#I LOVE THE SILHOUETTE OF THE WARDEN TOO
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PEARL PEARLECENTMOON <3333
Woah!! Take your favorite hermit! Got them in your brain? Rotated them a little? Good! Draw them with your favorite mob!
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/7e82b0d3ef420f75a30234ea25ea3a38/ef0aafef91f3a579-d1/s540x810/5f61b4b85f22a53611f4c327f145d9bd6d5c1973.jpg)
Idt i actually have one singular fav hermit or mob HEJSLOSHAHA BUT THIS MADE ME THINK ABOUT DRAWING PEARL WITH A WARDEN SO I WENT FOR IT >:3
#I LOVE PEARL IN YOUR STYLE#LOOKAT HER GOOO#SHE AND THE WARDEN ARE BESTIES#I LOVE THE SILHOUETTE OF THE WARDEN TOO#WTF JAS#THIS IS SO PRETTYYYY <33
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this is so stupid but i always have fun imagining the milgram characters watching their own/others mvs and seeing their reactions, especially for MeMe
That’s not stupid at all, thank you so much for the ask!! It’s sooo interesting to think about! I planned on just posting this drabble, but the more I thought about it, the more I started jotting down headcanons for everyone 👀 Of course there’s the initial disbelief and shock that Milgram can really do what it claims, but once they accept that, they’d have a lot of interesting reactions…
Es gets to watch the video first, then the prisoners are free to watch their own in the privacy of the courtroom/extraction room/wherever. Other prisoners can watch them only with explicit permission from the video’s singer. No one is allowed to watch Undercover except for Es. At first they spend hours looking at those final frames of themself flinching from the camera, hoping to jog any sort of memories, but eventually they give up on it. While actually watching it, they don’t mind the murder silhouettes. While sleeping, however, it has triggered more than one nightmare.
Haruka: He thinks Weakness is very pretty – he’s amazed seeing himself on the screen and hearing his voice, knowing he’s not that good of a singer. Even before his innocent verdict, it gives him a huge surge of confidence. Once he gets to know the others better, he gives them mv permissions, then stares intently at their faces to see their reactions as they watch it. AKAA scares him a bit, seeing his own intense emotions on screen, and he only gives Muu permission to see it. When he’s alone, Haruka pauses the shots of his mother, just to stare for a while.
Yuno: Laughs at the symbolism her mind used in Umbilical. She’s never shied away from sexual words/thoughts, so it's funny the video was as tame as it was. She thinks the song is fun, and isn’t afraid to show the others and sing snippets of it around the prison. Some days it’s too emotional for her to get into it, but most of the time she tries to display a confident attitude about it. After Tear Drop, she’s satisfied with her anger and more overtly sexual images. If anything, she feels too exposed by the shots of herself looking more vulnerable/sad.
Fuuta: He experiences a solid mix of embarrassment at the gaming theme in Bring it On and feeling a surge of pride that he looks badass in the knight’s armor. He’s worried the warden won’t take him seriously with the video game obsession, but he absolutely loves the song and thinks it portrays his toughness and ideals well. He’s less thrilled with Backdraft, everything about it unsettles and embarasses him. He’s thrown by the shot of crossing out his own silhouette – he’d had self-harming thoughts, but wasn’t quite ready to confront them so blatantly yet. Like Haruka, he can be caught pausing the arcade shot just for a moment before turning the whole thing off and storming away.
Muu: She has mixed emotions towards After Pain. She hates seeing herself look so weak and pathetic, but it gives her a lot of hope that her story will be understood. She misses her friends, and seeing them again is bittersweet. She closes her eyes at the moment of the stabbing – she’s only gotten the courage to watch it through her fingers once. She watches INMF once, then refuses to look at it again from shame/horror. Despite Haruka’s begging, she doesn’t let him watch it, either.
Shidou: He asks Es what they saw in Throw Down. Upon finding out his family wasn’t in it, he chooses not to watch it. He believes he already knows all about his emotions and crime, so there’s no need to go through that pain again. He’s tempted to watch it when he’s confused about Es’ verdict, but still holds off. He does watch Triage when informed his family is in it. He spends hours in front of the screen by himself. Only after seeing that one does he watch Throw Down, though he’s still left confused about Es’ decisions.
Mahiru: Absolutely loves TIHTBILWY. She thinks it perfectly describes her situation, and that the song is very cute. She lets others watch it, and unlike Yuno, feels like singing it 24/7. It reminds her of her bf, and she thinks that’s very romantic. Similar to Shidou, she spends a lot of time watching I Love You just to look at her boyfriend. She shows it to everyone, just to show him off and talk about him, even if she does skip over the beginning and end each time.
Kazui: He is very similar to Shidou; he refuses to watch his videos until T2, assuming it would be too painful to watch something he already knows and wishes to avoid. Unlike Shidou, seeing Hinako is far too painful, and he regrets watching it and seeing her so happy on their wedding day. Though maybe he’s still waiting, and hasn’t seen any of the videos yet…
Amane: Magic makes her worry more than anything. She fears she’s poisoned by unnecessary vainness since so much of her video involves cute things, colors, outfits, animals, and is set up like a tv show. She’s also worried that Es and the others will really see her as a child because of how cute the whole thing is. She prevents herself from watching it too many times, but buried under all her fears, it gives her a surge of pride seeing herself so talented and pretty and the star of the show. Purge March only reaffirms her confidence in her crime – the video brings up some awful memories, but it shows her as a leader, a warrior, a hero! It brings her comfort and confidence more than anything.
Mikoto/John: The videos are distressing to both of them, and they spend all their time studying the others’ screentime. Mikoto watches in horror as John does things that line up with his spotty memories, and John panics seeing that his actions distress Mikoto more than they’ve reassured/saved him. John does end up watching his own scenes a few times – it feels incredibly good to appear in a way that Mikoto may finally notice him. He feels seen. Now, logically I think that MeMe would be the final tipping point in which Mikoto finally accepts the situation and his DID, but if I must stick to his canon denial, then I’d say he goes on a whole rant about movie magic andt the crazy things you can do with editing nowadays. He doesn’t have a good explanation on how Milgram found his home and knew so much about him, but he explains everything away as cgi or camera effects. Double manages to sway him a bit more, as he hears John speak so plainly to him. Just as the audience had some debate on who was apologizing at the end of Double, Mikoto and John wonder who is apologizing to whom. Though they both come to the conclusion it’s their own apology, they decide that if it was the others’, they’d accept it and forgive them.
Kotoko: She’s very pleased with Harrow, and is unashamed to show it to the others. Though she’d been able to watch a few of the previous prisoners’ videos, it still shakes her a bit when she realizes that Milgram really does have the tech to look deep inside her. She watches it just a few times – not obsessing over it, but not afraid either. Deep Cover, however, is a once-and-done sort of deal. She claims she’s not letting the others watch it because “they couldn’t handle such harsh but true criticisms about themselves,” but she doesn’t end up watching it anymore herself, either.
#milgram#es#haruka sakurai#yuno kashiki#fuuta kajiyama#muu kusunoki#shidou kirisaki#mahiru shiina#kazui mukuhara#amane momose#mikoto kayano#kotoko yuzuriha#thank you so much! and for being patient 😅#i didnt mean to take so long but i kept chipping away at ideas while i got to this one#these were so much fun to think about!! i went for more emotional ones here but i do have silly thoughts too#i have that silly post about them making a competition after seeing each others mvs#though -even if they dont make it outwardly a big deal like that#i think they definitely would silently compare their videos/crimes to each others and decide whose was better#i still stand by the fact that fuuta asks kotoko if shes a furry after seeing harrow sdfasdf#i cant imagine kazui allowing anyone in the prison to watch his but IF he did#fuuta would also ask if he was a furry after cat ADSFSADF#i think the reactions t1 would be pretty positive/comforting#but in t2 theres a lot less pleasantries and compliments#aside from the obvious deep insights the videos give i think theyd reveal a lot of sweet similarities#like appreciation for flowers or cooking or performance or video games or music genres#but by t2 everyones on edge and suspicious of each other#or ashamed themself :(#i think its really cool imagining who would want to share theirs and who would keep theirs private...#rose posts
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Hello! Do you know if there Is there a Milgram lore guide? I got into the music and I vaguely understand they're all in super jail but I see all this stuff recently about a recently released MV and I understand nothing. Thank u for ur consideration 🙇♂️
i dunno about a specific lore guide but i can give you a rundown!
Milgram is a prison built to punish those have taken a life, but their actions are not punishable by law/deal with a controversial societal topic. Each prisoner represents some different situation, often in pairs that foil each other (for example, prisoner 03 Fuuta's crime has to do with cyberbullying, while 04 Muu's has to do with regular bullying).
Milgram operates under a 3 trial system, and each trial, each prisoner will be interrogated (a voice drama featuring the prisoner and Es), a music video will be "extracted" from their memories, and then the audience (us) will vote whether to forgive them or not (also translated as innocent/guilty verdicts) (but you can only vote if you have twitter or LINE). I've assembled a playlist here of all the introduction videos, voice drama translations, and music videos in order (plus cover songs; theyre not strictly canon but give a fun insight on the character)
The number 1 thing to watch if you're confused would be this video. Jackalope is a funny little rabbit in charge of the prison, and only Es (the warden, also the audience stand-in) can hear him talk.
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then there's Undercover, which was the first music video, and an introduction to all the characters. they all have a little line about them, and theres a lot of ominous shots of them in silhouette beating up Es, and some shots of what looks like each prisoner's life outside of milgram.
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Undercover is especially relevant because the recent video that came out, Undercover: Route: Your Curtain Call, is a reprise of this, but... some things are different. I'll put this under a read-more for spoilers.
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So. Haruka, Shidou, and Mahiru are missing.
some background: after trial 1 was concluded, Kotoko, whose whole story is about vigilante justice, attacked the prisoners who were voted guilty (except Amane, because attacking a 12-year old might be a step too far, especially since with what we learned in Deep Cover, Kotoko had a friend around Amane's age, or at least on the younger side. Maybe Amane reminds her of Lucky. Hmmm...). This confirmed that even though the prisoners can't attack Es, they can attack each other. Kotoko was pretty evenly matched by John, but she severely injured Mahiru and messed up Fuuta's right eye before being stopped by Kazui. Shidou, a doctor, told us in trial 2 that Mahiru's injuries were serious, and she could die if he wasn't around to treat them.
Someone, however, doesn't like Shidou. The religious group that Amane was raised in frowns upon medical treatment, believing that illness or injury is a trial from God and one should rely on faith to get through that. She views modern medicine, and indeed any help at all, to be in violation of this and therefore against the natural order of her religion. (She may have even been punished for violating this exact thing, as we see in her music videos. So she's very serious about this.) Therefore, she has a grudge against Shidou for being a doctor. Lots of current theories are that she is responsible for Shidou's disappearance/death in some way. That would also explain Mahiru's absence, because without Shidou there to treat her, she may have succumbed to her injuries. (It's also possible she killed herself, because she views us voting her guilty as Milgram rejecting her reason for living, her love. And she says she can't live without love.)
Haruka is a separate deal entirely. Sometime between trials 1 and 2, Haruka and Muu became close friends, relying on each other emotionally to a degree that is... let's say unusual. I'm not the expert on them. In his trial 2 interrogation, Haruka was angry at Es, but couldn't attack them directly; so, to disrupt the order of Milgram, he threatened to kill himself if Muu was voted guilty.
...yeah.
Ultimately, we don't know precisely what happened to them, and we won't know until the third trial begins. But it doesn't look good.
#puddle talks#puddle answers#milgram#mahiru shiina#shidou kirisaki#haruka sakurai#muu kusunoki#amane momose#kotoko yuzuriha#milgram spoilers
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PLEASE FEEL FREE KILLY to provide snippets/commentary/whatever you wish about ‘The Burning House’; consider me already intrigued!!! <3 thank you!
Love how The Burning House immediately had people going 👀 at me today, haha!
One of the fun parts of this project for me is that I get to move the scope of the narrative beyond just WWII. Half of this story is set in late 50s Berlin, at the height of the Cold War but before the Berlin Wall is built, and it's been really interesting to do research into that. Working with Ron on one side as an American officer made warden of Spandau Prison and with Tatiana on the other side serving as a Soviet liaison officer allows me to highlight so much of that American-Soviet divide that was going on in those years. There is a really stark difference in how they approach post-war life, which offers a lot of commentary on rebuilding and trauma in particular that I can't wait to sink my teeth into.
Another thing I'm superexcited about is getting to highlight the role of Soviet women in WWII and beyond through Tatiana, who is by all rights a very gutsy young woman turned wartime leader but left to flounder in the years following the war. Her worldview, her war experiences, her post-war struggles, etc. are all very much rooted in the research I did into these real-life women who rose to the occasion during the war but grappled immensely with their homecoming afterward. Tatiana has truly brought herself to life in these past years, and I can't wait for you all to get to know her properly.
For now, a small excerpt from the Berlin section (below the cut):
The bedroom is shrouded in near-darkness. Ron holds out a hand to stop the door from slamming against the wall. He swung it open with too much force behind the motion. Half-expected her to have locked it, somehow, with a key only she would have managed to find. Half-expected her to have disappeared, even though she would have balked at the height of the drop from window to ground. It’d still have been like her to try. And it’s not that he hasn’t considered the possibility of her staying, but the sight of her silhouette still gives him pause. Her head is in her hands. Ron can tell that much, even from this distance between door and mattress. The small lamp on the stool beside her illuminates her arms and crowns her hair with gold. Her knees are almost drawn up to her chest. There’s no indication that she’s heard the door open at all. He steps into the bedroom. Allows the door to click shut behind him, taking all of the living room’s light with it. Still she doesn’t respond. The quiet stretches out into the inky swathes of shadows that coat a part of her in deepest midnight blue. She doesn’t look up, even though the floorboards creak beneath his feet as he moves closer to the mattress. Her head remains in her hands. Her shoulders tremble slightly with each breath. There’s a small hitch in her inhales that leaves his own throat feeling strangely thick and parched, as if she’s taking all the air with her in that sound.
#the burning house fic#oc: tatiana#there's just so much to this fic I can sit here and provide commentary all day haha
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The Killing Vote (ep. 1-5 notes)
I’ve been enjoying this drama and I wanted to post some thoughts about it! This last week’s episode kept me on my toes! It’s a crime they only air a single episode per week, truly a crime aaaa
I don’t really know if people watching this drama are on tumblr but I’ll post here anyway!
Have a nice week!!!
(SPOILERS UP TO EPISODE 5!!!!)
I love Joohyun’s relationship with Kwon Seokju so far, the scene where she played for him Mozart’s Requiem (if I’m not mistaken) while we see her hanging Narae’s stuffed bunny was soothing! Seeing a different approach than Kim Muchan is nice!
KMC’s relationship with KSJ is really intriguing: we only get KMC’s (quite unreliable, that’s what makes it even more interesting!) pov in the first episodes with almost no dialogue between the two of them, and the recent episodes give us another side to their story through KSJ! I really wonder how their relationship got soured (especially from KMC) to the point KMC advises Joohyun not to get too close and get manipulated by KSJ: besides his own guilt for not being able to save Narae in time nor catch her murderer and the fact that the one he looked up to killed Byun Wootaek, something else must’ve happened for it to get THIS sour. What is going onnnnnnn? Or is it all an act? (and KMC/Park Haejin has some sad puppy eyes on par with Im Siwan's and Jung Haein's I can't haha) He affirms KSJ is arrogant and wouldn’t hesitate to take the law in his own hands if it can’t solve the problem while he himself pushes investigations with ways off the record to arrest culprits. He shows a bitter attitude in front of KSJ and Joohyun most of the time when he talks about him, but at the same time he also confided his guilt to Joohyun in private and seemed to regularly ask how KSJ was doing in prison during the past 8 years. I also get the feeling he was asking the warden if KSJ was regularly getting health checks by a doctor out of worry besides the investigation.
(This is some crack theory, but what if the one who murdered BWT was KMC and not KSJ? At this point, the narration is really unreliable so I wouldn't even be surprised!)
On that subject, I wonder if the drama will address KSJ’s health issue with his collapsed lung/asthma again ; his medical visit also seemed shot in order not to show the doctor’s silhouette at all, I wonder if this will hold any significance later on (it could be Jihoon’s grandmother, who knows!)? Not to mention Uhm Eungyeong, the culprit on ep2, was poisoned by Gaetal knowing she had asthma????
When the judge ruled Byun Wootaek’s acquittal (ep4), his gavel (a symbol of the justice) was shot struck right in front of KSJ’s silhouette, above his head, as if justice itself crushed KSJ. A similar symbolism is used in ep5’s Killing Vote:
The flashbacks are beautifully shot, ep4 was really moving. This scene’s lighting furthered the tragedy: it’s as though the orange light and the blood on Narae burn into KSJ and KMC’s profile as they find her, contrasting with Narae and the background’s cold tones:
Also when KSJ recalls how he murdered BWT, the same orange hue colors the shots.
In ep5, we finally hear the voice of a man who is thought to be Gaetal, when he’s talking to KMC over the phone. The opening shows the cast’s profiles, but there’s this one character we haven’t seen yet:
The man in question could totally be this character that wasn’t introduced yet! He’s probably the ‘executor’ of the Killing Vote, who was chatting with the teacher Lee Minsu.
I think Gaetal is definitely not the work of only one person: there’s at least the executor, tech-savvy people organizing the vote (the stream, the text messages, the hacking, …), the one on the stream (or maybe there’s more than one on the stream, a different one per case because the tone and attitude are never the same: agressive, vengeful, or bubbly, or caustic…) and perhaps someone in the police.
The teacher could be Fan no. 1 and/or Gaetal (if it’s not the same person/group): In ep4, we learn KSJ’s « Fan no. 1 » (1호팬, [ilho fan]) regularly sent him letters which would describe in details how the culprits subject to the Killing Vote would be ‘judged’. In ep3, the teacher talks to this ‘executor’ under the pseudo ‘justice15’: if 15 is read with the sino-korean numbers for 1 (일 [il]) and 5 (오 [oh]), the pronunciation would be close to ‘no. 1’, so this could not be a simple coincidence. Also ‘justice’ could be a taunt directed towards KMC’s vision of justice (he uses 정의 to describe his ideal of justice to KSJ) since he seems to deeply resent KMC.
Gaetal uses KSJ and KMC’s words (‘devils deemed innocent’, ‘rational justice’) and interestingly, another character who talks about rationality is the assemblywoman (‘rationality, moral sense and mothers are stronger than the law’)!
Also, this dude is on some twisted christian trip: in ep4, we get a glimpse of the teacher’s tattoo, a cross on his chest that reads… ‘My daddy My hero’… which was what Narae used to say to her father (her hero, making her safe because he’s always there to protect her) and a part of her room’s decoration…
Well, if he killed Narae and his mother made Byun Wootaek the scapegoat for every crimes he committed this far, something must have gone wrong this time for him (and his mother) to deeply resent KMC to the point of wanting to kill him: they managed to pull the strings of the police and judicial system, but KMC must have discovered Lee Minsu was the real culprit (perhaps after KSJ killed BWT) and tried to kill him, which might’ve worsened his heart condition somehow.
(And it’s interesting how the second screenshot shows the teacher discarding his now bloodied watch in disgust after hearing KMC saying ‘I was willing to break rules to catch this heinous criminal as soon as possible’ mmmmh…)
Just as Captain Oh completely denied his liability in ep5, he must have felt wronged, Narae’s case being the only one that 'sullied' him (and this must be why he changed names, from Lee Yunseong to Lee Minsu). Associating the accusations he must’ve faced because of Narae’s case and KMC to the Passion of the Christ in a sick, twisted way, he must’ve thought this tattoo as his own crucifixion leading to his rebirth/his revenge through the Killing Vote?
If the teacher is the mastermind behind the Killing Vote, choosing culprits involved in CSE, SA and CA so far for the votes could be: 1 — to mask his true identity, seemingly siding with true justice while he’s one of those he judges. Also, choosing keywords associated to BOTH KSJ and KMC could be to mislead the police to believe Gaetal is close to KSJ and both KSJ and KMC to suspect one another 2 — a sick way to play with KMC’s concept of justice and using KSJ's trauma (and KMC) ; 3 — to hide the final objective of the Killing Vote: since he gives the public a pretty convincing and sophisticated fact-check all the circumstances surrounding the culprits’ crimes (Gaetal even said in one of their streams that a culprit wouldn’t be subject to the vote if their crimes weren’t true), this could lead the public to believe every case would be exposed truthfully. Which means one of these cases could be fabricated and nobody would realize it at first. If the teacher organized the Killing Vote to get back at KMC (this also seems to benefit his mother’s campaign), perhaps the last vote would accuse KMC or KSJ of Narae’s murder (since no culprit was found guilty) or another crime.
At his final trial, KSJ accused ’the police who released BWT because they cared more about their performance’. We now know the police commissionner, KMC’s superior and the assemblywoman were all linked somehow to what happened 8 years ago. We also got a flashback of Choi Jinsu, KMC’s colleague who was also the detective in charge in both Narae and KSJ’s case, who gave KMC the hint of Byun Wootaek being the culprit. KMC, unlike him, ‘isn’t interested in politics’… He also recognized the teacher as Lee Yunseong, potentially his name before murdering Narae. In ep5, Joohyun automatically ruled CJS out of the suspect list because he’s not close to KSJ… If the premise that Gaetal must be close to KSJ is wrong, then his involvement could be possible: perhaps he was ordered to tamper with the procedure and the pieces of evidence during the two cases? Also, I wonder if KMC’s reputation will get addressed, his superiors must’ve pressured him to follow unofficial orders or he got to discover these orders (eg. maybe in Narae’s case?) and ever since he’s the man to ask for to do the dirty work? Or KMC could have deliberately gained his ‘Wipeout’ reputation to get closer to the truth of what happened 8 years ago?
In the first episode, the video test Joohyun found on Joomin’s laptop is named ‘Lrae091515’: if the drama takes place in 2023, the tragic events surrounding KSJ, KMC and Joohyun ‘8 years ago’ would have taken place in 2015! Could this refer to the final day of KSJ’s trial (or the day Narae was killed)? The pseudo ‘justice15’ could also be a reference to that date.
As for the ‘Lrae’… It could be a wild WILD guess but ‘Lrae’ could be ‘irae’ as in Dies Irae/day of wrath (capital i looks like a lowercase L), which is a sequence in Requiem mass!
The video test was only found on Joomin’s laptop when all the Internet cafe computers got the virus: the one who hacked the computers likely targeted Joomin or her sister, a police officer deliberately.
The tag in Narae’s room (‘the 13th was wrong’):
(It’s also a bit disturbing the tag was sprayed right on top of the ‘My daddy My hero’…)
— the narrative makes us think the tag refers to the 13th failed stab but it could be something else entirely (and perhaps KSJ is keeping this hint to himself?) — if the christian subtext truly exists in this drama (especially with the teacher’s tattoo), 13 is a number often linked in superstitions to the Cena, Judas (who betrayed Jesus, thought to have been the 13th guest to sit down to the Last Supper) and bad luck: whoever tagged this maybe wanted to signal KSJ the man he killed wasn’t the true culprit.
There is also a similar version in the norse mythology I found here:
« In his book “Extraordinary Origins of Everyday Things,” Charles Panati traces the concept of the cursed back to Norse mythology, when Loki, the god of mischief, gate-crashed a banquet in Valhalla, bringing the number of gods in attendance to 13. Deceived by Loki, the blind god Hodr was tricked into shooting his brother Balder, the god of light, joy and goodness, with a mistletoe-tipped arrow, killing him instantly. » And… we see the teacher communicating through the ‘Loki’ network (a wordplay for what would be Tor I guess, just as Apple would become a pear on laptops in media haha)!
(This is quite a reach, but for posterity in the opening, the 13th character shown is KMC, and in reverse order Jihoon haha)
The tag neither the news articles on Narae and KSJ’s cases weren’t in Gaetal’s video test:
idk how to explain, but I get the feeling that person A (who leaked the video), B (the Gaetal we see on the video), C (the Gaetal who’s now organizing the Killing Vote) & D (who tagged the wall and pinned the news articles about KSJ and Narae) could be different characters with respective objectives too. The drama highlights a bit too much the premise that Gaetal is one single individual that’s close to KSJ haha At the very least, whoever leaked the video knew someone else, especially KMC, would eventually be able to recognize its contents (‘devils deemed innocent’, Narae’s room and her stuffed bunny). Also for posterity, KMC was the one who ostensibly redirected KSJ’s attention to the picture of the tag on the wall.
The assemblywoman and the teacher both have a habit to touch their ear sometimes (eg. when she talked to him about KMC ; when the teacher was watching the student during PE). Jihoon also did it right after the teacher left: was it to try to reproduce what he did to understand what he was watching or is he linked to them?
At the very least Jihoon seems to know some things about the Killing Vote, the teacher as well as KMC:
— In ep1, he bumped into Joohyun as he went to retrieve one of the cups the teacher seems to make a collection of.
On the cup, there’s an ’S’ graved on it, just as the telltale sign of the Killing Vote is the character ㅅ/siot (시옷), the first character of 사형 (death penalty/capital punishment).
— He seems to know more than he lets on about the Killing Vote and keeps staring at the teacher (as though he knows his past crimes, eg. the closeups on the teacher grabbing/borderline groping Joomin’s shoulder, watching the students during PE etc.).
— He seemed startled when Joomin talked about ‘zombie PCs’.
— In ep3, Jihoon says: « I think [he] took it too far this time. » right after he saw KMC being alive and the man with the cap escape (which could totally be this character in the opening we’ve not yet seen). In Korean, the subject is often omitted and deduced from the context, it’s the case here: the drama keeps the ambiguity on whatever Jihoon meant here.
— Him being Narae’s friend would also make sense: as Narae was 8yo, she would be around Joomin and Jihoon’s age if she was still alive. There’s also Narae’s drawings that keep being showed, a boy/young man is always drawn on it.
As a child’s representation of adults and children could be inaccurate (the height, physical appearance, etc.), the characters we see on her drawings could be alternatively KMC (who was close to KSJ and given KSJ’s answer, also doted on her daughter), KSJ, a boy Narae used to play with (it could be Jihoon), the teacher or BWT, the son of the driver and the housekeeper who were also close to Narae and KSJ.
The assemblywoman asked her assistant to observe her son closely: I guess that refers to his health but it’s also to make sure he doesn’t commit crimes anymore. She also said to her son he definitely knows she’s ready to do anything to make Gaetal join her so that her campaign is successful: this + joking on TV how a mother is above the law suggest she definitely pulled strings to save their reputation (eg. using BWT as a convenient scapegoat ; tampering with the trials ; changing his son’s name etc.).
Joohyun thinks Gaetal acts like a hacker. That would also make Jodan (in ep5, he revealed he was arrested for hacking), Jihoon, the teacher and Joohyun herself suspects!
KSJ’s interest in Joohyun is curious: he even looked into her background once he met her & seems to focus on her habit to scratch her scar ; KMC’s comment on how unusual KSJ’s behavior was (specifically requesting Joohyun to communicate with ; negotiating his pardon — while he didn’t regret what he did at all) makes me think that: — in the letters or in some other way, Gaetal must’ve instructed him to obtain a pardon (perhaps they even told him to get rid of the letters to make him indispensable to the police) — Gaetal must’ve told him he would seek the truth to what happened to Narae: for someone who didn’t regret avenging her daughter, revealing Byun Wootaek was a scapegoat and the true culprit is roaming free out there would be plenty enough drive for him to find a way to get out of prison — whoever they are, Gaetal must’ve an ulterior motive to involve Joohyun, KSJ and KMC together
The first episode showed similar shots of KSJ and KMC (same backlighting, same low-angle shot, KSJ avenging his daughter and KMC lashing out on Bae Gicheol to stop him from abusing his wife):
I wonder if we’ll get to see KMC’s relationship with the woman on his photo (likely his mother), this is probably the only shot we get of him smiling not out of spite ;;
For Mu in Muchan, one of the hanja that can be given as a name is 橅, which means law, and it’s ironic given how the law failed him and KSJ ; sometimes characters are given names that will hold meaning in their development eg. Donghoon & Jian in My Mister ; Dongsik and Juwon in Beyond Evil.
For Ju in Seokju, there is 澍, which means timely/long-awaited rain ; rain has marked 2 important events in KSJ’s life: when he discovered his daughter’s body and when he was arrested by KMC after murdering Byun Wootaek ; there’s also 炷 which means wick, aligning with the OST lyrics (a fire burning in one’s eyes)
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𝟎𝟎𝟎 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐂 𝟏 — 𝐁𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓.
Song: Be My Guest (Azari ft Kaai Yuki & Flower)
Key: Lyrics in pink, romaji in green, descriptions in black
[ Before the music starts, the opening shot is of both wardens looking at the camera. Shiki, a young woman with strawberry-blonde hair and a warm smile on her face, takes a drag from her cigarette and blows the smoke at the camera. The screen darkens as it transitions, the music beginning. ]
You’re without an umbrella, No, no, kasa mo sasezu ni No, no,
[ The screen reveals Mary, a timid prisoner with long white hair and clothing reminiscent of a maid outfit. She's looking offscreen, uncertain about the situation. ]
And your Eyes are closed fusagaru Eyes
[ As Mary’s eyes shut, a pair of red eyes open in the background. ]
If you can’t go home, then you, too, can Be my guest kaerenai nara anata mo Be my guest
[ Shiro, the other warden, reaches out his hand towards Ryuko. ]
My, a well-done, lovely, plastered-on smile? yoku dekita haribote no kirei na egao?
[ The next prisoner, a shorter girl with red hair named Choko, appears just as Mary's image fades from the screen. On the instrumental whistle, her visible eye closes, and the outlined silhouette of a microphone appears behind her for a split second. ]
You can’t get comfortable in front of others, so you, too, can Be my guest hitomae ja kuzusenai anata mo Be my guest
[ Here, Shiki holds out her hand towards her. On the instrumental whistle, the screen goes dark once more. ]
It’s the agreed-upon time, but no one came to meet you? yakusoku no jikan demo mukae ga konai?
[ Here, two prisoners appear on screen at once: Ryuko, a taller woman with short navy hair and a displeased expression; and Kaede, a shorter girl with glasses and black hair tied into twin ponytails, appearing adorable next to her. Ryuko stands on the left side of the screen, while Kaede stands on the right. On the instrumental whistle, their eyes shut. The outlined silhouettes of a man and child appear behind Ryuko, while the mirrored silhouettes of what seems to be Kaede herself with shorter hair appear behind Kaede. ]
You can’t go off the rooftop, so you, too, can Be my guest okujou kara derarenai anata mo Be my guest
[ In the center of the screen, both Shiki and Shiro appear, outstretching their hands towards the two prisoners. On the instrumental whistle, the screen darkens as it transitions to the next scene. ]
Like a black cat, I Step���n step’n step kuroneko no you ni Step'n step'n step
[ Shiro leads his two prisoners, Choko and Kaede, down a path towards the right side of the screen. ]
Haphazardly, I Tap’n tap’n tap teatari shidai ni Tap'n tap'n tap
[ Shiki, meanwhile, leads the other two prisoners, Mary and Ryuko, down a path towards the left side of the screen. ]
I bring you along with a Snap’n snap’n snap anata o tsurete Snap'n snap'n snap
[ The two wardens appear in the center of the screen, with their appointed prisoners on either side of them. On each “snap,” one silhouette of a prisoner appears on each side, meaning that by the end of the line, all ten prisoners are on screen. ]
Dancing with a practiced gait odori nareta ashidori
[ All ten prisoners do a dance on screen on time to the music, while the wardens stand in the background. ]
Despite appearances, our firm is purely pacifistic kou miete heisha wa aku made heiwashugi
[ All of the prisoners have their designs revealed by this point. On the left side of the screen, to the left of Shiro, are the following five prisoners: Mary, Ryuko, Leo, Abigail, and Koji. On the right side of the screen, to the right of Shiki, are the other five: Choko, Kaede, Iori, Kazuhiko, and Mayumi.
During this line, the background changes, becoming what will soon come to be known as the main area of the MILGRAM prison instead of the forest it was before. ]
We’re quite clear in regard to sales quotes and support omitsumori ni sapooto made meikaku ni
[ Signs appear on screen, sort of like crossroads, indicating the three trials and undetermined outcomes. Each sign has the words “guilty” and “innocent” written. ]
But since we’ve just started out, it’s impossible to make allowances tada hajimeta nara tekagen wa muri
[ The prisoners then appear in their straightjackets instead of their normal attire. Their expressions revert to the ones in their official full body artworks. ]
So please, stay up late tonight, Stay up, please douka kon'ya wa osoku made Stay up, please
[ The screen suddenly gains a blue, night-ish filter over it. On the line “Stay up, please”, the screen goes dark in three sections on time with the line. ]
You aren’t friends with them, but you can’t stay away? tomodachi janai keredo hanarerarenai?
[ The background becomes the forest from before. Two prisoners appear on the screen at once: Leo and Iori. Leo seems to always be smiling at the camera, while in contrast to him, Iori seems to feel nervous around the camera and has a timid expression.
On the instrumental whistle, outlines of silhouettes appear behind them as their eyes shut: Leo's silhouettes depict three people, while Iori’s silhouette is that of a cross. ]
You give in so obediently, so you, too, can Be my guest orikou ni akirameru anata mo Be my guest
[ Shiro and Shiki’s hands reach out to the prisoners simultaneously. On the instrumental whistle, the screen changes. ]
There was enough for everyone, but they were one short? minna fun atta noni hitotsu tarinai?
[ Abigail and Kazuhiko are the next prisoners to appear. Abigail is a heavier-set woman with long, green hair; Kazuhiko's blue-almost-black hair falls in a curtain, covering his eyes. His expression is displeased, yet apathetic.
On the instrumental whistle, two new silhouettes appear: behind Abigail, the outlined silhouette of a dog appears; behind Kazuhiko, the outlined silhouette of a young boy appears. ]
You won’t be suspicious of anyone, so you, too, can Be my guest dare hitori utagaenai anata mo Be my guest
[ Shiro and Shiki’s hands reach out towards the prisoners. On the instrumental whistle, the screen transitions once more. ]
On the way home, a detour - the aroma of butter kaerimichi mawarimichi bataa no kaori
[ The final two prisoners, Koji and Mayumi, appear on either side of the screen. On the instrumental whistle, silhouettes appear: behind Koji, the outlined silhouette of a bridge appears; behind Mayumi, the outlined silhouette of a gun appears. ]
And a gentle, laughing voice says, “Someday, you’ll Be my guest” atatakai waraigoe itsuka wa Be my guest
[ Instead of the wardens reaching out their hands, the outline of a pair of white smiles appears in the background. At the very last second, the background changes from the forest to MILGRAM once more before the song ends, the visuals disappearing in a puff of pink cigarette smoke. ]
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Fanwork creators self rec! When you get this, reply with your five favorite fics/art/podfics/etc. that you've made, then pass on to others. Let’s spread the self-love 🌼
Ohhhh let's see! I've been drawing mostly original art these days (never thought I'd be that person but here we are xD) but that makes it all the more fun to dig up some fanworks!
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This Skyward Sword piece! Spent hours and hours painting every little detail, and enjoyed every bit of it.
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This CritRole piece! I'm glad the colors turned out as dreamy as I'd pictured them.
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The huge-ass Dragon Age medley I arranged and performed a couple years back! Proud of myself for actually finishing such a beast of a project.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/f4e752198df79d949f15e60848653b90/c0a857f1b6352128-73/s540x810/f7c28cf9948756a0be4a7aa89859c23be66ce3f9.jpg)
A more recent Dragon Age fan piece that was a lot of fun to make. Just finding references for the mabari alone was a blast xD
And lastly, let's add some writing to keep it varied. I don't do a lot of that, but this small moment of reassurance between two Wardens was something I really enjoyed putting into words.
With a gasp she sat up on her bed roll. Breathing erratically, it took her a moment to grasp her surroundings and distinguish reality from the blood-curdling visions slowly fading from her mind’s eye. She heard a voice, distant at first through the sound of her blood rushing loudly in her eardrums. “Oh- Maker, I… Sorry! It’s okay, it’s-” Her hands searched around in the darkness for familiar fur, but instead found skin; an arm, a chest, a face. “It’s okay, it’s just a dream. Hey, you can calm down now.” “Alistair…?” she muttered, as her eyes started to adjust to the darkness. She could make out his silhouette against the glow from the campfire. Her breathing slowly returned to normal as she remembered. She was at camp, somewhere between the Korcari Wilds and a town called Lothering. The fatal battle, Flemeth’s rescue, it all came back to her now. His voice was soft and hesitant. “I- I should… Sorry.” She only realised she was still holding on to Alistair’s arm when he got up. Instinctively she clasped the heavy fabric of his shirt, hanging on to that reassuring bit of warmth, of human contact, for just a little longer. “No!” she blurted. Alistair froze, uncertain.“I mean… Please.” She forced herself to let go of him, feeling like a complete idiot. They had known each other for what, a week? She certainly wasn’t the type to make friends easily, and it’s not like he had chosen to travel with her; a terrible twist of fate had forced them into each other’s company, along with the surly mage. Between Morrigan having to leave the Wilds unwillingly and Alistair dealing with the loss of his fellow Wardens there hadn’t been much room for friendly chats. And yet, as she sat there, beads of sweat on her forehead and the memory of the nightmare still fresh, the young Warden felt like the only real thing in a world turned violently upside down. “I saw you turning in your sleep and I thought…” He sat down beside her, close enough to feel his warmth in the cool night air but not so close that they touched. He glanced at her. “I mean, not that I was watching you sleep or anything. I’m not- That would be really creepy. It’s just that… I have them too.” She stared past the campfire, where she could vaguely see Morrigan’s tent in the distance. Her dog was strolling through the bushes, no doubt in search of places to mark his territory. “The nightmares, I mean,” he said. “I have them too. They can be pretty rough. It’s a Warden thing, but I guess nobody got the chance to warn you about them, so…” He tousled his hair. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have woken you.” “It’s alright,” she said, but her voice came out strange and soft. She cleared her throat and wiped a strand of hair from her face. “It’s alright,” she repeated, more firmly this time. “Thank you, Alistair.” He smiled. They sat in silence for a while, the gently crackling fire and distant sounds of forest creatures filling the air. There was so much to say, so many questions to be answered, but this wasn’t the time. Right now she just took comfort in his presence; warm, safe, near. After a while he stretched his legs. “I should let you get back to sleep, we have a long day of travel ahead of us. I’ll be over there when you… If you need me.” “Alistair?” She hated that she was about to ask him this, but she was too tired to stop herself. “Hm?” “Could you… Would you stay? In case I…” She felt like a child, asking her father to leave the bedside candle on. But Alistair caught her gaze and in that moment she knew he understood. She slept soundly the rest of the night, listening to Alistair’s steady breathing next to her. In the nights that followed the nightmares returned often, but the Wardens quickly grew into the habit of watching over each other. Turns out after you entrust your dreams to someone, making a friend is easy.
#eef talks#thanks for the tag rowan!#dragon age#zelda#critical role#making this post took me four attempts cause tumblr kept eating it jesus fuck
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@apocryphis asked: ‘ every day i am moved by the waves you made in my past. ’ (from neuvi!)
Hyperawareness is one of the states Dáinsleif has apprehended over the many centuries he was forced to coexist with an unkind curse and an even merciless corruption that permeates his body and threatens to make home of his mind and soul if he leaves it unchecked. Recent endeavors in Fontaine has muted this hyperawareness he carries every night as the echoes of the Abyss rise from the darkness of this world, nightmares cease to be as if they now seek to escape from luminescence brought by none other than a true, holy being, commander of life and sovereign of all waters.
Suffice to say, slumbering has become an activity lunarescent seraph learned to enjoy again, specially in moments where rest is mandatory should he desire to continue his self-impossed mission. It's a moment as natural as breathing that no longer brings him grief when in the presence of his beloved rex that, unbeknownst to him, became a warden of his sleep just by allowing him to sleep with him.
And even if hyperawareness is muted now, Twilight Sword is sentient to the lack of warmth he feels by the side of the bed, slightly colder to the touch of the back of his hand in search of the other's body. Albescent lashes flutter open as roseate lips part to heave an exhale, eyes veiled with sleep forming the silhouette of Neuvillette by the great windows. Sluggish as he feels, Dáinsleif crawls out of bed to seek the missing warmth he expected on the bed. Strong arms envelop around the other's midsection loosely as his face buries on the crook of his neck.
Sleepy as he is, he can make out a silent huff of a laugh at the gesture and so he answers with an incomprehensible murmur of his own, warms tightening a tad more as if complaining about Leviathan finding amusement in this. Not like it is motive of anger, far from the truth. It's a moment of bliss he wishes would extend until the infinity of time, and that he would allow himself to indulge in this joy more than he does.
◜Every day i am moved by the waves you made in my past.◞
Roseate lips press a gentle kiss on the column of his neck in answer that he listened first, while his still tired mind processes his words and builds a coherent answer of his own. Albescent lashes flutter open to reveal sapphire irises above the Iudex's shoulder, warm and joyful that he would cause anything of importance in his life, let alone that it would move him so. ◜Positively, I pray.◞ A hint of laugh is woven with his next exhale before he nestles his head on the dragon's shoulder blade.
Like two identical drops of water they are, and so fate saw fit that they cross paths to never take different roads again. Each fighting for what they think is just and fair in magnitudes hard to understand by others if not cognizant of the greatest scheme of the world, yet whose causes align towards one same goal. Dáinsleif has learned that he isn't solely what he decided to do and what he will leave behind, as Neuvillette isn't entirely his former life, his past nor his role as the Iudex either. In the end, they are two men yearning to be understood and loved, to be there personally or otherwise in times when they are on the verge of losing their path or sorrow becomes too much to bear, so the other may become the light that will guide them back to the main path.
First rays of sunlight escape the horizon, prompting Dáinsleif to open his eyes again and prop his chin over his lover's shoulder. ◜I have never found grander happiness since tragedy struck until I met you.◞ Now more wakened and aware, words denote earnest honesty. ◜Thank you... for entering in my life and allow me to permeate in yours, Neuvillette.◞
#apocryphis#◟༺✦༻◞ may your sorrow be washed away with tides deliverance; o' mighty dragon ┊neuvillette → apocryphis.┊#◟༺✦༻◞ let luminous feathers dance under sapphire rain of justice┊dáinsleif × neuvillette.┊#◟༺✧༻◞ what use has the veil of falsehood? ┊ask.┊#◟༺✦༻◞ τόμος θ: Λυκόφως οι θεοί που πέφτουν┊advent of ragnarök.┊#have a smol silly but wholesome moment uwu#because Dain would definitely search for Neuvi#if he were to leave the bed#no matter how sneepy he is#he has to leech on his warmth back#otherwise what's the point 😔#see Ventium#it was a loving threat 🥺
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Chapter 1: A New Horizon
[November 29, 7031, 4:48]
[3rd POV]
The soft glow from the slowly setting moons bathed the land far and wide. The moonlight spilled through the curtains of the house on the hill, the light just narrowly missing the face of a sleeping figure.
Careful and quiet footsteps approached the slumbering figure. A tall silhouette leaned over the sleeping individual.
Gentle hands lightly shook the sleeping human, the tall shapeshifter’s tail brushing lightly over the human's face making him groan. The shapeshifter used his tail to draw back the curtains behind him, allowing the moonlight to shine on the human’s face. Another groan escaped the human as he turned his head and buried it into his pillow.
“Honey,” The Shapeshifter whispered, “you need to get up.” He kept gently shaking the human. “Love, you need to get up and get ready; we have a gathering today.” The shapeshifter’s hand moved some of the human's hair behind his ear, revealing three scars. One on his upper lip next to the other two going down from his left cheek down part of his neck. His scars were only slightly darker than his pale skin. The shapeshifter began to rub the human's back.
“Five more minutes…” The Human lazily swatted his husband’s hand away. He grabbed his pillow and tried to bury his head further in. Despite the attempt, his fluffy hair greatly stuck out, his hair was mostly white with only an under section being black.
The Shapeshifter sighed. “Fine, you leave me no choice.” The Shapeshifter picked up the human removing any blankets and started carrying him, bridal style.
The human groaned. “Ugh, you win Timberlain, I’ll get ready,” he whined. He sleepily opened his eyes and slumped his head back, he watched upside down as they moved towards the bathroom.
“What time is it?” The groggy human asked as he was placed down in the bathroom doorway.
“It should be almost 5:00, and if we want to leave an hour early like planned we need to leave by 6:00,” Timberlain replied, ruffling the human’s hair.
“Hey! My hair is already messy!” The human protested, using his hands to cover his unruly hair. He paused for a second. “Hmm, is Söl awake yet?”
“I don’t think so, I’ll go wake up him and the kids, you just get ready, O’ Mighty Warden Akita,” he teased with a playful bow.
“Haha, how funny. Go wake everyone up.”
“Will do and I'll make breakfast too, Your Majesty.” Timberlain’s gin widened.
“Oh Shut up and get going!” The human pushed him away, chuckling.
Timberlain exited the room, heading down the hall. He stopped at the first bedroom door labeled ‘Lucifer & Lucille’. He knocked before opening the door. He was immediately greeted by an exhilarated German shepherd. He had a wide navy blue collar with flower patterns.
“Hey Dutch, how are you doing buddy?” Timberlain pet Dutch as he jumped up on him. “Dutch, go outside boy, go outside.” Dutch trotted around the corner of the hall, the faint sound of a dog door could be heard.
Timberlain leaned back into the room. “Lucifer, Lucille, come on you two get up, it’s an early morning.”
Lucille groaned, she waited a bit before sitting up. Her white medium-length hair and fur had been messy since she just woke up. Her irises were a beautiful turkish rose. What would’ve been her eye whites were a purple-ish onyx and her pupils were white. She has ram-shaped horns, they’re grey in color. Her scales shared the same grey color, they complimented her skin. which was a couple shades lighter than Timberlain’s. The scales appeared on spots all over her, the most prominent being on her face, arms, and covering her lizard-like tail. Her tail had a kink in it just before the fur that covered the end of it. Her ears resembled that of an elf’s.
She stretched and looked over at Lucifer, who remained asleep and snoring. She reached for a smaller pillow and threw it hitting him in the face. He shot up startled before looking around then shouting at Lucille.
Lucifer looked very similar to Lucille. But some big noticeable differences were, his hair was much shorter and it wasn’t wavy like Lucille’s. A scar ran vertically, from his cheek to his forehead, over his eye. His horns went out of his head diagonally then shot up and curved inward. The right horn was broken off halfway up, he had a golden cap covering it. His tail was longer than Lucille’s, his tail was long enough some of it would drag across the ground while her’s barely avoided the ground. The one not noticeable feature while he was in his bed was his height, he was two inches shorter.
Timberlain sighed. “Okay okay, enough yelling, you two get ready and wake your siblings up.” Timberlain stood in the doorway awaiting a response.
Both teens didn't say anything but nodded. Timberlain shook his head with a lighthearted smile. He closed the door and headed further down the hall until he reached the living room.
Passing the kitchen island, located near the living room, he snatched an apple from the fruit bowl on the corner. He looked to the loft above the living room and tossed the apple up hearing the thump as it hit something.
“Ow the fuck! What the hell was that for?!” …more like someone. A thud and stumbling of steps approached the loft railing. A Demi-human with the ears and tail of an opossum leaned over the railing. His fur was long and coarse, it covered his neck and reached down his back and chest. It was a grayish-white, his fur contrasted against his dark skin and hair. His emerald green eyes narrowed and his expression was less than pleased. “What was that for? You could’ve woken me up like a normal person!” His tail flicked around in annoyance.
“Well, would you have rather had Lucifer wake you up? I say my way is much calmer than his, you freeloader,” Timberlain said, a smug smile now plastered on his face.
“Oh fuck off Timberlain. I’m not a freeloader, I actually do stuff around here!” He said with a huff.
“Timberlain!” Akita shouted from the bedroom.
“Yes, Akita?” Timberlain replied.
“Be nice to Söl-leks!”
A smug smile now crept up Söl-leks face. Timberlain narrowed his eyes at Söl-leks. A brief tension hung in the air before Timberlain and Söl-leks burst out laughing, the tension immediately dissolving.
“Whatever loser, I'm making breakfast so get ready. And you're in charge of the kids today.” Timberlain said.
“On it boss!” Söl-leks replied, disappearing back into the loft.
Minutes passed, and the aroma of food lingered in the air.
Timberlain’s keen ears twitch at the incoming footsteps. He turned to see Akita, wearing his usual formal attire.
A desaturated strawberry pink sleeveless suit with a black long-sleeve dress shirt. His pants are a darker color of the desaturated pink, brown-ish grey boots with flower engravings. A light pink cravat with an emerald stone, long black fingerless gloves, and gold arm bracelets. His colorful earrings and colorful wedding ring are the only thing he wears every day. Even his eyes were colorful, his eyes were blue besides his left eye that had a brown spot due to sectoral heterochromia. Akita had a very colorful appearance. Timberlain loved it.
Akita hummed a tune, making his way over to Timberlain. He hugged the shapeshifter from behind, taking in the smell of breakfast.
He peeked his head out to the side of Timberlain. “Mmm, that smells amazing,” he praised.
Timberlain chuckled, “Well my cooking is amazing.”
“Indeed it is,” Akita said. He looked up to Timberlain with a soft smile. “I love you, you know that? I really really love you,” he whispered.
“Of course I know that, but I love you more, dragonfly.”
Akita giggled, “Again with dragonfly?”
“You love my nicknames,” Timberlain teased and started ruffling Akita’s hair.
“No, my hair! I already brushed it!” Akita whined, pushing away Timberlain’s hand. Akita sighed, “Have you woken up the kids?”
“Yeah I did, but it seems like they haven’t gotten up yet.” Timberlain sighed. “Could you make sure they’re up?”
Akita hummed in agreement, starting to head toward the kids’ rooms. However, he was abruptly stopped when something fell behind him, causing him to lose his balance.
Timberlain turned around to see the commotion. “Whoa, what happened?! Are you two okay?!”
“Huh?” Söl-leks looked confused before noticing Akita on the floor. “Oh shit Akita! I am so sorry!” He hurriedly helped Akita to his feet.
“I’m fine, don’t worry,” Akita reassured him, dusting himself off. “Are you okay Söl?”
“Yeah, I’m okay. Still, I’m sorry for knocking you over.”
“Don’t apologize, it was an accident and no one was hurt,” Akita replied. “Though, to make up for it, could you go make sure the kiddos are up? I’ll help Timberlain with breakfast.”
“Oh yeah! Sure thing.” Söl-leks hopped around Akita and down the hall.
Timberlain chuckled.
“What?” Akita said. “It makes him feel good to know he’s helping.”
“I know. Just get over here and help me.” Timberlain scooted over, inviting Akita to stand next to him.
Akita paused, examining Timberlain's appearance. He had a few fruit bat features—ears, wings and tail. His dyed blond hair had streaks of dark brown, matching the color of his ears, wings, and tail. Timberlain’s wingspan reached 27ft, and his tail was about 4 feet long with darker brown fur that started midway down. He wore a long black medieval oriental vest, his sleeves buttoned at his elbows. He also wore black pants, with a belt tied at his waist.
Once Akita got to Timberlain’s side he wrapped his wing around Akita. Both continued to make breakfast in silence enjoying each other's company.
—————
“Food!” Shouted two childlike voices, the sources quickly emerging from the hall.
Timberlain and Akita turned their attention to the children, Akita moved to intercept them.
“Whoa, whoa! Slow down there you two!” Akita chuckled, scooping up both children, one in each arm.
“Daddy!” The demi-human child wrapped his arms around Akita’s neck, not squeezing too tight. His webbed hands and feet were a peach sorbet hue. His tail swayed gently from side to side, boasting a fish-like appearance. The same peach sorbet colored the membrane of his odd-shaped ragged tail fin and siren-like ears. His ears perked up. Sporadic brown and white scales covered his deep almond-colored skin, most prominently around his face, neck gills, arms and legs, and his tail. He had golden honey-colored eyes and curly and dark brown hair, framing his youthful face.
“Dad!” The Porchino child clung to Akita’s arm, holding on tight. Her long and fluffy pacific grove pink fur covered entirely. Her hands featured three fingers each made of keratin hooves. Her feet resemble traditional pig hooves. She had small, dull tusk poking out from the edges of her mouth, white and well-kept. Her tail and snout were short for her age. Her eyes were entirely white, from the sclera to the pupil, a pure white.
Both children giggled with excitement as Akita carried them to the dining room, Lucifer and Lucille soon followed behind Akita. Yuri and Atticus sat down side by side at the round table, surrounded by seven seats.
Dutch scampered in from the backyard, greeted by scratches and pats from everyone.
“Hey Dad,” Lucifer greeted.
“Hi Papa,” added Lucille.
After setting the youngest two down, Akita greeted the twins. “Hello, Lucifer. Hello, Lucille,” he said, offering them both a hug. “How are you both this morning?”
“I’m doing fine, Papa,” Lucille replied, taking a seat next to Atticus.
“Fine, but it’s too early to be waking up,” Lucifer groaned, sinking into his chair.
“Well, I’m glad you're both doing fine. I'm gonna go help your father—” Akita was interrupted by a timely announcement.
“Look who has food!” Timberlain declared. He and Söl-leks carried breakfast dishes to the table. Akita got the drinks and brought them to everyone. Breakfast included pancakes, beef sausage, fish, bananas, strawberries, blueberries, scrambled eggs, water, milk, and orange juice.
The breakfast was made with specific diets in mind.
Timberlain, needs fruits with his food and enjoys sweet drinks.
Atticus's diet had to consist of some fish or insects and needed water to keep well hydrated.
Yuri, couldn't stomach eating meat.
Lucifer and Lucille's, diet consisted mostly of meat.
Akita, was lactose intolerant and wasn’t fond of any sweet drinks.
Söl-leks, wasn’t picky and had no dietary restrictions.
“Well, eat up, everyone!” Timberlain grinned, proud of his cooking.
“Thanks, Lain.,” Akita smiled in return.
“Thank you, Father,” chimed Lucifer and Lucille in unison.
“Thanks, Dad!” Atticus grinned.
“Thank you, Papa!” Yuri smiled from ear to ear.
“Thanks… Timberlain…!” Söl-leks exclaimed in between bites, laughter filled the room.
—[5:56]—
[Timberlain POV]
Akita he’d gone to get his horse, Osprey, from the public stable in the hills district. It was quite a walk, and I offered to get Osprey for him, but he was insistent on going himself. I entered Akita’s office, I needed to gather all necessary documents for the gathering. After collecting a few folders and loose papers, I carefully arranged them in a messenger bag.
Examining his desk, I found it in disarray, cluttered and unorganized. Some papers even lay scattered on the floor. I took it upon myself to tidy up, organizing how he does. I stacked the report documents from the request papers, lined up pencils and erasers neatly. However, it was odd - his favorite fountain pen was missing. My search led me to find it broken in the trash. Akita loved this pen, so I was thoroughly confused. I’ve noticed he’s been rather tense the last few days. I made a mental note to ask him later.
Lost in thought, I didn't hear Lucifer call my name at first.
“Father?” Lucifer’s voice broke my concentration as he peered into the room, his eyebrow was raised looking at me. “Is everything okay?”
“Oh yeah sorry, I was just thinking. What’s up Lucifer?”
“Dad is waiting for you out front.”
“Oh, thank you for letting me know. Let's go.” I discreetly stashed the broken fountain pen in my pocket as Lucifer and I headed outside.
[3rd POV]
Akita patiently waited outside the house alongside Osprey. Osprey had a striking cloud-grey coat with white markings on his face, muzzle, and legs. Steel-grey colored his rear blending into the cloud-grey. His mane shared the same steel-grey shade.
The creak of a door opening caught Akita’s attention, he turned to see Söl-leks and the kids exiting the house. Akita led Osprey closer to everyone, and Osprey extended his head towards them. The children showered Osprey with pats on his head and neck, he leaned further into all the affection.
Akita chuckled, his hand patting Osprey’s neck, “You love getting pets, don’t you?” He began to run his fingers through Osprey’s soft mane.
Akita glanced at the front door and back to everyone else. “Where's Timberlain?” He asked.
“He said he’d be out in a bit, just grabbing something.” Söl-leks replied.
Akita let out a sigh. “I’ll go get him.”
Lucifer offered to do so instead. “I can get him.”
“Well then,” Akita agreed with a smile. “If you want, go ahead and get your father.”
Lucifer disappeared into the house while those outside talked amongst each other.
Before long, Timberlain stepped outside, with Lucifer following behind.
“Look who finally showed up,” Akita quipped, his tone light-hearted.
Timberlain chuckled nervously. “We should get going.” He stood next to Akita.
Akita nodded, then turned to the kids, embracing the twins lightly. “Luci, Lu, as usual, you two help Söl-leks out today and ensure you two and your siblings get to school, okay?”
“Of course Papa,” Lucille affirmed.
Lucifer nodded and gave a double thumbs-up, “We’ll make sure to help out and get to school, Dad.”
Akita then turned to the younger pair. “You two will behave, won’t you?”
“Absolutely, Daddy!” Atticus grinned and offered a wonky playful salute.
“I’ll be a big help, Dad!” The piglin cheerily smiled, jumping up and tail wagging.
Akita turned to Söl-leks. “Can you hold down the fort while we’re away?”
“Certainly, who do you take me for?” Söl-leks replied confidently, his thumb pointing to his chest. “I’ll have everything under control, and I'll make sure everyone gets where they need to be.”
The kids exchanged mischievous glances, causing Söl-leks to gulp nervously. Akita and Timberlain shared a chuckle.
“Very well, then. We’ll be leaving.” Akita said.
With that, Akita mounted Osprey, signaling the horse to start walking by a gentle squeeze. Timberlain swiftly joined Akita, holding on securely. As they left, Akita and Timberlain turned to wave their goodbyes. With hands raised high and shouting byes, they bid farewell, and the waving hands and returning shouts followed them as they rode off.
—[9:23]—
The warm, now risen morning sun cast a radiant glow on Akita and Timberlain. A gentle breeze blew and ruffled their hair, making it a pleasant day.
Timberlain found himself lost in thought at the base of the stairs while Akita walked Osprey to the Mountain Stables. Until a sudden tug at his sleeve brought him back to reality.
Akita looked up at Timberlain with a hint of concern in his eyes. “You okay Lain?” Akita questioned.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Timberlain replied. “Should we head up, your majesty?”
Chuckling, Akita responded, “Hahaha, let’s go, you doof.”
The higher they got the cooler the breeze became. As they climbed, their lively chatter changed into a quieter conversation. Near the mountaintop, they spotted a large open structure with an oval stone base, a wooden domed roof, and quartz pillars connecting the two. Some overgrowth partially covered the building. The steps into the structure were clean and worn, rope railings guarded the sides. There were other steps to the right of the building, they led down somewhere else.
Stepping inside, a long round-edged table with twelve chairs, six of which were thrones. Each throne had distinct characteristics, materials, and colored cushions, as well as matching chairs placed to the right of each throne.
At either end of the table, thrones occupied the space. The throne nearest to the entrance was made from a weathered grey stone, its yellow padding contrasted against it. Overgrowth and cracks covered its surface. The throne opposite was crafted from dark oak, its cushions pristine white.
Along the longer sides of the table there, two thrones spaced equally apart each side. To the right of the yellow-padded throne, a cold stone throne a pale goldenrod hue, it had purple upholstery and petite amethyst crystals. On the right of the purple throne sat a throne made of a walnut tree, its seat a forest green.
To the left of the yellow throne, a throne constructed from deep blackstone displayed a royal red seat. Adjacent, to the left of the red throne, resided a throne made of bright white quartz, its seat draped in serene blue.
Above each throne, grand enchanted banners swayed gently. These banners matched the hues corresponding to the seats beneath them.
While the banners of the thrones along the long sides depicted a dark silhouette of a person cradling an orb, mirroring the seats’ colors, the banners above the dark oak and grey stone thrones told different tales. The dark oak throne’s banner displayed a smudged silhouette, while the grey stone throne’s banner was severely charred and barely recognizable.
Akita's attention turned to the three individuals already seated there.
“Well, I didn’t expect anyone to be here yet, but it seems we weren’t the only ones who thought of coming earlier today,” Akita spoke, shifting the attention from the three to him.
The shapeshifter, lounging in her cracked and overgrown throne, responded with disdain, “Well, well, well. If it isn’t the human and it’s pest. Surprising natural section hasn’t picked you off, yet.” She smirked.
Timberlain rolled his eyes, he paid her little mind.
“Hmm, always the jokester, Goddess Willow,” Akita remarked, standing to the right of the demi-god. His gaze shifted towards the empty sea beside Willow. “Could Paiden not attend today?” Akita inquired.
Willow stood tall at 6 feet 8 inches, matching Timberlain’s height. A pair of large, dark grey hare ears adorned her head, blending with her dark charcoal hair. Her hair was styled in a choppy mullet with a side bang that swept to her right. Concealing her face was a two-toned mask, half black and half white. Draped in a carbon-black sleeveless bodysuit, Willow wore belt cargo pants secured by a belt and zippers at the knees and lower calves. A side bag, covered with pure gold chains and silver clips, hung at her side, it contained various trinkets she had found. Her feet wore obsidian-black combat boots with heels that extended to her lower calves. Willow’s arms were enveloped in fingerless gloves, reaching up to her mid-shoulders. Her wings, resembling those of a harpy eagle, were massive and well-kept, boasting an impressive wingspan. Although she possessed a rabbit tail, it resembled that of a deer and was often hidden. In certain lighting, her form shimmered with hints of purple hues.
“Oh, please, I’ve told you there is no need for this ‘Goddess’ talk. Makes me feel old,” Willow responded with a sigh, resting their head in her palm. “Paiden got caught up with his own work, and I managed to catch Victoria on the way up here.” Willow gestured toward one of the Porchino off to her left.
“Good morning, Empress Victoria and Royal Guard Ezra. I assume you both arrived early to welcome the new Amethian Emperor?” Akita greeted.
Victoria, a 6-foot-tall Porchino, sat in her throne of blackstone. Her light pink fur faded to a fuzzy brown hue on her arms, legs, tail, back and neck. Her fur, short with a soft undercoat, concealed her body beneath a bristly upper coat. Her fingers and feet were made from keratin hooves, while her eyes gleamed pure white, a common Porchino trait. She adorned herself in a ruby red long-sleeved dress, gracefully sweeping the floor if she stood. A garnet-red organza fabric enveloped her chest and arms of the dress, accentuating her royal attire. A black silk sash encircled her waist, and her long, curled tail elegantly emerged from the garment. A golden gorget adorned her neck, engraved with simple patterns. On her shoulders, she wore epaulets, each bearing the royal emblem of her empire. Victoria garnished herself with an array of golden jewelry, including tusk studs, a nose ring, a necklace, and earrings adorned with red rubies. Her ears sparkled with small hoops and studs, while bracelets dazzled her wrist. Various braids and beads within her tail fur told her story, from birth to marital status, and even the day of her coronation.
Ezra, a mere 3 inches taller than Victoria, exuded a melanistic look with his coal-black fur. His fur mane encircled his neck, concealing any scars that may have marked his chest and neck beneath its bushy and coarse texture. His tusks, a source of immense pride in Porchino culture, were impressively long, curving almost in a complete circle. Burn scars covered the left side of his face and his left arm, while his arms and legs boasted short fur. His visible scars are outlined with golden paint. His left eye was missing, his right was a deep red featuring a golden pupil, and his tail, broken two-thirds of the way down, concluded his tail fur was like a fan. He sported a black short-sleeve shirt paired with pants extended only to his knees. A belt wrapped around his waist, crowned by a golden buckle. Gold-plated armor protected his shoulders, secured by leather straps connected to his front chestplate. Similar golden plates, fastened with dual leather straps, rested on his arms and legs. A tuft of fluffy white fur protruded from his right shoulder plate. Like Victoria, Ezra garnished himself with a multitude of golden jewelry, including bracelets, a nose ring, earrings, tusk studs, tail and tusk rings, and a plethora of braids and beads, each carrying a piece of his story, from birth to his esteemed role as a Royal Guard.
“Good morning to you too, Akita!” Victoria greeted with a cheerful smile and a wave. She comfortably sat in her red cushioned throne, with Ezra in the chair next to her.
“Morning, Akita,” Ezra’s deep, gravelly voice dominated the room. “We figured a more formal greeting was in order before Aero and Rowan arrived.”
“You know those two can be quite…” Victoria added, her voice trailing off.
Akita nodded and replied, “Of course,” as he made his way to the seat across from Willow’s. Timberlain followed suit.
The long table was decorated with several items. Four candles, matching the hue of each throne’s cushions, were placed to the left of each ruler's throne. A black table runner made of cloud cotton stretched from Akita’s end to Willow’s. In the tables center laid a map, marking the locations of the countries or their respective portal.
Willow resumed her conversation with Victoria, their interactions were very friendly. Ezra’s disapproving gaze remained fixed on Willow, a glare that Willow was unfazed by.
Soon, the sound of an unfamiliar British voice drew nearer, accompanied by persistent whining.
The approaching figures, two Wysterlings, emerging from the second set of stairs. The shorter Wysterling halted his complaining, noticing the stares he was receiving from those already present.
“Oh shit, there’s people here already? Do you lot have anything better to do? Why are you all here already?” The shorter one remarked.
The smaller Wysterling possessed very dark purple skin and tolopea hair. His bangs fell over his right eye, and the left side of his head was shaved. Light orchid scalera framed violet eyes, while lighter scars streamed down his face and neck. Short mandibles poked out of his lower jaw, sharp teeth were revealed as the edges of his mouth opened, and long ears rested on his head. Curved horns protruded from the top of his head, and his thick, long tail featured a fan of fur at its end. He wore a white, medium-sleeved button-down shirt with rolled-up sleeves, featuring a cutout in the chest that framed an Eye of Wystora resting within his chest. The eye displayed hues from cyprus to light green, with an intimidating black slit pupil. His long black pants complemented his attire, and he dressed himself with gold and silver jewelry with amethyst crystals, including snake bites, eyebrow piercings, earrings, bands, and bracelets. A crown crafted of gold, wrapped around his head, adorned with amethyst jewels.
The taller Wysterling stood silently, his tail flicking in agitation.
Victoria rose from her seat and initiated conversation to break the awkward silence. “Hello, I’m Empress Victoria Quin of The Inferno Empire. It’s nice to meet you, Emperor Soetsu,” she said, offering a respectful bow to his ruling.
“Bloody hell, that son of a bitch,” The shorter Wystering muttered with a scowl. “Yeah no, it’s Emperor Soup, first off. That royal dickhead you’ve been meeting with can’t ever listen.” He sighed. “And yeah, it’s a pleasure…”
The bitterness in his tone was palpable as Victoria took her seat, leaving an air of unease in the room.
“Soup, huh? Sounds familiar, perhaps a kind of food. Ha, typical,” Willow chimed in, their tone tinged with mockery. They huffed, raising a brow at the noticeable height difference and continued, “Seems like some got the downside of the genetics, eh? It’s something you and Shorty over there have in common.” Willow gestured towards Akita before trailing off, her attention drawn to the small fox poking its head from her lap.
Soup let out an exasperated sigh, muttering under his breath too low to decipher. His eyes narrowed, shooting piercing glares in Willow's direction.
Akita, sensing the growing tension, intervened. He rose from his seat and addressed Soup. “My apologies, for any miscommunication, Soup. Soetsu was the name we were told, we’re more than willing to use your preferred name,” Akita said, bowing respectfully. “I’m Akita Hawk, Warden of The Republic of Euphoria.” His introduction seemed to lessen some of the room’s tension.
With impatience evident, Soup responded curtly, “Yeah. Cool. I’m the Emperor of Amethium. Now is this everyone? Can we get this gathering thing started yet? I’d rather head home as soon as possible. This shit already seems dreadfully boring.”
Willow scoffed. “No, can't you see some chairs are empty? Or is that height getting to you? Two more leaders will be joining us.” She remarked, plucking a bit of moss from their throne. “So much for new ruler,” They muttered under their breath. Stretched her wings briefly, Willow then folded them down, redirecting their attention elsewhere.
Soup’s irritation boiled over, and he hissed, “Are you always a dick? This meeting is for rulers, isn’t it? Don’t you have an empire that should be worshiping you right now, Goddess Willow?” His ears pinned back, expressing his frustration openly.
Willow, seemingly unfazed, retorted with a sly tone, “What's the matter? Are you scared? Aren’t Wysterling meant to be big and scary? Then again, grumpy there looks more Wysterling than you do. He might even make a better emperor.”
Soup's growl intensified, it became more distorted, and the air around him chilled as his irritation grew apparent.
“Your majesty, I would suggest you calm down. Starting a conflict isn’t ideal for the Empire, with a Demi-god nonetheless,” The taller one finally interjected.
“Whatever!” Soup huffed, crossing his arms and avoiding eye contact as he plopped down on his throne.
For the next few minutes, hushed conversations happened among those seated near each other.
Until, Soup spoke, in his typically loud manner. “So what exactly are the candles for?”
“The candles represent each country,” Akita explained.
“So why aren’t they melting, except for that one?” Soup pointed to the yellow candles near Willow.
“Well, each set of candles are enchanted. They remain lit and don’t melt as long as a country stands and its people are alive. That’s why everyone’s candles, except the yellow ones, burn brightly.”
“Okay, so why is the yellow one still burning?”
“While the Arcanium Republic is destroyed, magic users still exist throughout the world. As long as they’re alive, the candles will never fully burn out.”
“Weird,” Soup remarked before returning to whatever he was doing before.
The room again fell into a stifling silence until the fluttering of wings disrupted the silence. Two figures landed on the edge behind Akita, with the taller shapeshifter shifting away his wings. They proceeded to their dark prismarine seats.
The moth shapeshifter, with a mild French accent, greeted everyone energetically. “Hey, everyone! How are you all doing? Me and Raven aren’t late, are we?” He asked.
“Aero and Raven, it's nice to see you! And no, you made it just in time,” Akita replied cheerfully.
Aero’s hair, a luscious shade of mulberry with grey lightly spread throughout his hair, cascaded in wavy locks, with a portion tied into a bun. He bore the features of a Luna moth, complete with antenna and ethereal wings. Dressed in a ruffled navy shirt embellished with rose and floral patterns, his lighter blue pants harmonized with his attire. Knee-high black boots added a touch of regal charm to his outfit, while his folded wings draped like a flowing cape behind him. His eyes shimmered in a pistachio hue, a striking contrast to the chestnut skin graced by the white fur along his neck. Atop his head, a golden crown rested just before his antenna, a symbol of his imperial stature.
Raven, on the other hand, had a slightly darker complexion than Aero’s. His dreadlocks, resembled the rich tones of rosewood, mostly gathered into a neat ponytail. Markings akin to a red panda adorned his body. His attire consisted of a black Sir Jones Frock coat paired with brown pants, perfectly complementing his coat color. His shoes matched in the same elegant shade. His pointed ears and the presence of a big, red, bushy, cream-ringed tail highlighted his unique features. Soft, thick fur adorned his face, chest and arms, keeping him warm upon the mountain.
As Aero glanced around the two unfamiliar Amethians caught his attention, he extended a warm greeting, “Why hello! You must be the new Amethium Emperor! Very nice to meet you! I’m Emperor Aero Reign of The Spiralis Empire.” With a polite bow, Aero took his seat, while Raven, silent but respectful, also bowed and settled into his chair.
Soup, seemingly unimpressed, rolled his eyes with his head in hand and muttered a begrudging acknowledgment. “My Nye, Yeah, nice to meet you. Though I really don’t want to be here, so don’t expect me to overflow with joy.” He snapped, waving his hands sarcastically.
Aero, taken aback, fell silent.
“Well, shall we start then?” Akita proposed.
“But Rowan and Amelia aren’t here. Shouldn’t we wait for them?” Victoria inquired.
“Well, yes, but those two are always late. We’ve started without them before; this time should be no different,” Akita replied.
Raven sighed and added, “We did warn them to be on time. It’s their fault for being late.”
“Is that a yes to starting, then?” Soup impatiently interjected.
Before Akita could respond, Willow jumped in, “You’re just awfully bitchy, aren’t you?” A taunting grin rising on their face.
Soup, baring his teeth, growled and began to exhibit signs of agitation.“You’re such a-”
“Let’s just start!” Akita intervened, attempting to diffuse the mounting tension.
“Whatever!” Soup slouched in his seat, arms crossed.
Victoria and Ezra then stood up to commence sharing the recent events and news of The Inferno Empire.
[11:06]
“Sir, we’re undoubtedly late.”
“That isn’t of concern right now, let’s just get there.”
The two individuals ascended the steps of the mountain until they reached the building. They walked behind Willow and Victoria, taking their seats between Victoria and Akita. Aero paused in his talking upon noticing their arrival.
Aero set his papers aside and warmly greeted, “Hello, Rowan! It’s lovely to see you! Where’s Amelia? And who have you brought with you?”
Rowans, standing tall at an impressive 6’4” for a human, possessed pristine pale skin. His black, shaggy, wolf-cut hair appeared both messy yet neat and clean styled, with semi-curtain bangs typically loosely pushed back atop his head, held in place by mousse. His facial hair included sideburns, a small chin beard, and a thin mustache. Streaks of grey gracefully accentuated his hair, while faint eye bags rested beneath scarlet red eyes. Rowan wore a black priest's attire with yellow accents and a blue stole adorned with the star of Amani. A golden necklace featuring the symbol of Amani’s star hung from his neck, and multiple golden and silver rings decorated his hands, with even a golden tooth to complete his ensemble.
Rowan briefly glanced at the onlookers before directing his attention to Aero. “Hello, Aero. Nice to see you too. I’m sorry for my tardiness—“
Soup interjected, “Who the hell are these guys? Are they the late ones we’ve been waiting for?”
Rowan calmly addressed Soup’s question, disregarding his blunt manner. “You must be the new Emperor of The Amethium Empire. You seem shorter than any other Wystering I’ve seen; is that a genetic problem, perhaps?” Rowan cleared his throat. “Regardless, you have a lot to live up to, and your attitude isn’t ideal for an emperor. You're just as unprofessional as everyone else here, so you’ll fit right in.”
Soup retorted sharply, showing his aversion to Rowan “You're a jackass just like that one,” gestured towards Willow, indicating he held no fondness for either of them.
Willow, from her relaxed position, chimed in lazily, “Hmmmm? Am I needed right now?” After a quick explanation from Victoria, Willow refocused her attention.
Rowan continued to press the issue, “You have an awfully foul mouth.”
The room fell into an uncomfortable silence, and Akita, once again, spoke up firmly, breaking some tension. “You two calm down; quit going for each other's throats and let’s continue.”
Rowan persisted, “Well, I’ll continue what I was saying before I was rudely interrupted.”
Akita intervened, signaling for Rowan to cease his verbal sparring. “Rowan, knock it off.”
Apologizing for his tardiness, and Amelia's absence, Rowan introduced the person seated beside him, “This is Elliot, he’s my right hand.”
Elliot has distinctive brown hair, neatly combed and reaching down to his shoulders, with a neat ponytail securing most of it. His piercing blue eyes contrasted beautifully with his lighter skin tone. He stood at 5’11”, slightly shorter than Rowan. Elliot wore attire similar to Rowan’s, although less ornate, he didn’t wear a stole. He sported a silver necklace featuring Amani’s star symbol.
Elliot greeted the assembly with a bow, expressing his apologies for their lateness, “It’s a pleasure to meet you all. I am terribly sorry for our lateness. I had some things I needed to do before we left, and our trip here isn't exactly short.”
Akita observed Elliot for a moment before leaning towards Timberlain. Other rulers greeted Elliot.
“Hey, Timberlain,” Akita whispered.
Timberlain replied in a hushed tone, “Yes, what’s up?”
Akita voiced his curiosity, “Has Rowan ever mentioned having a second-in-command?”
Timberlain responded with a sigh, “No, he hasn’t. I suppose he never saw fit to mention it? But then again, it’s Rowan, and he tends to keep things to himself.”
Akita shrugged. “Fair, still it’s just odd,”
“Well, Rowan’s an odd one.”
Their conversation was ended by a quiet giggle from Akita, but his mirth quickly faded when he noticed Elliot’s puzzled expression. In response, Akita offered an awkward smile and waved, while a Timberlain simply greeted Elliot with a wave.
Victoria, seeing an opportunity to proceed, urged, “Well, if all is settled now. Aero, please continue,”
“Of course!” Aero cleared his throat, rose from his seat and retrieved his papers once more. “As I was saying, there have been multiple reports of something lurking around the lower district, visiting each and every village within. Reports say that a heavy fog sets in before it appears, only emerging during the fog.”
Most in the room wore expressions of concern or shock.
“It has laid waste to countless shops, monuments, and even some castles. It has attacked almost every kingdom in the lower district, and it began months before it reached the villages outside the lower district. It has even targeted underwater villages and kingdoms. Its pattern is unpredictable, and we don’t know what its goal is, but many on the council believe it might be searching for something. We all fear that if it’s seeking something and doesn’t find it, it will tear the whole country apart and move on to the next.” Aero directed his gaze towards Akita and Timberlain. “Akita, Timberlain, I would advise you to keep a watchful eye in the coming months. This thing has shown aggression towards anyone who tries to stop it. So far, it has killed 267 people only injured 89. Please keep your country on high alert.” Aero’s expression was grave.
Akita, after sharing a concerned glance with Timberlain, turned his attention back to Aero. “Thank you for the warning, Aero. But may I ask if there’s any description of this thing causing terror?”
“I’m sorry, but no,” replied Raven. “Those who survived couldn’t see through the fog to identify anything. All they’ve reported is hearing distorted hisses and roars.”
“Unfortunate, indeed. We’ll be vigilant. Thank you again for the warning.” Akita said with gratitude.
Raven nodded, acknowledging their understanding.
“Of course,” Aero continued after shuffling through a few documents and other papers. “That’s the last of what I have to share today.” Aero and Raven took their seats and set aside their papers.
Akita and Timberlain stood up, ready to present their updates. Akita initiated, “To begin, I don’t have much to share today, as there’s mostly minor news not worth mentioning. One of the significant developments is that the next election is approaching next month.”
Victoria, with a touch of sadness in her voice, inquired, “You’ll be running again this year, won’t you?”
Akita smiled, though it carried a hint of uncertainty, “Yes, I will be, but the competition is tough this year, so there’s no guarantee of my return. Nevertheless, I’ll do my best.” He sighed, “I do have some troubling news to discuss, but I’ll let Timberlain take the lead, as he knows more information on this matter.”
Akita handed Timberlain a folder, who then spoke up, “A week ago, a farming village was attacked and burned down, with no survivors. We managed to apprehend the ones responsible, a group of six, consisting of two humans and four shapeshifters. We are yet to discover the motive behind this heinous act, as they refuse to speak. Our investigation is ongoing, as this could pose a significant threat. To prevent further attacks of this nature, we’ve bolstered the guard of other farming villages. Currently, we have no information about the attackers, aside from the fact that they all wore a peculiar pin.”
“The pin he’s talking about is this.” Akita retrieved the mentioned pin from his pocket and held it up for all to see. It bore a blood-red circle with two golden rings and a silver wolf head embedded. “No one on my council knows anything about this pin. Have any of you seen it before?” Akita inquired.
Aero was the first to respond, “I haven’t seen anything like it. Raven?”
“No, I haven’t either.”
Victoria requested, “May I see it?” Akita nodded, tossing the pin to her. She examined it briefly and showed it to Ezra. After a careful examination, Victoria shook her head. “I’m sorry, but neither of us have seen this before.”
Akita expressed his frustration with a groan, then turned to Rowan and Soup. “Rowan, Soup, have either of you seen this pin?”
Rowan replied, “No, I’ve never seen a pin of this style.”
Soup’s response was more colorful, “The fuck, hell no I’ve never seen it.”
Akita then addressed Willow, “Willow, I don’t mean to bother you, but may I ask you something?”
“Hm? Go ahead.” Willow’s ears perked up.
“I mean no disrespect saying this, but considering you’ve lived for thousands of years, have you come across this pin or its symbol before?”
Willow, with a playful grin, teased, “Calling me old, are you? I’m offended.” They chuckled, while Akita stammered in denial. “Hahaha! I’m pulling your leg curly, relax and stop being so formal, it’s rather tiresome. But sure, let me see the pin.”
Victoria tossed the pin to Willow, who inspected it briefly before responding, “In all my years, I’ve never encountered a pin like this nor its symbol. I can’t provide any information about it.” They nonchalantly tossed the pin back to Akita.
“Well, thank you anyway, Goddess Willow.” Akita expressed his gratitude, despite the disappointing response.
“Yeah, no problem, curly,” Willow responded casually.
With the questions regarding the pin concluded, Akita moved on to the next agenda. “Well, that was really all of what I had to share. Most of the other updates have remained consistent since our last meeting. Rowan, if you please.” As Akita and Timberlain took their seats, Rowan and Elliot stood to address the assembly.
“Well then,” Rowan started.
—[13:39]—
“…and that concludes all the reports from the last month for the Amethian Empire,” stated the taller Wysterling, setting down the binder he held.
“Thank you for the update, Oka. It seems the Amethian Empire is very well off!” Aero said with enthusiasm.
Oka stood imposingly at a towering height of 8’5”, towering over everyone in the room. His skin displayed a palette of black and grey, while his hair featured streaks of black and white. His mandible-like mouth opened similarly to Soup’s, and his long, thick tail had fanned fur at its end, mirroring the hues of his hair. Unlike Soup, Oka had shorter horns, resembling small peaks protruding from his head. His left eye was made of shades black, while his right eye was an array of white hues. He wore a black medium-sleeved shirt and pants, with fingerless gloves to match his attire. Over this outfit, he donned purplish armor, consisting of shoulder plates, chest and back piece, leg armor, forearm guards, a headpiece, and a segment to cover part of his tail. Leather straps secured the pieces together and to his body, adorned with amethyst accents. Notably, a cutout in his shirt and chestplate framed his unique Eye of Wystora, which was more desaturated than Soup’s.
Oka glanced at Aero. “Indeed it is Emperor Ae—“
However, Soup, eager to leave, interrupted, “Everyone’s done sharing now, can we leave already?”
Oka shot an annoyed glare at Soup, he sighed, taking a seat.
Rowan, growing frustrated with Soup’s impatience, retorted, “Why are you in such a rush to leave? It’s your duty as an emperor to attend these meetings.”
“Nye, you jackass, can’t you just be quiet?” Soup was sweating profusely.
“To a Wysterling not accustomed to the overworld, it’s very hot. On the mountain it’s a bit cooler so it’s more just uncomfortably hot,” Oka explained, intervening on Soup’s behalf.
“Yeah, it’s really fucking hot. Can we leave?” Soup used his hands to fan himself.
“Well, does anyone have anything else to share?” Victoria inquired.
The unanimous response, verbal or gestural, was disagreement. Before anyone else could speak, the Amethian Emperor teleported away in magenta and purple wisps, swiftly followed by Oka, who disappeared in hues of black and white.
“They’re certainly something…” Victoria shook her head.
“Those two are the epitome of misery,” Elliot sneered.
“Misery loves its company,” Raven remarked.
Rowan decided it was time to depart. “Well, there’s still business we need to attend to today. Better make our way back to Xalos.”
“Yes, sir, but give me a moment. I’ll meet you at the mountain’s base,” Elliot requested.
Rowan nodded, heading down the mountain. Elliot remained seated, sorting through a few papers. Aero hastened to catch up with Rowan as he descended. Meanwhile, Raven and Timberlain engaged in conversation. Victoria spoke with Willow, while Ezra, displeased by the two previous exchanges, huffing he walked over to Akita.
“The thing causing terror around Spiralis, has it attacked Tucan yet?” Timberlain asked.
“No, not yet, but with the current pattern, it might soon. Why do you ask?” Raven appeared concerned.
“My mother and siblings live in Tucan, and I worry what might happen. My brother tends to take matters into his own hands.”
“Well, what are their names? I’ll keep an eye on them, and if anything occurs, I’ll send you a letter.”
“Really? Thank you, that would be greatly appreciated.” Timberlain provided Raven with the names. “My mother’s name is Alissya Hawk, my brother is Corey Hawk, and my sister is Belfry Hawk.”
Raven's ears perked up. “Does your family, by any chance, own Hawks Express Delivery?”
“Yes, that’s right. My mother is the owner of the company. They deliver all over the empire, even beyond its borders.”
“That’s really cool. I use Hawks Express Delivery for all my mail. Okay, I’ll keep tabs on them. Let’s hope we can resolve this before it escalates to that point.”
“Of course, and thank you once again.”
“Anytime, Timberlain.” Raven glanced at Akita, “Not to bring down the mood, I have to ask, is Akita alright?”
“What do you mean?” Timberlain turned his gaze to Akita, who was engrossed in conversation with Ezra.
“He seems different, not as cheerful as he usually is. You must have noticed.”
“I’ve noticed he’s a bit more stressed, but there’s a lot happening lately.”
“That’s true, I just hope he’s okay .” Raven turned to Timberlain, his concern evident. “I hope both of you are alright.”
“Thank you.” Timberlain sighed, running his hands through his hair. “We should get going now; it’s a long journey home.”
Timberlain joined Akita, who was still chatting with Ezra. “Akita, it’s best we start heading back. The trip is long, and we don’t want to get caught out here too late.”
“Ah, right. Sorry to cut our conversation short, Ezra.” Akita hugged Ezra, who reciprocated.
“Don’t worry about it. I understand your trip is much longer than mine. Both of you travel safely.”
“We will.” Timberlain and Akita were about to bid their farewells to everyone when Elliot stopped them.
“Apologies for the interruption, but I don’t believe we had a proper introduction earlier.” Elliot gracefully bowed as he spoke, his voice polite, “I’m Elliot, as you’ve already heard. May I ask about both of your names?”
“Oh, that’s right. I’m Akita Hawk, Warden of The Republic of Euphoria,” Akita responded, reciprocating the bow with respect.
“I’m Timberlain, one of the shapeshifter councilmen of The Republic of Euphoria,” Timberlain introduced himself, opting not to bow, as it felt unnecessary.
“Akita, Timberlain, it’s been a pleasure meeting you both. I won't hold you any longer. Safe travels!”
“You too!” Akita waved warmly. With their final exchanges complete, Timberlain and Akita left the gathering.
—[17:23]—
Akita and Timberlain strolled along the path towards home, the conversation flowing between them.
“Finally, we’re back,” Akita’s voice carried a palpable sense of relief.
“Indeed, want me to handle dinner tonight?” Timberlain offered.
“Nope, tonight's my turn to cook. You can relax; I've got it covered,” Akita replied, patting his pockets for the house key.
Timberlain observed Akita, deep in thought. After a moment, Akita noticed Timberlain’s stare as he struggled with the key and lock. “You're staring, Lain. Everything alright?”
Timberlain snapped out of his thoughts and quickly averted his gaze. “Uh, sorry, yeah, everything’s fine.”
“Mhm, sure.” Akita finally managed to open the door and walked inside, Timberlain followed suit and closed the door behind him.
“Kids, we're home!” Akita’s voice rang through the house as removed his shoes by the door.
The sound of small footsteps grew louder, and soon Atticus and Yuri came rushing to greet them, their faces lit up with excitement at seeing Akita and Timberlain return home.
“Daddy! Dad! Your back!” Atticus squealed, hopping into Akita’s arms.
“Papa! Dad!” Yuri chimed in and leaped into Timberlain’s arms.
Dutch barked and bounded from the living room to position himself between Akita’s legs.
“Hey, welcome back home,” Lucille's voice reached Akita’s
attention through the chorus of giggles.
“Hello, Lucille. How was your day?” Akita asked as he handed Atticus over to Timberlain.
Timberlain took charge of Atticus and Yuri, leading them towards their room. Dutch followed closely behind.
“It was fine, nothing out of the ordinary,” Lucille replied from the kitchen while she fetched some water.
“Also where’s your brother?” Akita wandered into the kitchen and leaned against the counter.
“He’s out with friends. He said he’d try and be back by seven.”
“Well, as long as he’s home for dinner,” Akita remarked with a smile.
—[19:07]—
Akita’s attention shifted towards the front door as it unlocked and swung open, revealing Lucifer. A warm smile crossed Akita’s face, and he turned his attention back to preparing dinner.
“Hello, Lucifer. How was your day?” Akita questioned.
Lucifer nonchalantly replied, “Uh, it was fine. School was as boring as usual. After that, a few friends and I hung out.” He dropped his backpack by the front door.
Akita continued cooking, nodding in understanding. “That sounded fun. Come on over.”
Lucifer joined Akita in the kitchen, standing beside him. “What are you making?”
“Salmon and pork with alfredo pasta and roasted asparagus.”
Lucifer's eyes lit up with curiosity. “Can I help?”
“Absolutely, but first, please wash your hands.” Akita gestured towards the sink.
Lucifer eagerly complied, washed his hands while his tail wagged energetically against the floor, and he tapped his foot repeatedly with anticipation.
Akita couldn’t help but smile at Lucifer’s enthusiasm. “Here, can you…”
—[22:46]—
—[Akita POV]—
I sat alone in my office, the late hours of the evening stretched on. The house was quiet; the kids and Söl-leks were peacefully asleep. I diligently worked on the paperwork before me, a focused determination to get it done driving me. Completing it tonight would grant me some relief tomorrow. I hated my job, and the constant stress it brought, but I had chosen it, and I had to live with that decision.
Then, unexpectedly, a voice broke my concentration.
“Akita.”
I jumped in my seat, startled by the sudden interruption. Timberlain had silently entered the room, standing behind me. I hadn’t even noticed him.
I turned in my seat to face him, my heart still racing. “My Amani. Timberlain, you scared me,” I admitted.
His expression carried a weight of concern that sent a shiver down my spine. Something was clearly amiss.
“Can we talk?” Timberlain’s voice wavered with a mix of emotions.
I couldn’t ignore the worry in his eyes. “Of course. What’s wrong?” I asked, growing increasingly anxious.
Timberlain retrieved a broken pen from his pocket. It was my favorite fountain pen, the one I had tossed into the trash. Confusion gnawed at me. Why did he have it?
“Where did you find that?” I questioned, my voice uneasy.
“I found it in your trash this morning. I knew this pen meant a lot to you, so I was concerned when I found it broken.” Timberlain handed me the pen, his eyes searching mine for answers.
My mind raced for a plausible explanation that didn’t involve sharing the details of what truly happened. “It was an accident, and I threw it away. Thank you for your concern though. I plan to get another one tomorrow.” I placed the pen on my desk, avoiding his gaze.
“An accident? Seriously?” Timberlain arms crossed, and his frustration became evident. He didn’t seem convinced by my words.
“Yes, I’m serious. It was an accident. I was upset and broke it. So, please, just drop it.” I replied, my voice strained.
A heavy silence hung between us, neither of us eager to continue the conversation. A knock on the office room door interrupted our tense moment.
“Come in!” I called out, wondering who else was awake at this late hour.
Lucifer slowly pushed the door open and peeked inside. “Hey, Dad, can you help me with…” He trailed off as he saw Timberlain in the room. “Am I interrupting something?”
“No, Lucifer, we were just talking,” Timberlain assured him, lowering his arms.
I smiled warmly to reassure our son. “What did you need help with, kiddo?”
“My horn chipped, and I’m having trouble sharpening it,” Lucifer explained, pointing to the top of his horn where a piece had broken off.
“Sure thing, kiddo. Give me a moment, and I’ll meet you in the living room, okay?” I stood up from my chair.
“Okay!” Lucifer left the room, closing the door behind him.
Once we were alone again, I decided to confide in Timberlain. “Look I’m sorry. I broke the pen about a week ago during our failed attempt to gather information from the people who destroyed the village. I was angry and upset, and I broke it.”
Timberlain remained silent for a while before he sighed. “I’m sorry, too. I just wanted to make sure you were all right because I knew that pen meant a lot to you. I couldn’t imagine it breaking for no reason, so I was concerned.”
I nodded in understanding. “I’m doing better now. It’s still a troubling situation, but I’ll manage.”
“Okay. Don’t worry; we’ll figure this out eventually.” Timberlain came closer and embraced me, and I returned the hug.
“I’ll come to bed after I help Lucifer. I really don’t want to deal with more paperwork tonight.”
Timberlain chuckled. “All right, Akita.”
We parted ways, heading down the hallway in different directions. I entered the living room, where Lucifer sat with a bowl of water and his oil stone on the coffee table. He was picking at the scales on his arms.
I settled onto the grey couch behind him and greeted him with a smile. “Hey, kiddo.”
“Hey, Dad.”
Taking the oil stone, I moistened it slightly and began rubbing it against the tip of his horn, curious to hear how he had chipped it.
“So how did this happen?” I inquired, my curiosity piqued. Lucifer was typically meticulous about his horns, and he took great pride in them.
“Well, I don’t know exactly how it happened, but I think it was when a few friends and I were goofing around and playfully pushing each other,” Lucifer explained.
“Just some roughhousing, then?”
“Yeah,” he nodded.
————
We chatted about random topics while I sharpened his horn. I made sure not to overdo it; I didn’t want any accidents to happen.
“There, all done,” I declared, setting the oil stone and cloth aside.
“Thank you, Dad!” Lucifer expressed his gratitude and headed towards the hallway.
“Of course, kiddo. Now, off to bed,” I directed him, pointing to the hallway.
“Okay, good night!” He vanished down the corridor.
“Good night!”
I decided to linger here for a little while longer. I had no regrets about the choices I’d made. I couldn’t imagine life any other way. Despite its occasional chaos, it was perfect to me.
The people I had met, my friends, my family — this life is truly perfect.
Rofm Cursed Blessings- Masterlist Next
#story#writing#redemptionofmisfortune#rofm#cursedblessings#enjoythechapter!#it took me too long to post this
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Moonlight Dances - Leona x Reader
Look, I swear I am also working on requests. But I have a lot of love for Leona and not a lot of requests for him so I am just doing the work myself lmao. Enjoy this little scenario <3
2nd person. Gn reader.
You sighed out in frustration as you leaned your elbows on the balcony rails. Behind you, through the closed doors, you could still hear the faint sound of the music playing. You looked down at your attire, all dressed up, all… for nothing.
There was a ball at NRC, and you had foolishly assumed this would be an excellent moment to have an actual date with your boyfriend. After all, he was a housewarden, and those were expected to be present at such events.
But then again, there wasn’t a single event where every single one of the house wardens were present: the Ignihyde one sending his device to communicate rather than himself, and usually, the Diasomnia one wasn’t even invited. Top that off with one lazy lion who really hated doing public stuff like that when there was no real benefit to it, meant that at least one housewarden was missing on every such occasion, and today of all days, that lazy lion boyfriend of yours was the one to skip out on the event.
If there was nothing to lose by not going, and nothing to win from going, Leona couldn’t be bothered. And while usually you loved his carefree and lazy attitude, you had let him know repeatedly that you really wanted him to go to the ball with you. You wanted to spend an evening with him that wasn’t lazing around. An actual date. You had even foolishly daydreamed about maybe dancing a little with him.
You went back inside, looking for Ruggie, hoping to get some kind of hope from him, like Leona simply being too late because he overslept. Surely, that was something that didn’t happen very often, because of the very person you were looking for, but you couldn’t help but hope.
The way Ruggie’s ears fell flat a little the moment he made eye contact with you, told you all you needed to know.
“I’m sorry y/n, I really tried dragging him out. But I couldn’t convince him and I was running late myself-” You shook your head and held up a hand to make him stop talking. “I know you do your best, I don’t blame you. I am just,” you let out a deep sigh, “extremely disappointed. But I don’t need you to figure out my relationship or fight out my fights. I will go talk to him myself.”
You left the ball early, sure there wasn’t any fun to be had while you were in a bad mood, and you had to get it all out of your system before bedtime. You marched to Savanaclaw dorm, straight to the biggest room, and slammed open the door. As expected, a familiar silhouette lay on the bed, seemingly undisturbed by your grand entrance.
You sat on the edge of the bed, trying to put your thoughts into words in your head first before speaking them out loud. You wanted to make your feelings clear. Tell him how much he had hurt you. But you also wanted to stay calm, and you- well, you weren’t exactly sure what else you wanted. But you did know you didn’t want this to turn into a shouting match. Or a moment where you let your heart out only to get a half-hearted apology followed by sleepy cuddles because that spoiled boyfriend of yours was so used to always getting his way.
The silence unnerved him enough to make him sit up, as you felt his weight shift and the blankets tug away from you as he did so.
“Y/n…”, he started, but he was stopped almost immediately by you holding up your hand. He crawled a little closer, moving to sit next to you at the edge of the bed. You turned your head away when you felt his stare on the side of your face.
He looked up and down your figure, noticing your attire, and made the click. He knew why you were there. He knew why you were upset with him. But he also was confused. You had been together for a while now, and you must’ve known better than to assume he’d come and surprise you at the ball after he had repeatedly told you that he did not want to go.
You sighed deeply before talking. You still refused to lift your head and talk to him, instead talking to your hands that were resting in your lap.
“I-..”, you sighed again, not sure if even after all the thinking you had done, you were even going to be able to coherently explain yourself, “I am disappointed, I guess. Disappointed in you, surely, but also in myself. For being dumb enough to think that maybe, just this once, you’d want to hang out with me in public. That maybe, you would show me off, be proud to have a partner at a public event. Or even if you didn’t want to do all that, that we could just get some snacks, sneak off to the balcony and listen to the music. That maybe… we’d get to dance, and I’d get to spend a proper date with the man I love. Because… I truly don’t care about dates, balls, big things. But I do feel like.. you don’t think I am worth the effort? You didn’t have to dress up or anything. Just come out, and spend some time with me that’s not napping and cuddling, either in the botanical gardens or your room.” Once the words had started flowing, there was no way to stop them. You wandered, from the ball, to other issues, most of them coming down to one thing: you were afraid that Leona wasn’t taking this relationship seriously, you were afraid that he was growing tired of you, you were terrified to lose him, and tonight, for a brief moment, you thought that you had.
Leona listened quietly, knowing better than to interrupt you while you were pouring your heart out. He felt pained, and a little guilty. Because, truly, he didn’t care about the ball, but that didn’t mean he felt the same way about you? He loved you more than anything in the world, and you were one of the few things that made him genuinely happy. He had never said so, because sappy words were not his style, but he realized only now that maybe he had been underappreciating your presence. The fact that he wanted to spend so much time with you was a clear sign of his affection according to himself, but he didn’t think that not doing more would make you feel so inadequate, so unwanted, while he wanted nothing but you.
But these feelings were also way too hard for him to put into words, especially since yours had made his mouth feel dry, and a pit in his stomach grow. He felt bad to his core, and he knew there were very little things he could say to actually make it up to you.
So instead he stood up from the bed, and stood in front of you, bending down slightly so he could take your hands, and pull you up as well. This was the moment you looked up, hurt still apparent on your features, but now making place for some confusion as well. He looked into your eyes, the bright green color that always pulled you in somehow, shimmering even more bright as it reflected the moonlight that shone through the window.
Leona didn’t utter a word as he lead you outside, the cool evening breeze hitting your skin and making you shiver. The moon was shining so bright, you didn’t even need to turn on any outside lights. Leona finally let go of your hands and moved his hands to your waist before you could even open your mouth to ask what he was doing. His movements made it very clear though, as he started slow-dancing, slowly, to no tune at all. His movements were very deliberate, never truly forcing you to move, but making it feel only natural to do so.
You leaned your head on his shoulder as you danced in silence, knowing that this was as good an apology as you were going to get. Taking a few deep breaths, you felt most of the anger ebb away, but not entirely. There was something lasting a little, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. You were missing something, but if asked, you wouldn’t be able to answer what exactly it is that you were missing.
“I do love you, you know”
It was quiet, murmured against your cheek, more of a thought than an actual confession, but it managed to fill the void you were feeling earlier. Leona never was one to actually say those words out loud, letting his actions speak for his feelings and showing affection in his own way. It was something you knew before you got together but still made it hard to keep it going sometimes. Times like now, where you had felt so… lonely, even in the relationship.
And just like that, most of the worries were gone, and so was the anger, and the sadness. You knew you would still need to have a conversation about this, but you also realized that now was not the time. Now, you would just enjoy the closeness, the love, and the fact that you did get a moonlight dance from your boyfriend, although not at the ball.
#leona x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#leona x y/n#leona kingscholar x y/n#twisted wonderland#twst#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#reader insert#fluff#romance#gn reader
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Don't Hyde From Me (ch 3. Ain't It Fun?)
CW/TW: mentions of alcohol, drugs, murder, depictions of murder, attempted rape, slightly possessive Tyler, Tyler and his mommy issues.
youtube
(part 1, part 2)
Tyler sat on his side of the room on his bed, watching as Hoa as she typed away at her paper. She was still a mystery to him, he would make sure to make her death a slow and painful one that he could savor; she sighed in relief as she finally finished that paper she started hours ago. Her joints cracked and popped as she stretched in her seat, waiting for the damn paper to print. She could feel Tyler’s eyes on her, watching her every damn move. From her bored fidgeting to her constantly checking the clock; 4:35PM. It was almost time for her date. The boy didn’t know why seeing his warden holding hands with another boy made him so angry, made him want to kill; rage bubbled in the pit of his stomach as he watched her prance around the room gathering the items for her outfit, gathering the makeup, humming to herself.
Now, it wasn’t just seeing her with another man that made him so angry but her having to take him along. He knows that he had to be monitored 24/7, but it felt like she brought him along to every date just to push his buttons. Like she wanted him to kill her. Tyler sighed and rolled his eyes as the vampire blasted a mixture of old classic rock and modern rock, dancing and hopping about the room. Her smile could light up a train station during a power outage.
Ain’t It Fun?
She dramatically lip synced to Paramore as she sprayed her strawberry perfume on her body, a sickly sweet scent that irritated Tyler yet brought him some sense of peace. As much as she annoyed him, he’d rather be subjected to her antics than torture and murder any day.
Don’t go cryin’ to your mama.
If his mother were still alive, she would’ve taken a liking to her. Even though his mother passed away when he was very young he still had fond memories of her, she loved dancing to music and doing her makeup. His heart would flutter as he would dance with her, laughter filling the room whenever he did. Hoa reminded him of her, he did his best to hide a tear- luckily Hoa was too busy doing her hair to notice. Was this her plan? Was Hoa just toying with him? Was she just as sick and psychopathic as he was? He wanted to know more, see more, feel more.
“You know,” Hoa grumbled as she tied her hair into twin buns, “They say that it lasts longer if you take a picture.”
Cuz you’re on your own.
“What?” Tyler scoffed back, “Not gonna harvest my emerald green eyes are you?” When their eyes met- her shade covered eyes and his shiny emerald eyes- he flashed her a smirk.
“I don’t have time to deal with you right now.” She groaned as she yanked on the curtain dividing the room to give herself some privacy. Tyler knew he had to look away but watching her silhouette move against the thin fabric separating the two of them, seeing the curves and edges of her body, maybe he’ll have his way with her before he kills her. It would be exhilarating to see the fear in her eyes, unsure of what he’d do to her, he closed his eyes and moaned softly at the thoughts of her underneath him.
“He’ll be here in 5 minutes.” Hoa pushed the curtain back, revealing her black and red outfit; plain blood red t-shirt covered by a faded black leather jacket, ripped black jeans covering her knees, “Behave yourself.” She pointed a stern finger at him as she walked to the bathroom to do her makeup, her long hair bouncing as she sauntered off. Tyler groaned as he rested his back against the wall by his bed, what did she even see in this boy? He was a delinquent, sure Tyler did kill a few people but besides being a murderer Tyler was a sweet and loving person.
So what are you gonna do when the world don’t open up around you?
“Sure,” he sighed, frustrated and not knowing what he wanted, “Don’t let me get in the way of your love making Ms. Warden.”
So what are you gonna do when nobody wants to fool with you?
“Ain’t it fun?” She teased him, pushing his buttons even further.
“At least I’m not a cheap whore like you.”
“I’m only a whore to prepare myself for a badass death.” Tyler had forgotten about the girl’s death wish, she had made it clear to him that she would go out of her way to get a chance to tango with the grim reaper himself. The boy couldn’t help but scoff at the remark, glancing up at the girl as she waltzed out of the bathroom- tonight’s makeup color scheme was black. Hoa adjusted her glasses, showing off her makeup, an aura of success exuding from her. To say she was beautiful would be an understatement, Tyler opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by 3 swift knocks at the door. It was him.
Ain’t it fun, living in the real world?
Hoa rushed to the door and opened it, greeted by a siren with a smug grin on his face. David Matthews. Tyler tried to hide his seething anger as he watched the young man wrap his arm around Hoa’s waist and pull her closer to him, the girl squeaked and giggled before playfully smacking the siren on the cheek. David nodded a reluctant greeting to the chained up hyde before closing the door behind him. Tyler didn’t like this boy for a multitude of reasons, one being the fact that he was manipulating her. The second, he was using her. The third, he was lying up front to her and she couldn’t see through his little charade.
“Is he gonna be a problem?” David gestured in the curly haired boy’s direction, receiving an unfriendly snarl from Tyler, “Don’t want him to hyde out and ruin that pretty makeup of yours before I do.” If Tyler hated anything more than Hoa, it was David. He hated how that boy brought out the worst in Hoa, she could’ve done so much better than a parasite like him.
“Don’t mind him.” Hoa led him to her bed, “We’ll just be watching Disney movies is all.” She grinned as David’s face fell, she was serious. When they were discussing their date plans on the phone he thought that they’d be doing something other than Disney, but he still had his hopes up. Tyler could sense the malice behind that fake kindness of his, he wanted to warn Hoa but she would never believe him- how could she? Tyler sighed and closed his eyes as he lay down in his bed, wishing that she could see the trouble she was in before it was too late.
Ain’t it fun?
David knew Tyler was onto him and aware of his motives, he knew Tyler couldn’t do or say anything because no one would believe a monster. Hoa set up the first movie, she was waiting patiently to be able to do something she wanted on a date; in the past it was always whatever David wanted. Parties, drugs, booze, he would always flirt with other women and both him and Hoa would get into a fight after every date. Every night her heart would break but every morning after he would bring her flowers to apologize. She knew he was toxic but she just wanted to pretend, to pretend that there was a sliver of hope there. That he was a good guy deep down inside. Tyler rolled to his side, back turned towards the couple, he wanted to be the one with his arm around her waist but that just won’t happen. Not now, not any time soon, not ever. Ain’t it fun? He closed his eyes and dozed off…
The next thing he knew was that it was 5 minutes after the clock had struck 5PM, he could hear the sounds of screaming and struggling from Hoa’s side of the room. Tyler turned over to see what the commotion was only to feel sick to his stomach. Hoa was struggling against David, the boy had her pinned and was covering her mouth to muffle her screams- tears stained her bruised littered face, black purple and blue painted her body. David was trying to take advantage of her, Tyler sensed the anger steeping in the pit of David’s stomach as Hoa made it difficult for him to do what he wanted.
“Come on baby,” David grunted, “Make this easy for me. You always did what you were told before. Let me fuck you.” Hoa wriggled and writhed, David lost his patience and slammed his fist against the side of her face leaving a trail of blood running down her nose. Tyler’s blood boiled, he slowly rolled off his bed and started making his way towards the two, rage and bloodlust clouded his thoughts. All he wanted was David dead. He didn’t think before he acted, the next thing that he heard were the frightened screams from David’s sinister mouth.
Tyler’s eyes widened as he saw the blood oozing on his hands, what had he done?
“You’re a fucking bitch!” David cried as he stumbled out of the room, slamming the door behind him, his frantic footsteps echoed through the empty halls. Tyler wanted to storm off after him but hearing her faint sobs caused his heart to shatter to pieces, the boy knelt by the side of her bed- at a loss for words seeing her bloodied and bruised. What the fuck is wrong with him? What happened to wanting to make her bleed and suffer?
“Hoa?” His voice shaky as he tried to reach out for her, his head yelling at him to stop.
“Just-” the girl hiccupped, “I need space.” She stumbled to her phone sitting on her desk. She didn’t even look at him. Tyler didn’t know what to do other than stand there flabbergasted and mouth hanging open like a fish gasping for air, he watched as Hoa’s tough and cold hearted demeanor crumbled. Underneath all that sarcasm and stubbornness was a scared little girl, she was vulnerable. A knock at the door caused her to jump before answering.
“Co sao khong?” A young man similar looking to Hoa made his way in, “Sis, who did this to you?” He quickly directed his attention to Tyler, ready to break his knees.
“Don’t want to talk about it.” Hoa made her way to the open window, snaking her leg out onto the balcony, wiping the blood off her face.
“You want me to shift?” The man asked, gaining a swift nod from Hoa before she disappeared. The man sighed and plopped himself at the girl’s desk, his form and figure quickly changing to imitate the image of Hoa. This man was a shifter. Tyler had a thousand questions flying around his head at a thousand miles, where does he start? How did Hoa know this man?
“You have questions for me,” The unknown man spoke, “I can see it written on your stupid face.” Great, this man was just like her.
“First off,” Tyler got to his feet, “Who are you?” His brows furrowed quizzically. The man sighed and took off his sunglasses, he was Hoa’s twin. Her brother, her ‘womb mate’ as he liked to call it. Tyler never knew about Hoa’s family, he didn’t even think to ask, but knowing her… Her brother was no different. His name was Quan, part vampire and part shifter. Born seconds after his sister, the two of them were almost inseparable. After giving Tyler a brief introduction he pulled out his phone to track his sister’s location.
“You stalk your sister often?” Tyler scoffed, “Talk about incest much?”
“For your information,” Quan hissed, “I want to make sure my sister is safe.” Quan had an odd way of keeping tabs on his sister, the entire Duong family was an enigma to Tyler. He wanted to know more. His second question was regarding the fact why Hoa never mentioned him or had any family photos. Quan refused to answer, dodging it by pretending not to hear the boy. Like brother, like sister. Tyler sighed and made his way to the bathroom to wash the blood from his hands. He feared the worst, the death penalty. He then made his bed, knowing the conversation would go nowhere.
“Thank you,” Quan spoke after moments of silence, “For kicking that douchebag’s ass back there.” Tyler was too stunned to speak. Any normal person would cower in fear.
“You’re not angry that I hurt someone?” Tyler tilted his head curiously.
“Well,” Quan smirked, “I’m fine if pain is given to those who deserve it. I’ve been trying to warn my sis about that guy for months.” Why was Quan thanking him? Tyler was the ‘monster’ in this situation, was Quan just as crazy as his sister? Before any of them could say a word the sound of the window closing and clanking of glass caught their attention, she was back.
Ain’t it good to be on your own.
The clock struck 6PM, Hoa stumbled across the room, she looked like a mess. A greeting left her lips, words slurred together as she nearly tripped over her own feet, the smell of alcohol and weed was strong enough to intoxicate an elephant. Cheap whiskey and wine mixed with smoke filled the room, it was unbearable that Tyler had to open the window. Hoa fell into her brother’s arms with a hiccup, a look of disgust and disappointment painted his pale face.
“Are you drunk?” He interrogated her angrily.
“Stoned too!” She grinned, “Want some little brother?” She pulled out a bottle of whiskey from the shopping bag she had with her, Quan took it from her hands only to realize that the bottle was empty. He sighed before plopping his sister on her bed, he hated when she got like this- he couldn’t blame her though, he only had his father to blame for her behavior. The young man straightened his uniform as he shifted back to his original form, adjusting his glasses he turned to face Tyler.
“Take care of her for me, will you?” Quan smiled as he made his way to the door. Tyler blinked, an odd request to ask of a monster who wants your sister dead, but Tyler agreed without question. He sat on the floor next to Hoa’s bed, unsure of what to do or say. It broke him to see her like this, he just wished she would snap at him with some snarky remark about him and his emerald eyes but she didn’t.
“I hate you.” Hoa giggled, she was now in front of her mirror and pointing at her reflection, “You’re a piece of shit, you know that?”
“Hey,” Tyler got up and cautiously hovered his arms around her, afraid she would stumble and hurt herself even more, “How about you get some rest, yeah?”
“How about you shove it,” a cold smirk found its home on her lips, “Barista Boy?” God, out of all times she chose now to push his buttons. She got up in his face, Tyler almost passing out as the smell of whiskey and weed hit him. His chained hands instinctively pulled her close, what was he doing? Her eyes laced with intoxication and bad decisions, he could easily snap her neck right then and there. Her black lipstick smudged along with her eye makeup, he wanted her.
“You’re drunk.” He mumbled.
“And you’re a monster.” She cooed, “A cute, harmless monster.” Tyler felt his face warm up at her comment. A part of him knew she didn’t mean it- the girl was wasted and stoned out of her mind, she probably didn’t even know what she was saying- but another part of him wanted to believe her. He wanted her to mean it. He reminded her that if it weren’t for the chains holding him, he would break every bone in her body over and over until she was a mangled mess.
“Is that so?” She cocked a brow, “Is the big scary monster gonna kill me?” She mocked him, using a tone you’d use with an infant.
“Maybe you should sit down-”
“Maybe I should take these chains off of you.” She held up the key that could give him the freedom he so desperately wanted. Tyler’s breath caught in his throat, his chest heaving as he came close to finally getting what he wanted- what he needed. He felt his cock twitch from the sheer sight of the key that she twirled in her fingers, she could see the want in his eyes as she leaned in closer. They fell into each other’s orbit, unable to take their eyes off the other.
“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into, baby.” He huffed, forehead resting against hers. The cold chains resting upon her back as his hands trailed her sides, just as he leaned down to plant a kiss on her lips she quickly escaped his grasps and darted towards the bathroom. Kneeling besides the toilet as she heaved and vomited her insides.
Ain’t it fun?
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| The Huntsman |
Hello! I've had this guy chilling in my head for a long, long while now, and so I've decided to share him :) I love seeing other people's HTTYD characters, both human and dragon, so hopefully some people will like my little guy too <3
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/b00abf9dd002a1ad30f5b38a3c87f5bc/e2cf7dc5a6132449-13/s540x810/4e556593ddfeaec2ddd60c890b20a8a0bf9b78d8.jpg)
They say that when he appears, it's like a great shadow passing over the sea. It's wings are big enough to blot out the Sun, and before you know it, your ship has burst into flame.
Smoke envelops you, the air fills with screams and the roaring of dragons, and through the hellfire you see his silhouette. You see him and you see it.
The Huntsman and his beast.
It's a Night Fury, bigger than any other you've seen, with scales that blend into the black smoke and wings bigger than the sails of your ship. It's eyes look white against the sea of red around it, and as it prowles closer, snarling, teeth flashing, you find yourself thinking,
This must be what Death looks like.
But the Huntsman holds up a hand, his voice rises above the crackling flames as he says "Warden." and the dragon halts.
One word.
One word, and Death listens, and turns away from your cowering form to return to it's master. The Huntsman's outline is dark against the raging inferno that is now your ship, and through your blurry vision, you can see dragons swirling along the rising smoke. The same dragons you spent weeks trapping and transporting from ship to ship, but now they're free, and their angered cries make your ears ring.
They all scatter like embers in the wind, until all that remains are you and your crewmates on the burning ship.
And the Huntsman.
He turns to you, then, and you see him clearly for the first time since he arrived. The head of the black wolf skin he wears rests on his shoulder, it's glass eyes glinting in the firelight. The Huntsman wears a mask that covers all but his eyes, and for a moment, you can't tell them apart from the wolf's.
He's clad in black -or perhaps it's the light behind him that shrouds him in darkness. He's tall, and the shadow he casts falls on you like the night.
He takes a step toward you, dragon in tow.
"Please.." you beg, certain of your demise. If he doesn't kill you, the fire surely will, but that doesn't stop you from trying. He stopped the dragon from attacking you that first time. He's only human. You might be able to reason with him.
He stops to stare at you. The dragon at his side looks ready to rip into you at a moment's notice.
"Please, have mercy.. I-I have a family waiting for me, I have a son- please, please don't take his father away!"
He seems to consider you for a moment. You can't see his face, can't read his emotions, but something in his eyes makes your stomach churn.
You know that look. You see it on your crewmates' faces whenever a new dragon is captured and brought on board- a cold, uncaring nonchalance. Your life means nothing to him and you both know it.
The seconds seem to stretch into hours as he stares at you. You don't dare move from your spot, even though you're sure the rest of the crew has already fled the ship. You bought them enough time to escape, and you can't help but think; no matter what happens to you now, you would die a worthy death.
It happens before you realize it. The Huntsman steps forward in the blink of an eye- you see the flash of a blade, hidden until that point, and feel a sharp pain in your temple before it all goes black.
× × ×
You wake up on the shores of some foreign beach. There's sand in your teeth, waves blanketing you up to the waist and a throbbing headache behind your eyes. Sunlight blinds you as you peel your eyes open to look around.
You have no idea where you are. The Sun beats down on you mercilessly, and the water you sit in feels blissfully cold against the searing heat.
You're alive.
It dawns on you way too late, and yet all too fast. You survived meeting the Huntsman. You stared into the eyes of Death itself, and lived to tell the tale.
And that is exactly what you'll do, you think to yourself, beginning to walk along the shore.
You will live and warn others of the dragon that is Death, and the man who's word is it's command.
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For DADWC, I'd love to see the enemies-to-lovers prompt "you and your enemy hug each other, it’s completely accidental, and neither of you know why it happened, and it’s like,,, you glare at each other, with an expression of “let’s never speak of this again'" for Cassandra and Varric, or any other enemies-to-lovers pair you like!
I'm playing a little fast and loose here with the definition of a hug, but I hope you enjoy it anyway!
for @dadrunkwriting
~~~~~~
“Varric?”
“Go away.”
“Varric, I just -” A book flew past her. A warning. Varric didn’t miss, except on purpose.
“Get out, Seeker. You got what you wanted, okay?”
She slipped inside and closed the door. “I didn’t want this. I didn’t want any of this.”
“And yet here we are.” His voice was everywhere in the dark room.
“Where are your candles?”
“Don’t need them. Don’t want them either. If I can see then I have to write those letters. To Fenris and . . . everyone else.” He sighed. “Please. Just go.”
“I wanted - Varric, I’m sorry. I wish I’d never involved you, or him.” She felt around in the nearly pitch dark for the table, then used that to find a chair. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t bring him back. Sorry doesn’t have to tell Fenris.” Something thudded on the table. A bottle. His fingers touched hers as he pressed smooth glass into her hand. “Sorry does, however, have to drink with me.”
She felt up to the top of the bottle. It was already open. “To Hawke.” She took a sip. It was . . . unexpectedly pleasant. “What is this?”
“Amaretto. I asked Ruffles to get some. Fenris always liked to -” his voice broke. “Anyway, I was going to send it home with Hawke, but there’s no sense in wasting it.”
“I am sorry.”
“Shut up and drink.” She took another sip.
“You know he taught that damn mabari to play chess?” The bottle was pulled from her hand. “Rosie didn’t have a head for strategy, but she could move all the pieces the right way and wait her turn.” As Cassandra’s eyes adjusted to the gloom, she could make out the dwarf’s silhouette. He was slumped in his chair, idly fiddling with his necklace. “He found one of my ancestors down in that damn Warden prison too. Couldn’t bring the bones back for me, not that I’d want them, but he gave it a proper dwarven funeral down there. Didn’t even mention it to me either. Fenris asked me about it later. Fucking idiot softie.” He slid the bottle back across the table.
She took another sip. It was very good. “Did you know that mages murdered by brother in front of me?”
“That supposed to make me feel better? More dead people?” He put his face in his hands.
She scooted her chair closer so she could hand him the amaretto. “It’s supposed to mean that I understand.”
“I - shit, Seeker. I write tragedies, I’m not supposed to be in them.” He drank deeply, then coughed. “He’d have gotten involved anyway. Even if I wasn’t here. He’d have been on his way the moment he heard the name Corypheus. Which means all of this is my fault.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Varric was holding the amaretto in the hand that was further away, so she dragged the chair a little closer. He took another sip. “How much of that have you had?”
He held the bottle up and shook it. “Whatever you didn’t.”
“Perhaps that’s enough then.” She reached across him to take it away, which of course he didn’t let her do, and of course that turned into chasing after him into the man hall.
And across the garden.
And around the statue of Andraste in the chapel.
And back through the main hall.
And up into the library.
Maker, how could he move that fast with legs half as long as hers?
He ducked out toward Cullen’s office, then toward the stables.
This was ridiculous, but now she was committed. At least on open ground, he couldn’t zigzag so effectively, or knock chairs down behind her.
She finally caught him with a flying tackle that sent them both sliding in the mud. He struggled briefly, but relaxed and let her just sit on him as she took a victory sip.
“Well this is . . . unexpected.”
Cassandra jumped up as Varric rolled to his feet and gave her a sheepish look. “You win, Seeker.” He glanced at Blackwall. “We’ll never speak of this.”
Blackwall hid a small smile. “Speak of what? Also, I’m on your tab for a month.”
Varris brushed at the mud on his pants with disgust. “Deal.”
#da drunk writing circle#dragon age#fanfic writing#cassandra pentaghast#varric tethras#awkward sort of hugs#post adamant#prompt fills
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Recovery? (Adrenaline Junkie Part 5)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17
Spotify Playlist (collaborative)
Warnings: PTSD, sleep paralysis, hallucinations, swearing, mentions of death/injury, depression, anxiety, suicidal ideation (marked so you can skip if it’s a major trigger for you), self harm (also marked), phantom pain syndrome
Word count: 3,722
Disclaimer: I have not experienced PTSD, sleep paralysis, hallucinations, or phantom pain syndrome, so I’m sorry if they aren’t portrayed correctly
When a wild bird can’t fly, it’s defenseless. It feels trapped even if it can still walk away. It feels alone even if it’s surrounded by other birds. If a bird loses the ability to fly, a piece of it is missing. A piece of itself. Something that it values as something unique to it and only it. It loses most mental stimulation and becomes numb until it can feel freedom again.
It’s been about two months since you respawned and you honestly felt so restless. You wanted to fly through the sky again, feeling the air move freely between your feathers. You wanted to weave in and out of the clouds. You wanted to feel something other than fear. When you’re not scared, you don't feel anything. You missed skydiving. You wanted, no, you craved the feeling of adrenaline flowing along every little nook and cranny in your cardiovascular system.
You found out that you get flashbacks whenever you see someone or something hulky and covered in a dark green color. You still haven’t told your family about this, you thought that it was something silly to be afraid of. You tried your hardest to avoid Philza the most; he always wore his favorite color with pride. You still haven’t apologized for screaming death threats at him when you were going through an episode.
You only had one other major hallucinogenic episode since the first one, but it wasn’t as bad as the first one.
You woke up in the middle of the night with the moonlight beaming through your window illuminating the silhouette of The Warden standing in the corner of your room. You willed yourself to open your mouth to scream for your brothers, but you couldn’t move. You could only watch it.
The telltale glowing drool fell from the corners of its wide mouth, mixing with the blood dripping off from its long claws. Its chest rhythmically glowed as the things writhing in it managed to squeeze through the small gaps between the bony confines of its ribs. The white wisps flew around your room freely, bouncing off your walls with thuds and eventually settling to float in front of your face.
You watched with wide eyes as their permanently gaping mouths struggled to form words. Somehow, you could see desperation in their empty eye sockets. A flurry of whispers met your ears, but you couldn’t make out anything they were saying. It was too jumbled.
You heard The Warden slowly drag its feet along your carpet over to your bed. The wisps started to thrash about and scream as it reached out and scooped them all up easily with a single swipe of a hand. It shoved them into its mouth and they reappeared behind the confines of its ribcage, the screaming getting louder and more distorted as they got swallowed. Multiple voices were shrieking with agony and anguish as The Warden turned its attention towards you. It bent over and hovered its face over yours as its drool and drops of blood started to drip onto your cheeks. You felt its rancid breath fan over you. It had hints of iron and rot.
Your mind was screaming at your body to move away, but you couldn’t. You didn’t have control anymore. Your breathing picked up as you felt your heart beat out of your chest. It just hovered over you doing nothing, like it was enjoying seeing your fearful eyes. Like it enjoyed the feeling of having complete power over you.
Your breath caught in your throat as it got closer to you, its mouth getting dangerously close to engulfing your entire head. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried with all your might to move any part of your body. After a while, your head slightly moved to the side. Gradually, you worked your way up to moving your head fully to the side. You felt all your muscles activate at once as you shot up from your bed with a strangled gasp.
You frantically flattened your body against the wall, reaching a shaking hand between the wall and mattress to grab the iron dagger you hid there. Holding it defensively in front of you, you scanned the room. There was not a single thing out of place. Everything was just as you left it before you went to bed.
You covered your mouth as sobs threatened to burst from your chest like the wisps in The Warden’s. You brought your knees up to your chest and buried your head in them. You didn’t sleep for a few days after that.
Other than the major episodes, your imagination placed The Warden everywhere you looked. You saw The Warden whenever Philza walked past you. You saw glimpses of it whenever you looked into the woods at night. You saw it behind you in the mirror reaching for your other wing. Sometimes, you thought you could hear the screams of the wisps in the distance.
Your entire family was constantly hovering over you; you always had at least one of the boys with you at all times. They wouldn’t let you out of the house.
Out of all of your family, Wilbur was probably the lesser of the evils. He didn’t judge you or question you, he just let you do your own thing. He would softly pluck the strings on his guitar and sing to you while you would lay on his bed. Those moments were one of the only moments where you would fully let your guard down and relax.
Hangouts with Techno were also pleasant, but he hasn’t looked you in the eyes since he helped you during your first episode. That was the only downside to it though; he would give you some of his mythology books to read or read them to you. His voice always soothed you as a kid. Sometimes, he would give you a hug when he saw that it was a rough day for you.
Tommy’s hang outs were kept to a minimal, the family didn’t trust him much because they thought his rambunctious and extrovert personality would overwhelm you. You were alone with him only twice out of the last two months. Usually, you both would lay on his bed and just talk about his life with the jukebox running softly in the background playing the discs that you and Philza gifted him during his first birthday with the family. He tried to get you to open up to him, but you always deflected. He shouldn’t know how fucked up you were, you vowed to protect him when Philza first brought him home. You would always protect your little brother, even if it was from yourself.
Before the incident, you would’ve killed to get more alone time with your father. But now, you tried to avoid Philza at all costs. You couldn’t help but see The Warden whenever you saw his tall form, green clothes, and large wings. When you had to hang out with him however, you wouldn’t look at him. You two would usually go to chop down trees or cook dinner together.
You felt incredibly guilty that you still haven’t apologized to him for everything you’ve put him through. Whenever you brought yourself to glance at him, he was always looking at you heartbroken. You knew that the outcomes of your first death gave the entire family some form of trauma, but you saw that it hit your dad harder than the others. You did threaten to kill him in graphic ways and you did hit him in your panicked stupor. You really needed to apologize for that. You probably should tell him about your silly little fear of green. You were going to wait until he was in his pajamas to apologize; they usually didn’t have much green.
You loved your family of course, but you were always the type of person to require some alone time to function, even before the incident. You felt incredibly drained physically, mentally, and emotionally. It took you a tremendous amount of effort to get out of bed in the mornings. You didn’t see any meaning in life anymore. Everything was gray and the only thing you actually felt was fear, so you didn’t see any point in getting up. The only reason you left your bed was because your brothers would coax you out. Everyday was monotonous.
*************************SUICIDAL IDEATION/SELF HARM*****************************
Your mind was always coming up with intrusive thoughts about killing yourself. When you did the dishes, you always imagined yourself gliding blades vertically along your wrists and just letting the blood pool out and mix with the dishwater. When you cooked breakfast, you would imagine placing your hand inside the burning flame of the stove. When you were staring out of the window at night looking for The Warden, you would imagine yourself disappearing into the woods to look for a creeper to blow you up. When you passed the potion chest, you imagined chugging poison so you could feel something before you died. Whenever you used an ore during crafting, you always thought about going back to the cave so you could be put out of your misery again. It did a damn good job at killing you the first time. Who knows, maybe The Warden would be merciful this time. The most common thought was finding a tall cliff or mountain and jumping off to finally feel the wind between your feathers and the adrenaline running through you for the last time. You daydreamed about that last one a lot.
The little scrapes you got on the little tasks given to you by your family gave you a smidge of pain. A smidge of feeling other than numbness or suffocating fear. So, in a desparate attempt to feel something, you started to cut yourself You have a dagger hidden in your room that your family didn’t know about and you constantly wore a long sleeved cloak to hide your wing so you could easily hide the cuts. It would give you some light in the dark abyss that was your current mental state.
Sometimes, you would make small cuts on your wrists and thighs when everything was too overwhelming, but the relief it gave you wouldn’t last throughout the day. You were scared to cut deeper. You didn’t want to deal with infection or smuggling healing potions underneath your family’s noses. You would probably get caught and they’d take away the very little freedom and control you had in your life.
**********************SUICIDAL IDEATION/SELF HARM OVER*************************
You grunted in discomfort as you chopped some wood with Philza behind your house. It was a bad day for the phantom pains in your absent wing, you felt shooting pain and itchiness along where it was supposed to be all day long. You heard him pause his actions and walk over to you. When he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, you squeezed your eyes shut as you remembered the way he grabbed you the day you respawned.
“Are you alright hun?”
Shrugging off his hand, you continued to chop lumber. “I’m fine Dad.”
“Are you sure? You looked like you were in pain.”
You sighed, “It’s… it’s just a bad day for the pain.”
“Where does it hurt? I can go grab you a potion.”
He sounded like he always did when he talked to you, concerned. You wanted to be treated like a normal person again. You didn’t like it when your family walked on eggshells around you constantly, it made you feel like a stranger in your own home.
“My right wing hurts. And potions don’t help, I’ve tried that. There’s nothing you can do.”
He paused for a second. You imagined him furrowing his brows and tilting his head lightly to the side as he contemplated what you said. It was the first time you opened up to him about anything. “...Your wing still feels things?”
You grunted as you swung the axe down onto the log, “Yeah, it feels things sometimes. It’s mostly a shooting pain or an itching sensation where I don’t have a wing. There’s nothing I can do about it, so I’m learning to live with it.”
“How long has this been happening?”
Your mind flashed back to the conversation you two had a year ago. “Since I lost it.”
“Why don’t we turn in for the night? The sun is starting to set and we’ve got enough wood to last us a week.”
You silently nodded and bent over to pick up the logs you chopped. Grabbing as much as your arms could hold, you put the planks into the chest next to the back door. Turning around to grab more, you jumped back when your eyes met with Philza’s chest. His hand was outstretched towards you. You hugged your body as you looked away from him.
“(Y/n), you’re not okay. Please just let me help you.”
“...I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m fine.”
“You haven’t spoken to anyone about your emotions, bottling it up isn’t good hun.”
“That’s because I don’t have anything to talk about.”
He sighed, “Why don’t we get your brothers to cook dinner so we can have a little chat. Meet me in your room.”
Wordlessly, you walked back into the house and straight up to your room. Sitting on the bed, you put your head in your hands as you waited for the inevitable vulnerability. After a couple of minutes, you heard a gentle knock on your door. It opened to reveal your dad smiling at you.
Glancing back at your hands, you slipped your hand under the sleeve of your cloak to pinch the skin so you could try to ignore him when he walked over to sit next to you. You turned your head away from him.
You felt the mattress shift under his weight when he sat next to you. You felt his breath tickle the top of your head as he spoke to you, “please, talk to me.”
“I’ve already told you, there’s nothing to talk about Dad.”
“...You’ve been seeing The Warden whenever you look at me, haven’t you?” He sounded so broken. It must be hard to have your own child avoid you because you reminded them of their murderer.
You were quiet for a few moments while you battled against the tears that threatened to leak from your eyes. Swallowing thickly, you shakily said, “I’m sorry Dad, I’m so sorry. I-I see it when I see you. I see it everywhere.”
“Hey,” he gently said, “it’s alright. Nothing’s your fault, you can’t control it. Is there anything… specific that reminds you of it?”
“...Yeah, I see it vividly when I see something tall and… and dark green. I can’t help but to see it when I see you.”
He felt his heart sink. He always wore green, no matter the day. He was basically torturing his child just by being around them. God, what kind of father was he if he didn’t realize that sooner? He felt like a failure.
You spewed reassurances at him when you heard his breath hitch. “Dad, it’s not your fault, you didn’t know about it. It’s just a stupid fear and it’s my fault for not getting over it. I-I’ll do better. I can-”
“Stop. Nothing is your fault and it’s certainly not stupid. You’re traumatized, (y/n), you’re traumatized and it’s nobody’s fault except The Warden’s,” it sounded like he was trying to convince himself. “Would you feel more comfortable if I changed clothes?”
“You- you don’t have to. I don’t want you to change anything because of me.”
“(Y/n), I’m your father. I’ll do anything if it means you feel better, I want to help you get better. Changing what I wear isn’t a big deal. I’ll be right back.”
“You really don’t have to, Dad.”
“Nonsense, I’m going to go change. It’s really not a big deal.”
He stood up and speed walked out your door. You felt awful, he was changing because of you. Because you were scared of a fucking color. You needed to get a grip. You were weak.
The door opened again to reveal Philza dressed in an old white t-shirt and gray sweatpants. His wardrobe was very limited when it came to colors other than green; it was strange seeing him in anything but green. You felt a little more at ease around him, but you still couldn’t look him in the eye. You still felt guilty.
Sitting next to you again, he fiddled with the hem of his shirt. “It’s been a while since I’ve worn these, I uh forgot how comfy they are.”
You two sat in an awkward silence. It was obvious that he was lying to you about liking them. He was shifting his wings around uncomfortably and shifting on the mattress. With wings, it was hard to find fabric that didn’t irritate the base of the wing. The base of the wings were more sensitive than any other body part.
“You’re lying.”
“Lying? About what hun?”
“About being comfortable. They’re irritating your wings aren’t they? This is why you shouldn’t change anything about yourself for me, I just screw things up for everyone.”
“No you don’t-”
“Yes I do, Dad. Let’s be honest here, I’m a complete fuck up. I mess up everything I’m near. I messed up the family. Everything’s different because of me.”
He moved to kneel in front of you, placing both his hands firmly on your shoulders.
“Look at me, (y/n).”
When you didn’t make any move to look up from your tightly clasped hands, he gingerly moved your chin up and put his hand back on your shoulder. His face was stern and his blue eyes were blazing. Oh god, you really fucked up didn’t you? You knew you shouldn’t have told him anything.
“You are not a fuck up. Do you hear me? You. Are. Not. A. Fuck up.”
“But-”
“Ah,” he sharply chided, “I’m not done. You aren’t a fuck up. You couldn’t control what happened to you. You didn’t know that you’d die when you went into that cave. You didn’t know that you’d lose a limb. You didn’t mess up the family, you could never, ever, do that… (Y/n), change was bound to happen sooner or later. Everything changes, that’s just how life works. Even if we didn’t want change, it’s inevitable.”
He could tell from your bloodshot eyes and wobbling chin that you were about to cry, it was always your tell as a child. In that instance, he saw you as the kid that came running to him after you scraped your knee. An innocent kid that always saw the good in the world. He pulled you into his chest and gently wrapped his wings around you, humming the song he would sing to you when you had a nightmare as a child.
“It’s alright, hun, let it out.”
You finally broke, throwing your arms around him and sobbing into his chest. Your body shook with muffled sobs as you released all the pent up emotion you’ve been deprived of in the last two months. It felt nice to talk to your dad again, to be close to him again. For the first time in two months, you felt completely safe. Your dad will always protect you.
“It’s been so hard Dad,” you blubbered out. “I don’t know what to do. I’m broken, Dad. I can’t be fixed. I feel so empty.”
“Hun, no. You can be fixed, it just takes time. We’re here for you. Me, Technoblade, Wilbur, and Tommy. We’re always going to be here for you no matter what. We’ll help you.”
You fell silent as your body convulsed with silent sobs. You two sat there for what seemed like hours before you finally ran out of tears. You pulled back from him and wiped at your snotty nose.
“I never apologized for what I said to you two months ago. I-I shouldn’t have said any of those things. It hurt you in ways that I’ll probably never understand, and… I’m sorry Dad.”
“(Y/n), you don’t have to apologize. You were scared and you were trying to protect your brothers. That was really brave of you to do, I’m proud of you.”
You threw yourself at him again in a tight, one-winged hug. He chuckled as he hugged you back.
“…Thank you Dad, for everything.”
“Anything for you,” he glanced at the clock you made on your wall. “It’s almost dinner time, let’s go see if your brothers burnt down the kitchen.”
You genuinely smiled at that, remembering the last time your brother cooked together. It was a couple of years ago when you and Philza were coming back from visiting a nearby village. Philza thought it was a spectacular idea to give your brothers the task of cooking dinner. That day, you two came home to a fire engulfing the entire stove and your brothers arguing about whose fault it was. Since then, they weren’t allowed to cook together.
“That’s a good idea, remember the last time they cooked together?”
He chuckled. “Don’t remind me, I nearly pulled out all my feathers cuz of the stress it gave me. I think it even gave me a few gray hairs.”
You snorted. “Well, they’re quiet. Too quiet. We need to go down there before they burn down the house.”
He kissed your hair before you stood up and started to walk to the kitchen. He followed suit, throwing an arm over your shoulders and pulling you into his side. Surprisingly, they didn’t burn down the kitchen. Instead, they actually cooked dinner well. Some of it was burnt, but to their credit, they hadn’t cooked together in a while.
At the dinner table, you felt like you were part of the family again. You laughed with your brothers when Philza scolded them for something they said. You felt like there was a giant weight lifted off from your shoulders. Of course, you were still traumatized and had other issues you had to work out, but now you knew you had your family to help you through it. You wouldn’t ask for anything different.
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@acecarddraws @goldenstarofthunderclan @ravennightingaleandavatempus @dirtydiavolo @yeiras-world @immadatmostthings @hee-hee-haw @jackalopedoodles @m1lkmandan @vanhakirja @im-a-depressed-gay @coolleviauchihadreamerlove @questioning-sanity @camisascam @bongwaterflavoredgatorade @kakamiissad @jayistrash @lifestylesleep @speedymaximoff @sun-shark-tooth @appetiteofapeoplepleaser @lestrangenymph @kinismanditory @dragons-lurk-here @rinzyx05 @the-wandering-pan-ace @sparkling-gayyyy @angelic-scent @shinipii @dont-hug-me-im-a-fander @izzydimensional
#sbi x reader#platonic#sibling reader#philza x reader#technoblade x reader#wilbur soot x reader#tommyinnit x reader#angst#hurt/comfort#mcyt x reader#tw: swearing#tw: ptsd#tw: hallucinations#tw: injury#tw: death#tw: anxiety#tw: depression#tw: suicidal thoughts#tw: self harm#tw: phantom pain#tw: sleep paralysis
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A midjourney prompt for you!! "knight's favour woman in blue dress on battlements in the style of Frederic William Burton" for Thalia/Blackwall?
Thank you, Rosella! This prompt for @dadrunkwriting was fascinating. Here is what Midjourney gave me.
Which... it def does some wonky faces 🤷♀️ but I really liked the look of the rest, so I ran with it! Love an excuse to put Thalia in a dress. Enjoy.
WC: 1513
---
The night was unseasonably warm, well above freezing, with a dampness to the air as the ice that surrounded Skyhold melted and wept. On the one hand, Thalia found it intoxicating, like the possibilities held on the first day of spring after a long, hard winter. On the other, she found it deeply irritating, as the humidity caused her long hair to frizz and curl. Thalia combed her fingers through the tangled mass hanging heavy over her shoulders, adorned with a weave of small, white flowers, as she strode through one of many little used exits to the battlements.
If only she hadn’t let Josephine talk her into wearing her hair down. Or wearing this ridiculous dress: a royal blue, richly embroidered with gold thread on the bodice and sleeves. She looked like a noblewoman, to be sure, but she did not feel like the Inquisitor. Like someone who possessed any power at all.
Perhaps that was why Thalia needed the night air so badly. The dining hall had been hot and stuffy, lit by large hearths at either end of the room. She’d been seated at the head of the table, her back to the crackling blaze, and surrounded by heads of state from the continent over, forced to make small talk. She had risen to the task, though the conversations had been dull, dull and duller still.
Out here, at least, she could think. She strolled the length of the battlements, gazing upward at the dusting of stars. Though braziers lit the way every so many feet, in the space between it was nearly too dark to see. Her hand on the cold stone walls guided her way.
The solitude calmed her. The nearest sentry was clear across the courtyard, and no one loitered the walls this time of night, especially not with a state dinner ongoing. Everyone was either in the dining hall at a place of honor, or drinking the night away at Herald’s Rest. Thalia smirked; she imagined the stir she might cause if she sauntered into the tavern in her full finery. At least a mug of ale, a tavern song, and perhaps a war story from Krem or one of the other Chargers would be more entertaining from the soiree she had just fled.
Up ahead burned another brazier, but to her surprise the warm orange glow illuminated more than the battlement stones. A tall figure shrouded in black stood sentinel against the wall. Thalia tensed, her hand clenching, ready to summon her magic. But as she stepped closer, the silhouette formed into a familiar figure: the Warden Blackwall, leaning over the edge of the wall, holding something. At her footsteps, he shifted, looked in her direction, and the light moved, revealing his hands.
He clutched a handful of wildflowers, identical to the kind that grew outside Skyhold’s stables.
Thalia halted. The moment seemed strangely intimate, the look in his eyes fierce and guarded.
“Am I interrupting something?” she asked, suddenly anxious.
He watched her in silence, gaze dipping from her hair — wilder than ever, with the wind picking up — to the top of her snug bodice, where it lingered long enough for her cheeks to warm. What were feisty girls supposed to say? My eyes are up here? But what if she didn’t mind if he noticed? Why did it have to be tonight, of all nights, when she was dressed up like a bloody peacock?
“I look absurd, I know,” she snapped, trying to tug her hair back into place.
Blackwall averted his gaze toward the dark mountains. “You don’t.”
How he could somehow make one statement sound both complimentary and vaguely angry she never knew. But it set her heart pounding harder in her chest as she gathered up her hair and began braiding it into one long plait, just to get it out of the way. Dare she step closer to him? The breeze was bracing, and the brazier offered a bit of warmth.
“What are you doing out here, anyway?” Thalia asked, irritated by how off-kilter he always seemed to place her.
He didn’t move. “Wasn’t invited to the party. Didn’t feel like joining the others in the tavern.”
“I’m sure we could have found a seat for you,” Thalia said, puzzled. She could have sworn Josephine mentioned asking him to attend as a representative of the Wardens. Or had that been for the Rivaini delegation, not the Orlesian one? There were so many, it was difficult to keep track.
Blackwall snorted. “If it was so riveting, what are you sneaking away for?”
“I didn’t sneak away,” Thalia retorted, finishing with the plait. She smoothed it over one shoulder, tucking the remaining wisps of hair behind her ear. She slid in between him and the brazier, the pool of light warming her. “I made my proper excuses.”
He shifted, lying the tangle of wildflowers on the wall between them. He propped his chin up with one hand, a surprisingly relaxed gesture for one she usually observed so stiff and rigid. He might have been smirking, but it was difficult to tell, between his beard and the dark. “Boring as piss, was it?”
“Lethally,” Thalia admitted, and they both laughed.
She felt a tension ease between them, and she leaned against the wall beside him, poking at the mound of flowers with one finger. The buds were small and white; the name of the plant eluded her. “Seriously though, what are you doing?”
Blackwall expelled a long breath. “Something I’ve been doing for many years.”
He plucked a stem and tossed it out into the void beyond the walls. The wind took it and it vanished into the night.
Thalia frowned. It was an oddly whimsical ritual for such a serious man, but even in profile his face held profound melancholy.
“Today’s the day she died.”
His words stunned Thalia. “Who?” she asked, stupidly. Someone he loved, of course. She thought of all the times his brooding silences stymied her, and wondered if this was the cause. Some woman in his past who broke his heart by dying. Thalia felt an uncharitable pang of envy for her, whoever she was.
Blackwall shook his head, as if he could read her thoughts. “My sister.”
“Oh.” She hadn’t been expecting that at all. “Wow. I’m sorry.”
“It was a long time ago,” Blackwall said, though that clearly did nothing to staunch the grief. “We were both children. I started leaving flowers on the windowsill to remember her, and then different places, and I just… never stopped.”
The weight of this washed over Thalia. It felt like a confession; some glimpse, at last, into who he’d been before they’d met. It made her both sad for him, and proud, that he would choose her to tell.
“I think that’s really beautiful,” she said softly.
He was watching her again, his face aglow in the light of the brazier. She stared back, straightening her shoulders, wondering what it was he looked for when he did that, and whether she provided it. All she knew was his gaze could tie her stomach in knots; could make her ache for something she’d never quite been able to name. She worried what might happen, if she ever called him on it, ever dared him to act.
Blackwall reached for another flower. Thalia placed her hand over his, stilling it. She could feel the warmth of his skin even though the fabric of his glove. Eyes flicking to her face, he entwined his fingers with hers with no protest, no hesitation.
Thalia’s breath caught. The silence lingered. Blackwall gently rubbed the back of her palm with this thumb, and she thought she might combust.
“My lady,” he said suddenly, releasing her. She had to turn away, just to regain her composure, and nearly missed his next words. “I’ve been wondering if I could make a request.”
Thalia felt a little dizzy from the abrupt shift. She wanted to go back to touching him, to understand what it meant. “What is it, Blackwall?”
“I… worry about you in battle,” he admitted. He dug through a pocket, withdrawing a worn red ribbon. “I hoped that perhaps you could accept a favor from me. To keep you safe.”
“You want to give me a favor?” Warmth flooded her, as did confusion. “But… in all the romances, it’s the lady who gives her knight a favor, to keep him safe.”
“Don’t see why it can’t be the other way ‘round.” Blackwall held up the ribbon in his palm for her to see.
“Was that hers?” Thalia asked quietly. “Your sister’s?”
He nodded.
“Yes,” she said. “I’d be honored.”
“May I?”
Yes. Touch me again. “Of course.”
He slipped behind her, taking hold of her long plait. She could feel him tying the ribbon around the bottom length of her hair. His fingers lingered there, brushing her lower back.
“Is that all right?” His voice was low in her ear.
“More than,” Thalia said, and told herself the reason she shivered was the cold.
#thalia trevelyan#blackwall#blackwall x trevelyan#midjourney#fics#dragon age drunk writing circle#thalia girl you're in waaaaay over your head
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Nice can we get some spicy Harry Warden spending his first Valentines day with his s/o? (Preferably fem)
I’ve never written quite a strong NSFW before so I’m sorry if it’s a bit weird or lame 😂 I hope by spicy you did mean nsfw, if not I’m so sorry! 😂 I feel like I took too long to actually get to the spicy bits 😂 so if you get bored skip down about 14 paragraphs, that’s when it gets to the nsfw! 🤍
Harry Warden x Fem s/o (very NSFW)
February 14th, the day you know Harry isn’t fond of, had finally came around. You and Harry had been together for a few months now. He wasn’t much of a celebrator when it came to any holiday, but you know Valentines Day was a bit of a trigger for him. You didn’t exactly know what to expect as this was your first one together, and you hadn’t seen him since yesterday afternoon.
You have your own apartment not too far from the mines, Harry stays at your place a lot though. He likes to know you’re safe and be able to watch over you. Plus he gets a nice view of the town from your window as your apartment is pretty high up. But he prefers to pick his next victim from there rather than look at the scenery.
You do go to the mines with him sometimes, but you prefer not to as it is really cold and damp, sometimes Harry leaves dead bodies lying around too which is quite stomach churning. Once he realises your discomfort though, he moves them instantly and throws them down the mining chute. You can’t even imagine how many bodies are down there.
Harry tries to make you feel at home when you’re there by filling his furnace up with wood to make sure you’re warm, he puts the radio on to give you some noise to listen to, as he doesn’t talk much. But you don’t mind, just his company is enough to keep you happy. It always plays classic 80s music, it’s the only music he will listen to, so don’t ever try to change the channel.
Harry was very shy at first, you only really knew you had started dating him when he began to bring crystals from the mines to your door along with small notes covered in soot, usually they only consisted of him telling you how nice you looked today, or that he’d be coming by later. He wouldn’t be there when you opened the door at first. He would just leave the crystals along with a note outside your door in a pouch for you to pick up, you knew he would be watching you read his notes from somewhere though. Another thing he did, is he would watch you as you worked and if anyone flirted with you, they wouldn’t be in the next day, or any days after that. You didn’t want to know exactly what happened to them, but you had an idea. Once he got more confident though, he would knock at your door and before you could even open it fully he would barge it all the way open, knocking you back. Of course he caught you before you fell every time though, and he would yank you into him for hugs, getting soot and blood all over you and your clothes.
Once he was comfortable, he definitely made himself at home, he would immediately plonk his sooty ass on your couch and drop his pickaxe at his feet, then motion you to come sit in his lap. Oh you don’t want your clothes getting dirty with the soot? Tough shit, he would get up and drag you to the couch and place you in his lap himself. Harry is VERY touch starved, so any chance he got he was touching you or pulling you into him so he could feel you against him. You could be cooking and he would be behind you instantly, hands wrapped around your waist, watching over your shoulder, rattling your ears with his heavy breathing under the gas mask. Of course you liked that though. When it came to bedtime, if he was staying over, he would be in the bed first. You didn’t want soot and half dried blood all over your bedding? Oh well, guess you’re washing it in the morning, because there’s no shifting this heavy bastard. Soon as you walked into your bedroom he would already be sitting up waiting for you, he would pat your side of the bed, telling you to get in. He didn’t move much through the night, he just held your hand in his leather gloved one. The whole night that is, if you tried to move he would grip your hand tighter.
It was getting darker by the minute as you were getting ready for your night shift, but you couldn’t really focus on anything due to wondering where Harry was. You thought he would have woken you up if stayed over last night but when you woke and looked to his side of the bed, all you seen was the sooty outline of his body. He must have kept quiet, which was strange for him. He usually barges in and the sound of his dense, blood coated pickaxe hitting the floor usually wakes you.
You were getting your bag ready for the night shift but you got knocked out of your thoughts by the banging on your apartments door, you sighed as you placed your bag on the kitchen counter before making your way to answer it. You were hoping it was Harry, you wanted to see if he was doing okay, today of all days, but as you opened the door, to your disappointment, it was just your neighbour from across the corridor. She asked if you knew what all the soot in the hallway was as it came to and from your apartment. You just shook your head and closed the door in her face, you couldn’t be bothered dealing with anyone’s shit right now. You had 30 minutes to get to work and you wanted to fill Harry’s Valentines card out before you left, just in case he came by. You didn’t know how he would react to receiving a card, but you hoped it would be a positive reaction.
You finished writing his card just in time before having to set off to work, you reread it just to double check it sounded okay.
“To my Harry, Happy Valentines Day. It’s our first one together, so I wasn’t sure on getting you a card but I couldn’t resist! Looking forward to seeing you once I’m done with work, lots of love.”
That should do, you thought. You didn’t want to overdo it as it was your first Valentines with him and you weren’t even sure if he wanted to celebrate it in the first place. You sealed the red envelope and left it on the kitchen counter so he would see it as soon as he walked through the door.
You grabbed your bag and hoisted it onto your shoulder as you walked towards your door, as you pulled it open and went to walk out, you were met with those black, sooty overalls. His musky scent filling your senses, you looked up and were met with that gas mask of his, followed by his heavy breathing. “Oh- hey Harry, I was just on my way to work, I got you a card. It’s on the counter if you want it.” You said nervously, as you fidgeted with your bag strap on your shoulder. Harry looked up from your face, leaning slightly to the side to look over your shoulder into the apartment, noticing the red envelope. He looked down to you suddenly, causing your breath to hitch. “I need t-“ before you could even get your sentence out, Harry abruptly swung his left hand from behind his back, you flinched, closing your eyes preparing for the worst. Nothing happened.. as you opened your eyes back up, he was holding out a red, heart shaped box. You were shocked to say the least, you weren’t expecting anything from Harry as you knew he wasn’t fond of Valentines Day. “You- you got me something?” You asked. He nodded, holding the box out closer to you, urging you to take it. “Thank you Harry!” You gushed, taking the box from his gloved hand. You were a bit apprehensive to open it as you had heard the stories of Harry leaving human hearts in chocolate boxes, but as you opened it, you were surprised to see it was actually full of chocolates. A smile lit up your face, which made Harry perk up and fidget a little. “I can’t wait to share these with you later! Thank you so much!” You exclaimed as you wrapped your arms around the top of his shoulders, he returned the embrace, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you tightly to him. You did feel some dampness as you held him though, and that familiar smell of blood filled your nose, it definitely hadn’t been long since his recent kill.
As gross as it was, you still loved being held by him, but unfortunately, the hug had to end so that you could go to work. “I have to get to work, but I’ll see you later and we can have a nice late night together if you’d like?” You asked. Harry pulled away, looking down at you, he didn’t move for a few seconds, then he shook his head. “No? You don’t want to spend time together tonight?” He nodded, “You do want to? Then what are you saying no to?” He didn’t respond straight away, but then you heard that husky, deep voice you hardly ever hear, “Work.” He edged himself closer to you, causing you to slightly step back. His body stood in the doorframe, taking up the entirety of it, blocking you from leaving. “Harry, I have to go I could get fir-“ He pushed you back into your apartment, causing you to stumble backwards. He slammed the door behind him, dragging his bloody pickaxe and placing it under the door handle, preventing anyone from coming in, he then turned to you. “No.” You felt his voice rattle through you, his tone callous. He wasn’t messing around, you weren’t going to work it seemed. “Okay, well I’ll have to call them and say I can’t make it Harry. I can’t just not turn up.” He stood there, breathing heavily, watching every step you took as you walked to place your bag on the kitchen counter and take your phone out to call your boss. Luckily your boss picked up the phone instantly, you told her you couldn’t make it today as something just came up. She wasn’t happy due to the late notice, but she just told you to make up for it by coming in earlier tomorrow.
As you put the phone down Harry’s frame loosened, he edged closer to the red envelope on the counter. “Go ahead, open it.” You told him. He grabbed it, causing black soot to coat over most of it. He took the card out, staring at the front of it, which had a silhouette of a couple kissing and a banner saying Happy Valentines. He stared for a few seconds, you had never actually kissed Harry. He never takes his mask off in front of you, which bothered you a little bit as it would be nice to feel his lips against yours, and to actually see his eyes instead of those blacked out, glass frames on his gas mask once in a while. He opened it, reading the contents silently. He stayed quiet for a while, before looking up at you, staring at you whilst stroking the card slightly with his gloved thumb. “Do you like it?” You ask, eagerly awaiting his response. He doesn’t say anything, he just places the card back on the counter and starts walking towards you swiftly, you had no idea what he was doing. He had never came at you so aggressively.
Harry was barely even an inch in front of you when he stopped abruptly, towering over your frame, you could feel his gaze burning into you. You were nervous to look up, you didn’t know if this was a good reaction or a bad one. You felt his right hand tug at the hem of your jeans, causing you to stumble even closer into his large frame. “Harry what are yo-“ he put his left gloved hand over your mouth, as you looked up at the glassed eyes of his mask, all you heard was his deep, stern voice “Quiet.” You had no idea what was going on, he had never been this forward before. You nodded, agreeing to not ask questions. He brought both of his hands to the buttons of your jeans, undoing them frantically. He is touch starved after all, he had wanted to touch your body for a long time now, but he was waiting for this day. Considering everyone says it’s the day of love and all that. You didn’t resist, because you wanted this just as much as he did.
He pressed forward, forcing you to move with him, he lowered you onto the couch, giving him the ability to pull your jeans off of your legs, you couldn’t help but blush. You felt the heat rush to your cheeks, Harry noticed this, he loved seeing you so flustered. Knowing he had this power over you, it got him even more excited. His member was hardening with each second that passed. He needed you, and you knew how much you needed him. Your jeans were ripped completely off at this point, you felt the cold air hit your bare legs. Harry traced his gloved hand over your white, lace panties, leaving a slight trail of black soot mixed with blood from his finger. His breathing started to get heavier, you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second. Harry got to you in ways no one else ever had, just him looking at you made you weak, never mind all of this. Your t shirt didn’t stay on for long, he yanked that off, nearly causing it to rip from the force. You were left in your white lace bra and panties, the cold air nipping at your skin as his gaze burned into every inch of your being. He was fascinated by your body, so soft, so small, compared to his.
Harry got up suddenly, you had no idea what he was doing, but you were aching for him. He can’t strip you and get you all flustered to just leave. “Where are you going?!” You yelled, to which there was no reply, all you seen was the room go black. He had switched the light off. “Harry?” Nothing. No response, until you heard heavy footsteps inching closer to you, along with leaden breathing. His mask was still on, that’s for sure. You didn’t say anything as you felt his presence approach you, the heavy footsteps from his boots stopping abruptly, inches in front of the couch where you were left waiting for him. “Take them off.” He commanded, causing you to blush and become flustered. “What?” You asked nervously, “You know what. Take them off, or I will.” He growled, causing your whole body to shudder. You shifted in your seat, not sure what to expect next, you put your thumb under the hem of your panties to begin pulling them down, but Harry was impatient. Do you not realise how long he has been waiting to make you his? He lets out a frustrated sigh, emphasised by his mask. All you felt was his gloved hands brushing against your thighs as he pulled your panties down, dropping them to the floor, beside his boots. He could see pretty well in the dark as he had grown accustomed to making his way around down in the dark mines, but you could barely even make out his silhouette, you could only just see his body heaving up and down from his breathing, but you knew he was staring at you. “Mine.” He growled to himself, just loud enough for you to hear, causing even more heat to rush to your core.
The tension between the two of you was agonising, he just stood there taking the sight of you in, making you wait. Was he doing this on purpose? Did he know how much this was affecting you? You heard him move ever so slightly, from what you could make out in the dark, he had lowered himself onto one knee. His gas mask level with your face, before you could react, you felt his leather gloved hands push your legs open, causing you to lose balance and slide down the couch slightly, you gasped and stabilised yourself with your hands either side of you. Harry was brushing his right hand up your right thigh, causing a streak of blood and soot to trail up your leg. He loved seeing blood on your skin, it was like art to him. Knowing his most recent kill was marked on you, this made him start breathing rather erratically. He found it so hot. He couldn’t resist, you felt one of his gloved fingers enter your heat, moving it in and out ever so slowly at first, causing you to melt into his touch as he put a second finger in. You hadn’t been touched there in so long, you had forgotten how it felt. You didn’t even care that he left his bloodstained, soot covered glove on as his fingers eased in and out of you, making your breathing heavy and your body feel waves of pleasure. Harry was fascinated by how wet you were for him, your fluids mixing with the small amount of blood made him throb from excitement. He couldn’t wait to be inside you, to feel your warm, sticky core taking his cock. He couldn’t resist it any longer, his fingers left you, making you feel empty. You heard him get up from the floor, he was stood upright now, looking down at you. You heard the zip to his black, mining coveralls coming undone. You were yearning for him, you wanted him inside of you so bad. Every second felt like a minute, but this is Harry. You won’t be getting what you want just yet, he made you feel good just now, time to return the favour. “Sit up.” He ordered, you did as you were told, you couldn’t see as it was still pitch black in the room, but Harry’s length was solid, and of course, the only thing that could ease it was you. Your mouth was at the perfect height to take his cock, and you better believe he is going to take advantage of your pretty little mouth. You felt his gloved hand stroke your cheek, then his thumb tracing your lips. “Open up for me.” He growled, you obliged, opening your mouth, all the while still aching to feel him inside you. You felt the tip of his cock brush past your lips, onto your tongue, filling your mouth, causing your tastebuds to twang. You were expecting him to taste dirty, considering he hadn’t showered in a few days, but he didn’t. You didn’t know what soot tasted like, but you do now. The chalky substance soon watered down once Harry started gently thrusting his cock in and out of your slick mouth, brushing his hands through your hair, “Good girl, yes. That’s my good girl.” He muttered over and over every time you took the full length of him inside your mouth and down your throat, causing you to slightly gag. Harry wasn’t exactly small, you had never had someone this size. He was both girthy and long, perfectly evened out. This was a slight concern though, you kept thinking about how much smaller than him you were, hopefully he wouldn’t go too rough when he is inside you. Or hopefully he will.
Harry’s breathing was slower and heavier. You tasted his pre-cum overtake your tongue just before he slowly pulled out of your mouth, “Good girl, now stand up.” He commanded. You wiped the slight mix of saliva and Harry’s pre-cum from your lips with your hand as you lifted yourself up off of the couch. “Why?” You asked, eagerly awaiting his response. To which he never gave you an answer, he leant down, grabbing the backs of your thighs with his gloved hands, one with some of the fingers still wet from being inside of you. He lifted up against him, you wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck as he lead you both towards the bedroom. This caused your heart to feel like it was beating out of your chest, all you could hear was his heavy breathing from under his mask and the heavy footsteps of his boots leading you to the bed. He booted the door to the bedroom open with ease, rushing inside, placing you down onto the bed. He leant down, arms reaching around your back to undo your bra. He unclipped it with such ease, tossing it to the side, “Lay down.” He instructed. You laid back, anticipating his next move, you were craving his body against yours, every time he touched you it was like a fiery blaze rushed through your entire being. It was darker in the bedroom than it was out in the living room and kitchen area, so you couldn’t really see Harry at all. You heard the sound of metal unclipping, followed by the sound of a rush of air coming out of his mask. He’d taken it off, for the first time he was maskless, right in front of you. You wanted to see his face so bad but you knew to respect his privacy, if he wanted to show you his face, he would in his own time. The sound of him unlacing his boots and stepping out of his coveralls came next, you now knew he was completely naked. He doesn’t wear anything under his mining gear, which made your stomach flutter with excitement. You felt the bed lower as he got onto it, moving towards you. You felt him leaning over your body, peering down at you. “Don’t turn a light on, or you’ll know about it.” He growled, “I won’t” you replied, swallowing the nervous lump in your throat. “Good girl. Now lay still.” His voice was so deep even without the gas mask, you couldn’t help but bite your lip in anticipation. He lowered himself so that he was inches away from your face, you heard him inhale through his nose, taking in your scent. He hadn’t smelt you without the gas mask before, and your scent drove him crazy. He pressed his surprisingly soft lips against yours, caressing your face with his bare hand as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. “So- precious.” He whispered between the kisses, his lips sent you into some kind of frenzy, you couldn’t get enough of him, it was so nice to finally feel his lips and skin against yours for once, instead of his leather gloves and rough coveralls.
Harry began to lower his hands, caressing your breasts as he buried his face into your neck, kissing it unrelentingly. He craved every inch of you, he couldn’t help himself, his hands started to feel up and down your waist and hips, his teeth sinking into your skin with teasing bites, causing you to wince and moan at the painful pleasure. Harry is gentle, but once his animalistic side gets the better of him, his dominance shows. He pushed himself up, parting your legs and readying his cock at your entrance. You didn’t have time to prepare as he slid himself into you, he stretched you out so fast, you felt your walls clenching around his length, causing you to gasp and moan with the pleasurable shock. He was relentless, he didn’t give you a chance to adjust to his size before pounding into you, his right hand reaching down to your throat and gripping with force, causing your breathing to hitch. He loved seeing you so helpless, taking his cock like a good girl whilst the hands he has used to kill so many were on you, he could kill you right now if he wanted to, whilst fucking you senseless. This sent him into a frenzy, he lowered both of his hands to your hips, gripping them to give him the stability to pound every inch of himself into you. You didn’t even have time to catch your breath from him choking you before he made you breathless again, his cock reaching parts of your core you didn’t even know were reachable. You couldn’t focus on anything but the pleasure rising with every stroke of his member thrusting deeply into your heat, you were so close to cumming that you had to grab onto him forearms to keep yourself stable, you were surprised you hadn’t both fallen off of the bed from the sheer force he was ramming into you. Your body feeling jolts of pleasure throughout it every time Harry thrusted himself all the way into you, hitting the spot just right. Harry was nearing his edge too, he couldn’t get over how tight you were and how well you fit around his cock. His little angel looked so dirty with the soot and bloodstains from his hands all over your body and throat, causing him to buck into you with every ounce of energy he had left, making you hit your climax as he railed into the deepest part of you, whilst hitting your clit just right, “Oh god- Harry yes, YES.” You whined euphorically, hearing you moan his name drove Harry wild, knowing he made you feel so good with his cock, it made him pound into you mercilessly, feeling your tight, wet walls engulf every inch of him, he gripped your throat once again, just to see you at his mercy as he unloads himself into your heat. “Yes, yes. Good girl, su- such a good girl for me.” He moaned, whilst tightening his grip on your throat, making your vision blur. All you could feel was his cock throbbing against your walls as his cum oozed into you. His breathing erratic, he lowered himself back down to you, easing his grip around your neck, planting a kiss on your forehead. “Mine.” He whispered, rolling off of you. He had claimed you as his. You couldn’t believe what you had just experienced, you knew your first time with Harry would be amazing, but you couldn’t even think straight because of how much he had just devoured you.
You heard Harry get up off of the bed, and begin to get dressed again. You heard his coveralls zip up, then his mask click back into place and his breathing become rattled and heavy again. He switched the light back on once he was his ‘normal self’. He just stood, staring at you, his chest heaving in and out. “I’m going to get in the shower, you can come in with me if you like?” You asked, hoping he would agree because he definitely needed one after that. He shook his head and replied, “After.” To which you gathered was because he still wasn’t ready for you to see his face just yet. As you went into the bathroom, Harry couldn’t stop thinking about everything that had just happened. He usually hates this day, but this was the best day he’d had in a long time. He won’t ever tell you that though. He went out into the kitchen, heading towards the door to get his pickaxe, but before he reached it, the card you had gotten him caught his attention. He was staring at the couple kissing on the front of it, it had been so long since he had kissed someone. Feeling your lips against his made him feel something he hasn’t felt in a long time, he never thought he’d feel love on Valentine’s Day ever again. But you proved him wrong. He shook himself out of his thoughts, Harry was an old fashioned man. He didn’t think dwelling on feelings was necessary. So he put the card into his coverall chest pocket, and headed to his pickaxe.
You stepped into the hot shower, the beads of water caressing and cleaning your recently devoured body. You didn’t know, but Harry was watching you from the slight crack in the door. What you weren’t expecting, was five minutes into your shower, to feel his presence right behind you. As you looked to the floor of the shower, you seen the black, soot filled water running down the drain. You froze for a minute, not knowing whether to turn around, but you couldn’t resist. You really wanted to see his face. As you turned, you seen his chest first, which had dark brown hairs and scars scattered across it, you lifted your hands to brush over them, he has been through so much. You knew not all of these scars were just from his victims fighting back, some of them were from when the mine collapsed. It hurt knowing how alone he must have been for so many years. You looked up and were met with his dark, icy blue eyes, they were gorgeous. His hair was a dark brown and his skin pale, which was no surprise because how on earth would this guy get any sun wearing that mining get up everyday. You couldn’t help but stare, he was so handsome. Your gaze made him look away, no one had seen his face in so many years and he wasn’t used to getting looked upon for so long. You lifted your hand to his face, turning his head, making him face you again. “Thank you, Harry.” He looked down at you, before suddenly getting out of the shower and tugging the shower curtain back over, you could hear him putting his coveralls and mask back on from the other side. You stalled for a minute, giving him some space, then you went to open the curtain but he beat you to it. You were met with the blacked out glass frames of his mask, “Happy Valentine’s Day, angel.” He whispered, as he backed up and lowered himself onto the chair in the corner of the bathroom, leaning forward, his legs slightly apart, resting his arms on them while spinning his pickaxe in his hands as he watched you finish cleaning up the body he had just claimed.
I’m sorry it’s so long and it took a while to release! I thought it would be good to release it on Valentine’s Day 😂 but I hope you like it! 🤍🤍
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