no blind spots. However, it was held at bay up until now. You looked to your side where the strange bonfire blade sat, and you decided to go on a guess. You took a deep breath in, and then charged the enemy. But when the enemy seemed to attack as you approached its range, you pulled out your firebombs and threw it right at the serpent. The entirety of its body was engulfed in flames, shrieking in pain.

You throw another bomb, the black oozing serpent shrieks again. The creature and statue are forced backward. This is your chance. You charge towards the enemy. In response to your advance, the serpent lashes out to bite you with its giant maw. However, you throw your last bomb in its face. As the serpent shrieks once more, you jump forward with sword in hand. With a shout, you bring the blade down upon black serpent’s head. In one last groan of pain, it raises it’s head and limps backward. Following the black parasite on it, the statue falls backward as well. As it hits the ground, the enemy fades into a gray shimmering light. A glimmer of satisfaction trickles through your body. For as you stood tall with shoulders broad and chest out, a foreign welcoming thought passes your mind: “Victory Achieved.”

Your moment of pride is interrupted by a swirl of ethereal wisps fills your body. The feeling from before but vastly intensified. Not only that, but an even more odd sensation envelopes you; a warm vigor. It was similar to being at the bonfire, but it blazed gently within you. Strangely, you felt as if something precious had returned, like something or someone dear lost and now found. Even in exterior, small cinders crept along your attire. You touched your clothes, but there was no burn or heat. There was no explanation you could even fathom, but you had to carry on without one.

To add to the peculiarity, another unlit bonfire exactly like the other had appeared when the giant once kneeled. You reach out your hand, and like before, it ignites the flame. You feel the comfort of the fire envelope you, and your flask fills with the warm light of the golden liquid. All that was left to do was open the large wooden doors in your path. You reach out both hand on the two sides, and push your shoulders forward, slowly moving the doors.

Beyond the doorway, upon a hill with cracked stone stairs, was a construction of some kind. As you approached, it seemed to be a shrine made of stone and covered in moss. Going down the stairs leading into the shrine, you feel more and more comforting as you enter Standing on a surface leading down from two sets of stairs, you see a large circular room. The center was covered in ash, especially in a small indent with a mound of ash similar to the other bonfires. Looking around, you see that the shrine has another floor above, and reaching up to it in the circular room was a strange display of altars. The altars stood on large square pedestals, each one its own and going upward to one center and top altar. Now that you see carefully, they weren’t altars but seats, more like stone thrones. Only one throne to your left was being occupied by a small man. To the right, a man was sitting and hanging his head on another set of stairs leading upward to the second floor.

You look back down the center room floor, there was now someone looking at you. Although this was figurative, as the person was a woman with eyes covered by a silver tiara like accessory. She wore a black dress, a dark thin girdle separating the flowy loose skirt and the torso that hugged her lovely figure. The dress torso was covered by a hooded long black shawl, both of them embroidered with gold laced trimmings. Her arms were covered by a black tight wrapping up to the middle of her hands. Her long hair was beautiful platinum blonde, braided down. Her skin was pale, but the smile of her pink full lips was as warm as the bonfire. She was truly captivating to the eye, especially yours. Upon eye contact (so to speak) she gracefully bows her head to you.

“Greetings, Ashen One.” The woman said to you. You were lost for words for a moment, both because you didn’t understand the name “Ashen One” and you didn’t know how to greet her.

“Y-you speak of me?” you ask nervously. She nods her head.

“Yes, you are the Unkindled awoken to come to this place. I am a Fire Keeper, Ashen One. I tend to the flame, and I tend to thee.” For her to say she attends only made you stutter more. You couldn’t speak.

“Ashen One? Are you unwell?” You shake your head, but realize that’s the wrong way and quickly nod thrice.

“Yes, yes! I am just addled from all of this, M’lady. I confess, I know very little about the nature of my waking”

“I understand. I can explain whatever you need, Ashen One.”

“If you could aid me, would you call me by my name instead?” As you said this, the realization hit you, the most obvious thing you forgot but didn’t figure out until now: You don’t remember your name.

“My apologies, I couldn’t bring myself to be so informal. Being an Ashen One is a great honor, I would not deny you be called by it. I am sorry. However, it would be rude of me not to know the name of you Unkindled. May I know of it, my lord?” While she spoke to you. Something suddenly stirred in your chest. A feeling from the dark but born of the flame. You heard something, but you didn’t understand it. You kept listening, Moments passed in the dark, and you began to mouth the words without even knowing.

“I’m…(F/N). My name is (F/N.)

“Very well , Lord (F/N). If you truly wish I will call you that.”

With the flame in your bosom and a name in your heart, an identity of the body and mind started to fill the emptiness of your waking. It was a start.

“Yes. Please call me (F/N)

0 notes