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lady-ashfade · 4 months ago

Note

Could I please have blueberry cookies with Jacaerys for hotd?

Made A Fool.

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!Reader

Bakery Event - closed

╰･ﾟ✧☽ summery: after the betrothal to the Prince Jacaerys, you thought it would be the happiest moments of your life given your years spent with him. Happiest is a sliver of what you feel, after he avoids your every move.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ words: 2.2k

╰･ﾟ✧☽ warnings: Luke never dies, rhaenryas miscarriage is mentioned, angst, jace being dick, jace accusing you because he’s jealous, betrothal, angst with a happy ending, readers family being near the Starks and long family friends, arguing.

⤻ I got carried away so this is longer then it should be.

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚ 🍪 ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚

During your young years at dragon stone, you found yourself becoming great companions with the princess’s sons. Rhaenyra took you into her home with open arms, she raised you like her own when your mother was a sea away. But her eldest son was easily the most precious thing you come to love, it started out when he gave you flowers— actually weeds— but pretty nonetheless and warmed your heart like dragon fire.

The both of you glued to each others side as the years went by, no one could deny the smiles and laughs you’d share like nothing else matter. Jace was a gentle man, held no grudge or power over you for being born a woman, even encouraged you to learn the sword with him. His blood was of the dragon so he had tendencies to be hot headed and rash when angered. All it took was the gentle touch of your fingertips on his cheeks to calm the dragon within him. Though, you two never knew of each others true feelings, he knew you cared very deeply for him.

“And what do you think of this?” Her grace looked softly at you, sitting down with a pained expression from the loss of the babe in her belly. The question of if you wanted the proposal to her eldest son, something your father wished for his loyalty to her claim. Throughout the years your father never mentioned that he even liked jace, in each letter sent he reminded you that your only duty was to the princess. So, you wonder is this had been his plan all along? A son for his daughter—Dragons for his grandchildren.

“Your grace, I ensure you that I did not come here for a marriage pa-” her smile and hushed laughter stopped you, and made your head tilt in confusion. Rhaenyra ran her hands along her lap, something was amusing to her and made embarrassment sit restless inside you. “I know, sweetgirl. There was never a doubt you were here for this, you care for my boys and me, that much is very clear.” her words made you relived. Her hands moved to the cushion beside her to signal you over. “Join me,”

You obeyed her wish and walked over nervously, the conversation to come was running in your mind of every way this could go. She didn’t see you fit for her son—not good enough. Or even worse, could call you greedy for being her only for her sons even it wasn’t the truth. Everything was spinning as you took your place next to her. “What I asked was if you wanted this marriage? I am forever grateful for you and your family and the support for the war to come, I will agree to the betrothal— but I believe you should have a say in this.”

Gulping the spit in your mouth to cover the butterflies in your throat you stare for a second to get the right words in your head. Jacaerys was the love of your life for years, your own prince from the story books told to young girls. To imagine actually get to be betrothed to him was a dream come true but also a nightmare to convey out loud. “My queen, I will do my duty if you wish.” You picked at your nails while avoiding her gaze. The queen reached her hand to caress your cheek, while turning your head to face her. There was no greater feeling then her soften gaze, “Do you want this? You’re answer will never hurt me.” and you knew you couldn’t refuse the offer because it made your heart happy.

“Yes, Your Grace. I would be pleased to marry Jacaerys.”

The announcement pleased the court of men, knowing your family’s army wouldn’t bend the knee to aegon, even though jace smiled at you- he walked to the other side right after and began to ignore you. Of course, you put it off as his duties were more important and he meant no offense. As men pushed your house piece along the board, giving your impression of what your father wanted, jace kept his eyes off you as you spoke. And you knew he could feel your staring. Again, at dinner while you took your place beside him— his attention was anywhere but on you. This didn’t go unnoticed by only you, his brother Luke happened to think it strange. He was always all over you and now he can’t spare you one look?

Luke decided to save you from feeling lonely and embarrassed so he decided to turn on his charm, something you always thought was adorable about the boy. He would whisper some jokes only for your ears, and as your cheeks flushed red from the wine served he finally asked you to join him for a dance. Though the dinner was small, and in the middle of a war- it was still a celebration of alliance. Decided to dance with Luke, you had a fun time and forgot about jace for a while. This was supposed to be a good day, so you’ll have to push yourself. Luke was like a brother to you, so it was easy to be entertained by him.

The absence of jace brought you down, it’s been a few days since you two actually had a conversation, or he’d actually look at you without someone else expecting him to. Yes, you understand the war at hand, and how much needs to be done and you can’t have his attention all the time. But he made no efforts to speak with you, or acted like he used to—Acted like your future husband. That’s what sprouted anger within you, and you were annoyed and snapped easily.

“My men with have a easier time rallying in the north, my letters to Cregan-” the words cut from your mouth when jace interrupted. His jaw tighter and a harsh glare made it harder to not burst into a screaming match. He had been giving attitude to his mother with the same expression. He hadn’t looked at you in weeks and this is what he was doing?

“You sent letters to Cregan? Why? I visited him nearly days ago,” his voice raised and made everyone in the room look back and forth wonder if they should cut in. “He offered graybeards.”

You roll your eyes at him, “The Starks have been my friends with my family for years, I convinced him to lend a few, young men. No old bones, no offense my lords, but men with stranger arms.” The way he was looking at you, you’d been dead. Many years you saw him angry, annoyed and ready to fight anything that crosses him. Never did you think you’d be on the end of his temper.

“Tell me, how exactly you persuaded him?” everyone could tell he meant nothing well by his accusing statement. You huff and get ready to comment when Rhaenrya placed and hand on your shoulder while Luke got in Jaces vision of you. “And I thank you for that, any swords are welcome.” She rubbed your skin and moved her head towards the door, allowing you to leave as you were visibly upset. Excusing your leaving, Jace watched you leave and turned his whole body. He couldn’t shake the feel inside when the meeting continued and didn’t speak a word, his thoughts only on you.

Jace marched through the halls with haste to your chambers, he saw no reason to knock so the door opened with him already flaring his nostrils. The surprise of the door opening with forced and quickly made you jump from your table, the ink dropped onto your skin from the quill in your hand dropping as you stood up from the chair. “What’s the meaning of this? You can’t just-” Jace walks towards you, making you back up at his pace.

“Me? It’s I who should be asking same question, what in the seven hells was that? Back in the war room?” he yelled at you. You stood only a few steps away and could practically could feel heat from him caused by his seething anger.

“What, are you accusing me of starting it? I simply stated my opinion with my houses army. You couldn’t handle me disagreeing with you?” You head twists and turn with your words, and eyes look all over the room.

He groaned and his eyes darkened, he stood closer to yell in your face. “I have a problem with my betrothed making it known she sends letters to another man. You must want me to look a fool. Have you and him been sending letters for years?” your mouth drops in disbelief at his ignorance words, “He told me he only could give old men, but you somehow convinced him to give us more? Has he declared his love for you, do you swoon in the letters for him?”

“You idiot, you think you have the right to ask me- To think that of me?” You push his chest back away from you, then walk away with a annoyed laugh.

Standing with your hands arching your back on your hips, you look back at him, “It has been you who ignores me frequently, pasted nights without a word from you other then small formalities.” rubbing the skin on your forehead, you breath heavily. “All I have done is be there by your side, never let my feelings get in the way of our friendship. I’d think you’d at least honor that, but somehow you hate the thought of marriage to me so much you pretend I cease to exist.” only now was he knocked off thoughts when your eyes became slightly glossy. Jace couldn’t tell if it was in sadness or anger, or both.

“So no, Your Grace. If you speculate I ever did anything to make Cregan think he’d fight for me, or give him the idea I wanted him. You’d be deadly wrong. Because I have spent years hoping, that one day, you’d care about me that same why I do for you.” turning around to hide the tears escaping, you grab the chair to calm yourself down. He deserved no tears from you or to see you broken, so you had to collect yourself before him.

Brown orbs stares at the back of your head, arms wanted to reach out and comfort you like he did before. Jace never meant to make you feel like this nor that he hates the idea of being with you, romantically. The one things he could never truly show was weakness and when he heard you’d be his, that’s all he felt. Knowing that his enemies would target you. That if you were in trouble you and hurt? It would be his fault.

“Seven hells,” he whispered and tugged at the skin own lips. “Forgive me, for being a jest. I never thought about how you would feel.” straightening yourself and whipped off the tears from your cheeks, you keep your eyes on the wall ahead with your back still turned.

“This betrothal…It brings me joy. From a little boy I have always thought you were a beauty, wanted to fight for your attention against my brother.” the memory of his youth made him smile, “I thought that if I distance myself from you— You’d be safer from the dangers from the greens. I would die if something happened to you just because I love you.”

Spinning around towards him, your brows frown, “You love me?” he nodded his head.

“I do. I have since our youth when you loved the flowers i brought you, even though you knew it was weeds, but you put them into your hair, and placed the prettiest behind my ear.” he admitted. The distant laughter filled both of your minds of that wonderful day, the same day you had also fallen for him.

“You have a strange way of showing it.” You mocked with a growing smile. Jace was hesitant to walk closer, he was unsure if you wanted him to after everything. Your eyes drew him close, and let him get so close that you placed your hand on his chest.

“I am at a threat with or without our marriage, let us face the dangers together. I don’t want either of us to be alone.” taking his heated cheek into your palm, you looked into his eye’s wishful for him never to pull away. The touch was simple, but it had him caving underneath you and wanted more. Licking his lips he stared at yours, hoping you would give him the consent to close the gap between the both of you. One small agreement of a nod he was pressing his lips against yours, his hands resting themselves onto your hips. First kisses are soft, gentle but he was passionate and a little edger to finally get his wish. His hold on you tightened protectively as if someone was threatening you in the moment.

Pulling away from the kiss, both your mouthes covered in wetness, and cheeks heated with hormones. “Are you sure cregan hasn’t declared anything for you? He’d be a fool if not-” you took his lips onto yours to shut him up and his playful jealousy.

A dragon protects what is theirs, and as his future queen consort, he was nothing if not overprotective over you.

#jacaerys velaryon #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon #jacaerys velaryon x reader #Jacaerys Velaryon angst to comfort #Luke is alive #platonic rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #lucerys velaryon x reader #bakery event

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domxmarvel · 2 years ago

Text

Crown

Masterlist

Pairing:Gren x Female!Reader

Slot: Queen/King!Reader

“Y/N” There was a knock on your door as your dad called out your name,you quickly opened the door.

“Yes,dad”

“Will you be joining us for tea,your Amaya will be there too”

“Amaya’s here”

“Well,on her way”

“I need to get changed” You quickly closed the door but quickly opened it again “Thank you,dad” You knew every time Amaya would visit Gren would be with her and you’d take every opportunity to spend time with him. You were still young when your dad met your step mother,so you spent the majority of your life with her and your brothers. Even though you weren’t related to Callum,you still saw both of them as your real brothers. As a result that also meant you spent a lot of time with Amaya and Gren,he thought you sign language and you quickly fell for him,you were close in age so it wasn’t weird. While he was at the breach you’d exchange letters,until you’d get to see each other again.

You were the first of your siblings to join them at the table,Amaya quickly stood up and ran up to give you a hug,Gren standing beside her.

“You’ve gotten taller since last time” She signed,thanks to Gren you were pretty fluent and could both understand and answer.

“I missed you”

“We have a lot to catch up on,but I think someone else missed you more” She smiled and went to sit back down,leaving you with Gren. Both of you instantly started blushing,you were interrupted before you could say anything. Callum and Ezran ran in,Callum ran into you,making you fall on top of Gren.

“Boys slow down” Your dad quickly ran up,Gren helped you up and despite you standing steady,still had his arm around you. He quickly moved it when Amaya started signing.

***

You had already changed into your night robes and were brushing your hair,when there was a knock on your bedroom door.

“Come in” You already knew who it was,this was how you spent the night whenever he was there. You heard the sound of the door being locked as you locked eyes with him through the mirror.

“I missed you” You stood up,letting him wrap his arms around you and kiss your neck “So much” You turned around in his arms,cupping his face and kissing him. You kissed his entire face down to his neck as you pushed him back until his legs hit your bed,you pushed him down onto your bed and straddled him.

“Y/N,we can’t. At least not now” He always stopped you if he knew you’d get caught,of course the castle was the worst place because you’d probably get caught immediately.

“How long will you be staying?”

“Just for tonight,we’ll be heading back in the morning”

“Will you write to me?”

“Of course,I love you” He whispered so that only you could hear.

“I love you too”

***

It’s been two years since the dragon prince was returned to Xadia,starting an era of peace. You became queen at that time and Both Viren and Claudia were arrested. In that time a lot of stuff happened,you got closer to Rayla and Janai,Amaya announced to you that she was getting married. You however were still with Gren,but you were more subtle,mostly because you were busy. Thankfully almost everything had calmed down and you invited him to the castle.

“You wanted to see me,your highness”

“You know there’s no need for that” You grabbed his hand “Follow me” You lead him to your bedroom. “Lock the door” You grabbed the box of your table.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“I wanted to ask you a very important question” You opened the box,revealing a crown that matched yours. “Gren,will you marry me?”

“Do you really want me as your king? I mean I rarely spend time at the castle and I’m not royalty. What if they don’t accept me?

“I do,Gren. I've been waiting to ask you this question for the past four years. There’s no one else I’d rather spend the rest of my life with and if someone has a problem with that they’ll have to take it up with me” He smiled at you,lighting up the room with his smile alone “The scariest and most difficult part will be telling Amaya,nothing’s scarier. If we can get through that we can get through anything” He laughed.

“I accept,but we should wait with this” He gestures to the crown,closing the box you set it back down. “Hope I’m not disappointing you,by not getting to see me in a crown”

“I’m not disappointed,I just need to wait,than I’ll get to see you in a crown everyday”

#gren x reader #commander gren #tdp gren #gren #the dragon prince x reader #the dragon prince bingo #the dragon prince imagine #the dragon prince #tdp bingo #tdp x reader #tdp #tdp season 4 #the dragon prince season 4 #the dragon prince s4

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x-bluefire-heart-x · 2 years ago

Text

The Limitations

Here is the next chapter of my Skryrim/Dragon Age Inquisition story. I’m not entirely sure if people are reading this but I’ll still post it just in case. And I hope people enjoy.

Warnings: Violence, there is a battle scene described in detail in this chapter. A lot of swearing.

Master List

Prompt List

“Wonder if I can summon Shadowmere here,” Aycria mused as her and her companions finally come upon the Hinterlands. “Sithis I miss that psycho horse.”

“Shadowmere?” Varric asked. Aycria looked towards him, pondering for a moment if it would be wise to explain fully or just vaguely mention how she came to own Shadowmere.

“Yes, my horse back in Skyrim,” she nodded. “He was a gift.”

“From whom?” Solas pressed, curious why Aycria was suddenly not as forth coming with her answers to their questions.

“Well, I suppose it couldn’t hurt answering truthfully,” Aycria shrugged. “He was a gift from the Deadric Prince Sithis, gifted to the leader of the Dark Brotherhood. Although Astrid, the leader gifted him to me.”

“The Dark Brotherhood does not sound like a nice organisation,” Cassandra said, her tone slightly put off. Aycria bit her lip and looked upwards towards the sky. She wasn’t normally concerned by peoples reaction when they found out she was the leader of the Dark Brotherhood but for some reason she cared about what Cassandra thought. Though Cassandra was friends with Leliana so maybe it would be okay.

“Well, I suppose to some people it is and others it isn’t,” Aycria agreed. “It’s an assassination group. People pray to the Night Mother, the wife of Sithis, with the Black Sacrament and the Night Mother communicates with the Listener to inform us of the contract.”

“Black Sacrament?” Solas asked. Aycria sighed and tugged gently on a strand of her hair that fell over her shoulder.

“Um…” Aycria knew that no-one would be understanding of the Black Sacrament and she tried to find away to explain it without explaining it fully. Soals would want to know in detail, as he seemed to want to know everything about Skyrim, especially anything that revolved around magicka, not that Aycria was able to fully explain how the Black Sacrament actually worked. It was just something that was.

“Why did you call your horse psycho?” Varric interrupted coming to stand beside Aycria, winking at her.

“He would go after the bears and the sabre cats and trolls,” She explained shaking her head. “And the giants, and the hagravens and the dragons. That damn horse dragged me into numerous fights with the wildlife of Skyrim. And also bandits and the like.”

“What are hagravens?” Cassandra asked. Aycria shifted her focus to the Seeker, her eyes alight.

“Actually, I believe it is my turn to ask a question, and you haven’t had a chance to explain just what Lady Seeker means,” she grinned wagging her finger at Cassandra.

“I was apart of the Seekers of Truth, a secret police organisation for the Chantry,” Cassandra explained without hesitation, sending a small smile. “The order was sanctioned directly by the Divine.”

“What do they police?” Aycria asked. “From my understanding the Templars police the mages, the guards in the cities attempt to police those. Do they police the Chantry?”

Cassandra hesitated with her answer this time. Biting her lip and looking away from the open face of a woman who was slowly becoming a very good friend of hers. She saw what happened when Cullen said he had been a Templar, she didn’t want Aycria to start looking at her the same the way but she knew she owed it to Aycria to be truthful just as she had been regarding the assassin group Aycria had been a part of. Cassandra had notice the worried look on her face before she answered.

“They were to act as a check for the Templars, to root out corruption, and ensure the Templars are performing their duties, and not failing,” Cassandra finally responded. Varric scoffed and shook his head.

“A fine job they have done,” he said looking around them at the burned and destroyed houses and farm land.

“The Seekers didn’t see anything wrong with what was happening in Kirkwall?” Aycria asked, Varric had explained as best he could what had started the mages rebelling and the Templars to split from the Chantry. “They saw no reason to investigate why the Knight Commander there was turning so many mages into tranquil?”

“I cannot speak for why they chose not the look further,” Cassandra said. “I was no longer directly involved. I was the Right Hand of the Divine. The Seekers had done an investigation but had not found any corruption, or need to intervene. Perhaps if they had looked harder…I do not know.”

Varric stared at Cassandra in disbelief, for once it appeared the storyteller was rendered silent, at a complete lose for words. He moved away from the group needing to be alone while he considered that information. No-one in Kirkwall was aware that the Seekers had investigated Knight Commander Meredith or that they had found nothing wrong with what she had been doing. He couldn’t help but think if they had then the events that took Hawke and Anders from Kirkwall never would have happened.

Aycria looked from Varric to Cassandra her head titled to the left. Varric’s reaction was odd and she knew there had to be something more to it to cause him to pull away from the group. He didn’t wonder far from them but Aycria made sure to keep an eye on him and her senses trained on the land around them just in case. However, she didn’t press for details nor did she further question Cassandra regarding the matter. Cassandra seemed ashamed of what had occurred and the lack of competency in the Seekers order. Aycria knew that the Order had most likely allowed such things to go unchecked in the past when Cassandra had been apart of the Order but she also knew that Cassandra did not view mages the same way as Templars. She didn’t think they should go unchecked but they didn’t deserve to be treated like prisoners and turned into Tranquil the minute the Templars believe they are too emotional or even too powerful.

“Cassandra,” Aycria said. She didn’t really know what to say but when Cassandra looked back at her Aycria smiled softly at her, she wanted Cassandra to know that Aycria didn’t see her any differently. Cassandra looked away but Aycria could see a smile starting to form on her face.

“The crossroads are just ahead Mother Giselle should be here somewhere,” Cassandra said. Aycria stopped walking eyes narrowed.

“What is it?” Solas asked coming to a stop beside her. Aycria ignored him closing her eyes and focusing on her hearing. She sniffed the air lightly, the tang of blood was subtle but fresh. Her ears picked up screams and the sound of blades ringing against one another.

“We have to hurry,” Aycria said her eyes snapping open, a cold glint in them. “There’s fighting.”

Aycria lunged forward racing towards the sounds. Cassandra didn’t even hesitate she raced after her drawing blade and shield in one smooth motion. Solas and Varric followed suit after a seconds hesitation. They struggled to catch up to Aycria and saw her entered into a battle with Templars, aiding Inquisition Forces and local soldiers. Aycria drew Dragon’s Bane from her shoulder and blocked the sword of a Templar that was looking to impale the soldier that had fallen to the ground. She forced the sword up and away, the Templar had to step backwards to regain their balance but Aycria didn’t give them a moment to recover. She ducked under their guard and shoved her blade through his chest. The armour on his chest not enough to hold up against the enchanted blade.

“Who?” the soldier tried to ask but Aycria was already moving on. She slashed and ducked at the Templars, taking them out one by one.

Solas was throwing out magic at the Templar archers keeping them occupied and their focus away from the two mele fighters on the field. Varric fired at the enemy arches that Solas had stunned with his magic. The two worked methodically on them, their team work and coordination a spectacular sight considering they had only fought beside each other a few times. Cassandra was taking the Templars on the other side of the field, assisting the soldiers there. Aycria paused for half a moment to watch the Seeker handle the Templars with ease, her strength and skill was to be admired. Aycria grinned turning her focus back onto the Templars who just seemed to keep coming. These ones armed with body length shields, one of them blocked her blade and forced her back. She shook her arm out and her grin turned deadly. She took two steps forward, raising her leg and kicking it into the shield of the one who pushed her back, she used nearly all of her strength. The Templar fell backwards, his arm that had taken the full force of the kick broken, his scream ripped through the sounds of battle. His fellow Templars stopped and looked at him before turning to face Aycria once more. They were more careful in how they approached her, they came at her as one attempting to encircle her.

Solas threw his hand out a wall of fire cutting off half the circle before they could encircle her. Aycria looked over briefly at him to nod her thanks before focusing on the Templars on her side of the fire. Cassandra was advancing on the others and Aycria knew that woman could handle them easily enough. Aycria decided she wanted to see how they dealt with her magicka. She sheathed her blade and called forth her magicka, summoning small clouds in her hands, flashes of lightning appeared within them as they grew covering her entire hands. The Templars backed up quickly, one seemed to throw their hand out of her, Aycria wasn’t sure what they were attempting and she didn’t give them a chance to finish whatever they were doing. She flung her hands out, the clouds staying with her and strikes of lightning leaping from them and arching towards the Templars. The lightning hit them straight on, and went right through them opening holes in their chest killing them instantly. Aycria lowered her hands the clouds vanishing, her lips formed into a pout as she looked at the Templars. Sithis that was boring, she was rather hoping the fuckers would at least be able to defend more against her magicka, especially in its weaken state. What she had failed to notice was the odd pull that had happened just before she had released her magicka. She still wasn’t use to the smaller amount of magicka and hadn’t felt more of her magicka vanish with that attack then should have.

“Is everyone alright?” Cassandra asked the wall of fire had died down allowing those on the other side to join their comrades.

“Yes, Seeker we’re alright now thanks to you and the Herald,” an Inquisition soldier responded. Aycria bit her lip wanting to scoff at the title of Herald but she had promised that she would allow the soldiers to continue using it if it meant they could garner more support and it gave the soldiers strength and courage to continue fighting an invisible enemy with something that no-one seems to fully understand.

“Excellent, we should get-”

“More enemies are coming,” Aycria interrupted her ears picking up movement and her nose picking up that scent that surrounds the mages here. “Prepare yourselves, those who are injured should get back behind Varric and Solas. You two form a defensive line back where you were before, Cassandra you take the reminding soldiers prepare for an attach to our left I’ll handle the right.”

“Are you sure?” one of the local soldiers asked. “I don’t see anything.”

“Oh she is sure, Snowy’s senses are not of this world,” Varric answered preparing his Crossbow, he sent a wink towards Cassandra and Aycria causing the two women to grin.

“Right, you heard the Herald prepare yourselves!”

The group of soldiers moved into position, waiting for the mages to arrive. The injured soldiers moved behind Solas, there were five in total, Aycria shot a glance at them and without thinking created a barrier around them just in case. It caused the soldiers to stare in fear for a few moments before one of them reached out to touch it and felt a warmth coming from it but no harm came to them. Four soldiers moved to the left, they stood in a jaggered line with their swords and shields at the ready. They held them in a manner that was similar to the Templars, it was effective against magic attacks as it assured the weaker spells would bounce off of the shield and go down rather then bouncing upwards.

“How long can you maintain it?” Cassandra asked quietly.

“Hm, normally I would say for a very long time but now I am unsure,” Aycria answered. “I haven’t had time to experiment with my new magicka levels but it should last for this small skirmish.” Cassandra nodded and moved back to the other just in time for the mages to come across them. There were four on her side and six on the other. Aycria blinked in confusion as she felt a lower amount of magicka then what she thought should be there.

‘Maybe that Templar did do something…Sithis I should have asked what Templars can do against mages here, that was fucking stupid,’ she thought.

“Death to the Templars!” the mages called out moments before the mages started their attack. Aycria thought it might be best if she got rid of most of them in a quick fashion, it wouldn’t be good to draw this fight out.

“We aren’t Templars you dumb motherfuckers!” she called but they still started to attacked. “Fine.”

Being careful to keep a feel for what was left of her magicka she released spikes of ice followed by fire and lightning in quick succession. Two of them were taken down but the other two managed to block her attacks sending ones right back. She dodged them summoning one of her daggers and throwing it towards the one on the right that had been distracted by Solas throwing a fist of earth at them. Aycria’s dagger hit the mage dead in the chest.

“You bitch!” the reminding mage screamed. Aycria sensed a massive build up in their magicka.

“Well, shit that can’t be good,” Aycria muttered.

She reached for some magicka to create a barrier but she felt the one around the injured soldiers wavier, she glanced back to notice one of the mages had started attacking it, Solas and Varric turned their attention to him. She forced more magicka into that, instead of creating a barrier for herself as another one of the mages started focusing on the barrier as well. She looked back around only to see a massive ball of fire coming directly for her. Aycria felt her body seize up, she tried to move but found that she was froze.

“Herald!” Aycria felt a hand wrap around her upper arm pulling her out of the way, she hit the ground hard and felt the heat of the fireball pass her by.

A blood curdling scream filled with pain ripped through the air. Aycria looked up from the ground and saw the soldier she had saved earlier on fire. She stared in horror, unable to comprehend what happened, her body has never frozen not even when she fought dragons for the first time. The soldier fell to the ground and started to roll around on the ground. His screams started to get quieter.

“Look at him burn,” the mage laughed.

Aycria turned slowly to look at the mage. Her golden eyes burned with rage at the joy on the mages face, the dragon like pupil became even more obvious. Solas had raced forward, ice and frost covering his hands as he put the fire out. He called forth some healing magicka and started trying to heal the damage from the fire. Aycria didn’t even care if she used all the magicka she had available she threw as much as she good at the soldier, adding her healing. ‘If I ever get back to Skyrim I need to remember to thank the Priestess of Kynareth for being so patient with my training in healing.’

“You are going to regret laughing you dumb cunt!” Aycria growled, her voice almost animal like and rippled with an echo of something old and powerful.

She slowly stood up wishing to Oblivion that she had her Voice so she could rip this fucker to pieces. She could feel her magicka hitting the bottom of the well, she hit it quickly from maintaining the barrier and continuing to heal the soldier. She forced herself to push past the bottom ignoring the warning signs of her body suddenly going cold and her vision going white on the edges. The mage had turned his attention to her and grinned, starting to gather the same amount of magicka that he had before. He had yet to realise that his fire was no longer burning.

“Don’t worry little knife eared bitch, you will join him,” the mage cooed before his face whitened in horror when he turned to look back at the soldier he had attempted to burn alive. “How?”

“Simple,” Aycria smirked holding her hands up beside her, the same clouds from before encased them but instead of just lightning flashing in them fire and ice crackled around the edges. “You. Pissed. Me. Off.”

Aycria sent one cloud directly at the mage in-front of her and the other at the reminding mages on the other side. The mages screams filled the silence, their barriers no match for the rage filled spells of Aycria. The screaming was abruptly cut off by bolts from Varric’s crossbow hitting them in the chest. Aycria’s breath was coming out in harsh gasps as violent shivers racked through her body, the white on the edge of her vision getting stronger. The barrier around the injured soldiers didn’t just disappear it cracked and shattered, the burnt soldier was mostly healed when her magicka left him. Everyone left standing on the field was staring at Aycria, eyes wide with fear and wonder. Not many of them had seen spells like that before.

“That was certainly something,” Solas murmured, he looked at Varric and Cassandra. The three of them were unsure how to approach the half Nord. They had yet to see her with such rage. Eventually Varric walked towards her, his crossbow slung back across his back and both hands hang loosely to the side.

“Snowy,” Varric cautiously said, edging around her to the front. “Shit.” He raced forward and managed to catch her before she face planted on the ground. “Seeker, a little help.” Although Aycria wasn’t tall her dead weight still forced Varric to his knees as he struggled to manoeuvre her.

Cassandra moved quickly coming beside the two in seconds and eased Aycria off of Varric. She gasped when she saw the blood trickling out of Aycria’s nose and her body racked with shivers. Cassandra tore off one of her gloves with her teeth and felt Aycria’s skin.

“She is freezing!” Cassandra gasped.

“She must have used too much of her magic,” Solas said.

The soldier in charge of those on the field quickly tore of his cloak and rushed forward. He placed it over the prone body of the Herald. He was suddenly hit with how young she looked, and he grew worried at the pale complexion on her face. The blood from her nose didn’t seem to be stopping any time soon. He looked back at the other soldiers who were starting to the help the injured to sit.

“We need to start of fire for the Herald!” he commanded. “Those of you who can walk go and collect firewood.”

The others hesitated looking worriedly at the strange mage who was being held by Seeker Pentaghast. They knew she was the Herald but she was also a mage, a dangerous mage. Her magic made them unsure. The one who had been burnt stood up on shaking legs, his eyes looked over his fellow soldiers, taking in the fear and on some even disgust, the looks made him scoff. He hadn’t been sure about mages, and he still wasn’t, however, this particular mage had ran into battle to aide them with no hesitation and protected his injured comrades. It was one of the reasons he ran without thought to get her out of the way of the fireball when he saw she was still.

“That young woman protected us and healed me,” he said. “I should be dead but because she risked her own live I am alive, we are all alive. If you can’t put aside your prejudice to help the Herald of Andraste, you are no brothers and sisters of mine.”

He limped towards the woods looking for branches that could be used to start a fire. He heard some of the other soldiers getting up and making their way after him. He smiled softly, glad to know that not all of his comrades would allow their distrust of mages to prevent them from aiding. In a small amount of time they had enough wood to start a small fire. Solas sent a small spark of fire at the wood and Cassandra carried Aycria over to it. The soldiers had gathered their cloaks and some blankets they had found to create a soft spot for her to lay on, and then they placed the rest over her.

“Why is she so cold?” one of the soldiers asked.

“Aycria used too much of her magic,” Solas explained. “Even with drawing from the fade a mage can over do it, though I have never seen such an extreme result. It is rather concerning.”

“What about Lyrium potions?” the leader asked.

“We’ll have to wait for her to wake up, allow her body to recover a little on its own first,” Solas shook his head. “I would suggest that you soldiers get to the Crossroads and get your injured seen too.”

“Yes, and please tell Mother Giselle that the Herald is on her way,” Cassandra added. The soldiers looked at each other before nodding.

“We will send a horse and cart back to help carry the Herald if she has not yet awoken,” the leader saluted.

“Are we sure lyirum potions would even work?” Varric asked when the soldiers were out of sight. They couldn’t risk anyone overhearing.

“She can smell lyrium, not just from potions but from mages as well, she said it smelt sour, which is not how any mage here describes the smell of lyrium,” Solas responded. “It is unlikely to do any real damage to her if we give her one, perhaps it will provide a small amount of energy for her.”

“And what if you’re wrong?” Cassandra argued. “We don’t know enough about her to know for sure how the lyrium will affect her body and I am not willing to risk it.”

“The Seeker is right,” Varric said. “Aycria told me that her magic can return if she stops using it and rests, just as a soldiers stamina can return. Maybe that’s why she fainted, it was her body getting her to rest.”

“Let us just try and keep her warm,” Cassandra added. “Let her wake up on her own.”

“Let us hope no more Templars or mages attack us,” Solas said. “I will keep watch and set some runes along the edge of our camp.”

“I’ll find some more wood,” Varric muttered after Solas had left to walk around the edge of camp checking to ensure no enemies were hiding.

“Varric,” Cassandra said turning around. “Be careful.”

Varric nodded a small smile on his face. Cassandra looked back at Aycria her eyebrows knitted in concern at the shallow breaths the half elf was taking. She had a little more colour in her cheeks but nowhere near enough for Cassandra to stop worrying for the younger woman.

“Please Aycria wake up.”

#Skyrim #Elder Scrolls #Dragon Age #Dragon Age Inquisition #Dragonborn #Dovahkiin #dovahkiin inquisitor #Casandra #Solas #Varric #Templars #Elder Scrolls Skyrim #writing #Dragon Age/Skryim

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katsubiatch · 3 years ago

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Distant Shores-1

Summary: The heathens came to raid every year, stealing treasures and killing along the way. Your father was the King of Wessex and wanted to strike a deal with the heathens. The heathens and their ruthless numbers in exchange for some lands to farm, riches... and you. You are the Christian princess that is now to marry the Heathen King, a man that you're sure would rather kill you than marry you. This is going to be a miserable marriage.

A Viking!BakugouxReader fic.

Warnings: Arrange Marriage, general viking things, abusive father

They came every year, rowing to shore in their long boats with the intricately decorated dragon or serpent heads, shields of all colors decorating the sides. They would set up camp near the edges of the water, far enough to stay dry but not so far that they couldn't leave in a haste if need be. Violent in their tendencies and lacking the most simple of manners. Vulgar in their speech but carefree and happy. Men and women fighting side by side. They were tall, muscular, built like the gods they worshiped. Some with long hair that was braided back from their face, others with the sides shorn short and what was left was braided. Almost all had some sort of facial hair, minus the young ones desperately trying to grow it in, and if that was long enough it would be braided as well. Their clothing was not all together different from what you were used to. Perhaps not as ostentatious or gaudy as a he clothing around court. It was practical and useful, rather than just for show. Your father, the King of Wessex, was intrigued by these heathens as he called them. They had came ashore last year, destroying a few temples and killing all the holy men and women inside of them while stealing all the treasure inside, before taking their leave back to their homelands. It was interesting to say the least, though they had heard of these northmen before this was only the second time they had made camp on their shores. So In an effort of good faith your father decided to invite them to the castle, to talk he said. He wanted to strike a deal with them. He was going to offer a few things he thought they could not refuse. So he sent out a messenger to bring back their leaders for a feast. They spoke in a different tongue, looking at the women of court with lustful eyes as they ate. One man, who seemed to be their leader spoke up as he looked at the King. "What is it you have to offer me?" He spoke your language but it was choppy with the words out of place. You were surprised to find he knew the words at all. His hair was short on the sides, the rest braided back until it ended in a short pony tail. He had red eyes that you felt could pierce through anything or anyone. Scars littered his arms and bare chest, an axe and a sword at his hips. "Well, I am willing to offer some lands for you to do as you wish. Farm, build settlements. They are yours to do as you wish. I am also willing to offer you something more." The man said, grinning at the Viking earl. "I am offering my pure daughter, Y/N, to you." You. You were an offering. You always knew that your marriage would be arranged but you didn't think like this. To someone who had different customs, a different language, a different land someone who was different in almost every way possible. You wanted to throw up

The last thing that you thought your father was going to offer up was you. After all you were his only daughter and you figured that you would be married off to someone, a prince or lord in order for you father to gain some lands or troops for wars. Though you supposed this was kind of the same thing. The last thing that you expected was to be offered up to the Heathen King. You could feel his gaze on you, calculating red eyes watching your every move. You kept your eyes downcast, a habit from living in the castle for so long. You tried your hardest to hide the look of shock on your face, train it into a neutral expression.

"Well aren't you lucky, you get the Christian princess." One of the men next to the Heathen king spoke to him, in their language. One that you didn't understand.

"I have no need for a wife... but I could make it work. His proposition is interesting. I feel like he is going to double cross us."

The viking seemed to contemplate for a minute, hand rubbing over his chin as he looked you up and down before looking back at his men. "I will accept your offer, but I am surprised you would give up your virgin daughter to such a... heathen like myself." You could feel your face heat up at that, like they were talking about you without you even being there, despite the fact that you could feel the Vikings eyes on you the entire time.

"Well you are the man I need to make an alliance with right now." Your father stated, leaning back in his chair. "She will make a fine wife, I'm sure she can adjust to your ways." It became quite obvious to Bakugou that the king did not care about his daughter and what happened to her. He knew of the rumors that were spread about them. How they raped women and killed them when they no longer 'served their purpose.' He could tell you were scared but it seemed as though your father did not care.

"Then she will leave with us in the morning, we will be married under our Gods." Bakugou grunted, taking a long drink out of his cup, eyes never leaving your shaking frame. There was not much more that you could take, you didn't want to marry yet let alone a barbarian that you didn't even know. Someone who hardly spoke your language, who had different customs and Gods than you.

You excused yourself and made your way out of the hall, running as soon as you were out of sight. You couldn't slow your breaths, they were coming much too fast. You felt as though you were hyperventilating and needed to calm down. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, maybe it would be okay. Once you made it to your room you had calmed down just a bit. You still did not want to marry this man. He looked cruel and would surely just have his way with you.

You sighed as you sat at your vanity, taking out the clips and pins that held your hair up in its complicated look. You supposed now you'd have to have it in the braids you saw on all the Viking women. You moved it back away from your face when you heard a knock on the door that caused your heart to race. You knew it was your father, sent to give you instructions that you didn't want to follow.

"Well, you embarrassed me out there. Running away like that, it's almost like you don't want to marry that brute." Your father hadn't waited for an answer to come in. "You have to make him happy, the last thing I want is them storming our shores because you're too stupid to please this man."

"Father I don't want to marry him. I do not know him and... and what if he kills me? You could marry me off to a prince from a neighboring land and they could offer your army to help if the viki,.." you started to say before you were struck against the cheek. The king of Wessex didn't like being told what to do, especially not by a woman.

"You will listen to what I have to say child, you will do as you are told, no questions. You will marry that brute and you will like it. Keep him pleased bed remind him of our treaty or I can send someone to remind you of your place." Your father threatened, pointing a finger in your face while you held your cheek and tears sprang out of your eyes. You had thought perhaps he had some shred of love left for you, however he just saw you as a bargaining chip.

That night you did not sleep well, tossing and turning. Dreaming about a pair of bright red eyes.

The next morning your maids had dressed your for the last time, putting you in a simple dress and cloak that wasn't too showy but was still made of fine fabrics that showed your status. A bruise had formed on your cheek from your fathers ring but that was something he didn't try to hide anymore. His daughter had a wild tongue according to him, and he needed to correct it. This wasn't the first time that he had struck you, but you were hopeful it would be the last. Unless of course your new husband was the same.

You were told you didn't need to pack anything, your husband to be would provide everything that you'd need. Least that is what they told your father. So down you went to where they were waiting, restless horses under even more restless men. They'd been giving plenty of gold and treasures to get them through the winter so they were eager to get back home. "Here she is, your future wife." The King said, presenting you to the Viking leader. You dared to look up at him, seeing the same eyes that had plagued your dreams. You watched his eyes flick around your face, lingering on your cheek before landing on your eyes. You soon looked away, not wanting to cause any new problems. It was the way you were raised, never look a man too long in the eyes. It was disrespectful. "She has some problems obeying but I am sure you can get her in line." The king winked befor pushing your towards the horse that Bakugou was on. He looked down at you before hoisting you on top of the beast to sit in front of him. Your face turned a bright pink, you'd never been this close to a man before, and his bare chest was burning into your back. You supposed that you'd have to get used to this if you were to be married soon.

Your father and future husband shared a few words with each other that you didn't pay attention to before you were off. The entire ride the few Vikings that had come along we're all talking in their own language, nothing that you understood but they seemed to be in good spirits, laughing and joking. You were lost in your own world, gently running your fingers over the horses mane before you heard the man behind you speak up. "What happened to your face?"

You weren't expecting it after how quiet he'd been for the entire ride so you jumped at the sudden noise behind you. You chewed on your cheek, deciding on an answer before landing on, "My father was correcting me. That is all." You weren't sure of the correct answer but that apparently wasn't it as you heard a grunt behind you and a small growl.

Before long you made it back to the Viking camp, which was mostly torn down at this point, bustling with activity. The boats were being packed, tents torn down and supplies being put up. You were in awe at how fast they worked, and were intrigued with the people and what they were doing. It was almost like a culture shock, you were used to the castle and this was something different. The man that was to be your husband helped you off your horse and gave you a warning to stay close. In the matter of an hour everything was packed up, you staying close to the man was he went around inspecting work and checking things before he lifted you onto a boat and climbed on himself.

The boat itself was amazing, all the little attentions to detail was beautiful, your fingers traced over the edge and the little designs there. You were again in awe, you could deal with this. If you could see little things of beauty like this then you could take it. Once set off to the sea your eyes were wide with wonder. You hadn't ever been this far before, you hadn't even been out on the water and it was breath taking. You couldn't get enough. That is... until you were sprayed in the face with the water. You coughed and shook your head, as the men on the boat laughed. You didn't complain however, you were still just in awe of the sights. What you didn't notice was a curious pair of eyes watching you from the other end of the boat, never leaving you as he watched you drink in everything. He was curious about you, that was for sure.

After getting hit with the ocean water you learned your lesson about staying too close to the edge. However as night time drew closer and the sun went below the horizon it was freezing and your cloak wasn't cutting it. However you didn't complain, instead just hugged it closer to yourself.

"It looks like your princess is going to freeze to death." One of the rowing men commented, looking over to Bakugou. "Might want to warm her up."

Bakugou heard this and in turn stood up with a grunt before walking over to you and unceremoniously dropped on of his furs onto your shoulders. You looked curiously up at him, but melted into the warmth it gave. "Thank you." You chattered out, cuddling close to the furs.

"Can't let you freeze, princess." Bakugou murmured as shuffled back over to where he came from. You watched him go and smiled softly, perhaps he wasn't so bad after all.

#Viking Bakugou #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #katuski x reader #katsuki x y/n #Bakugou x reader #Distant Shores

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a-shakespearean-in-paris · 4 years ago

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Why Cullen?

Today I bring you a post I’ve been in the process of mentally drafting for a while, a post that essentially analyzes the age old question in the Dragon Age fandom: Why is there always something with Cullen?

To do this, I am going to go through different “phases” of Cullen discourse. My thesis and answering the titular question: It’s complicated, and I don’t think I can answer “Why Cullen,” but “there’s sometimes recycled discourses made about his character through the years, maybe there’s a pattern.” When it comes to Cullen’s detractors, I understand the fact that it might be frustrating to see much content for someone so “boring” when there’s more “interesting” and “well done” characters (though interest is of course relevant) so it leads to a lot of vitriol from both new and old fans who think the man had too much screen time already. Furthermore, he is highly complicated man dressed as a Disney prince, and the “Disney-esque” feel of his romance creates a dissonance between coming to terms with his problematic past and reveling in the romanticism. We can have a happy medium everyone, but because of what I can only describe as “tik tok thought” it’s become looked down upon to have problematic favorites, which leads to guilt in liking something problematic, or outright revisionism.

But liking things with problematic elements doesn’t make you a bad person.

Alright, let’s begin:

The first phase truly began of course with DAO with Cullen’s crush on the female Circle Mage Warden. Some were endeared, others not so much. I cannot speak to this phase too much as I was around 15-16 and pretty preoccupied with my high school drama instead of fandom, though I played both DAO and DA2 upon it’s release and followed updates for DA2 before it came out. Despite not being an active fandom member I was what they would call, a lurker. I knew some people liked Cullen and thought he was cute, wishing for more screen time after the game and hoping he’d be in DAI through IMDB message boards (remember those?) and YoutTube comments. When news broke he’d be an advisor in DAI and a romance option, I remember seeing a lot of people in those same spaces rejoice. I’m sure there were also people who weren’t so pleased, but from what I saw, people were happy. When Inquisition did release, I actually did quite a bit more lurking on tumblr despite the fact I didn’t have a blog, because I played the romance route, really gravitated toward it, and wanted to see fanart and such. People liked the romance, liked his arc and how Bioware handled his struggles with lyrium; and found it realistic. Even in my lurking days I did see some blowback on Cullen from detractors, those who didn’t think he should have been the military advisor (which canonically it makes total sense to me why he’s where he’s at, but I won’t get into it here however.) But likely because I wasn’t fully “in fandom,” my surface level understanding of how tumblr felt about Cullen was relatively positive and there was only standard fare discourse.

Phase 2: I can speak about this phase better because I established this blog in 2017. Two years after DAI was released, you still had a lot of fans who loved his romance and character, but you also saw a lot of those fans really dive into his flaws, insisting even that just focusing on the Disney Prince aspects of him reduced his character. There were also more internal debates. Would realistically Cullen be a good father was one. One thing however was for sure, there was a strange them and us line between detractors and fans, and to many fans, myself included, oftentimes the Cullen blowback would extend beyond the valid, “hey I don’t think his characterization was handled well” or “his redemption arc isn’t that great” to outright vitriolic hate that blatantly ignored his PTSD and lyrium addiction, and even sometimes “you just like Cullen because he’s white.” As a POC fan it was a fantastic thing to be accused of. I used to be more involved with discord during this period and I remember a few discussions about this as well. Even those indifferent to Cullen didn’t get it.

Overall, I have to say the air was one where people in Cullen fandom enjoyed all aspects of him, from delving into this troubled past to indulging in the Disney prince aspects of him. It was a happy medium I think, even if occasionally I would see a Cullen fan feel bad for liking him, and feel like they needed to justify it. Heck I even did and still do feel that way sometimes, like I need to justify what I like. But we all come into fandom for different reasons. I come into fandom some days for different things. Sometimes I want smut with my favorite character, other times I want more intense thought pieces and challenging fics. Great thing about fandom is that it’s a bakery that has cherry tarts, cinnamon rolls, or all kinds of pie depending on your mood. Craving a different sweet treat, you can make your own. Or you can commission an artist or writer for something you fancy.

*(sexual assault mentions here late in the paragraph****)And now I’ve been warped back into Cullen/DA fandom through what I am calling phase three, where the general air on Cullen reads as….very different. After having one foot outside DA fandom for a while coming back and reading the air has been different. There was the bizarre nuggetgate and other things with Cullen. Now, instead of accepting his flaws and exploring him there seems to be a lot of revisionism going on, as if his past never happened or we’re supposed to ignore he was a templar. A sexually active Cullen is looked down upon but in a different way from before. Instead of smut works with him “reducing his complicated character.” it’s distasteful to write smut with him where he’s sexually dominant or even just a lot of smut because he was sexually assaulted. (***Now, it is implied that he was, if you are a female Circle mage in DAO, with “sifting through my thoughts, tempting me with the one thing I always wanted but could never have” but this is an implication. I will be honest, it is what I have implied. However, it’s not there if you’re not a female Mage. He was however canonically sexually harassed in the Winter Palace, something I will always argue, even if canon treats it like a joke, even if Leliana tells him to “just look pretty.” Just because he is a man doesn’t make it funny that someone grabbed his bottom, and if you take Cole he flat out says “Cullen is afraid.”***)

So here I am, wondering what changed and what’s going on. Here’s what I believe: Cullen is a complicated character and his flaws and his past make him interesting to me, and they are interesting to explore. However there is nothing wrong with wanting to just explore a romantic, sexual Cullen. He’s a character with many facets. He’s romantic, determined, nostalgic, stubborn, unrelenting, loyal, driven, all things that made him seem so real. Here we get to my theory: in today’s media “criticisms” I see people—particularly younger people—beat themselves up for liking something problematic. It’s like every time you engage with media that’s potentially problematic you have to write essays to yourself why it is so and hold yourself accountable. I see this on tik-tok a lot and why I refer to it as “tik tok thought.” Look at the way some young Hamilton fans talk about the musical, or heck even here, and you may see what I mean. It’s like if you don’t acknowledge the problematic aspects of the historical figures behind their fictional portrayals in the show you’re a bad person. Same thing with nostalgic Disney fans my age in younger, if you don’t clown on Ariel for “choosing a man over anything” (SHE LIKED THE SURFACE WORLD BEFORE SHE MET ERIC) you don’t get your brownie points.

I want to make it clear: being critical of media is good. I am glad I see young people and people my age think about the messages we are given in media, but somehow this is turned into ANALYZE EVERYTHING ALL THE TIME. Ya’ll I’m a grad student. I’m critical most of the time, when I come to my tumblr blog’s lawn I’m here mostly to have some fun, and hey sometimes my fun is being critical. But sometimes it isn’t. You do not have to always be critical. You do not have to beat yourself up for liking something that’s problematic or write an essay about why it is as if that’s your due diligence in stanning a fictional character. I’m going to be honest I used to kind of think I had to justify my likes once, especially because of the Cullen vitriol on tumblr. I worked overtime in my early fanfic efforts to try to prove to the world I knew Cullen was problematic for fear I’d be perceived as just an idiot horny fangirl. Well, let me tell you: I largely don’t think that way anymore. If I want to just enjoy writing some smut or reading some smut with him, I am. But I think there is a second part of this in Cullen fandom currently, a revisionism of his problematic elements. Now, if you have to do mental gymnastics with a character in an effort to ignore problematic elements, perhaps you don’t like the character that much. That’s totally okay. DA has many awesome characters to write about and stan.

So, why Cullen? For so many reasons a bit of a shit show has always followed this character. There’s a divide between fans and his detractors and sometimes there’s a divide within the Cullen fandom. What I can extrapolate for now is the need to keep him squeaky clean and safe and away from anything “problematic” because his of past, his templar roots, or the fact that he’s white when there are POC characters with less content. It reads as a guilt associated with liking him. But please, do not be guilty. He’s not real. Templars aren’t real, mages aren’t real, Cullen isn’t real. Here’s my advice, something I learned while in my directing class in college. What my teacher always said was direct what turns you on, direct a story that gets you thinking, gets you excited. What gets you thinking and excited in a fictional world may be tons of conflict and dramatics, or it may be peace and love. Sometimes it can be both or more. Don’t shame others for coming to a bakery and wanting blueberry when you want cherry, and the baker has both, especially if the baker labels each pie, especially if the recipe for the pie has some salt in it and people like the salt. We can have it all and enjoy it all. What we want in our fiction doesn’t always align with something we may want real life. Lots of people write Modern girl in Thedas stories. Ya’ll if that actually happened to one of us it would probably suck. I’d probably get killed and not even get to meet Cullen and pose around the desk to get things going, so I’d rather it not happen. However, it is fun to read about.

Again, don’t be guilty for liking Cullen, please. But if you have to do a lot of mental gymnastics to like Cullen, maybe you don’t like him at all. To that I say, there are many other amazing characters, or perhaps you could write your own.

#fandom critical #I spent too long on this #deleted a lot #but now it's written and I can move on #Cullen rutherford

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thecagedsong · 3 years ago

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Forgotten Light: Chapter 7: Preparations

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11

Chapter 7: Preparation

Agad came in over breakfast.

“Agad, welcome to my home,” Seth said, taking a long drink of milk. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve, “Have a seat. What have you got on Kendra?”

Agad looked more tired than Seth had ever seen him, and let Seth’s joke go flat. He sat down and the six-armed woman that worked in the kitchen put a plate of oatmeal out for him. “Thank you, Simrin,” Agad said. “I have some news, not much of it good. I was able to track the goblins that stole the barrel, they were hiding in Goblin town.”

“Sounds like a fun place,” Seth said.

“You would probably enjoy it,” Agad said, bowing his head, “Just make sure not to lose your eye, or your tooth. It’s in Nevada, not a proper preserve, no caretaker. But they keep to themselves and have general distractor spells, so everyone leaves it alone. I found Slaggo there.”

“Long trip for a goblin on the run.”

“The Sphinx probably helped him, and a wizard named Vernaz. I thought she was an ally and gave Mendigo’s materials to her to be reconstructed. She was good at laying enchantments, much better than me. Her other talent is teleportation, and could have easily helped Slaggo leave Fablehaven with the barrel. I’m positive the barrel made it to the Sphinx.”

Seth finished his last bite of oatmeal, “Then we’re sure that the Sphinx and Ronodin are working together. That sucks, one of them is bad enough.”

Agad massaged his forehead, “I fear it was a mistake to make the Sphinx an Eternal. It will certainly keep the new demon prison closed from him, but I underestimated how cunning he is, even with his Shadow Charmer powers diminished.”

“What did you do to him?” Seth asked.

Agad shrugged, “Not enough apparently. He can’t hear the undead anymore, but we couldn’t dampen much else without killing him. He can put out fires, undo locks, shadow walk. That’s apparently enough to strike against us.”

“The Sphinx had this huge rant about refusing to be a captive,” Seth said, “We should have paid more attention to it. There was no way he was ever going to live by someone else’s say so. Remember, you gave all of us the call, we’re all to blame.”

“Yes, the long life seemed the greatest weakness to the mortal locks,” Agad replied, “It made sense at the time to have at least one person who would not feel that burden, but you are right. He firmly believed in his own rhetoric, and not acknowledging that was a mistake. Both the Sphinx and Vernaz have slipped away. Vanessa is going to be insufferable, and I am going to deserve every minute.”

Seth gave a joyless laugh, “Plenty of mistakes to go around. If the Sphinx happens to die, will that open the new prison? Asking for a friend.”

“No, the prison will remain closed,” Agad said, finally a little amused, “I do not think you would be able to let him die, and that’s fine. But if he happens to die, there are enough already constructed locks in place that the demons of Zzyzx will remain sealed. If the Sphinx comes under your power, save him because you are good, or do not save him because he has harmed those you love and will continue to do so for his own benefit. Do not worry about Zzyzx.”

“Noted,” Seth said. Agad finished breakfast and Seth led him to the War Room.

“I also examined the barrel here,” Agad explained as they walked, “The other half appears to be deep underwater.”

“Why would they do that?” Seth asked. “Did anyone touch the letter we left?”

“Your letter remains in place. An interesting response, and I see only advantages in it. The letter remains physically here, my only recommendation is to make it waterproof so when they pull the barrel up and remove the letter, it doesn’t get ruined by surrounding water. Which answers your other question. They didn’t destroy the barrel, which means they likely intend to use it again.”

“Can you find it?” Seth hoped. “Even a general location would help narrow down the search.”

Agad was already shaking his head, “It’s too deep, and somewhere protected. I can’t get a read on it aside from the fact that it is deep enough that the pressure would kill a human.”

“Great,” Seth said, running a hand through his hair. They approached the War Room, and Seth sat down with Agad across from him. Grandma and Grandpa were already there, and rushed to greet Agad. They updated him on Tess running around the preserve with the Cloak of innocence. Agad gave them the same information about Kendra.

“Any other leads?” Seth asked when everyone was caught up.

“Not quite,” Agad said, “I was unable to gain contact with the Fairy Queen, so we are waiting to see if her connection to Kendra remains strong. No further leads on Bracken either. The only good news I have is that Warren and Vanessa managed to help the caretaker regain a foothold of the Crescent Lagoon sanctuary.”

“I have Bracken’s horn,” Seth said, blinking. He was glad that his friends had some success, but they were okay, Bracken was not. He pulled it out of his emergency kit, “Kendra gave it to me before she lost her memory, along with the medallion and a bunch of information she was keeping to herself.”

“Bracken did say that he had re-established full connection with his horn,” Agad said, “May I see it?”

Seth nodded and offered it to the wizard. Everyone was silent as Agad’s brow pinched in concentration.

“The connection is weak, it feels as though he is under water. No, underground and under water,” Agad said, snowy eyebrows rising, “I would not have been able to tell had I not recently examined the barrel, but working around the water, earth and darkness, I can sense that he is not currently in pain. He seems…bored. He can’t sense me on this side of the connection. But…I would venture to say, he’s at approximately the same depth as the barrel. Within a couple hundred feet of each other.”

“Good,” Grandma said, “Ronodin is handling everything from a master base. There is a good chance Kendra is near them as well. Can you tell Bracken anything about Kendra being near him?”

Agad concentrated, then shook his head, letting out a shaky breath and lowering the horn. “At most, I might be able to push his subconscious thoughts in a certain direction. But I’m positive thoughts about Kendra already haunt him. His last prison ended with her after all.”

Uggh, of all the times to be a lovesick dummy. “Ronodin wants the horn,” Seth said, “That’s what Kendra told me, and I think he tried to get her to give it to him at the Dragon feast.”

“I shudder to think of why he wants it,” Agad said, then offered it back to Seth. “If he wants it badly enough, he’ll find whoever has it. He will likely be more willing to deal with you, knowing how much you want Kendra back. He will also suspect that you have it if Kendra does not. If he contacts you, use your judgement, rely on your grandparents and allies, contact me, and do not endanger the world.”

Seth took it and nodded, placing it back in his adventure kit, silently thanking Agad for placing the lead back in his hands. He would have thanked him out loud, but didn’t want Agad to rethink the choice.

There was a knock on the door, and Knox opened it, letting Tess fall through. “Seth! Seth! I saw the nice dragon! It was so huge!”

Nice dragon? Oh, she left with Eve and they went to see Dromadus. That’s okay then.

“Tess made it back,” Knox said, following her. Patton Burgess’s stingbulb shut the door behind them.

“We took turns flying the winged mounts and walking along the road, over all a very short trip,” Patton said, taking a seat next to Seth. “We heard about Kendra losing her memory. I’m so sorry.”

Patton offered his arms for a hug, and Seth took it, squeezing tightly.

Patton smiled and patted Seth on the back, returning the hug. “Don’t get too attached, I only have a day left.”

Seth released him, “I know,” Seth said, “But I’m glad you’re here while you are. Kendra was kidnapped by Ronodin and the Sphinx working together, and we’ll take any help you can give.”

“Hey, I deserve a hug too,” Doren protested, and both he and Newel tackled Seth in hug, ruffling his hair, before settling back like nothing had happened.

They went through yet another round of catch-up, as Tess squeezed herself in between Knox and Seth, fairly bouncing while waiting to tell her story.

“Tess, this is serious,” Knox scolded, “Kendra’s in a lot of trouble.”

“I know,” Tess said, holding still, “But the fairies at Fablehaven told me all about Bracken and Kendra. Bracken is like, this super cool fairy prince who likes Kendra and totally saves her all the time. And Kendra has a bunch of wicked cool powers from the Fairy Queen, they’re going to be okay until you and Seth rescue them, if they don’t rescue themselves.”

Not how Seth would describe them, Kendra spent a lot more time saving Bracken than the other way around, far as he knew. He was surprised that the Fablehaven fairies were that nice about Kendra though. He wasn’t the only one.

“The fairies said that?” Grandpa asked.

“Well, they said Bracken pitied her, not that he liked her,” Tess admitted, “but that’s what girls always say when the cool boy likes someone else. And they said that the Fairy Queen gives Kendra powers to do stuff for her, and the Fairy Queen is the most powerful person ever. So everything is going to be okay. Really, we need to worry about us.”

Attention snapped to Tess like a guitar string.

“The Dragons are planning to attack us. Tonight! Dromadus doesn’t know how, but he heard them acting like they already won,” Tess explained. “I was supposed to tell Seth. Oh! And don’t tell anyone who told us about the dragons, that’s a secret.”

“Tess,” Knox said slowly, “That’s the kind of thing you say right away.”

“But it’s rude to interrupt people,” she said, confused.

Seth stood up, and he saw Grandpa raise his eyebrows in surprise. Why was he surprised? This was Seth’s job, after all, for a little while longer anyway.

“Okay Agad, welcome to the next round,” Seth said, “Did you check the magical defenses? How are they holding?”

Agad shared an amused look with Grandpa, who just nodded. “I did. The protections seem more secure than ever, even more than when I was caretaker here.”

“The Dragons are certain of victory, but will be unable to mount a frontal assault,” Grandma mused.

“Is Celebrant being hasty?” Patton asked, “From what I understand, dragons with losing streaks don’t stay king for long.”

“Perhaps Dromadus is toying with us,” Marat offered, “His help is rather unexpected.”

“I don’t think Dromadus would do that,” Seth said, “When Kendra and I met him, he seemed kind of like the Fair Folk. Didn’t want the sanctuary to fall, but not gonna do anything about it. And if he isn’t right, and the dragons don’t attack, there’s nothing to gain. If he lied, we wont trust him in the future.”

Marat tilted his head, acknowledging Seth’s statement.

“Anything is possible,” Agad said, “It could be that Dromadus is working with Celebrant, and they are hoping to find a weakness as we scramble to cover ourselves.”

“We have to treat it like a real threat,” Seth decided. “Whatever we show, it can’t be worse than them coming after us when we are unprepared. Possible weaknesses?”

“We should go over our magical defenses one more time,” Marat suggested, “Review the treaty and see if there is anything we missed. It is possible we have a traitor in our midst that will grant them access.”

Unfortunate, but true. He hoped they had been careful enough, though he hadn’t been around much to make a good guess himself.

“What about the barrel?” Knox asked. “We know where that is now, right? Could that be the weakness?”

Agad frowned, “It feels out of character for Celebrant to brag of a victory achieved by allies on the other side of the barrel, but we should not discount it. It is currently the greatest hole in our defense.”

Something about what Knox said bothered Seth. They know where it is now. They weren’t dealing with the Sphinx, but they kind of were. What had the Sphinx done in the past while they thought they were safe? And what was it about Knox’s statement that bothered him?

There wasn’t the textbook method: create a problem, send a friend to help, friend is a traitor. This was a different tactic. The Sphinx liked to stay one step ahead, control the board from both sides, and make threats to force you into action when you’d really just like to sit on your winning streak. Seth thought about the stories he had shared with Knox. Sometimes he planted a traitor, and sometimes the Sphinx sent invisible assassins after you because he already knew where you were going to be. Sometimes he let demon dragons out of their prisons when you weren’t looking.

“Guys,” Seth said, a sick feeling in his stomach, “Hey,” he stopped Marat and Agad in the middle of their discussion about magical defenses. “Bad thought. Someone was controlling Mendigo way before when the barrel was first stolen, right? Probably Ronodin, since he’s been hanging around the preserve and making deals with the Dragons. We thought the person left with the barrel, but it was in the basement the whole time.”

He waited for someone to deny what he was hinting at.

“Ah,” Grandpa Sorenson said, “I see. Between the time the barrel was lost and found, both sides of the barrel were out of our control, and Mendigo was available on our side to assist a sleeper agent.”

Grandma, Tanu, and Agad all looked like they were about to throw up.

“What are you saying?” Knox asked.

“Seth is suggesting the possibility that someone is already here, but remaining hidden,” Marat clarified, “An insightful observation and deduction.”

“Celebrant could claim credit for successfully distracting us,” Agad admitted, “Not as good as a frontal assault, but enough for him to claim the win. Especially if he can claim the kill. If the enemy is hiding near the Blackwell, it would be nearly impossible to sense them around the aura of the undead.”

“The question is,” Grandma said, “whether the source of the threat is already here, or will it come through the barrel yet. I am loathe to give up our only connection to Kendra.”

“Any way we can make sure we aren’t being listened to, Agad?” Grandpa asked.

“Not that I can create without knowing our spy and what he is using,” Agad said, shaking his head. “We will have to plan even though we may be spied upon.”

“There can’t be a bunch of them,” Seth decided, “I can see through most hiding spells, and I haven’t seen anyone. I can’t get around distractor spells, that was Kendra’s half…” he looked down at Tess, fairy struck, who was sitting still and paying attention like a good girl. Plans were starting to come together “Let’s not talk about everything here. I want everyone to split into groups. Agad, Marat, where’s the best place to examine the magical defenses?”

They shared a look, “The tower where the Roost used to be,” Agad said at last. “The protections still form a small dent there, where a dragon may come closer than other area.”

“Okay, head to Seth Tower, I’ll meet up with you after.” Seth said. It was energizing, being heard and listened to. And to actually be doing something! The brothers nodded.

“Tanu,” Seth said, “I want your potions ready by dinner, whatever happens, you’re going to need to be stocked and ready to go.” Several people caught his emphasis, but didn’t say anything, just like he wanted. Well Tess asked, but Knox shushed her.

“I would appreciate an assistant,” Tanu said.

“I’ll help,” Patton said, standing up, “Unless you have a job for me elsewhere.”

Seth shook his head, “Helping Tanu is perfect.”

He turned to Grandma and Grandpa, “I need you guys to work with the staff. Let them know we’ve been warned of a threat, organize extra lookouts and patrols, organize a watch over the barrel, that kind of stuff. We don’t know what direction the threat coming from, so we cover as many directions as possible.”

Now it was time for Grandma to look amused, and Grandpa to look proud.

“Understood Seth,” she said. “We will retreat to the Winter Study to plan. Henrick will be back soon, and his help will be invaluable with this. We should wait to inform the staff until after he joins us.”

“Great idea, go for it. Er, where’s the Winter Study?” Seth asked, trying to remember from their tour.

“Directly below Kendra’s bedroom,” Agad said. “On the first floor.”

Seth nodded, he’d knock on doors until he found the right one.

Seth turned to his remaining players, “And finally: Doren, Newel, Tess, and Knox. I have a very special job for you. Wait outside the door while I make sure of something with Agad.”

“That’s our cue to leave,” Grandma said, patting a hand on her husband’s leg.

“The abundance of caution while in command suits you,” Grandpa said, standing up. He put his hand on Seth’s shoulder as he passed, “I’m proud of how you’re handling this situation.”

Considering a little over a week ago, he’d gotten a stern lecture about endangering his cousin and the consequences to trying to trick magic, this was quite the change. Grandpa smiled, and walked past him. There was a small lump in his throat. This feeling was why Kendra always did her best to make people proud of her. It was rarely sent his way.

Tanu and Patton also left, then the satyrs and his cousins went just outside the door.

Seth walked close to Agad and lowered his voice, “Tess is Fairy struck, can she see through distractor spells?”

Agad nodded.

Seth smiled and nodded as well. He whispered. “Can you bring the treaty document to the tower?”

Agad shook his head, “It is locked in a box in the Winter Study. The medallion opens the box. I recommend against moving it.”

Seth looked at Marat.

“I agree, with my brother. We have the contents memorized, we should only consult them upon need.”

Seth nodded, then stepped back.

“See you at Seth Tower soon.”

The two of them left, and Seth took a moment to fling himself on the couch and groan. The energy had left when everyone else did. Leading was such hard work! For the millionth time, he wished Kendra had let him turn the key. Sure he’d be kidnapped and being trained into an evil Shadow Charmer right now, but Kendra was so much smarter than him, she would have figured out about the intruder way before.

Probably because she had better judgement than him and didn’t usually trust terrible people right off the bat. And like she said, people usually had enough confidence in her to just trust her with important stuff.

The door creaked open, “Uh, Seth, did you have a job for us?” Newel asked.

Seth got up and went to the door. Remembering from his first day, he used the medallion to unlock a desk drawer in the corner, and pulled out a key ring, slipping it into his adventure pouch.

“Yeah, follow me, I don’t know how much of the keep Tess and Knox got to see,” Seth said, “And it’s a good time to get an updated map of it, in case we come under siege. It’s possible the Dragons are just going to stare us down until we run out of food. Any of you got any talent at drawing maps?”

There was a pause as Seth led on.

“I’ve dealt with a fair amount of treasure maps in my day,” Doren admitted, “And I’m not a shabby hand with a pen. I can draw.”

“Awesome,” Seth said, “Start with the storerooms in the basement storerooms, where the barrel was before, then the dungeons, then the ground floor. If you can get through those floors by lunch, that’d be great, but make sure to do them all. I want you three to go with him, and look for anything that seems suspicious. Look through the dungeons, but if any of you touch the Blackwell, or the chain next to the Blackwell, I’m throwing all of you inside it,” Seth said.

Seth had led them into the library and started pulling out loose sheets of paper, “Doesn’t matter how small. If it seems out of place, make a note of it.”

“Are you sure this is the best use of our time Seth?” Newel asked dubiously.

Seth grinned, “It’s a very good use of your time.”

Seth started writing on various blank papers, while they all watched him. He turned to his younger cousin when he was finished.

“Right. Tess? I want you looking for pictures and weird things on the walls.”

On this sheet of paper, Seth had written:

Every single time you see a person or creature, point at them, say something nice about them, and ask if you can talk to them. Knox will either say that you’re busy, or that the person isn’t there. Nod and keep walking every single time. Don’t let anyone know what’s written here, keep it a secret. Put a clean sheet on top of this one.

“Here’s a list of the things you should look for. This is an old castle, there might be secret passages that we need to find out about before someone sneaks in,” Seth said, handing her the paper. She immediately started reading.

“Knox, you’re looking up higher, pay attention to cold or warm drafts and the items in the rooms, make note of which ones have weapons, look for places where the intruder could be staying,” Seth said, handing him a piece of paper that read:

Tess is going to ask to speak to everyone she sees. She has magic eyes like Kendra. If you see who she’s pointing to, tell her that you’re too busy to bother them. If you don’t see who she is pointing to, tell her that there’s no one there and you don’t have time for games. Make notes, but don’t engage.

He turned to Newel, “Your job is to make sure no one runs into walls while writing stuff down, and make sure to explore everything. Bring the cool stuff back to me, so that our item troll doesn’t try to keep it for the shelves.” Seth said, spouting nonsense. “Write down where you find it though, in case Agad says we need to return it or unleash another apocalypse.”

“Better to ask forgiveness than permission,” Newel nodded with a salute. Seth handed him a paper that read:

If someone was listening to our meeting, they are going to be following you. Watch for them. Tess and Knox are going to be acting weird, just ignore them. You’re on protector duty.

And Seth handed fully blank sheets to Doren, “And, of course, you’re on the map. Here’s paper, pens, clipboard, and scotch tape. Everyone know their job?”

The four of them looked excited as they nodded. “Good,” Seth said, “Meet back in the War Room after lunch.”

Doren and Newel slung another salute. Tess tried to copy them and slapped herself in the face. Knox just rolled his eyes.

They left, and Seth debated between going to check up on Grandma and Grandpa, or heading straight to Seth Tower.

His grandparents couldn’t set anything in stone without Hendrick, so he’d head to the Tower. He’d be able to see Henrick coming back, and take him to Grandma and Grandpa when the Alcetaur arrived.

Up at the tower room, Marat and Agad were waiting for him.

“So, magic defenses in place?” Seth asked.

Agad nodded, “Perfect, just like I said twenty minutes ago. Mind explaining more of your plan?”

“Sure,” Seth said, “Grandma and Grandpa are doing exactly what I said they were. Running the past week from Blackwell made them the best people for that, until Hendrick gets back to help. Tanu is also doing exactly what I told him too.

“I sent Tess, Knox, and the satyrs looking for people hiding themselves with distractor spells, but they look like they’re creating a fresh map of the lower floors. Tess is pointing out everyone she sees to Knox, Knox is telling her that they’re too busy to talk to anyone and taking note of the people that Tess sees that he doesn’t. Because they’re the group doing the most suspicious work, I’m hoping any spies here are following them, letting the rest of us get things done. Newel is on the look out for someone following them, and thinks that’s what he thinks they’re doing. Doren is actually creating a map.”

Seth was rather proud of that plan, and feeling pretty ingenious for coming up with it in only ten minutes.

“Once again, not bad,” Agad said.

Seth gave a dry smile, “I learned from the best teacher. The Sphinx betraying me and my friends over and over. After this, I’m going to do my own sweep, trying to see through the shadows while shadow walking.”

“Might I recommend also holding your unsheathed sword at the same time?” Marat said. “That is the sword of Tregain, yes?”

Seth glanced down, “Oh that’s right! This sword helps make people look away from me, especially bigger creatures. I’ll definitely do that.”

“A very pro-active plan,” Agad said, “I will admit to not even considering the idea of someone hiding in the Blackwell. The barrel messes with the traditional rule of only allowing visitors a single night of stay, as that magic is activated upon crossing the boundary.”

“I do not believe that is all to our caretaker’s plan,” Marat said, amused, “I believe he feels he will do more for our mission elsewhere, and intends to return the mantle of caretaker to me.”

Agad gaped, then turned, “Is this true, Seth?”

Seth nodded, “Celebrant is no longer co-caretaker. The issue we came here to solve, the weakening barrier, is fixed. There’s no problem with Marat being caretaker, according to Dromadus, so long as he stays in human form. I’d be a lot more useful helping track down Kendra and Bracken.”

“Before you go any farther,” Agad said, holding up a hand, “There are things I wish to disclose to the caretaker of a dragon sanctuary. The remaining lines of defense after the sanctuaries fall. We can continue to discuss your possible resignation afterwards.”

Seth hopped onto a wide window ledge, “Okay, hit me. What else we got before the next apocalypse?”

“These secrets should not be repeated,” Agad warned, “Except to your most trusted ally at the time of greatest need.”

Seth glanced at Marat, who nodded, “I am already aware of the provisions my brother speaks of. Do not worry.”

“The first is why Dragons from fallen sanctuaries have yet to invade the mortal world,” Agad explained, “There is a magic item, perhaps the most magic item in existence —”

“More then the Wizenstone?” Seth asked, eyebrows raised. He was starting to suspect that there wasn’t an actual standard for how ‘magic’ an item is.

Agad paused, and Marat chuckled. Agad continued, “No, I suppose, not greater than the Wizenstone. Possibly it’s equal. I would not like to test either object against the other. The skull of the first dragon that ever lived, Abraxtus, is more heavily ensorcelled, than any other object I have ever come in contact with. It is called The Sovereign Skull. It takes all the disbelief in magic that all mortals generate, and creates a repulsive barrier against dragons. This is our absolute last line of defense, and must be protected at all costs. Only a few wizards know the location, and that information will never be divulged for its own protection.”

Seth nodded, “Can I have the name of a wizard that does know? Just in case.”

Agad looked him straight in the eye. “No.”

Seth nodded, “That’s fair. Sounds like we’re hoping it doesn’t get that far.” As though they had ever had any luck in that department.

“Another line of defense: the Dragon Slayers,” Agad said.

Seth grinned, “The Somber Knight was so cool. A bit of a downer, but a real life-saver. He’s still a bit…messy, after rescuing Kendra from being dinner. You’re talking about the ones at the other six sanctuaries, right?”

Agad nodded, “In addition to the other six at sanctuaries, there are five others that have been living in the world, waiting to be called upon again. It will take a while to wake them up, but Celebrant declaring war was the key.”

Seth nodded, “You did the same thing with the dragon preserves that you did with the demon prisons. How are these guys at handling immortality? We sure they didn’t try to off themselves?”

Agad said, “They all already had experiences with extended lifespans, so hopefully we are rousing them from a pleasurable retirement. And then there is a line of defense you are slightly more familiar with: the three treasures in the secret dragon temples.”

“Right, gauntlets that control dragons. Every dragon in a hundred miles comes by to kill you if you look at them funny,” Seth recited, remembering Thronis’s warning.

Agad nodded, “There are two other items, and two other sacred temples guarding these items at dragon sanctuaries. The harp that can send any dragon to sleep, and the shield that can defend against any dragon’s attack. These items were necessary to winning the war against the dragons the first time, and now that we’re facing war again, we need them back.”

Seth tilted his head, “Did they already get new guardians for the temple here at Wyrmroost? Cause we killed them, and its not like those were your ordinary, everyday dragons, and no one besides Gavin and Thronis knew we went there for the obsidian waste key.”

“It would be foolish to assume they aren’t guarded,” Agad said, considering carefully, “Though it is also strange that Celebrant has never ranted against your party for that affront. The answer is that I do not know.”

There was a moment of silence as everyone thought about the predicament.

“Well,” Seth said, “How buried is the translocator? Me and Kendra have been in the temple treasure room, we, er, I, for the moment, could grab the gloves and come back in a snap.”

Marat spoke up, “Bringing the translocator back into play at this time would be a dangerous move. That item is really too powerful. Dragons in human form could use it to escape the sanctuaries without a fight.”

Agad nodded, “All the artifacts are currently inaccessible. We used the Chronometer to hide the translocator, the sands of sanctity, and the occulous six more years in the future, waiting for us to finish designing the vaults. The Font needed to remain in the present, to support our first immortal, but that is the only artifact accessible. At least, until the Sphinx made off with it during his escape. Good thinking, but unfortunately untenable.”

A horn sounded from the parapet over the gate.

“That means a dragon is coming, right?” Seth asked, turning around in the window. “Raxtus maybe?”

“It means official visitors,” Marat clarified, “It certainly has been seeing its use this week. It also announced the arrival of the carriage from Stormguard.”

“Got it,” Seth said, standing up, “Anything else you need to tell the current caretaker of wyrmroost about the grand scheme of defenses?”

“No, those are our three lines: talismans, dragon slayers, and The Sovereign Skull,” Agad counted.

“Okay, I’ll keep those in mind, and never tell anyone, unless I absolutely have to,” Seth said, drawing a cross over his heart for good measure. “My plan is simple. Celebrant is a great big ego, right? He hates Kendra for insulting him, and it’s embarrassing that he keeps losing to a couple of kids. He’s getting help, he’s getting desperate, no matter what his plan is, right?”

Agad nodded.

“So, I’m going to offer him one last insult as caretaker,” Seth said with a grin, “His little rebellion isn’t even worth my time. After we deal with our guests at the gate, I’m going to do my sweep of everywhere while walking through shadows. Then I’m going to give being caretaker over to Marat, and we’re going to leave, with the barrel. That’s Blackwell’s biggest weakness, and it doesn’t need to be here for us to use it. I’ll leave Marat with a parting note to read to Celebrant, letting him know that we have better things to do.”

Agad started chuckling, moving his hand to cover his mouth when it didn’t stop.

“Boom,” Seth said with relish, “Biggest weakness removed, whoever is in the castle has to figure out how to kill Marat, who’s going to be a lot harder to kill than me, I get to go after Kendra, and we throw one last insult over our shoulder.”

Agad continued to laugh, but the most Marat gave was an amused look.

“And how exactly do you intend to leave?” Marat asked, “The walkway between the typical entrance and the Keep will not be guarded for this trip.”

“We have some pretty cool rides,” Seth said, “Not sure you saw them when Patton came in, but Kendra met up with a fairy godmother and boom, the luvians we were riding all have wings. We’ll need to make it so they can leave the sanctuary with us, but if they can make it through the sky on a festival night, they can probably get us past the barrier. We’ll have to ask them of course, but I think we’ll be in pretty good shape. They strike me as adventurous.”

“I would like to make one suggestion,” Agad said, wiping a tear from his eye, “Leave in peace, no one attacks at all, and leave before night falls. I’m sure they intend to strike in the dark. You leave two hours before sunset, and Celebrant likely wont have time to demand to know what you’re doing. Use Tess’s cloak of innocence to see you safely past the barrier.”

“Oh, that is wicked,” Marat chuckled. “But we have dawdled enough. The horn summons the caretaker to official business.”

Seth took one last look out the window and down the road, and paused. He pulled out his eyeglass from his adventure pouch. “Is that…Henrick leading a bunch dryads?”

#Forgotten Light #Fablehaven #Dragon watch #Seth Sorenson #Longer chapter #Look at my little boy #All grown up and leading people

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serena-hart-09 · 3 years ago

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A Story’s Analyzation Chapter 1 : A new fresh page...

This is a GN!MC X Lucifer fic

Mc wakes up in an unfamiliar place or rather, in a chair. Seriously of all places they could find themselves sleeping…. in a chair? They groan a little and struggle to wake up as their back aching as if someone is loudly screaming at them. ‘Where am I?’ they think to themselves. The place is like a big courtroom of sorts. Suddenly, a man shouts: “Welcome to the Devildom, Mc!”

“WAAAGH!” Mc screams startled and falls off the chair. “Oh, my is the human broken?” someone speaks. Mc gets up quickly on high alert only to face several men looking at them some of them with concern while some amused. Adjusting themselves they say “I’m not broken, thank you very much. I just got surprised is all. Anyone would be especially if someone screams at you with that volume. Dammit, my back hurts.” A red-haired man speaks, “oh I apologize about that. Are you alright?”

“I’m alright now. Anyways, who are you?” Mc looks at all of them suspiciously. ‘There are 5 of these weirdos it seems’ they think. “Oh, pardon me. Feeling a bit shocked, are we? Well, that’s understandable. You’ve only just arrived, after all.”

“True, I am quite shocked. But doesn’t answer my question. As it seems you haven’t understood the question, I shall ask it again.” Mc takes a deep breath and askes in a cold and dark voice “Who are you all?” The redhead and everyone look at them with a surprised face. The greenhead beside him also is shocked but looks at them with anger the moment after “That is no way no talk with the Young Master.” “Well, I’m sorry but I talk with people like this with those people who don’t answer a question as simple as this” they say with a bored face. “Who do you think you are?” a black-haired man with scowl on his face askes them.

‘Why all handsome men are rude, taken or are assholes? But at least he has normal hair and doesn’t looks like a person begging for attention with unnatural hair colour’ they think to themselves. “Me, you ask? I’m ‘just a human’ you know?” they tell him with a sly smirk.

“Do not test my patience, human-”

“Now now Luci calm down!” the redhead says.

“Luci? Your name is Luci? Quite cute name for man who looks like he lives with a scowl on his face every single day of his life.” Mc laughs at him.

“You dare-” ‘Luci’ looks at them with a bashful expression. He turns to look at the redhead with shock as he laughs out loud, “Lord Diavolo don’t laugh at this. This rude human is insulting you-”

“Hey, I’m not insulting you. Especially, if you don’t have the courtesy to even tell me your names or introduce yourselves.” Mc says with an annoyance in their voice. “…” the man says nothing while looking away from them, while ‘Lord Diavolo’ (Redhead? Maybe?) is still laughing “But- but they are right Lucifer! Pfffft-”

The redhead looks at them and finally introduces himself “I apologize for the delay of introductions. I am Diavolo. I am the ruler of all demons, and all here know of me. As the Prince of Devildom, one day I shall be crowned king of the Devildom. You are in Devildom.”

“Devildom, you say?” they ask with interest evident on their face.

“Yes exactly, the Devildom. I see that you catch on quickly. Excellent.” He says with small smile. He continues, “This is the Royal Academy of Diavolo. We just call it RAD. You are standing inside the assembly hall, the very heart of RAD. This is where we officers of the Student Council of RAD hold our meetings and conduct our business. I’m the President of the Council”

“……..I see, why am I here? Mc asks cautiously slowly trying to take the information that is bombarded on them.

“I will explain everything to you.” ‘Luci’ says suddenly with a serious expression. “Ah, yes. Mc, this is Lucifer. He is a demon and the Avatar of Pride. ‘Luci’ is his nickname. He is also the Vice President of the Student Council and my right-hand man….and not just in title, I assure you. Beyond that, he’s also my most trusted friend.” Mc raises an eyebrow at that.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Diavolo and do not call me that nonsensical ‘nickname’.” Lucifer tells him with a stern expression. Then he looks at Mc again with a small smirk (or rather a forced one) while still looking like he wants set them on fire, he continues anyways, “Speaking on behalf of the entire student body……. I offer you a most heartfelt welcome, Mc.”

“I shall be little polite now, but as I said, please answer my question. Please do so before I do something we both would regret.” They say with a tired expression. They were tired. Tired taking this whole new bag of information swung at them like a bat. They wanted this to be over. They knew that this wasn’t a dream, they knew very well how dreams are like………but by God they wish that this was a dream. ‘Please let’s just get the formalities over with!’ they begged in their head.

“Interesting. This one is quite different from Solomon.” Lucifer smiles.

“….” They said nothing as shock covers their face for a minute.

Ignoring their shock, he continues “Diavolo believes that we demons should start strengthening our relationship with both the Human World and the Celestial Realm.” ‘Wait…. WHAT’ Mc’s mouth was agape with shock. “As a first step towards this goal, we’ve decided to institute an exchange program. We’ve sent two of our students to the Human World and two to the Celestial Realm. The period of stay for all exchange students is one year.”

Recovering from the shock, Mc asks “So I’m one of the two exchange students? And other there are other two from the Celestial Realm?”

Lucifer wearing a little comfortable expression, agrees. “……. I see that’s good I shall try my best and help you!” they say with an excited expression.

“It’s true you may feel agitated-” Lucifer stops mid-sentence to look at with a baffled expression but continues, “…. after one year, you will write a paper about your stay here in Devildom.”

“Alright! Will do!” the human says with a happy expression.

“…..” Lucifer now thinks that this human maybe is broken or naïve or probably stupid.

After a moment Mc speaks, “I don’t know much about this place and the education system or the syllabus so, I request your help during the stay.”

“…. Of course,” he says. “You need someone to guard you in this place as you are a meal to the other demons here.”

“Really? Do I need a guard? I can just guard myself very well.”

“Yes, you will need one. That someone will be my brother Mammon.”

Ah, the ‘I want to punch you but I’m holding back’ smile is back. This man-…. demon gets very mad very easily it seems. ‘He should probably attend some anger management classes.’

“Okay I won’t complain.”

“Good. Back to the topic….”

He hands them a device which looks similar if not is a smartphone. “Oh?”

“This is a D.D.D. similar to the smartphones you have in the Human World.”

Mc inspects the device and turns it on.

“The contacts of my brothers and I have been already added to D.D.D.”

“Wow. Thanks.” They him a little smile.

“Now go ahead try calling Mammon.”

“Alright, I guess.” They press the call option.

“Yoooo.” A new voice is heard through the device.

“Yooooooo, to you too.” They say while snickering.

“Are ya foolin’ around? Who the hell are you?”

“I……am a human! Tada!”

“Whaaaa? A human? Geez, I was gettin’ all chilly here thinkin’ it was Lucifer again. Should’ve told me right away.” He continues after a huff “So, what does a human got with THE Mammon?”

“Lucifer here said that you will be in charge of me from now on. So, he told me to call you. I think wants you to come here.”

“No way! There’s nothin’ in it for me. Whaddya even mean by ‘be in charge of you’?”

“Well….”

“AHH! I get it now, you’re the other human- the new exchange student!”

“Yeah so-”

“Good luck with that, and see ya.”

Mc felt as if something snapped in them. “What do mean by ‘see ya’? You think I wanted this? Well don’t worry, because when I see you, I’ll punch you hard. I’m already on edge as it is after all, I found out I am transported in Devildom of all places. If you think this is trouble then I will show you trouble once I send Ling Long at your arse. Mind you, Ling Long is a dragon. Plus, I think it’s alright even if you don’t come here after all, he needs a new toy to play. He’s getting bored with the old one yknow?” they say with a small sadistic smile. “And I’m serious, Mammon or whatever. So, get here in the assembly hall of RAD you lil-”

“OI you can’t be serious!”

“I am, try me.”

“Oh yeah? Well-”

Mid call Lucifer comes near me “You’ve got 10 seconds 9…. 8…”

“YESSIR” Mammon yells. Then the call ends.

“About the thing with Ling Long…… it’s not true. I don’t hurt people with families especially if their families are near the place where I’m standing. I just want to get things over with.” Mc says with an apologetic and tired smile. This time, Lucifer smiles as well “ah, yes I see. I figured as much. However, what about the aforementioned dragon?”

“Yes, he is my pet dragon.”

“Oh? Where is he then?”

“……. You want to meet him?” Mc looks at Lucifer with nervousness and hesitation evident in their face.

“…. Yes? Why is he shy?”

“No, quite the opposite actually. The problem is…he is huge like very huge his size alone may destroy the assembly hall……so…” they look at their side.

“I…. see. Though I am interested to meet ‘Ling Long’. You see, even I have a beloved monster pet too.”

“Woah! Really?!” they ask with sparkles in their eyes. Lucifer looks at them with a smile. Lucifer opens his mouth to say something but before he could Diavolo’s voice interrupts him, “Lucifer, why don’t you introduce your brothers?” Lucifer sighs dramatically as if to say ‘when is this day going to finish?’

“Do I have to?” he groans in displeasure.

“Lucifer how mean! How could not introduce your adorable brother?!” a man with beautiful champagne-coloured hair pout at him.

“You are a shopaholic more than adorable, Asmo.” A blonde hair man dead pans at him.

“Both of you, stop it. Mc this over-excited brother of mine is Asmodeus.”

“Hi!” at a minute Asmodeus is at your side “I am Asmodeus! But you may call me Asmo!” Mc looks at him with a bashful face. ‘Does this man know of personal space? Why are his eyes shining like that?’ they wonder.

“Asmodeus, stop it now.” Lucifer’s commanding voice makes the man look at him but he only smiles at Lucifer.

“Hey Asmodeus, why are your eyes shining like that?” Mc asks him.

This make Asmodeus grin at them “Do you like them, Mc?” he asks them with a husky voice.

“No, I think they are creepy.”

“WHAT?” He looks at them with shock. “Wh…… Why…….?” Mc continues to look at him with a question mark on their face. “He was bewitching you.” A new voice fills in.

“What?” they look at the blonde-haired man.

“He was trying to seduce you. He is the Avatar of Lust after all. But it seems you are not affected by him……. Interesting.”

“……What……” They look at Asmodeus with a scary looking face.

“EeeeK-”

“Lucifer, I’m hungry” A giant orange haired man frowns looking at Lucifer.

“Endure it for now, Beel.” Lucifer tells him while he pinches his nose bridge with his fingers. Asmodeus screams about how weird and how this is his first time that a human is not bewitched by him and stuff. ‘I feel bad for him’

“Here, I have some candies.” They say as they give the candies to the giant man.

“Thanks!” his face lights up with a childlike excitement. “My name is Beelzebub. Avatar of Gluttony.”

‘He is cute like a puppy…. hehe’ they think, “I am Mc, Beelzebub. It is nice meeting you.”

“You can call me Beel.”

“Alright, Beel it is.”

“I know Lucifer won’t introduce me but I am Satan. The Avatar of Wrath. I hope we get along well.” The blonde says with a polite smile.

“Ah, yes thank you for warning me about your brother.” They shake hands with Satan. A distant “Hey!” from Asmodeus could be heard in the back ground.

“It’s my pleasure. Also, I would like to know more about your dragon.” He smiles at them.

Just then, a loud bang is heard as the oh so awaited THE Mammon comes in. “Human, you have some guts to threaten the Great Mammon!” He looks at them with anger.

“Maaaaaamooooon?” Lucifer voice is laced with hostility. ‘Well, wow.’ They think.

“I- I mean I’m happy to meet ya!” his face covered in fear as he stutters out the words.

Lucifer sighs for like a hundredth time that day before he says, “Well, now the introductions have been taken care of, Mc.”

“Yes?”

“You will be living with me and my brothers in The House of Lamentation, for the whole year.”

“Oh…… um alright I guess.”

“Now” He looks at Mc with a smirk. “Let’s go back home brothers.”

Mc smiles back at him. The others brothers are either complaining about their responsibilities (Mammon, obviously) or complaining about other stuff. Throughout the ride Lucifer looks at the human and observes them with intensity……. because they are smirking……throughout the whole ordeal.

…….

…..

…

‘Well, it seems a new story has begun.

Let’s see, if this one is interesting. If these pawns are worth the effort……hehehehe…….’

#shall we date obey me #obey me fic #obey me #obey me x mc #obey me lucifer #lucifer x reader #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me solomon

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sukifans · 4 years ago

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PET • RI • CHOR

[n] a pleasant smell that accompanies the first rain after a long period of warm, dry weather

ZUKO X OC SERIES

SUMMARY: a captured waterbender and the fire prince may sound like an unlikely pair, but kena never much cared about others’ expectations and zuko, well… he was just along for the ride

A/N: hm that summary was kind of... terrible. but wow okay that first bit got way more attention than i honestly thought it would. thank you all so much for the love, it’s really brought up my mood and i’ve been feeling pretty down being stuck at my parents’ house during all... this. i’m so happy y’all enjoyed and i look forward to bringing you more Content TM by eventually opening up for requests and stuff like that if anyone is interested 🥺 as before, absolutely reply/message/ask/telegraph/etc me any questions/comments/tag requests!! love y’all!!!

⏎ MASTERLIST // PROLOGUE i « PROLOGUE ii » PART I

They managed to keep their friendship mostly a secret for a little while. Zuko knew his father wouldn’t approve, so they either snuck out to talk together at nights or he’d make up excuses to visit the infirmary. He’d lie about some vague illness symptoms or “slip up” during his training and sustain a few burns. As time passed, they had to get more and more creative. Ursa figured it out relatively quickly, but she thought Kena and their budding relationship was good for the young prince. Zuko didn’t really care one way or another if his mother knew — as long as Ozai never heard about them, it didn’t matter. She often even helped facilitate their little meetings, even if they didn’t know it. One warm June day, Ursa took Zuko to the newly-bloomed field of fire lilies on the palace grounds under the pretense of taking a walk around the gardens.

“Aren’t they lovely, Zuko?” She stroked his hair while they sat in the shade of a cherry blossom tree overlooking the field.

“Yeah,” he said. “I think fire lilies are my favorite.”

“You know, girls love flowers.”

“So?” Zuko scrunched up his face as he looked at his mom, who smiled.

“I’m just saying, if there’s ever a girl you like, you should bring her flowers. I think she’d really like it.”

“Ew, Mom! I don’t like any girls, they’re gross.” He stuck his tongue out comically and she laughed at him.

“What about Mai and Ty Lee?”

“Yes!”

“Even me?”

He hesitated. “Well, no. But you’re not a girl!”

She laughed again. “What am I, then?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “You’re just Mom.”

“If you say so, my love,” she said gently. Ursa dropped the topic after that and pretended not to notice when the prince sneakily pocketed a flower when he thought she wasn’t looking.

Later that evening, he found Kena in a deserted corridor as they’d planned and presented her the flower abruptly, flushing wildly. The butterflies in his stomach went wild when he saw her eyes go big and her lips part in surprise.

“It’s for you,” he said, avoiding her gaze. “I saw it in the garden and thought of you because they’re my favorite and you’re my favorite, and they’re really pretty and I think you’re really pretty too.” Her face reddened as much as his and she beamed, reaching out to take the flower. Before he could react, she had engulfed him in a hug. He closed his eyes and squeezed her back tightly, setting his chin on her shoulder.

“Thanks, Zuko. I love it.” She twirled it around in her fingers absently as she took a step back. “You’re my favorite too, you know.”

“I would hope so!” They both giggled, shyly looking at anything but each other.

“I told my mom I would help her with something tonight, so I have to go,” she said, lips pulling into a frown. Zuko frowned too.

“Oh. Okay.” He rubbed the toe of his shoe against the ground.

“I’ll see you again soon, though, okay? And I’ll stay longer.”

“You promise?” Zuko held out his hand, pinky extended. She grinned again and entwined her little finger with his.

“I promise.” Before either of them could step away, she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek. His mouth dropped open, face deep red all over again, and she dashed away while laughing. “Bye!” she called over her shoulder, waving.

“B-bye,” he whispered, hand raising to where she’d kissed him. Slowly, his face lit up into a wide smile and he turned to go back to his room, stomach full of butterflies again.

The next evening at dinner, Ozai set down his cutlery and looked at his son.

“Prince Zuko,” he began and the boy looked up from his plate, which he’d been smiling faintly at, “I hear you’ve made a friend.”

The boy’s brow furrowed. “I did?”

“It’s his girlfriend, Dad,” Azula taunted from across the table and Zuko paled. “That water tribe girl in the infirmary.”

“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t lie to me, son,” Ozai said coolly. “Azula said she saw you sneaking around with her last night. What were you doing with her?”

“Zuzu gave her a flower and she kissed him!” said Azula, grinning devilishly. Ozai’s eyebrows raised and Ursa looked nervously between father and son.

“Is this true?” Ozai asked.

“I, uh- um, well-“ Zuko stammered out incoherently. He’d never forgive himself if Kena got in trouble because of him. Well, he’d never forgive Azula for telling their father, anyways.

“Answer.”

“Yes,” Zuko sighed and looked down at the table. “But she’s not my girlfriend. I just... thought she’d like the fire lily because I don’t think she’s ever been to the gardens to see them before.”

“I told him to give her the flower,” Ursa cut in quickly. Zuko breathed a quiet sigh of relief. “I noticed the girl always looks miserable and I thought she’d work better with some cheering up.” She played it off easily, twisting the truth enough to maybe placate her husband. Ozai simply glared at her before looking back at his son who still looked remarkably pale.

“You’re not close with her, then?” he asked.

“No, I’m not,” Zuko lied. “I just see her around.”

“So you wouldn’t be upset if I were to, say, send her and her mother to prison with the rest of the waterbending savages?” Zuko felt lightheaded at the thought of Kena in a cell, suffering and lonely and sad.

“My lord-“ Ursa started.

“Silence,” Ozai snapped before continuing to taunt the prince. “You wouldn’t care, then, if I had them executed?”

Despite the warning voice in the back of his head, Zuko jumped to his feet. “They’re innocent people, you can’t do that!”

“Actually, I think you’ll find that I can and I will. Maybe if the snow savages die you’ll learn to respect your position and your father.” He picked up his fork again and resumed eating like nothing had happened. “Sana, take Prince Zuko to his chambers and keep an eye on him. He will not be seeing that girl again.”

As a frightened-looking Sana ushered a furious and horrified Zuko away from the table, he shot a vicious glare at his sister. Azula’s face was stony. She hadn’t meant for the stupid girl to end up dead, she’d just wanted to get her brother in trouble and maybe have the girl sent away. Now Zuko would never play Love Amongst the Dragons with her again, and it just wasn’t as fun with Mai or Ty Lee as the Dark Water Spirit.

Walking down a corridor away from the dining hall, Zuko made a turn to go to the infirmary when Sana stopped him. He gave her an angry look and she sighed.

“Your father said to go to your room, Prince Zuko.” She set a hand on his shoulder and he shrugged her off.

“I will, but I have to warn Kena and her mom first. I can’t just let my father hurt them.”

Sana crouched in front of him so they were eye to eye and she cupped his face in her hands. “Prince Zuko, if your father finds out I didn’t take you directly to your room and keep you there, he’ll hurt me too.” His eyes widened at the realization. He hadn’t even considered that. “I’ll do what I can to get the word to them, but right now I need you to come with me.”

“Okay,” he said quietly, following her as she walked in the direction of his bedroom. He couldn’t let his father hurt Sana either; she had been taking care of him for as long as he could remember and he loved her like family. It wasn’t a risk he was willing to take and he was confident she’d be able to send word through the network of palace staff. He just hoped the message would reach them in time.

A/N: just another small bit of prologue to establish the relationship between zuko and kena. also i guess i’m calling this petrichor? idk it’ll make more sense later. anyways!! hope you enjoyed this small update!!

TAGS: @beifongsss @the-lva-way @lammello @llorom6nnic @idkdude776 @bubblebars @royahllty

#mine #petrichor #atla #avatar the last airbender #atla fic #atla fanfic #zuko #zuko x oc #atla zuko #prince zuko #prince zuko x oc #zuko fanfic #avatar fic #zuko fic #zuko x reader #prince zuko x reader #the last airbender

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heyitsani · 4 years ago

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I Keep My Eyes Wide Open Chapter 3

Word Count: 6024

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Major character death (eventually), Mentions of past rape/non-con (eventually)

Pairing: Jason Todd/Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne/Jon Kent (hinted?)

Summary: Damian spends some time away from Gotham and learns a few things for himself and his future.

Notes: Just a heads up, I have decided to NOT post next week at all. I have a lot left to do in regards to Christmas for my gremlins so I’m going to be focusing on that. That MIGHT mean I’ll give you two chapters the week after, but it might not. Who knows? My oldest’s bday is New Year’s Day so it depends on that really. You’ll get one that day, but you might get one before that too.

If you have not read When You Move I Move, this one won’t really make much sense. So you can read that here: WYMIM

You can also read this chapter on AO3 here

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

Leaning forward to look out the window of the carriage, Damian took in the large fields of what he assumed were crops, that paved the way up to the main city of Metropolis. He remembered Jon writing about how he and his father would go down and help with the harvest because his father believed that even a king should know how to reap a field.

Damian also remembered being fascinated with the idea. When he had inquired about it to his own father, the man had laughed and said that it sounded exactly like something King Clark would say. He also said that if Damian ever wanted to experience that for himself, he was sure one of their local farmers would be more than happy to teach him. He saved the idea for a later date because he was sure his mother would have many words to say about ‘lowering himself to peasant standards’ and the eleven-year-old was tired of the lectures.

“What do you think Little Prince?” Damian glanced over at Ser Jason, who had accompanied him on his journey at his father’s request. “Their kingdom is different from our own, but I think you’ll find they are a people who love their king just as much as Gotham loves your father.”

Nodding his head, he looked back out the window. “Father said the people are kinder, warmer.” Ser Jason hummed and Damian didn’t bother looking back to him. “I am looking forward to a different perspective when it comes to ruling a kingdom. King Clark is so different from Father and Grandfather.”

“He is,” Ser Jason agreed. “Your father has learned much from his friendship with the King of Metropolis, but the same could be said the other way. If you are not willing to learn from others, then you have no business ruling over anyone.”

“Why is that?”

He leaned back into his seat as he turned green eyes onto the Dragon Slayer, watching the other man’s relaxed posture across from him. It had been a long journey, but Damian had noticed the other man relax the further they got away from Gotham despite who they were both leaving behind.

“A king should be strong, and he should be smart,” Ser Jason gave him a look, “but he should also be kind and malleable. No one man is infallible. No one man has all the answers. And the man who thinks he knows all he needs to know is someone who will demand allegiance over earning it.” And Damian didn’t need to know much about ruling to know that anyone who demanded their citizens follow them rarely was an adored ruler.

“How to you stop from becoming that person?” He kept his eyes on Ser Jason while the other man considered him carefully. Damian wondered what was going through his mind, but Ser Jason had always been good at protecting his thoughts from his eyes. Unlike a lot of people.

“I suppose you surround yourself with people who would be willing to tell you when you are making a mistake,” Ser Jason shrugged. “And you always make sure you’re willing to admit when you’ve actually made one.”

Damian considered the words and nodded. It made sense. His grandfather had struggled with admitting when he was wrong. It had been an issue with his council and even some of the citizens of Gotham. His father didn’t seem to suffer from that same issue. If anything, from what he had seen, the man accepted faults that were not his to accept. But how did you find a balance that two of the greatest men he had ever known couldn’t seem to find?

“Little Prince, we have many years to be sure that you know how to be better than your grandfather and left self-sacrificing than your father.” Damian wasn’t sure what to say to that, but was granted a pardon when Ser Jason leaned forward and looked out the window. “Ah, we are here.”

Allowing his gaze to look out the window, Damian saw as they passed the walls of the city and headed toward the center where the castle was nestled. When he had studied the layout of the kingdom, Damian had been surprised that they had built the city around the castle. But then his father had informed him that the castle used to be a religious center point. But then the kingdom had discovered that the religious leaders had been sacrificing to their “gods” and the citizens had overthrown the establishment. Once the religious leaders had been dealt with, the citizens voted to make the building the home of the king instead. It brought new light to the mindset of those living in Metropolis.

Once they pulled up to the castle itself, Damian settled back into his seat and waited. He could see King Clark’s imposing figure waiting for them, along with the other members of the royal family. It made him a little nervous to be on their terms now, but at least he had Ser Jason with him.

Once everything had come to a stop, Ser Jason moved closer to the door so he could exit first when the footman came to open the door, allowing him to survey the conditions before Damian followed. Once Damian’s feet were on the ground, he was immediately enclosed in a familiar pair of arms.

“Jon, my boy,” he could hear King Clark laughing. “Let His Highness at least get both feet on the ground.” Jon was suddenly being pulled away and Damian face to face with him and the king who had tugged his son away. “Hello Ser Todd, Prince Damian. Welcome to Metropolis. Again, for you I suppose Ser Todd.”

“Your Majesty,” Ser Jason gave a bow of respect. “And Your Highness, good to see your exuberance again.” Ser Jason chuckled at the fourteen-year-old’s enthusiastic greeting.

“Thank you for having us, Your Majesty,” Damian greeted the older man with a bow of his own before turning a smile onto Jon and allowing it to grow when Jon’s did as well. “Your Highness, good to see you again. And Your Majesty,” he nodded to the woman who came up behind Jon. He could see Duke Kon and his uncle a few feet back, but he gave the royal couple his immediate attention because tradition called for it.

“Please, no need to be so formal here. I know your father would not stand upon ceremony, so neither should you.” Damian nodded at the king before looking around the trio to see his uncle. “Ah yes, I am sure you have been looking forward to seeing your uncle.”

Without having to be told, Damian moved forward to reach his uncle who met him halfway. “Nephew,” his uncle greeted him, hugging him tightly for a moment before releasing him so Damian could turn and hug his uncle by marriage. “We’re so glad you’re here. How was the ride?”

“Long, but comfortable,” Damian responded when he released the Duke and looked over at his uncle. “I have a few things from home for you that Father said you would appreciate.” He watched his uncle’s gaze turn curious before he looked over at Ser Jason and smiled brightly.

“Ser Todd,” he greeted formally, but laughed when the slayer picked him up in a tight hug before putting him back on his feet and shaking the hand of his husband. “My brother was unable to break away, then?”

“Unfortunately not,” Ser Jason responded with a frown. Damian knew that his mother had something to do with the fact that his father couldn’t join them, but he wasn’t aware as to what it was. “But he sent me in his place. Is that not just as good? Am I not enough for you, Duke Timothy?” His uncle chuckled and Ser Jason pressed a hand to his chest as though he were offended.

“Damian, I’ll show you where you’re staying,” Jon slipped in-between Damian and Ser Jason, reaching for the younger’s hand. “You can talk to the grown-ups later.”

“No need to lie about it, Nephew,” the duke laughed. “We all know you just want your friend to yourself. It’s quite all right.” The five adults all laughed as the Jon huffed and tugged Damian away from them toward the entrance of the castle.

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

“Do you think you will make a good king?”

The question was surprising mostly because it was coming from Jon and not King Clark, but also because rarely did people ask about his future role in the kingdom. He didn’t like to think too much about taking over his father’s throne, not sure he would ever be ready for that. His father was such a beloved man and his mother made it clear she expected him to be better than his father. But how did you best that?

“I hope to make my father proud,” was all he could think of to say. He looked up from the game sitting on the floor between him and Jon, considering the teen across from him. “My mother has so many expectations, but Father just wants me to be who I am. He does not tell me to be one way or another.”

He watched Jon hum before looking down at the game and making his move. “My father is much the same. He tells me what he would do, but then tells me that I must make decisions on what I think is best. Sometimes I am not certain what that means.”

Damian could sympathize with that.

His father was such a good man, a good king. He was the ultimate standard to live up to and while Damian wanted nothing more than to do just that, he also knew his father didn’t want that of him. He didn’t want Damian to be just like him.

“When our fathers are such great men, it is hard to not want to be just like them,” Damian admitted as he watched Jon move his pieces. “But if we are just like them, then who are we really?” He glanced up at Jon and found the older boy nodded, looking at a spot somewhere behind Damian.

“I likely have many years before I am seated on the throne,” Jon told him. Damian knew Metropolis allowed their king to rule until he felt unfit or he passed, unlike Gotham where an heir took the throne when they reached the age of 25. Damian would likely be king before Jon, should King Clark’s health hold out and peace remain. “But I think about whether or not I want the crown frequently. I know I am my father’s sole heir, but Uncle Kon could easily take the throne if I didn’t want it.”

“And what would your father say if you decided that being king was not what you wanted?”

“I do not know for certain. It is only a passing thought, nothing to question just yet.” But Damian felt like perhaps it was something that should be questioned. Why continue with all the lessons and training if ultimately you didn’t want to take the crown? He had never considered what it would be like to abdicate. Between his mother’s expectations and the desire to be just like his father, he’s not sure he ever could.

“What would you do?”

“Hmm?”

“If you decided to drop your claim to the throne, what would you do?” Damian questioned, watching Jon closely. The fourteen-year-old shrugged and looked at Damian but remained silent. “I was basically born to take the throne. My parents do not love each other the way your parents do. My father…he loves someone he can never marry, and my mother came to him knowing, but hoping for more. Her only purpose was to provide him an heir, me.” He wasn’t sure where was taking this, but it felt like it had to mean something.

“Just because the circumstances were less than ideal, does not mean you were only wanted for that purpose,” Jon commented. Damian supposed he was right, but if he didn’t become king, what was the point of all of it? “Your father would love you no matter what you decided. But I know you well enough to know you will be King of Gotham when you turn 25 and your father will be so proud.”

“And you?”

“We shall have to see, won’t we?”

Damian wanted to answer, but there was something in his tone that made him pause and just observe. The look on his face was thoughtful, considering. It was unnerving and Damian wasn’t sure how to take it. He had seen a look like that on his father’s face before when looking at Ser Todd, but he wasn’t sure that was really comparable when he thought about it.

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The air was crisp as he walked the fields with Ser Jason on one side and Jon on the other. The pair spoke over his head about some adventure Ser Jason had been on since the last visit Jon had made to Gotham, but Damian had long stopped listening. It wasn’t that he wasn’t interested, it was just that the surrounding areas interested him more.

“Do you hear that?” Ser Jason’s question broke through Damian’s musings and pulled the younger man to look at him. Furrowing his brows, Damian tried to listen for whatever it was the older man had heard but all he could pick up was the rustling sound of the wheat in the breeze.

But then there was a whimpering sound.

“There,” Damian said, turning and hurrying toward the sound. The other two called out to him, but he knew they were following just by the sound of the wheat stalks moving. His green eyes scanned the direction the whimper had come from as he rushed toward it, looking for anything that might have been making the noise.

“Little Prince!” Ser Jason called out in warning just as Damian spotted the small black creature attempting to pull its leg out of a tangle of rope. The animal howled at the sight of them and backed away, baring its teeth at the perceived threat.

Damian held his hands up and approached slowly, shaking off Ser Jason’s hand when it landed on his shoulder.

“Damian, please.” He paused to look back at the older man, frowning at the concern he saw on his features. It was rare for the older man to use his first name so casually. “Let me try and get the pup free.” Looking back to the dog, Damian dropped his hands and stopped moving so the other man could carefully approach the dog.

Jon stood shoulder to shoulder with him and the pair watched the slayer carefully kneel down once he was close enough and held out a hand for the dog to sniff. The dog nosed at the offered hand before going back to trying to get its leg out.

“Let me help,” Ser Jason muttered, reaching slowly for the rope. He paused for only a moment when the dog let out a growl before he realized the man was trying to help. “How did this happen, hmm? You must have been dragging this rope for quite some way. It looks like it has caught on some roots here,” he called over his shoulder as he worked to loosen the knot.

The instant the dog’s leg was free, he backed away from the three of them but didn’t run off. Damian found it curious.

Moving forward, he knelt next to Ser Jason and watched the dog, locking eyes with the animal. “What kind of dog is he?” Damian questioned, shifting forward so he could get closer to it.

“Looks like a breed of hunting dog the villagers raise. I am not certain,” Jon called over to him. Damian hummed and stopped when he was within arms reach of the dog and just waited. “What are you doing, Damian?”

“He needs to be looked at. He could have hurt himself. And he certainly looks as though he needs a good meal,” Damian commented, still watching the dog as it began to inch over to him. “He could have run, but he didn’t. He is not afraid of us, but he needs reason to trust us.” He could hear movement behind him and assumed Ser Jason had stood and moved over to Jon’s side, but didn’t bother looking. He kept his gaze solely on the dog. Slowly, cautiously, Damian moved to hold his hand out for the dog to smell just as he had seen Ser Jason do and waited for the cold nose of the pup to connect with his palm.

“That’s a good pup,” he murmured as he allowed his hand to run over the head of the dog. “I shall call you Titus for now.”

“Saved.” Ser Jason’s voice sounded amused and Damian spared him a glance, finding a smirk on his face. “Fitting, Little Prince.” The words were said in jest, but Damian knew that look in his eyes. Pride. With a nod, Damian looked back to the pup and carefully moved to run his hand over the leg.

“Can he walk? We can take him to the healer in the city. They should be able to tell us how Titus will fair.” When he was certain the leg was not damaged to the point of internal injury, Damian slowly stood and looked down at Titus.

“Come, Titus,” he commanded, walking toward the city walls where they had come from. He didn’t glance back to see if the dog would follow and waved for Jon and Ser Jason to join him. It was a few paces before the sound of paws hitting packed dirt sounded and the dog was slipping between his and Ser Jason’s legs.

“I’m not sure who will want to murder me more when we come home with Titus; your mother or grandfather,” Ser Jason joked as they made their way back to the city.

“Not the king?”

“Oh no, Your Highness,” Ser Jason said seriously. “No, King Richard would murder me if I denied his son something he so clearly wants. Especially an innocent something.” Damian pursed his lips to keep from beaming at the idea of his father approving of his actions just now. He ignored the concern that wanted to bubble up with the thought that his mother was going to have a few choice words about it. He wasn’t going to think about it now. Not when he knew he would have his father in his corner.

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

“Honestly, Titus,” Damian sighed as the dog panted at the window of the carriage. Just three weeks after having found him and the dog had gone from skin and bone to healthy and growing quite quickly. King Clark had warned them that the breed was one that grew quite large, but Damian had waved it off and welcomed the thought.

He wasn’t sure how Titus had come to be at that spot the day they found him, but Damian refused to believe it was anything other than fate.

Ser Jason reached over and scratched at the dog’s ears before settling back in his seat. “He knows home when he sees it. We are almost there. Are you happy to be returning?” Damian considered the question as he stared out the window Titus was still sticking his nose out of, watching the trees rush past them.

“I have missed most aspects of home,” he settled on. Though he loved Ser Jason as a father and knew he could trust him, he struggled to admit that he was not looking forward to being under his mother’s thumb once again. Queen Lois had been such a breath of fresh air. To see the way a mother could love her child, it had left Damian wanting something he knew would never be his. And though his father and Ser Jason loved him as parents should, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was missing out on something without the love of a mother.

“It is okay to be sad to be returning home, Little Prince,” Ser Jason spoke softly and Damian’s gaze dropped to his lap before looking over at the older man. His eyes were earnest and caring, but understanding as well. “I do not know what goes through the minds of others, but I do know your father understands much of what you’re dealing with.”

“But not completely.”

“No, perhaps not completely since Queen Talia was gone well before your father was your age, but from what I recall, she might have been more rigid than Catalina.” Damian didn’t know if that was possible, in all honestly, but he nodded anyway. He knew stories of the late queen and knew she was not who his grandfather had thought she was. His second wife, Selina, had not been very motherly but she was kind and she was loving. His father said he had found a friend and confidante in the former queen and it had been exactly what he had needed.

“We’re here,” Damian chose to say instead of acknowledging the conversation any more, looking out the window and seeing the approaching city walls. They were finally home and he found himself getting nervous as to what would happen upon the revelation of Titus. “You won’t let them take him?”

His green eyes looked into Ser Jason’s turquoise ones and the other man nodded. “They will have to take me down before I allow you to be parted from Titus. You have my word on that, My Prince.” Damian saw the truth in his eyes and nodded. “Besides, I already wrote to your father weeks ago and told him about the pup. His reply came a few days before we left and spoke of his excitement to meet the newest Wayne.” Damian felt a smile spread on his face as he jumped forward and gave Ser Jason a hug in thanks.

“The Prince has returned!” Damian pulled away at the shouts from the crowd and leaned closer to the windows to see citizens starting to line the streets at their passing. He could hear various shouts of his name and greetings and it made a warm feeling settle in his chest.

“You should lean out and wave,” Ser Jason instructed. Nodding, Damian did just that and was rewarded with more cheers and calls of his name. “The people already love you. You do not realize how much of your father you have in you. His influence is an overwhelming presence.”

That was the kind of praise that could be considered dangerous when spoken around the wrong people, but with just him and Ser Jason in the carriage, Damian let the pride swell in his chest. To be compared to his father and come out favorably, what more could he ask for? His father was the best man he knew, the best man any of them knew, and he could only be so lucky to be loved like he was.

Settling back into the carriage as they breached the gates of the castle, Damian smiled at Ser Jason before smoothing his cloaks. “Thank you, Ser Jason,” he said carefully. “Thank you for accompanying me on this trip. I know that I wouldn’t have been allowed otherwise, so thank you.” The older man just gazed at him with a warm expression and gave a small nod. It said more than words could.

When the carriage came to a stop, there was no waiting for formalities and Ser Jason opened the door so he could step out. Damian followed and turned to make sure Titus was able to get out without struggle.

“Dami! Jason!” His father called as he rushed forward and embraced both of them, Damian first for appearances sakes, and then Ser Jason. “We have missed you both. And this must be Titus! Your letter did not exaggerate his size,” the man laughed, kneeling to get level with the dog who now sat next to Damian’s feet panting. “He’s a fine-looking animal, Damian. And obedient already?”

“Yes, Father,” he agreed. “King Clark showed me how to train him. We still have some things to learn, but he knows the basics and will behave himself.” Damian snuck a glance toward where his mother stood at the top of the stairs with a scowl.

His father laughed when Titus leaned forward and licked at his face before standing and wiping away the dog drool. “Yes, well behaved indeed,” he teased, causing Damian and Ser Jason to laugh with him. “I asked the staff to have the necessary items placed in your rooms, but you let them know if there is something they missed. I do believe you are more than old enough for this responsibility.”

“Thank you, Father,” Damian smiled, pushing forward to hug the king around his middle before heading toward where his mother was still waiting. “Come, Titus.” He called the dog as he walked, prompting the animal to trot next to him as he walked up the steps and came to stand in front of his mother. “Hello, Mother,” he greeted. He noticed her eyes narrowed on Titus before glancing at Damian.

“What is this?”

“His name is Titus. We found him hurt and King Clark gave him to me to care for.” The scowl on her face deepened and Damian felt his heart sink. He had been hoping for a better reaction, even if he had known it wouldn’t actually happen. He had still hoped.

“You do not need the distraction. Give him to a staff member to find him a new home.”

“But- “

“You misstep, My Queen,” his father’s smooth voice sounded from behind Damian. Turning to look at the man who had his hard gaze on his mother, Damian held back his relief at his appearance. A glance at Ser Jason, who stood a few feet back, told him he had nothing to worry about. “I have already told him he may keep Titus. The arrangements have already been made. He is apparently a well behaved animal and it is a good responsibility to learn.”

The silence from his mother said a lot and Damian wondered if this was going to be a problem down the road.

“Why don’t you take Titus out to the fields, Son? I’m sure he would be happy to run around before dinner tonight.” Nodding his head, he clicked his tongue and hurried away from the three adults as quickly as he could to avoid being more of a problem. He also didn’t want to hear yet another argument between his parents regarding him specifically.

Those happened frequently enough as it was.

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

Glancing over to his left, Damian attempted to catch Ser Jason’s line of sight for a moment without much success. He wasn’t sure what it was he thought he would figure out from the man, but anything would be better than the glaringly empty seats where his father and mother usually sat.

But none of the others at the table seemed to be interested in addressing the matter, given the conversation floating around from the other occupants of the table.

His grandfather had been in deep conversation with Ser Jason and his Aunt Cassandra since the moment their plates had been delivered. He could hear words like weapons, forgers, and arsenal every once in a while, so he knew it was probably about the latest weapons that the soldiers had been training with. He could hear his grandmother talking softly with his Aunt’s good friend, Stephanie, who had been his nurse when he had been a baby but was now basically a member of the family. He couldn’t make out anything from their conversation, but it didn’t matter.

All he wanted to know was where his parents were and why they had started without the king.

He was about to ask whoever was willing to listen when a loud bang sounded from outside the room and had the entire table startling. To the point that Ser Jason was on his feet, palming a dagger at his thigh and Titus had come to stand next to Damian’s chair, lips pulled back in a snarl.

Slipping his hand into the dog’s collar to keep him from running toward whatever had startled them all, Damian watched Ser Jason stalk toward the door and press an ear to the wood. Whatever he heard had his shoulders draining of tension and him putting the dagger away.

“Ser Todd,” his grandfather called out, pushing to his feet, but the Slayer waved a hand. Quickly, he tugged both doors open and revealed the two missing family members. The pair stood toe to toe and Damian wanted to shrink away from the look in his mother’s eyes.

He knew that look. This was about him.

But while his mother continued to look like she could spit fire, Damian watched his father slip back into the easy calm he always wore when people were around. Even if it was just family, he would never allow them to glimpse into his personal difficulties.

“Your Majesties,” Ser Jason greeted, tone flat. Damian saw his mother turn the gaze onto the other man and open her mouth, but she was unsurprisingly cut off by his father.

“Enough, Catalina!” It was the most forceful Damian had ever heard his father be. It wasn’t like he was a stranger to his parents fighting and he knew it had been happening more and more since he had returned from his visit with Jon in Metropolis, but his father had always seemed so collected when he did see it. “If you have more to say then we will discuss it later. You have already made your point quite clear and I have given you my answer.”

His mother jerked back as if she had been slapped and Damian wondered if that’s essentially what his father had just done with is words. Just like he had, his mother had probably expected him to keep the venom out of his voice as he always did. But he hadn’t. The King’s voice had been dripping in it.

“This is not over. I will not have my will ignored,” she growled out before turning on her heel and rushing away. And though Damian wanted to know what exactly had been going on, he was more focused on his father rubbing at his forehead as Ser Jason whispered something to him. There was a moment of tense silence between them before his father sighed and nodded.

The pair exchanged a few more hushed words before they entered the dining hall and took their seats. Damian kept his eyes on his father and tried to see if he could get any answers, but he had a feeling it would be the same as always.

And the smile he finally got from his father once he was fully settled and had his plate set before him told him he wasn’t wrong. But his instincts told him he would personally pay for whatever it was that had happened between his parents.

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

In hindsight, Damian knew he should have expected backlash from his mother on the subject, but he hadn’t really thought about it. If he were completely honest, it hadn’t even crossed his mind when he had started the exchange of letters with Prince Jon of Kent. After he had stayed in Gotham when his brother and Damian’s uncle had come on formal business, the pair had just formed an easy friendship. And the time he had spent in Metropolis with the royal family under the guise of visiting his uncle had only served to strengthen the friendship.

Damian had been jealous at the easy view of the world the older prince had and had wanted to absorb that ideal. The same ideal that his father tried to instill in him, but his mother fought hard to extinguish.

“What are these?” A stack of papers fell in front of him as he worked on his lessons for the day and with barely a glance, Damian picked out Jon’s familiar script. “Explain yourself.”

Looking up at his mother with a frown, Damian watched her closely. “They are an exchange of letter with the Heir Apparent of Metropolis.” His father had been thrilled when he had learned that Damian and Jon had formed such a strong friendship. He had encouraged it and even gone as far as to offer to write to King Clark and the two boys might spend a few weeks each summer living in the other’s kingdom.

“They stop now.” And though he would regret it, Damian reacted.

“But Mother, he is my friend!” He shot to his feet and looked at her desperately. “Why should I not write to him? He will be King of Metropolis one day and this fosters good political bonds.” He knew it was a good argument but the look on her face told him she didn’t appreciate it.

“You are friends with people who can help you further our kingdom. We are already in good relations with the Kingdom of Metropolis and that makes this friendship frivolous and juvenile.” His mother glared at him and though Damian wanted to stand his ground, he shrunk a little under the weight of her stare. “You are friends with who I say you can be friends with.”

“May I write to him one last time to explain?”

“No,” her voice was cold, and Damian hated it. “And if you know what is good for you, you will not let your Father hear of this. Honestly, Damian,” she sighed, grabbing the stack of letters and heading toward the lit fireplace. His heart dropped to his stomach and it took everything within him to keep from rushing forward to grab the letters. “I am doing this for you. To make you better. To make you stronger. To make you more than your father will ever be.”

He watched sadly as she tossed the letters into the fire with a flick of her wrist and brush her hands down her skirts. The papers fed the fire immediately, burning bright for a matter of seconds before simmering back down to its original state. As if they had never been there to begin with. As if they had been nothing but a dream he had once had.

Dropping back down into his chair, he turned his eyes back to the texts in front of him and sighed.

“You will be the most brilliant king this kingdom has every had the pleasure of witnessing. And in order to do that, you must be strong. You must rule with your head and not just your heart,” his mother spoke, her tone much more even now that she had accomplished her task. A tone he heard on a daily basis and knew much more than any other. “Your grandfather ruled only with his head. Your father only with his heart. You will be better.”

But Damian wasn’t sure he wanted to be better than either of them. He wanted to be loved like his father was. He wanted to walk the streets of Bristol and have citizens call out to him just to say hello and see how he is. He wanted to welcome other kingdoms into his own and break bread with them by fireside with a mug of mulled wine.

More than that though, he wanted love. Not the love he got from his father or the distinctive love he got from his mother. No, he wanted the love he saw between his father and Ser Jason. Or his uncle and Duke Kon. Love that was built upon years of friendship. And maybe Jon had not been that love, but he had at least been a friend.

“Do you understand, my son?”

“Yes, Mother,” he agreed softly. Glancing back to the fire one last time, he picked up his quill and went back to his studies as his mother took her place in the chair by the window.

#jaydick #damian wayne #jason todd #dick grayson #jondami #damijon #jon kent #clark kent #tim drake #kon el #timkon #lois lane #catalina flores #past lives au #anikah writes

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theavengerfairy · 3 years ago

Text

One Step Closer - Chapter 6

Previously known as “Gravity”

He had a lot on his mind. It wasn't his expression that gave Callum away; rather, it was his lack thereof. His warm glow had not once wavered in the face of adversity since Anora met him, but now as they walked along with the moon as their guide, her watchful eye observed it flickering dangerously, violent gusts of restless thoughts threatening to snuff out the light at its source. When he believed no wandering gazes were upon him, the young prince would risk a glance at Rayla, first at her face and then at the pocket in which the coin was tucked safely away. Whenever his attention shifted to the latter, fragments of icy bitterness crystallized in his eyes where warm kindness and tender concern had dwelled not much earlier. Between his somber aura and the way he trudged forward with his back bent and his shoulders stooped, one might assume the weight of the world rested upon him, and it was a sight that Anora, for one, could not stand.

"It isn't much farther. We should have the element of surprise, but it would be best not to take any chances. Callum, come up here with me, would you? I know you're inexperienced, but you are our best offense against another mage so we need you front and center. Rayla, bring up the rear please and keep alert for any surprises from behind. Maddie-"

"Yeah yeah, I'm in the middle with the baby dragon." Maddie cut in with an offhanded wave, her other hand already scrounging through her bag in search of her wristbow.

Rayla's nose wrinkled and her lips puckered ever so slightly as she stared hard at Anora, obviously not convinced the rather out-of-the-blue request was what it appeared to be on the surface. Nevertheless, she receded to the back of the group without protest, blades already drawn and hanging at her sides in wait. Meanwhile Callum hurried forward, his head sinking even lower between his shoulders, and fell into stride with Anora, his face averted as though he could hide from her what she had already seen.

"Something's troubling you, Callum."

Callum's fingers picked nervously at the strap of his backpack. "I'm worried about Ez."

"That's not all though, now is it?"

Were all Oceancry elves this insanely perceptive or was he just that terrible at being subtle? It didn't truly matter either way; however it had happened, Callum was caught. Compelled by guilt, he began to crane his neck to check on Rayla yet again, but she had hardly manifested as an abstract blur in his peripheral before Anora beckoned his attention back to her with a crisp yet kindly staccato.

"Ah ah ah, not a good idea; she's still trying to decide whether or not I'm up to something. You flash those big, telltale green eyes at her and we're both done for."

Callum knew she was right of course; it was honestly a miracle Rayla hadn't figured him out already. A cluttered, jumbled mind was a luxury he could not afford; he needed to have his wits about him should their encounter with Castel go south. And yet, no matter how hard he struggled to seize hold of just one of the many intertwining threads of his thoughts, the strand would swiftly slip from his grasp again and rejoin its brethren as they continued to weave and knot themselves into an even tighter, more complicated tangle.

If not for Rayla's vigilant watch, Anora's hand, which twitched at her side, would've clasped Callum reassuringly by the shoulder in an instant. For now, however, she only hoped the extra softness with which she coated her voice proved capable of conveying the sincerity of her compassion, "You don't have to talk to me if you don't want to, Callum, but I would like to help somehow if I can."

He wanted to say something, to release into the open the festering bitterness that had slithered its way into his core when he wasn't looking and to allow the fresh air to cleanse away any gunk that lingered behind. To do so now, however, meant Anora witnessing that exorcism firsthand, and to expect anything less than her recoiling from him in response was preposterous. Was he to suffer in silence for the preservation of his pride or was he to expunge the darkness before it could fully take root, even at the cost of unpleasant potential consequences that might follow?

With a deep breath, the brisk, purifying night air filled his heavy, aching lungs, and when he exhaled, the pent-up words and feelings all came tumbling forth.

"Runaan isn't just someone dear to Rayla. He's an assassin, an assassin who still killed my stepdad and planned to kill my brother after seeing for himself that the egg of the Dragon Prince was safe. Calling off the mission would've meant some risk for him and his team, I get that, but he didn't even consider it. And what about Ez? Even if I could somehow look past everything that murderer has done, it isn't fair for me to expect the same from him; he's just a kid. And how do we know that Runaan won't just pick up where he left off and try to harm him again if he gets free? We don't! I can't put Ez in that kind of danger! When we found the coin earlier and I said I would help, I was thinking about Rayla and nothing else, but now...I don't want to hurt her, and I know I'm a horrible person for saying this, but would it really be so awful for him not to get out?"

His heart and lips stung raw. It was out, the toxic smog that had been corroding his heart and soul, and now all he could do was wait with apprehension's bony fingers already coiling around his throat before he could get another breath in. Why had he thought that this was a good idea?

"You're not a horrible person, Callum; just a real one who has endured a great deal of hardship and loss. You've had your world flipped upside down and that is bound to leave you with questions and frustrations and doubts. You cannot hate yourself for that."

"I still have to make a choice though, and that decision is going to affect more people than just me!"

"But your voice matters too." Anora's hands had found their way into one another's grip, hanging in front of her at waist level and squeezing each other tightly to keep them both locked in place as they could not be trusted to ignore the pleadings of her heart to seize the boy and wrap him in the hug he so desperately needed and deserved. "There is nothing wrong in asking 'What about me?' What about you, Callum?"

What about him? He was angry, hurt, grieving. He was torn between loyalties to different people who he all loved deeply and didn't want to hurt. As a prince, he had been taught from a young age to strive for noble character, but his heart yearned so strongly to be selfish just this once that it physically ached. He longed to live like the child he was once again, to have someone else make the hard choices while he carried on in the ignorant bliss of youth. It wasn't fair; it was all so much, too much.

Callum's eyes fixated on a stone sitting idly directly in his path, and before he could give it much thought, he swiftly drove his foot into it with considerable force. Unfortunately, the rock proved to be larger than it appeared and also securely nestled in the ground, so instead of taking flight, it sent an acute pain rippling throughout the prince's foot as he stumbled a little.

"That...was really stupid." he groaned, concealing his flushed face behind one of his open palms. "Why did I just do that?"

"Well, one of you was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. The question is whether it was you or the rock."

Anora's quip wasn't even that funny, but it proved just enough to return a smile to Callum's lips for a fleeting moment. Even when it vanished, Callum's frown wasn't quite as deep or pronounced as it had been before; it was a small improvement but an improvement nonetheless.

"Runaan staying in the coin won't bring my stepdad back, but to just let him go…" Callum wrapped his arms around himself, "My mind's all over the place. How am I supposed to do this? How am I supposed to figure out the best choice to make when at least one person I care about is always going to wind up hurt no matter what I decide?"

"Well, perhaps that's why you're stuck; you're trying to process everything all at once and it's overwhelming you." Anora mused as her eyes drifted up to the moon which peered down at them through gaps in the leafy canopy above their heads. "There are moments when it is best to look at the big picture, and then there are moments where one must focus on a single part of an issue...What can you tell me about Runaan?"

Callum blinked at her, somewhat taken aback by the seemingly sudden shift of attention. "What good is talking about him going to do?"

"Runaan is but a single piece at play, yet much of your turmoil ties back to him in some way, yes? While it may not bring you all the answers you seek, understanding him better might just grant you some clarity and closure that can aid your decision-making." Noticing a low-hanging branch that was about to smack Callum square in the face, Anora held it aside until he had passed and then let it fall back into place with a soft rustle. "You've already named him your stepfather's assassin as well as someone of significance to Rayla; what else can you figure out about him?"

"I don't know. I only encountered him once, and all he did was refuse to hear us out before fighting Rayla while she covered my brother and I's retreat with the egg. What else is there to say about him except that he is cruel and arrogant and close-minded?"

To Callum's surprise, Anora said nothing, but as he swiveled his head to look at her, a jolt shot through him when he found her staring him down, her lips curled into a little smirk and her brows arched ever so slightly. Her eyes reflected not condemnation but rather a blend of mild amusement and skepticism. She was calling bull on his shallow analysis, and what made the matter worse is that she knew that they both knew that she was right. If Callum truly saw things through so narrow a lens, the last place he would be was here, traveling with a party of elves and humans on a quest to return an abducted dragonling home even after all the pain the residents of Xadia and the human kingdoms had caused one another. He understood that the world and those who lived in it were not so superficial, and she was not going to let him get away with pretending otherwise.

He didn't want to think back to that night, his skin crawling and his throat constricting at the mere notion of it. Even so, he lifted his face towards the sky above with a sigh and allowed his mind to wander back, back the many miles they had come, back to the palace wall where those turquoise eyes had judged him as vermin without a second thought. However, the harsh gaze, that stern face, had slackened for an instant when Runaan first beheld the egg with his own eyes. Ever so briefly, the man beneath the warrior had been visible before being buried again, and as Callum studied those same eyes and remembered how that fierce voice had quivered as Rayla pleaded with Runaan once more, his breath caught in his throat.

"What is it, Callum?" Anora purred, her voice little more than a whisper as not to shatter the boy's delicate focus.

"He did hesitate actually; it wasn't for long but he did. I think...I think he was torn about what to do."

"Like you are now?" Anora let the question hang in the air for a moment before continuing, "Callum, do you think he might have been a bit afraid?"

"Afraid? But he's…" Callum stopped, his argument already crumbling apart on his tongue.

"What would he have to fear, Callum?" Anora prodded further, her head tilting slightly to one side as she waited patiently for him to mull everything over.

"He...he was the leader. He made the calls for the group. If he ordered something that was too risky and something bad happened, it would fall back on him-"

"What would fall back on him?"

"The responsibility and...and the guilt." Callum's expression suddenly soured again. "But how could he think that working together to bring Zym home was riskier than attacking a king with a palace full of soldiers who knew they were coming?"

"Perhaps it is not a question of greater risk but of unfamiliar risk. Runaan and the other assassins already understood and accepted the dangers of their mission. To abandon their original task in favor of working with humans to bring the Dragon Prince home would mean taking on new risks, some known but many unknown. If it had been only his well-being at stake, maybe he would have acted differently, but as the leader, he had to consider the welfare of the others also. I'm not saying that I completely agree with his choice, but I do understand it."

"I'm still not sure I do." Callum dragged his fingers rather roughly through his hair then let his arm drop limply back down to his side again. "Rayla knew the risks and cared about the other assassins too. How come she was still willing to take a chance and he wasn't?"

"Hope comes easier when one is young. When you live many years in a world that has been one way for a long time, it is easy to lose sight of how things could be and surrender oneself to what they are now. Like most, Runaan's perspective has been shaped by the longstanding bitterness between humans and Xadians, a resentment which neither side has been willing to try and lay to rest."

"You're not like that though."

Anora's gaze dropped to the ground, her kind features now marred by a rueful smile. "I wish that were true, but I fall short of such ideal virtue as well."

Callum made a face. "But you saved Maddie, even though she was a human…"

"You're right, and I have learned to trust a handful of other humans as well. That hardly means it comes naturally though. The me that you see now is the result of continuous effort on my part to grow despite my own deep-rooted fears and assumptions, and even now, after much hard work, some of those aversions have managed to endure."

"Is there really any chance of humans and elves ever truly reconciling then? I mean, you're one of the most open-minded elves I've met, so if you're still struggling that much, will Runaan or others like him ever be able to see things differently?" Callum's body felt very heavy all of a sudden, as though some phantom of the night had stolen past them and sapped his strength without him noticing until now. His stomach had also begun to ache like it did after he failed to block an attack from Soren during practice and received a wooden sword to the gut with a painful smack.

"Yes, I am a work in progress, young prince, but that in itself is proof of hope and the potential for change living on. I still struggle, yet because I have found not only hope but proof that affirms that hope, I press onward without fail."

"So Runaan needs proof that not all humans are bad? Proof other than the Dragon Prince being alive and well and two human princes being willing to return him home in hopes of preventing a war?"

Anora gave a small laugh. "Some of us are more stubborn than others."

"So how do I figure out what might convince Runaan to give humans a chance?"

"Perhaps Rayla could give you some ideas once you feel ready to talk to her about this."

"You two wrapping up with your juicy gossip? Because I think we're here, unless there's some other giant lake in this general direction with enough magical energy to make the cube thingy light up super bright like it is right now?"

Anora and Callum both felt their hearts perform a nosedive into their stomachs as they whipped their heads around to find Rayla standing not so far behind them, Zym atop her shoulder and crooning as she scratched the underside of his chin. Peering around the elf, Anora shot Maddie a pointed look from where she was lurking at least a yard behind the rest of the group and only received an apologetic smile paired with a nervous shrug from the redhead in response.

Positioning herself between Anora and Callum, Rayla wordlessly glanced from Callum's face to his satchel and then back again. Her expression was hard for him to read, appearing both impassive and irritated at the same time, and while Callum wanted to ask her just how much of their conversation she had heard, his mouth remained shut.

"I know you already gave me an answer but I'm going to ask you one more time: are you sure about this? That cube is something your father wanted you to have; we can search for some other magical artifact to trade with Castel."

Callum's gaze fell to his satchel just as his hand was reaching inside to retrieve the mysterious key, which was indeed glowing so brightly that its light was shining clean through the fabric. Drawing it out, he couldn't help but notice the comfortable warmth radiating from it along with a low, rather calming hum while it pulsed in his palm, and though the glow somewhat hurt his eyes, he just stared at it for awhile, his face distant while the heat mimicked the embrace of those strong but gentle arms he so missed as it crept its way throughout the rest of his body. Ever so briefly, his grip on the cube tightened, but it eventually went lax again.

"There isn't time to look for another artifact. This is what we have to do."

Circling around so she was directly in front of Callum, Anora slowly laid her hand on the cube. Once more, the prince's fingers latched firmly onto the tiny box, but eventually he permitted her to gradually slip it free from his grasp.

"I'm the only one here who is familiar with Castel's tricks, so I'll negotiate with him. It would be best for you three to wait up here-Wait, let me finish, Rayla-so he can't gain any more leverage than he already has by getting his grubby hands on you too. Maddie, do you have a hairpin on you?"

"What if something goes wrong while you're down there? How are we supposed to know so we can help?" Rayla protested as Anora carefully traced a rune onto her skin near the base of her neck before accepting the hairpin Madeleine offered to her. When she said nothing, merely offering her a morose look that left a dreary heaviness hanging over the group, the message was clear enough: were something to go wrong, there would be no helping her or Ezran. That would be it.

After brushing her bangs out of her eyes and securing them into place, Anora marched into the lake, only stopping to glance back at her companions who were crowding along the shore when the water had reached her waist. Despite her own thundering heart, she stood up a little straighter and flashed them a reassuring smile before diving beneath the surface, allowing the water to swallow her up.

#tdp #tdp fanfic #tdp fanfiction #THE DRAGON PRINCE #tdp oc #oc fanfic #oc fanfiction #runaan #runaan tdp #tdp runaan #original species oc #alternate timeline #alternate timeline fanfic #runaan x oc #oc x canon #canon x oc

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pokegeek151 · 4 years ago

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By popular demand, what if Orion was well written part 2/??

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Orion was settling into a more comfortable position in his chair, seemingly oblivious to Holly’s nervous energy across from him. Argon, somewhat desperate to talk to Artemis after he’d missed over a month of sessions in favor of letting Orion handle them, had agreed to step out at the young man’s request. The doctor decided that leaving him alone for this exercise was a bad idea, though, so Holly was called in to babysit.

“I don’t think I’m qualified to do this,” she said.

“You’ll be fine, love,” Orion said with what he hoped was reassuring confidence. “Though you know I adore being around you, your presence is mostly a formality.” As he spoke, he placed his hands facedown on his legs, allowed his limbs to relax into the gel-supported cushioning, and let his eyes fall closed. “Expect to be bored.”

“If you say so,” she said. As Orion’s motions stilled, Holly spoke up again. “How long do you think it will take?”

“Difficult to say. If Artemis is agreeable, only a couple minutes.” He opened one eye and grinned. “Though Artemis being agreeable is not something I would place money on if you’re not in the habit of losing.”

Holly grinned as well and allowed Orion to begin his meditation. Despite herself, she leaned forward curiously. Though she had of course induced a few switches herself, they were all violent and came after long periods of electroshock-induced unconsciousness. She had never seen them do a voluntary switch.

Orion spent a few minutes focusing on his breathing and observing his body in physical space. Artemis had taken up mediation and mindfulness as a hobby years ago, and that knowledge had sunk into Orion’s consciousness, as well. Eventually, the world around him slipped away and the light of Artemis’ mind office became visible in the distance. At this realization, the image of legs formed beneath him, and he walked towards it. By the time he arrived at the office, Orion was fully formed in the mind space.

“Artemis, can I come in?” he asked, though it was unnecessary. The mind is a funny thing; though Orion as the conscious alter had to focus on the arrival into the office, to Artemis, he simply appeared already inside. Orion was nothing but a gentleman, though, and he always asked for an invitation into what he considered Artemis’ space.

“Of course,” Artemis answered. His desk had changed since Orion had last visited; there were stacks of paper and what appeared to be a rudimentary circuit board and other electrical materials arranged atop it. Of course, rudimentary was relative, and the board on the desk was actually quite advanced on an objective level, but Orion knew that it was practically a child’s toy to Artemis.

“What’s that?” Orion asked, genuinely curious. He had never seen anything like it in the mind office.

“I’ve been doing experiments,” Artemis replied. He stepped aside and allowed Orion to examine the device. “It’s quite a simple circuit board, but I have perfect knowledge of its construction and properties.” He reached over and pressed a button on the board, and the device buzzed to life. “It took quite a bit of mental effort and focus, but I have actually created a working piece of electronic equipment in my own mind.”

“Astounding,” Orion said, awestruck. It was incomprehensibly impressive. “A perfect recreation of a physical object.”

“I knew you’d have a proper appreciation within the mind space,” Artemis said. While together like this, the edges of their personalities started to blur and mix. They were still separate, but perhaps not as distinct as when one of them was fronting. Some of Artemis’ intelligence and scientific awareness bled over.

Orion nodded, though something about the discovery bothered him. “But why?” he asked, gingerly placing the device back onto the desk.

“I have no intention of spending the rest of my life simply watching you pilot my body,” he said. “So I came up with something to do. I plan to experiment with oil paints next, then move on to something more complicated. My goal is to be able to invent from within here and run accurate tests on new discoveries.” He sounded genuinely excited, his willingness to show emotion enhanced by Orion’s presence.

Orion wasn’t sure how to react. A certain detail Artemis had mentioned was making it hard for him to get as excited as his alter. “That is…very impressive, Artemis,” he said. He hesitated, trying to phrase his concern delicately, then decided not to beat around the bush. “Do you really expect to spend your whole life in here?”

Artemis, who had started to fiddle with the circuit board, paused. “Well, I suppose not,” he said noncommittally.

Orion stepped around him, partially blocking his view of the desk. “You can’t stay in here forever, Artemis.”

Artemis stepped back, away from Orion. “And why not? Who are you to dictate my life?”

“It’s my life, too,” he said, taking a half step closer to Artemis, who moved away the same amount. “And there are people out there waiting for you.”

“People whom I will push away once I lose myself to the disease.” There was a rising anger in Artemis. Orion could feel it.

“People who will stand by your side while you recover,” he countered. This wasn’t how he wanted the conversation to go.

“When I’m outside, I am not the person they know. I cannot control my own thoughts.”

“They know that, and they love you.”

“And what do you know of that?” It was Artemis’ turn to move forward and Orion’s to retreat. “They tolerate you, at best, and you know that.”

“You’re wrong, Artemis.”

Artemis continued his approach, forcing Orion towards the view wall inch by inch. “Am I? You are delusional; the world to you is a storybook.”

“That’s not fair, I’ve been getting better—“

“You have no respect for Holly’s personal boundaries. She is disgusted by you.”

“That’s not true. I’m learning, and she—“

Artemis stopped as Orion’s back was about to touch the gel of the wall. “And worst of all, you are trying to replace me, and they know that.”

Orion planted his feet and met his alter in the eye. “I’m not trying to replace you. You’re stressed, and your paranoia has infected your haven. Allow yourself to calm down, and you will see you are thinking illogically.”

Artemis also planted his feet. “Get out of my head,” he said, and pushed Orion into the view wall.

Artemis, ever unathletic, had telegraphed his action, so Orion wasn’t surprised when he was shoved, but he allowed it to happen anyway. He knew that Artemis was too agitated to be reasoned with at the moment, a once rare, nearly impossible occurrence that was happening more and more frequently as Artemis continued to lock himself inside his mind. Orion thought perhaps that allowing Artemis to shove him might offer some cathartic relief, at the very least.

The gel fizzled on his skin, though the golden fours that made the substance buzz with electricity ignored him. Because he was allowing himself to resurface, the wall gave him almost no resistance.

In the real world, his body jolted in the chair. Holly rushed to support him immediately, placing a hand on his shoulder to help keep him upright.

“Artemis? Are you alright?”

“I am fine, princess, though the fair prince remains trapped within his accursed tower.” Ah, there was the fairy tale, right on schedule. The stress was exacerbating his delusions. “I fear a witch has hexed him. Perhaps we can brew a potion to negate the enchantment.”

Holly frowned but didn’t contradict him. “I take it Artemis wasn’t feeling agreeable?”

Orion rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. “No. He pushed me out. Literally.” He was exhausted from the ordeal. Entering the mind space with Artemis was not itself a tiring activity, but the mental energy he expended in their fight, as well as the rather ungraceful exit, had drained him.

“What happened?” she asked, shifting from sitting on her heels to kneeling beside his chair.

“He’s inventing,” Orion said. “He built a circuit board.”

“Hunkering down,” Holly realized. “He’s in it for the long haul.”

“Indeed. He got angry at me. He yelled at me, forced me out. As I told the good Doctor, he’s scared. He fears you’ll reject him, princess.”

Holly looked almost offended. “I wouldn’t dare,” she said.

Orion smiled sadly. “I know. I told him as much, but he was beyond reason.” Holly opened her mouth to question, clearly confused by the very notion, but Orion explained before she could ask. “Within the mind space, our characteristics…mix, a bit. Though I am made from that which he had repressed, when the two parts are put together, we begin to combine. There is no risk,” he added quickly, seeing concern flash across her features. “Just a bit of blurring at the edges.”

Holly looked around the room, giving her eyes something to do while she processed all of this. “If asking nicely won’t work, we’ll have to come up with something more aggressive,” she decided. “He can’t just stay in there forever.”

Orion nodded. “We will save him from the dragons that plague him.” He tried to shift his posture to evoke the stance of a knight, but he only held it for a moment before the exhaustion hit him again and he tilted forward into Holly, who had moved to catch him before he even realized he was falling. The chair was comfortable, but he had no desire to sleep in it. “Though perhaps we should return to the castle first. I would appreciate some time to recover before we begin our quest.” Holly helped him stand, and after an uncertain moment, Orion gained his balance.

In the hall, Argon was pacing, waiting for the pair to finish. He turned excitedly when the door finally opened.

“Artemis? Holly? How did it go?” he asked, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“Orion is exhausted,” Holly said bitterly. She wanted Artemis to spend some time outside his own head as much as the next person, but Argon’s blatant disregard for Orion was insulting. “Session’s ending early.” Without waiting for approval, she led Orion down the hall.

Argon scurried after them. “But there’s still nearly half an hour left!” he cried.

“Session’s over, doc,” Holly called over her shoulder. Even with an exhausted Mud Boy in tow, they were able to easily outpace the squat doctor.

Butler was waiting for them outside the clinic. There was nowhere inside for him to comfortably wait, though Foaly had said something about an oversized chair being put on order. He glanced at the door on habit as it opened, checking for security, but he did a double-take when he realized Holly and his charge leaving the building half an hour ahead of schedule.

“Is everything alright?” he asked as the pair approached.

“Argon is letting him go early, today,” Holly said in a tone that told Butler it was likely not Dr. Argon’s decision.

“And why is that?” he asked casually, falling into step with them as they headed towards the nearest shuttle station. If Holly had forced Argon to end the session, Butler was willing to trust it was for a good reason.

“Because Artemis is stubborn as a hungry troll,” she answered.

“He had no interest in making an appearance,” Orion added, confirming his identity for Butler.

Butler had, of course, known about the plan for today’s session, and he’d been quietly hoping Artemis would finally come back to them. Artemis and his alter looked a lot alike when tired, and Butler hadn’t been certain who was fronting. He must have let some of his disappointment show based on the way Orion’s features tightened, though the young man didn’t comment. Butler instantly felt guilty, though he also said nothing. He hadn’t meant to hurt Orion, but Artemis was still his priority.

“I see,” was all the man offered.

The trek to the shuttle station was uneventful, though the group got more stares than usual. The regular commuters through this part of Haven had gotten used to seeing the massive Mud Man in this time of day, but the half hour difference was enough to mix up the crowd.

The shuttle ride was similarly uneventful; the one shuttle large enough to carry Butler had been co-opted by the LEP and served as private transport for the humans 3 days a week, so there was no need to wait for a ride or concern themselves with citizens being in their way. Orion dozed lightly during the ride, his head against Butler’s arm. He looked peaceful. As peaceful as Artemis did in his sleep, Butler noted.

Orion roused himself as the shuttle landed, though he fell asleep on Holly’s shoulder once they were in the Bentley. She nudged him awake once they arrived at the Manor.

“That really took a lot out of you,” she said as he unfolded himself from the car.

“More than expected,” he said. “I think I am sad,” he added, “for sadness is a tiring emotion.”

“What’s making you sad?” Holly asked. She had heard enough about his therapy sessions to pick up on some things. He still struggled with identifying his emotions at times, and encouraging him to explore what he was feeling helped with that.

“Artemis.” He held his hand out in front of him and turned it over and back, studying the surface and the way his fingers moved. “He is in anguish.”

Holly nodded. “I’m sad about that, too. And frustrated.” Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, and she forced herself to uncurl them.

Orion nodded. “You can’t punch your way through this.”

“As much as I want to,” she agreed.

The sessions with Argon were at the beginning of the day in Haven, but fairies being nocturnal creatures meant that it was dark above ground when they were done. There were footlights along the paths on the estate, but to minimize light pollution, they were on specialized motion sensors that were fine-tuned enough to differentiate between wild animals and humans (and fairies, of course). As such, the world around them was a shroud of gloom for a few seconds until the lights clicked on, giving everything a unique, almost unsettling glow from below. On hard, tiresome days like today, the unnatural underside lighting seemed mystical in a way Orion was growing better and better at determining to be part of his delusions. This was something he knew, and at Argon’s suggestion, he used this knowledge to practice grounding techniques after sessions.

Today was no exception. As much as he would love to go straight inside and collapse into bed, practice and consistency were important, so he took a few minutes to breathe deeply and take inventory of his senses and his thoughts. Holly and Butler both waited for him, silently exchanging slightly worried expressions. They knew what he was doing, but his mental health was still a concern, especially after a particularly trying therapy session. And of course, they were always thinking about Artemis. They had both returned their expressions to neutral by the time Orion was done, though, and the trio finally escaped the cool, humid night air so Orion could get some much needed rest.

#my writing #writing #artemis fowl #orion fowl #af fanfic #before anyone says it i am intentionally viewing atlantic complex as a separate condition that manifests symptoms similar to did #so this is not accurate to the experiences of people with did #though i have researched did and i ask my friend with it many questions as they come up #continue to validate meeeee #i am needy and subsist on comments #what if orion was well written

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iggy-of-fans · 5 years ago

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Of Being a Ladybug 1.5

Happy Holiday’s! Here is my gift to you!

Previous Masterlist

The class, Then

Monday of the attack

Adrien smiled, satisfied that Marinette hadn’t done anything. He shook his head, ‘really, what could she have done?’ he asked himself. Marinette was a great girl and had designed for or worked with a few famous people, but he doubted that they even remembered a lowly baker’s daughter. He sure didn’t remember most of his fans. He shrugged. Alya really should have just fact checked. Probably an over-zealous fan that sent it to one of the actors mentioned. Marinette also wouldn’t do anything that could hurt Alya. He got to the class and stopped short at the door. There were a lot of long faces in there.

Alya was sobbing into Nino’s shoulder.

Rose was quietly heaving into Juleka’s shoulder as well. Not so much sobbing, but still very upset.

Max sat tense, glaring at his phone, looking like he might set it on fire.

Kim glared ahead at the bored.

Mylene, for once, looked stronger than all the class and like she might punch somebody.

Adrien was confused. As far as he knew or remembered, only Alya had a real reason to be this upset. He frowned.

“Nino? What’s going on? Why is everyone so upset?” Adrien asked, completely lacking the social understanding to perhaps ask someone else. Who wasn’t holding their+

3 crying girlfriend. Nino just glared at him.

It was Alix who answered, “Seriously Adrien? Read the fucking mood. And to answer your question, Lila Fucking Rossi.”

“I don’t understand. What did Lila do?” Adrien asked, passing over the first comment. He just wanted answers.

“Marinette was right. Like always, she was right. Lila is a liar, and a bad liar at that. We were idiots and all fell for it. Rose lost her friendship with Prince Ali because she bought Lila’s tales. Alya is being sued for slander. Mylene and Ivan contributed to her “go green” projects, only for none of them to be legit. Max is being investigated by the school for letting Kim cheat off him and Kim got kicked off the team for it. Then the school NERD club got wind of the napkin incident and apparently even Superman and Wonder Woman can’t throw a napkin hard enough to take out somebody’s eye. And me? I was told I would be meeting pro skater Esmee Visser. We should have listened to Marinette” Alix shook her head. Mari had warned them. Warned them not to cheat, not to listen to Lila, to work their own way up. Marinette always worked so hard but made it all look so easy.

The whole class bowed their heads. Mylene had ended her friendship with Marinette on Tuesday the week before, because Marinette had suggested that she and Ivan not give their combined 400 Euros to Lila’s charity. This morning, Mylene had seen the news coverage of over fifteen people suing Lila Rossi and by extension, Alya Cesaire, for slander, defamation and theft. Lila had been going around getting things put onto tabs for famous people to pay off, claiming she was a niece, goddaughter or assistant.

They waited for Marinette or Lila to come into the class. Marinette so they could apologize. Lila so they could beat her up. When the warning bell rang, and Ms. Bustier entered the room, nobody even batted an eye. When the last bell rang, and Marinette still wasn’t there, they worried. When the sound of a car being tossed through a building reached their ears, the students evacuated.

Alya rushed to the scene. The Ladyblog may be shut down, but she could start fresh. Maybe Ladybug would even call on Rena Rouge! When she got to the scene, Vipereon was hidden on a building with… was that… a new fox? Alya almost started crying again. Another hero made her way there. A new bee, it looked like. And another, a new turtle too. When Ladybug arrived with the dragon, the team huddled for a minute before breaking apart to fight. Alya snuck closer as she watched Guilty Conscience coming at the heroes.

“I never wanted to be a hero. I feel horrible when I have to lie to protect my identity because I hate liars. I wish I had never met the Master or been picked to be Ladybug or had managed to give the Miraculous away before I got too serious. I hate what this has turned me into, I wish I could go back to just being Marinette…”

Alya gasped. Oh! OH! She shut off her video and turned. She’d wanted to earn back her title as a journalist. But not like this. She ran back to her apartment. Not like this.

As Tuesday morning dawned, the class was sitting together again. Adrien kept looking at the door expectantly. If Chat Noir payed a visit to the bakery last night, no body would know. Namely because nobody was there. Adrien’s foot bounced. The minute she walked through the door; he would confess to her.

Nino looked sideways at Adrien. He knew his boy was a bit starstruck with Ladybug. Did he really expect her to come to school, though? Nobody seemed to notice that Juleka was also missing.

Class started, only to be interrupted again when the principle announced all classes should turn on their TVs to the news.

“Good Morning Paris. We interrupt your scheduled programming to bring you breaking news,” on the screen was Lois Lane, world renowned reporter. “This morning, the Mayor of Paris was able to welcome for the first time, Justice League Members Batman and Wonder Woman, to Paris. Already, the world’s greatest detective is solving the matter of ‘who is Hawkmoth?’ and ‘where is he hiding?’. The investigation was started early this morning and is still ongoing now, however, the heroes are confident the matter will be resolved by end of day today. League intervention is also being given to the local Parisian heroes, who are being folded into the League system. The now dubbed Miracle Team will be receiving regular training and adult supervision from the American Heroes. On other news… One moment please. We are now going live to the traffic copter, which has caught sight of Wonder Woman storming a mansion in the heart of Paris. Jean, what can you tell us about the current situation?”

“Thank you, Lois! I am here, on scene as Wonder Woman storms the Agreste Mansion. Parisian’s will remember that Monsier Agreste was Akumatized as the Collector a few months ago. He certainly isn’t putting up any fight, it looks like. And there is Nathalie Sancour. Both are coming out with their hands up. It looks like Monsiour Agreste is doing all the talking. Ms. Sancour is going down in what appears to be a coughing fit! Police is also arriving on the scene. An arrest has been made. I repeat. An arrest has been made! A police car is pulling off, and looks to be heading to Francois-Dupont, commonly dubbed the Akuma school. If I am not mistaken, it is the same school that Gabriel Agreste’s only son, Adrien Agreste attends! AH, one moment. It looks like Wonder Woman is going into the mansion. Paramedics are also pulling up on scene. Ms. Sancour is being taken into an ambulance, but the other set of paramedics is running into the mansion as well. Is that?! It is! Lois, and watchers, for those of you who do not know, this is Emilie Agreste, the wife of Gabriel and mother of Adrien. She went missing and was declared dead three years ago. Paramedics are now rushing her prone body to the ambulance…”

The news continued, but the class was distracted by the door being thrust open. Officer Raincomprix and his partner entered.

“Adrien Agreste, you are under arrest for suspicion on working with Hawkmoth. You have the right to remain silent. Everything you say can and will be used against you” the officer stated, placing the cuffs on a stunned Adrien Agreste. His mouth hung open. What…? And then he heard the whispers.

“He was supposed to start school the day of the first Akuma…”

“Always defending the bully…”

“Never there during attacks…”

He shook his head mutely. NO! He was a hero!

The class watched mutely. Two in two days.

*!!*

Because he was a minor and could prove, behind closed doors, that he was in fact Chat Noir, Adrien was acquitted and sent to live with his Aunt Amilie and Cousin Felix Graham de Vanily. He took off the Miraculous ring. Plagg had told him Ladybug would need her cat. So, he put the ring in the mail to be sent off to Wilhelm with a letter explaining everything. He heard through the news that the Dupain-Cheng family had left Paris in a rush. Nobody was quite sure where they went, though most guessed to China. When he landed in London, Adrien had no idea what to expect. He hadn’t seen Felix since his mother’s funeral. He had also heard that Felix’s father had died not long ago. Felix and Amilie greeted him at the airport with smiles. He smiled and dared to hope.

*!!*

Alya watched the footage of Marinette revealing herself again. She sighed. Adrien Agreste was publicly deemed innocent and sent away. Lila Rossi, while facing several lawsuits, was only being sent to a remedial school at the outskirts of Paris. Lila’s mother, who had been akumatized as Guilty Conscience, almost lost her job. As it was now, diplomatic immunity was the only thing keeping her from being investigated further for child neglect. Alya was still facing the law herself, but being a minor, she was only facing some fines and heavy warnings, but otherwise she was also grounded until she was eighteen. Her parents were disappointed, her sisters avoided her most of the time. School had become her only escape. But even there was no escape from everything that had happened. Marinette was no longer there, and Ms. Bustier was under investigation for the amount of Akumatizations in her class. Mr. Damoclese was as well, for mismanaged funding to the school. Turns out his Owl suit and “weapons” were being funded from donations to the school. The class was split up into different classes too. Divide and conquer. Alya sighed. They weren’t really allowed to interact with each other, for fear of it causing more trouble. But most of the other students didn’t want to interact with them either. Alya had never noticed it, but their class was isolated by the rest of the school.

*!!*

Luka sighed as he watched Marinette walk into the Zeta Tube, her head bowed. Paris had ruined Marinette. He brushed his hair back and looked at Juleka. The news had confirmed that Gabriel Agreste was Hawkmoth, but he had given his Miraculous to Nathalie to get rid of. They were pawned off to another party, but Gabriel had no idea who, and Nathalie went under and into a coma like Mrs. Agreste.

The League told them that they would be receiving training and supervision, as there were Miraculous everywhere now. They would be needed to step in. Luka being the oldest was made the leader, despite not having the ladybug miraculous. He sighed. What a shit show.

< ( ^ ^ ) >

Bruce closed the journal and replaced it in the secret compartment in the desk. He turned to the bed behind him, where his newest ward was fast asleep, tear tracks staining her young face. He wanted to rage at Diana and Clark. He’d petitioned to have Marinette live with him from the beginning, but had been denied because Diana’s mother had been a Ladybug. Reading about what Diana had done to the poor girl, all with good intentions but completely misguided, Bruce was ready to wage war. Marinette had been through emotional hell. He would make sure to do better by her. He swore then that he would give her a family.

#of being a ladybug #Marinette #Marinette deserves better #miraculous ladybug #batman #Wonder Woman #alya cesaire #adrien agreste #lila rossi #lila salt

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banalbones · 4 years ago

Text

The Petite Prince: Chapter 4

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, 7, 8

Chapter 4: The Treasure Hunt, Part 1

Summary: Roman is a child. Virgil and Logan lost him, and are on a quest to find him. Meanwhile, Remus loves his baby bro.

Words: 1920

Ships: Familial prinxiety, logince and Creativitwins. Eventual familial royality, roceit and DRLAMP

Genre: Fluff with a side dose of angst

Warnings: swears, falling, arguing, creepy little gnomes, tell me if there’s any more!

Taglist: @pricklyfish777 @sunflowerblondeuwu @itriedandimtired @draw-your-perfect-world

_____________________________

“Virgil?”

“Yea- oh no…”

“Exactly.”

_____________________________

Logan knew many idiots.

Roman, for one, when he was not a child. Patton, Remus, Thomas and even Virgil, from time to time, were on it.

Logan never knew he could be included on that list, but there he was.

He and Virgil had checked every room in the mindpalace, even Janus’s, but searching for a small child you can’t help but love, whilst simultaneously panicking because you had lost said child, makes you forget certain things.

Remus being certain things.

The pair had somehow managed to forget about the one person (or metaphysical person) who would willingly cause the angelic young prince harm.

The one person!

How does that even happen? How could one overlook something so dire?

Meaning, the resident nerd was in a bad state.

Virgil was in an even worse state.

Logan picked up the small paper crown, being careful not to tear it, and looked to the anxious side.

He really didn’t look great.

_____________________________

He looked horrible, actually.

Hey! It wasn’t that bad!

It was.

_____________________________

Virgil really didn’t look great.

Or feel great, for that matter.

They had lost the bean, which was bad enough, he had already been panicking about that, but, losing the bean to Remus?

AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Thoughts were such a beautiful insight to one’s character.

The emo looked to where Logan stood, then to the deep depths of the Dark Imagination.

He had already been to the ‘Light’ Imagination, with its singing birds (annoying) and its lush forestry (also annoying), but the Dark Imagination was still a mystery.

It was comprised of living trees, dead trees, semi-dead trees and any other things that Remus could have thought up.

Meaning, Virgil was terrified to go.

But, he (and Logan) would do what had to be done to save the bean.

_____________________________

Why do you keep calling him ‘the bean’?

‘Cause that’s what I was calling him in my head the whole time.

Aww, cute!

Shut up.

_____________________________

As the left brain boys mentally prepared themselves to go into the hidden depths of the forest of the Dark Imagination, the two brothers (you can’t exactly call them twins at the moment) were having the time of their life.

In Remus’s room, of course.

Remus had seen his fellow sides enter the Imagination, and came up with a brilliant plan.

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

“Hey RoRo, do you wanna prank LoLo and Virgey?”

“Wha d’you have in mi- have in min- in mind?”

“How about we make them go on a little treasure hunt?”

“Yeah!”

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

The smol one hadn’t been hard to convince. He also didn’t know that he was the treasure, which was kinda funny actually, seeing as he kept asking what it was.

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

“Wha’s the trea- the treasure?”

“You’ll have to wait and see.”

“But I don’ wanna…”

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

So, while Logan and Virgil panicked about the paper crown, Roman and Remus created a devious little ‘treasure hunt’.

“Can they figh’ a dra- a dragon?” The miniature royal asked.

Remus looked to the map of the Dark Imagination he had laid out on the table.

“Sure.” He grinned. “Armor and weapons or no?”

Roman giggled.

“With!”

Damnit.

Remus suppressed a groan.

“Whatever you say, little prince.”

_____________________________

The forest was dark and creepy and honestly kind of disturbing.

Virgil shuddered as he caught sight of one of the flying eyes that were following them.He tried to keep his eyes in front of him.

He was failing, but it’s the thought that counts.

“There’s a tower, maybe a mile away.” Logan muttered.

“That’s probably where he’s keeping Roman,”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

A pause.

“I though you didn’t have that one.”

“I now do.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“No, you can’t, you can hear it.”

“Same difference!”

“That doesn’t even make sen-oh shit!”

Oh shit?

Virgil looked over to Logan.

Wait, where was he?

“Loga-AhHhHhHhHhH!”

_____________________________

Ow. That was unpleasant.

Logan stood up.

Or attempted to stand up.

“Ow!”

Why was this place so small? And dark? He was already blind, for crying out loud. Also, where was Virgil?

…

“AhHhHhHhH!”

…

There, apparently.

“Don’t stand up.”

“What the fu-ow!”

He sighed.

That was what happened when one didn’t follow his instruction.

“I know that sigh. Logan?”

“Yes. It is me, Virgil.”

“You could have warned me about the ceiling.”

“I did.”

“And the hole.”

“I literally fell through it before you. How could I possibly have warned you?”

“By screaming ‘hole’ instead of ‘oh shit’.”

“Well-”

“HeLlO bOyS!” A voice screeched from somewhere in the darkness.

Virgil screamed and grabbed Logan’s arm.

Ow. Why do I keep getting hurt?

“I hAvE a RiDdLe FoR yOu!”

Virgil tightened his grip, causing Logan to wince.

“What is it?” he questioned.

Might as well.

There was a sound of a throat being cleared.

“WhAt Is SmAlL aNd CuTe, LoVeD wHeN yOuNg BuT nOt WhEn OlD? AnSwEr CoRrEcTlY aNd DoN’t GeT eAtEn By GnOmEs!”

The voice then laughed (or screeched, depending on how nice you are) and disappeared.

For a moment there was silence.

Then,

“What?”

_____________________________

Remus and Roman cackled as they viewed what was happening through the fly-eyes. The treasure hunt was going as perfectly as planned.

(Apart from the two getting hurt, Roman had frowned at Remus for that, causing Remus to pout back. The exchange had ended in giggles.)

“Hey ReeRee?”

“Yeah?”

“I wan’ my cro- I wan’ my crown back.”

Remus turned his head to view the three year old.

_____________________________

He actually looked four at this point.

How come?

He was getting happier, so he was getting older.

Oh.

_____________________________

“Do you want a new one?”

“No.”

“Do you want some cuddles instead?”

“Maybe… but my- but my cr- cr-crown…”

Remus saw the smol one’s lip start wobbling, and oh god if it wasn’t the most heartbreaking thing (apart from hammers).

“Do you want Virgey and LoLo to bring it back?”

And then, as if by magic, Roman adorable little grin returned. He lunged forward, hugging Remus’s long, skinny legs.

“Yeah!”

Remus inwardly let out a sigh of relief. He loved his little brother with all of his (admittedly, shrivelled) heart, but he wasn’t prepared to deal with tears.

“Do you still want cuddles?”

“Duuuuh!”

_____________________________

“A toy?”

The screechy laugh returned.

“YoU iDiOtS! tHe AnSwEr WaS rOmAn! GoOd LuCk WiTh ThE gNoMeS!”

Virgil, for a moment just sat there, shocked.

Roman?

The moment lasted for approximately 0.6 seconds as the sound of footsteps filled the hole.

Many, many footsteps.

Virgil swallowed, his breathing quickening, as Logan scooched closer to him.

Then music started playing.

Virgil took a breath.

Do it for the bean.

_____________________________

“Holy mother of hell.”

That had been terrifying. Even for Logic himself.

He had screamed. So had Virgil. And so they decided they would never speak of the incident ever again.

Logan took a few deep breaths as he regarded his and Virgil’s attire.

His tie was ripped, along with his shirt, and Virgil’s jeans were more than a little worse for wear.

Getting away from the gnomes had been easier one would think, simply crawling through the hole they (he shuddered) had come from allowed them to escape.

It had led the pair to a cave in which they were able to stand.

Thank Einstein, I hate crawling.

“So, now what?” Virgil’s voice echoed throughout the cave.

Logan stepped forward.

Do it for the child.

“We walk.”

_____________________________

Roman, after a healthy dose of ReeRee cuddles, started to feel curious.

There was so much stuff in Remus’s room, after all, and though his ankle still kinda hurt, he still reeeeeally wanted to poke it all.

Possibly with a stick.

“BroBro, stick?” he asked, missing the way Remus’s face filled with joy at being called ‘BroBro’.

“On the way, your highness.”

Roman like the nicknames. Big him never really got all these nice ones.

After being handed the stick by a grinning Remus, the petite prince took a stool (Or what seemed most like a stool) and started calmly climbing the shelves, poking at the stuff in the jars if it was colorful enough to catch his eye.

Remus, on the other hand, was laying on the floor, hands on his heart.

BroBro.

It was so. Pure.

The young prince would perhaps heal his blackened soul.

The Duke was so distracted by the purity of his baby brother that he didn’t even try to dodge the glob of purple luminescent slime.

He blinked.

And heard a snort of barely muffled laughter.

“I’ve been betrayed,” the trash man said dramatically, “By my own brother, no less!”

More giggles were escaping.

“And I am now… dead.”

Remus let his head flop, hitting the floor with a small crack.

After a few seconds, he felt a small finger poke at his cheek (How had that kid managed to get down so fast?) and a voice.

“ReeRee?”

“Ahhh!”

Remus jumped up to lift his little prince into the air, spinning him around and around and around.

Roman squealed and laughed, his little legs kicking the air.

The cutest boy, change my mind.

_____________________________

Virgil and Logan walked. And walked. And walked.

“Are we there yet?”

Logan deigned not to respond. Virgil had already asked seven times. In the past five minutes.

“Are we?”

His voice was higher this time.

Logan groaned.

“No.”

_____________________________

“Hey L, I see a light! At the end of the tunnel! Freedom!”

Virgil had been panicking (shocking) for the past twenty five minutes.

Logan had been getting increasingly irritated for the past twenty five minutes.

Virgil didn’t know why.

(He definitely knew why.)

“I see it, Virgil.”

“But do you really?”

“Yes.”

…

“Mind if I join your conversation?”

Virgil jumped at the lilting voice.

“I’ll do it anyway. Hello fellow travellers.”

“Who the heck are you?”

A small flame jumped out of the darkness, illuminating a figure with delicate features and large wings.

Wings?

“Why, I’m the Dragon Witch of course! Care for some bones?”

“I thought Roman killed you.” Logan remarked.

“He did. That’s why I’m here. Who else could sell bones but the dead? Speaking of,” the witch smirked, “You should buy some.”

“Why?”

The smirk grew.

“Why not?”

____________________________

And so, the left brain boys bought a few bones, in exchange for a shoe each, before going on there way.

The Dragon Witch smiled as she slunk back into the shadows.

Remus would be pleased.

____________________________

Remus was most definitely pleased.

Two more shoes for the collection!

“Hey RoBro, look! It’s Virgey’s shoe! And Logan’s!”

“Shoes!”

“Shoes.” He nodded.

Roman was playing with a few birds that had followed him from the Imagination. And the squirrels. And the deer. And all of the other forest creatures.

The smol one truly was a prince.

I wonder if they have names.

_____________________________

Roman was enjoying playing with the creatures, especially Elphaba.

Her emerald green feathers shone brightly in the golden light of… something. He didn’t know what, as Remus’s room didn’t have many lights, lest not gold-ish ones.

Suddenly, a thought popped into his mind.

“Hey ReeRee?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think if I si- you think if I sing, the birdies will- the birdies will too?”

Big him always did that. It seemed fun.

ReeRee looked a bit confused.

“Li-li-li-”

Roman got stuck on the word. They were the worst sometimes!

“Big me!”

Remus seemed to catch on.

“Like big you does?”

Roman nodded aggressively. Yes! Maybe Big Bro would sing with him! That would be so fun!

_____________________________

As Virgil finally stepped out into the light, relishing the sweet, sweet sunlight, a bunch of birds appeared and started tweeting out… a song?

Well that was odd.

“Hey Logan?”

“What.”

“Is that the tower you mentioned seeing earlier?”

Because standing in front of them at fifty feet tall, was a tower.

And on top of that tower, was a dragon.

Fuck.

_____________________________

Thanks for reading this chapter of the Petite Prince!

I’m going to introduce Patton and Janus soon, so which one do you want to see first?

#sanders sides #thomas sanders sides #tss #roman sanders #baby roman #ts roman #remus sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #i hc ro as a disney princess #but a prince #feedback is appreciated

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koukouture · 4 years ago

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Frostbite and Burn scars Chapter 4: Trust and Traitors

Kaeya didn't seem all too thrilled about being home. Which was odd since a prideful fool like him should have felt right at home here in the city of bastards. But, he seemed to avoid eye contact with Dainsleif or any locals that greeted him. He supposed that coming home after years to a position like this where no one was really honest with him, he'd be on edge at the very least. The walls had eyes here in Khaenri'ah, eh? Perhaps the same was true even for the crown prince.

"Be honest, you're impressed, aren't you?" Kaeya teased when they entered.

Diluc huffed and ignored him, looking around at the palace they walked through. It was a maze, it had to at least be the size of the most elevated point in Mondstadt. The cathedral, the knights of Favonious HQ, and the giant statue of Barbatos could all probably fit on the palace grounds. They passed courtyards with ponds and lush green grass, hanging terrace gardens that were tended to by servants. This, this was royalty. The true extent of it.

"I can't blame you" Kaeya said with a smug tone, flinging up the coin he always seemed to carry on him.

"Prince Kaeya" Dainsleif interrupted the prince before he could get another smug remark out "You will have duties to attend to soon enough, organizing the funeral and your coronation, for example. So, I suggest that you rest for now"

Kaeya paused and looked to Diluc for a moment "Of course. Come now, Dainsleif, catch me up while we walk, you there" Kaeya said to a passing servant girl "Give my... friend here a room and something more appropriate to wear, maybe a small meal will also be in order"

And with that, the blue haired man and his associate were off, leaning Diluc to follow the servant girl. "Right this way...?"

"Diluc"

"Master Diluc, then"

She lead him through the winding palace, up flights of stairs and pass more gardens and such. There seemed to be a great number of gardens here, all of them seemed to hang off the ledges and grow into lower terraces. It was beautiful, Diluc had never seen anything like it. The variety of plants was truly something to behold, he'd wager that Khaenri'ah could compare to Sumeru's gardens and bountiful lifestyle.

The servant girl noticed him marveling at the gardens "No gods blessed us with these gardens, they are a testament to the power of man. No magic, no blessings or divine luck, just the will of humans" she explained, pride in her voice. She probably helped tend to the gardens.

"I can see that. Man does not need god to be great, it seems"

"In the city of the god of freedom, I wonder, what are you told to believe in?"

Diluc frowned, he believed in the gods just fine, but he did not worship or pray to him like most others did. Barbatos was a bit absent, unlike Rex Lapis who ruled Liyue and made several cameos throughout history. But, he did believe that man was capable of doing things on their own, but, to this extent? Godless and yet still prospering, with a bountiful harvest and hanging gardens in a separate plane of existence where the laws of the universe could be completely rewritten? This was surprising.

"Monsdtadt is the city of freedom, thusly, we are taught not to rely too much on our god. But we are still taught to pay our respects to him"

Dilcu had always respected Barbatos, but after he found out that his god liked to take the form of a little drunken bard, he was starting to loose a little faith. Venti, the fragile, snarky, poetic (not to mention alcoholic) bard was the same one as Barbatos, the god that reformed entire landscaped, blew winds strong enough to make a mountain crumble and bow, the god that befriended the fearsome dragon? The world never stopped throwing surprised at Diluc, did it?

"Here in Khaenri'ah, we are taught to believe in philosophy and science rather than gods" she looked at Diluc "There are rumors' that there are people within the seven nations who posses the blessing of the gods. Visions and magic. Is that true?"

Diluc took off his glove and let a flame ignite in his palm "True as you and I"

The girl marveled at the little flame, watching intently as it danced around Diluc's hand. To think that these people had never experienced magic was almost sad. Magic was everything, Diluc remembered when he received his vision, how warm it was. It comforted him, gave him strength. The fire almost spoke to him, assuring him with wit it's help, he could protect his home. Even if it was a burden, even if it was a curse, at least it was with Diluc through this cruel world. At least he could save someone.

"Well enough ogling" she said, standing back up and taking a few steps foreword "Here's your room, Master Dilc"

Diluc's breath hitched as he walked into the room, it was large and spacious, silk drapes covered large arching windows, and a luxurious bed sat elevated in the middle of the room. It was more luxurious than his mansion, this room had to at least be half the size of the Mondstadt cathedral.

"If you don't mind me asking, Master Diluc, how do you know prince Kaeya?"

"I met him when we were younger. I assumed he was just some poor orphan not... a prince" Diluc still wasn't quite over the whole "the bastard is apparently a prince" thing. Kaeya didn't act remotely like royalty. But, he wouldn't be surprised if he was fed lies and taught to lie as a child. A godless city certainly wouldn't be above abuse and carving their future onto children forcibly.

"So, you two are friends, then?"

Diluc clenched his fists. At one time, they were, but, he wasn't sure he could call Kaeya that now. "Yes, in a way"

"I will be taking my leave then, please rest, Master Diluc, I will find something for you to wear"

He missed the moment she bowed and left, shutting the doors behind her. He didn't even get her name. He hated it when servants were treated like dirt and not given a proper name or treatment, just treated as disposable. And with how large this palace was, he wouldn't be surprised if no one knew her name.

Diluc sighed and sat down on the bed, it was so soft, he sank into the silk covers, relishing their soft luxurious feeling. It felt like sitting on a cloud. It had been an eventful day, Diluc supposed he might as well take a short nap.

"So, that man, he is a Ragnvindr, is he not?"

Kaeya sighed and rubbed his temple "I had hoped it'd take you a little longer to find out" he said, looking up at his blonde servant.

"Please, my prince, do you think of me as unwise? Stupid, even?"

The blue haired man chuckled "No, no, no. I just, didn't think you wouldn't be too well informed with my little mission"

"I'm wounded, my prince"

Kaeya waved his hand at the royal attendant "Alright, alright, now what do you want with my little brother, Dainslief?"

Trust no one, that was the first rule of Khaenri'ah. Trust no one especially your father's closest advisor should be second. Despite Dainsleif being very kind to Kaeya for most of his childhood and even now after coming home, he still didn't completely trust that man.

"What could I gain from him? Prince Kaeya, you know very well that Khaenri'ah's fate does not concern me as much as it does others. That being said, I suggest you be careful handling him around other people. He will have plenty of enemies here"

Kaeya didn't look back up at the blonde. Suspicion was second nature to the people here, and no matter how long Kaeya had been away, no matter what some people might say about him, he could never trust as easily and freely.

"You are dismissed, Dainslief" Kaeya said, resting his chin on his palm "I need some time to think... by myself"

Dainslief never seemed to smile, not genuinely from what Kaeya could tell. Perfect and composed, never a hair out of place, always watching from the shadows, ever observant and cunning. That was Dainslief. No time for smiles, no time for happiness. Even though his lips quirked upwards, Kaeya could tell that it was simply a smirk. For what he did not know, but it was not out of happiness or anything with harmless intent.

The servant clicked his tongue and a raven flew down from one of the rafters. He knew it. Dainslief and his father had often used ravens to keep tabs on people, a Kaeya remembered that clearly, the many nights he spent awake petrified of falling into a deep, dreamless void called sleep, he remembered the shadow of a bird at his window.

"Very good my prince, it seems that you are still observant as ever" he said, smoothing out the sleek black shadow's feathers. The bird made a clicking sound and leaned into gloved fingers.

"I should be saying that to you. Now leave me be, and call out anymore little helpers of yours"

Dainslief sighed "I mean no ill intent, my prince. It is just for your safety"

Kaeya frowned, but he kept it small and refined enough for it to go unnoticed by the masked man. Yes, his safety. Prince or not, there was no one who cared for Kaeya like that. Not Diluc, not Dainslief, not Jean or Lisa, not even his own father.

"Yes, yes, now leave. I'm sure you have other people to 'keep safe' under that bird's wretched eyes" he bit sarcastically.

Dainslief bowed and exited the room, leaving Kaeya to his thoughts. Even to the citizens of Khaenri'ah, Dainslief was a mystery. What his purpose was, what his motives are, no one is sure of.

Kaeya sighed and looked up. Khaenri'ah, the city of the dreamless. What did they have to yearn for? A god? Respect? Power? The answer could be anything. They were as wise and accomplished as Sumeru, as prosperous as Liyue, they had the military might of Natlan, so what were they missing? What was their place among the stars?

No. Right now, he had to focus on one question; who was to be trusted, and who is the traitor?

#genshin impact #kaeya #diluc #kaeya genshin impact #diluc genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin impact fanfic

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fiction-in-my-blood · 4 years ago

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Obey Me! Brothers x MC’s Job HC

So this is a headcannon based on each brother’s MC having a job or experience in a field that would be somewhat benefit to them the most in work and play ;). Ya girl just wants to feel useful TT

Warnings: The SLIGHTEST reference of NSFW in some of the HCs

~~~~~~

Lucifer:

Okay, maybe an elementry school teacher wouldn’t directly help Big Brother Lucifer the most, especially when you were just out of supervised training, but you sure as hell can help keep some of his more troublesome problems at bay.

Having to deal with overexcitable, emotionally unstable, and honestly frequently hyped-up-on-sugar children just out of infancy has given you a backbone, not to meant a glare that’s strong enough to stop everyone still, but not scare.

Unless you wanted it to.

Not to mention that voice.

The range of your vocal cords could be heard even by Diavolo in his castle.

You needed it, dealing with crying children and sometimes parents who thought their child couldn’t possibly bully the girl they ‘crushed’ on when you had seen it with your own eyes.

And even after grabbing everyone’s attention in a room full of strong personalities, you’re more than capable of turning it down a bit to explain what the issue is.

“Levi, you can’t chop off Mammon’s hands to stop him from stealing your things.”

“Don’t you laugh, Mammon! You’re not off the hook just yet. Give Levi his figurine back before I put Goldie in the microwave, hm?”

“Asmodeus, you can’t go around stealing my underwear! What would your mother think of this?”

“Beelzebub, you can’t eat other people’s food without asking. How would you feel if I went along and ate all your blackbelly newt legs and your monkey brain pudding?”

“Mammon, this is your last warning. Put the money back where you found it.”

“Belphegor, you need to stop sleeping on the floor. Mamo keeps tripping over you and I don’t think we can afford any more screaming in this house.”

“Mammon! Do I need to send you to the quiet corner again?”

“Satan, clean up your books or they’re going back on the shelf out of order.”

Your use of their full names definitely felt like their were being reprimanded by a teacher.

Even if you sometimes treat the younger brothers like children, which will often cause a few snickers, you can’t really help it when they act the way they do.

Sometimes you get a little too carried away, on instinct threatening to cancel the end of year pizza party unless they start behaving, but Lucifer appreciates your attempts to restrain them all the same while chuckling along with everyone else.

You may act before you think, but you’ve brought his family closer together.

Mamo:

Being a professional pocker player would be just too easy.

That’s why it’s your weekend gig.

Besides from your backers and frequent trips to pocker tournements, you spent your nights, and sometimes at day parties, as a mixologist.

It may not seem like much, but bartending has helped you nuture a skill to read people and help them talk out their problems.

Which is the only reason Mamo hasn’t been thrown into the fiery pits of hell when a revengeful witch comes knocking every now and then.

You hear out his fraud victim’s troubles and show your understanding, wondering in the back of your head why, in Diavolo’s great Devildom, Mammon would agree to give away some of Satan’s incantations for a credit card that looked similar to Goldie?!

You manage to talk her out of taking his liver as payment and agree to help mix some potions you recently learnt at school, being a mixologist has helped in that regard as well.

A few times you’ve had to play some other demons in a game of cards in order to get Mammon back home safely.

It was only when you beat Soloman that Mamo first noticed your professional-grade talent.

You didn’t really want him knowing, you knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself but use you to his advantage, so you first said that it was a natural skill humans had- which no one believed and only made them all curious.

Eventually, you gave in to Mamo’s pestering and it was then you said you weren’t going to give him money.

At first, he was a little offended you’d think he would use you like that, but, for once, he listened to everyone’s harsh words and understood why you had that idea.

He was the Avatar of Greed, after all.

Ever since, he’s been working hard to show you he would never use you again.

Unless it was a life or death scenario with that one witch he conned a dragon’s egg from.

Levi:

It was impressive when you picked up Ancient Languages so quickly, but the otaku didn’t question it, at that time he didn’t have that much interest in you.

Then you were able to annunciate those words better than Satan or Lucifer or Diavolo, but maybe you were a quick learner?

It was only when you nonchalantly offered him the latest, unreleased, series of a longer-than-necessary-anime-title did Levi think to ask.

You were a translator in the human world.

Had more interest in the words than the story, but that was enough for him to start treating you less of a normie and more of a fellow recluse like him.

It didn’t take long after that when he realised you were THE MC.

The MC who had translated most of the anime he watched, even though he didn’t need to read subs, you were stil famous, and not only for translating.

You had dabbled in voice acting, mainly due to one conference call you had where the client asked you to voice for a minor character that would only be in for a few episodes of TSL.

It was a disasterous when the character died, having been quite a noble and vicious knight to the Lord of Shadow- who, of which, the lord also liked.

You weren’t going to tell him the character was booted off because you weren’t comfortable voice acting anymore.

However, he will have you read aloud lines he had found on a certain website where many like-minded fans wrote their own stories about the characters.

Lucifer caught the skript-like paper when he saw the word ‘master’ printed next to a less than savoury subject the eldest brother would not allow you to be tricked into saying.

Levi wasn’t too happy about that, ranting and raving how it was unfair and he needed to hear the Shadow Knight confess to the Lord of Shadow the way the fandom, and most of all, he, deserved.

You may have little clue what the animes your translating are about, but you never again reject the offer to have one of your own, walking to Levi’s room the second it reaches you in the mail and you spend practically all night binging on every word you wrote for him.

Satan:

When you first came to Devildom, you were particularly overly-curious.

Maybe it was because you were in a knew place, surrounded by beings you once thought only existed in stories?

Maybe you had that same respect for knowledge as Satan did?

Well, it would be easy to think that if it weren’t for the types of questions you asked each of the brothers, as well as the angels, Soloman, Barbatos and even the Prince of Devildom himself.

“What do you like to do on your days off?”

“Are you a tits or ass guy?”

“What’s your relationship like with your family?”

“Do you like men, women, or a bit of both?”

Every demon, witch, angel and whoever you met at RAD had the pleasure of being interrogated by you, your gracious smile and genuine concern for their answer coaxing them to tell you more than they would think to like.

When you wrote in that little journal, stock full of flyaway papers, the victim of your inquisitive nature would worry, for some reason, what you thought of them.

Still, you never let anyone look, not until you had the perfect match for the client.

A matchmaker, that’s what you were in the human world.

You paired couples, looking for marriage or a short term thing, with their perfect better half.

And you had been struggling to pair Satan with anyone.

“You have no interest in either of the sexes. How am I meant to find a girl for you when all you care about are dusty old books?” You muttered dismissively, speaking directly at the pages of your book, the two-page profile you had on Satan spread across the fine lined sheets.

You had been so enraptured in you quest for love that you didn’t notice the warmth looming over you.

“Who’s dusty old books?” The familiar teasing whisper graced your ear, way too close for comfort.

You turned, slamming the journal shut, but it was too late.

He had discovered your plan.

You quickly explained that you were a matchmaker back home and it was hard to hold back.

Even when you were with your human friends, you got carried away, pairing them with nice guys you met in the bar when you went on your weekly girl’s night.

Satan laughed at first, who couldn’t find their own mate?

Until he realised you couldn’t find anyone for him.

You’ve never seen him combust into flames so quickly.

You would be scared if you weren’t so annoyed.

“This is exactly my point! No one will want to be with you if you get this angry all the time!” You pouted, not realising the brothers that had run in at the drop of the proverbial hat, frozen in the doorway as they watched you, a human, talking smack to a demonic Satan.

They had come to save you once they heard him roaring in anger, but you seemed to be coping just fine on your own.

It took both of you a few weeks to realise, the reason you couldn’t find him anyone is because you wanted him.

Asmo:

You and Asmodeus had surprisingly philosophical conversations when you had only just met.

You would answer his teasing comments with very deep and personal questions, asking about his past relationships and how it made him feel to flirt with everyone he laid eyes on.

You had caught him off-guard a few times with your out of left-field inquiries.

One time, after you asked about any childhood trauma he may have had that could lead to his sexual nature, he actually got a little angry, losing his cool and throwing your question right back in your face.

He usually seemed to enjoy the strange back and forth, so you watched him devole into his demon-form with a startled gaze.

“I-I’m sorry, Asmo, I shouldn’t have asked that. Force of habit.”

You were blunt, distant and sometimes rude with your short questions, but when you told him those questions were something you were so familiar with they were a large part of your vocabularly, he had to know.

“How could that possibly be a habit?”

You were a relationships councillor.

You spent your days with arguing couples, coworkers who just couldn’t get along, and the odd friendship that had been torn apart thanks to one sleeping with the other’s partner.

You weren’t used to dealing with overly-friendly cilents, most would be crying about how sorry they were or silent with stubbonness, so you wanted to put that professional gap between the two of you.

But you never intended to hurt him or rehash memories you had no right to know.

“I’m meant to help people, but I can’t even treat the people I care about right.”

Before you had arrived in Devildom, you were pretty much a loner.

You were ambitious, pretty much a recluse outside of work, mainly because anyone you talked to would also get your brain shrinking questions.

“No human likes being asked if they really trust their partner.”

The self-deprecating laugh that left your down-turned lips in that moment pushed Asmo right back down to his usual laidback demeanor, imploring you to explain what you meant by that.

It was only right, you thought, you had been far too invasive for too long.

Asmo respected the work you told him about.

Even if long-term relationships weren’t his thing, or they hadn’t been until he met you, he understand that not everyone could live off the joys of primal lust.

Most people needed a lifelong partner that understood everything they were, ever the dark, twisted parts of them.

But, he didn’t like you tales of the threats you received when certain couples didn’t make it through your counciling sessions.

One too many times had a brick been thrown through the windshield of your car or had been generously gifted a death threat in the mail.

They never worried you, you were used to people finding you odd and anti-social, but it did hurt.

You had only ever wanted to help.

From then, Asmo learnt the psychologist tricks you had up your sleeve, intending to use them on his brothers if they were being particularly secretive.

Especially when you were the subject of their conversation.

He would often bring you to parties, pointing out couples on the dance floor or groups of people who were meant to be friends, asking you who had sexual tension and who were on their last straw with their other half.

You told him time and time again that it didn’t work like that, that you couldn’t just look at someone’s face and defer they were a serial killer.

But body language is a hell of a thing.

Beel:

Being a chef, you were often in the kitchen during the day, trying out recipes Mamo, Satan or Asmo had suggested to you.

Of course, they would often be pranks, potion recipes that would literally blow up in your face the moment you added the frog’s leg or eye of newt.

But, even the smell of the fire place blazing brought the Avatar of Gluttony sniffing around.

At first, he didn’t care what you made, he always cleaned up the mess of your failed experiement made.

When you actually started acting sad when his brothers pranked you again, it was his time to step in.

Instead of leaving you to do your own thing and reap the rewards of your failures, he sat in a wooden chair much too small for him, bearing with the emptiness of his stomach so he could really teach you about the ways of his world.

He told you what you actually needed to make his favourite meal, which he had overheard you ask Mammon one time as you walked to class together.

It was gross and difficult to learn how to cook with a cauldron and entrails of creatures, but you dealt with it because the look of pure, yet subtle, joy on Beel’s face when he ate what you meant to make was far worth the displeasure you went through to cook it.

When you got a couple days vacation from RAD, you somehow talked Mammon into taking you to the human world so you could buy real ingredients you were used to cooking with.

You wanted to prove to them all you weren’t as useless as you seemed when you first got there.

Of course, you would have to alter the recipes to the demons, but it shouldn’t be too hard.

You were a trained professional, after all.

And you definitely proved them all wrong.

Plates of fine dining, fresh vegetables, cakes and sweets.

Abundances of foods of varying cultures and spices.

It took you a whole day to make it all, but the stiffness in your back as you watched the demons, angels and Soloman alike walk into the banquet hall with looks of awe on their faces was enough to ease that pain.

You were exhausted and didn’t want to eat anything yourself, but that went unnoticed by everyone else.

Everyone else but Beelzebub, Avatar of Gluttony.

He pulled his attention away from the amazing food in his mouth long enough to see you sitting in your chair, hugging your legs to your chest and eyes closing a little longer every time you blinked.

You had never looked cuter, but he had never been more worried about you.

“You’re not going you eat anything?” His mouth was full of the fruits of your labour as he leaned over to grab your attention, continuing to shovel food into his mouth as he waited for you to reply.

“The best thing about my job is watching people enjoy it. I’m not hungry.” You yawned through a smile, letting your head rest on his shoulder as your heavy eyelids almost completely restricted your view of the show.

Everyone finally seemed to be getting along.

Diavolo noted to himself he would have a few words with you once the dinner was over.

Belphie:

“You’re a barista.”

Soloman smirked as you two sat together in class, waiting for the ending bell.

“No, I develop energy enhancers, which does include coffee. I literally make new, healthier products that help boost energy and motivation.”

Sure, your part-time job was in a coffee shop, but that was only to pay yourself through college.

The course was nutrionism, paired with a course in chemistry.

You had hoped to use your degree, when you did graduate, to make a product that didn’t cause heart attacks with the sugar content or make people stressed beyond belief on addictive caffeine.

You were a tired teen and survived high school on coffee, but that didn’t do well with your heart.

Now you had a medical condition and got even more tired than you did back then.

Since you couldn’t have coffee anymore, your research was mainly for you.

That’s why, when you hung out with Belphie, sleeping, ironically, you couldn’t be more jealous.

He slept and slept and slept, not a care to the centuries he was wasting doing so.

When you two got close, closer than he and Beel, you somehow managed to get him to test a prototype you had developed with the help of Solomo.

Being the only other human, he actually understood your aims, even if no one else did.

The brother teased you about the fagility of man until you told them about your condition, showing them the medication you had to take everyday to keep your heart beating.

The ones that did bully you, take a lucky guess, first unbelievably guilty, but you got them to pay you back by being your test subjects.

Often, they wouldn’t work, you were still trying to figure out what all these new potions meant and trying to work with the differences between demons and humans. Not to mention the strongest demons there are.

When Belphie did get tricked into drinking the energy concoctions you made, and when they finally worked, he wouldn’t be off the walls like Mammon and Asmo.

He remains docile, talking for a little longer than usual, actually showing interest in what his brothers, and you, did.

It’s not like he was a completely different person, he was still your Belphie, but he had just that little more energy he needed to seemed interested in life as a whole.

When you did admit to him that you had been esstentially drugging him, he took a moment to compute.

MC, the first human he had trusted in so long, had been tricking him to stay awake longer?

To ignore the sin he repesented?

You quickly explained that you had tested it hundreds of times, several times on yourself, like a true scientist, and that you just wanted to spend more time with him, he managed to calm down, just a little.

He jokingly second guessed every drink you handed him from then on, but, honestly, he was happy you had used him like that.

The reasoning for it, for you two to be able to spend more time together, getting to no each other when he wasn’t half asleep or yawning at your every other word.

Mammon had invested in your business venture, but Belphie would be your top customer.

#obey me!#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me mamo #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor #obey me hc #obey me headcanons

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