#Gemstone Jewelry Making Process

[geliseelise]

Understanding Jewelry CAD Design within the Gemstone Jewelry-Making Process

Whether streamlining the business process, enhancing customer support, or offering an online portal from where your customers can purchase, technology has impacted every sector, especially the jewelry industry. The most important contribution of technology in the jewelry-making process is jewelry CAD (Computer-Aided Designing) and CAM (Computer-Aided Manufacturing)

[jindalgems]

5 Reasons Why Semi-Precious Beads are Preferred for Jewelry Making

Elegant, posh, and vibrant, semi-precious beads is a whole league unto itself due to its remarkable use of semi-precious stones. The best part about semi-precious beads is that there is something for everyone; because of its wide variety, you’d find every piece to suit your preference and occasion. Whether you are someone who is a beginner or an aficionado of accessories, and love buying Indian imitation breads online, you must invest in a few all-time classics of semi-precious beads.

[oldwritingm]

Creepypasta/MH - How They Would Welcome You Back (after not seeing you for a while)

Characters: Nina the Killer, Jeff the Killer, Eyeless Jack, Tim/Masky, Jane the Killer

Nina

Shouts your name when she sees you, and BOLTS into you

She crashes against you, almost losing her balance from the sheer force

Her arms are flung around you, pinning your own arms to your sides with surprising strength

"Eek! Y/n! Aah... I missed you so much!"

She giggles as she finally lets you go, settling her hands on your shoulders while she looks at you with a huge smile

She compliments your appearance eagerly, and blushes when you do the same

She can't stop giggling throughout the whole process though

Literally nonstop... but she's just so happy!!

Normally she'd suggest a more exciting hangout, like stalking people at the mall or... y'know... putting the laughter in slaughter or smth legal activities

But this time she just wants to stay home and hold you :3

And maybe watch a movie with ice cream too!

Jeff

Pretends to be all nonchalant about it

"Oh, you're back. Hey."

Especially if others are around

But his eyes keep lingering on you, and though you're across the room it feels like he's looming over you

His presence is just so..... unsettling? Like, more than usual lol

Bro's just watching so closely

It'd make anyone nervous, but if you're dating Jeff you're definitely crazy enough not to be too disturbed

Because you know what's actually waiting for you when you're alone

Not murder, but:

He throws an arm around your shoulder and another under your knees, scooping you up wordlessly

Then it's cuddle time :]

He'll be doing something else while you cuddle, and he won't say anything, but if you try to move or get up he'll glare daggers at you

In his mind, you're making up for lost time together

Eyeless Jack

He'd have been waiting for your return

No matter how long he had to wait, he was always ready

Clean home (well, as clean as a cannibalistic demon's home can be), hot food ready, fluffy blankets on the bed...

So when you finally do come, he gets straight to the point

The point being spoiling you ofc

He loves taking care of you; that's his way of showing affection

So he's just excited to finally do that again!

He wouldn't have given you any physical affection when seeing you I think

The most he'd have done would've been to grab your hand to lead you along

"Y/n! I'm so glad to see you again... come on, everything's ready for you."

Tim/Masky

He's dumbfounded when he sees you again

Like, he just blinks at you

It's as if he never expected you to return :(

"Y/n..?"

Then he pulls you into a hug, finally processing the fact that you're there

The same smell of cigarettes and coffee fills your nose, and you breathe it in deeply

(He's lowkey doing the same with your smell)

The hug finishes with one more super-tight squeeze, then he pulls away to look at your face

"Hey."

He's so smooth guys <3

But on a real note, he's just so surprised to see you; he doesn't know how to react

Trust me though, he's never letting you go again

Jane

I think she'd have something planned too

So when she sees you again, she gets really excited

She tries to keep it somewhat cool though, greeting you warmly with a kiss on the cheek and a hug

But you can tell she's trying not to act excited... she's rocking on her heels way more than "usual" (never)

Finally she tells you to close your eyes, and you can really tell she's excited now

She puts something in your hands and kisses you on the mouth

When you open your eyes, you see a jewelry box in your hand

It's your favorite form of jewelry (ring, necklace, bracelet, anklet, etc) in your favorite gemstone/color!!

She loves seeing you wear the things she gets you, especially when she puts so much thought into them

Just like she did this time ;3

Bit of a different style from the other one, but here we go!! Thank you so much for reading, take care my duckies! <3

(divider by saradika)

[mayrose713]

Beautifully Cruel World-Chapter 17

Series Masterlist | Previous | Next

ABO Non-Idol Stray Kids Universe Poly OT8 x Reader 18+ MDNI

Warnings in the Series Masterlist as well as any other information needed

Chapter 17

“Wow!” Y/n looks around in awe. “Are farmers markets always this big?” 

“Jeju does a mix of a farmers market and a craft fair.” Minho smiles as he holds her hand to make sure she doesn’t leave his side. “Most of the booths are venders from the island but some do come from the mainland too, why it’s so big.”

“Make sure to stay close to us at all times, princess.” Hyunjin smiles down at her as they start to walk into the busy crowd. 

“Are we sure it’s a good idea to have Hyunjin in the sun after he got sunburned at the beach the other day?” She looks up at the beta’s still red cheeks.

“I made him put sunscreen on today.” Minho reassured her. 

“More like had Chan and Changbin hold me down while you applied it.” Hyunjin grumbles, crossing his arms.

“What are we looking for specifically?” The omega looks around feeling that with all the booths that are set up one of them will have whatever you are looking for.

“Right now we’re not looking for anything specific.” Hyunjin grabs her other hand. “That’s what’s great about craft fairs, you might find something you didn’t know you were needing. If something catches your eye just let us know.”

“The only thing we do need is I’m wanting to get a few things for dinner tonight but we’ll grab those things closer to being done here.” Minho says while looking around them. 

“What are you planning on making?” Hyunjin looks at the alpha.

“I was thinking some bibimbap and kimchi stew.”

“God I love your kimchi stew.” He hums, already excited for dinner when it’s still late morning.

They walk around the craft fair for a while, stopping at many booths. Y/n bought a few nick-nacks for her room to personalize it to be more her with some of the cash Chan had given her. Hyunjin of course tried to buy everything she thought was remotely interesting, which she deemed wasn't necessary, but she did let him buy her a few pieces of art for her room. 

As the omega and beta look at some more art pieces, Minho walks off to one of the handmade jewelry booths. He gazes over them carefully but none really catch his eye until he sees a few necklaces with pendants made into shapes out of gemstones.

“I see you’re taking interest in these beautiful crystals.” The stall’s owner walks up to him, an older alpha male. “All of these are hand shaped by me in my workshop, one of a kind you could say. There are no two pendants alike.”

“Sweetheart, the poor boy doesn’t want to hear the long process of how you make them.” An older female omega places her hand on the man's chest with a small smile before looking at Minho. “Is there a certain piece of jewelry or maybe a shape you are looking for? Or a certain gemstone?”

“Ummm, I’m just kind of browsing. Though these are beautiful.” He looks over the pendants again, thinking about how Y/n would look wearing one of these.

The boys had all discussed collaring her at some point like they did with Felix after he came out as feeling more omega like. Hundreds of years ago collaring an omega normally meant they were your property but it changed to eventually mean a representation of love. Pack members normally gift an omega a collar as a form of a promise ring now and to show other alphas that the omega has a mate, or mates, if they can’t see the claiming bites. Though collars aren’t as common these days after the disease almost wiped omega’s out. Even though many alpha’s and packs have omega’s sold to them now, collars being a representation of love has not changed. 

“Are you looking for a piece of jewelry for someone specific?”

Minho hesitates before nodding. “Yeah, for one of my fated mates.” He looks up at the women before turning his head to where Hyunjin and Y/n are still browsing at another booth. “She’s our omega.”

The couple look towards the omega and beta that Minho is looking lovingly at with a smile. “She’s beautiful.”

“Have you thought of collaring her?” The male asks, making the younger turn back to them.

“We’ve discussed it but when we look at collars online none ever stick out to us as one we want to give her.”

“Well you don’t want to be giving her any of these necklaces, that’s all they are.” The man grabs a case from inside the booth and places it on the table. “We do have a special selection of collars though.”

Minho’s eyes widen when he opens the case showing many beautiful collars, the pendants all shaped differently and made of different gemstones.

“You know, crystals all have different meanings right? Almost like they have powers to help with different aspects you are needing in life.” The woman asks.

“I’ve heard of that.” He nods, even though he never really believed in the crystals being anything more than pretty rocks, he feels that Y/n might see them the same way as this omega does. “What do each one of these mean?”

“Son, they all have so many different meanings.” The male laughs. “But lucky for you my wife here always knows how to narrow down the crystal selection just by looking at the person it is meant for.”

His wife gazes at Y/n for a moment before looking at Minho with a sad smile. “She’s been through a lot hasn’t she?” He looks at her surprised. “Before she met your pack she wasn’t well loved or treated? I feel that she didn’t really come to terms with her omega representation until she met you guys huh? This is her first time experiencing a real pack dynamic.”

“How did you…?”

“I told you she’s good.” The alpha sighs, not happy with what his wife deduced from the girl.

“Based on that and the fact you guys are wanting to give the collar to her as more of a promise ring, I recommend either rose quarts or amethyst.” She points to the pendants that are blush pink, violet and purple. “Rose quartz is known as the ‘crystal of unconditional love’. It's associated with the heart chakra. A popular stone for attracting love and strengthening relationships as it can create trust, tolerance, and feelings of self-love. Amethyst is known as the stone of St. Valentine, a symbol of faithful loves. A popular choice for those seeking a soulmate, it can balance emotions and bring a sense of calm.”

As Minho listens he looks at all the pendants closely, he feels more drawn to the amethysts. Many of the pendants are shaped like hearts, animals, moons, stars and so much more. He finally sees one that's a bit hidden behind two hearts and he grabs it to see that it’s a shape of a compass rose.

“This one.” Minho feels it deep down that the others will also agree that it’s the one.

“Perfect choice.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The three walk through the farmers market area, the males already carrying a few bags of ingredients for dinner, Y/n just following along with a smile as she admires everything. She then spots a booth selling little desserts that are being made fresh on little gas stoves. 

“What are those they’re making?” She stops near the booth watching as one person works a stove with a fish mold on it, and another frying what looked to be little pancakes.

“They’re making bungeoppangs and hotteoks.” Minho explains watching the girl rather than the chefs.

“Have you seriously never had them before?” Hyunjin looks at her shocked when she shakes her head no. “Man, your family really deprived you of a lot.”

“Well let's get some then.” Minho walks over to the booth and orders them each a fish shaped pastry and a small basket of the sweet pancakes. 

They walk over to a small rest area with tables set up for people to sit and eat. 

“Eat the hotteoks first. They’re better warm.” Hyunjins already digging into his mini pancakes as Minho watches her waiting to see her reaction to the desserts.

She takes a bite and her eyes light up. “These are amazing.” She takes another bite before she has even finished chewing the first one. 

“Slow down, kitten.” Minho warns as he now eats his. “Don’t want you to choke.”

She blushes and slows down, eating the rest of the pancakes before moving on to the fish shaped pastry. She takes a bite but doesn’t have the same reaction to it as she did the hotteok.

“It’s good, but I like the hotteoks better.”

“I figured you would.” Hyunjin nods with a smile watching her eat the bungeoppang. 

“I’ll make you some homemade hotteoks whenever you want.” Minho smiles.

______________________________________________________________

Taglist is closed for a bit as I am unable to tag anymore right now

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@violet-hatake @idkwhoisthis1971 @mo0n13 @yumuramma @nuggiesnuggetdog04 @pineapplekitty3-16 @straykidslover2024

[ikkyfics]

Rings

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: "Well, now that we have the rings... what else is on the list? Invitations? Music? Or can we just run away and get married tomorrow? You know I’d be up for it, right?"

Warnings: none

Part 2 of Marry Me

Masterlist

The wizarding jewelry store was a charming place, almost like a solid dream. Floating chandeliers glowed softly, casting colorful beams of light that danced across the display windows. Each piece on display seemed unique, as if it told its own story, shining in delicate shades of gold, silver, and platinum, with gemstones that pulsed lightly, as if they had a life of their own. You were holding hands with James, his fingers intertwined with yours, as he looked around with an almost childlike excitement.

"Well," he began, gently squeezing your hand as his vibrant blue eyes scanned the shop, "I think we need to find something that’s... perfect. Something that will make everyone know, without a doubt, that you’re mine."

You laughed, but felt the warmth rise to your cheeks. "James, I’m already yours. The ring is just... a detail."

He stopped in his tracks, gently spinning you so you were face to face. "Oh, love, it’s so much more than a detail. It’s the symbol of all this," he said, gesturing between the two of you. "Of me and you. Of all the times you made me laugh, of all the nights I knew I was exactly where I was meant to be, just because you were there. I want it to be the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen."

Before you could respond, a shop attendant appeared, an elderly wizard with a kind demeanor and a silver beard that looked like strands of light. "Ah, young lovers," he said with a warm smile. "Welcome to our shop. I’m sure we’ll find something as unique as your story."

James immediately got excited, beginning to describe what he had in mind. "Something simple, but... special. Maybe with our initials or some detail that has meaning. Oh, and that matches her hands," he said, holding up your hand and lifting it for the attendant to examine.

"Of course," the man replied, picking up a fine wand and gesturing to a nearby display. Small rings began to float, each with a unique glow. Some had stones that changed color slightly depending on the angle, others had small enchantments that made engravings appear and disappear with a touch.

"Look at this one," James said, pointing to a delicate gold band with a small stone that seemed to shine with the light of a tiny star. "It looks like your eyes," he added, smiling at you.

"James," you said, trying not to laugh. "I don’t need something that extravagant."

"Extravagant? This is just the beginning," he teased, pulling out another ring with small carvings that seemed to form a map when illuminated. "Maybe something that reminds us of that trip to Hogsmeade, when you finally said you liked me."

"I said I liked you because you were impossible to ignore," you replied, crossing your arms with an amused smile.

"And it still works today," he shot back, leaning in to steal a quick kiss.

In the end, the attendant suggested a personalized idea: a fine ring, with your initials engraved on the inside, accompanied by a simple spell that would make the initials glow lightly every time you were near each other. When he explained that the rings could also pulse gently, as a constant reminder of each other’s presence, you saw James' eyes light up.

"This is it," he said, without hesitation.

"Are you sure?" you asked, glancing at him sideways.

"Absolutely," he replied, holding your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours once more. "Because that’s exactly what you are to me, love. My constant presence. My reminder that, no matter where I am, it's with you I want to be."

The fitting process was almost magical. As soon as the rings were enchanted and dipped into the finishing solution, the final glow was revealed. James carefully held it, sliding the ring onto your finger just to "test" it.

"See? Perfect," he said with a side smile, his eyes locked on yours.

James held your hand firmly, even more excited after the ring’s approval. He couldn’t seem to hide the smile that lit up his face. "Well, now that we have the rings... what else is on the list? Invitations? Music? Or can we just run away and get married tomorrow? You know I’d be up for it, right?"

You laughed, shaking your head, but the warmth in your chest grew with his comment. "James, you know I want the full wedding. No running away. And besides, you promised you'd pick the music with Sirius, remember?"

He made an exaggerated grimace, letting out a dramatic sigh. "Oh, right. Because everyone trusts Sirius Black's taste in music. You know he’ll suggest something completely inappropriate, right? I bet he’ll want to play some Queen anthem for the entrance."

You raised an eyebrow. "And you wouldn't think that’s amazing?"

James tried to hide it, but the corner of his mouth betrayed a contained smile. "Maybe. But only because I’ll be too busy looking at you to hear anything."

The comment made your cheeks flush, and you turned your gaze away, pretending to study the shop windows around you. James didn’t miss the opportunity and leaned in a little, trying to catch your face again. "Hey, no point in hiding. I’ve said it before and I’ll repeat it until you believe me: there’s nothing in this world that makes me happier than seeing you like this. Than knowing that you’re mine."

You looked at him, a shy smile escaping before teasing him, "You always know what to say, don't you?"

"No," he replied sincerely, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Actually, I get kind of goofy around you. A walking disaster. But somehow, it always works."

He stopped abruptly, gently pulling you to a quieter corner of the street. "Seriously, love... you know how grateful I am for you, don’t you? For every second, every laugh, every moment. You make everything worth it. And these rings are just the beginning of everything I want to give you."

You felt your eyes begin to well up, but before you could respond, he leaned in, his fingers gently gliding to hold your face. The kiss he gave you was delicate, as if trying to convey every word he couldn’t say. When he pulled away, his smile was softer, but his eyes still shone brightly.

"Now," he began, resuming the intertwining of your fingers, "I think it’s time to find an excuse to celebrate this. How about lunch? Or maybe we stop by my parents' house to show them our choice? My mum’s going to want to know every detail, you know that."

You nodded, your heart full. "Yes, but only if you promise you’ll defend the choice if Sirius starts teasing."

James threw his head back, laughing, and kissed your temple quickly. "I promise. But who knows, maybe he’ll give in to the charm of these magical rings."

The two of you walked hand in hand through the busy streets of Hogsmeade, mentally planning the next steps and the visits you still needed to make. Every little detail seemed to bring more excitement and certainty that the future you were building together would be everything you had always dreamed of—and so much more.

[artbydungeon]

Praise be to the grill!!!

Happy Calibration @paint-lady! I was very excited by your open brief for the God of the Grill. They sound fantastic and I very much got carried away with creating this. If you’re interested in the process and some WIP images, continue reading below the cut. And as always - thank you @shiftingpath for hosting the Exalted Secret Santa art exchange.

So I actually did quite a lot of research to get here. I started off looking for deities I could draw inspiration from. I had Hestia in my brain, as Goddess of the hearth, but I didn’t really want to go the Greek pantheon way this time. I ended up finding Kojin, a Japanese God of the hearth and deity of the cooking range. The sentiment of taking something dangerous like fire, and using it for the good of humanity, felt like such a strong vibe and I wanted to apply it to the God of the Grill. So Kojin was my starting point.

Kojin has 8 heads and 4-6 arms, which looks awesome, but also was something I didn’t want to just copy without there being any meaning behind it. I figured since the God of the Grill isn’t a powerful God, he could stick with 2 arms. As for the number of heads, I liked the idea of 5 - one for each direction of Creation. I reasoned that 4 of those heads could be a more human-look for the God, each reminiscent of one of the 4 threshold directions (and it also leaves the door open for him to have many other faces!). The 5th look I wanted to be his God form, and I wanted to make sure that it used fire in some way.

I tried a few different things with the heads, but I wasn’t liking anything. I ended up putting the other heads on his body as faces, like little gemstones instead of fancy jewelry. This felt like something which fit my style more and less like an existing deity squeezed into this idea. It was during this time as well I wanted to dress the God of the Grill in a South of Creation style, and I looked into the big glam energies of Bollywood for more style inspiration.

Finally, I wanted to add a few less human-like elements as paint-lady mentioned in the journal post that the God should reflect their charge. So details like the coal on the chest and the hair billowing like smoke came in. Being a foodie, I imagined this God would be on the plus side body wise, so I also took a bit of a swerve back into Japanese references and looked at some sumo wrestlers to try and get the bod type I was searching for in a reference.

Now that I’d actually got the character design down - it was time to actually do the piece! I settled on a simple floating pose because I live for those when it comes to beings with essence, and surrounded the God deliciousness.

Here's the WIP images of the final piece:

And that's everything! I hope you like what I did with this character!!

[in-the-multiverse]

While almost everyone carves wooden things, Golden Fool went for shiny. He was the one and only goldsmith on the server and took pride in making beautiful jewelry. It was mostly for himself: dozens of bulky rings so he could flaunt a new combination every week, chandelier earrings ranging from gothic to floral, torque and festoon necklaces when he felt extra fancy, simpler and lighter necklaces on the days that called for a minimal (but still quite stylish) look

The gemstones that were skillfully embedded in them came from…around the server. Didn’t matter where, everything was his anyways. He stood clear of the “cursed” crystals the wizard man had. Ugly plastic

No one else was allowed to wear his jewelry. There were, however, very few exceptions

Milkman isn’t one to wear big, fancy shmancy gold. He likes how they look, but honestly- they’re too clunky and noisy for him. The first thing Fool made for him were gold buttons to replace the wack plastic ones on his jacket. Just a pop of color, a little glamour with a geometric pattern. Halfway through the smithing process, Fool had an idea for a matching gold patch on his hat. Then two extra buttons for the end of his jacket sleeves as well. He tailored them in with care

They were small, dapper, perfect, and Milkman loved them. His partner admired the new look in the mirror. There was an extra shine to him —and not just literally— confidence lit up his face, he had an extra pep in his step as he walked around the server, and those long hours Fool spent making the ornaments look just right became very worth it to see Milkman a little happier

Every now and again, Milkman came to him with a sheepish request for new gold. He promised he was doing his best to not accidentally fall into the void. It held up to be true. As the months went by, void deaths become scarce and the occasional creeper was to blame for lost accessories. And every time he asked for new ones: Fool gave the same deep sigh, crossed his arms and asked “So what design would you like this time?” Milkman always complimented the speed it took for them to be created, and he was delighted by the extra surprises thrown in

Fool didn’t tell him about the hidden chest filled with an array of golden buttons, patches, gemstone hat charms, and hat pins. He saw this coming

In the early days, Vintage wanted to wear dangle earrings with cherry wood flowers. It took a lot of trial and error. During a hangout, she carved off more than expected, kept trying to save it as a smaller design, kept misjudging cuts, until her earrings became sad little chunks. It had been a long week and she almost gave up on wood carving right then and there

Fool sat down next to them and shared a handful of stories where he screwed up gold smithing. Like- taking a sip of molten gold instead of the cup of coffee that was right next to it, or that time he sneezed while etching a very complicated pattern and continued one millimeter off, one exhausted afternoon he chipped off gold from his skin instead of his project—ouch—, and boy was he glad no one else was around the day his (unchecked) workstation collapsed on itself and he had to literally play the floor is lava. With each retelling, he was met with a surprised laugh and the frustration eased from Vintage’s shoulders. She wasn’t alone in making mistakes. If Fool went through it and still made amazing works, it wasn’t hopeless for her

He taught her a couple tricks to get 3d shapes a little closer to what she imagined in her head. Gold smithing and wood carving were very different processes, but any idea began at a sketch

Two weeks later, Vintage gifted him a charm bracelet. It was decently detailed and adjusted nicely to his wrist. Not shiny, but their pride at finally making something look cute and the time they spent on it was more than enough to graciously wear it. A couple days later, Fool surprised her with a beaded bracelet, gorgeously flower themed. They could be matching!

Vintage adored it and showed it off to anyone who stopped to have a conversation with her. When the others yearned for a cool shiny thing like hers, she gave a sweet smile and teased them for being on Fool’s enemy list. Because even if birch was on neutral grounds with someone, it was only a matter of time before crime and chaos fell their way. Anyone who wasn’t a friend was kept at arm’s length. Which meant— no shiny for youuu

One day it disappeared. Must’ve gotten lost in cherry’s god awful storage system. Vintage felt so, so sorry they lost it. They knew Fool spent precious time on it and they’d hate to be a bother asking for another one. But Fool shrugged it off, it was no biggie, really. In fact, it gave him the opportunity to indulge in designs he sketched out. By the end of the week he made a new friendship bracelet, charm necklace, and cuff ring that suited her unicorn horn nicely. Vintage was so happy she nearly cried, she thanked him over and over and promised to keep them in a better place

A few weeks went by, and she was utterly distraught at losing them. All of them. She swore up and down they were in her enderchest, she did wear them out one fancy evening, must’ve forgotten to put it back. They said they checked all over cherry kingdom and retraced her steps, but no shiny :(

Again they lamented to Fool, and again he workshopped another few accessories to replace those. By the 4th time, he started to question her genuineness. His gifts never lasted longer than 3 weeks, it seemed more like a scheduled “disappearance”. It was by chance he spotted her strolling on the edge of the shopping district with her new jewelry. She clasped them off, held a fistful of his work over the edge, and let it drop

He stopped talking with Vintage after that. She’d been acting weird lately anyways. Their handcrafted bracelet went to the void, too

And when Milkman accused him of working behind his back— oohhh

Fool stormed up to the hidden chest and melted everything back into a pot of liquid gold. It was his and he could do whatever he wanted with it. Have it ready to be refurnished into new accessories for himself. Milkman would never get anything new, either

When the Halloween Ball rolled around, he made sure to wear the most exquisite gold he’s ever made. He wanted eyes on him. He wanted people to feel jealous when they looked at him. He wanted admiration like no other and hoped it would draw the others to him. Novelty was the gateway to trust. Just. Everyone to give him another chance

Look at how incredible his gold smithing was! Didn’t you want something shiny too? Didn’t you want to be his friend?

Eyes definitely looked in his direction. But the longer the night dragged on the more self conscious he became. People kept their distance. Fool swatted away any naive hope that dared fester in his lonely soul. Of course they did. They should. Everyone was hiding something, exchanging whispers and glances that could only be about him. How dare he dress himself as a spectacle, and beckon attention when none of them deserved it. Everyone had a weird thing going on with them. Everyone had it out for him. What else did the void want? More of his jewelry? His kingdom? They had to be working together. They wanted to take more from him. He couldn’t trust these…these—

A glint of gold called to him

Amongst the crowd, a singular hat pin shined underneath the chandelier lights. Milkman was lost in his own world, giggling and dancing with someone else

Fool heard the gold on his skin crack and crumble

The greedy one having a love language of gift giving was a pretty big deal

The Librarian knows this, and they know they aren’t here to be a replacement. They leave his goldsmith workshop alone

Let it collect dust

[meownotgood]

let us live, if we must die. / chapter three: eclipse

You are a witch, and since the purging of all magic, you've been forced to live a life of solitude and secrecy. Your destiny was always beyond your control — until, by a pure twist of fate, you unknowingly fell for the kingdom's only prince. 

════════════════════

pairing: prince!aki x witch!reader

word count: 15.3k

tags: fantasy au, royalty au, reader is fem, reader has many Thoughts, hurt / comfort, aki comforting reader, angst, but don't worry they're figuring things out

notes: thank you for patiently waiting for this chapter, I hope you enjoy it!! the next chapter will be long as well, so I appreciate your patience again... love you and appreciate you

masterlist read on ao3 join the taglist here!

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You always knew Aki was royalty. 

In the time since you first hid away in this forest, you've learned to take necessary precautions. You track the whereabouts of demons each time you go out, drawing them away with spells, and watching for fresh footprints. You learned to attune yourself completely to the magic circle you created, to be sure you'll catch the faint waves of an unfamiliar aura the moment it enters. 

Spells can summon certain books from a handful of easy to find materials, and those books can then be used to summon more. Your mother's grimoires, the few you managed to take with you when you fled the city, became your gateway into a world you'd never once known. 

Deciphering magical tomes takes patience. It's a lengthy process, but it's worth it. You've learned the means to make valuable potions, and you've mastered spells that could save your life: invisibility, hypnosis, spell-shields. With so much time on your hands, and with the unbound freedom to do so, you have no reason to ever stop honing your magic. 

You can always learn more, you can always be safer. You must be prepared for every situation, and you need to take all outcomes into account. No-one can be trusted; no-one but yourself. In the moment of truth, you can't afford to make any mistakes. You need to be ready. For anything, and everyone. 

And so, when an inexplicable, elven, injured stranger comes knocking — and promptly passes out — at your door, the first damn thing you're going to do is check all his pockets. 

It doesn't take the wisdom of a thousand year old wizard to know he was from the city. The kingdom is the only notable settlement for miles. There's small towns here and there. Farmland you'll pass if you're making your way to the gates. No offense to him — to Aki, right, you still need to learn his name — but he doesn't seem like a farm boy. Or an adventurer. Or royalty, for that matter. 

You couldn't have known. Obviously, he'd be from the city, but royalty? An alleged demon-hunter and a man of royalty, how does that make any sense? 

Staring up at the shadow-filled ceiling of your bedroom, you pull your blanket up to your chin, and rub your pained temple with two fingers. You can't seem to get comfortable, no matter how much you've been tossing and turning in your bed. The living room has been silent. Aki is probably asleep now. Your mind can't seem to stop racing, either, and perhaps that's why you can't catch any sleep. 

The clothes he showed up in were simple. Racking your brain and snuggling into your bed, you bring yourself back to the moment you met him. You recall the discomfort in his expression, the crimson on his palm. The way moonlight framed him with dark hues and fuzzy edges. 

You don't know enough about jewelry to be able to tell if the earrings on his pointed ears are the expensive sort. They're simple, black, and made with smooth metal. You remember seeing a gemstone you couldn't recognize, delicately placed in the center of a hanging star. Now that you're thinking about it, they could be worth more than your life, if you're unlucky. Or maybe they're worth nothing, you suppose. Just the sort of imitations they sell for substantial mark-ups at early morning markets. 

After the mysterious stranger passed out on your doorstep, you dragged him inside and out of the rain. You didn't have a choice in the matter at the time, really. He was already limp and Gods, was he heavy. Setting up the cot and plopping him onto it was the true challenge. 

Miraculously, you found no other major injuries once you inspected him. And thankfully, most of the plant life you collected that day is perfect for healing. 

Thankfully for him, at least. You weren't exactly thrilled to spend your entire stock on someone else. You'll have to put your plans to practice potion-making on hold, you suppose. In any case, he came at just the right time. Thank the Gods for that. 

The gash on his side was as dire as you thought. It was a jagged, clearly painful slice, no doubt made by the trained swipe of a demon's talons, and enough to make you wince when you removed his shirt to examine it. Demons usually aim for the throat, whenever possible. Aki is lucky he managed to throw one of them off its aim. 

You tended to the wound quickly, cleaning it with fresh water, and salving it with herbs. Finally, you wrapped his torso in makeshift bandages, tearing off parts of your cape when you began to run out. 

You rinsed his shirt, scrubbing what stains you could out of the fabric. Upon further inspection, you noticed his hands were covered in scrapes. His fingers are long and thin. Pretty, almost. His palms were calloused, rough to the touch. Dried blood was caked into his skin. Carefully, you scrubbed the blood from his palms and his knuckles, while you tried to keep your gaze from drifting up to his face. A pointless endeavor, in the end. 

His hair fanned out around him, still slightly-damp. His brows were pinched as he slept. Warm firelight danced softly over his features: a sharp jaw, a straight nose, messy bangs. You forced yourself to look away, your face growing hot. You can't get distracted. Before he wakes, you have more important things you need to take care of. 

Once you were all finished patching him up, you leant close to make sure he was still sleeping; his chest rose and fell steadily, he exhaled in slow, calm breaths. Then, you proceeded to rummage through what he had on him. If you couldn't pick his brain yet, your best shot at discerning who he is or what he's after would be to search his belongings — and that you did. 

His pants had no pockets on the back, but two in the front. The left pocket was empty, save for one silver coin. Money means nothing to you, and so you returned it, right where it was. A promise to get out of your hair eventually was the only payment you needed. 

The other pocket, however, did carry something. Something very, very terrible. 

In the right pocket of his trousers, you found a small, gold medallion. It was smooth, circular, with a sparkling blue gem in the middle — reminiscent of the sea, and the color of his eyes. Intricate engravings surrounded the stone: runic text you couldn't quite make out in the low light, and the sun, the moon. Along with a winged dragon, curled around the empty space. 

Your heart sank so deep in your chest you just about let it drown, and that's when you knew you were absolutely doomed. 

This is the kingdom's symbol, the kingdom's royal crest. Commoners and knights are allowed to carry similar motifs, but only someone of great importance would have a medallion with this stone, and these exact symbols. 

Sapphires are only meant to be worn by descendants of royal families. They're priceless. Imitations can rarely capture their luster, although creating them is punishable with prison time — and Gods, with the way this gem sparkles when you hold it close to the fire, your head is practically spinning. 

You hold the medallion in shaky, unsure hands, unable to tear your gaze away. The room begins to twirl around you, and the gem inside shimmers, with a depth unlike anything you've ever seen. As though worlds upon universes are hidden inside it. Your throat feels as dry as a desert, and your heart won't stop hammering. You glance up. None the wiser, the man you've saved is still sleeping peacefully, his features soft, and his lips parted slightly as he lets go of faint, steady breaths. 

Oh, you've really done it this time. Could you have crossed paths with anyone worse? 

Perhaps he's a thief. He could have stolen the medallion, snatched it right out of the pockets of some oblivious royal advisor, and now he's hiding out here to avoid getting caught. As much as you want to believe that, as much as you want to imagine you don't have a man of importance in your cottage right now, that conclusion hardly makes sense. 

This man, a thief? And one skilled enough to steal a royal medallion, of all things? With the way Aki came stumbling into your magic circle and onto your doorstep, you doubt he'd know subtlety if he was hit over the head with it. 

He doesn't talk like how you imagined royalty would — Granted, how does a royal person talk? You always imagined some sort of overly flowery, fancy speech. Like the kind in the books you've read, about places and tales you'd much rather escape to. 

Aki. You've never heard a name quite like his before. Just a few syllables, just a few letters. Kings and princes and squires usually have much fancier names, don't they? The knight in the book you've been reading is named Heinrich Vincent, and the princess is called Miss Edith Violet. Perhaps only the most important people have important names. Or perhaps, those books are just as you assumed they were: fairytales, and nothing more. 

Aki is someone special then, he must be. That's your assumption — it's the only assumption you can come to, despite how the very thought makes your chest ache. He's probably a royal guard, someone with a bit of fighting experience, who thought he could stand a chance against a forest full of devils. Maybe he's some duke's distant cousin. He could be a mere knight, accepted as royalty after he became a princess' suitor. 

Honestly, he could be anything, for all you care. Your magic is what caused him to nearly die out there. It was your spell, your doing that drew the demons together. You, heralding demons with your magic, like you're one of the archmages the history books warn about. 

Your magic. Damn it all. The predicament you've found yourself in is so much worse than you ever could have imagined. 

As the night stretched on and the rain battered your cottage, your more present problem helped to keep your worries at bay. You kept busy, preparing his medicine, and tending to the roaring fireplace. He mumbled in his sleep, occasionally. It wasn't really anything of note, merely fragmented sentences that barely made sense. Mumbled swears and slurred, barely-there apologies to no-one in particular. 

When the man awakened, you held your resolve. You ignored the skip in your heart when his soft eyes met yours. You kept your unpracticed voice from wavering, and didn't shy away from any conversations. 

It's been a very long time since you've heard someone else talk, especially this much. Those knights from ages ago only spared you a moment and a handful of words. Your own voice is comfortable, a melody your ears would gladly be wrapped in. You hate this, though. You despise the way you sound when your tone is threatening to wobble. The lump in your throat is all his fault; you can't think when he's speaking to you, can't focus on anything but the firelight as it flickers over his face. 

And Aki's voice is smooth. Ridiculously smooth. He sounds assured when he speaks, his tone deep, words careful. You can't help but be hung onto everything he says to you, your spine tingling and your heart racing. It's strange, to hear a voice besides your own for once, and to have someone else filling the empty space in your quiet little cottage. 

Aki's voice holds the ocean, every word plunging you into deeper depths, until he has warm waves rolling gently over your shoulders. Heat and exhilaration engulf you whole at the simplest of sentiments. Thinking to yourself, you toss and turn again, your worn, wooden bed creaking slightly from your movement. Even now, you can't help but think of him. You picture his voice, quiet and calm. You imagine the soft smiles he gave you, and your veins surge with a feeling you can't possibly describe. 

You could listen to him speak forever. But Aki and forever are two luxuries you aren't afforded. 

If he ever discovers who you are or what you've done, you won't even get a trial. He would hate you. You could never be allies, not with the secrets you hold. Not when he is royal, and you are a witch. 

A man with such important ties to the kingdom, royalty or not, could make your fate whatever he wished. They'd schedule your execution for the very next morning, surely. The sooner you're disposed of, the better it is for the land. Hundreds would crowd the square to gawk at the witch a nobleman captured. Your poor mother would be frowning upon you from the heavens, as she watched her only child suffer her same fate. 

Even as your eyes met those of your executioner, your hands tied behind your back with your wrists rubbed raw from the rope, and your head rested over a thick piece of wood, you wouldn't fight back. None of them would see an ounce of your magic, for better, or for worse. It would die with you, and everything would be your fault. You should have been more careful. Less kind. 

Would Aki want to dispose of you himself? Could he be the one to bring his blade down on your neck? Would his normally-gentle expression be contorted in disgust, guilt, or conviction, as he whispered a deathly quiet I'm sorry to you, before his hands tightened on the hilt? 

You aren't sure, nor do you want to know. If he ever proves dangerous, in order to survive, you would have to take matters into your own hands. He seems to trust you now, but if you became enemies, if you were ever forced to —

Aki's soft, slight smile drifts through your mind right then. In your dark bedroom, you can't help but groan, and cover your face with your hands. 

No, you couldn't, you wouldn't. And it isn't just because it's him. It isn't simply because Aki is inexplicably kind and intriguing and the first person to speak with you in years. When you imagine him discovering the truth, learning who you are and deciding he hates you, a metaphorical knife twists into your gut. You'd rather he just take you to the kingdom and have you dealt with there, because even with your life on the line, you know you couldn't hurt him. 

This man could very well lead you to your end. So why, why did you tell him to stay? 

Death has always scared you, always haunted you. You've heard the stories they tell of mages, tales painting them as wicked beings who crush those who stand in their way under their feet. You want to be better. Pin you as soft, weak, or everything in between, you hardly care. Magic was meant to help, not harm. One day, perhaps far after your lifetime, magic and death won't walk hand in hand. One day, you hope you might be free. 

And Aki — he would have died without you, you're sure of it. He might not be an adventurer, but you can buy that he's an experienced fighter. His body is covered in scars, in slashes left by devil claws or teeth. His palms are rough and calloused, which would make sense if he often wields a sword. He claimed to be a devil hunter, and when he spoke, the clearest sense of desperation present in his voice, you couldn't help but believe him. 

You are a mage. A terrible, less than human blight, according to those in the kingdom. And Aki might be royalty. If you ever wound up following him to the city like he offered, you could be punished for even laying a single finger on him. 

But were you just supposed to let him perish? 

When you stood frozen in place at your door, clutching your heart as thunder broke through the night sky above, you were reminded of the kingdom. Of the death you witnessed there: the deaths of strangers, your acquaintances, your family. Your mind whirled with the image of the man you saw through the door's peephole. Chest heaving, blood dripping over his fingers; dull crimson, like the blade of an executioner's sword. 

You've seen the way one looks when light is slipping from their eyes, with no hope left of clinging onto it. You imagined the sapphire spark to Aki's eyes fading into nothingness; crushed, and crumpling. Right then, your mind must have made itself up. 

Aki doesn't deserve to die. Royalty be damned, he doesn't deserve to be eaten by those demons, left behind in an endless forest, afraid and alone. Trusting him here might wind up as the worst, most regrettable decision you've ever made. And yet, he has already trusted you with his life, hasn't he? 

Your heart just needs to take the first, fatal step. Perhaps you need to let yourself trust. 

Fucking hell. You need to stop your incessant thinking and let yourself sleep, that's what. Honestly, you've never felt this stressed in your entire life. How in the world are you supposed to handle this? Handle him? 

He won't discover you're a mage, you'll make certain of that. You can't afford to be naive, no matter how you might be feeling. It doesn't matter how fast your heart is pounding right now as you lie in bed, sleepless, unable to keep your steady stream of thoughts from flowing back to him. Simply put, it's your fault he's in this mess in the first place — and you're going to be the one to fix it. 

With a few small adjustments, you can make sure all of the magical items in your cottage are properly hidden away. You could heal him faster, if you were allowed to use magic. A potion would have him feeling better in no time, a healing spell could seal his wound almost immediately. Though, obviously, you'll have to work with the old ways for now. You'll need to make sure you're waking up early tomorrow to gather the necessary materials. 

His wound will need to be tended to frequently, to keep it from getting infected. You'll prepare a concoction of herbs for him to take twice a day, and that'll help to keep his energy up. Rest will be important too, of course. There's plenty of normal, boring books strewn around your cottage, if he needs something to put him to sleep. As long as everything goes to plan, he should be fine to leave in a couple of days. 

Right. Just a few days, and he'll be gone. The stranger you met by chance, who you saved on purpose, will fade into the forest until he becomes a fuzzy, unimportant blip in your memory. 

Somehow, the thought doesn't fill you with the relief you would've expected. 

In your cupboard, you still have some white-hazel left. Normally, the small, thin-petaled flowers don't grow during this time of year. You've decided to start keeping some extras as of late, just in case. White-hazel makes the mind foggy. The dried petals have to be sealed carefully in a jar, because the smell alone can get into your head. You would use small batches of it to ward away demons, before your distraction spells were perfected. 

You doubt you'll ever be able to forget him. However, with a potent enough dosage, if you gave Aki some of those petals, you could erase every memory he has of you. 

You'll allow him to stay, just long enough so he can recover. Once he's healthy, you'll send him on his way with a filled flask — a potion, infused with a hint of your magic. He'd only need to take a sip or two. Then, everything up until the moment he entered the forest would be lost. He wouldn't remember you, or your cottage, or the pain the demons brought upon him. It's better this way, really. 

In the meantime, you must avoid growing closer to him. Revealing even the smallest of details could put you at risk, before you have the chance to make good on your plan. He doesn't have to know your name. Nor anything about you. 

Aki is nothing more than a stranger, an unlucky coincidence, an empty promise. Ultimately, he will stay that way. 

When you eventually drift off to sleep, it isn't until hours later. Your heart stays tied up in knots, and you dream of nothing but a cold, shuddering darkness. 

— 

One thing's for sure, if Aki is a man of royal blood, he certainly doesn't act like it. 

He isn't… uncouth, as a fancy nobleman might call it. Actually, he's pretty damn polite. He always keeps his space in the living room tidy. His voice is gentle when he speaks to you, dripping with a thick sense of kindness you aren't at all used to. In the few days since he first started staying with you, he's been nothing but patient and respectful.

He's kept to resting, mostly. After the first night, you managed to move all of your spellbooks and magical items to your bedroom. By the second, you had properly concealed everything behind magic that should be impossible to detect. Although you weren't about to give him a reason, you finally made sure to mention he should continue sleeping in the living room, and avoid entering your bedroom under any circumstances. 

When you told him this morning, Aki didn't question it. He flashed you a slightly amused look, while he tugged on the laces of his boots to tighten them, and plainly, he answered, Of course. It's your bedroom, obviously I wouldn't go in. Do you take me as rude? 

Huh. No, he's far from rude, even though you never wound up formulating a response. He doesn't complain about the bitter herbs you have him take. He barely winces or grumbles while you tend to his wound, rewrapping his bandages. 

Sometimes you'd find him pacing around the living room to stretch his sore legs, but otherwise, he's been getting plenty of rest in his cot — just as you'd instructed. He's so quiet some days, if you're reading or tidying things in your bedroom, you'll tend to forget he's even there. Aki is different from what you were expecting, that's all. 

He's a good sort of different, though. Maybe it's your fault, for having such silly expectations in the first place. You thought people from the kingdom — especially people of royalty — were supposed to be stuck-up, selfish, boring. Overly-posh, and with nothing interesting to talk about besides themselves. 

You admired those from the castle when you were younger. You wanted to be noticed by them, or maybe you wanted to be them. Now, you can only imagine royalty as bland and heartless. They spend their days cooped up in their castles, tending to dull affairs. And for their nights, they attend such fancy dinners and parties, while the commoners in the kingdom are left to rot. 

Aki serves to defy all of those expectations. 

Granted, the moments you've spent together since the night you first took him in have been few and far between. He didn't seem to notice how you initially avoided him, and he didn't protest when you'd leave for the entire day to forage. He doesn't comment whenever you stow away, the door to your bedroom shut tight, while you keep to yourself for hours at a time. It's difficult to find words whenever he's near. You get choked up inside, your heart pounds in your ears like that of a frightened rabbit, and you aren't sure if it's because of the lingering fear, or perhaps the proximity. 

Tending to his wound shouldn't be the event your overthinking brain makes it out to be, but Aki sits so close, closer than anyone else has ever been. You can hear the echoes of his breathing, can feel his soft and scarred skin underneath your fingertips. His muscles tense as you press gently to the sore scrape on his side. 

Can he hear the quickened edge to your breathing, too? You wonder if Aki knows he's already killing you from the inside; no-one has ever trusted you like this, just as you've never trusted another. It's relieving to know your foolishness is mutual. 

Your conversations while you're patching him up are pleasant, albeit brief. They're space and silence fillers. Still, it's the only time where you truly get to talk to him. Where you can exchange more than a couple of words, at least. You know you only have yourself to blame, but you don't want him to realize you know more than you're letting on. You try to keep your time together and your questions to a minimum. 

Aki explains that although he's found himself in plenty of scuffles with devils before, he hasn't been wounded like this in quite a long while. Weaker devils rarely faze him, but this time, he was distracted. It'll be relieving to finally recover, he says. He wants to be able to move, to fight again. He's been growing a little stir-crazy here, apparently. 

In a hurry to leave, are you? You mumbled, while you carefully pressed a damp rag to his skin, your gaze focused on the task. The fireplace crackled from beside you, warming your limbs and chasing away the cold chill of the night. You miss the kingdom that much? 

I don't miss it at all. Aki answered, not missing a beat. He shivered from the coolness of the cloth, a fire-lit glow pooling over his slightly-tanned skin. I just feel like I could be more useful. I'm not accustomed to… to this. You're the first person I've ever owed my life to. The sooner I recover, the sooner I can begin finding some way to repay you. 

You wanted to reassure him repayment won't be necessary. In the end, you held your tongue. 

Aki continued, and with nothing else to fill the air, you listened. He's quite a good story-teller, in your opinion. As your fingers curiously felt the ridges of another deep scar on his stomach, Aki recounted the tale behind it: he was far from the city. Miles and miles, in fact. The devil he encountered was three times his size. It had a body made of bone, with a wolf-like, hollow skull, illuminated only by red eyes that shone like glowing, flickering flames. 

And you defeated it? You hum in slight disbelief, a brow raised; this time, you're looking up at him, bandages held loosely in your hands. All by yourself? 

Yes, all by myself, Aki answers, tone smooth and unflinching. His expression can't be read, but you swear you catch a hint of a barely-there smile on his lips. 

Defeating it was the easy part, He says, pointing to the jagged scar, Save for the blow it landed right here. I followed its trail into the mountains, and by the time I tracked it down, I was utterly lost. I slept out there for three days before I finally found my way back to the closest town. I showed up exhausted, hungry, and covered in every kind of scrape and bruise you can picture. 

You smooth out his bandages and secure them with a tight knot. Sounds like how we met. 

Yeah. Those townspeople weren't as kind as you are, though. They fed me river snails. 

Right then, you can't stop yourself from laughing. You're chuckling through your words — he sounded so damn serious — and you're gazing up at him with a rather playful grin. 

Snails? You question, Did they taste disgusting? 

Aki is smirking slightly, a potent spark burning in the back of his sapphire eyes. They were awful. Way worse than any medicine you could ever give me. I guess the people there thought the snails had healing properties- It took me a whole week to recover, by the way. And the inns were out of rooms, so can you guess where they had me stay? 

I'm not sure. Where? 

A brothel. 

When you freeze, your eyes going as wide as a full moon, Aki clears his throat, and he nervously glances between you and the fireplace. It was uneventful. Very, very uneventful. Definitely nothing like what you must be imagining- sorry. We should save the rest of those stories for another day. Right? 

You remember rolling your eyes, before you breathed an amused exhale, and proclaimed that yes, it certainly sounds like a stupid story, but you would like that. 

The logical side of you says you probably shouldn't. Aki isn't your ally, nor could he ever be your friend. Looking forward to the few moments you spend together is pointless, when the both of you will be forced to forget them in a few day's time. 

Aki's experiences are enthralling. His voice is like a damn vice, lulling you into getting lost in him. You haven't been anywhere but the kingdom many ages ago and this forest. But Aki has seen towns, oceans, and mountains. In pursuit of the devils he's set out to slay, he's been to places you could only dream of. He is a dream you cannot have, a friend you must not make. 

As the days stretch on and on, and as your forgotten dreams meld with the intricate stories Aki recounts for you, those little talks seem to stick inside your mind. 

If only things were different. If only you weren't you, and he wasn't what you know him to be. A man of royalty, conversing with a witch. 

Darkness will always be ruined by light. 

For now though, you have to focus on the present. Aki has been healing well from his injury. In only a few days, he's recovered most of his energy. Although he still needs a bit more time before he can put a true amount of strain on himself, he's fine to walk, at least. Fine to leave the cottage, as long as he isn't wandering far. 

And he's well enough that he can finally join you, as you venture into the depths of the forest to search for the belongings he left behind. 

— 

"Do you think my bag is still out here?" 

Staring down at your feet, you breathe a light tsk at that, and you kick a pebble with your next step forwards to send it skittering in front of you. "Possibly. Demons don't tend to mess with human junk. What did you have in there?" 

Aki hums in thought, his brows pinching. He attempts to count by using his fingers. "I had a notebook, a pen, some ink, some gold… some clothes, I think. Nothing too important." 

"If they got into your bag, maybe they'd take the coins," You answer methodically, "But otherwise, everything should be right where you left it. Keep an eye out, and let me know if anything starts looking familiar." 

The bright rays of the sun warm your bare skin, shining onto your arms and shimmering over the rippling, shallow water. You've been following the river's edge for a while now, walking along the path it creates while occasionally veering closer to the forest to look around. Aki couldn't recall exactly where he was attacked; not that you can blame him. That night was dark, stormy, and either way, every tree and bush and field of grass looks exactly the same. However, he did remember hearing the babble of the river nearby. Following it gives you the best chance of finding his things, you suppose. 

Today, the sky is bright blue and cloudless. Gravel crunches under your boots. The river laps at the rocks, and morning songbirds chirp from the distant trees. With your hands shoved in your pants pockets, and your gaze focused on your feet, you make sure to take careful steps over fallen logs and twisted roots. Aki keeps pace beside you, following you more than he's following the river. 

His hair is half-tied up like the day you met him, showing off his delicate earrings and pointed ears. He looks much different in the sunlight. More handsome, surely, spotted rays shining through the forest's canopy to paint amber patterns across his skin. The sleeves of his tunic have been rolled up to expose his scarred forearms. 

He keeps a healthy level of distance from you, not straying too far or walking too close. He's glancing between the path ahead, the forest, and sometimes to you. You're glad. If he was any closer, you doubt you'd be able to keep your thoughts clear. 

Demons — or devils, as he calls them — are few in number during the early morning hours, so you made sure to leave with Aki just after dawn. By now, you likely have two or three hours at most, before the devils start appearing from their dens. 

You're already halfway along the river's trail. You should be able to finish searching, and you'll have plenty of time to head back to the cottage. You'll plan to collect some herbs and mushrooms on the way back. That way, locating Aki's belongings or not, this trip won't end up a total bust. 

You'll find his things though, hopefully. This side of the forest was where you placed your distraction rune. 

Aki has to walk a bit slower than you. Clearly, he's trying not to let the pain still left in his side show; he doesn't wince or falter much from the pace you've set. Although you don't mind, you aren't used to having to wait for someone else to catch up. You fall into a rhythm of skipping ahead, hopping over stones, and then stopping once you get a short way in front of him. Aki gives you an entertained look when you wait, turning back to glance at him. You decide to deliberately slow down to keep yourself at his side, and you try to ignore the heat you feel budding at the back of your neck. 

The sun's warmth is calming. It shines sparsely through the trees, evoking a heavy feeling in your veins when it hits your skin. If it wasn't for Aki walking so close beside you, you'd probably have fallen asleep standing up. You roll your shoulders backward, and stretch your arms to the sky. Then, you yawn, trying to blink away the fuzziness in your vision. To no avail, unfortunately. 

"Tired?" Aki pipes up. You hadn't noticed he was looking at you until his voice startled you awake. 

You rub your eyes, shrugging. "Kind of. But I'll be fine." 

If you instead were honest with him, with yourself, you are very tired. Your head feels weighed down by thick stones, as large and cumbersome as the ones in the river bed. Your limbs feel weaker and more sluggish than usual, as though they're actively working against you. Since Aki started staying in your cottage, you haven't slept well at all. Last night, you kept tossing and turning, thinking just to think some more. Your mind won't keep steady. 

You hate not knowing exactly what you're supposed to do. You hate that you can't figure him out, no matter how much you think or try to pry information from him. Your messy plan could go awry a thousand different ways because of a thousand different things and — 

Aki is still staring at you. Blinking, you turn away, hoping he didn't notice you zoning out. 

"You sure?" Aki asks, a brow raised. Okay, he totally noticed. "That's probably the fourth or fifth time you've yawned in the past five minutes. We can take a break, if you'd like. I wouldn't mind pushing our search back to tomorrow." 

"I'm okay, really," You scoff. You kick another pebble, and watch as it flies into the river, pushed by the current for a bit before it slowly sinks to the bottom. "Let's just hurry. The sooner we get out of here, the sooner we'll be safe from demons." 

For a couple of moments, you both fall into silence. The only sound to echo between you is your boots crunching the gravel. But still, Aki's gaze is on you: astute and sparkling. Even though you're staring at your shoes, you can clearly see him glancing at you from the corner of your eye, his mouth pressed into a focused line. He's pondering. Was it something you said? 

You didn't mess up, did you? 

Aki breathes a small hmm, and he calmly concludes, "You aren't familiar with devils, are you?" 

Suddenly, you're stopping in your tracks. Aki freezes beside you. His expression is unreadable as you turn to face him, giving him a particularly annoyed look. 

"What makes you say that?" You retort, hardly trying to hide the bit of harshness laced through your tone. You've been fighting the stupid creatures for almost your entire life, of course you're knowledgeable about them. Knowledgeable enough, at least. 

"Well, you call them demons," Aki replies, sounding indifferent. "Pretty sure my great grandparents were the last ones to call them that." 

"It's the same thing." You turn back to following the river, and continue walking while you speak. "I've survived out here for as long as I have, with demons lurking in every inch of this forest. And you think I know nothing of them?" 

Demons. You couldn't recall what your parents might've called them, or what those in the kingdom knew them as. During your earliest days in the forest, you remember summoning a book on, to quote the book's title: Formidable Demons and Magical Creatures. The book must have been centuries old. At the time, you didn't have enough experience to decipher it. You flipped through the pages and memorized the illustrations of "known demons", before tucking the tome away on your shelf, to be read at a later date. 

Damn. You have plenty of first-hand experience, but if most of your knowledge is sourced from some dusty old book you never actually wound up finishing, maybe he's right. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean it that way," He apologizes, speeding up a bit so he can continue walking beside you. "I'm not knocking how resourceful you are, it's impressive. Perhaps I should have worded it differently. You're familiar with devils, yes. But I think your perspective of them might be much different from mine." 

Your eyes narrow. Thinking, you cross your arms in front of you, and your gaze drifts back to the path ahead. 

"Okay, so," You start, your words a bit less assured this time, "I know demons- devils- come in multiple forms. They feed off of fear, they're always carnivores, and they can only be slain, they'll never die of old age. There. Promise you'll cut me some slack if I missed anything." 

"Don't worry," Aki hums, "That was perfect. Devils grow stronger in the presence of fear. I'm sure you already know as much. They become drawn to the fear people have for them, like a moth to firelight." 

When you find yourself absently glancing back towards Aki, your eyes wind up meeting his own. Holding his gaze feels soft, as though you're falling into clouds. You examine the distinct, pointed shape of his ears. His earrings shimmer once they catch the sunlight, and sway slightly with each of his steps. 

"Correct me if this isn't right, but I've heard demons love elves." Your brows form the slightest pinch. "Supposedly, their blood is ripe with magic." 

Aki laughs. "Those stories about elves are just tales. My blood is no more delicious than yours. And either way, even if it was true, I'd wager devils haven't done a very good job at making me their prey." 

"Makes sense. I guess those creatures don't care whose blood they're spilling, as long as they can get their fix of it." 

"What else do you think of them?" Aki asks, his head tilted slightly in your direction. "Of devils, I mean." 

You fall silent. Cautiously, carefully, you attempt to figure out what sort of answer Aki is wanting to hear. 

The oldest tales, just as old as the ones you once read about elves and kings and long-gone magical creatures, say devils were born jealous of humanity. They envied the magic humans were capable of using — and so, they sought to extinguish it. Your current understanding would tell you devils don't care for magic, or humanity, or jealousy. All they desire is destruction, for common folk and mages alike. 

The relationship between humanity and devils is reciprocal. Humans and elves are the only ones capable of destroying devils, but devils need people in order to grow stronger. Devils need their fear, their torment. Weaker devils will go after whatever they're capable of hunting, but intelligent devils know how to bend people to their advantage. They excel at manipulation. And as senseless as it might seem, devils do possess plenty of things humanity does not. 

You fiddle with the straps of your backpack, running your thumbs over the smooth leather and gold buckles. In response, you can only think to offer the most simple, obvious of statements. 

"I think anyone who chooses to make a deal with a devil is a fool." 

Aki goes quiet. Then, he grins, and breathes something of a half-laugh, half-sigh. The gentle sound does well to put you at ease. 

"Yeah," He replies, "Foolish, greedy, or desperate. Or perhaps all three. Careful-" 

Nearly tripping, you stop when he does. You almost walked right into a large log, where the river bends and breaks upon the mossy wood blocking its way. Aki briefly extends his hand out for you to take, but you hop over without his help, taking a large step over the log before returning your hands to your pockets. 

He's making that same endearing, pondering face again. 

"You've probably already heard this story, but," He begins, speaking while you both walk, "They say devils came into existence the day the elves cast their first spell. Mankind was impure. The Gods made devils our punishment for casting magic ripe with impurities. When elves first discovered healing spells, devils began to appear with the ability to heal themselves of any attack inflicted upon them. Humanity discovered fire magic. Then came devils with fire-drenched skin. Their bodies melted metal, and they scorched the ground they touched, leaving an ashen trail in their wake." 

You like the way Aki tells stories. He recounts them in such a deliberate way, as though he's reading directly from one of your fairytale books. This story is grim, and certainly one you've heard before. Yet, you can't stop the smile that begins to tug at your cheeks. 

"Mhmm. And then, the devils slaughtered everyone and left the world in ruin," You tease, glancing towards him playfully, your hands at your hips. "Do you enjoy scaring children with that old story?" 

"Occasionally. My version of it usually ends with humanity defeating the devils, though. You know, happy endings and such." 

"Right. A happy ending sounds nice. Don't want to scare them too much." 

Aki hums in agreement. "We could have one- a happy ending. That story isn't over yet." 

His story, or yours? 

You swallow, thickly and heavily. The trees above you whisper in the slight wind, and the river babbles, flowing steadily downstream. You try to keep your focus on the path ahead of you, instead of Aki walking beside you. 

"It's just a story," You assert. "Maybe magic was the source of demons a thousand odd years ago, but it hardly matters now." 

Aki's mouth forms the faintest pout, and he glances down at his shoes. "I'm sure it isn't much of a surprise, but I've never actually seen magic." 

"You probably never will," You answer, your voice turning somber, resolute. "People believe magic and mages to be dangerous. As long as they continue to think anyone capable of casting magic is a devil themselves, you won't even hear an utterance of the word." 

"Do you agree with them?" Aki asks flippantly, a brow raised. 

"Huh? What do you mean?" 

"Do you think mages are dangerous?" 

Out of everything he could have said, everything he could have possibly mentioned, why would Aki ask you such a question? 

Right then, you're sure your heart must have defied gravity and reason to drop directly into your throat. You nearly choke. Your spine prickles, unease running rampant through your system. You aren't sure how you manage to come up with any words in the first place, but somehow, you decide to talk without thinking. 

Your shoulders feel tense. "Obviously. Magic could be used to level a city, to mind control a king, to win any war. Or to start one, for that matter." 

Aki hums. For once, his smooth, persistently calm voice grows close to getting on your nerves. "It's difficult. Magic has already done so much harm, but it could do just as much good. When I think of mages, I just see… people. People who want to survive. They aren't monsters or devils." 

You stop in front of him, and he stops with you. Aki's head tilts slightly. As though he knows you want to speak, he's just waiting for it. 

"You know," You're starting, brows pinched, arms crossed, "Those sorts of statements could get you strung up for heresy." 

"Good thing we're far from the city then, right?" 

Nearly, in a hazy mix of confusion and exhaustion and fear and admiration, you almost form a rebuttal. Your arms drop to your sides, and your hands become clenched into fists. Your lips part slightly, to say something your mind hasn't quite decided on yet, just to close at the tightening of your jaw. He's messing with you. He must be. 

Mages aren't people — You aren't like him, you are fundamentally different. Surely, he knows what mages truly are as well as you do. You were born with a spark in your veins and a fire at your fingertips. Humanity, and perhaps the Gods themselves are afraid of you. No-one can stomach you but yourself. Aki is but a man; a foolish, stupid mortal. And you were promised a cage. 

Aki's gaze on yours appears to soften, his arms crossed loosely, his gaze flickering from the conflict on your face to your stiffened posture. Nervously rubbing your arm with your palm, you can't meet his eyes anymore; you can only look away. Your vision chooses to focus elsewhere, on anything but him. Fortunately, just beyond where Aki is standing in front of you, if you squint, you can spot something at the edge of the trees. A leather bag, partially torn open, resting in a patch of grass and tiny flowers. 

"Hey, is that your stuff?" 

Aki's eyes widen, before he turns to look in the direction you've started pointing towards. 

"Well, shit." 

— 

The scene surrounding where Aki's bag lay discarded is true to what he previously described to you. 

As you approach, and as Aki kneels down to gather his things, you glance around the area. You find his sword amongst the grass a foot or so away, steel separated from hilt, the blade tainted with dull blood-stains. The steel is chipped — from gradual wear or from a devil's fangs, you aren't quite sure. His bag is crumpled. A medium-sized hole has been torn into the side, certainly made from a devil's sharp teeth. For now, you slide your pack from your shoulders, and allow him to put his belongings inside. 

There's no gold in his backpack, nor could he find any in the grass surrounding it, of course. There is, however, some rations, a spare tunic, a quill pen, and a notebook — still in his bag, so thankfully, the pages were kept dry from the rain. 

Aki fussed over losing a jar of ink, but you assured him it wouldn't be a problem. It'd be best to head into the woods anyways, to find herbs for him and food for the both of you. Black Dragon flowers are common in this area, and when crushed up, they can be used to make ink. If either of you could find a few blossoms, you'd be glad to make some for him. 

"In return," You said, as Aki rose to his feet, matching your gaze with a curious one, "See if you can find me some wood. A few branches might've fallen during the storm. I need something thick and sturdy. About this," You gesture with your hands — "Big." 

"Ah." He dusts the dirt from his knees with his palms, and hands your pack back to you when you reach out for it. "For firewood?" 

"No, silly. We have plenty. It's for carving." 

Aki smiles, perhaps considering, or perhaps recalling the little sculptures made from wood that are strewn throughout the shelves in your cottage. "Right. Deal." 

With a plan now in mind, you crammed what remained of Aki's bag into your own pack — to use for scrap material — and you ventured through the trees, and into the forest. 

It's much easier to keep your mind from wandering with a task to occupy you. Gathering some mushrooms for eating and finding the flowers you mentioned doesn't take too long. Together, you and Aki head a short ways into the forest, staying careful to keep far from where the devils often make their dens. This area is relatively safe regardless, but it's still good to be on your guard. You let yourself forget about your previous conversations, while you quietly show Aki the difference between the herbs he needs and the fauna he shouldn't touch. 

You don't talk much, only a few words at most, until you're busy gathering the last of what you need. 

Aki comes over, a smooth piece of wood held in his hands. Rested on your knees, you grab the stems of a handful of herbs, and swiftly tug to pull their roots from the ground. You glance up at him as he leans down to hand the wood to you. The canopy of trees is much thicker here. Shadows dance across his face, his arms, his palms and his clothes — still dusted with dirt from searching through undergrowth with you. 

Hardly befitting of royalty, isn't it? Isn't he? 

You smile to yourself, and chase away the thought. 

"Will this do?" Aki asks, turning the piece of wood over, while he runs his fingertips along its rough surface. "It's the best I've found so far." 

"Mhmm, that's perfect. Thank you." You take it from him, and reach for your pack beside you, flipping it open to stuff the wood inside. There's little space left, but eventually, you're able to fit it carefully beside a few small pouches of mushrooms and herbs. 

Aki stands. He hesitates, before he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck with his palm. "This… might be a stupid question. But it's still okay that I'm staying with you, right?" 

"Of course it is- It's fine." You shrug, your focus kept on the foliage. With more carefulness, you gather a few of the thickest leaves. They'll be good for sealing his wound, for guiding it to fully heal. "Why? You want to leave that badly, huh?" 

Aki tucks his hands into his pants pockets. "I don't want to intrude. That's all." 

"I already told you, you're staying until you get better. No protests." Your tone seems to carry a familiar lilt of annoyance, but to his surprise, when you stuff a bundle of herbs into your pack and glance up at him once you're finished, your gaze is warm. You're donning the slightest, softest smile. 

"And just so you know," You mutter, glancing between him and your backpack as you snap it's buckle shut, "Your company isn't unpleasant." 

"Huh." Aki breathes a light-hearted huff. "Is that a compliment?" 

"Partially." 

Glancing away, looking towards the forest, he can't help but mimic your smile — shyly, almost. It's stupidly endearing. You hate how endearing he is. 

"Your company isn't unpleasant either. I mean-" He stammers, "It's nice. I enjoy talking with you. I was thinking, if you'd like, when we get back, I could-" 

Still staring into the trees just beyond you, Aki stops. An abrupt, nerve-wracking pause follows, long enough and silent enough to have your gaze flickering over him. His jaw is set. His eyes are wide, his face is slightly panicked. You swallow, freezing up. Slowly, without moving a muscle, you follow where Aki is looking — just in time to see the bushes a fair distance in front of you rustle. 

The trees sway, whispering dark promises as the wind picks up, a sharp breeze gliding over your bare skin. It's probably nothing. No, it's surely nothing. The chance of a demon- a devil- traveling all the way out to this side of the forest without outside influence is slim. You know this, and yet — 

You're fine. You have to convince yourself, you need to remember that no matter what, you're going to be perfectly fine. If it is a devil, the most important thing is to keep your cool. Level your head and breathe deeply, just as you've learned and practiced, like the books you read have instructed. In, and then out. You need to breathe. 

It's fine. It might not detect you if you're able to stay calm. Perhaps you're panicking for no reason. You're exhausted, you're seeing things. Your weary mind is playing cruel tricks on you. The longer your stare lingers on those thick, rustling bushes and shadow-filled trees, the more your breath sharpens, the stronger your heart begins to thump — Fuck, why can't you just stay calm? 

Stay calm, stay calm. This is stupid, you're acting stupid. There's nothing, there has to be nothing; no danger, no devil waiting to attack and tear the both of you in two. You won't need to defend yourself, you won't have to blow your cover. What if he already knows? With the way he brought up mages earlier, maybe he's going to run and leave you to be ambushed, maybe he planned this, maybe — 

A gentle palm is placed on your shoulder, and you practically jump out of your own skin. 

You whip around to look at the man you nearly forgot was even there; Aki eyes you with concern, never tearing his gaze from you as you scramble to unsteady feet. Standing close beside him, closer than you should be, you're focused on the forest again. Stress is present in your features, while an obvious shake lingers in your limbs. 

"Aki-" You mumble, speaking on the edge of an anxiety-ridden whisper, "We need- Shouldn't we-" 

"We're fine," Aki answers calmly, quietly. He reaches for your hand, and he grabs it softly. His palm brushes your knuckles. His fingers caress your skin as he squeezes faintly, and your heart pounds so hard it displaces your ribs. "Look." 

He points, and you allow your hazy vision to come back into focus. Through the trees, approaching cautiously while hopping among the shadows, you spot the thin legs, patterned coat, and small horns of a baby Great Elk. 

Aki hums, "I've never seen a baby one before." He murmurs low enough for only you to hear, in pleasant disbelief. "They never get this close. Sorry, are you-" 

Suddenly, as he is turning towards you, you're pushing away, and yanking your hand away from his. 

"I'm fine," You answer, taking a few steps back. At the sound of your voice, no longer hushed, the baby elk runs, scampering back into the trees. Aki watches uselessly as you retrieve your backpack and sling it over your shoulders. "Let's just go."

Your voice is unsteady. Your gaze is focused on your shoes. You clutch the front of your cape, the space closest to your heart, and you press one hand to the back of the other. Idly, your palm runs over the shape of your own knuckles, as your teeth nervously find your bottom lip. 

You understand what it feels like to let fire dance in your palms, to have spell-spawned sparks flickering underneath your skin. This is far worse. The hand Aki touched feels as though it's burning. 

"I'm sorry," He murmurs, "For a second, I really thought it was-" 

"I said, let's go." 

You're already turning, walking in a direction he'd never recall if you left him to be lost out here, and so Aki has no choice but to follow. 

He sighs defeatedly. "Okay. That's alright. We can go." 

As you and Aki walk back to your cottage, you make your way there with the most distance that's ever been between you. 

— 

"Hold still." 

"Shit- Sorry. I'm trying." 

Aki flinches as you carefully press a cool, damp cloth to his side. Squinting, using the dim light from the fireplace and the flickering candles to illuminate your task, you focus on cleaning what remains of his wound. 

These past few days, although still a bit sore, it hasn't been bleeding much. What was once a large, gnarled gash has healed into a faint, red scrape. It probably won't leave much of a scar after all. He has your medicine to thank for his quick recovery. You weren't sure how the wound might fare after he spent the day traveling through the forest with you, but aside from a hint of discomfort, he seems relatively healthy. Still energized, even. After setting the rag aside, you grab a handful of fresh bandages, which you made from the scraps of his old, stained tunic. 

"It's healed well," You comment plainly. You and Aki are sitting on the wooden floor, cross-legged, close to the fireplace. Close in proximity. The persistent heat of the fire flutters across your arms and your back, chasing away the cool night air. 

Reaching into a wooden bowl, you use two fingers to smear a thick herbal mixture onto the inside of the bandages. Then, you swiftly begin to wrap them around his bare torso, taking note of the way his muscles flex. 

You breathe a low, inquisitive hum. "Still seems tender, though." 

"It is. A bit." Aki supports his weight with his palms, leaning back to give you more room. Firelight curves over his chest, his shoulders, his collarbones. "But I'm doing alright, thanks to you. I'm sure I'll be fully healed soon." 

And soon, he'll be leaving. 

You try not to think about it as you focus on the precise movements of your hands. There's far too many stressful things you still need to mull over, and now isn't the time. 

Wrapping his bandages is a careful, but quick process; at this point, you're used to it. Aki keeps as motionless as he can manage while you tie the bandages off to keep them in place. You collect the wooden bowl in one hand, before promptly rising to your feet. He watches you snatch his spare tunic from where it hangs over the edge of his cot. He catches it once you toss it at him. 

"I'm going to make dinner," You remark, "Stew probably, same as last time." Already, you're turning on your heels, heading into the kitchen. You set the wooden bowl aside, and Aki scrambles to pull his shirt over his head. 

"Wait-"

He's rushing to come stand beside you, still straightening his tunic and fitting his arms through the sleeves, while you're plopping your backpack onto the counter. Aki reaches back, fixing his hair and pulling it from beneath his neckline. Busy focusing on opening your backpack, you give him a raised brow, a perplexed side-glance. 

"Let's make it together," Aki says — and with how ridiculous his preposition sounds, with how unheard of it is to you, you can't help but laugh. 

"That isn't necessary." You shrug, and turn back to your bag. You root around inside for a moment, before you find a small leather pouch, containing several bonnet-shaped mushrooms. 

"I know," Aki replies; he's already reaching into your cupboards, wasting no time finding a couple of bowls and a cutting board. His mind has been made, apparently. "I want to make it with you, though. Can you teach me?" 

Your eyes narrow. Your hands are shuddery as you pull the pouch open, briefly counting the mushrooms inside. Inevitably, you breathe a heavy sigh, your shoulders slumping from the weight of it. Aki sets the cutting board down, his gaze flickering over you, and you dump the mushrooms out onto the counter in front of him. 

"Chop these up into small pieces. Knives are in the drawer to your right." 

He doesn't need to be told twice. 

Silence falls upon the kitchen as you and Aki prepare dinner together, side by side. His knife — your knife — echoes rhythmically against the wooden cutting board as he carefully chops mushroom after mushroom. You grind herbs to use for seasoning with a mortar and pestle. The fireplace crackles, and your foot taps against the floor just slightly. Too slight for him to hear, and not enough to calm your nerves. 

Any slight lull makes you think too much. About devils, about the kingdom. About him, and what you're going to do once he's gone. At the very least, this silence is much more comfortable, compared to the prickling stillness that befell the both of you on the way back to your cottage. You're grateful you haven't yet ruined things. 

Since then, you've barely managed to regain the faintest sliver of your composure. Your heart isn't pounding anymore, thankfully, despite how close the two of you need to stand to work together in the kitchen. You designed your space for one, not for two. The stove is in the middle of the counter, and in order to reach to dump ingredients into a pot, you need to lean so close to him your arms nearly touch. 

Instead, your heart aches, twisting and pulling at your chest, sending blood rushing to your fragile hands and making them shake each time you remember the way Aki touched you. He grabbed your right hand. It still feels warm, in a way. Haunted by a touch softer than a flower's thin petals. Your mind swims, your grip on the pestle faltering slightly. 

Gods, you're ridiculous. A more composed version of yourself would surely be scolding you right now. 

First, you let a man you hardly know into your cottage, a man who happened to be royalty, of all things. Then, you panic over nothing, getting all freaked out over a harmless baby elk. Now, you're allowing yourself to nearly lose your damned mind over such a small, inconsequential, useless touch. Over Aki's touch. 

Aki, who's life exists in a universe far removed from your own. Who is going to leave, who has a few days left before he will have to forget about you. You really, seriously need to get a grip. 

"I'm sorry," You mutter, breaking the silence, your voice barely loud enough to be heard. Aki stops though, glancing in your direction, making it clear that he did notice. "Normally I wouldn't get scared like that. You know, when we were in the forest. I just- I'm stressed, that's all. Or tense, I guess. And exhausted." 

"I knew you were still thinking about what happened earlier," Aki concludes, reading you correctly. He scoops a handful of chopped mushrooms into his palms, and places them into the already-boiling pot on the stove. "There's no need to apologize. I must have startled you. I was… scared too, for a moment." 

Aki's knife swiftly hits the cutting board as he cuts the rest of the mushrooms, and you prop your head on your palm, your fingers drumming against the counter. 

He's only partially paying attention to the task at hand. His eyes continuously and not-so-subtly keep drifting away from the cutting board, and back to you. You really wish he wouldn't. Your heart is already beginning to skip again; you don't need it running and tripping over itself while you're trying to thinly cut up some parsley. 

"You're going to chop your finger off." 

Aki stops at your words. Your gaze is focused on your bundle of parsley and scissors, but he still looks towards you anyways, breathing a slight, playful laugh. He elegantly twirls his knife in a circle before returning it to the cutting board — only this time, he makes sure to watch what he's doing. 

"I cooked for my family a few times when I was a kid," He starts, chopping a mushroom carefully and slowly. "That was ages ago, though. I think I forgot everything I once learned." 

You still remember your mother's cooking lessons like she taught them to you yesterday. Keep your knives sharp. Watch the stove, try not to use too much firewood. You can add, but you can never subtract. Were those moments the last time you shared the kitchen with someone else? 

It's a bit difficult to get used to. You keep expecting to have more work, you still feel surprised when you turn to see someone standing next to you. But it feels calming. A crisp, fluttering feeling you can't quite put your finger on — not that you want to, you'd rather not face it. You've decided it's nice to make dinner with him, simply sharing your space, even though you aren't doing anything too special. For the first time in what might be forever, you aren't alone. 

Perhaps you should be savoring this. 

"I did too," You reply, pausing the movement of your scissors for a moment. "But when I was a kid, I hated cooking. I cut my hand once, the first time I tried to peel potatoes. My mom bandaged me up. From there on out, I would cry every time she asked me to cook with her." 

Aki breathes a slight hmm, and he reasons, "You were scared of getting hurt again." 

"I suppose so." 

"Did you ever end up cooking with her?" 

"No. I remember some of what she tried to teach me, but… I mostly taught myself," You answer, briefly hesitating. "This is the first time I've tried to cook with someone else since then, I think. I like it. I like your company." 

Too honest, perhaps. Your mother might have told you to keep on your toes in this situation, to avoid giving away too much information. But your heart is already beating fast, and the words have already left you before you've thought about them. 

Aki glances at you, your gaze staying focused on your hands, on your work. You seem lost in thought. He finds it difficult to read the blank expression on your face. 

"I understand. I think I get how you feel, honestly." His voice is smooth, calm. Drifting through you, until it sparks within your chest like a brand new star. "My mother never got the chance to teach me much. She was busy working, or busy tending to my younger brother." 

"Your mom," You answer quietly, "Do you miss her?" 

"Yeah. And you?" 

Your jaw tenses, your teeth uncomfortably grinding together. You place the parsley into the pot, and dust your palms over the counter. "Of course. You always miss the family you've lost." 

He's long since finished chopping up the remainder of mushrooms, but Aki's grip tightens on the knife, and he idly taps the tip of the blade against the firm cutting board. He hums a slight mhmm in agreement. 

"My mother always said cooking was one of the most important skills one could learn," Aki continues. "I thought she'd have more time to teach me. She would tell me, 'You need to be prepared if you go off on your own, you won't always like what other people make for you.' Something like that. I'm not sure I believed her, at first." 

"Uh-huh," You raise a brow. "And then you were forced to eat river snails." 

Oh. Realizing your change in tone only after the fact, you look at him immediately, your nerves prickling, your skin heating up with embarrassment. Truthfully, you haven't had much practice with conversations; Aki is the first. You've said more to him in the past few days than you think you ever have. 

Perhaps you should've thought more before you spoke. It's one thing to say something you might regret, it's another to raise tensions with him. He was serious, and you just made some stupid joke that sounded flat enough to be a rude comment — 

But Aki smirks, he laughs wholeheartedly; the sound rings through you, tender and burning. You feel a reassuring wave travel all the way down your spine. 

"Okay, I think I would've had to try those regardless," He hums, exhaling another amused huff of breath. He drops the rest of the mushrooms into the stove pot, and with nothing else to do but wait for the stew to be ready, he swiftly reaches for a rag, and begins wiping down the cutting board. 

"They were supposed to make you heal faster, or not get sick- or something, I'm not sure," He continues, "They never actually did anything. Trust me, if I was cooking for myself, I wouldn't have opted to include those." 

"At least you tried them," You reply, shrugging. "Now you've got a good story to tell. Besides, there's plenty of things that might look awful even though they taste pretty good." 

"Truffles," Aki says through a groan, "Gods, how I refused to eat those. It drove my parents up a wall." 

"What's that?" 

Propping your head up with your arm once more, you glance at him, diligently looking at him up and down, giving him all of your attention. Aki smiles, and he sets down what he's holding to turn towards you fully. Matching your gaze, he rests his elbow on the edge of the counter. 

"They're these shitty little black mushrooms," He says straightforwardly, and you can't help but chuckle. "Apparently, they're hard to find, so… my parents would be furious with me for wasting them. My dad, he was the one who taught us to be frugal. He made me try this chocolate. Super fancy, expensive chocolate. It was similar to the mushrooms, and my dad decided to tell me they were the same. He said, 'You know those are truffles, the mushrooms you hate, right?'"

Aki lets go of a small, breathy laugh, and he glances away as he recalls the rest of his story. "It wasn't. They're only called the same thing, but they're completely different- the chocolate, and the mushrooms. He got me to try some the next time we had them, though." 

"Hm," You reply, "Did you like them?"

"Nope. I didn't finish my first bite, I spat it out." 

Smirking, your gaze meets his own expectantly. "Your dad was probably mad, then." 

"Definitely. But I was expecting chocolate. Those mushrooms are good, but you're supposed to savor them. They are the complete opposite of sweet." 

"What's chocolate?" Your eyes squint as you think, trying to remember if the name is something you've heard before. In a book, maybe. It certainly sounds familiar. "Is that a mushroom too?" 

Aki stares at you, surprised. "You've never had chocolate?" 

"Nope." 

"It's- damn." His hand comes to hold his chin, his brows pinch with faint frustration. "It's sort of difficult to describe. It's sweet. It melts in your mouth, if that makes sense. There's a lot of vendors who sell chocolate in the kingdom. When we get there, I'll buy you some." 

Suddenly, as he seems to catch himself, Aki clears his throat. He stutters and glances away, "Er- if you wanted to go with me, that is. There's no need to make any decisions right now. It was just a suggestion." 

The room grows silent. Aki's gaze flickers to check on the stove, before traveling back to you. To your eyes, to your mouth. When your gazes meet again, you find it impossible to look away, despite how much your quivering heart desperately begs you to. 

Finally, you look down at your hands, and mumble hesitantly, "You'll be leaving soon." You press your thumbs together, nervously fiddling. "Right?" 

"That depends," Aki answers, "When do you think I'll be healed enough?" 

"Soon. Probably within the next few days, at the earliest. Your wound looks fine. You should keep resting, once you're feeling energized and no longer sore, then…" 

You trail off, unable to finish your sentence. Aki doesn't fail to notice how you're no longer looking at him, your voice becoming uncertain and much quieter. 

Aki takes a deep, long breath, and he speaks calmly, gently. "Whenever you tell me you're ready, I'll leave. There's no pressure to come with me, and I won't force you to make a decision. I don't have any problems with leaving alone. I'll be alright, you won't have to worry about me. Please, don't forget that." 

It should be fine, to let him leave alone. You'll follow your original plan. The next time he's asleep, you'll prepare the potion to alter his memory; you could have it done by tonight, easily. If he follows your directions, he shouldn't have a problem with making his way out of the forest safely. As foolish as he is, Aki is resourceful. He wouldn't let himself get caught out again. This is what should happen, to keep the both of you safe, and apart. 

So why do you feel so hurt? 

For longer than necessary, you're silent. In the corner of your vision, you catch the way Aki peers at you worriedly. 

"Are you alright?" He asks, his words taking you a bit off guard. 

Reflexively, you nod — but oh, how he is making this so much harder. You're fine, you were fine, until you heard his soft voice check up on you. Now, you feel like a dam on the edge of bursting. He noticed, of course he would notice. You're standing close enough for him to see your little tremors, for him to hear when your breath starts to hitch. You had made up your mind about your future long before you met him, but Aki had to go and change it all. 

Perhaps you hadn't realized how much it truly hurt until he'd spoken. Those are words you haven't heard before, you've never felt a sensation so suffocating. Your throat is dry, your heart is encased in thorns — but you're alright. You have to be. You have to tell him you're fine. 

"I'm alright," You answer quickly with a swallow, leaving it at that. 

"You sure? Your hands-" Aki murmurs, his gaze flickering down to them, and then back up. "You were doing that earlier." 

Ah. You were, and you are. Both of your hands have moved to timidly clutch the front of your cape, your thumb running over the grooves on the shiny front button. 

Sighing, you forcibly let your arms fall. You still can't look at him, so instead, you keep your focus on the dirty ends of your shoes. "I promise, I'm fine." 

You're sure you don't sound very convincing. 

The pot on the stove bubbles, the stove top's low, orange flame flickering faintly. Aki stays silent, considering his next words carefully. 

"You still don't trust me," He decides, his voice quiet and assured. It's a statement more than anything; he knows you do not trust him. He knows it's a fact he cannot change. "But if there's anything- something I did, or something you want to tell me, you can. I'll listen." 

As if you could ever tell him. 

It'd be foolish to let him see this different side to you, regardless of how much you already trust him — more than he realizes, clearly. More than logic and everything you've learned should dictate. Unfortunately, you can no longer keep your thoughts quiet. You've got a battle raging within you, and those aching waves of stress are pulling, pushing, and growing closer and closer to drowning you underneath. 

Aki can't stay. You shouldn't even entertain the thought; what the hell are you thinking? Aki is a stranger, he's dangerous. If he truly is royalty, you could be punished for ever thinking you were allowed to look at him, let alone speak to him. 

The kingdom isn't as far as you'd prefer it to be. His wound is healing. You are helping him get back on his feet. You're guiding him closer to leaving, little by little. 

Deep in your foolish, pounding heart, you want to believe Aki would trust you as much as you want to trust him, regardless of your best-kept secret. Yet, if anyone questioned him upon his return, if he was at all seen as suspicious, they could find out about you. His intentions wouldn't matter then. Protecting you or even himself wouldn't be an option. There's only so much he can do to bend the rules around witches. Royalty or otherwise. 

You hate this. You hate that Aki could discover the truth at any moment. He could look at you differently, with less kindness and more revulsion, once he realizes he's supposed to hate you. He is fucking supposed to, to hell with thinking mages are people, those words can't be trusted, he isn't meant to be trusted. With how distracted you've been, he could kill you, if he truly wanted to. But would he? 

The pit of your stomach swirls with a shadowy sense of dread and anxiety. You hate how you've become closer to him, you hate yourself for letting your guard down, even though you swore you wouldn't. Above all else, you hate how these sharp, never-ending feelings are becoming far too much. 

It hurts. There's a hundred thoughts gnawing at your mind, a thousand rapid beats of your heart to keep track of, and a million pins and needles under your skin, running up along your spine with a painful, oppressive intensity. 

You're worried. You're scared, scared of what will happen, scared of him, and everything. Scared of losing him, as awful as it sounds. Your cottage would become so lonely. You would fall into suffocating silence once more. Aki is different from the men you met before, from the people you've learned to fear. He is someone worth keeping. 

Each sensation — the stress, the longing — pushes at either side of you like two stone walls closing in. Closing and crushing and swallowing you; your hands are trembling, and Gods, you're exhausted. When was the last time you slept properly? Was your mind ever working as it should be to begin with? 

And why can you never seem to stop thinking about what it felt like to have your hand in his? 

In the end, it doesn't matter. 

None of it matters, your attempts to hang onto yourself and your wavering composure are rendered useless. He blends out of your focus as the world grows blurry around you. You grip the front of your cape tighter, your shoulders tensing before they tremor. Your breath is short, your throat feels tight, and your thoughts are fatigued like a string pulled taut. Fragile tears are beginning to fall down your cheeks, and you can do nothing to stop them. 

Aki freezes up completely, eyes wide, gaze locked on you. 

"Sorry," You're babbling, shaking your head, willing the tears to stop — although you know they most certainly won't. Your chest aches, your throat hurts. Small droplets fall from your face to hit your fingers and knuckles. You're so stupid, so weak. "I just- I don't want to-" 

Without an ounce of hesitation, Aki shifts closer. He's slow when he reaches out to you, giving you plenty of time to move away if you'd prefer to. You don't. Glancing down at you, his warm palm finds your cheek, his touch slight and delicate, as though he's still expecting you to flinch away. Carefully, his thumb swipes underneath your eye to catch a tear before it falls. His touch caresses you softly, far too softly. And finally, you break. 

He could hurt you, he could destroy you if he knew what you truly were. Instead, the fear all melts away, because he chooses to be gentle. 

Your shaking hands hold onto your cape as tight as you can manage, while your tears turn into hard sobs that shake your entire figure, and make his heart want to splinter and shatter. Aki mumbles something low under his breath, words you barely catch despite how close you both are: an earnest mixture of shh, and it's okay. 

In this moment, you have never been weaker. Not since the day you first left the kingdom behind you, and began to cry, when you believed you were meant to be alone. It's been years of isolation, since then. Is it so wrong for you to know you have needed this? 

For once, leaning into his touch feels right; it doesn't burn, it isn't nerve-wracking. It's everything you've ever needed — it is so much more as you press your hand to the back of his, keeping him in place so he won't pull away. You focus on the warmth of his touch, tenderness surging all around you, your heart pounding to a fierce, unsteady rhythm. 

It could be wrong, it could be reckless, to believe this is the safest you've ever felt. To know that if you were to pull him close like you've been wanting, you might not be able to let go. You want to embrace him, to have someone hold you, after ages and ages of feeling nothing against your skin and at your back but the whispering wind. 

Aki's arms around you would be far too overwhelming — to have him hold you tight while you breathe in the scent of firewood on his clothes, and listen to each beat of his heart, your head pressed to his chest. No, you wouldn't let go, not until you've memorized the sound. The thought alone could bring you to tears, if you weren't already breaking down in front of him, sniffling and holding onto your cape with a grip tight enough to make your fingers ache. 

"I scared you earlier, didn't I?" Aki says, his voice low, as calming as it always is. His breathing is slow, and yours tries to calm down to match. "I'm sorry." 

Maybe he did, but you've already forgiven him. Aki can't know the true reason why you're crying, or any of the multitude of built-up reasons. They'd be impossible to say, far too difficult to talk about. You can't tell him you might miss him if he leaves you behind, even though it's what you planned to let happen in the first place. Even though someone like you has no right to want to follow someone like him. To the kingdom, no less. You'd be shunned. Imprisoned. Or much, much worse. 

Aki is kind and thoughtful, his presence alone makes you want more — your tides pulled in his direction, an ocean of uncertainty reaching up to a bright, brilliant, unreachable moon. His touch is warm light, shining through thick darkness. Your darkness, illuminated wholeheartedly. 

"You're safe," He murmurs. His voice barely registers. "I wouldn't let anything hurt you." 

He couldn't, he has no idea you're a terrible, filthy liar. Aki is a good man. He reminds you of those knights in your stories — unwaveringly good, no matter the danger they're presented with. And you? You are nothing more than a witch. 

Thankfully, Aki doesn't need to know. 

He doesn't have questions, he simply continues to brush his thumb over your cheek, tenderly and rhythmically. His touch is slight, overly gentle in an attempt to keep you comfortable, but it's more than enough to gradually help you relax. You can't recall the last time you cried like this. Nor the last time you let anyone touch you, you never planned to allow this. You can't become overtaken by emotion, holding your focus is much more important. Perhaps you needed a way to finally let go of your budding stress. 

Aki seems to think so. He holds your face in his palm as you cry, never pulling away, grounding you with his presence. Ever-so patient, he stays, while you fully succumb to everything washing over you. Until the waves slowly subside, allowing you to breathe again. Your sobs begin to calm, your tears start to dry up. Your whole body tremors as you breathe a long, shaky sigh. 

Still, he keeps his pretty palm on your cheek. It belongs there, you think. 

"How are you feeling?" Aki says softly, after a few beats of silence. "Mad? Upset?" 

At first, you don't answer. You try, although you know it's futile; your mouth opens, but your voice is weak, your throat is sore. No words come out. You're feeling a thousand things, even if you could voice them, you aren't sure where you'd start. You swallow, and to your disappointment, Aki takes his palm away from your cheek, abruptly reaching for something. 

In a rush, he hurries to turn off the stove, swearing quietly under his breath. You hadn't realized how much time had passed — how long have you been crying? Long enough to make your nose stuffed and your throat sore, and enough to let the stew boil over, evidently. 

Aki leaves it, for now. He reaches over you to grab your backpack, briefly putting your bodies unbelievably close. He roots around inside until he finds your flask, still half-full with fresh water, and he sets it on the counter, allowing you to move at your own pace. You sniffle, and wipe your eyes with the back of your hand first, before you grab it, unscrewing the cap, taking a few sips. 

You want to tell him. You want to feel his soft touch again, you want his words of reassurance, and his trust, and his kindness. How could you fear him, when Aki is tenderness incarnate? As soft as the sky, as earnest as an echo. And as necessary as it is, you're already sick of lying; you don't want to hear his voice, look him in the eyes, and know you are lying to him. 

Though, you can't say a thing. Your voice is weak, your body and mind are exhausted. And so, this time, you resist. 

Aki breaks the silence first. "You're allowed to be mad at me. I wouldn't blame you if you were." 

"I'm not mad," You answer, screwing the cap back on the flask, setting it down on the counter right where it was. You aren't meeting his eyes, but your voice sounds clearer, less strained. "I'm okay. Just tired." 

Your shoulders shrug weakly. Aki's next breath seems to shake, his arms crossing around his chest frustratedly, his gaze traveling down. 

"I shouldn't-" His jaw clenches, before he lets go of an exasperated sigh. "A devil wouldn't have snuck up on us like that. We would've known- they aren't small, and they make much more noise when they're approaching. I shouldn't have worried you. If you think I should… head for the kingdom, I will. I could leave tonight." 

Your throat feels dry again. "It's fine." 

"No," Aki counters, his voice wavering; it never wavers, "This is my fault. To see you hurting so much, when I know that I- maybe I just-" 

"Aki." 

You glance up at him, and your abrupt utterance of his name forces him to meet your gaze. Your eyes are still red, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion, your cheeks damp from tears. Your expression is earnest, hiding a thousand emotions he couldn't begin to make sense of. But he wants to try. 

"Don't go," You murmur, softer this time. Close to breaking once more. "I've already forgiven you. Thank you. For being here." 

For showing you a kindness you aren't used to, for comforting you without asking questions. For finally making you realize that you aren't meant to be alone. You want to say his name a thousand times more. 

Honestly, you aren't sure what Aki takes away from your words. He seems to hesitate, but after a moment of thought, he reaches for the bowls he'd grabbed for the two of you earlier. One for you, and one for him. 

"You should get some sleep after we eat," He suggests, his tone nice and gentle, laced with concern. He places your bowl in front of you, on your side of the counter. 

"Mhmm…" You nod in agreement, and search through a drawer on your left to find a wooden ladle. "My head hurts." 

Completely serious, Aki replies, "Do you want me to stop talking?" 

Genuine and soft, you break into a laugh — a sound he is more than glad to hear — and you smile to yourself, while you pour some stew into your bowl. It warms your palms, steam brushing against your face. When you pass the ladle to him, he's instantly caught on the faint sparkle in your gaze. Hook, line, and sinker. 

"Absolutely not." You hum playfully, an eyebrow crooked. "It would be far too quiet. Besides, I like your voice." 

Aki fills his own bowl, and with the warm, pleased look that encompasses his features, you swear he almost seems flustered. "I hope you aren't implying I talk too much." 

"Nope. If anything, it's not enough." 

You reach into a drawer to grab silverware, and Aki heads over to the dinner table. He's already sat down across from your usual seat, and once you're able to follow, you notice your chair has been pulled out for you. 

Your conversations lull as the two of you eat together, once again enjoying the simple comfort of company. The warm stew soothes your throat. It has your body and your limbs relaxing, calming. You exchange a few words. Aki compliments your cooking, and you politely thank him for his help. You comment how you rarely see baby elk, they're normally so skittish. It was cute. It would be nice to see again, under different circumstances. 

Everything returns to normality. The same way it always was, when words shared between him and yourself become as natural as breathing. Once again, it feels right. 

The next time you speak, it's after you've stood and both rinsed your bowls, just before you're about to head into your bedroom. 

Aki clears his throat. He sits on the edge of his cot, his hands placed uniformly in his lap, the fireplace's low flame flickering over the sharp angles of his face. 

"Do you really want me to stay?" He asks, as he already has. Perhaps he's expecting the answer to change. 

You consider, drumming your fingertips over your bedroom's door handle. Then, at last, you answer. "Is it so wrong if I do?" 

"It isn't. I was thinking, actually, I… I don't think it's a good idea for me to leave," He says, glancing at you. "My wound is- it could reopen. It'd be better not to take any risks, to rest for another week or so. Or maybe two weeks. Or- I don't know. We'll see." His next words are entirely unsure, a shot in the dark, a question and a plea wrapped into one: "What do you think?" 

As one would expect, he'd leave it all up to you. 

Your hand grips the door knob tighter. You take a slow, gradual breath, and hope he doesn't notice your newfound reassurance. 

He isn't leaving. Not yet. Thank the Gods. 

"Of course," You murmur, without turning to look at him. He'd see the small smile on your face if you did. "You can stay." 

[honey-writes-sometimes]

Random romance headcanons for the Lin Kuei Brothers

what do they search on a partner, how are dates with them, that sort of stuff

I tried to make this headcanons as accurate to what i think these characters would do canonlly

(I accidentally posted my draft but now i finished it, still learning how to write and use tumblr)

Kuai Liang/Scorpion

>Kuai Liang is an honourable grandmaster, he puts humbleness and passion over other traits. he is looking for someone with honour, kind and selfless, with the will to complete their goals, without sacrificing anyone in the process

>he prefers a peaceful person, one that he can spend quiet and tranquil nights with, he is a quiet person himself, he loves soft and peaceful chats, your voice calms him down and talking to you is the perfect way for him to distress

>he doesn't mind if you are in the Shirai Ryu or not, but he will consider you as a valuable ally to his clan, a loyal and truthful counselor, but it will sweep him off his feet if you decide to help him and the Shirai Ryu with their goals

>dates with him are difficult to have, he is the grandmaster of the Shirai Ryu, he often goes on missions or stays up late doing tasks or errands for the clan, training his initiates and ninjas too, Kuai Liang has little time for himself, but when he does he spends it with you, most likely in bed talking and staying up late playing with your hair, he loves late night talks with you, it soothing and comforting for him

>as for gifts, he will gift you meaningful things, he can gift you flowers or beautiful jewelry with gemstones and every single one has their own meaning, if he misses you he will send you forget-me-nots which means that he doesn't want you to forget about him or if he comes back to you after a long mission he will bring lilies of the valley with him, because it means the return of his happiness. he uses his gifts to communicate his feelings

>Kuai Liang is not really a jealous man, he acknowledges his negative feelings and doesn't let them get in his head, he is not one to do any sudden act or dramatic scene out of jealousy, he will talk to you about his feelings, try and make you understand why he feels the way he does, i picture him as the most emotionally mature out of his brothers

>he doesn't like PDA, he is a grandmaster and tries to maintain a honourable and diplomatic image, not that his love for you is not honourable its just he doesn't want others to see him being vulnerable to you, his vulnerability is a side of him that only his loved ones know of, specially you, and he likes to keep it that way, he secretly loves the fact that only you can tear down all his walls and see him when he is most vulnerable

>he makes it up to you when you finally get time alone, he will hold you tight and whispers sweet words in you ears, he will kiss your jawline and temple between his words, and so sweetly too, he will reassure any doubt you have, comfort your feelings, ease down your anxiety, to wash down any negative feeling you feel, he doesn't mind being the one to hold you or comfort you, he feels happy to be the one to spoil you

>a relationship with Kuai Liang its something that keeps you yearning for him, to have more time with him, he is so close and yet out of reach because of his duties as a grandmaster, but he does his best to return home safe to you,

Bi-Han/Sub-Zero

>Bi-Han is a disciplined, cold and ambitious person, he doesn't mind making sacrifices to accomplish his goals. he wants a person that is decisive and disciplined like him by his side

>he wants a partner that is decisive, confident and determinated. a person that is fully capable of giving orders, he wants a partner that will join and lead the Lin Kuei alongside him, like his father and mother did. to him having a partner means working in a team to accomplish both your goals

>he wants you to join the Lin Kuei, he thinks if you are going to dedicate and expend the rest of your life with him you'll need to become a member of the Lin Kuei, it means that you are dedicated and loyal to him, alongside his goals and aspirations, he sees it as a sign of not only respect but devotion and love aswell

>if dates with Kuai Liang are rare, is even worse with Bi-Han, he is as busy as Kuai Liang if not more, he is busy even late at night, he comes to bed in midnight, if you fall asleep before his arrival, he will prepare himself for bed and cuddle with you, even if he won't admit it he loves having you close, its his way of apologizing for having little time for you. if you stay awake to wait for him it would make his cold heart flutter but he will scold you, saying that your need for proper rest comes before him, and you shouldn't sacrifice it for him

>Bi-Han is not much of giving you gifts out of emotions, but out of necessity and need, he will keep an eye on you, do you need hygiene products? Health care products? Skin care products? He has you covered, he will sent his men to bring you everything you need, or what you say you need, he demonstrates his love by taking care of your necessities

>Bi-Han is not a jealous man either but he is protective, overprotective even, if Sektor or any other Lin Kuei tries to convince you to participate in the Cyber Lin Kuei project Bi-Han will tell cut them off immediately, and coldly scold them, he doesn't want you to be involved in overly dangerous Lin Kuei business. you will rule by his side, aid him, share victories and glory with him, but he will never let you make the same sacrifices he or other Lin Kuei members do, you are too important to him to let you

>no PDA, like never, he hates being vulnerable in general terms but more so in public, he wants to keep a cold and intimidating exterior, he is the grandmaster of the Lin Kuei, and he wants others to respect him, being it out of fear or admiration, he doesn't want others to see that you are his soft spot either, he fears people may use you against him

>even when you are alone, it is difficult for Bi-Han to let down his walls and fall apart in your arms, sience he was little he thought feelings like vulnerability made him weak, so he pushed these feelings aside, he thought it was the best for him, but thankfully he is slowly healing from that, you are making him heal, teaching him to be vulnerable to you, because you will never take advantage of him in this state

>being in a relationship with Bi-Han is rather hard, like with Kuai Liang being grandmaster has its duties, and they are heavy, plus his trauma doesn't help eiter, but if you manage to see pass and help him heal, step by step he will finally let you see that he is actually very devoted to you, he will do anything for you, he will kill for you if you needed, he would bring the world on their knees for you if you asked him to, he doesn't mind sacrificing anything or anyone to make you happy, because you make his cold heart beat with passion again

Tomas Vrbada/Smoke

>Tomas is one of the most kindest soul out of the mortal kombat characters, he emerged of his tragedies as a genuine and caring person. he is looking for someone as kind as him, he doesn't like petty, rude or troublesome people

>he is attracted to kindness, compassion, humbleness and anything between those lines, he doesn't mind if you are loud or quiet, shy or confident, introverted or extrovert, as long as your actions are good and honourable ones and you treat people right

>don't ever expect expensive gifts or dates from him, he is a humble person, he belives love relies on thought itself, he can bring you a couple of flowers he picked off the ground because they reminded him of you or just write you a letter of how he feels about you, even if his gifts are small he gives them to you with all his heart

>like his brothers, he doesn't have that much time with all the tasks he has because of the Shirai Ryu, training his initiates or going on missions, but he always tries to make time for you, and when he does he prefers dates at home or places where there is little to no people, he also prefers when you two make the food together, so cooking with you or going to picnics with you are his favourite type of dates, he also loves stargazing with you

>Tomas is not a jealous person most of the time, he often tries to ignore the feeling, but if it affects him too much he would get self-conscious and insecure, probably trying to avoid you while he cleans his thoughts, he thinks his jealousy is immature of his part, you need to reassure him and validate his feelings because no one ever really did that for him

>he is not big on PDA, does more than his brothers thought, he can hold your hand, hug you or compliment you in public, but nothing pass that. he doesn't like when people see you two being so vulnerable and loving, the love you two feel are just for you both, no one else. he also doesn't like the idea of other gossiping about your demonstrations of affection, he thinks it will give you trouble and he doesn't want to be a burden to you at all

>when you are alone he would show you how much he loves you, satisfy your needs, spoil you, and will do what he can to accomplish every desire you have, but with one condition, you must do the same for him. he is not the type to be happy with only giving or only receiving, you both should give and receive love equally, so spoil him with love too, he can get quite needy and eager for you love, he loves when you spoil eachother rotten

>a relationship with Tomas is a slow burn type of love, not rushed, he wants to experience your relationship at your own pace, step by step, he will kiss you for the first time or sleep with you for the first time when he feels that you are both ready to take that step on your relationship, even if he is ready and eager to try new things with you, he won't tell until he feels you are ready too, he will always wait for you it doesn't matter how much time, he will wait an eternity for you, if it meant he finally gets to be yours

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

☠️ Something Dread, Something Red: Chapter Thirteen

Something Dread, Something Red: Stuck in a proposal to a Marine Commodore, you escape minutes before your wedding in one last ditch effort to avoid getting married to a tyrant. Barely making it to the port of your town, you stumble across a ship just starting to leave and beg for passage off the island. You fail to notice that the people you beg for help, are pirates.

Warnings: Injuries, Wound Care.

To Note: “Red Haired” Shanks x FemReader

Word Count: ~3.0k

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You have your arms crossed and a slightly agitated look on your face as Shanks and the men head off to do their next ‘pirate thing.’ Of course, you aren’t allowed to go; they all say they don’t want you exposed to their pirating. But that doesn’t mean you’re happy about being left behind. You find yourself playing with the ruby necklace hanging around your neck, a necklace you had begrudgingly accepted on the last island you stopped at. Shanks hadn’t let you refuse the necklace; he’d been quite adamant about it…

“Did you not hear me?” you question the grinning man currently looking over a selection of jewelry encrusted with rubies. “I said no, Shanks!”

“Pardon me, my hearing isn’t what it used to be,” Shanks replies, ignoring your remark as he addresses the jeweler. “Do you have any triple A rubies on this island?”

“Certainly!” the jeweler says, reaching beneath his stall and pulling out a stack of boxes. “I’ve just completed several pieces with triple A rubies I acquired from an island renowned for its quality gemstones.” The jeweler takes out a large flat box and removes the top to reveal a stunning ruby necklace. Shanks’ eyes sparkle as he pulls you over.

“Come look at this, dear. I think the red goes perfectly with your complexion!” Your eye twitches as you are forced to stand front and center at the stand, letting the jeweler pull out the necklace for you to try on. Clenching your teeth, you take the necklace and carefully wrap it around your neck. When you try to connect the clasp, your fingers keep missing the little knob, and curses almost tumble from your lips.

“Here,” Shanks says, offering his hand to take the tiny clasp. Despite being one-armed, his right hand has become quite dexterous, and his fingers are nimble. While you hold the little loop for the clasp to catch, Shanks opens the clasp with his finger and hooks it. “All done.”

You let the chain drop and brush your lavender hair out of the way so the chain rests on your skin. Looking down, you can’t help but admire the way the ruby looks against your flesh. You reach up and brush your fingers over the ruby, for once not feeling suffocated or chained by the jewelry you wear.

“It is absolutely lovely,” you say, looking up at the jeweler. “I am sure you are proud to have made such a piece.” He beams at you, and while you are distracted with your ingrained politeness, Shanks deftly pulls out enough Berry to cover the cost of the necklace. Before you have a chance to take the necklace off to return it, Shanks is handing over the money and steering you away from the stand.

“Shanks, I swear to the gods—!” you erupt as he happily leads you towards a few more stalls that will surely capture your attention.

“All of the crew have a piece of red, Aria. It was time you had a piece of red yourself,” he tells you, explaining his thought process. “I wanted you to have this, so don’t argue with me.”

“I could have just dyed my hair red, Shanks,” you gripe at him, grudgingly accepting the fact that Shanks has probably just spent a pretty Berry on you. Shanks is no longer thinking about your refusal of the necklace but the idea of you dyeing your hair red!

“Absolutely not!” he exclaims crossly. “You are, under no circumstances, to ever dye your hair red.” Your eyes widen from the vehemence with which he speaks those words. But you just shrug and let him lead you on.

Still bitter about the necklace days later, you turn away from the view of the harbor and head for the main cabin to get some relaxing reading in. Or at least try to. You are working on your proclivity to worry. The men know what they are doing, and if something happens, they will take care of each other. You find your book where you left it and take a seat at the small table. You aren’t exactly sure when you started to worry so much about the men, more specifically, Shanks.

Don’t be silly, Linaria Bonn.

You have read enough of the forbidden romance novels in your father’s library to recognize the signs of… affection. Your face wrinkles at the word. Affection. You had little affection growing up, most of it coming from your barely-there father, if you even saw him. But you are well-equipped with the knowledge of what women feel when they hold affections for their romantic partner in the novel, and you are quite certain you are feeling the same.

“And yet I have no idea if this is even real because books are simply that, books,” you murmur to yourself, pressing your book against your mouth. You know the difference between fantasy and reality, and yet, what you feel is alarmingly straight out of a romance book. A crush. That is what you must be feeling. You certainly aren’t going to fall madly in love with the first man who gives you a scrap of kindness!

You read for about an hour, tidy up the main cabin, and even venture below deck to dust and clean. The men are clean, surprisingly clean, even before you started helping to keep the ship in neat and working order. As laid back as Shanks and the crew are, they are meticulous with how the Red Force is run. Everything has a place, and no sloppiness is accepted. So there really isn’t much for you to tidy as the hours whittle away. You are contemplating trying your hand at baking when the clamor of the gangplank steals your attention. Abandoning the kitchen, you hurry out onto the deck to see Lucky, Gab, and Benn worse for wear.

“What in heaven’s name did you get up to?” you demand as the rest pile on deck, each sporting various cuts, bruises, and blood-splattered clothing. You cringe internally at the blood staining their clothing, but if they got themselves back to the ship, they must be mostly okay.

“Some other pirates decided to pick a fight with us,” Bonk Punch states as Monster swings himself onto the ship and lets out a screech. You spare a glance at the primate.

“And I suppose you ended the fight?” Your voice is crisp, but they all sense the sarcastic edge.

“Oi, you say that like we started it!” Benn complains. You cross your arms and give the first mate a frank look.

“Well, did you?” you broach with perhaps a touch of snark. “Given your rather ineffable escapades as of late, I almost expected a bloodbath.”

“Now you’re just being dramatic,” Shanks' voice calls as he strides on board and pulls the gangplank back with Yasopp’s help. You turn your narrowed gaze to the red-headed pirate and pause. Of course, he too is caught up in the scuffle! Shanks is sporting a cut on his chin, with a few places on his tunic where a blade sliced through the white fabric, and you can’t tell if the blood on him is his or someone else’s! The pirate sees your thought process and speaks before you can erupt on him. “Aria—”

You cut him off with a flourish of your hand.

“Don’t you ‘Aria’ me, Shanks,” you snap before pointing to the main cabin. “Cabin, now.” You all but growl. Then you turn to the rest of the crew. “Clean yourselves up before you start tracking blood everywhere.” With that, you march towards the locker with the main deck med kit. As you grab the little box, an old lunch box refurbished to hold a few medical supplies, you hear the men moving about and heading down below.

Med kit in hand, you see that the main cabin door is open and head towards it, feeling slightly pleased that no one is fighting you on this. Entering Shanks’ cabin, you pull the door shut behind you and turn around to be greeted by Shanks dabbing a cloth at his chin in front of his floor-length mirror.

“You are going to need more than just a dab,” you state, moving to the table to set the kit down and get what you need. Some disinfectant wipes, gauze, tape, maybe even needle and thread, given the amount of blood you’d seen on his shirt. Then again, you can’t tell if it’s his or the other pirates.

“And you sound irate. Are you that upset with us doing our business?” Shanks asks, dabbing one last time at his chin before turning halfway in place to look at you. You glance up at him and raise an eyebrow.

“I do not like seeing you hurt, Shanks,” you correct him. “Your business is your business, but that doesn’t mean I am pleased that you and the others come back with wounds. Need I remind you of last week’s fever?” Shanks stares at you, his thoughts well hidden behind his beautiful dark eyes.

“If you want me to take my shirt off, madam, you only need to ask,” Shanks speaks, reverting to flirtatious humor. You don’t buy it and pull out several pads of gauze and wipes while rolling your eyes.

“Take your shirt off. I can’t tell what blood is yours or not.” While Shanks pulls his shirt off, you focus your eyes on the hard wood of the table and tell yourself that you will not, under any circumstances, ogle Shanks while tending to his wounds. You’d nearly started drooling the last time he’d been shirtless and had just barely caught yourself. Embarrassment aside, now is far from a good time to be appreciating his physique. But when you turn around, you can’t help but stare at his back and curse silently.

“You should have said something,” you murmur in agitation, striding up to Shanks to look closer at the laceration marking up one of his shoulders. It isn’t terrible, but it does seem deep. Shanks' eyes meet yours in the mirror as he tosses his shirt over the back of a nearby chair.

“I was hoping you’d miss it. I doubt you need to see more of my blood than the cut on my chin. Hongo said it might need a stitch or two.”

“You say that like I haven’t seen blood before,” you reply, wiping away half-dried blood around the wound to get a better picture of the overall laceration. “Believe me, women see far more blood than men think they do.” His eyes flash in concern from the implication of your words for a moment, and you quickly reassure him that it isn’t what he thinks it is. “She never cut skin, just beat it.”

“That isn’t a particularly reassuring answer,” Shanks grumbles, happy that your mother hadn’t broken your skin open but still very much angered by the beatings you no doubt endured since childhood.

“But it is the only one I have to give you,” you say, reaching for the needle and thread. “I’m thinking you’ll need about three stitches. It’s not too bad but won’t heal as fast if left alone.”

“And you are equipped to do so?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

“Hongo has been teaching me how to suture on pig skin, and I am well equipped in stitch work. My mother saw to that.” You thread one of the suture needles carefully and tie off the end, then turn your gaze back to Shanks. “Now, would you prefer I do this here, or do you want to go down and get in line with the rest of the men who need stitches?”

Ordinarily, Shanks would have joined the line in waiting for stitches or had one of the men do it… they all had patched each other up at some point in their time aboard. But his back is aching, and you are offering to stitch it up for him. He’ll take the option where he gets to spend time with you alone.

“I’ll take your hand, madam, as I am sure you could use the practice,” Shanks replies, much to your chagrin. You scoff at his words in fake irritation.

“Please, you should see my collection of embroidery at home. I am quite skilled in the catch stitch.” He grins, having no doubts about your ability to stitch, let alone stitch someone up. Your hand is probably the most steady on board! But you are so easy to tease and rile up at times. You catch the edge of his smirk and roll your eyes. He is teasing you yet again. “You are entirely incorrigible, do you know that?”

“Oh, I know that quite well,” Shanks tosses over his shoulder, giving you his infamous curvy smile.

“Look straight ahead,” you order, shoving your fingers into his messy red hair and turning his head the way you want. Quickly cleaning the edges of the slightly oozing wound, you look for the best place for the first stitch and get to work. It is quick and easy to place three neat stitches, and Shanks doesn’t squirm or move around once. Tying off the last knot, you snip the suture needle free and set it to the side before reaching for some gauze and tape. “Alright, that’s taken care of. Turn around.”

While you tuck away the suturing supplies and get out new antiseptic wipes and gauze, Shanks grabs his discarded shirt and turns around. Rather than pulling his shirt back on, Shanks' eyes latch onto the ruby necklace hanging around your neck. He is incredibly happy to see you wearing it after what he had to do to even buy you a present. Red looks nice on you, and the pirate can’t help but think about what you would look like draped in rubies… and he needs to rein in his thoughts because you are looking at him with a strange look.

“Something wrong?” Well, yes, he is looking at you with rather intense eyes and still hasn’t put his shirt back on. It is one thing to gawk at him while he and the men are sparring, but an entirely different thing to openly ogle him in the privacy of his cabin when it is just the two of you.

“Only my manners,” you sigh before placing your free hand beneath his chin and angling his jaw to get a better view of the nick. It is easy enough to clean up, not bleeding anymore, and is a pretty clean gash.

“Manners?” Shanks repeats with a huff. “Aria, you are the only one on this ship who has manners.”

“And you don’t give yourself enough credit. Believe me, I would know who doesn’t have manners,” you say in his and the others' defense. “Some Marines aren’t particularly endowed with such virtues.”

“No, they aren’t,” Shanks echoes, his mind going right to the look on your face when you had run right up to him on Kuri Island. You’d been running from marines, marines that had put desperation on your face. Those thoughts emerge on his face, and you quickly pick up on that.

“You know it’s…” you struggle to find an appropriate word. “…fine. My situation, that is. We haven’t crossed any marines, and to be quite frank, I’m not bothered by them. Most of them were respectable enough, just not…”

“Collins?” Shanks interjects as you dab a bit of healing ointment on his jaw. You can feel how it is clenched beneath your fingertips.

“That’s in the past, Shanks,” you softly remind him, trying to ease the strain and tension you can both see and feel.

“Sometimes the past comes back to haunt us, Aria. I don’t take Collins as the type of man to let his bride run free,” Shanks states, knowing full well the marine commodore has probably taken your action as a great insult.

“Then that is for me to worry about,” you reply firmly, determined to take care of this problem yourself. The crew of the Red Force has already done so much for you. Shanks has done so much! You are standing on your own two feet now. The marines are for you to handle, no one else. So you finish tending to his wound in silence. When you are done, you step away from the red-haired pirate to begin packing up.

“Aria,” Shanks speaks up after a few moments of you working in silence. You don’t look at him but hum in acknowledgment. Obstinate Aria. Shanks has to admit that he and the others find it amusing and adorable when you are obstinate about something, but in this moment? This is not a subject he is going to let you ignore. His right hand darts out and snatches your left. With one gentle tug, he has you spinning in a half circle to face him, and before you can step back to sneak your way out of this conversation, he releases your wrist and slides his arm around your back.

“Shanks,” you call in exasperation, your hand balancing on his shoulder. “Is this quite necessary? I’ve already informed you that Collins is—”

“A problem you are not going to solve alone,” Shanks cuts you off, looking into your eyes with a stern gaze. “Yes?” He is doing this again? You lift your chin stubbornly and grind your teeth together. How much are you going to take from these pirates? Haven’t they already given you enough? Shanks can see your thinking in your lovely eyes and presses. “You may think you can handle Collins on your own, Aria… but take it from someone who has dealt with men like him before. He’s far too much for one person to handle.”

“So you expect me to lie down and let everyone else fight my battles for me?” you question sharply. “That is hardly appropriate!”

“This has nothing to do with being appropriate or not, Aria,” Shanks corrects you, pulling you closer until you are standing between his legs. “We are protecting one of our own.”

You sigh inwardly and bring your hand up to trace the curve of his jaw. It is getting harder and harder to resist his handsome face.

“You aren’t letting this one go, are you?” you speak, shoulders drooping in resignation. Shanks' face remains unchanged.

“No.” He sees the moment you crack and holds you tighter. “I’m not asking you to stand behind me, Aria. I am asking you to stand next to me.”

Date Published: 3/8/24

Last Edit: 7/29/24

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[starsilvereld]

Musings on the Jewelry of the Quendi

Part 1/?

I recently began to consider the different cultural types and physical styles of gemstones, jewelry and adornments in different elvish cultures, particularly the Noldor. (I think everyone can agree that, out of all the cultural groups of elves, they probably have the most background with Significantly World-Changing Gems and Shinies.) Except to understand the Noldor, you have to understand their history and heritage.

So. Let's go back to the roots, and talk about jewelry among the Quendi pre-Journey.

(Note: a lot of this is going to be vibes-based, or at least "plausible given canon but not textually supported". I'm also going to be mentioning real-world adornment techniques and traditions. I don't think Quendi methods follow along exactly, it's more a very very brief showing of what some human cultures have used!)

The adornments of the pre-journey Quendi are/were as diverse as the speaking peoples were themselves - so very diverse indeed!

Materials are an incredibly important aspect of jewelry, and early Quendi work reflects that. The physical location of a group of elves influenced the materials they had access to, and thus what sort of jewelry they make - from the work of the first goldsmiths experimenting with nuggets and flakes found in mountain streams, the rare washes full of opalized wood, all the way to those focused on biotic materials like porcupine quills*, shells**, feathers***, bones****, and many, many different kinds of plants.

Lifestyle would also influence materials access! More sedentary Quendi groups would have more investment in mining and thus metalwork/gemstones or other crafts that require not-so-portable setups to produce.

Despite this grounding in the local environment, a LOT of jewelry travels through trade routes - friendships, marriages, nomadic kin-groups meeting...

And once materials like glass, gems, and metals are extracted and processed they do become highly portable! And can thus be integrated/used by nomadic or traveling craftspeople.

There is SO much space to theorize how immortality would impact the social behaviors and trade/travel between early Quendi.

Notably, jewelry would not travel as a result of armed conflict and spoils of war.

And as the jewelry travels, so do the methods behind the making! Either reverse-engineered with local materials by strangers who have never met the crafters, or by a sharing of minds/ideas/demonstrations of techniques. Or both! Craftspeople might come across a reflection of their work hundreds of years after it's spread to a village they've never visited.

It is a glorious and somewhat chaotic melting-pot of primordial jewelry soup.

Trends in both materials and methods usually travel along trade and kinship lines, but nobody is keeping close track of exactly where and when every idea appears.

However, some styles may be named for (presumed) areas of origin, kin-groups, or even individual craftspeople who developed these techniques.

Jewelry associated with trade brings up the question of value. And value is a fascinating concept in the literal cradle of Quendi civilization! One that is probably a separate post, alas. Suffice to say there are three main components to value in early Quendi jewelry: investment (most often time), beauty, and emotional attachment/history.

Post-Journey, much of this early work is not well-representing in the public consciousness of Valinor. One part revisionist history positing all Great Advances in society/crafting as having occurred after their arrival in Valinor, and one part those items often being treasured keepsakes for those who went on the Journey - of lands and people they left behind or of the traveling days themself. No museum donation after grandma kicks it here! Additionally, a lot of the jewelry produced was somewhat perishable, at least on the time scale of the Quendi. Even wood will wear away with enough use and exposure.

Links to other posts in the Jewelry series:

------

*Many different Native American/First Nations American groups use porcupine quills decoratively, although historically this use was not necessarily in art and adornment that would fit European concepts of jewelry.

** Cowrie shells have a long and extensive history in Africa as money, and thus as jewelry; furthermore, the oldest currently known human-created adornment is snail shell beads from 142,000 years ago! (Also African, specifically found in modern-day Morocco)

***Maori feather cloaks (kahu huruhuru) and Chinese tian-tsui (jewelry made with kingfisher feather inlays) come to mind.

****Bones as adornment are a very old idea! One of the oldest extant pieces is a nose piercing from ~42,000 years ago found in Australia.

[calliopescorner]

HERA

CHAMPION:

Her champion is usually someone who she thinks can best back her up, understand her own hardship, and be a confident (and sometimes ruthless) leader. She needs them also to be able to bring her ideas to the table and represent her during times of conflict, both with other demigods and with the gods. She will grant them some of her divine power, and will allow them to sit with her and spend a week with her on Olympus during the summer (and winter, if they’re a year-round camper) solstice. Her champion can call upon her to deliver divine justice when needed. They are required to stay in her cabin, and she gives them a piece of jewelry with a special gemstone once she claims them.

BLESSED BIRTH:

If Hera is present for the birth of a child, Hera is able to bless the child. This gives them a few minor powers, and through the blessing, Hera strengthens the bond between the child (or children, if the mother has more) and their mother. She is able to also grant the child finely-tuned emotional perception, and the ability to understand how others feel. This is the only way Hera can technically have a “child,” although she will not be present for most of the child’s life, nor will they be claimed if they are a fully mortal child. She will also bless the child, that if they ever decide to become a parent, that they will have the operation of birth go smoothly for them. This same blessing is applied to the mother of the child.

CABIN:

The outside of the cabin bears resemblance to Zeus’ cabin, with large marble columns and smooth, electric-proof walls. The cabin walls on the outside have carvings of peacocks on them, as well as carvings of Argus Panoptes and Io. This was done by Argus as a way of honoring Hera for bringing him back to life to guard Camp Empeiria. On the front columns, there are pomegranate vines growing around them. There are also some carvings that have been made to keep the pomegranates there.

On the inside, it’s rather dark and cold, with a statue of Hera in the middle. There is a hearth underneath her, and it is the only source of light on the upper level. There are carvings of the various women in Greek mythology, with a carving of a wedding procession wrapping around all of the walls. However, if one pulls at one of the peacock feathers on the statue and locks in a special gemstone given to them by Hera, it reveals a secret entrance to the champion’s headquarters underneath the cabin.

The secret entrance leads to her champion’s headquarters. This offers them a bedroom, bathroom, and basically a small studio apartment, just underground. It allows the champion to live in protection and peace, even if Camp Empeiria experiences great distress. There are sets of armor, weapons, and a quality sized bed for them. They also have access to modern technology, so they are able to stay updated with the rest of the world. If need-be, it can be used as a bunker.

CABIN CULTURE:

Many campers see the cabin as rather inhospitable, with its cold interior and the general uncomfortable feeling most demigods feel around Hera. Many demigods know her mythical rage, and thus tread very carefully around the cabin.

The only person that even goes into Hera’s cabin is her priestess, which is usually just a demigod assigned to give Hera special sacrifices of food. This is done to keep her protecting Camp, and affords some level of enhanced strength to her priestess. If Hera doesn’t have a champion, her priestess is allowed to represent her at counselor meetings.

Her champion is given a level of respect at Camp, and is generally seen to be an authority on Hera and some of the other gods. It’s a very coveted position, essentially, which can make it also a position with a LOT of pressure. Hera also will keep in contact with her champion more than her priestess (if these end up being two different positions). She only chooses her champion in times of great conflict, so her champion will easily know that Hera has thought a lot about them.

SOME POTENTIAL POWERS:

Proficiency in leadership / relationships

Zoolingualism with lions / peacocks

Enhanced vision / light-resistant eyes

Resistance to electrocution

Immunity to emotional manipulation / Charmspeak

Minor photokinesis

Reblog or @/ this blog if it inspires you to make your own champion of Hera!

[justanotherbirdbrain-blog]

Writing about Mines in your Fictional Universe: A Geology Introduction

Hello! I'm Bird, and I am here to guide you on a journey about different mines that exist, what materials are being mined, what those materials might be mined for, and what rocks/what processes might make these areas mineable. I will also touch briefly on the idea of gem quality, the commonness of the material, and what these things might look like fresh out of the dirt!

First things first, lets talk about the what types of things we might want to mine for in a fictional universe! There are a lot of things that are used daily that require mining, but there are a few that I see written about the most: Gold, Gemstones, Iron, and Coal. I personally would love to see this idea expanded on a bit, so lets talk about some mines that would definitely be necessary but overlooked! First one is pretty easy, glass! those beautiful stained glass windows are useless if no one is mining quartz to be made to glass, and I imagine it would be quite a profitable business seeing as glass, in general, was a luxury in ye olden times. The next thing we need to address is Abrasives! want to sand and polish stone and metal? Want to sharpen your blades for battle? May I introduce you to abrasive minerals! garnet, corundum (Ruby and Sapphire), and yes, diamond! Why are we using such beautiful gemstones to polish other things? Simple, even if you are to find a deposit of these gemstones (garnet being one of the more common ones) most of the time they are inclusion rich, ridiculously small, an undesirable color, or all three of these.

Finding gemstones that are good quality is hard, your character will not stumble upon it, pick up the rock and immediately know if the location is good enough to mine gemstones. If you are determined to make it a gemstone mine, have your character hold the mineral up to the sun/a light source and let them be able to see light coming through, though it is considerably thick.

Moving into metal mining! Metal mining is both easier and more complicated to write! Why is it complicated? Because unless it is gold or silver you are unlikely to see the desired metal itself. Why is it easy? welllll, I am going to try to make it easy. First things first, a lot of metals are chromaphores, this means that when the element is present, it will influence the color! Copper is an excellent example of this, old pennies oxidize and turn blue/teal/green, so do most rocks bearing copper! Looking for iron? It will probably stain the rocks dingy and brownish red. Things to note: copper and iron can be found in mineable amounts together! If you do this, iron will be present in the form of pyrite, or fool's gold, this has a nice cubic shape and can be described as such, the copper will typically leave a teal residue or veining across the rock, which in this case will almost exclusively be black to dark gray (Its basalt) but it can be found as the mineral chalcopyrite also (looks like fool's gold but it doesn't make cute crystals). Malachite is also a copper ore, in my experience I have never seen malachite from a mine that has looked like some of the stuff I have seen in gem shops, azurite (A darker blue mineral) can be present also, but again, these are usually very fine grained and would not be able to be used as jewelry, but obviously, in some places it must happen, just much less frequently.

Another thing I will briefly mention is that, if you are writing about metals remember that these metals will require a smelting process to extract a pure metal, this usually requires some other material (For iron, it is charcoal). Also remember alloys! Most useable metals are a mix of different metals to make them harder. This even includes gold jewelry. Last comment about metals, a very interesting plot for a fictional universe would be the use of lead. Lead ore was a hot commodity before we knew it was toxic, the side effects (Being nuts) could really create some tension.

Lastly in terms of mined material, I will briefly mention coal and stone in general just to say, coal is a sedimentary rock, distinctly different from the typical environments necessary to form most gemstones and heavy metal deposits (Yes, there are exceptions). Coal is dark black/gray, which is quite uncommon for sedimentary rocks which tend to range from reds/tans/browns/grays. When coal is lifted it will feel much lighter than you anticipate, which is the polar opposite of what happens when you lift a metal rich rock, which will feel immensely heavy. Finally, Coal will not turn into diamonds in nature, diamonds need mantle pressures and temperatures to form, there will be no diamonds under a coal mine unless there was a mantle derived eruption that got covered in a swamp, that became coal and as they dug they exposed the kimberlite pipe (I mention this because I just read this in a story and it hurt my feelings). Finally, If you want to write about a mine that is definitely necessary but want the content to be pretty low-maintenance, but profitable for whoever owns it, owning a granite/marble/ or really any desirable stone quarry would be perfect.

Now I will move onto what kind of mining exists today, I will not talk about every exclusive mine, but I will talk about ones that are common that are on my radar. First up, the one everyone talks about in books, underground mining. Underground mining is used when you are getting the material from the 'primary'/original source. The rock is rich in copper? Lets mine said rock. However, mining underground is the most dangerous form of mining, there can easily be a lack of oxygen because of insufficient ventilation (That's why people will carry something with an open flame when going into abandoned mines; if the flame goes out there is not enough oxygen and you have to turn back). There can also be lots of collapses due to overhead rocks, enough said. Cave mining is primarily done when the amount of rock above the deposit is too great to strip mine.

Now lets talk about strip mining! Strip mining is when you just mine on the surface, and dig deeper and deeper into the ground to obtain your desired resource whether it be stone, coal, gemstones, or anything else. It truly is less glamorous, but it is safer than digging a tunnel. That said it has its own issues, sure the oxygen is good, and you don't have to worry about the rocks collapsing over your head, but oh wait, the rocks can collapse over your head. Landslides can occur due to the over steepening of sides, excessive rainfall, and most importantly, old faults or planes of weakness that happen to be facing towards the mine (the diagram will help this make sense). Both of these types of mines can also create ecological damage, which can be mitigated nowadays, but then maybe not so much. Namely acid mine drainage, I will not talk much on the effects but a quick google search will give you plenty of information that might be useful for writing.

Now both of these are trying to mine a targeted rock, but sometimes its best to let nature do the work so we can do less. Diamonds, gold, corundum (rubies/sapphires), and garnets all have one thing in common. They are dense! So when erosion happens, and that sediment makes its way into a river, everything will separate based on its density. This is just because faster moving water can hold heavier sediments, and slower moving water will drop those heavy sediments leaving only the lighter sediments within the water. Lots of places that mine the things listed above will pan/sieve in active rivers and streams, or they can surface mine where rivers and streams used to be! These are called placer deposits. There is one setback though, the gemstones will not be perfect crystal shaped, they will be rounded due to being thrown around in a river (like beach glass). These are sapphires, but they have been rounded over time in the river.

Final thoughts, writing about a mine can seem nerve-racking, intimidating, or just something that you want to briefly mention and move on from, but truly I think going into the weeds could really add something to a story! Even if stories are slightly inaccurate about information, I am still 100x more excited to see it mentioned in more detail than to see it as a sentence. Besides it is fantasy, it doesn't always have to be exactly like earth.

[ourtalechara]

The sun was coming up on a new day over the hole in the ground where London had used to be. Far below, in the caverns filled with bats, magic, and bioluminescent oddities, a little girl sprinted through the streets of Veilgarden.

Although the Singing Mandrake had, technically, already come to a close, a handful of people (and things that were presumably people) still sat drinking within it's walls. The barmaid, of course, placing used mugs in the sink and eyeing spills of wine that she knew she would have to soon clean up. Then there were a few customers that she hadn't the heart to kick out - poor unconscious patrons who had blacked out from the alcohol. She couldn't find it in herself to wake them and make them leave, not in the state they were in.

Finally, at a far table, sat a newsboy - a regular to the Singing Mandrake, but not for the reasons most would expect. He'd only arrived a few minutes before closing, so Cassie let him stay a few minutes after, too. Though, in reality, she mostly had him stick around because she enjoyed his company. The two gossip trains had never had a boring conversation, but she knew she could trust him to be sensible about what he said, as well as the volume in which he said it. Not only was it useful for secret keeping, but for times like tomorning, when the Mandrake wanted to remain peaceful and quiet - although the banter between the two of them still remained lively.

As the laughter between them died down, Harry raised his mug to his lips, before pausing. He placed it down and reached into his inner pocket. It was warm.

He pulled out a gem encased in a metal frame - a piece of jewelry, a pendant that didn't hang. The red gemstone was glowing, brighter than it was supposed to.

"...Julie?"

Suddenly, there was a frantic tapping at the door.

Cassie scoffed. "Damn critters. They always -"

But Harry cut them off.

"Open it."

They turned to look at him, a quizzical expression on her face. A panicked one on his. He was standing up now.

"Open it."

With some internal reluctance, but no physical hesitation, Cassie hurried over, unlocking and opening the door. They looked around, unsure whether she was supposed to see bats, or people, or masters, a constable, a demon, or what have you. But at her feet stood a child - a girl, shaking, only a few feet tall, eyes filled with teardrops and clutching a bright red jewel between her hands.

Her eyes locked onto the newsboy across the room and before Cassie had time to process that she was there, the little girl's little legs were carrying her across the Mandrake's floors.

She flew into Harry Teller's arms and tried to wrap her own around him. She cried into his shirt as he smoothed her hair back, shushing her gently.

"Shhhhhh... It's alright. It's alright, Julie. Daddy's here now. Shhh... You're okay. Tell me what happened."

Cassie cautiously closed the door, completely confused, as Harry picked the girl up and sat her next to him on the seat he had been at. She blubbered words into his coat that they couldn't quite make out... Tall... Scary... Dark... Everything else sounded muffled to Cassie, but he managed to make out everything.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, giving her a light kiss on her head. "I'm so sorry. But it's okay. I'm here now. See?" He took out his own gemstone and touched it to hers. "They're glowing. It's okay, kiddo. I'm here."

The girl's breathing slowed, and she calmed as she saw the bright red glow of the gemstones. She closed her eyes and relaxed into the seat. "I'm sorry," she whimpered. "I just- I was so scared and I went to you. It just- the gem, and I- I-"

He shushed her some more and smoothed back her hair to try and get her breathing under control.

"When was the last time you slept?"

She didn't answer, but wiped her wet face in silence.

"Let's get you to bed, okay Julie? You're gonna feel a whole lot better after some shut eye."

He began to stand, but her fingers dug into his coat.

"Don't you want to go home?"

If she answered, it was imperceptible.

"Don't want to go outside?"

She shook her head.

"Julie... It's alright, I'm here now."

He sighed. "Cassie?"

"Yes?" Answered the barmaid, who had been awkwardly alternating between eavesdropping, pretending to ignore the situation, and hoping that the blacked out costumers would stay that way, lest she have to explain the circumstances beyond her own understanding.

"Might you happen to have an open bed upstairs?"

Cassie grimaced. They grappled with the thought of trying to excuse to their boss why they'd let a newspaper boy stay after closing and why they'd let a child as young as this one into the Singing Mandrake. With as little knowledge as she had, she dreaded having them stay longer than was strictly necessary at this point.

But, seeing the exhausted child huddled in her friend's arms...

She decided to ask questions later.

"Of course."

[shirefantasies]

Congrats on 300 followers! You’re definitely one of the best blogs and best writers on this site so well deserved! I wanted to ask if I could get a matchup, I have no preference for lotr or The Hobbit and I don’t have a gender preference either. I have short blonde hair, green eyes and I’m leaning on the chubby or curvy side. I love to create anything and everything, drawing, jewelry making, even tried knitting. I love puzzles, riddles and trivia games too. Besides all that I love to have a special cup of tea at the end of everyday.

I hope you recover well from your surgery and have a wonderful day! 🍄

OMG thank you so much for your amazingly kind comments 🥰 I love being here but words like these are definitely a big part of why I stay. Writing is truly a passion of mine so I’m so happy to hear that!

Also sweetheart I had to match you up with…

Bilbo!

This hobbit never expected to find love outside of the Shire…or at all! But fate has its own plans for us all, hence the hobbit choosing to take the adventure of a lifetime. Maybe after all more than one 😏 Gandalf hadn’t just enlisted one player in the big burglary after all. You were well-studied, clever, crafty, many things needed on a journey like Thorin Oakenshield was embarking on. Bilbo wasn’t looking for love, but when you pulled out your knitting needles what else would you expect?

You’re like a figure from a great Shire tale he’d read with that golden hair and those bright green eyes. Hobbits love curves, too, so you know he is blushing around you! His first questions are anything but forward, though, just wondering where you came from and how you know the grey wizard. Cue stories of the man’s fireworks bursting over the lake! You’ve never visited the Shire, but with every word Bilbo speaks your beautiful eyes widen in wonder and you gush that you’d love to see it and before he can help himself he’s blurting out that he could always show you around there after this whole mess is through. He even finds himself getting quite protective of you, snapping at the dwarves if they say anything that remotely upsets you and finding the courage to draw Sting the first time he sees an orc look your way.

Because you both enjoy riddles and puzzles, whenever you have free time or need to decompress on the road the pair of you find yourselves solving any you have and swapping them back and forth. When Bilbo plucks up the courage, he tells you how much of a comfort you are on this journey; he's spent all this time missing home and yet now he feels like he's found a new one. Somehow even being out in the woods is not so terrible! Your jewelry making is fascinating to the hobbit, so expect lots of questions about the process ranging from is it dangerous to what your favorite gemstone is. Perhaps he is secretly fantasizing about purchasing you a piece for you to keep...

The fact that you both love tea! Bilbo one hundred percent commits your special tea to memory, it does not matter how specific the blend is or if you put an odd amount of anything in it. Both of you could make each other’s perfect cup of tea in the dark. If your tastes are quite different, expect some tittering and head-shaking and general teasing, but you will get what you request every single time.

The look of deep concern in your eyes when the hobbit returns, the way you take him by the shoulders and tell him you thought he was lost, well…let’s just say the emotions get the best of you. Before the orcs catch up the dwarves whoop at the kiss you two yank each other into! When he does use the ring, you can sense the panic striking him when he returns and you go right to him, which he appreciates more than anything. One time you even noticed he looked a bit cold, like all the color was drained from him, so you wrapped him up and let him share in the warmth of one of your handmade scarves…and yourself, of course! He often uses the ‘you look cold’ excuse on you so that he can take your hands!

When the journey is up, all you want to do is go to the Shire, the desire burning in your heart stronger than anything, and who is Bilbo to deny what he also wishes? Years can go by and you never fail to make Bilbo’s heart flutter. The way you pull him into your kisses by his suspenders, the illustrations you add to his maps and letters you surprise him with, inspiring him to do the same. Having a wonderful and creative partner means he can have a cozy life at home in Bag End, yet it is still an adventure every day!

Taglist: @mossthebogwitch @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @pirate-lord-of-narnia @ibabblealot @joonies-word @stormchaser819 | Reply/Ask/Message to join!

[lodessa]

4, 7, 39, 54 for the fanfic asks!

4. Where do you find inspiration for new ideas?

it honestly varies so much. Like my most recent fic/ WIP was inspired just by staring at gifs from one particular moment in a scene/episode and analyzing what one character's expression might mean or be triggered by. But I also might be inspired by listening to a song or something that happens in a totally different canon that I feel like the characters might react to differently or the same. A lot of ideas come from frustration with canon. Another source is just discussion with fannish friends that goes down unexpected rabbit holes. I also genuinely enjoy writing to prompts a lot of the time, trying to find a way to make them work in my brain.

7. How do you choose which POV to write from?

I am fairly married to third person close limited, so it is really about whose thoughts/impressions I most want to capture, or sometimes if I want to utilize dramatic irony. Like if I want my reader to be surprised with a character or see something click into place in that character's mind, I tend to write it from their point of view. if I want a character's motivations to be ambiguous, I also think I sometimes make decisions about POV for smut where there might not be totally clean explicit consent or something that might push readers' boundaries to put the reader in the mind of the character we might otherwise question whether they are okay/into it so we get to see exactly how welcome that interaction is.

39. Share a snippet from a WIP

Probably not one the WIP you were hoping for @feeisamarshmallow, but here is what I had just written when this ask notification popped up:

“Elendil,” she says warmly, smiling softly though there is a sadness to it.  “Thank you for coming so swiftly and at such a late hour.” “I am always at your disposal,” he nods, noticing the lack of ornamentation she is wearing.  None of her usual jewelry is visible and the dress she wears is finely made but simple.  “Though I wish I could offer more.” She still looks like a queen, shining all the brighter without any distractions to compete for the eyes’ attention. When they first met, Elendil had wondered who the woman was beneath the crown, under the gemstones.  Now he knows the truth: she is more precious, more rare, than the entire contents of the royal treasury. “You lend me your strength, your eyes, your faith, your loyalty” she tells him, “All things I have had a great deal of need for lately.” “I have been a poor shield, Miriel. There is no need to deny it.”

54. What’s your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

I mentioned my love for the brainstorming phase in another response to an ask on these questions, so I am going to talk about the other end: discussing the characters/relationship/canon etc with others in the comment section of the fic and them saying how you captured something important or made them consider something new etc or just making new friends that way.