#Eastern Beaches Painting

[maiseve457]

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[gemmabussell85]

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[draconic-desire]

A Dance With the Dragon I — The Tides Beckon

Yandere Neuvillette x Reader

[Part I — You are here] [Part II] [Part III] [Part IV]

The last thing you expected was to have caught the eye of Fontaine’s Chief Justice. You have no choice but to be swept into the dragon’s dance.

Warnings: Yandere tendencies, possessive behavior, forced imprisonment, unrequited relationship

It all started with your realization that Fontaine has some rather intriguing laws.

For as long as you could recall, you had aspired to become a marine biologist. Though you hailed from Mondstadt, you forged your curiosity in the tide pools and lakes around the edges of the region. You scoured over any novel you could find on marine ecology and animal behavior, spending endless hours lost in the Knights of Favonius library. On your thirteenth birthday, your parents bought you a Kamera, which launched your career in wildlife photography and research. You even went on to publish a book cataloguing pictures of your nation’s aquatic life. It came to no one’s surprise, then, when you were gifted with a hydro vision.

Although you loved your life in Mondstadt, the vast waters that surrounded the Land of Hydro beckoned you like the pull of a tide. So, on your twenty-fifth birthday, you parted with your family and homeland, traversing across Teyvat and experiencing its many wonders. You relished in the culture and cuisine in Liyue and marveled at the natural architecture of Sumeru’s forests. Yet nothing would ever be as breathtaking as your first glimpse at Fontaine, at the granite peaks rising above the crystalline waters teeming with life of all forms.

You had secured employment with a group researching the sudden uptick in seal strandings across the nation, taking you across Fontaine’s many beaches. Your main base was located near Romaritime Harbor, which prompted you to spend your lunch breaks exploring the Court of Fontaine.

You made quick friends with the Melusines, some of whom were still a bit nervous being around humans; however, you found their stories of the ocean fascinating and often invited them to join you for lunches or strolls through the city.

One in particular, Carole, had become your close friend after you encountered her being pelted with rocks by a mob of Fontainians. You didn’t hesitate to use your vision to immobilize the rocks and create a barrier around Carole, quickly ushering her to safety. You couldn’t comprehend the prejudices directed towards her and the other Melusines, but after that incident, you made sure to keep an eye out for all of your little friends.

One day, on one of your walks, you ran into said Melusine. She seemed despondent that only a handful of citizens were interested in her hand painted posters, so you decided to treat her to lunch and pastries to cheer her up. That’s when you first caught wind of the Hydro Dragon.

“Well, if you’re worried about the seals, you might call upon the Hydro Sovereign himself!” Carole chirped.

You tipped your head curiously, lowering the cup in your hands onto the cafe table. “Don’t you mean herself? Although I’ve never met the Hydro Archon, I’ve heard others refer to her as ‘Lady’ Furina.”

Carole shook her hands back and forth in front of her. “Oh, no, I mean the Hydro Dragon! He is responsible for keeping watch over Fontaine, which includes all of its resources and residents. I’ve heard that with every sea creature that passes, the heavens open and the dragon sheds his tears in mourning.” She took a bite of her croissant. “I have a feeling he’d be willing to help.”

You tapped your chin in thought. “You don’t say. Well, we are in a bit of a drought, which could be contributing to the beachings… Perhaps I’ll ask this Hydro Sovereign for his favor.”

On the days you were dispatched to Fontaine’s eastern beaches, you opted to sit by the Fountain of Lucine to wish for the Hydro Dragon’s help. It had become a tradition for you to do so ever since your conversation with Carole, for you swore that every time you prayed to his name, rain would grace the shores the next day.

During those research trips, your coworkers would invite you to attend trials at the Opera Epiclese, though you politely declined each time. You had no particular interest in the Opera and were much more inclined to spending your time outside and uninvolved with the court’s theatrics. Besides, you considered yourself to be a model citizen, so the proceedings of the court were beyond your worries.

Or so you thought.

~*~

The incident that led to your arrest was the violation of the order “no domestic pets shall be named after Furina”. Apparently the otter that paddled around the Harbor each morning was undignified of the title of “Focalotter”. You had thought the name quite clever and humorous—that is, until a horde of Gardes surrounded you during your shift one afternoon.

You were detained and led into the Opera immediately, which was where you currently found yourself. You frowned at the relatively large crowd—which, much to your dismay, included most of your coworkers—dispersed throughout the hall. Had they all come just to spectate your trial? Standing alone on the isolated balcony, you felt like an insect under a magnifying glass, an insignificant pest to be probed at for entertainment.

“And how do you plead?”

The deep, commanding voice above you wrenched you from your thoughts. Turning your eyes up, your (e/c) orbs were met with a penetrating gaze.

Pinning you with his lavender and silver eyes from atop his chair at the center of the court was none other than the Chief Justice of Fontaine, the Iudex himself, the face of the law in the Court. Monsieur Neuvillette.

This wasn’t your first interaction with the man.

Shortly your move to Fontaine, you had stumbled across his path. At first, it was just sightings from afar; he would be leaving the Opera, or purchasing a drink (Wait, is he paying for water?) from your favorite cafe. Your favorite flowers also began to appear at your doorstep, each time with a brief, cryptic note, usually something along the lines of To my little pearl —Sincerely, your guardian dragon. You didn’t think anything of it; if anything, it confirmed that your prayers to the Hydro Sovereign had been heard.

Then, however, Neuvillette began to periodically show up around your research stations, claiming to be investigating a court case. Even though the Iudex’s public appearances were supposedly rare, none of your coworkers, yourself included, thought to question his authority, answering his inquiries regarding the base’s activities to the best of your abilities.

You noticed that he tended to speak to you the most, even asking personal inquiries like your favorite drinks, foods, books, and hobbies, and about your marine photography especially. It must be part of the investigation, you rationalized. He was nothing but gentlemanly and always kept conversations curt and to the point, offering you a gentle smile as he departed.

If only you knew the true extent of his desires.

~*~

Naturally, he first caught wind of you from the Melusines. As his closest advisor, Carole regularly joined him for afternoon tea, and though he was not one for idle talk, the manner in which his friend spoke of you sparked his intrigue.

“And when those meanies were throwing rocks at me, (Y/n) was the only one who intervened! If it weren’t for her, I don’t know what would have happened…” Carole rubbed her head, as if remembering the sharp pain.

Neuvillette placed a hand over his heart. “I am eternally grateful for her presence. I cannot stand the thought of any harm befalling you.” The hydro dragon looked out the window of his study to the ocean, deep in thought. “Perhaps you could introduce me. It appears I have much to thank her for.”

“Oh, that’s right!” Carole raised a finger. “She mentioned lots of seal beachings recently, so I suggested that requesting rain from a certain dragon could assist her work!”

Neuvillette nodded, a slight smile pulling at his lips. “Ah, so that is why I’ve been hearing Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon echoing throughout my mind the past few weeks. You have quite the imagination, my friend.”

Carole shrugged playfully. “Hasn’t it been raining more often lately? Seems like her prayers worked!”

That they had, as Neuvillette could attest to.

The first time he heard your soft voice calling to him, he had sent rain the following morning—not for you, but for the seals. His position barred him from forming close relationships with humans, so the notion of attending to your inquiry face-to-face was eliminated immediately.

But when you returned again and again to implore for rain, he couldn’t deny his interest. The day after Carole informed him that his little supplicant and Carole’s hero were one in the same, he knew he had to meet you. He had actually left the Opera to see you for himself; whether he would actually converse with you was still uncertain, but your voice tickled an itch that he needed to scratched.

Neuvillette was an experienced and composed man, but setting his sights on you for the first time stole his breath. This, he thought, must be what it feels like to drown.

Your smile shone brighter than a Beryl conch, and your scent floated around him, sweeter than any marcotte. The light shimmering from the hydro vision on your hip reflected back in your eyes, giving them the appearance of twin pools of blue. You were sitting on a bench by the Fountain, a Kamera in hand as you gestured excitedly towards the screen. To your right was a Melusine he knew well, Kiara, who was clearly enraptured with the technology.

Though he knew of your kindness towards the Melusines—jumping in to save Carole alone was grounds for a medal of peace—seeing it before him sent the waters around his heart roiling. The Iudex was moved by the fact that, despite being a foreigner to Fontaine’s customs, you treated them with the utmost respect, going out of your way to befriend and include them in your daily life. Many citizens of Fontaine still harbored prejudice against the Melusines, but you… You even used she/her pronouns when referring to them, implementing the very law that he set forth.

“I use this for my research on seal behavior and conservation,” you explained to Kiara. “Having pictures of each individual helps us identify them in the future. We even give them silly names sometimes. See this one here? We call him Mr. Sealie, and this otter I like to call…”

When the pink Melusine started giggling over the nickname of your otter, a plan formed in his mind.

Whether attributable to his sense of justice or his draconic instincts, he knew one thing for certain. Like a shining pearl, you must be cherished and protected—and who better to serve than the Hydro Sovereign?

~*~

Those eyes will be my downfall.

Purple and silver locked with (e/c). Despite being newly appointed to the court, Neuvillette was the embodiment of both poise and intimidation. The very air around him seemed to shimmer with power and unyielding authority. His breathtaking eyes swirled with emotions—was that desire or disinterest?—you could not even begin to decipher in your current position.

Archons, help me.

You cleared your throat, hoping you didn’t appear too nervous in front of the judge. “Although I admit to using a version of the Hydro Archon’s name when referring to that otter, I was unaware of such a law against doing so. I’m not originally from Fontaine, so some of its, uh…lesser discussed laws are new to me.”

Neuvillette gazed around the courtroom as the crowd devoured the trial before them. It was baffling how naive humans could be sometimes; of course there was no rule against applying a silly nickname to a pet.

That is, until this morning when he had signed it into law.

Seeing you frightened and alone in the defendant’s box, however, was torture. It took all of his willpower to not to engulf you in his strong arms like waves around sand. But he had to maintain the facade of immovable judicator for a bit longer in order to mold you to his tide. Retaining his mask of composure, Neuvillette continued, “You do realize that previous defendants have been jailed for far less, correct?”

Frustration and fear flared within you. “But I—”

“Desecration of Lady Furina’s name is of the highest offense. Your behavior will not be excused, neither by myself nor the Oratrice.” Neuvillette raised the paper with your verdict, barely glancing over the words before he spoke. “The verdict stands: you, (Y/n) (L/n), are guilty.”

You clenched your fists heatedly. There was no arguing with the Iudex. Clearly, the polite and considerate version of Neuvillette that you had encountered earlier was an anomaly, for the figure looming above you was the complete opposite. Cold, calculating. Distant. A whirlpool cresting a bottomless sea.

Had this been his plan all along? Had you been the subject of his investigation? But why?

“However, because you are not from Fontaine, I will offer you a choice.”

You blinked up at the Justice, a knot of unease forming in your stomach. A choice? What choice did you truly have here? You pursed your lips warily but nodded for him to continue.

Neuvillete raised a gloved finger. “The first: you will serve a life sentence in the Fortress of Meropide.”

A wave of despair seared your insides like a brand. That was your fate? To be trapped beneath the region where you had always longed to live, never to feel the salty wind on your face or hear the calls of seals and gulls again? Surely, the second option was less cruel?

“Or, alternatively: you will dedicate your life to the court. You will abide by its laws without question and with unwavering commitment. You will relinquish your freedom; you will not be permitted to leave Fontaine and will be bound to this place for eternity.”

A choked sob escaped your lips. No matter what you chose, your life’s work and passion would be extinguished. You would be forced to either become an actress in the court’s performance or resign your soul to a watery grave.

Both option chained you to the Region of Hydro forever.

But one option at least granted you a semblance of freedom—a notion that you soon learned was as transitory as a bubble in water.

The crack of a cane against wood resounded through the Opera, quickly silencing the crowd’s mutterings over your sentence. “What is your decision?”

You could have heard a pin drop as the audience waited in rapt anticipation for your answer.

“I…I choose the latter,” you declared, tilting your chin up. You maintained direct eye contact with the Iudex all the while, holding onto your last bit of pride.

You could have sworn you saw Neuvillette release a breath of relief. “Very well. I hereby adjourn the court. Gardes, please escort the defendant to my office for further instruction.”

Two Gardes led you out of the Opera and onto an Aquabus to the city. They informed you that you would now be living in the Palais Mermonia and your duties would begin immediately. When you asked about retrieving your belongings and notifying your family, the Gardes exchanged glances.

“That won’t be necessary,” one said cryptically. “Monsieur Neuvillette will page your relatives and have your possessions seized.”

You frowned, wishing to object, but the Palais doors loomed before you like the entrance to a monster’s lair. You gulped but swallowed your fears, straightening your back pridefully as you were ushered inside and into the Chief Justice’s office. The bolting of the lock from the outside set alarm bells off immediately.

Neuvillette stood from his seat as you walked in. He coughed awkwardly, red dusting across his pale complexion. “Ah, Lady (Y/n). I do apologize for such a fast-paced series of events. You must be exhausted.” He motioned towards the sofa adjacent to his workspace. “Please, sit.”

You blinked at him in surprise. What happened to the unwavering judge from the court? Why was he suddenly treating you kindly? And why in the Archons’ names was he blushing of all things? Unsure how else to react, you obeyed and settled into your seat, with Neuvillette taking his own on the sofa across from you.

Neuvillette poured you a glass of what appeared to be plain water into an exquisitely ornamented cup. You took it wordlessly, noticing his eyes flare with a silver glow when your fingers brushed his own. Gripping his own cup, he raised the chalice towards you. “To a long and dedicated future together.”

You sketched a brow curiously but raised your glass in tandem to…whatever that was supposed to mean. “To not being in prison, I guess.”

“Indeed.” A breathy chuckle followed. “Now, I’m sure you’re wondering as to what this whole business regarding your sentence is.” Neuvillette took a long sip from his chalice. He frowned slightly when you simply placed yours on the coffee table separating the two of you. “Although you may have thought you’d be completing droll office work, your duties will be a tad unorthodox.”

At this, your brows furrowed. Wasn’t that what all those employees you had passed in the Palais foyer had been doing—pushing papers? You had cringed at the dark bags under many of their eyes, at how many were asleep at their desks, imagining how similar you’ll look once your sentence was completed. But based on Neuvillette’s words, it sounded like you would be doing something very different.

Oh, Archons. I’m fucked.

You braced yourself to speak, but Neuvillette beat you to it.

“You are to be my wife.”

You blinked once, twice, waiting for the punchline of the joke.

Neuvillette merely stared at you with his hands folded across his lap, waiting for your response.

After a pregnant pause, you couldn’t help the stunned scoff that escaped your lips. “You can’t be serious.”

“Quite, I’m afraid.”

You shook your head. “With all due respect, Monsieur—”

“Please, call me Neuvillette.”

Ignoring him, you continued, “I did not agree to be your wife.”

The Chief Justice leaned back against the posh blue cushions of the sofa. “Although that may be the case, you are in no position to refuse. In fact, your sentence mandates that you follow my orders.”

You stood abruptly, sending your goblet toppling over and spilling its contents across the table. “Marriage was not a part of that sentence.” Which was ridiculous to begin with, you added to yourself. I mean, a life sentence for a pet name? It’s almost like he wanted me arrested.

Neuvillette sighed and flicked his wrist, causing the chalice to right itself and the water to refill. “Marriage is the highest form of dedication, no? Is that not what you pledged to?”

“I dedicated my life to the court,” you clarified.

“My dear, I am the court.”

You emitted a low hiss, turning to the door. “I’m leaving.”

Before you could take more than a step, Neuvillette moved towards you faster than a crack of lightning across the sea. His large frame straddled yours, pinning you against the sofa. He grabbed your dominant wrist, a foreign bubbling under your skin erecting the hairs on your arms. Your mind reached out for your hydro powers to defend yourself, only to be crushed with the realization that your vision had been confiscated at the court.

Despite your struggles, you could only watch in terror as a glowing silver-blue mark in the shape of a dragon burned across the length of your arm. The leviathan’s scaly body twisted in ringlets up your forearm and bicep, ending in a slender head with twin horns that crested your shoulder.

As soon as Neuvillette loosed his grip, you shoved him away, panting heavily. The mark had already disappeared, but you could still feel the ghost of it under your skin.“What have you done?” you whispered breathlessly.

In total contrast to your own contorted expression, Neuvillette appeared completely calm. He smoothed out his robes and adjusted his jabot. “I have lived for centuries, and I have many centuries more. I’ve merely gifted some of them to you.”

Your body began to shake, from fear, sadness, or rage you did not know. “I don’t want them.”

“You do remember that you promised to serve the court for eternity, don’t you? How do you expect to persist by my side otherwise?”

Eyes locked on the exit, you tried for a different tactic. “Take me to the Fortress of Meropide.”

Neuvillette’s expression darkened, his patience clearly thinning. “I will not.”

Your eyes shifted back to his. Although Neuvillette intimidated you beyond belief, you’d be damned if you didn’t go down without fighting for your life’s hard work. “I want to change my sentence.”

He glanced down at your arm. “It’s a bit too late for that, my dear.” Taking your hand in his, he pulled you to his chest. His form towered over you, capable of resting his chin on the top of your head. “Please, understand. I mean to keep you from harm, even if it means being your jailor.”

“You’re insane,” you hissed, futility attempting to pull away. “Let go of me!”

Neuvillette’s grip was relentless. You stilled when you felt claws ghost up your back in a silent warning. “That is one thing I will never do.”

The fight in you slowly ebbed away—for now. Your resistance was clearly moot, like a gnat trying to down a dragon. You’d have to play the long game to learn how to get under his skin—and how to rid your own of this new mark. “I will find a way out of this,” was all you could promise, refusing to meet his eyes.

A deep sigh sounded above you. Neuvillette took a step back, looking at you with such longing you thought you’d combust on the spot. With one last stroke of your cheek, he strode towards the office’s exit and unlocked the door with a flick of his wrist. Looking over his shoulder, he fixed you with a forlorn gaze. “By the time you realize your place here, there will be nothing for you to escape to. Only I will remain.” He once more turned his back to you and stepped out of the room.

You suddenly paled, realizing the implication of his words. If his declaration was true and you were to live as long as him, then your family, your career, the world as you know it would be completely gone. Your only company, your only solace, the only one who would remember your name, would be him. “Wait, no, you can’t—!”

He closed the doors.

~*~

Neuvillette was many things, but a liar was not one of them.

True to his word, you remained locked almost exclusively in the Palais Mermonia. On the rare occasions he let you outside, the Iudex served as your only company, diligently making sure you were hidden. Your vision was permanently taken, supposedly to prevent danger to yourself. It didn’t go unnoticed when he would wear it on his hip at important or potentially volatile trials. When you finally asked—or growled at him, really—why he kept it on his person, he had merely frowned and replied, “I originally thought the idea of a fake vision preposterous, I admit. I have no need for one. Yet having it feels as if you are constantly by my side.”

The draconic tattoo he had branded onto your arm not only extended your lifespan but also gave you a minuscule drop of his abilities—though only when you were in his presence (and most definitely not against him—you had tried). That allowed the two of you to transport to and breath in the depths of Fontaine whenever you begged to go out. In his mind, it was perfect—not only was the sea his realm, but no one and nothing could touch you. You were his alone to hold, to see, to have.

Those trips were torture for you. Free, but trapped; floating, but tied down to the man who was supposed to be the symbol of justice.

You, on the other hand, had tried a variety of (fruitless) tactics to convince the judge to free you. Any attempt at conversation or advance in his part was met with either vitriol or indifference on your part. You had once tried to charm him into letting his guard down, hoping you could sneak away while he was preoccupied at the court. This plan epically backfired on you when he mistook your subtle touches as permission to devour you with kisses and love bites, covering you in bruises from his sharp teeth for the next week. You wouldn’t so much as let him tap your shoulder for the next month after—the spark of silver in his eyes while he kissed you foretold of a deep, overwhelming desire that far surpassed simple kisses. You feared what might occur if the composed Chief Justice were given the opportunity to release his more primal urges.

And so, each day was passed much in the same:

1) Wake up on the floor or couch of his suite in the Palais—like hell you’d be sharing a bed with him. Oh, how he had tried in the beginning to usher you into bed, into his arms. It was childish, yes, but at least your refusal have you some semblance of autonomy.

2) Ponder on how you would greet Neuvillette that day.

3) Choose between fury or pretending he didn’t exist, typically the latter.

4) Look for a way to escape after he left for the Opera. Fail.

5) Spend most of the day scouring court cases in his office for clues to overturn your cause. Fail again.

6) Look out the window pitifully at the water beyond the Court of Fontaine (were the levels rising?). You often thought of your family back in Mondstadt; what were they told of your imprisonment, if anything? How long had you been stuck with the Chief Justice? The days blurred like ink in water.

7) Immediately exit the office towards his attached suite the moment he returned—any other room was preferable to his suffocating presence.

Today, though, he had chosen to interrupt your musings out the window before you could make your exit.

“You know, I find the beauty of the bright sunlight is best appreciated from the indoors through a window.”

Turning your head from the glass pane, your attention was brought to the figure standing in the doorway. He was wearing nothing but a simple pair of dark blue slacks and a white tunic, his robes hooked over his arm. At the start of your captivity you had mused how strange it was to see him without his normal ornamentation; now his comparatively plain appearance was a daily sight for you.

You crossed your arms and leaned against the window, relishing the heat from the coastal sun against your back. It was nothing like the dark pits he practically dragged you to now that you could breathe underwater. “Personally, I prefer to enjoy it with the company of a cool breeze by the shoreline.”

The Chief Justice loosed a deep sigh as he approached you. He extended his palm, caressing your cheek gently. “If you desire it so, I will rearrange some meetings and escort you—”

Below the waves, where he clung to you like a Lumitoile to a rock? “No need. Present company would ruin the experience. I prefer to be above water.”

Neuvillette had the audacity to wince at your retort. “So you instead choose to wallow in your self-inflicted solitude?”

You wanted to laugh at the hurt edge to his voice. Self-inflicted your ass—every moment of your life now centered on him, depended on his permission. Solitude was a disguise for any reprieve you could get from his constant attempts to court you.

The ironic part was that, if he had approached you normally, you could have seen yourself falling for him. He brought and cooked your favorite foods and beverages, showered you with gifts and books on photography, and tried his utmost to make you comfortable.

But you knew it was as nothing but glitter in a gilded cage. Neuvillette had drowned your whole world. So no, you wouldn’t act like any of this is normal.

Resisting the urge to bite his bare hand, you glared at your captor. “You could simply, oh, I don’t know, let me go.”

Neuvillette’s jaw tightened. His patience might run deeper than the Trench of Elton, but it was not everlasting. “We’ve discussed this.”

At that, you shrugged his hand off. “Can I at least speak with my family? My friends?”

A pained look flickered across Neuvillette’s face. “That isn’t possible.”

Your lip curled in response to his expression. “Don’t act like you actually care.”

Pursing his lips, he settled onto the window seat next to you. Though you were twitching with the urge to escape, he placed a large hand on your thigh, a gentle warning. “(Y/n), there’s something we must discuss.”

You narrowed your eyes, though your heart rate spiked. By now, he recognized your silence as a sign to continue.

“Do you wish to walk around the Court of Fontaine with me?”

Blinking, your throat dried. You swore you heard him wrong. “I’m sorry?”

Neuvillette squeezed your leg in what he thought was a comforting manner. His eyes—fuck, you had to admit they were wickedly beautiful, silver and sharp as a sword—never left your own. “You have been justified in your anger with me. I have restricted you for far too long. I would like to extend an olive branch, if you will—an agreement that we will both retain civility. I will grant you freedoms, but you must adhere to your sentence. Any deviation will not be tolerated.”

Your head was spinning, so you didn’t even consider the implications of his words. He was letting you out. “Can we go now?”

Neuvillette smiled softly. “Of course.” Standing, he offered you a hand. You tentatively took it, more awestruck than anything as he unlocked the doors to the outside. You’d finally get to see your family, your colleagues, the sun—!

Fontaine was unrecognizable.

The last time you seen the square of the Statue of the Seven, the roads were cobblestone. Now, strange machines roamed the paved streets, clearly serving as sentinels. None of the shops or restaurants were familiar—your favorite coffee shop, where you had so many chats with Carole, was now boasting signs for upscale fashion. A Melusine hopped by, wearing a Garde’s uniform, something that you remembered as being rare due to the increased chances of them being targeted. Your heart rate spiked in worry when the Melusine approached a group of children and their parents, only for a stunned expression to hit you when the creature was hugged by a little girl, her parents cooing in delight.

“Where…what?” you stammered. Fontaine had seemingly changed overnight—at least in your experience of time. Dread pooled in your stomach.

You attempted to pull your arm away from him, but his grip on you was steadfast. That same pained look from before marred his handsome features. “I did not lie when I said you have nothing to return to.” The Chief Justice sounded melancholic—he wished it hadn’t come to this, but he had to eliminate any prompts for you to leave.

“No, no.” Your heart dropped. “What… What year is it?”

The silence that followed was all you needed to know.

“How many years has it been, Neuvillette?” you repeated, your voice cracking with a desperate tone.

For once, Neuvillette avoided eye contact with you. He simply gestured towards a bulletin board, where the latest issue of The Steambird (at least one thing was consistent) was posted. You tore it from its pin, choking back a sob as you read the date.

Hands shaking, the issue fell to the ground. It landed in a puddle, its edges slowing soaking and blurring the ink. A steady rain had started to fall, quickly turning into a torrential downpour.

It had been over four hundred years since Neuvillette had taken you.

If it weren’t for Neuvillete’s hand on your hip, you would have crumpled to your knees. “H-how?”

Neuvillete looked to the skies solemnly. “Time passes differently for us long-lived species.” You cringed at his use of us, and how he actually sounded remorseful. “But this is our opportunity for a fresh start.”

Silent tears streamed down your face. For what could you do? Everyone and everything you knew was gone. Lost to the sea of time forever. You had nothing.

He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, placing a delicate kiss on the top of your head. “Cry not, my little pearl. No matter how many centuries pass, you will always have me.”

~*~

Neuvillette was many things.

And now, just as he dreamed since the moment he set his eyes on you, he was your everything.

And yet, you refused to drown.

As the years flowed like water through a stream, you began to learn the beat of Neuvillette’s dance. His emotions, his moods, his thoughts, all reflected themselves within the waltz of his life, and soon maneuvering around the steps became second nature to you. The balance of power laid within the count, and you were determined to be the one leading,

The dragon wanted to dance? So be it.

You’d give him the most challenging dance of his life.

[michibap]

okay guys beach fic w/ ted or lake fic w/ schlatt

pick fast bc we're going NEOW

(u can read both im joking)

Schlatt:

-schlatt is well aware of the fact your family owns a lake house

-he's heard countless childhood stories that were set there

-he's seen hundreds of photos that were taken there

-and at each of your family gatherings that he's attended, your cousins are eagerly asking him when he's finally pulling up

-and now that he finally is?

-he thinks he's gonna vom

-showing face at weddings and barbecues is one thing, but a whole weekend in the same house as literally *all* of your family has him a little queasy

-that, and the fact that he hasn't had service for last forty minutes of the ride

-and he's left with nothing to do but look out the window at the dirt road and the lush north eastern forest

-listening to the old red hot chili peppers cds you put on after both your of your phones lost connection and the radio stopped connecting to any channels

-the man's not even in his own car for fucks sake

-you'd told him that you'd rather take the old beater you refuse to get rid of, not wanting to fuck up whatever expensive vehicle he was driving around back home

-and it seems like you were right to make that decision, it becoming especially clear after you splash through one last muddy puddle before turning onto a barely visible, unpaved road

-"We're here!" you announced excitedly, reaching across the center console to grab his knee and shake it

-he sits up in his seat, looking around

-taking in the hand painted signs that read:

"PRIVATE PROPERTY: DO NOT ENTER"

"NO TRESSPASSING: Violators will be shot, Survivors will be shot again"

-you either don't notice his anxiety, or ignore it

-and drive a bit farther up to a clearing where the house is

-a little old and decrepit, but it has a "well loved" charm to it

-and the thirteen other cars parked outside of it do a pretty good job at quelling his anxieties about being axe murdered in the middle of the woods

-once you pull up close enough to the house, you park the car, and schlatt goes to get out

-but pauses half way out of the car when grin and honk your horn a couple of times, and he gives you a bewildered look

-after a moment of dramatic silence

-he sees at least twenty people

-all of whom look almost eerily like you, but in different fonts

-they pile out of the house and onto the front deck, all looking around and muttering to each other before spotting the two of you, and rushing to your car

-schlatt panics a bit at the sight of all of those people stampeding towards the car, and looks over to you to see what the fuck is going on

-but you're already out of the car, arms held open with a huge smile as your family comes barreling towards you

-your boyfriend watches (almost in horror??) as you're tackled to the ground by three full sized adults, and more continue to gather around the car

-some come tap on the passenger window to greet him, others wave at him through your open door

-and it's madness as you're pulled off of the ground by one of your uncles, along with a flurry of hands reaching out to you to pull you off the ground

-in the midst of all of this, you feel familiar cold, dewey metal pushed into the palm of your hand

-schlatt watches in awe as you shotgun a twea, moments after you stepping out of the car

-your cousins wildly cheering you on

-some of the drink spilling down the sides of your face and down your arm when the can is pulled away from you by one of your cousins, who makes a show of crushing it

-you finally catch a glimpse of your bf getting out of the car in the midst of the madness, and he's already looking at you, laughing and shaking his head

-before a can is shoved into his hand too

-after the initial madness of your arrival, the two of you unpack your bags and he finds out that you're sharing this bedroom with at least four other people,

"It depends on who else decides to show up" your relative explained with a shrug, "It's gonna get real crowded in here real soon, so you two enjoy some alone time while it lasts" she finished, wiggling his eyebrows with a vaguely familiar grin before leaving, slamming the door behind her

-once you're sure the two of you are alone, schlatt flops on the air mattress you two are claiming for the weekend, exhausted from the ride and a little over stimulated

-he feels your weight dip the mattress down next to him, before feeling your hand run up and down his back a few times

-he lets out a content hum at the sensation, deflating a bit at your touch

"You okay?" you ask softly

"hrmf."

-turns to see you looking down at him, genuinely concerned and he rolled over onto his back in a sigh

"'m all good doll, just needed a few", he reassures, reaching out to pet your hair, which you lean into for a moment before plopping down next to him, allowing him to wrap an arm around you to drag you closer

-you quietly laugh as he hides his face in the crook of ur neck, facial hair tickling the skin there that he knows is sensitive, feeling as the tension slowly leaves his body

"Good, because we've got everyone waiting for us outside."

-after a few more minutes, the two of you change into ur swim suits before going to meet the rest of your family

-stepping onto the back porch and being met with the view of the lake, teeming with life as other lake-goers enjoy it, either swimming, kayaking, boating, or anything else of the sort

-and your family is mingling in the back yard, standing in small groups chatting, playing outdoor games, swimming, drinking and grilling

-before the two of you have the chance to discuss the course of action, a small herd of children comes and kidnaps you, dragging you to the lake in a flurry of small hands and high pitched giggles

-you only send him an apologetic look over your shoulder as you allow yourself to be dragged off

-before he gets the chance to follow, your father calls him over to the grill where him and a few other men are standing around, beers in hand

-all of them looking over at him expectantly

-GULP

-luckily he has man-talk down to a science, only having to answer a few questions about work and such before it was acceptable for his input on the conversation to be a correctly timed grunt

-he passes time by watching you down by the water

-you're about shin deep, fighting for your life

-you're holding off one kid who was trying to swing on you with a hand to his forehead, your other hand occupied with another child that you're dangling over the water by his ankle

-two other children have wrapped themselves around each of your legs, keeping you from making it very far out of the water

-you must feel his eyes on you, because somehow when you look up, you almost immediately meet his gaze

-and shove the hitting child's head away just enough to send him tumbling back into the water before using your newly freed hand to wave him over

-schlatt politely excusing himself from the conversation he wasn't really participating in to go to you

-walking diligently enough to not get caught in another conversation on his way

-finally making it down to the shoreline, excited to finally be back by your side

-but completely forgetting about the children you were with, his face dropping as all of the children who were previously pestering you now flood towards him

-there are little hands rubbing over his facial hair like this was some kind of petting zoo, and he's being barraged with questions

"You're her boyfriend?"

"Why?"

"Do you guys kiss?"

"What's a zucchini?"

"Have you ever held hands?

"My mommy asked when you guys are having a baby"

-he yelps when a little hand pulls at his leg hair

"Why are you so hairy?"

-wants to tell them to scram, but they're all objectively adorable children

-each of them looking a little bit like you, whether it be the hair, eyes, nose, or troublesome giggle

-and maybe this is a glimpse into his future, but he can't say no to those little faces

-so he looks to you for help

-you're watching from off to the side, hands resting on your hips and looking very entertained

-before u tell them to scram lol

-the two of you swimming out to the swimming platform/dock your grandfather had built years back

-having to help pull him up onto it because he doesn't understand the Technique

-the two out you laying out there for a while, basking in the sun like turtles on a log

-he wants you to have a tanline in the shape of his hand on your ass SO BAD

-but you're like "stop i'm tanning"

-so ofc he takes it as a challenge

-turns into him just trying to get his hands on you while you try to get away, laughing

-and it's cute, until you end up accidentally rolling off of the platform into the water

-and he's laughing too hard to keep a proper center of gravity as he tries to haul you back onto the dock, and ends up falling right back in beside u

-when he comes back up to the surface, you're still laughing so hard you're struggling to tread water

-so he swims over and allows you to latch onto him, floating as the two of you catch your breath, eventually relaxing into one another as you float in the refreshing (kind of brown) water

-he shifts a little when he feels you pull away

-tries to play off the way his breath hitches when he sees you looking down at him with a fond smile, bringing a hand up to push the hair out of his face

-watching intently as your lips part like you're about to say something

-before the two of you are being called back to the shore for dinner

-his eyes dart from the shore to you, and he watches as your smile shifts from fond to evil

-and the next thing he knows, he's being plunged under water again as you essentially use him to kick off to shore

-you're laughing to yourself as you swim, thinking you've put some good distance between yourself and schlatt

-until you feel a large hand wrap around your ankle, pulling you under

-getting dried off and changing before joining the rest of your family for dinner

-a variety of foods cooked on the grill throughout the day, and schlatt sees a couple of the mayo based salads he's heard you and a few of your cousins complain about, so he steers clear

-having to sit at the kid's table with the rest of your young adult children, along with the actual children

-but all of the older cousins have fun juice in their cups (which they are very careful to keep away from the littles)

-and something about all of you sitting in mini adirondack chairs and the paw patrol table cover is making everything 100x funnier

-Schlatt grinning and laughing and asking questions as your cousins tell him embarrassing stories from when you were younger

-eventually the gathering moves outdoors, the family spreading around, sitting around a fire and making s'mores as they reminisce, telling old family stories and sharing family memories

-and in the middle of your uncle telling the story about how he kicked over a porta-potty with your father still in it, he glances down at you

-safely tucked under his arm, nestled into his side, wearing one of his sweatshirts

-you're sunkissed and tipsy, surrounded by loved ones

-and he decides that he wouldn't decide summers looking like this from now on

Ted:

-literally fuckign NEED him as my coastal bf

-nd he would be so into it too

-i know this man takes a beach day SERIOUS

-packs the tacoma the night before

-so in the morning when he wakes up at the asscrack of dawn he can wake you up with sweet little kisses, dodging your weak attempts to bat him away as you whine about it being early

-he's already fully dressed, hawaiian shirt fully buttoned, sandles buckled, fanny pack ON

-cooing at u all condescending and sweet when you finally get out of bed, your face still all puffy and cute with sleep and he can't help but reach out and pinch one of ur cheeks

-melting a just little when instead of swatting him away with a grumble you just tilt forward and squish your face into his chest with a tired sigh

-he wraps his arms around u with a firm squeeze and presses a few kisses to the crown of your head before gently leading you to the bathroom to continue getting ready,

"I know, baby, we just *have* to beat the beach traffic"

-standing behind you in your small bathroom and running a brush thru your hair for you as you brush your teeth, explaining his well thought out itinerary even though he knows his words are going in one ear and right out the other

-by the the time the two of you finally make it out to the car, the sun is nearly fully risen, shining bright as the last of the colorful sunrise fades away

-you're still a little fuzzy in the passenger seat, donning a swim suit and a cute cover-up

-jumping a little when he finally slams the driver's door shut after climbing into the car with you

-he settles in, checking his mirror, running through the list of all of the things be had packed one last time before looking over at you

-curled up in his passenger seat, blinking slowly up at him with a sleepy lil smile

-he grins and leans in to give u one last smooch b4 you're off

-stopping for coffee and pastries and it literally breathes the life back into you

-perf! bc now that you're fully conscious it's now your job to feed ted bites of whatever ridiculous sweet treat he'd decided to try this morning

-chaos ensues when you hold up his donut for him to bite into and jam spurts out onto you and the windshield, both of you shouting and the truck swerves

-having to pull over to clean up, and while he's wiping the sticky jam off of the windshield he glances over to u as you lick it off of ur fingers

-and he shifts in his seat

-and looks at the clock then back at you

-you raise your brows a bit, pulling your now clean finger out from between ur lips with a pop

-realizes he's staring when your brows pull together a bit, confused

"What?" you laugh

-and he whips his head away, staring off out the window as he grips the steering wheel tight enough his knuckles start to go white

-his jaw ticks when he hears u scoff a little and mumble something about him being a freak

-and the little angel on his shoulder is whispering in his ear about the beach traffic

-reminding him of how he literally timed it perfectly so that you could get to the water without hitting any traffic, and get a good spot before everyone else shows up

-his eyes dart back to you, where you've now turned your entire body in your seat to face him and you've got your head cocked to the side all pretty as you give him an inquisitive look

-his grip on the wheel only goes tighter

-we MUST stay focused brothers

...

-you two are still sitting in traffic an hour later, looking significantly more disheveled than you did leaving the house

-but you're both laughing as you move around in the front seat, trying to capture ted's best angle and dodge him as he tries to take the polaroid out of your hands, scolding you about wasting film

-when you finally make it to the beach, you have to park a good distance away bc you failed to beat the crowd

-and ted is beating himself up bc he had worked so hard on this plan and it was gonna be perfect for you but now you both have to carry all this shit to and from the car and-

-when he finally pulls himself out of the spiral he sees you skipping ahead of him, idly swinging the bag by your side as you admire the vintage ocean cottages and their expensive landscaping

-laughing a little when you chase after a seagull

-you two finally reach the beach and ted has to physically stop you from tearing off your coverup and running to the water, reminding you of sunscreen and the need to set up

-rushing to help him layout your blanket (meeting his eyes and laughing when you both spot what was probably a nut stain), before he gets to setting up the umbrella while you unfold the camping chairs you had brought

-when everything is finally settled, ted sees you sitting on the blanket in your bathing suit, staring at the ocean

-and finally,

-FInalLY

-he asks if u wanna swim

-you don't even stick around long enough to hear the way he laughs when you dart off to the water

-shakes his head before pulling off his shirt and taking off his glasses and runs after you

-him taking significantly less time to acclimate to the cold than you do, accustomed to frigid atlantic temperatures

-so he quickly catches up to where you were wading in

-you yelp when you feel two strong arms wrap around you from behind, panicking for a moment before realizing who it was

-and then panicking again

-Ted laughs when you look up over your shoulder at him and he gets to see how wide your eyes go

"Wait- pleasepleaseplease-" You beg, frantically looking for something to grab onto, but with how tight he's got you wrapped up you can't even turn in his arms and attempt to climb him

-your scream being cut off when he dunks both of you under the water

-you resurface with a gasp, still clinging to ted as he laughs, so you slap his chest and push away from him, grumbling something about being an asshole

-but after no more than about .7 seconds you're swimming back to him and playing in the waves

-him trying to body surf while you dive under

-throwing seaweed at him

-shrieking and trying to climb up to his shoulders when you feel sth touch your foot

-only realizing after about an hour that neither of you ended up putting sunscreen on

-the journey back to the blanket becomes a race, which ted wins

-but only because as you were exiting the water, he body checked u hard enough to send you stumbling into the path of a boogie boarding child

-arguing with you about sunbathing while you wait to dry so u can apply sunscreen

-he tries to drag you into the shade of the umbrella with him, but you put up enough of a fight to risk getting sand all over the blanket, so he lets you win

-makes u spray him down first and help him rub it in

-you better take this shit seriously

-he is white as a ghost and WILL burn

-your turn goes smoothly until its time to rub it in

-and you start obnoxiously moaning while massages the spf into your skin, just to fuck with him

-and he goes BRIGHT red, hissing at u to stop thru gritted teeth

"There are *children* here" he scolded, anxiously looking around and finding nobody paying the two of you any mind

you shrug, turning your head to the side and look up at him from where you're lounging

"And *none* of them are ours" you shoot back, rolling your eyes

-watches u sunbathe from his spot in the shade before he gets bored again, and you guys decide to go tide pooling and take some more pics for the gram

-manages to get a few nice pictures of you posed on the rocks or splashing in the water before you get too distracted

-then most of them morph into you and the little creatures you find

-but ted doesn't mind, because when he's looking back he'll realize the best pic he got from today was of you smiling up at him, eagerly showing off the itty bitty tiny baby crab you have cradled in your hands

-once it starts to cool down a bit, you guys go shopping in the downtown area

-ted buying a few funky trinkets and doodads for the apartment and for friends

-buying you a pretty sundress that you change into before heading back to the beach to pack up and get dinner

-all of the restaurants are either fully booked or stupid expensive, and ted is getting a little frustrated by the time you turn down a third restaurant, refusing to eat $23 chicken tenders

-you end up finding a random burger joint to get takeout from and eat it on the beach, enjoying the sunset together to finish off the day

-and ofc ted gets more pictures, because it would be a crime not to remember you looking like this

-hair soft and curly from the salt water, skin all smooth and glowy after a day in the sun, wearing his sweatshirt over the dress he'd bought you

-and you're laughing with ketchup from his burger smeared on your face, your mission to steal a bite failing

-after you two eat, you settle on the beach for a while longer, with you lounging in ted's lap, almost catlike in the way you settle across his thighs

-he occupies himself with running his fingers through your hair and humming to himself, enjoying the last of the sunset and people-watching

-he can tell by the way your head is nodding that you're falling asleep, and he's about to scoop you up to carry you back to the car before you're both starling at the sound of a loud BOOM

-you shoot up from where you're laying, frantically looking around before flinching when another explosion goes off

-and you both look to the sky with delighted gasps at the sight of brilliant, sparkling color in the sky

-you turn to him with a bright smile,

"You didn't tell me there'd be fireworks!"

-he only shrugs, deciding to be cool and mysterious instead of admitting that he also had no clue this would be happening

-leaning into his side with a content sigh as he wraps an arm around ur shoulder, pulling you into his side to enjoy the rest of the firework show before making ur way back to the car

-ted snaps one last picture of you on the way home, quickly hiding it, knowing you'd hate it

-it's a photo of you conked out in the passenger seat on the ride home, a little drool pooling at the side of your mouth

-and you've never looked more beautiful

(aw)

[connecting-the-stars]

How I had envisioned the last scene of the Bad Batch would have gone:

Going frame by frame- 3rd person- following up this bright tan gravel hill, the different sets of footprints and how boots slowly follow them, when the bright trees disperse we find a blonde facing out past the hill, dunes and valleys stretching ahead with bright water and clear sky’s, she’s wearing light weight armor and a satchel,

A shoulder appears next to her, offers a bright container.

“You’re going to burn. You don’t need to use much.”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind the sun.”

“I won’t feel sorry later when I told you so.’

She shakes her head at Echo’s push for the importance of sunblock, she looks down at something in her cupped hands. Shows Echo’s face with patches of red along his nose and forehead.

when she hears the footsteps behind them she twists her head to the camera and smiles impossibly wide at the person approaching, excited and thrilled but we see the scar besides her temple, her hair braided back, her sharper nose and chin, a skull painted on her shoulder armor,

“look what tech found!”

hunter then steps into frame as she unfolds her hands, tiny geo-salamanders wiggle on her palm, their scales reflecting like glittering crystals in the sun, and she recites what tech explained

“Very shiny. Have you added them to your logs?”

She nods quickly, smiling wide, her eyes crinkling

“About to!”

hunter looks up to see tech crouched next to a nest and scanning with his datapad while wrecker holds a rock back for him, omega yells for their attention and they turn to wave

“about time serge!” Wrecker hollers.

tech adjusts blue modified goggles on his nose. “you could've missed the new record”

“You’ll owe me 15 mentell mix this time and I won't let you forget” wrecker shouts over,

turns their gazes to the hill on their right, highest point where batcher (larger and brighter blue) is resting, she lifts her head at them as crosshair is mediating peacefully not even moving as his rifle sits beside him, hunter puts a hand on her shoulder and they share as smile

“he’s gonna make it to 324 clicks this time”

hunter crosses his arms. “we’ll see about that”

wrecker shouts in the distance as a dust cloud erupts from a overturned boulder, a swarm of much bigger reptiles begin to crawl out and tech says something about how unexpected the amount is and identifies why they are attacking while wrecker throws one past frame, tech turns to run but his cybernetic leg is a bit slower than expected in the gravel thus wrecker hurls tech over his shoulder and makes a run back up the hill, tech brings his blaster up setting it to stun.

A massive salamander lunges for them but it crashes into the gravel with a crackling zap, the shot echoing up the valley to where crosshair has taken on cover fire, Echo doubles back the opposite way, heading to the newly repaired Marauder. Omega unfolds something from her satchel and it hovers beside them to hop up hunter chuckles and omega slaps his arm

“he’ll have better luck next time”

They speed down the hill laughing, they disappear down the hill with the shouting and the growls of monsters but across the fray the voice that stands out the most says

“can we check out the eastern beach next?”

black screen

“of course we can.”

[thornnii]

⎯ ☆ culture shocks

genre: platonic, fluff wordcount: 2.6k pairing: platonic!pogues x gn!reader tags: british!reader, exchange student!reader, reader is staying with the heywards, you/yours pronouns / 2nd person pov, underage drinking & smoking, swearing, does not stick to canon/pre-canon summary: a collection of moments where reader experiences some sort of culture shock while in america notes: it was weirdly harder than I expected it to be to come up with ideas. may end up doing a part two at some point

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being a part of an extra-curricular exchange student program wasn’t something you’d always planned on doing, but with your english language a-level it was too good an opportunity to pass up. the only thing that put a damper on your excitement was the fact that you’d be going alone. it’s not that no one else in your class was taking part in the exchange student program, it was just unfortunate that you were the only one being sent to a small island called kildare on the east coast of the usa; it was quote-unquote “paradise on earth”. you were going to be staying with the heyward family. from what you were able to gather from the internet the outer banks was a string of barrier islands off the coast of north carolina and south-eastern virginia, a popular tourist destination, and seeing the differences in how the locals interacted with each other, along with how they interacted with tourists would be interesting and beneficial to your studies.

you finished packing up your suitcases, sitting on them as you zipped them up to try and squeeze in as much of your belongings as possible for this trip. the school only permitted two large suitcases and a carry-on bag for the trip, so it was vital to you that you packed everything you deemed essential for this trip to america; a brimming pencil case, at least two notebooks, your laptop, tablet, headphones, two different books, your journal, and anything else you could think of to keep you entertained during the 11+ hour fight. everything else that you wanted to take with you, such as half your wardrobe, your skincare and makeup supplies, and a plentiful supply of snacks, was distributed between your two suitcases.

at 8am the next morning, all students from your year were stood out at the front of school, waiting for the coach that would come and take you to the airport for your 10am flight. you hoped that there would be no delays. the coach ride was long and bumpy but being with your friends and classmates made it more bearable. you all went your separate ways at the airport, saying goodbye to each other and your teachers that had chaperoned the ride for the next few months.

your flight landed at 9:27pm at norfolk international airport and you were greeted outside the terminal by pope, who you’d started a penpal correspondship with as a part of the exchange student program, and an older man who you assumed to be his father. pope held up a large cardboard sign with your name painted, somewhat neatly, in bright colours. despite the slight feeling of embarrassment that swept through you, you couldn’t help the smile that appeared on your face. you walked over and greeted the pair, mr heyward offering to help you pick up your suitcases and load them into his truck.

the ferry ride from the mainland to the island didn’t take that long in comparison to your flight, but the jet lag seemed to make time feel as if it were crawling by instead. when you reached the heyward’s house, pope helped you to carry your luggage to the guest room that had been tidied up for your stay. unpacking took the better part of an hour with the occasional need for some rearranging, but finally all your belongings were safely stored.

pope introduced you to his group of friends the next day. there was jj maybank; a loud and boisterous blond, john b routledge; an easygoing brunette, and finally kiara carrera; a strong-minded beach lover even if she was technically from the rich side of the island, ‘figure eight’.

almost as soon as you’d opened your mouth to greet them, they’d begun asking about your accent. you explained about where you were from and therefore your accent which was followed by the dreaded “is that near london?” question, which you answered reluctantly. then jj was asking you about pronunciation, or rather he was asking you to say the ’stereotypically british’ phrases that floated around on the internet, such as ‘it’s tuesday, innit?’ and ‘a bottle of water.’. you had no idea if how you’d answered had been what he’d expected, but he seemed happy enough with your response.

something that seemed to surprise the pogues was the language that you used. obviously, the pogues were no strangers to swearing in conversation, but sometimes they seemed caught off guard by just how much you swore and the explicit words you used. more than once you’d have to explain to them how a lot of british language was based upon sarcasm and insults, even if they were meant in an affectionate or playful way.

such a moment was illustrated when you were on a call with one of your friends from england. it was noon back home so early in the morning in the obx; thankfully it was the weekend so you didn’t have to worry about any school related obligations. your friend was catching you up on events that had transpired since your departure, mainly gossip, and the pogues were curiously watching how you reacted to the news you were receiving. after one bit of slightly incredulous news you couldn’t help the retort of “that fat cunt!” slipping out. they all looked over at you shocked, but you hadn’t even noticed the looks your language had caused.

your call was over shortly after that, both you and your friend having other things that needed your attention. as you hung up the call, you finally noticed the expressions of your state-side friends. 

“what?” you breathed out in a sort of nervous-confusion.

“you just called someone a ‘fat cunt’.” Kiara said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“ah, right. okay.” you realised what she meant. “I didn’t mean that in the way you think. like she is a cunt but she’s not fat. I meant ‘fat’ as in how much of a cunt she is, is fat.” you explained. you had no idea if they understood your explanation but you hoped they did, otherwise you were going to seem like a massive cow.

“gonna be honest, I always thought that calling someone a ‘cunt’ was more of an australian thing.” jj interrupted your thoughts. his words made you shrug, “the british too, i guess. especially if you live up north.”

a week passed. you were beginning to feel settled in at the local high school you went to with Pope, who had introduced you to the rest of his friends. pope had talked about some sort of bonfire party that would be held on the beach. it was gathering that all on the island were welcome to, ‘kooks’, ‘pogues’ and ‘tourons’ alike. picking up the colloquial language and customs were easy with how much the division of the upper and lower class penetrated the island, you already had nearly half a notebook full of annotations about the different language use. this congregation of everyone on the island was an academic opportunity too good to give up. though you’d probably just have to try and recall things from memory, taking a notebook wouldn’t really be fit for a party.

the bonfire was in full swing when you and the others pulled up to the beach in john b’s old vw camper van, lovingly referred to as the ‘twinkie’. there were a few kegs of beer strewn around the beach and a few dozen cigarettes were lighting up the still dark of the night sky like fireflies. music was playing from a pair of large bluetooth speakers, some random, probably pre-made, spotify playlist so loud that the bass pushed the thoughts out of your head. a group of people had created a dance area by the speakers, so close that it was almost impossible to hear the person next to you over the throbbing of the music. many were singing along to the music as they danced.

the dancing didn’t interest you to begin with, opting instead to grab one of the infamous plastic red cups, so often seen in movies, filled with a cheap beer. as you took a sip you felt an arm wrapped around your shoulders. in your peripheral you saw the blond mop of hair that belonged jj, the arm around you holding a burning joint whilst the other held a beer of his own. he noticed the scrunch of your nose as you sipped you drink, pulling the red cup away from your lips as though it had offended you, and laughed at the expression.

“what’s the matter? beer too cheap for you?” he asked.

“nah, it’s not that. beer’s weak is all.” you replied.

“weak?” he pulled back slightly as he asked, looking at you directly.

“yeah. what percentage is it? like a 2%?”

“dunno. probably something like that.”

“drunk stronger.” you shrugged and took another sip.

jj just watched with an impressed smirk. the two of you remained in a comfortable silence for a few minutes longer, sipping your respective beers and sharing the burning weed. you’d seen kie drag pope and john b to the dance area a few songs ago, but were now unable to identify them amongst the ever growing mass of dancers that had concentrated over by the speakers. just then you heard an all too familiar song intro. it had you straightening up, blocking out whatever jj was saying to focus on the song. you were half certain you had misheard, but no, without a doubt, ‘mr brightside’ by the killers was playing.

“holy shit, it’s mr brightside!” you all but squealed.

“mr what? what- where are you going?” jj yelled as you took off across the beach towards the music.

it had caught you completely off guard that mr brightside had started playing, despite the fact that you knew the killers were from la, mr brightside was such a classic british song, you’d hear at the pub, every school disco, year 11 prom, sixth form prom and any other opportunity where music could be played. you were yelling the lyrics from the top of your lungs by the time you’d reached the crowd. since the song wasn’t as popular in america as it was in england part of the crowd had dispersed and it was thanks to this that you were able to locate kiara, pope and john b so quickly. kie began singing and swaying with you to the music, behind her jj was running up and weaving through the remaining throng of people. the pogues smiled at your display of excitement, it showed how comfortable you’d become in the short time you’d been in the states.

you and the rest of the pogues were having dinner over at john b’s house, ‘the chateau’. everyone had agreed to chip in to help in one way or another; pope was providing the food in the first place from his dad’s store, kie was going to bring over her family’s slow cooker for the vegetables, jj was going to barbecue roast the lamb chops, and you were going to cook the potatoes. since it was a sunday and the rest of the ingredients were there, apart from gravy but you refused to go near american gravy, you decided to do roast potatoes. a make-shift sunday roast if you will. kiara didn’t take long with the veg, just under 20 minutes and you were only 5 minutes behind her with the potatoes. you and kie dished up the food you two had respectively prepared just as jj called through that the lamb was done. you and the others took your plates out to him to get dished up, kie taking her own plate as well as jj's.

you’d all decided to eat outside, and all though the others were used to the coastal humidity it still got to you during the evening where there was nothing to do, nothing to keep your mind off the blazing heat. basic conversation was flowing through the group as you ate your food until jj called out to you glanced in jj's direction and saw him practically inhaling his meal.

“christ jj, you don’t need to scoff your food that fast. it ain’t going anywhere.” you commented with a raised brow.

“I’m whatting my food?” jj asked, mouth full.

“first of all, swallow.” you waited until he complied before continuing, “second of all, I said that you were scoffing your food. when someone is trying to inhale their food, like eating without chewing.” you explained before your attention was taken away by something else you hated about the island’s warm climate; the inescapable onslaught of mosquitos.

“fucking midges.” you muttered, squashing the one approaching your food between your hands.

“what’s that?” kiara asked.

“hmm, oh it’s nothing, just complaining to myself about the midges, the mosquitos.” you clarified.

the conversation petered off into small nothings again until everyone was finished. you and pope were taking the plates inside as kiara cleaned up the slow cooker as best she could before having to return home with it. john b and jj followed the three of you in, john b saying to the room at large: “you three did a great job with the food.” jj clapped him on the back while you and kie gave your thanks over your shoulders.

“yeah, although I thought you were gonna do boiled potatoes?” pope asked you.

“was going to, but since it’s a sunday and the rest of the food is pretty much the same, thought I’d do roasties, felt like a taste of home having a sunday roast.” pope nodded, understanding that it was probably a comfort to your homesickness.

something that had caught you off guard the minute you’d arrived in america was the truth of how in movies or tv shows most people left their shoes on inside the house. it was more than likely that if you were to try that at home you’d get skinned alive by your parents.

the first time you’d stumbled upon this fact was when you arrived at the heyward's house on your very first night in outer banks. as soon as you stepped into the house in front of pope, who was helping you to carry in your belongings, you began to take off your shoes. pope noticed what you were doing and laughed under his breath at your actions, “you don’t need to take your shoes off, y’know.” you glanced at him and then down at your shoes, “it's a habit, I guess.” you shrugged.

another time that you were reminded of this difference was when you visited john b’s house for the first time. the floors at the chateau were rough and wooden, meaning that bare feet would be at constant threat of splinters if one was to take their shoes off. you’d gotten used to wearing slippers or just socks around the heyward house since their floors were laminated, but around the chateau it was safest to keep shoes on, no matter how innately wrong it felt.

in a way, not taking shoes off was beginning to grow on you, even if you would rather take that to the grave than admit it out loud. it saved time since the pogues were almost always on the move and staying outside more often than they were indoors. a downside was that it did make your feet feel kinda gross staying in shoes all day without a proper chance at breathing. another con was the production of blisters that appeared on your ankles from the constant wear.

it also meant that you were going through socks like wildfire. at least one pair a day, sometimes more if you went to the beach where clothing easily got soaked. you missed the laminated and carpeted floors of home where socks were only soaked from a downpour of rain.

© thornnii.tumblr.com 2023

[karmaisakhaleesi]

Tsahìk of the Eastern Sea Neteyam Sully x fem!Tayrangi!Na'vi! reader

masterlist~

warnings~ characters aged up to 18-20s, please lmk if i missed any!

wordcount~ 3.5k+

summary~ You are the Tsahìk of the Tayrangi Clan of the Eastern Sea, the younger sister of Ikeyni the Olo'eyktan, and lose your way home, leaving you to stay with the Omatikaya Clan while you recover.

also i haven't seen the movie in a while so my memory is a bit fuzzy when it comes to some certain plot lines, so i'm sorry if they're not 100% accurate! that or i might change up some scenes to fit for this fic.

Tompìva = raindrop = your Ikran's name

te Tsyuäval Ìe'ite = your Na'vi last name

requests are open!

italic dialogue is in na'vi!

sorry i suck at summaries!

You felt the wind whip through your hair as you landed, quickly dismounting your Ikran. Your hair whipped around your face as you greeted your older sister Ikeyni, her face now painted red and white with fresh paint.

"Oel ngati kameie tsmuke," you say as she looks you over for injuries.

You feel her hand on your shoulder as she guides you away from the prying eyes of the others, curious as to what new herbs and other healing items you would bring them.

You flinch as you sit down on your mat, your sister inspecting the deep gash on your forearm. She hisses in annoyance at you, "You were told not to leave. You are the Tsakarem, future Tsahìk of our Clan. What would I do if you had-"

You cut her off as she finished rubbing herbs into your wound, "And I am fine. You don't have to worry about me! I've already had my Iknimaya, I am an adult. I can take care of myself!"

You cross your arms and turn away from her, and you feel her hand land on your shoulder.

"I only worry for you," she says as her hand leaves your shoulder, "Every other day you leave, disregarding your lessons and teachings."

Your lips twist into a frown as you turn to face her, and you open your mouth to speak but she cuts you off, taking a deep breath before she speaks, "I forbid you from leaving. No more trips to the forest, and no flying. You will focus on your lessons and become our Tsahìk."

You gasp as she turns to leave, "You cannot force me to stay here!"

You follow her outside grasping her arm, pleading with her to let you stay.

"All of the herbs and medicines needed for your teachings can be found here. There is no need for you to leave. That is final."

You watch her back as she walks away, her attention now on Nan'ti and Tsentey. You glare at her and storm to the beach, letting the warm waves lap at your feet as you rest your head on your knees.

🌊 🌊 🌊

Your fingers twist the twine of the basket, tying it into a knot, then set it aside. Rubbing your temples, you stand and stretch watching the others dive with their Ikran into the sea.

Hands land on your shoulder and you jump, falling back into the sand.

"Are you okay?" a voice asks, holding out their hand as the laughter continues.

You gratefully accept it and dust off the sand clinging to your skin and clothes, "Thank you Aya."

She gives you a small smile and grabs the now finished basket from the ground, walking to the edge of the trees.

"So... I heard you were grounded from flying, and you can't even step foot into the forest without someone else," Peyzua crosses her arms behind her back as you trail behind them, the sand turning to dirt underneath your feet as you walk.

Grumbling you snatch the basket she's carrying, "It is true. But she doesn't understand!"

Aya unsheathes her knife and cuts off a few strips of bark from a nearby tree, shaking her head, "Ikeyni only worries for you. You are the next Tsahìk. Which means you must focus on your learning, and not fly off into the forest on a whim."

You rip out a few plants from the ground and shove them into your basket, Peyzua turns to you, nodding in agreement with her sister, "Aya is right, and so is Ikeyni. You don't want them to pick another Tsahìk, do you?"

You frown, and shake your head, "Of course not, I just feel so, trapped here! And I'm never gone too long," but you know that's a lie.

You went out so often, it was a wonder that your sister didn't pick a different candidate to become Tsahìk, but when you asked, she reminded you that Eywa had willed it to be so.

Aya places a hand on your shoulder, her eyes full of sympathy, "Just listen to her, and finish your teachings. I'm sure she'll be more lenient when you finish your Tsakarem teachings and become Tsahìk."

Signing you give her a weak smile, "Maybe."

🌊 🌊 🌊

With a quick wave, you give Aya and Peyzua a smile and head off back to your room, the sand now cool beneath your feet. You're almost halfway there when you hear hushed voices coming from your sister's home. Your ears perk up in curiosity when you hear your name, and you tiptoe closer, careful not to make too much sound when you gasp.

Ikeyni stands with her hands on her hips, her red and white paint now fully washed away, revealing her dark blue skin and white freckles. Her tail flits around in annoyance as she turns to Tsentey, and a man whose face you can't quite see.

The man's voice is low as he speaks, "What do you think?"

You frown when you realize you can't recognize the language he's speaking, but continue to listen, "I do not wish for the sky people to encroach any further," she pauses, her face twisted in contemplation.

Clearing her throat, she continues, "I will send five warriors with their Ikran, but that is all."

The man sounds grateful as he responds, "Thank you, again. I'll send word again when we depart."

You feel your heart drop when you feel someone's eyes on you, and spin around spotting a boy around your age leaning against the hut across from Ikeyni's.

"Eavesdropping?" a small smile graces his lips before he takes a step toward you.

Crossing your arms you frown at him, realizing he is speaking the same language the man had been speaking earlier. "What?"

His eyes fill with confusion as he asks again in the same strange language, but you shake your head.

"You don't speak English?"

This time he asks it in Na'vi and you sigh, "No, what-"

The sound of your sister hissing in annoyance cuts you off, and she stands between you, "What are you doing up? Go to bed," she says as steers you to your room.

But the man turns to her and raises a brow, "Who's this?"

She sighs before turning to him, "My sister, our Tsakarem," she points to him, "This is Jake Sully, Toruk Makto, Olo'eyktan of the Omatikaya, sister."

The boy clears his throat, and his eyes meet yours and you can see a blush creeping up his face before Jake speaks, "This is my oldest son, Neteyam."

You give a small nod in greeting and twist a strand of your hair around your fingers.

Ikeyni gently pushes you in the direction of your hut and wishes you a goodnight.

You almost collapse when you reach your bed, your head swimming with thoughts of the conversation and questions you would be bombarding your sister with the coming morning.

But for now, you close your eyes and let the sound of the waves splashing against the sand drift you into a deep slumber.

🌊 🌊 🌊

Neteyam quickly dismounts his Ikran following his father into their hut, where his mother greets them, "What was their reply?"

She puts down the arrow she was holding and gives them both a quick hug, checking for any sign of injuries.

"They'll send five, not a lot, but it'll help," he replies before sitting in front of the fire.

Neteyam takes a seat across from his father and removes his visor, setting it to the side, "Who was that again?"

Jake looks at him in confusion, "Who?"

"The girl with the Olo'eyktan," he pauses trying to remember what was said about you, "the Tsakarem?"

Jake sighs before answering, "- te Tsyuäval Ìe'ite. She's the younger sister of the Olo'eyktan Ikeyni."

Neteyam bites his lip in thought, "Will she be coming too?"

Jake shakes his head, "Of course not."

Neteyam nods and lies down, closing his eyes, his head swimming with questions about you.

The next morning Neteyam wakes earlier than usual, carefully tiptoeing out of the hut to sit down near the lab, waiting for the others to wake up.

It's almost an hour before he sees Spider come out of the lab, and hears Lo'ak and Kiri behind him.

"Why are you up so early?" Kiri asks before he stands.

"I couldn't sleep well," he shrugs his shoulders before crossing his arms.

"Was it because of yesterday?" Spider asks, his voice full of curiosity.

"You went with dad to the Eastern Sea right?" asks Kiri as they walk to the Ikran.

Her tail swings back and forth and her mouth breaks into an excited smile, "What was it like?"

He chuckles when he thinks back to catching you eavesdropping on the conversation, a blush creeping up his neck, "It was nice, there was lots of sand, and the ocean looked like it went on forever."

"Are you blushing?" Lo'ak shouts as Neteyam turns his head away in embarrassment.

"No, now are you coming or not?" he quickly mounts his Ikran and takes off, the others calling for him to wait up.

🌊 🌊 🌊

Your face scrunches up in an attempt to hide the disgust when you look down at the basket before you. Hearing a chuckle you glance up to see Aosìng smiling at you, "I caught too many, so I thought you might want some."

You gently take the basket of fish from him, and give him a tight smile, "Thank you Aosìng, you really shouldn't have," he smiles again, his eyes landing on your lips before you shift your own away.

The wind ruffles your hair before you even feel it, a featherlight kiss, and your face crinkles in displeasure, "Anything for my future mate," he whispers before turning and running back down the beach.

You groan when you feel Peyzua's arms wrap around you and her muffled laughter as she buries her face in your neck.

"Get off, Zua!" you exclaim before pushing her away, rubbing your mouth against the back of your hand in hopes of burning the kiss away.

"So, Aosìng still likes you then? Even after last time?" she teases as she ruffles your hair.

Aya sighs in disappointment before crossing her arms, "Don't listen to her," she rubs your shoulder gently as you fix your hair.

"Another reason I have to leave," you mutter as you follow them past the other huts and grab your baskets.

Peyzua nudges you in the ribs, "Hey! It could be worse," she says as she starts grabbing herbs and loading them into her basket.

"The only reason he "likes" me is because he is Ikeyni's successor. The future Olo'eyktan, as I am the future Tsahìk."

Your knife digs into the tree before you hear someone shouting, and as they come closer you can hear the shouting your name.

"Tsakarem! The Olo'eyktan requests your presence at once."

Your lips twist into a frown and you grumble, shoving your basket at Peyzua, following the man back to the village.

Ikeyni stands at the entrance of her hut, her body now covered in fresh red and white paint as she looks down at you. You greet her and your hands clench nervously.

"You called for me?" you ask, as she gestures for you to come inside.

She takes a deep breath before turning to you, her expression unreadable before she places a hand on your shoulder, "How goes your training?"

You freeze, eyes falling to the floor. You hadn't exactly done much other than gather more herbs and tend to wounds from the fishermen, so next to zero progress had been made.

Gulping nervously you reply, "It is going well, sister," a small smile spreads on her lips as her hand falls to her side.

You shift nervously before your mouth opens and closes, thinking of how to word your question before asking, "Why was the Olo'eyktan of the Omatikaya here yesterday? And with his son too," you trail off.

She takes a deep breath, her eyes closing briefly before opening again, "I will be leaving in three days' time, to help the Omatikaya Olo'eyktan, and people."

You bite back a gasp of shock as she continues, "You will of course stay here," she pauses her eyes falling to the floor, "And I will have Aosìng join me."

You flinch at the sound of his name and cross your arms, "So, when will you return then?"

"It should not take too long, a day or two."

She turns away from you and grabs something off her table. A cool sensation wraps around your neck as she attaches a purple beaded necklace.

Leaning back she smiles, "It suits you. It was Mother's."

Smiling you thank her, "Thank you. Is there anything you need me to prepare for tomorrow?"

"No, but Nan'ti will be watching over you while I am away."

You shiver, remembering the last time she had 'watched' over you, "More like breathing down my neck," you mutter.

"What was that?"

"N-nothing!"

You rub your neck nervously before you remember your questions from last night, "What language were they speaking?"

"Who?" she asks, her voice tense as she grabs her bow and quiver of arrows.

"The Olo'eyktan and his son, what was his name again?"

You bite your lip in thought before she answers, "There are some differences between the Omatikaya's speaking and ours. So that is why you did not understand them."

You nod slowly, that did make some sense. In all your visits to the forest, you had never actually gone far enough to run into any of the Omatikaya people, so that had to be the case.

She puts her hand on your shoulder empathetically, her eyes unreadable before she speaks, "When I return, we will speak about flying and your lessons."

Her hand leaves your shoulder as she joins Tsentey, leaving you alone in the entrance of the hut.

🌊 🌊 🌊

You can already hear the lecture coming from your sister as you soar through the sky on your Ikran. Hopefully, she won't be too upset, you think to yourself as you land and dismount from your Ikran. This was your last chance at visiting the forest, seeing as you would be with left with Nan'ti while your sister helped the Omatikaya people, you wanted to make the best of it. You pat her neck gently before sending her off and continue into the forest.

Although your sister had said you could find all the herbs you needed back home, you disagreed. For example, you found that the bark deeper in the forest would heal certain wounds and injuries faster than the bark used from the trees at home. But of course, that didn't matter to Ikeyni, she still refused to let you leave. You had always wondered why, but the only answer she gave you was how dangerous it could be, because of the sky people. But you had yet to see a single one on your trips out.

"They must not have got this far yet," you whisper to yourself as you hear the sound of a twig snap.

You glanced around but saw nothing, so you continued walking, assuming it was a harmless animal. Sheathing your knife you began to walk faster, hearing strange whispers from the trees, and the snapping of branches growing ever closer.

You had almost made it over a log before you heard a voice behind you. Your ears twitch nervously as you unsheathe your knife again, suddenly wishing you had brought your bow as you take a defensive stance against the trees.

Holding your knife against your chest, you looked around the trees, your breath catching when you notice a pair of eyes behind a leaf. Slowing your breathing and you make a run toward the leaves.

You tackle the person who had been hiding behind the leaves and hold your knife against their throat, your hands shaking. Feeling sweat drip down your face, you try to remember Nan'ti's teachings on hand-to-hand combat. But then you feel something sharp against your neck.

"Let him go," a familiar. voice grits out from right behind your ear. You glare at the person pinned beneath your knife, but reluctantly toss it to the side.

You feel hands on your shoulders pulling you to your feet and the blade leaves your neck.

"Who are you?" a voice asks and you turn to see a boy just around your age standing with his knife held in front of him defensively.

Looking up at him you realize where you know him from, "Toruk Makto's son?" you question before you see recognition in his eyes.

"Tsakarem?" he asks before sheathing his knife.

Nodding you retrieve your knife and sheath it and stumble through an apology, "I am so sorry. I am not used to seeing people around when I come to gather my herbs, I must have come too far in."

Shaking his head you see the hint of a smile on his lips when the other boy interrupts, "Who is she?"

Neteyam sighs before answering, "The Tsakarem of the Tayrangi Clan."

Tilting your head in confusion you mutter, "I didn't know the Omatikaya dialect was so different."

Neteyam returns the look of confusion when he responds, "You mean English?"

Shaking your head you frown, what was English? Another Na'vi language you were unfamiliar with?

"Sorry, I'm afraid I don't know what language that is. I have never interacted with people from another clan before, so," you trail off as the two exchange glances.

"It's okay," says Neteyam quickly.

"Oh, and this is my brother, Lo'ak," he says before gesturing to the boy next to him.

You hear more branches rustle, and whispers before three more people emerge from the trees. Your hand instinctively grabs the end of your knife but you feel a hand on yours, stopping you from unsheathing it.

Looking down you see that it's Neteyam's, "It's okay, those are my sisters," he gestures to the two girls whose stares are full of curiosity, "Kiri and Tuk."

You give them a small smile before your eyes land on the third figure and flinch, taking a step back. You nearly trip over a log, but Neteyam grabs your arm and pulls you to your feet, "A sky person?" you whisper, voice full of fear as you hide behind Neteyam.

Neteyam feels his face heat up as your hands land on his shoulder, using him as a shield against Spider.

Lo'ak laughs when he realizes that you're scared of Spider, "You're scared of him?"

Neteyam smacks him before grabbing your hands and taking them off of his shoulders, "It's okay, it's just Spider. He's a friend," he reassures you before pushing you in front of him.

You feel your anxiety worsen as the older of the two girls approach, "Hi, I'm Kiri," she says as she sits down on the log facing you.

"You're not Omatikaya, are you?" she asks when she notices the confused expression on your face.

You shake your head, "No, I am the Tsakarem of the Tayrangi Clan. I am here to gather herbs," you push your hair away from your face, feeling a blush creeping up your face as she leans in closer.

"Where's that?" a second voice asks.

You look past Kiri to see a girl, who must be Tuk standing next to Neteyam, her eyes full of curiosity as she stares at you.

"It's on the Eastern Sea," you say quietly, eyes glancing up at the sky, which was once a bright blue, but is now a dark grey.

"Really? What's it like?" Kiri asks as you feel a raindrop land on your face.

Instead of answering her question, you decide to call for your Ikran, watching as she soars through the trees and lands in front of you, you coo at her, "Tam tam, Tompìva."

You hear the others look on as you pat her neck, smiling sadly as you turn to Neteyam, "It was nice to see you again, son of Toruk Makto, but I must leave, a storm is coming, and I do not wish to be stuck in it."

Neteyam frowns, he had only just met you but wished you could stay just a bit longer.

"Travel safe," Kiri says before turning to walk back into the trees, Tuk, Spider, and Lo'ak following her.

Feeling the rain pick up you turn to Neteyam and give him a small smile, sad that you were leaving so soon.

He opens his mouth to wish you a safe trip home but pauses, wondering if he'd ever get the chance to see you again he quickly tears off a feather from an arrow in his quiver handing it to you, "In case we meet again."

You smile before tucking it away in your bag, "Thank you Neteyam," you quickly mount your Ikran and take off, leaving Neteyam standing in the rain, heat rising up his face.

🌊 🌊 🌊

Pushing back your visor you dismount your Ikran, when you feel a presence behind you. Turning around you come face to face with your sister, her skin still covered in the red and white paint. Her eyes are full of anger and disappointment as she stares at you.

"You disobeyed my direct orders," her hands are clenched at her sides as she sighs, her eyes falling to the ground.

"I-I'm sorry, I just-"

"Just what?" she exclaims.

Her voice rises and you can see people sticking their heads out of the entrance to their homes, looking on in confusion.

"You have a duty to our people, as our Tsahìk, Eywa has willed it!"

Her face scrunches in anger, and her teeth are bared as she continues to berate you for not fulfilling your duties as Tsakarem. You feel your face heat up in anger and shout out, "I do not care if Eywa has willed it or not," you pause and bite your lip nervously before continuing, "And it is impossible to become Tsahìk if there is no teacher!"

You could hear the gasps coming from the homes surrounding you and took a step back towards your Ikran as Ikeyni's hands clenched into fists, "Eywa is your teacher, let her guide you."

Her voice was soft now, and she approached you as if cornering a wild animal. It was then that you heard another voice.

"Listen to her, ma tìyawn,"  Aosìng says before reaching out to you.

Slapping his hand away you mount your Ikran and take off, hearing your sister's anger filled voice as you fly through the sky.

tam tam [ˈtam ˈtam] intj. calm, be content, there there

tompìva [ˈtom.pɪ.va] n. Raindrop

thank you so much for reading i hope you enjoyed!

please comment below if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

requests are open!

thank you again!

taglist~

💙💙💙

[connan-l]

It kind of. saddens me that Taki is always left out whenever the 4 boys (Natsume/Nishimura/Kitamoto/Tanuma) are hanging out.

Especially in the manga - the anime actually seems to try to include her more, and because in the manga Sasada isn't here it really feels like Taki's the only one excluded because.... idk, she's The One Girl of Natsume's friends lol.

Which is amusing because in the fandom she's pretty regularly included with the boys, even when it follows the manga without Sasada; when in reality in canon she's... never really been shown to be friends with Kitamoto & Nishimura. And it's like, okay on the one hand I sort of get it because I know from experience some teenage groups can sometimes have a clear boys/girls gender divide... but Taki still frequently hang out with Natsume and Tanuma and her being the only girl here doesn't seem to matter, so I don't see why it would be an issue for her to also hang out with Nishimura and Kitamoto?

It'd be fine to me if it were only some chapters/arcs where it's just the 4 boys together, but I can't recall a single one where it's the 4 boys AND Taki. Chapters where Taki are included are always only with Natsume & Taki or Natsume & Taki & Tanuma. That's especially weird given, rereading the culture festival chapter (chapter 27), the ending implies Taki was invited with Natsume and Tanuma to go fishing with Nishimura and Kitamoto. In the eastern forest arc (chapters 34-36), we know she went to the summer festival with them too (even if, again, on the last page there's only the 4 boys and Taki is nowhere to be seen. for some reason.)

So technically she should be at least kind of friends with Nishimura & Kitamoto by now already, but it's never shown on panel...? Again there's a few times where I think it's fine if Taki's not here, like the Tanuma arc where they go to his aunt's inn (chapters 66-67); it was a Tanuma arc and so it had to be focused on him, especially given the arc right before it was a Taki arc where Tanuma doesn't appears (chapters 64-65). (Though arguably she still could have come, given the mirror yokai arc was also a Tanuma arc and she still played a minor role here without overshadowing Tanuma.)

But then, why wasn't she invited during the childhood home arc when the boys went to look for a soda spring in the forest (chapters 44-46)? Or at the special 20 where they go see Natori's movie together? What about chapter 111 which was all about Natsume spending time and chilling with his friends at the beach? How come during the Man Upstairs painting/Tenjou-san arc (chapter 90-91) Taki wasn't the FIRST choice they go to to seek information!! They're investigating a legend about an an old painting - you KNOW that Taki, who lived her whole life in that town and especially who had a grandpa who spent his life collecting legends and is very knowledgeable on the topic, would have been the best person to know the most about it!! She would've had so much fun too!! But apparently that didn't even cross their mind to go ask her? (Though I guess you could argue she would've solved the mystery in 2 minutes then lol, but still. I don't see why she couldn't have investigated with the boys orz) There's not even a mention of "yeah I asked Taki but she said she couldn't" like?

It's just that every time I see the 4 boys together without Taki I feel like shaking Natsume and Tanuma by the shoulders and be like hey!! Taki's your bestie too!!! why are you not inviting her!!!

It just feel really sad to me too given we know Taki literally doesn't have any other friends besides Natsume and Tanuma. Ever since she got cursed she got very isolated from others at school, and it's not until CHAPTER 96 that she starts talking again to her classmates. So like, when she's not with Natsume & Tanuma, she's just... all alone. That's why this exclusion is just weird to me cause it feels like the boys don't notice this or just. always leave her all alone, when they could very easily invite her to join their group. Even if Chapter 96 implies she now has at least 1 friend it's still fairly recent and it's not been developed since then.

This is kind of funny to me sometimes too because Midorikawa always write in her afterwords how much she loves girls and wish she could draw them more but like. She still seems stuck in the All Boys Gang and never let Taki in. Midorikawa I love you but you can't complains about not drawing girls if you always refuses to include your second most important female character lmao (Taki always gets left out of official merch stuff too orz)

At least the anime tries to include her a bit more here and there and to show she has this friendship with Sasada so she seems a bit less isolated and left out; like they actually added her at the end of the Eastern forest arc, of the childhood home arc and even in the school trip episode (she wasn't here in chapter 79). (Though the problem with the anime is that this added inclusion often doesn't feel organic, especially with Sasada.)

Anyway. Can we PLEASE let Taki be friends with Nishimura & Kitamoto and tries to at least have ONE chapter where she hang out with the 4 boys T_T

[arttrampbelle]

Snake man/Naga au shang tsung

Ok ok hear me out

snake man shang tsung. Or naga shang tsung. Whichever one you prefer to use.

Ok listen. This is a fun au idea.

And no this isn't about mk1 2023 shang tsung! Picture any other shang tsung. Plz. Even. Chin hans shang tsung from the mk 2021 movie for all i care. (Tho i pictured tagawa's shang but thats just me)

But anyways.

Snake man shang.

Cw:none really. I guess au shang tsung? Snakes?

🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍

Imagine.

Shang tsung as a snake man

His eyes are of a gold and green. The pupils almost look like they have galaxies in them,secrets of the unknown. Hidden knowledge of the universe and the magics of the veil and void. Flashed gold when angered and threatened. And in darkness.

And scales of viridian dark greens fading into an iridescent metallic lime green. Golden flecks throughout the scales.

Claws are black painted with golden tips.

Hair is a deep black ink. The deepest black and long tresses neatly kempt. Adorned with the finest hair ornaments. Some were "trophies" of the souls he took and the warriors he devoured.

His fangs while intimidating,only produced venom when nessicary. Tounge is long, serpentine,when he speaks his s's hiss and his R's growl. You can feel the primal sounds.

His upper half was of a handsome man. In his mid to late 40s. That of far eastern decent. Nose distinctly hooked and that of serpentine. Smile is soothingly sinister. As if he is knowing before one speaks. A golden tan to his skin reflects that of a man who loves sunning. Sleeping on his island domains beach and shore is his favorite pastime. Nicely muscled and very active.

His voice is of honey. Rich,deep,thick. Sweet words of lulling. Only to extrap you in his coils. And by then...it is all but too late. He has you.

The master of his den,keeps it spotless. Takes very good care of it. Adorns it with only the finest treasures,jewels,silks,and decor. His island home is absolutely beautiful. All are welcome. But few ever want to leave....or....*laugh* could leave. Books upon books scattered about his lair tells of an intellectual man. Various tinkering of devices also states of a man who is engineering. Alchemy and science. Magic and practicality. This is a man of absolute brilliance. Deadly and terrifyingly intelligent.

To look upon this man. Is to look at the devil face to face. How you face said devil. Tells more about you traveler. Than the serpentine you gaze upon.

Some run,some hide,some act in righteous fury,some cry in fear. And some...just some...look upon him.

And feel free. Alive. And even fall into a deep love and compassion.

These are the people you should be wary of.

For they do not fear death nor hell.

And they find comfort,in his deathly coils.

Shang tsung,lord of souls. High mage of magic. Emperor of the grey isle. Master of death itself.

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

Oh boy this was so much fun to write! Lemme know if you guys want more!

💖💖💖

[n0sewise]

I was tagged by @recents on my main blog for WIP Wednesday, so I’m posting here on my side blog since this is where I post writing/fandom stuff. I’m tagging everyone and no one bc I’m too anxious to individually tag people (//∇//)

Anyway, here’s an excerpt from my killugon royalty au. Super rough and it needs way more fleshing out, but I think you can still get the idea from what’s here:

Kurapika wasn’t all that bad. Gon actually quite liked his tutor, and he’d come highly recommended to Aunt Mito as a fine scholar and an even brighter teacher. Even now, his smooth voice carried pleasantly throughout the room as he lectured Gon on something about fish. Fishing, probably. The Eastern Coast was known for its plentiful fish, having the good fortune of being located in the middle of the Gulf of Mobius. Or was it the Western Coast? One of the coasts, anyway. He’d only just gotten back from visiting a neighbouring earl’s daughter in the east, and Gon had quite liked the beaches. There hadn’t been much time to explore; there were dances and feasts, and the earl had wanted him to get to know his—

“Prince Gon?”

“Sorry, what?”

Kurapika’s delicate brows knit together in a pinched crease on his forehead. “I asked if you could tell me why Kujira stations our naval forces on the Eastern Coast only.”

”Oh,” said Gon. He thought for a moment. It would have something to do with fish, wouldn’t it? Kurapika had been talking about fish, and about—

He was saved from answering by a frenzied knock at the heavy, cypress door.

It was Zushi once again, and breathing hard like he’d run the entire way there.

“Your Excellency,” he panted, nodding at Kurapika. “Your Royal Highness, I’m so sorry to interrupt, but the Queen wishes to see the prince.” He straightened up from his deep bow. “She’s in her chambers,” he added. “It’s urgent.”

Gon could hardly fight his grin.

”I really should—“

”Just go,” said Kurapika with a dismissive gesture.

Aunt Mito’s chambers were all the way on the other end of the palace, and nearly the complete and polar opposite of Kurapika’s study. They were bright and airy, with long sheer curtains that fluttered gently in the breeze, and nearly every surface was decorated with a flowering plant or vine of some sort. Gon smiled when he spotted his mother busily tending to one of her plants, imbuing it with her own sparkling energy until its leaves were plump and vibrant with life.

“Aunt Mito? You wanted to see me?”

“Gon!” She turned and met him with a bone crushing hug once he was within reach.

“Is everything okay? Zushi said it was urgent.”

She waved a hand impatiently, her armful of bangles and charms clacking all the while, and laughed him off. “That boy is so serious,” she said. “There’s nothing wrong, but I’ve received another courtship proposal, and—“

Gon couldn’t help it, he wilted on the spot the moment the word courtship left her mouth.

”Aunt Mito, this is the eighth one this year, and it’s only April!”

”It’s only April and you’ve turned down eight perfectly nice options!” she countered. “Come sit,” she said, moving over to settle on her bed. “Sweetheart, I really think you’ll like this one.”

Gon collapsed next to her, falling back onto Aunt Mito’s soft blankets with a grunt.

”You said that last time,” he reminded her. “And it’s okay, I didn’t mind meeting her at all! I thought Noko was a very nice girl!”

”She was,” Aunt Mito agreed, “but I really do think you’ll want to see this next one. He’s a prince just like you,” she added. “So you’ll have that much in common.”

”Sure,” he said, with a brightness he didn’t feel. “I’ll go look. It can’t hurt, right?”

”Wonderful! The Padokean emissaries are already waiting for you to approve.”

Gon blinked. “Sorry, what?”

Aunt Mito could only smile helplessly. “They were insistent that their prince’s portrait be viewed in the best possible light, and I wouldn’t let them have the throne room for it.”

”All that for a painting? I’ll meet him, if that’s what you’re asking, Aunt Mito.” He’d already pushed himself up into a seated position, but even from this angle, she was hard to read, a funny sort of smirk twitching on her lips.

“There’s no need for that, Gon,” she said. “Just go and have a look and you can let me know if you’d like us to make arrangements. The emissaries are in the courtyard.”

Weird, thought Gon as he walked through the palace. All that fuss for a painting seemed excessive, but he’d promised Aunt Mito. Padokea rang a distant bell in the back of his mind, and he remembered that it had been in one of the readings Kurapika had wanted him to finish. Nothing to do about it now, he figured, already smiling as he stepped back out and into the sunshine. He’d reached the courtyard.

The emissaries were indeed waiting for him outside. There were two of them, and they looked woefully out of place under the warm blanket of Kujiran sunlight. Both wore sharply tailored jackets with stiff high collars that covered their necks entirely. They stood among the jacaranda trees, solemnly holding what must have been the painting under a dark veil of fabric.

“Your Royal Highness,” said the one on the right, bowing his head.

“Oh, hi,” said Gon. They still hadn’t lowered the painting, and he wondered if their arms ever got tired. “You know you can put that down, right?”

The second emissary looked at him, and despite maintaining a rather stoic expression, Gon could see her lip curl ever so slightly in what he could only assume was disgust.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to offend you!”

”We have been entrusted with the safe passage of our crown prince’s portrait,” she sniffed. “Its beauty shall never touch the ground beneath our feet.”

”Uhhh,” said Gon. “Okay, well whenever you’re ready, I guess?”

Both of them straightened immediately, standing even more stiffly than before. With a sweeping motion of his arm, the first man began to speak.

“Prince Gon of Kujira, we present to you The Crown Prince of Padokea, First of His Name, Heir to the Throne of Shadows, and Pride of the Zoldyck Family: His Royal Highness Prince Killua Zoldyck.”

And Gon hardly had enough time to reflect on either the lengthy title, or how the emissary managed to say all of that without taking a single breath, because his partner had already pulled the veil from the painting, and there, looking out at him from a gleaming silver frame, was the most beautiful boy he’d ever laid eyes on.

Gon’s breath caught in his throat as he stared. Immediately he understood why the emissaries had insisted on unveiling it among the jacaranda trees. Anything less would’ve been an insult to the boy in the painting. He gazed haughtily out of the frame at Gon, his sharp, elfin features frozen in a bored, half-lidded expression. It was hard to know where to look, Gon realized, his gaze roving every which way. There was the sharp angle of the prince’s jawline, softened only by his full, pouting lips. The prince’s hair too, was striking in its own right. It was entirely white, like the smooth, sun bleached colour of a seashell, framing his face in messy waves. In the end it was his eyes that Gon couldn’t look away from. They were large and blue, and framed by a set of long, silver eyelashes that lent him the appearance of something not quite human staring out from behind his frame.

One of the emissaries cleared their throat.

“Is he to your liking then?”

Gon forced a laugh and rubbed sheepishly at the back of his neck as he grinned.

”Yeah—I mean yes. Yes. He’s…” he trailed off. “Send the letter. Please. I’d very much like to meet him.”

An odd sort of smile twitched at the edge of the shorter emissary’s mouth, and she hid it before he could comment.

“Very well,” she said. “We’ll notify the royal family.”

[yazzberry]

any excuse to make moodboards...

I just thought I'd share with you my personal visions for this story and the characters I'm going to be writing (honestly, I'll take any excuse to make a mood board), including their birthdays, interests, visual muses, aesthetics, etc. 

If you agree with any of my visions, please let me know in the comments. I'd love to hear all your opinions and head-canons!

—୨୧—

Note: I gave all the characters the same last names as their voice actors (except for Alejandro, since they give us his last name in the show haha).

— ❥ —

Name: Courtney Lucille Barlow Birthday: October 17 (16 years old) (Libra) Interests/Hobbies: speech & debate, volleyball, reading, watching Gilmore Girls and The Vampire Diaries (guilty pleasures), student council, singing (but refuses to join the school choir), playing the piano, watching college vlogs and other youtube videos about college (her dream school is Yale) Visual Muse: (Cindy Kimberly)

— ꕥ —

Name: Bridgette Isobel Fairlie Birthday: June 25 (16 years old) (Cancer) Interests/Hobbies: surfing, swimming, marine biology, cooking vegetarian dishes, baking, crocheting (even though she's really bad at it), roller skating, riding on her bike, watching romcoms (she always cries at the happy endings), making candles, leading environmental club Visual Muse: (Sasha Pieterse)

— ❈ —

Name: Gwendolyn (Gwen) Ingrid Fahlenbock Birthday: February 8 (16 years old) (Aquarius) Interests/Hobbies: drawing in her sketchbook, painting, listening to Deftones, making playlists, binging reality TV shows (secretly loves the petty drama), painting her nails twice a week, helps make sets for school plays and stage manages, loves rainy days, smoking weed, messing with her cello, feeding stray cats Visual Muse: (Krysten Ritter)

— ♔ —

Name: Heather Saeko Wilson Birthday: January 11 (16 years old) (Capricorn) Interests/Hobbies: cheerleading, dancing ballet, keeping a following on social media, photography (she'd never admit it but she likes taking more than just selfies), watching sad romance movies and Gossip Girl, shopping, fashion, likes history (it's all just gossip), being around people (doesn't do too well alone, but would never admit it) Visual Muse: (Sandy Diana Bang)

— ✪ —

Name: Duncan Wilder Nelson Birthday: March 30 (16 years old) (Aries) Interests/Hobbies: skating, soccer, tagging graffiti everywhere (especially abandoned buildings), smoking weed, teaching his dog (Petey) tricks, loves late-night drives, listening to grunge rock, watching old movies, playing the drums, secretly likes going to vintage bookstores and record stores, loves a good Oreo McFlurry, secretly really good at math Visual Muse: (Zario Bolanos)

— ༄ —

Name: Geoff Bartol Petronijevic Birthday: December 3 (16 years old) (Sagittarius) Interests/Hobbies: surfing, swimming, wakeboarding, water polo, lacrosse (and is actually really good at it), partying, comedy movies, listening to house music and international music (especially eastern European), cooking for friends, is determined to throw a Project X-level party someday, actually really likes pottery and clay-making Visual Muse: (Brad Pitt)

— ✼ —

Name: Trent Theodore McCord Birthday: April 26 (16 years old) (Taurus) Interests/Hobbies: playing the guitar, listening to all genres of music, watching and reviewing great films (loves Letterbox'd), reading, writing songs and poems, surfing the internet, taking care of his little sisters when his mom isn't home, driving to scenic spots for song inspiration and some peace of mind, working a shift at the local daycare center Visual Muse: (Logan Lerman)

—    ҉    —

Name: Alejandro Matías Burromuerto Birthday: August 13 (16 years old) (Leo) Interests/Hobbies: soccer, beach volleyball, singing, student council, theater and drama, posting on social media, flirting with random girls (but never seeing it through), partying, watching black & white films, always seeks to outshine his brother (often doesn't succeed), tutoring others (is really strong in all subjects) Visual Muse: (Xavier Serrano)

friendly reminder that this is all for my story now posted on wattpad and fanfiction.net, ENDGAME.

[supersonicart]

Louis "Masai" Michel's "The Message."

Opening on Saturday, March 11th, 2023 at Harman Projects in New York City is artist Louis "Masai" Michel's solo exhibition, "The Message."

For the past three years, artist Masai has been living on the south-eastern coastline of Margate, England. His proximity to the coast has informed the environmentally conscious artist's practice, resulting in a new body of work exploring our relationship with plastic items that often end up as trash in the sea.

The exhibition incorporates several distinct series' of artwork including a group of paintings of marine species that have been directly affected by ocean plastics, several text-based artworks bringing attention to specific types of plastics that often make their way into sea, and cyanotype prints of beach-found seaweed that have been hand embellished with paintings of fishing net.

THE SUPERSONIC ART SHOP | FOLLOW ON INSTAGRAM

[pix4japan]

From Sea Stacks to Volcanic Glows: Izu Peninsula's Coastal Beauty

Location: Imaihama Beach, Kawazu, Shizuoka, Japan Timestamp: 06:53 on February 14, 2024

Pentax K-1 II + DFA 28-105mm F3.5-5.6 + CP 28 mm ISO 100 for 1/400 sec. at ƒ/9.0

Visiting Imaihama Beach for the first time, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that a natural formation at the southernmost tip of the beach blocks the view of the large hotel right on the beach to the north. This formation allows for an unobstructed view of the sunrise, painting the sky with warm hues over the gentle waves and scattered sea stacks on the sandy shoreline.

To the left of the sea stack on the distant horizon stands Oshima Island, the largest among the Izu Islands—a cluster of volcanic islands adorning the eastern coastline of the Izu Peninsula.

Oshima has an active volcano, with major eruptions recorded in 1965, 1986, and the most recent event in 1990. My familiarity with Oshima Island dates back to the 1986 eruptions when I found myself atop Shonan-daira where I was marveled at the bright flashes and glow emanating from the volcanic eruptions and lava flow on Oshima Island, a distant spectacle at 65.04 km (40.41 mi) due south of Shonan-daira.

Whether leisurely strolling along the shores of Imaihama Beach or venturing into the coastal treasures scattered across the Izu Peninsula, keep an eye out for many of the geological marvels that collectively form the Izu Peninsula Geopark!

I have included Google Maps links to this location and have links to sites providing additional information about Oshima Island, Shonan-daira, and the Izu Peninsula UNESCO Global Geopark (https://www.pix4japan.com/blog/20240214-sea-stack).

[miss-miaumiau]

"Get to know me" - ask game

RULES: bold or colour the ones that are true & tag 10 people to do it

APPEARANCE

I am white // I am asian // I am middle-eastern // I am native american // I am latino // I am black // I am multiracial // dark(er) skin // light(er) skin // I sunburn easily // I have freckles // redhead // blonde // brunette // black hair // short hair // medium length hair // long hair // straight hair // wavy hair // curly hair // brown eyes // hazel eyes // green eyes // blue eyes // gray eyes // short // average height // tall // I am pleased with how I look // I have or had braces // I have gotten non-surgical cosmetic treatments (like filler, botox, etc.) // I have gotten cosmetic surgery (not ashamed of that at all)

STYLING

Preppy // Sporty // Gangsta // Boho // Vintage // Punk // Goth // other Alt-Fashion style // I have one or more piercings (just my earlobes) // I have at least one tattoo (only my eyebrows, I'm not into tattoos otherwise) // I typically wear makeup (lipstick - yes, mascara - sometimes, eyeliner & eyeshadow - only for events, but foundation - no, I can't stand how it feels on my skin) // I have dyed or highlighted my hair (I used to dye it either black or red with henna in the past, but not rn, though) // I paint my nails // I prefer loose clothing to tight clothing // shirts with geeky prints (yes, please) // I like skirts // I like trousers // I prefer Nike to Adidas // I wear baseball hats backwards // I wear sneakers // I like heels / I own designer clothes (not very much into that, but still, I do own a few pieces - Ralph Lauren Blazer, Prada sunglasses, Balmain watch)

AESTHETICS

I find mystery in the ocean // I enjoy the smell of the beach // I have heard the ocean in a conch shell // I have watched the sun rise // I love stargazing // I have slept under the stars (I'd love to) // I enjoy cloud watching // I enjoy rainy days (sometimes) // I enjoy thunderstorms // the sound of chirping calms me // I know what snow tastes like (didn't every kid try that at some point!?) // I have climbed a tree // I have attended a bonfire // I enjoy hiking on nature paths // I meditate outside // spring is my favorite season // summer is my favorite season // autumn is my favorite season // winter is my favorite season // I have a collection of crystals // I pay close attention to colors // I have a canopy above my bed // I listen to music to fall asleep // I sing in the shower // I enjoy visiting the library // I enjoy going to museums // I enjoy going to theatre // I like modern art & architecture // I like older art & architectural styles

RELATIONSHIPS

my parents are together // my parents are divorced // I am adopted // I am an only child // I have at least one sibling // I have made an online friend (RIP Lunna ... I will always miss you!) / I met up with someone I have met online // I give advice to my friends (and vice versa, of course) // I have a best friend who I’ve known for at least ten years // I have dated my best friend // I am in a relationship // I have been single for over a year // I have never been in a relationship // I have a crush (do fictional ones count!?) // my crush has confessed to me // I have a long distance relationship // I believe in true love

MISCELLANEOUS

Gen Z // Millenial (early Millenial, to be precise) // Gen X // Boomer // I enjoy spending time with friends // I am the mom friend // I (have) own(ed) a dog // I (have) own(ed) a cat // I (have) own(ed) a bird // I (have) own(ed) an exotic animal // I know how to swim // I play a sport // I can do a handstand // I can execute a perfect somersault // I have won a trophy in some sort of competition // I can play an instrument (at least I could ... once) // I enjoy singing // I am artistic // I can do origami // I can do calligraphy // I know more than one language // I enjoy writing (sometimes) // I have read a new book (series) this year // I prefer movies to tv shows (I like both, if they're good) // I wish I lived in a video game // I live by a certain quote // I make up scenarios to fall asleep // I like the smell of sharpies // I enjoy cooking & baking (primarily cooking, but yeah) // I can cook or bake without a recipe (not in terms of baking, but with cooking - definitely yes ... after 20 years of being the family chef, I've actually gotten quite good at it) // I enjoy Japanese food // I enjoy Mexican food // I enjoy Italian food // I could survive in the wild on my own // I travel during work or school breaks // I can fall asleep in a moving vehicle // I don’t often smile // I have at least one interest commonly considered as weird (of course, I'm a sperg, after all ... anyway, I'm very much into ET & UFO stuff)

-

Whoever wants to do this - feel welcome to!

Aside from that, I'm tagging:

@aikoiya

@memoriesoftanalorr

@mikeilo

@chattegeorgiana

@goddessoffire1984

[weekend-whip]

I wanna know what hobbies the folks in the royalty au have. Fun facts. What do these bitches do without internet.

Well most of them do the same things they do normally, just with different context.

With the Western Kingdom being all the about the arts, entertainment, and expression, Cole's hobbies include dancing, listening to music, painting, and drawing—he'd normally be pretty chill and just vibing, if his father wasn't so gung-ho about getting him hitched. And being depressed about that on top of having limited time anymore anyway has deterred Cole from doing things for himself (which is something Jesse seeks to rectify). Also enjoys sleeping, but like, that's not a hobby, Cole.

Always constantly busy with his job(s), Jay doesn't have a lot of free time either, but he's still able to pursue a lot of his craftier hobbies, like poetry writing, cooking, and he doesn't invent so much as "improve" upon things that may or may not need to be fixed. Let's just say he's a guy ahead of his time...and is something of an adrenaline junkie when allowed to be.

Instead of being a journalist/papergirl/extreme cyclist, Antonia likes horseback riding! She also does still like to write stories, which helps occupied some dead time while guarding the boring garden gate, but they're less based on facts/rumors and more on just general goings-on around the castle.......so, Jesse and the Spring Festival are a fantastic source of inspiration for her. Also tries to learn to paint after getting closer with Cole (and inadvertently gives Jay the idea for a mystical object called a 'camera').

Can't remember if I've mentioned this in-story yet (all I know is that Cole doesn't know yet lol), but Jesse's actually a citizen of the Central Kingdom—the real (or, initial) reason he went West was in the hopes of making it big as a magic entertainer. So whenever he's not tending to the gardens or swooning over Cole, he's practicing his magic tricks (another reason why Antonia takes to him—he's really good at beating out boredom). He also likes to sing, but, he's gotta be in a really good mood for that. Also, not technically a dedicated hobby, but he does enjoy baking, even if he doesn't like to admit it (he just needs to right motivation...like a very hungry prince).

In the Southern Kingdom, they're all about agriculture and trade, so while I wouldn't call it a "hobby", Kai and Nya are both extremely skilled in farming, negotiations, and economics (Nya moreso with the farming and Kai moreso with the business). But for fun, Nya likes to spend time on the beaches watching (read: talking to) sea life or collecting shells, while Kai likes to travel if/when he can, as he likes to experience more than just his kingdom. Both of them also have a knack for crafting weapons—Kai by forging and Nya...more as crazy DIY projects, also maybe a bit ahead of her time. Nya also likes horseback riding and Kai likes jogging.

In the Northern Kingdom, they have a strong foundation in battle maneuvers and tactical strategy, so a younger Zane found himself doing a lot of studying while being trained with several weapons. He now has a fondness for archery and darts (but with throwing stars), and can easily pass the time with a nice informative book. He also enjoys bird watching like Aurora, and venturing through the forest until he gets lost, but otherwise is actually quite lonely.

...until Samurai X shows up. They're originally from Central as well, but their father and Zane's parents are acquaintances, so one thing led to another with them becoming Zane's retainer. They enjoy playing things like chess and other board games with Zane, and sparring with him, but for the duration of most the story they don't really have a lot of personal stake in much of anything.

The Eastern Kingdom is the home of most of the world's history (along with Central), so being well-read is already par for the course. What isn't common is the dabbling of magic, which is where Harumi's passions lie, especially after discovering Jesse has magic of a similar source. She reads up on ancient artifacts, studies spells, keeps a pet spider, and teaches herself to throw knives, but otherwise, she's a dreadfully bored person, and that's why she has little hesitation in butting herself into other people's problems. That's entertainment.

Lloyd, despite his well-behaved behavior to avoid trouble, has a nasty habit of pulling pranks around the otherwise structured Central Kingdom and eventually the Spring Festival (activities which are very much enabled by his retainers, and ofc praised by his father). He does this because he's good at it and hates to let a well-honed skill go to waste, and it's also something of a cry for attention. He also becomes interested in the cultures of the other Kingdoms, including but not limited to the art/stories of the west, the weapon aspects of the north and south, and the history of the east, like his mother. He also enjoys paragliding (which is something that Jay got him hooked on).

You may think visiting the Archipelago is like arriving on some tropical vacation, but the only one being entertained is its current ruler. He puts on tournaments just for sport of it, and will banish anyone for doing anything he doesn't agree with...so, Skylor doesn't have a lot of room to do very much, but on the flipside, it also means she's down for anything/everything when given a chance, as just about everything is new to her (which is what draws her to Kai and the other royals to begin with). Though one thing she is a bit guilty about enjoying is her younger self partaking in those tournaments herself—primarily due to the rush from the fact that she's never lost (and especially not to Chad).

[jonathanwrotethis]

The Rhoscolyn Coastal Path

I finally fell asleep a little after 1am last night - after lying in bed listening to noises in the roof-space of the ancient cottage we’re staying in. A furious guest had written a review on the agent’s website complaining about a mouse infestation that nobody else seemed to have experienced, or found. I figured it out.

The hot water and heating system for the cottage obviously has pipes retro-fiitted through the rafters - some of which run through the bedroom ceiling. Anybody that’s every lifted their floorboards or re-built ceilings knows that pipes are usually cut into rafters. Guess what happens when pipes get hot? They expand. Guess what happens when a pipe expands, and is cut into rafters that might have swollen over time? It sounds exactly like something running across the roof space. Only it doesn’t - unless it’s a clock-work mouse that keeps a perfect pace, or that accelerates to 60 miles per hour when the heating periodically kicks in.

If you’re wondering how I could tell the difference to the real thing, it’s because we HAD the real thing in our roof space a few years ago. A tile came off the roof, and we had visitors for a few weeks. I poisoned them all (I know, I’ll go to hell), and we had the roof fixed - but for those few nights, we heard them.

Anyway.

This morning was an exercise in learning to slow down. After I had got up, had a shower, got dressed, made coffee, fixed the roman blinds in the living room (I wonder how long they had been broken for?) and sat in the garden listening to the local radio, my other half appeared in her PJs - rubbing her eyes. She was obviously showing me how to do this “going slow” thing.

After an hour of eating toast, drinking our own body-weight in tea, and deliberating about what to wear, we set off towards the coast path, and the wilds of Holy Island.

While walking, exploring, and stopping to watch and listen to various birds, we wished we had brought (a) a bird book, and (b) a pair of binoculars. We own both - several of both - and they are all at home. We saw oyster catchers, kestrels, herring gulls, sparrow hawks, and all manner of smaller birds.

Along the western side of Rhoscolyn we saw numerous groups of climbers on the quite beautiful cliffs and rocks - picking their way from hold to hold, and threading ropes through carabinas. I will admit it gave me the willies just watching them.

After crossing to the eastern coast – with Mount Snowdon and Snowdonia painting picture postcard vistas across the horizon - we passed RAF Valley and dropped down into Silver Bay - walking the beach at low tide on our own before spying a small building selling exactly the kids of refreshments you might like after walking for a few hours.

We won't talk about the elderly norther man walking a dog that nearly attacked us. He *knew* it was dangerous as he approached - looking concerned that they had encountered anybody at all. The dog started bareing it's teeth, and lashed out at despite us both stepping back against the fence as far as we could. I will admit to taking some delight in knowing that he would be walking through a field of bulls in a few minutes time. Let's hope they didn't stampede the dog (not).

Walking back into Rhoscolyn, we stopped once again at the White Eagle, and wondered quite who might own the imposing black house on the edge of the peninsula - replete with fake burial mound stones on the lawn, and Tim Burton-esque gates. We really should look it up.

This evening we’re back in the cottage, overdosed on o-zone and vitamin D, and enjoying the peace and quiet once again.

I wonder if the non existent mice will return this evening?