#I wish it put me back on my horse after but ah well

[centeris2]

me: okay I'll try the lunging in sso

sso: you must be mounted on your horse to do this!

me: ... I think you fundamentally do not understand what lunging is

I know why the game is programmed to go "hey this is a race, you need to be mounted to start a race" but it was a very funny pop up. Also it wasn't one that auto-mounted me, which quests sometimes do now.

[pearl-nouveau]

A Woman's Purpose - Cregan Stark x Reader [chapter three]

summary: After a sudden betrothal, you consider what a future in Winterfell may look like.

warnings: smut, oral (fem receiving durr), referenced baela x jace, slight timeline alterations

a/n: i feel weird writing smut even though i am an adult and i was writing UNGODLY things as a sixteen-year-old virgin half a decade ago. lmk if you enjoy because i don't have anything else written so if i'm going to keep writing i want to know that it's going to be read!

Cregan wasted no time trying to get me accustomed to Winterfell. As we entered the gates, he led me through with a protective hand on my back, steering me towards the stables first. He introduced me to his horse, Stormfighter, and I smiled at his excitement over the creature. It reminded me of my feelings about Vermithor. 

"You shall have as many horses as you wish," he told me, "perhaps a cream-colored one would pair well with mine. But I suppose you already have a dragon."

"Yes, Vermithor is a good form of transportation. I find horses rather slow now."

He laughed. "I shall build a dragonpit for Vermithor, if you wish it."

I smiled gently. He was so eager to please me. "He is much too big, I'm afraid. He will have to find a nest outside like Aemond's dragon, Vhagar."

"Ah. Not as easy as having a small dragon like your brother's, but perhaps more impressive."

"Vermithor's wingspan creates shadows over entire towns." I knew I was boasting, but Cregan's eyes widened with approval nevertheless. 

"Impressive indeed."

He took me within the palace walls, through warm hallways and into a communal dining hall where Stark bannermen laughed together merrily. One of them noticed Cregan enter, and the group regarded him with respectful My Lord's. I observed a few kitchen girls gossiping by the fire, unafraid of their Lord's presence. It pleased me to think that my future husband was a welcome presence to the people who worked beneath him. The tranquility of the scene put my mind at ease.

"I know Winterfell is less grand than you are used to," he admitted wearily, "but I will do anything to ensure your comfort here."

"You are Warden of the North and take care of your people with ease and no complaint," I turned to him, "there is no greater comfort to me than a Lord husband with a gentle heart."

"Lord husband?"

Jacaerys' voice startles you. He has crept up behind the two of you, and you are suddenly aware of the weight of Cregan's hand still on your lower back.

"Jace," I flushed, "we... I..." 

The words were lost in my mouth, but before me stood my brother, and words were not necessary. He smiled at me and I returned the grin knowing that he understood what had come to pass. He brought me in for a hug. 

"Congratulations," he told me, pulling back and kissing my head. He moved to Cregan and, to my surprise, brought him in for a hug as well. "Brother." he said happily. 

"Thank you, my prince." Cregan stood tall in front of him, pride radiating from him. "We will have a celebratory dinner tonight in the great hall."

"I shall send a raven to my mother." Jace said this with a smile and walked off, but I watched Cregan's expression darken. 

"What is it, qēlos?" I touched his face without thinking. He leaned into my fingertips.

"I realized I never asked your mother permission for your hand," he said, "I was so caught up in the thrill of being yours that..."

"It matters not, it was always my choice." I said firmly. I could tell it still bothered him. "What can I do to make it better?" He thought for a moment. 

"Allow me to come with you to Dragonstone, at the appropriate time. Let me meet the queen and pledge myself to her and you in person. And then..." he trailed off, as if afraid to overstep.

"Yes?"

"I hoped we could have a ceremony in the traditions of House Targaryen. Bind ourselves to one another by blood. If it pleases you."

For him to think of my house and my culture and not only his own made me awash with emotion. 

"It does please me." I whispered, placing a sweet kiss to his lips. He pulled back.

"What did that word mean?" My brows furrowed at his question. 

"What word?"

"The one you said earlier, qua, queh..." 

"Qēlos." I told him. "It means star." 

He hummed and repeated the word under his breath. 

I sought some alone time with Jace so we could talk before my betrothal to Cregan was announced at dinner. I found him in the library of Winterfell, flipping through an old history book. He looked up as I came in. 

"Sister," he greeted, "the Maester suggested I read up on the history of our houses' relationships with one another. That is, the Targaryens and the Starks."

"I hope it's good." 

He smiled. "Even if it wasn't, this marriage would surely do the trick." He stood up, removing his focus from the book below him. "Cregan is a powerful man, little dragon. In many ways. He commands a population that our ancestors have found very hard to control in the past. The North is loyal not to their Warden, but to their Lord Stark. His involvement could mean victory for mother."

I scoffed, suddenly annoyed. I was newly engaged and he could still only talk politics. "Well, what do you suggest I do? Suck his cock every time mother wants a thousand men? I won't be her pawn, I am going to be the Lady of Winterfell."

"I only mean that you now sit beside one of our most important fighters. I... I suppose I don't know what I meant telling you that. I just mean that it pleases me to see you with such an accomplished man. And... I like Cregan. He is good, and you deserve a good man."

"I did worry, at first, that he only asked for my hand because mother sought something from him. But he asked for my hand all those years ago, in a letter he sent me after his time in King's Landing."

"What? Why did you never respond?"

I flushed. "I never opened the letter."

Jace began to cackle. "You're a fool, sister." 

"I know." I snapped at him, slapping his shoulder. I sat down in a chair across the table from him, prompting him to sit as well. "I don't think I would have said yes if I had, though."

"Why not?"

I sighed. "I was not ready, and I knew not what he wanted from me."

"What does he want from you?" Jace was prodding, and I was letting it happen. I looked down at my hands.

"Everything. My heart and soul. I haven't been ready to give it. I have been too afraid that I would give it to the wrong person, or they would capture it and I would never be free again. But I feel free with him. He wants nothing from me, but to love me. And I know if I ask for my soul back, he will give it to me. But I want him to have it. I trust him."

A tear shot down my cheek, taking me by surprise. I didn't realize I had started crying. Jace was still smiling at me. I loved when he smiled, and I had the feeling it would only become more rare. So I returned it, and we were happy together for a moment. 

"When will you wed?" He asked curiously. 

"I have no idea. But Cregan has asked to visit mother in Dragonstone and have a ceremony of her house there."

"That will please her greatly."

I nodded. "Part of me wants it to be slow, so that I can ease into being married. But part of me cannot wait another day. Part of me just wants to be near him, close to him, always." I blushed, realizing what I was insinuating. But Jacaerys was nodding in agreement. 

"You know, you can wait as long as you want. You don't have to wait for the rest, not really."

"What?" I sputtered. He so casually and simply dismantled a norm that had been thrust at us our entire lives. More specifically, me. 

"No one really knows what happens behind closed doors." He shrugged.

"Oh hush, Jace, you only say that because you are a man." I bit.

His face reddened. "Very well, but you have never heard me presume to say that a woman's virtue is ruined alongside her maidenhood."

"Only old men still believe that."

"Exactly. Look, I know how much of a change this is from what you convinced yourself you always wanted. Take a few moons to settle in before you marry him. If anything happens naturally between you two in that period... so be it. You are to be married anyhow."

I was amused by his candor. "My brother, the wildling." I teased. "Tell me, was this enlightened opinion developed when our depraved uncle took you to a brothel when you were ten and three?"

He rolled his eyes. "You know very well I was a child deathly frightened of women, and bedding brothel wenches is different than making love to your betrothed."

It clicked for me. "You mean to tell me that you and Baela..."

He looked at his lap, equally flustered and self-satisfied. As much as it irked me to think of my brother in bed with someone, I found his admission heartwarming. After our grandsire's death, Dragonstone had been dreary and tense. We all walked the halls knowing that our days were numbered. To be unwilling to wait to be with the one you love when each day could be your last - it was romantic. 

"Jace," I grinned at him. I kicked him under the table. "How? I mean, when?"

"Before grandsire died," he admitted, "We just... got caught up in the moment. But I don't regret it. Life is too short."He reached out across the table and playfully pressed his knuckles against my cheek in a faux-punch. "If you are choosing to be free, be free. We may be called into battle on the morrow."

I left our conversation feeling validated in a way I hadn't realized I needed to be. It made me want only one thing: to find my husband-to-be.

I found Cregan in the highest room of a round tower to walk to dinner together. He answered the door and I could tell he had been working from the papers strewn upon his desk. The room was set up as an office, with a small straw mattress in the corner. I guessed that he found himself sleeping here when overwhelmed with work. 

"My beautiful wife," he greeted me, "almost. Come in." 

He brought me in, sitting me in a cushioned chair across from his desk and leaning against that to observe me. I spoke. "I wanted to discuss the wedding. I was not sure how long you wanted our engagement to last, and I wondered how soon before we are married." 

"I had not thought to discuss the details without you," he said, "you are, after all, meant to be in attendance as well."

His words always comforted me, and were always accompanied by a soft smile that I had only seen him give to me. "If it is alright, my Lord, I hoped to wait a few moons before we are wed. I suppose I have not yet come to terms with the reality of saying the vows." 

"We can wait as many moons as you like, little dove. Years, if it is your wish."

I smiled up at him. "You are so easy. You truly have no quarrels?"

"Not if it would go against my Lady's desires." I stood. Our chests were inches apart. I could feel his hot breath on my face.

"There is nothing that you cannot wait for?"

He shuddered. His jaw tightened as if he were in pain. Suddenly, the unbreakable man had a crack running through his thick skin. I ran my fingers up his furs and toyed with the clasp, which carried the Stark sigil. I unclipped it slowly and his cloak fell to the floor. 

"You don't have to wait to touch me," I told him. His eyes were burning holes through mine, darting every other breath to my lips. He bit his lip. 

"I will not sully you, my princess," he said in a low voice. "I am an honorable man."

"And I am an honorable woman," I said firmly. "Therefore we do not dishonor each other."

"Your arithmetic is very confusing, my love."

"But it is correct."

He kissed me with a heat that his kisses had never held before. It was as if now I had given him permission to want me, he could no longer pretend he didn't. His hands roamed up my back, unclasping my cloak and moving to tangle in my hair. Teeth clashed against each other in a dance that we were both leading. One of his large hands came to rest at the base of my throat, then ran lower through the column of my breasts and then he finally moved to cup one. I gasped at the feeling of his fingers kneading at my flesh, slowing down when grazing over my nipple. He stopped kissing me only to flip us and place me on the desk, slotting his hips between my legs. I squealed as he pressed them open, the fabric of my dress falling between my thighs, but he quickly bunched it and moved my dress up past my hips. He smiled at the sight of my smallclothes. 

"I'll have you naked in my bed soon," he grumbled, "but for now, I won't ruin the surprise. I will just give you a taste of the pleasure you shall have for the rest of your life."

His words made me whimper. He kneeled down in front of me, and a surge of embarrassment made me close my eyes as he grasped my undergarments and slid them down my legs. He must have noticed, because no more touches came after I was bare. I opened my eyes to his gaze. 

"I want you to watch me please you," he said gently, more a request than a command. He kissed the inside of my thigh. My hip bone. Slowly, he grew closer to my center, keeping eye contact with me until his mouth connected with my core. 

Oh. 

So this was why people could not wait until after their marriage vows. 

I gasped so loudly that he stopped for a moment until I gently grasped his hair and guided him back to where he was. I could feel him smiling down there and I almost laughed with joy. His tongue danced beautiful choreography against my cunt, expertly drawing pleasure from my body in a way I could never have imagined.

"Cregan... fuck, oh, yes," I could no longer control words from spilling from my mouth. He slowly stroked a finger at my entrance, looking back up at me to ask for permission as he gently prodded at my hole. I nodded and then moaned as his finger intruded me, and if I wasn't mistaken I could have sworn I heard him let out a moan as if it were his own cock that had penetrated me. 

He continued to eat me like a starved man and with the addition of his finger slowly curling inside of me, I knew that something was about to explode within me. My stomach was tightening, my legs shaking and trying to clamp shut against Cregan's head. He fought against them with ease, pressing me further open and leaning into his meal, lapping it up like a wolf feasting on prey. He could feel my peak approaching and his tongue began to focus on my pearl, suckling and kissing the bud with tender care. 

It was too much. My moans had morphed into screams of pleasure, and my hands were yanking at his hair so hard I had no idea how he wasn't hurt. With a few more well-placed licks against my pussy, I could feel myself at the edge.

"Cregan..." I could barely breathe, barely speak. "I'm-I'm-so, so close," I keened. 

"You're perfect," he mumbled against me, "can't believe this is all mine." He dove back in on a mission and I began to fall.

"Oh, oh, yes..." I could only sigh as the tension snapped and a jolt ran through my body. It was electric, and Cregan held my body tightly as it shuddered. He stood slowly, caressing my legs as he did, and removing a handkerchief from his pocket, which he gently ran through my folds. I gasped, sensitive from my orgasm, grasping at his forearm. He only hushed me and kissed my brow. He moved my dress back down to protect my modesty, and picked my undergarments off the floor. 

"I'll keep these as a reminder of the first of many times I ate my wife's cunt," he said, shoving them into his pocket. He picked me up from the desk and set me down in front of him. "How was that? Are you alright?"

I put my arms around his neck. "I have literally never been better."

“I am glad.” He said. He kissed me slowly, his arms absentmindedly running across every plane of my back, mapping the new terrain. "You are..." He looked at me the way people usually looked at me before calling me beautiful. But he said nothing. He only placed a peck on my forehead and fetched our cloaks from the floor, reclasping mine first and then his own.

"I am what?" I asked, now curious.

Cregan shrugged, leading me towards the door. "There isn't a word to describe it."

The silent walk that we took to the great hall was not awkward, but pensive. I liked the feeling of my arm wrapped around his underneath the cloaks. He always pulled me to his side, so he could feel the fabric of our clothes brushing together as we walked. Every few steps I could see him look down at me out of my peripheral vision. At one such time, I caught his gaze and we smiled at each other. He licked his lips slightly, and it reminded me that those same lips had so recently between my legs, and I blushed, my gaze falling to my feet.

"Thinking of something, dove?" He smirked. 

"Just those lips of yours," I reached up and brushed his bottom one with my fingertip. "You've been blessed with a talented mouth."

"I am at your service, forever." He said seriously.

Forever. It seemed an easy enough thing to imagine with Cregan. He felt safe, he was devoted to me. He said he loved me. Could it be that easy? Just to give in to his love? It was tempting, but I sought clarity. What made him love, and why had he found it with me? What if I suddenly stopped doing the thing he loved? The darkest part of my heart told me that as we aged and my beauty faded, his interest in me would falter. 

"Now you surely aren't thinking of me between your legs," he observed, "because you are frowning."

"Just wondering."

"About?"

I sighed. "Do you believe that love fades?"

"Sometimes." He said. His definitive answer stumped me and I could feel a flare of anger arise from it.

"Well, then," I hummed passive-aggressively. It was unbecoming, I knew, especially since I was trying to ascertain that he would not grow tired of my antics and regret our union. Instead of arguing, he chuckled. 

"Why do you speak in riddles? Ask me what I know you have been wondering. I may be a dull Northerner but I am not dimwitted." 

Even in humbling me he was gentle, his voice laced with amusement, as if any complaint I may have could be fixed as simply as commanding him. 

"Why do you love me? I... I am afraid that whatever it is will fade, and you will grow tired of me. And..."

"And?"

"Forgive me."

"What?"

I felt hot tears behind my eyes but I clenched my teeth until they retreated. "Will I forever be your second wife? Not the mother of your children, either, only a... replacement? I'm sorry, my Lord, I should not target your late wife with my own insecurities."

He had stopped us in the hallway, boxing me against the wall and listening intently. Cregan drank every word I said up like honey. After I finished, his palm found my face and I saw the emotions swimming behind his eyes. I regretted terribly the possibility that I may have reopened past wounds.

"I believe love can fade sometimes, in the way that it has for my late wife." He sighed. "Her name was Arra. We were friends in childhood. When my parents suggested our union, her familiarity comforted me. I think that is what I loved about her. She was like home, like being a boy again. But I am no longer a boy." He took my hands. "I will miss Arra until the day I die because she was my friend and bore me a babe. But I did not choose her, and you have been my only thought since the moment I met you. In years of not hearing from you, not knowing if you would ever allow me to become close to you, I still loved you. Every night memories of your wit and bravery haunted me. Fuck, girl, you ruined me for any other woman. The thought of anyone else, for all those moons, was unthinkable. You could not fade from my heart if I tried to pluck you out with a knife."

I hadn't anything to say. 

So I said, "I love you."

[galedekarios]

thoughts on emmrich's vows & vengeance ep

i just wanted a place for me to gather my thoughts about emmrich's ep.

i have to say that i enjoyed it much more than the others, though i'm very likely biased. i absolutely have my problems with the overall writing as well as the way the podcasts treats the lore of the world, but i liked the insights it gave into emmrich, his personality and also his relationship with manfred.

so in no particular order:

1: emmrich's kindness

this is something that really, really stuck out to me this episode. emmrich is so incredibly kind.

from wanting to set the horses pulling the carriage free so they can have a chance in the storm, even if there is a possibility they might not come back and leave them stranded in the middle of nowhere:

ROLET: The storm’s getting heavy, Master Emmrich. We may not be able to go much further. What do you want me to do? EMMRICH: Hmm, perhaps we should pull the carriage off the road and hunker down inside until it passes. ROLET: What about the horses, sir? EMMRICH: Unhitch them. ROLET: Unhitch them? EMMRICH: Those animals are every bit a part of nature as this storm. Their instincts will guide them to safety. We just have to give them the freedom to take care of themselves. I trust they shall return when this tempestuous weather has passed.

he's immediately ready to help nadia despite knowing nothing about her, who she is or what she is saying is true, dismissing rolet's very reasonable fear of bandits:

NADIA: By the Lady, I am so happy to see you. We, we, we've been stuck here at least an hour. I didn't know what to do. They, they were too heavy to carry in this mud. Their pulse is falling and I- EMMRICH: There, there. Please put your mind at ease, my lady. What is your name? NADIA: Nadia, but… EMMRICH: A pleasure, Nadia. Emmrich Volkarin, at your service. Now come, we have some room in the carriage and you can shelter there until the storm passes.

he's not only incredibly polite to everyone in this episode, but he's also very gentle with rolet and helps him walk after he injured his ankle:

EMMRICH: Forgive me, but I must gently roll the ankle to examine its condition. (ROLET YELLING) EMMRICH: How does that feel? ROLET: Ah, not good! EMMRICH: I'm afraid it might be broken. I don't think you can walk. ROLET: I can limp. EMMRICH: Not by yourself, you won't. We shall help you. Now, here we go.

he's incredibly human here, not caring about standing, doesn't think himself above to do so because rolet is his coachman. he only wants to help. it's also very nice to see him being a healer, too.

DRAYDEN: That's it! That's where they went. EMMRICH: Well, then we go this way. Please take my arm for balance.

the same kindness and compassion that he shows the horses in the beginning, nadia and drayden, as well as rolet, is echoed in the way he treats the spirits/demons in this episode:

EMMRICH: Spirit, I am warning you to stop this right now. DEMON SPINELLA: Piss off, human slime. EMMRICH: I do not wish to hurt you or the body you inhabit, but I will not allow you to harm my companion. DEMON SPINELLA: Go back to your necropolis, death whisperer. EMMRICH: I'm sorry, but that body does not belong to you. EMMRICH: Spirit, you are not welcome here. And you are not welcome to that body. You shall leave now! EMMRICH: Please relinquish her body before someone gets hurt. DEMON SPINELLA: Oh, well, if I can't have her body,then no one will! EMMRICH: Easy now. Take that bottle away from your neck and put it down. DEMON SPINELLA: Or else what? EMMRICH: Please, I beg of you. DEMON SPINELLA: I want you to remember this moment clearly and painfully because this is on you! (FLESH SQUELCHING) (DEMON CHOKING AND GURGLING) EMMRICH: No, don't! EMMRICH: No!

he doesn't know who the woman possessed it yet he still tries to save her. he still tries to reason with the spirit.

and even though we can't see what is happening as for as the character's facial expressions are concerned and drayden rushes to reassure emmrich, that what happened is not his fault, that it's not on him, i think that it's very clear in his prolonged silence after that emmrich may see it as his failing and that it left him shaken.

all in all, it just really echoes what corinne busche and others who were lucky enough to play the preview of datv already said about emmrich: he's an extremely kind man.

what makes me worry though a bit is just how quick he is to trust and others at their word.

i talked about this with my friend @lairofsentinel too and we both feel that emmrich might not be as discerning about people's motivations and their possible deceptions - and the inherent danger in that - as he is when it comes to the dead, spirits and healing.

of course, taking v&v's writing with a grain of salt, but if it's reflective of how emmrich behaves in the game itself, it might be interesting to explore this "flaw" in emmrich's character.

emmrich seems very much too good for his own good.

he has spent more time among the dead, knows about their regrets and their emotions, and is renowned for his skill (see also tevinter nights). it might be that it came at the detriment - to some degree - when it comes to dealing with the living.

2: emmrich being very competent at what he does

it was also incredible to see emmrich at work:

NADIA: Drayden! EMMRICH: Stand back. EMMRICH: (echoing) May these words travel beyond the flesh, beyond the body, flowing down the silver thread to the spirit lost. Your home is calling, Drayden. Hear me! Your home is calling. NADIA: What are you doing? EMMRICH: I'm sending a message beyond the Veil to let Drayden know that it will soon be safe for them to return to their body.

-

EMMRICH: Now I need to finish preparations, but once the ritual begins, it shouldn't take long. However, with the poison's advancement, I will most likely need to perform an exsanguination. PASCAL: Hmm, blood magic, such messy business. EMMRICH: Ah, merely a cleansing. Nothing will be summoned, I give you my word.

-

EMMRICH: Spirit fire of midnight suns, through my spire of ill and ire, the wretched blood be blessed, not mired. EMMRICH: Manfred, stand back, I must direct the blood through the air without interruption. But,be ready. (MANFRED HISSES) EMMRICH: Let the cleansing grace lead you to thy spirit's place. Manfred, the blood has gathered. Quickly, please, spark the flames with the silver power. EMMRICH: Excellent work, friend! The blood is returning to the body. Drayden's spirit has heard the call. Come on, Drayden, I can feel your spirit's might. You are strong. You can do this, just fight. Fight for yourplace in this world. EMMRICH: That's it, you're almost home. Manfred, please smash the ampoule of Cetusbile. EMMRICH: Drayden, I commit you once more to the flesh. Now, find this body and purge it of its trespass. And wake up!

i also like that last bit especially because it's another callback to corinne busche saying that emmrich is all about positive affirmations, that he's very encouraging.

i remember the gameplay previews where he compliments rook during a fight - and he does the same here, encouraging drayden to find their own strength to return.

3: emmrich & manfred

i absolutely love the way these two interact. emmrich clearly is proud of him, he defends him, he speaks up for him. but he also knows he can rely on manfred.

my favourite moments were probably this moment after rolet and nadia startle at the sight of manfred:

NADIA: Why is there a walking skeleton exiting your carriage? EMMRICH: That, dear Nadia, is Manfred. NADIA: Manfred, your assistant? EMMRICH: Indeed, a gentle spirit, ball of curiosity, and a threat to no one.

it's just such a sweet way to describe manfred and you can tell there's genuine affection there.

i also thought it was cute that manfred doesn't like nicknames and that emmrich translates for manfred:

NADIA: Someone hand me that board. NADIA: Thanks, Bones. NADIA: Ah! What's your problem? EMMRICH: Oh, I'm afraid Manfred here is not very fond of nicknames. NADIA: Oh, sorry. (MANFRED GRUNTING) EMMRICH: He says apology accepted.

there also multiple instances of emmrich complimenting manfred on his work, just as he did in his short story:

EMMRICH: Manfred, did you salvage my kit? (MANFRED GRUNTING) EMMRICH: Excellent work.

and it's clear that manfred is a big part of how emmrich performs his duties. he's very much included at every turn and emmrich clearly relies on him and trusts manfred to do what he needs him to do.

4: other stuff

ROLET: But this place is creepy. EMMRICH: Well, I think it's quite charming. ROLET: All due respect, sir, but you would.

emmrich finding the obviously haunted castle vibes of their temporary shelter charming while everyone else has the creeps (and rightly so!) was so funny and in character.

in conclusion:

me waiting for 31st october:

[ameagrice]

Capsize

percy jackson x fem reader

chapter thirty-five | when I say ‘hell’, you say ‘nah’

Being tied up and gagged sitting beside a barbecue spitting hot oil at you, was not on the agenda.

And yet you sighed, tied up to a barbecue. Across the porch, Nico sat the same way, bound to the railing. To your left, Grover mirrored him, tied up in the sun. He was sweating, and looked incredibly tired. You wished you could do something about the situation you got caught in, but the truth was, you couldn’t do a thing. Percy got you here, and only Percy could get you out.

“Lovely day!” Geryon flipped sausages. A bit of piping-hot oil landed on your cheek. You flinched, but he didn’t pay you any notice. “Lovely day…Eurytion, get those banners higher!”

Streamers and party balloons were tied up and taped to the windows by Eurytion, who you deducted to be a spineless man. He’d tied you all up at Geryon’s instructions and relaxed on the bench under the window, in the shade.

You tried desperately to think of a way you could contact anyone. Chiron, perhaps, who could advise you on what to do now that Percy had gotten you tied up and held hostage. Maybe even Sally Jackson, since she always knew what you could do. Her advice hadn’t failed you yet. But there were no water sources or reflective surfaces to make a rainbow, and you could reach your bag chucked out of the way down on the grass, anyway. Eurytion had been kind enough to put your dagger in your bag, rather than throwing it away. That was something.

Eurytion and Geryon ate barbecue food, put more on the grill, and ate that, too, until the sun had set relatively low. The whole time, you tried not to hyperventilate at the thought of Percy being eaten by monster horses. You tried not to think of the high possibility you’d be sold off like a piece in a thrift store. You tried not to, but your mind ran wild. Grover communicated with his eyes, probably as tired as you were after your struggle to get out of the ties. You hadn’t any idea what he was communicating, though—the sun beamed in your eyes.

You were beginning to think he wasn’t coming back at all, a hopeless sort of sadness setting in, when a desperate, boys voice rang out above the barbecue and Geryon’s terrible singing.

“Let them go!” Percy’s voice raged. He ran up the porch steps and rounded. He locked eyes with you, and then Grover and Nico. “I cleaned the stables. So let them go.” Relief lifted the weight off your shoulders, that Percy was still breathing.

Geryon lifted off his cooking apron and dumped it over the porch rail. “Did you, now? How’d you manage it, sonny?”

Breathing deeply, Percy explained. “The water from the river. I…controlled it. Cleared the stables out completely.”

Geryon nodded appreciatively. “Well, then, Mr. Genius, smart move. You could have at least poisoned the naiad that resides in there, but hey-ho.” The staticky radio on the bench next to Eurytion played an Elvis Presley song, cutting out here and there. Polk Salad Annie felt a little bit too upbeat for the unpredictable crowd.

“Let my friends go,” Percy seethed, not appreciating the insinuation that he hadn’t done enough. “We had a deal.”

Geryon chuckled. “See, the problem is, and I’ve been thinking about this very deeply; if I let your friends go, I won’t get paid. They’re staying.”

Your eyes widened so much you might have looked comical. Percy turned gray. “You. Promised.”

“Ah, but you didn’t have me swear on the River Styx, did you? Therefore, it was not binding. Always remember, Percy, when you’re conducting any business, you should always swear on the River Styx. A binding oath is worth everything, alrighty?”

A beat of silence hit as Percy drew his sword. Riptide reflected the gold of the sun, strong at your friend’s side. Orthus, standing at Grover’s head, growled deeply.

Geryon waved Percy off like he was a knat. “Eurytion, he’s annoying me. Kill him.”

Grover and yourself protested as much as you could with your mouth’s somewhat bound too. Geryon looked away and slung a packet of bacon on the grill. At the same time, Percy inched closer to you, angling Riptide to the ties on your ankles. Orthus pounced and snapped at him, forcing Percy to move away. Saliva dripped from the dog’s mouths in a disgusting puddle near your feet. You couldn’t help feeling a little angry at him. For the first time, Percy had truly put your life at risk, and his way out of it failed to be effective.

“Kill him yourself,” said Eurytion, crossing his arms loosely.

Raising his dark brows, Geryon uttered a calm, “Excuse me?”

“You heard me! You keep sending me to do your dirty work. You pick fights for no proper reason, and I’m tired of dying for you. You want the kid dead; kill him yourself.”

Tensely, the scene reminded you of a movie, like a cowboy facing down his enemy. You wanted to laugh, but honestly you felt a little too heat-exhausted and scared.

Geryon threw down the metal tongs. “How dare you defy me? I should be rid of you this instant!”

“And who’d look after your cattle then? Orthus, heel.” The dog left you, settling at Eurytion’s side.

“Whatever! I’ll deal with you later, after the boy’s gone.”

Then the scene

went

wild.

Geryon picked up two carving knives and threw them with such fury in Percy’s direction that they went haywire; he raised Riptide and deflected one away, over the rail, the other landed between Eurytion’s feet. Orthus barked aggressively, and Elvis Presley went crazy on the radio. Though obviously tired, and looking sweaty and pale (and in need of a shower after the stench of the stables), Percy went on the offence, raising Riptide and aiming right for Geryon’s head. He ducked and moved aside, causing the sword to go right through his middle chest. You looked away, praying to your mother you didn’t gag, because the way you were feeling in the sun, it would not be good. Geryon yelled in pain and thudded to the deck. You anticipated the familiar sound of crumbling to ashes and dust the way monsters usually do, but it didn’t happen.

“Nice try,” he growled. “Thing is, I obviously have three hearts. It’s the perfect backup!” You looked back just in time to witness him kick over the barbecue that had been boiling all day long. The metal grates fell away, as smoking coals spilled out. Being so close to it, one caught your cheek as it dropped, others burning around your feet. You screamed, and couldn’t stop it. Grover yanked uselessly at his bindings, while Orthus approached him in a low crawl. Elvis didn’t give a shit that you found yourself in a stressful situation. Eurytion stepped back down the porch steps. Nico looked visibly terrified. After all, he was only a kid.

Percy struck Geryon in the chest again, but he only laughed in his face. The dark-haired boy ran the sword through his stomach but it did absolutely nothing. Percy persevered, usually, so watching him take off inside the house was a kick to the stomach. He couldn’t leave you here, surely? Your cheek itched painfully from the burn of the coal and the oil and the sun, you were tired and hot and stressed. Sooner rather than later, you might explode.

Geryon launched the large barbecue fork through the open doorway, and it landed in something with a terrible clunk. “Your head’s gonna go there, Jackson, next to the bear!”

In the doorway, Percy appeared carrying a large bow and notched an arrow, shocking since he couldn’t so much as hit a target a metre away at camp. Geryon berated him verbally with cruel remarks and laughter, but Percy was not to be deterred. The monster didn’t need weapons to charge toward Percy, who dove sideways. Before he could react, Percy let the arrow fly. It shot straight through Geryon’s arm in a bloody mess, and right through his bodies to the other side, landing in the wall inside the house. The ranch grew still and quiet, Geryon turning. “You can’t shoot,” he struggled to talk. “They told me you can’t.” In a sickly shade of violent green, he fell to his knees heavily and promptly turned to ashes, grains as small as sand. Silently, all that remained was a pair of jeans, a huge shirt and boots.

Percy turned, dropping the bow to the deck, clattering. In his pocket Riptide had returned. He cut your mouth free first, careful of the stinging cheek, knowing somehow that freedom of speech was what you wanted now.

You coughed to clear your throat, and brilliant-gray met sea-green. “Glad you’re still breathing, Percy Jackson.”

He swallowed, cutting through the binding at your ankles. “Glad you’re still here, B.”

You collected your backpack and dug straight for a bottle of water, sipping slowly as Grover and Nico were released. Casting the bottle away into your bag, you stood to build up the barbecue again, and offered the last packs of burgers to the gods as a thanks for helping Percy actually get a good shot…and not somehow shooting you, instead (which he had nearly done, once before).

Nico said Eurytion should be tied up, and Grover agreed on the grounds that his dog had tried to kill you all. Murder wasn’t in your books, and you didn’t want to become a subject of interest, but the old man had done nothing while you cooked under the sun and was going to allow you to be handed over to Luke. So…something had to be done.

“Why don’t we just…” you thought, “I don’t know, actually. Could just tie him and make a run for it before he breaks free?”

“Or we could contact Chiron?” Suggested Grover. “Maybe he could do something about this?”

You waved him off. “Chiron would be too nice.”

Percy raised his brows. “And just tying some up is isn’t being too nice?”

“Alright! I’m just saying, murder is a bit far. He isn’t completely guilty. He didn’t really do anything to us.”

“Didn’t do anything for us, either,” retorted your friend. Percy flicked his hair from his face, sweaty and sun-kissed.

Nico gasped with an idea. “We could kill him, and then I’ll go and judge him in the Underworld.”

You clicked your fingers, pointing at Nico. “Ha ha, that’s not what we’re gonna do.”

“Look,” breathed Percy, pocketing Riptide-now-pen. He held out a hand to Eurytion as he spoke. “How long will Geryon take to reform and come back?”

“Couple hundred years,” the farmhand shrugged. “He ain’t one of those quick reformers.”

“Oh, thank you Zeus,” you mumbled. The sky rumbled, perfectly clear.

“You said you died for him in the past, didn’t you? How’d that happen?”

Eurytion explained his immortality, chosen way back when in his half-blood era. Percy stood beside you leaning on the fencing, raising his hand to shield his bright eyes from the blinding sun. In turn, his shadow blocked you, dimming the feel of burning on your face.

“You can change things ‘round here,” offered Percy, “be nice to the animals, not selling them. If we leave you here, you’ve got to stop trading with the Titans.”

Eurytion thought about it hard, and long. He sat silent, just pondering, until eventually he nodded. “I can live with that.”

“Hey, if you get the animals on your side, maybe when Geryon comes back, he’ll be working for you. Tables—turned.”

Eurytion hummed, chuckling low in his throat. “I wouldn’t mind that,” he grinned. He waved off in the distance. “Now go. I haven’t had peace and quiet in years. And the girl looks like she needs a hospital. Seriously, you look sick.”

“That’s rude.”

“You’re not gonna stop us?” Grover pushed away from his seat. You leaned your elbow on his shoulder.

“Hell no.”

Despite his calm, laidback demeanour, you couldn’t help feeling suspicious. Raising your bottle to your warm cheeks, cooling them a little, you asked the question stuck on your mind. “He said somebody paid for our safe passage. The only person I can think of down here who could have done so would be Hera. She met us in the maze. She gave us some not-so-helpful advice. You seen her anywhere?”

Eurytion shrugged. “I don’t know what he was talking about. And I ain’t seen any gods round here, lady.”

“What about Luke, and his army? Did you actually tell them we’re here?”

He scoffed with humour. “Did I hell. We were waiting until after the barbecue. So to answer your indirect question, missus, they don’t know about Mr. Nico.”

The boy himself glared right at you with such passion it almost physically burned. Two options were here and two only.

“You can come with us and get out of here,” you offered. “Or you can stay on the ranch for a while. Either way you’d be quite safe.”

Nico’s face warped to one of fury. His skinny fists clenched at his sides. “I’m not going anywhere with you! Safe? What do you know about being safe? You got my sister killed!”

You practically saw red. Shoving your bag into Percy’s fumbling arms, you leaned down to face Nico, who ground his teeth loudly. “Alright, you little shit—let’s get one thing straight before we go anywhere: I did not get your sister killed. I’ve thought long and hard about it, and ultimately I’ve decided that Bianca had her own brain, and her own free will. I didn’t make her do anything, and I didn’t push her. It was a tragic accident, okay?”

“Nico,” Percy stood beside you, laying a warm hand on your shoulder and urging you back from the kid who didn’t move. “She’s right. Please believe her. Believe us. None of this was anybody’s fault. Staying here would be fine, you don’t have to come with us if you don’t want to. But if Kronos finds out about you, he’ll take you, and he’ll do anything to get you on his side. It won’t be good, Nico, trust me.”

Nico turned his face away. “I’m not on anyone’s side. And I’m not scared of any of this.”

“You really should be. Bianca wouldn’t want any of this.”

He turned back. Nico’s eyes swam with tears, and you felt a little bad for popping off. “If you knew my sister, you know she’d want to come back! If you cared about her, you’d help me to bring her back.”

“A soul for a soul, right?”

“Yes!”

Percy looked troubled. “But if you didn’t want B, and you didn’t want me, then who?”

“I’m not explaining anything to either of you!” He exclaimed. When a tiny tear tread down his cheek, Nico raised his hand to wipe it away aggressively. “I’m going to bring her back. She’s my sister. I need to…I need her.” He rubbed his eyes viciously.

You deflated. Nico tried to look brave, and act older than he was, but his eyes were rimmed with red as he rubbed at them, and he choked on his tears. All of a sudden you wanted nothing more than to sit him down and talk to him, apologise for shouting when he was so upset. You wanted to kick yourself for acting impulsively, and shouting at a child as they cried. At fifteen years old, you should have known better. You reminded yourself terribly then of your father.

“Why don’t we ask Bianca what she wants?”

Nico’s face stilled. “I’ve tried,” he said miserably. “She won’t answer.”

“Try again,” shrugged Percy. A cold breeze shocked you, suddenly. In the distance, storm clouds were rolling in out of a perfectly sunny day…. “I have a feeling she’ll answer with me here.” He sounded very confident in that, and for what reason?

“Why would she?” Asked Nico.

“Because she’s been sending me messages,” Percy shifted on his feet at the sudden onslaught of confused looks. “I’m sure she has. She’s been warning me of what you’re doing. She wanted me to protect you.”

Nico wiped his eyes furiously. “That’s impossible.”

“Why is it?” Percy offered. “Besides, didn’t you say you’re not afraid? Let’s try it. We’ll need a lot of food, and a pit. You got anything like a grave around here?”

—

The grave happened to be dug especially by yourself and Grover. You never were one for gardening, and you find yourself slacking towards the end of the grave-digging.

“Come on,” urged Grover, sweaty and tired. “Just—we can do this. We’ve got this. Positive thinking. Deep breath in…”

You want to tell Grover that positive thinking won’t influence positive actions, because your limbs feel like lead. But together you finish the grave, and your friends pull you out of it. You waited until dark, the five of you and the dog, to call on the dead. With crates of root beer at the ready, Nico paced back and forth, anxious. You sat at the edge of the grave and dangled your legs in, exhausted beyond belief. Every now and then you had to kick away a bug. Grover sat on his heels, sleeping on the crates of root beer.

“Minos should be here by now!” Came Nico’s tiny voice, his dark eyes full of worry. The moon was high and full and bright. Percy’s infinite gray streak shone in the light, a patch among dark, dark hair. “It’s dark enough. It’s late enough…”

“Maybe he got lost,” suggested Percy. Nico glared furiously.

Percy crouched beside you and clapped you on the shoulder, digging his fingers in as a means to try and show you he was there. Maybe he knew you well enough by now to know you were getting irritated and agitated, waiting and tired and forcing your eyes to stay open.

Little Nico grew fed up himself, and wrenched a bottle of root beer from the crate, pouring it into the pit. Grover jerked away, and began helping. With food in a pile from the forgotten barbecue, Nico’s hands dashed out hungrily, and threw them into the pit too, chanting in Ancient Greek. To anyone else, the sudden chill of the night air and the aura that settled with Nico’s chanting might have been terrifying, or uncomfortable. You found the grim ordeal that was summoning the dead to be a rather interesting situation. Something satisfying in raising what once was. A reminder that things never truly died.

It didn’t take long for someone to come forward. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the right someone.

A dark shade of blue, a thin and whispery figure that mirrored who it was once, kneeled at the edge of the grave and reached in. The image somewhat shimmered, and when you looked hard enough, features showed through; deep-set eyes, hardened and somewhat angry; facial features showing crows feet around the eyes, dark brows…

“Minos!” Yelled Nico, suddenly on guard. He brought forth his sword, aimed at the ghost. “What are you doing?!”

“My apologies,” he said, though there wasn’t a hint of sorry in there. Slowly, the ghost’s image grew a bit more real, more colorful. “The sacrifice seemed too good to leave be. Almost in solid form—it’s nice to see myself again.”

“You are disrupting the Ritual! Leave, now!”

Minos paid him no mind. You’d long since jumped away from the edge of the grave, and joined Percy’s side, but something about the ghost ignited in you a want to take Nico’s sword and run the loser through with it. He turned to the two of you, running his eyes in a way that had you almost wretching.

“Percy Jackson!” He hummed. “My, my. The sons of Poseidon never seem to get any better.”

A rude and untrue comment, because you’d seen old images of Greek heroes, and Percy was the best by a million. Not that you’d say that out loud, or anything.

Percy had a lot more self-control than you did in the moment, because he simply took a deep breath, and said, “We’re looking for Bianca. Get lost.”

“Do you really believe Daedalus will help you?” Minos taunted, tilting his head. Nico had begun chanting again, kneeling at the edge of the pit with Grover kneeling dutifully at his side, taking care. “He cares nothing for you, half-bloods! You certainly cannot trust him. He’s cursed by the gods, and guilty of murder. You want somebody like that on your side?”

“Who did he kill?” Asked Percy.

“Don’t change the subject!” Minos spat, a confirmation that he was talking bull, really. “Stop hindering Nico. Don’t persuade him to abandon his goals!”

“We’re helping Nico,” you touched your dagger tucked away in the pocket of your pants. “He’s a child. Leave him alone.”

The ghost settled by Nico’s ear, leaning down to mutter. Nico visibly flinched and squeezed his eyes shut. “Don’t listen to them, Nico. Let me protect you, not them. I’ll turn them to madness as I did the others. Just say the word.”

If Minos wasn’t already dead, you swore, you’d have killed him there and then.

“Was it you?” Barked Percy. “Did you hurt Chris Rodriguez?”

Minos rolled his eyes lazily, turning around to face Percy. He got in real close to his face; Percy’s arm shot out in front of you and urged you backwards, away from the vile ghost. “The maze is my property,” he hummed. Percy refused to back away. “Those who intrude on it deserve madness.”

Nico turned furious, whether at Minos’s lecturing, or his interrupting. Either way, he turned to the ghost and ran him through with his sword. “Go away, Minos! Leave us!” His voice turned sad and desperate, like he was tired of this too. “Bianca! Come on!”

It was heart-wrenching, watching Nico beg for his dead sister. It wasn’t fair.

But she’d heard him. Bianca came forth, a silvery wisp of light from the dark trees in the distance, growing closer. You didn’t feel wary of her, and Percy dropped his sword, Nico backed away to give her space, and Grover shuffled away from the edge as Bianca knelt to accept the offering in the pit. When she got to her feet, she was a solid hue of silvery-blue form, the image of herself in life. It was like the chatter grew quiet, the chaos turned silent, when Bianca smiled sadly at her brother. Nico had grown still, and pale.

He wasn’t the first one she spoke to, though. “Hello, Percy,” said Bianca, her voice like a lullaby. Her body flickered like the stars would, before it stilled.

“Bianca…” One look at Percy had you reaching for his hand, clasping it between both of yours. He was choked up. You didn’t blame him one bit—you hadn’t known Bianca well at all, and she’d killed herself in the process of saving you all, but even seeing her again like this had your throat burning. “I’m—I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologise for, Percy. I made my choice.” Somehow, she seemed older, calmer, and a whole lot more at peace, as if this didn’t phase her and her death was simply an article she’d read in a paper and let pass over her, at the back of her mind. “I don’t regret it, either.” Her eyes, a mirror of Nico’s own, fell on you. What did you look like to her, you wondered later? Holding back your own teary eyes the way Percy did.

She turned to face her brother quickly, and his name fell from her lips. She turned sad.

“Oh, Nico.” She raised a hand to cover her mouth. “You’ve gotten so tall.”

“Why didn’t you answer me any sooner!” He exclaimed. “I’ve been trying to find you for months!”

“I was hoping you’d give up, Nico. Please give up.”

Heartbroken, Nico reached for her, but his hand passed right through. “Give up?…I’d never!”

“I need you to do this, Nico. Trust Percy. Trust her.”

“No! She let you die! They’re not our friends!”

Bianca’s ghostly hand reached out to touch Nico’s cheek, but she fizzled out too quickly, and never made contact with him. “You must listen to me now, because this is important. Holding grudges is bad for children of Hades. It’s our fatal flaw, and you must forgive.”

“I can’t. I’ll never.”

Bianca struggled, exhaled. Her eyes betrayed every feeling in her body—anguish, anger, sadness. “Percy has been worried for you, Nico. I let him see what you were up to so that he could help you. You understand, don’t you?”

“It was you, then,” shuddered Percy. “You were sending me those messages.”

Bianca nodded softly. “I was.”

Nico demanded her attention. “No, listen!” He screamed and went to grab at her again. “Don’t help him! Help me! This isn’t fair!”

Bianca kneeled to be face-to-face with Nico. “You’re so close to the truth now, Nico. Believe me. It isn’t them you’re angry at; it’s me. And it’s okay to be angry, do you understand? You’re allowed to be upset—”

“No!” He heaved a great cry.

“You’re mad because I left you, to join the Hunters. And you’re so angry because I died and left you here. It wasn’t my intention, and I’m sorry.” Bianca’s voice turned thick with emotion. “But you must try to accept this, now. I cannot come back. And you must stay with them.” She nodded at you and Percy.

“I just want you back,” Nico sobbed. Bianca, on her knees, looked as if in a great deal of pain. She swallowed hard, and her voice was shaky.

“You can’t have that, Nico. This is how it has to be. And one day, we’ll be reunited again properly. Trust me. Believe in that. I’m never too far away, even when you can’t reach me. But for now, you have to let me go. Can you do that for me, Nico? You’re so strong…you’re so brave.” She turned suddenly to look over her shoulder at something the rest of you couldn’t see. “I must go now. Your powers are attracting unwanted attention. I have to go back.”

“Wait!” A terrible, pained cry ripped from Nico’s throat. “Please don’t go!” He heaved. “Please stay! Don’t leave me here!”

“I love you, Nico.”

You understand Bianca then, and her decision. It was why you dropped Percy’s warm hand and took up Nico’s cold, limp one. He heaved and cried, and didn’t protest when you lay your free hand on the side of his head, and gently pulled him to you. You raised your gaze from Nico’s teary, reddened eyes, squeezed tightly shut, to Bianca’s mirrored gaze. A single, shiny tear trailed down her translucent face, and you tried to convey one last message: Nico would not be alone.

She nodded slowly, and sniffled once. Getting to her feet, Bianca managed a sad smile, and lowered her eyes to Nico once more. He was the last thing she saw, as she trailed out of the mortal world for the final time. Bianca di Angelo simply faded away.

Just because she’d told him to trust you, didn’t mean he trusted you right away. That night, Nico sat out on the porch alone, talking to somebody that wasn’t there, crying to himself. You’d tried to talk to him, but had no luck. Nico demanded to be left alone, so you left him. When you returned two hours later, he’d fallen asleep on the bench, a hand tucked under his cheek. Percy dug out a blanket from one of the bedrooms upstairs, and you’d covered Nico over as the night air grew chilly. Your heart felt heavy, but the day’s trials didn’t prevent you from falling asleep quickly. The boys took the sofas downstairs, and you picked a spot at the bay window with a comforter and pillows. Sleep took you the second you laid down your head.

Your mother decided it was a good time to pop up and say hello, apparently.

You recognised the setting immediately as New York’s Public Library. Beyond the windows lining either two walls, the sky was black as could be, no stars or anything showing through. The lights and the slightly dusty chandeliers on the ceiling of the grand roof were golden, more yellow than usual, and the tables stretching the length of the hall were empty as could be, the dark stretch of tile down the middle aisle echoing your footsteps the further you walked.

At the end of the wall, standing beneath the clock small in the grand wall, was a tall lady, casual as could be in jeans and a pretty sweatshirt. This didn’t defer her from wearing a sword in a scabbard at her hip. Long, light hair was tied back in a practical bun, tight and secure. In her hands was a heavy book, and her brilliant gray eyes scanned it furiously. She didn’t look up from it until you’d paused at her side, peering up at the taller woman, admiring her. Strange, how the gods technically had no DNA, and yet you were her mirror image. The same jawline, the same nose, definitely the same eyes. She was pretty, really pretty, and she carried herself with confidence.

It would have been nice to be acknowledged, however similar you were.

“Mom?” You voiced into the quiet library air.

“Chapter eighteen of The Iliad—what do you know of it?”

You raise your eyebrows, curiously. “I don’t know off the top of my head, exactly. There’s a fight over Patroclus’s body, isn’t there? Real dramatic, like. They’re worried about going to fight the Trojans. Achilles worries about the outcome of Patroclus going out to join the fight.”

“Do you notice any similarities between this and our life?” She quips. Your mom huffed at something she read, and snapped the book shut. The cover was battered leather, the title almost rubbed away. It was old, but no dust rose from it.

You shrug, and feel somewhat nervous. “We’re history repeating itself?” You offer. “Is this to do with Bianca, last night? The fight over what happened to her, fighting over what she wanted for her end?”

Mom hummed, and threw the book over her shoulder. You had a sudden desire to catch it, but as you went to grab it, as it hit your hands, heavy as hell, it disappeared, as though she’d never thrown a thing. Your mother turned to watch you, bringing your brows together, spinning in a circle to look for this damn book like a stupid dog chasing its tail.

“The fight for life is always happening,” said mom, factually. “What happened to Bianca di Angelo was a negligible accident. She could have been saved.”

Frozen, you shakily exhaled. Gray met the mirror image.

“She could have been saved, but it was her destiny. You understand, don’t you, daughter? That what is meant to be is meant to be. So even though you could have saved her life one way or another, she was supposed to die.”

You scoff, and surprise yourself at the burning in your eyes. “People aren’t supposed to just die, mom. When their time comes, when they’re old, then sure. Not like this.”

“Was it not Bianca’s time? Who decides when it is right to die?”

“What’s the point of this?” You snap. “Did you bring me here just to take a dig at me?”

“Everybody has their time. I’m here to tell you to your friend that he should stop meddling in things. Leave things well alone.”

“Great advice. After we’ve sorted things. Bit late to the party.”

“Not entirely.” She tilted her head. “Before I go, just one thing—tell Percy Jackson to let the dead rest, when the time comes.”

“That’s ominous.”

“That’s life,” mom hummed. “I’ll let you go, now. The boy is trying to wake you up.”

When you come to, Percy is knelt beside you. Sunrise is in your eyes, and Nico is shouting downstairs. You gather your things, and prepare to make your way back into the maze.

—

TAGLIST

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@randomesthings @fratbrochrisgf

[lifeiskentastic]

Ken x gn!Reader as friends to lovers story

A/n: my first fic on tumblr… and hopefully not the last;) also english is my second language so if you notice a mistake please write to me about it, 'cause i'm just learning and this will help me a lot.

Summary: A real world reader finds a box of vinyl records in Ken's house, which leads to an unexpected turn of events.

Genre: fluff, comfort, friends to lovers;

Song played in fic: Biggest Part of Me by Ambrosia;

World count: 805 words;

Hope you enjoy!

***

"Ken, can I borrow this, please?"

You point to a small box in the corner of Ken's House (and yes, as it turns out, it does really exist), right by the entrance. Although it may look small at first glance, if you take the lid off, you'll be genuinely surprised at how much can this thing hold. How many music records can this thing hold.

"Mmm," Ken turned to you in confusion, distracted from the very important task of destroying all available books about patriarchy (only those that mentioned horses survived).

As soon as Ken realized what you were pointing at, he jumped up and ran over to you.

"Oh, this thing..." He exhaled heavily, as if he didn't know how to describe it: "I brought it from your world... I haven't figured out how to use it yet. But it was fun to play with it in Frisbee, though."

You had to hold back your giggles, knowing full well that the box contained not a Frisbee but rather vinyl records of 80s rock hits.

"Ken... Don't worry, I know what it is, and unfortunately, I wouldn't recommend playing with it."

Ken looks at you in confusion, waiting for an explanation.

"Then what does it do?" Now his face was full of curiosity.

"Oh, it's music." You bit your lip, already anticipating that wave of the cutest delight in the entire universe on Ken's face. "My favorite music, for real. What a coincidence!"

"Ah, so that means we can listen to these little flat wheels?"

As difficult as it was, you still controlled your laughter because you didn't want to hurt your friend's feelings.

"Huh... Yes, Ken, wait a minute, I'll play you something."

You had noticed beforehand that the box contained a modern vinyl record player. The only question was where Ken had gotten it from, but you decided to put that aside for later. There are more important things to do now. For example, the culturalization of the inhabitants of Barbieland for unselfish purposes (or one particular inhabitant of Barbieland for, to be honest, a little bit of selfish purposes)

You could feel Ken's intrigued look on your back as you conscientiously chose which song to start your immersion in the deep culture of the 80s. Of course, you chose the one you thought Ken would like the most. Of course, it was a love song.

As the playful melody began to play on the record player, you were very pleased with yourself. But Ken was still on edge. So you wisely decided to relax him a little.

When the first words of Biggest Part of Me by Ambrosia touched your ears, you gently led the surprised Ken into a dance, grabbing him around the waist with one hand and intertwining your palms with the other. He was a little confused, but he quickly realized what was going on and began to follow your movements. His puzzlement turned into a gentle, homely smile, and those two crystal blue eyes look that always gave you goosebumps.

"It's a nice song." He spoke calmly and quietly, though there was no need for that. "Make a wish, baby, and I will make it come true."

He began to sing along to the beat of dance, which suddenly gave him control of the situation.

"I finally found someone who believes in me." Ken kept staring at you, still smiling gently. "I need your love here, next to me."

It seemed as if with every turn in the dance, your faces were getting closer together. And when you felt that you were crossing the line between friendly dancing and something closer and more romantic, you had to stop it. But you didn't want to.

"You're the biggest part of me".

Immediately after these words, Ken stopped singing. He thought for a moment and then confidently proclaimed:

"Hmm, really," he raised his eyebrows as if he had come to some brilliant conclusion, "I really feel like you are the biggest part of me."

You had to swallow because something strange and incomprehensible was preventing the answer from coming out of your throat. However, when you felt your cheeks burning, you realized that this strange and incomprehensible feeling was embarrassment. A very unusual kind of embarrassment, the kind that you shouldn't normally feel towards a friend.

"M-m", You understood that Ken was waiting for your answer, so you gathered all your willpower into a fist and said, "I feel something similar, Ken."

Ken's smile grew bigger, and his joy radiated from him like rays from the sun.

"I'm, ah, glad to hear that... Does that mean we can continue dancing?"

You smile back. Ken was charging you with positivity just by being there.

"Of course, Ken, as much as you want!"

You were both ready for the next song.

Thanks for reading! I'd also love to hear your ideas for the next Barbie fic, so see ya.)

***

[roleplay-evil]

Resident Evil 7 Biohazard Starters

"You know what they say—once family, always family."

"You're part of the family now."

"Welcome to the family, [name]."

"That's family business, [name], and not your concern, understand?"

"This is my home. Apparently, I belong here."

"So, why are we in hell this time?"

"They're relying on me. Everyone is relying on me. Everyone!"

"You don't exactly seem like you're playing with a full deck yourself."

"Goddamnit, how am I gonna replace this?"

"Ah, shit! I knew I shouldn't have worn my good shoes."

"You came to the wrong house, [name]."

"I told you to stay out of here."

"Alright, new deal. We-we find [name] and we go."

"You, my friend, you are one lucky son of a bitch."

"I'm sorry... but they're, uh, they're dead now."

"Yeah, it is your fault. But that doesn't mean I'm gonna let you die."

"You kill me, and I just come right on back!"

"I'm going to enjoy watching you die."

"Motherfucker! You were supposed to die!"

"Sure as shit beats the hell outta dying."

"Idiot—you can't kill me."

"Do me a favor and stay dead."

"Leave me to die!"

"Forget that you ever knew me."

"Come on—don't you die on us now. You have work to do."

"You don't understand or is it that you just don't care?"

"Don't worry, I'm still here."

"Now, we got several calls about some missing persons lately."

"[name]! Thank god I found you. It's me. It's [name]!"

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead! It's time for supper."

"Glad I had my shots."

"You better now?"

"Well, come on. Take a chance. You never know."

"That is not groovy."

"What the fuck? That's special."

"You can't hide from me, [name]!"

"Don't you go anywhere!"

"Alright, you little cocksucker, let's get down to business!"

"I know you and [name] are plotting. I know you are scheming."

"Where'd you get yourself to, hm? Where are you?!"

"Thought you'd just slip out before dinner was done?"

"It won't be long before I find you and kill you."

"I'm gonna squash you like a bug."

"You think you can hurt me?"

"You're going to wish you'd never been born."

"I'm gonna take you for a ride!"

"This is going to be fun. Just you wait."

"You're gonna die in this hole and you're gonna like it!"

"Fuck it! I'm gonna kill every one of you."

"I will find them and I will make them suffer."

"You better start running, [name]!"

"They're dead! They're all dead!"

"I can't let [name] catch me again!"

"What's wrong? Step on it!"

"You're the first I've ever seen make it this far."

"Gotta say, I'm impressed. Not only are you still alive, you have all your fingers and toes."

"You're gonna have to do better than that, [name]."

"You're wasting your time."

"Here I come."

"You need to go. I won't be able to resist for much longer."

"You gotta give me your gun!"

"Oh! Good news! I'm going to be coming home soon! Yay!"

"Who the hell else was I gonna choose?"

"Are you having fun yet?"

"You got yourself a booboo?"

"I told you, don't you fuck with me."

"Not now. We need to get out of here first."

"You were right. I did lie to you."

"You gotta earn your way, [name]!"

"What is this place? What did they do to you?"

"There's another door here. I'm sure of it."

"You're a son of a bitch!"

"Now look what you've done, motherfucker!"

"Fuck you and the horse you rode in on."

"Kiss my ass."

"Dumb son of bitch wouldn't know good if it hit them!"

"Goddamnit! I bet it's that cop again..."

"I only work with professionals."

"I'm an old man, [name]. You can't take on an old man?"

"Hey! One of those is mine."

"Why are you putting me through this?"

"Well, don't just stand there—do something!"

"I know I can't expect anything from you. Not after what happened. After what I did."

"I am sick and tired over being sick and tired of your bullshit."

"I'm tired of waiting."

"It has taken me weeks to finish this, and it is finally ready. And it's all for you."

"What the fuck are you, [name]?"

"I got the gift running all through me! All through me!"

"I don't understand you at all. This is a gift."

"There are known unknowns here, and you are not paying fucking attention!"

"Do I have your attention, [name]? You're about to see something wonderful."

"We love you... Why can't you see that?!"

"Why does everyone hate me?"

"You see, [name], not everybody wants to turn back the clock."

"This joy? Why, you can't fake this."

[tempests-bards-and-birds]

venti

I’m sure you don’t talk about him enough ; )

ah anon. you know me so well. anyway *cracks knuckles* here we go

how i feel about this character: i think about this character so much it's probably worrying. he's just so complex and compelling - from the moment you first meet him you realise that he has a really unique relationship with the world in general, and just. every time he makes an allusion to something that he doesn't expand upon either because he feels he shouldn't yet or because he's perhaps trying to protect himself i simultaneously want to throw him in the horse plinko and hug him. how do you even live after the first person who was ever really your friend, whose wish was to see the sky from beyond the barrier that was made by a god, dies after you fought for that with him and barely even got a glimpse of the freedom that he strived so hard for. how do you live after you take his form when you end up becoming the very thing that was the cause of your friends' suffering because you maybe feel that it's the only way to keep his ambition and hope for freedom living on after he died because maybe having a god's ideal be a human's wish for freedom is one of the only ways to negate the inherent respect that godhood commands but also probably because you just can't bear to let him go, at least for a period. how do you- *gets dragged forcibly off-stage*

all the people i ship romantically with this character: i can appreciate a lot of the popular venti ships however the only two that have ever really appealed massively to me are xiaoven and zhongven. you can see my post for this ask game about xiao for some my thoughts on xiaoven (i can elaborate if need be though) but for zhongven i just find their relationship sooo fascinating. they've lived through wars together, so chances are they've seen each other do utterly unspeakable things, and even that by itself can produce a very close kind of relationship. on the surface they're polar opposites but when you actually think about it they are fundamentally quite similar, despite their opposing natures. idk something something about a mountain that can erode and change but won't fall or move and the wind that comes and goes as it pleases but can still change it's course and can still come to rest sometimes. you get it right

my non-romantic otp for this character: *chanting* venti and jean. venti and jean. venti and jean. venti and jean-

ok but in all seriousness i just think that explorations of jean's religious devotion to barbatos being put under insane amounts of duress after the events of the mond archon quests very interesting. what do you do when you find out that the god that you devoted your entire life to is not just a concept and is, in fact, a person who's probably pretty depressed. idk. "met god and he's just some guy" type shit

my unpopular opinion about this character: uhhh i can't really think of anything right now? maybe how i actually think he's way more moon-coded as a character than sun-coded but i don't see many people on here actually talking about that so idk

one thing i wish would happen/had happened with this character in canon: hehe. haha. forced barbatos reveal to all of mondstadt babyyyyy i feel like backing him into a corner and stopping him from running away from his problems so much would be good for him in the long run

[waywardsalt]

uhhhhh a bit ago for a class i had to write a short story and then i wrote 20 pages in like three weeks which i havent done in forever. and i like it too so. heres what i would consider the 'final' fully edited version of that short story

Miséricorde

(Includes brief animal death and self-harm)

                Misericorde, misericorde. A sleek dagger with a long, slim blade. The weapon of a mercy killer, secured firmly to the traveling surgeon’s belt.

The surgeon held tight onto the misericorde’s polished hilt, gazing into the passing trees as she walked. With night soon falling, a place to set up camp was sorely needed. Collecting water was also appealing— a lake or a river would be nice. She’d been on the road for hours.

The surgeon sighed to herself. She started going through the pouches at her belt. Vials, her jar, her tools… She straightened up as she heard the distant creaking of wheels. She began to jog back the way she came and spotted a carriage pulled by a pair of large horses. Likely a merchant company, she realized, seeing crates in two of the three carriages following the first.

The leading carriage neared her, and the surgeon raised an arm and shouted, “Hoy there!”

The coachman jerked his head up and tugged the horses to a slow stop. She strode over, giving a short bow. “Apologies for any inconvenience, sir. Are you the leader of this…”

She trailed off, and the coachman, a gruff-looking man with tanned skin and a bushy beard, said, “Caravan. We’re a caravan, miss. Travelin’ merchants. What d’ya need?”

The surgeon clasped her hands behind her back. “Nothing urgent, sir, I merely just wish to ask if I may join your company for a time.”

“Ah, well.” The coachman slid off the bench and onto the ground to stand before her- he stood just a few inches shorter than her. “’m sure he’ll wanna know why we stopped…” He looked sheepish, then eyed the surgeon suspiciously. “Who’re you? ‘m name’s Kestral.”

“A traveling doctor, heading from town to town to aid any in need,” she briskly explained.

A man hurried over; Kestral stepped aside as an older man with close-cropped hair and a stern face reached them and peered at the surgeon. He narrowed his eyes at her, then at Kestral, who shrugged. “She says she’s a doctor, askin’ to travel w’ us.”

“I’m Elric,” the man simply said to the surgeon. “You certainly look the part of a traveling doctor. We aren’t opposed to picking up hitchhikers, so long as you earn your keep.”

“Oh of course, Elric sir.” The surgeon bowed again. Her hair was tied tightly back, and with her deeper bow, it fell into her face. She paused to brush it behind her shoulder before continuing. “I will offer my services freely when they are needed— I’ve just been walking a long while.”

“W-well.” Elric crossed his arms, looking a bit off-put. “Ma’am, you’re free to stay with us, so long as you cause no problems. Come, come with me, you look… exhausted.”

The surgeon was led to the second carriage and invited on, and hardly a moment after she laid eyes on her companions, the carriage began to move. She gave Elric a thin smile and turned to the others in the wagon. “I am pleased to meet you all.”

They stared at her, and Elric cleared his throat and introduced her quickly. A young man— vaguely resembling Elric— sat up. “Greetings, miss. You can call me Tash.” All of those in the carriage began to introduce themselves, and the surgeon patiently took note of all of their names and faces. Tash was a brown-haired youth, appearing related to Elric in some way. Sitting close together were a pair of ordinary merchants; West, a man looking to be nearing old age with graying hair, and Jassine, an older woman with world-weary features. The final two passengers were a pair of lightly armored women standing at the end of the carriage. One was Emm, with short black hair and her arms crossed over her chest, and the other was Lissen, red-haired and with an almost dreamy look in her eyes— the two caravan guards, Elric explained.

The silence returned when the introductions were finished, and the surgeon turned her gaze to the landscape they passed. The sunset painted the sky with fiery hues, and she found herself drawn to the deep reds she could see closer to the horizon.

“Uh, miss?” The surgeon turned; Tash was peering at her, leaning closer. The others in the carriage were looking at her. She felt a faint spark of dread. “You didn’t tell us your name.”

Ah. She shut her eyes a moment and suppressed a chuckle. She opened her eyes and shook her head. “You may just call me ‘doctor’. Through all of my travels, my name has admittedly been worn away and eroded from my memory.”

An easy, rehearsed lie. She privately judged their reactions. Tash looked curious, still, but satisfied. Elric had fixed her with a hard, inscrutable stare, and both Emm and Lissen raised an eyebrow. West easily accepted her answer and Jassine just gave a short hum. None of them pried further, and she turned her gaze back to the sky.

It was late in the night when they stopped. The front horses were kept reined to the first carriage, while the extra brought along by the back of the caravan were given a great deal of slack to wander. The surgeon trailed after the group when they dismounted the carriage and began unloading items from the third wagon. Sleeping bags, foodstuffs, a variety of items to set up camp. She helped without a word, and Tash thanked her when she joined him in starting the fire.

She used her misericorde to cut short some twigs they used. The dagger’s blade gleamed, but Tash’s eyes were drawn to the strange greenish hilt, dotted with specks of red. “I’ve never seen a tool like that,” he whispered. “What’s it made from?”

“I don’t rightly know,” the surgeon lied. “I picked it up in a town a few months back.” She tightened her grip on the bloodstone hilt. “It may be polished and painted wood, for all I know.”

Talk around the fireplace was lively. West prepared a meal for the merchants, and Elric discussed trade with Jassine. The surgeon listened in— they were textiles traders, starting from the far-off town of Corphen on a southern island. A few times, the topic of religion came up.

Tash was sitting apart from the rest. The surgeon settled down next to him. “You are Elric’s son, are you?”

“Did he tell you?”

“No. There is a resemblance. I’ve an eye for such things.”

“Oh.” Tash studied the grass at his feet. “You’re a doctor?” He stared at her clothing. “Is the white so it’s easy to see blood?”

“So it’s easy to see grime. I require my equipment to be clean in order to effectively treat wounds.” She brushed dirt off her jacket. “Foot travel is unappealing to me, as you can imagine.”

Tash was open with her as they conversed. The surgeon idly rubbed the bloodstone pommel of her dagger. He seemed the kind of person vulnerable to the harsher aspects of the world, but he was a kind soul without question. And yet his father’s eyes periodically fixed upon the surgeon for mere heartbeats at a time. Tash’s open kindness was certainly not an inherited trait.

They slept under the stars and woke with the rising sun. The two guards seemed constantly alert. Jassine returned to the carriages to check on the merchandise, and Kestral was off inspecting the horses. Tash was the last to wake, and Elric took him to the second carriage. The surgeon watched them go, then turned to West.

“How did you happen to acquaint yourself with Elric?”

The older man grunted in a good-natured manner. “Elric’s decently known ‘round these parts. We’re on the way to Nariko City, o’ course, and he ‘n his son hails from there. Bit of an up-and-coming name. Figured I’d get t’ know him in case he strikes gold.”

The surgeon nodded sagely and raised an eyebrow as she caught a glimpse of the skin uncovered by West’s rolled-up sleeve. “That’s a fresh-looking cut you have there.”

He blinked and peered at it. “Eh, this? It’ll take more than that t’ stop these old bones, nothing t’s worry about, miss doctor.”

“Know that I can tend to it if it becomes worse.”

“’Course. That’s your job, ain’t it?”

Tash and his father stayed in the second carriage for the rest of the day. The caravan moved on and the surgeon settled into the third carriage with the others. Jassine was the one to spark conversation with her, the surgeon careful with her words while they seemed to tumble out of Jassine, the woman having been an adventurer in her youth and now uses her experiences to craft unique textiles.

Still, at no point during the day did the surgeon feel particularly welcome in the group. They stopped for the night and again Tash struck up conversation with her. She was merely passing through, and despite her indulgence of Tash’s extroverted traits, was uninclined to share much about herself, as with Jassine.

The next morning, while helping inspect the carriage wheels, Jassine brought up the subject of gods.

“I take it you’re a religious woman?” Jassine asked, causing the surgeon’s heart to skip a beat. “Most people are. I’ve yet to meet someone who altogether denies the existence of the gods.”

“It’s only logical,” the surgeon quietly replied. “The magic in this land is the easiest proof, and we have those able to channel the power of their patron gods when needed. Why ask? I believe in these gods, but in my time traveling, having brushed against so many religions that I find it difficult to commit to one.”

Her words were lies, and they were ones that made her shiver. Her flesh, her blood, her bones, they knew her words to be lies, but they were lies that made her inwardly shudder. The weight of misericorde at her hip brought her back from her brief despair— it was silly to worry about such things, not when she so dearly believed in forgiveness.  She took a deep breath. “Are you a religious woman?”

“I am. A believer in the mother of the arts, the weaver of textiles and the painter of canvases and the writer of tales. You’ve heard of her?”

“Of course. I hear of many gods and beliefs in my travels.” The mother of the arts. An admirable goddess; the surgeon, on occasion, provided offerings to the mother of the arts, as someone with an earnest respect for creative pursuits. “The mother of arts suits you in your trade. Was there a different god you paid respects to in your time of adventure?”

Jassine scoffed and shook her head. She rubbed her fingers against a wheel spoke, then sighed, “Perhaps, but I didn’t pay as much mind to gods in those times.” She glanced over her shoulder before continuing, “I never told this to Elric, truthfully. I doubt West would care much, bless his easygoing heart, and Tash is such a kind boy. But Emm and Lissen have worked for Elric for years, and Elric himself is pious to a fault. Not the most tolerable man, really.”

“I know the type,” the surgeon murmured, her careful tongue slipping and allowing the depths of her misery and spite coat her words. The look Jassine gave her was thankfully understanding. The surgeon’s hand curled around the misericorde’s hilt, and she recomposed herself. “In any cause, Kestral will be pleased to know that the wheels are in perfect condition.”

It was that night, as they were preparing to sleep, when West pulled the surgeon off to the side. He didn’t speak, but the surgeon already knew what was on his mind; she’d treated enough patients to know the look of a man with a soured wound. He rolled up his sleeve and she recognized the look of a blossoming infection and guided him to lay down in one of the carriages.

She alerted the rest of the caravan before she began— there were looks of worry, the oldest member of the caravan having a wound nearing infection, but Jassine and Tash appeared to have confidence in her as she announced that she would tend to him to the best of her ability.

Elric followed her back into the carriage to watch.

She’d had audiences for her surgery before. Even audiences as stern as teachers strictly grading her work, and audiences as primordially observant as her goddess.

Before she laid out her supplies, the surgeon mouthed a prayer to her goddess.

Mercy, please, grant him mercy.

Bottles, syringes, jars, scalpels… all items from her pouches that she laid out on the carriage floor, all items that Elric eyed with suspicion.

“Have you never seen a surgeon work?” she asked, unable to hide her amusement at his scowl. “I should hope a merchant such as you would be at least familiar with some of these tools.”

“Just get to work,” he gruffly mumbled, and the surgeon did just that.

Her hands were steady and experienced. The last tool she withdrew was her misericorde with the bloodstone hilt, the polished silver blade glinting in the moonlight. West looked nervous; Elric stared at it with an unreadable expression. She set it down next to West’s arm and got to work on the wound.

She soaked a rag in disinfectant and cleaned the wound, ignoring the man’s pained groan as she soaked his cut and cleared away any dirt. It was a simple treatment, and she felt calm and comfortable picking through her bottles of ointment and stock of bandages. The wound was clean and needed to be dressed and wrapped, but before she moved on, the surgeon lifted her misericorde. “I need to create a small cut to help the infected blood escape.”

“Go ahead, ma’am.” West looked away, and the surgeon opened a small cut just below the bottom of the gash with a precise flick of her wrist. Blood leaked out, and she desired to ask him if she may draw extra blood with a syringe, but it was not the appropriate time. So, she moved quietly on to the final wound-dressing.

The ointment was meant to be cold against skin, and West hissed as she spread it in and on the wound. Once his skin was slick with the medicine, she began to wrap his wound in bandages.

“I need to check on this every night until this heals. If we reach town and it is still healing, find a doctor there to check on it.” West nodded obediently, and the surgeon tied off his bandages.

She gathered up her supplies and sheathed her misericorde, feeling Elric’s eyes follow her every movement. His suspicion hung over her for a long while after that night she treated West.  

A few days later, it was pouring rain. The horses pulling the carriages were large beasts with thick fur, bred for strength and stamina, animals the surgeon had scarcely seen.

But they were horses all the same.

So, when the trail became wet and slippery, and one of the horses stumbled at the edge of the ditch and fell, the crack of a broken bone reaching those in the second carriage, the surgeon prepared herself to carry out her misericorde’s core purpose.

Elric and the two guards hopped off the carriage, and the surgeon followed with her hood pulled on. Kestral was cursing, having stopped at the edge of the ditch. The horse writhed in the mud, its eyes rolling wildly in pain and distress. One of its forelegs was bent at an awkward angle. Elric scowled and crossed his arms over his chest, and Lissen sadly murmured, “Poor thing. Kestral, I’ll help you situate another horse.” The coachman grunted and started to cut the fallen horse’s reins.

“Will you just leave it?” the surgeon asked, innocent curiosity in her voice.

“Nothin’ else t’ do,” Kestral grumbled, straightening. “The weather’s too bad t’ stick around.”

“I can dispatch it quickly.” The surgeon crouched at the edge of the ditch. “No point in leaving it to suffer.”

“…Go for it,” Kestral responded with a shrug. “’m sure it’ll thank ya.”

There was no further discussion, and the surgeon was left with the dying horse. The rain would make it nearly impossible to salvage any parts of the animal once it was dead, but it deserved mercy nonetheless. She carefully slid down into the muck beside the animal, careful to stay out of the way of its hooves and sat by its head. She removed the glove from her left hand and laid her bare palm on its neck. The horse stared up at her with glassy eyes.

The surgeon raised the misericorde and made a thin cut in the horse’s neck, and she pressed a finger against the cut. Blood welled up around her finger and she shut her eyes, focusing on the animal’s blood. Her own blood seemed to burn in her veins as it dimly communed with the horse’s.

Be at peace. I will grant you mercy, as is my sworn duty.

The horse slowly relaxed, its eye still fixed on her, but it quieted and stopped thrashing so much. The surgeon kept her fingers pressed against the cut, and she calmly positioned the misericorde’s blade above the horse’s eye. The blade was thin and long— designed for a swift and decisive kill.

The thrum of the rain seemed to dim around her as the surgeon drew in a deep breath and plunged the misericorde deep into the horse’s eye. The animal thrashed once, then went still. She gently ran her fingers through its soaked mane, then slowly drew the dagger’s blade out of the eye. As it exited the wound, the gleaming blade was coated in blood, but the rain washed that blood and gore off the metal, leaving the blade as clean as though it had been freshly forged.

A new horse was attached to the front carriage as the surgeon sent a prayer along with the dead horse’s soul. Forgiveness to the broken bone that had led to its merciful death— it had been a loyal and proud animal, the blood had told her.

Tash’s voice rose above the rain, calling to her that they were going to get going again. She called back that she would catch up to them.

The caravan traveled on without her, and the surgeon removed a jar from her belt- a jar the size of her hand, three-quarters full of blood. She wasted no time— she slashed the horse’s throat with the misericorde and held the jar up to the wound to collect blood. It was blood that carried the life of the horse and was shed as a result of mercy. Once the jar was full to the lip, the surgeon screwed the lid back on, stood and bowed deeply to the dead horse, and ran to catch up with the caravan. Misericorde, gleaming blade of mercy, was returned to its sheath.

They slept on the carriages as the rain continued, and the topic of religion returned. The surgeon rolled onto her side at the edge of the carriage and feigned sleep. Jassine, Emm, West, and Elric talked, while Tash was snoring softly and Lissen was alert at the edge of the carriage.

“I reckon the church in town oughta like our stock,” West declared. “I’ve heard they have a few churches in town, I might visit and pray to th’ god of trade.”

Jassine laughed. “Of course, gold and demand are at the forefront of your mind. I might see if they’ve got an altar to the goddess of the arts.”

“I’ve no need for churches,” Emm muttered. “I do all my praying on my own— Don’t give me that look, Elric. I know the father of battle is a touchy subject, but it’s what I believe.”

“Be careful with that,” Elric tersely replied. “You’ve heard about the crusades.”

The conversation quieted. The surgeon willed her breathing to slow. Elric spoke up. “We should go through our stock in the morning. Make sure there’s nothing that could be seen as blasphemous or profane. The word of the lord of law is spreading, as it ought to.”

Emm didn’t respond; the surgeon heard her stand and join Lissen. The surgeon knew of the lord of law, and he was a stern, strict god, hands-off with his belief of respect and hierarchy. It was while hoisting banners of the lord of law that soldiers had run her and her fellows out of their homes and decreed their beliefs as heretical. The old surgical scar on her abdomen itched.

Gods of law, goddesses of nature, lords and ladies of trade and art and speech and government. She’d studied as many as she could, and found that the wider a deity’s domain, the wider the reach of their religion. But the narrower that domain, the more intimate the prayer.

In the following morning, she observed Elric’s prayer for the first time. He prostrated himself on the ground, his flesh, blood, and bones belonging to his lord and therefore something not to tamper with. Many religions held that view. Your flesh, blood, and bones are sacred and therefore are not to be touched, altered, or manipulated.

It was understandable why he was so suspicious of her. A doctor, a surgeon, meddling directly with the flesh, blood, and bones, though, so far, with little tampering that crosses the lines etched by his beliefs. Doctors in service to the lord often worked with potions and tinctures; surgeons, at most, usually just stitched up wounds. Deeper meddling was frowned upon. The body was a sacred temple, not to be breached or split open under decree of the lord of law.

The surgeon, as everyone else was busy, declared that she needed to wash, and walked off into the forest to find a pond. The lord of law was not her lord. She prayed to the mother of blood and so worshipped the body in a different way— a way in which touch, alteration, and manipulation was forgiven and celebrated when it granted mercy, in whatever form it took.

She found a clean pond and stripped naked, laying everything at the base of a tree. The water was cool and reached up to her knees at its deepest point. Her first job after taking to the roads was to remove a tumor from a priest of the lord of law. He was an old man who knew who she was, but did not care. Much of what she did to cure him went against the popular doctrine, but as he’d said, there are many gods in the land, and to unflinchingly treat the word of the lord of law as stone-faced fact was plainly ignorant.

He'd spoken his mind. There had been a passion to him; a passion more suited to a follower of the mother of blood than the lord of law, though the surgeon knew herself that her cold demeanor was at odds with her beliefs. When she’d become a proper blood-sworn, there had been frenetic partying and celebration with her peers, but her own emotions had always been subdued and measured.

The surgeon had brought two items with her into the pond— her misericorde and her jar of blood. She would wash in the aftermath of her ritual.

Her first ritual was an anxiety-ridden one, but no more anxiety ridden than her first surgery or her initiation. The coven she’d lived with had been gentle and reassuring every step of the way. The surgeon sighed and shut her eyes as grief washed over her. As a blood-sworn she was bound to forgiveness, but she doubted she could find it in her to forgive the people that had driven her from her home and killed her brothers and sisters.

The jar and the misericorde lay on a half-submerged log. The surgeon unscrewed the lid of the jar and lifted it. The blood inside was from a myriad of sources; the dead horse, a bandit she’d killed, a company of patients she’d treated at the last town. Humans and animals, blood of the healthy and sick and dead. She lifted the jar and tipped her head back and drank the blood.

It was warm and thick, the metallic taste more than familiar to her after her many blood-sworn years. She started with small sips, then took larger gulps— drinking deeply until the jar was empty. Not a drop was wasted— though, if the ritual went well, she would be forgiven for any waste.

She traded the empty jar for her misericorde and straightened her back. The wind sent a chill through her body, and the surgeon eyed her surroundings, looking for the slightest rustling of a bush. More so now than ever, uninitiated witnesses would not be tolerated— if not just for her nudity, then for the way her practices had been marked as deeply profane. She lifted her misericorde and admired the shining metal and the dark stone handle.

Her skin was tanned, and her forearms and hands were riddled with small scars. Old cuts and slips of the hand from her time learning to use the scalpel and misericorde in surgical acts. The surgeon held her left arm straight out, and she rested the tip of the misericorde on the underside of her elbow.

She drew in one last long breath, and tore the sharp blade through her arm, slicing it open from elbow to wrist. Blood sprayed and pain shot through the limb, but she remained on her feet. Blood streamed down her skin and poured into the water around her, the cut so deep that in some places the white of bone shone through besides the glistening skin and muscle.

She bowed her head and watched the blood dissolve and disappear in the water as accepted tribute. The pain in her arm faded, and the wound was perfectly closed with nary a scar when the surgeon lifted her head. The mother of blood had accepted her ritual and blessed her with healing and the knowledge that she’d been aptly merciful in her work.

The surgeon waded into a deeper part of the pond and quickly washed herself, then hurried back to dry herself off and redress herself. It would be unwise to be gone for too long. The jar returned to its spot on her belt and the misericorde was returned to its sheath.

A bush rustled, and the surgeon shot up and tore the dagger from its place and didn’t relax as Tash sheepishly showed himself. “What do you think you’re doing?” the surgeon demanded.

“Y-you’re a follower of the mother of blood.”

“Give me a good reason not to slit your throat where you stand. What do you wish to do with that information? Trade it off to your father so he can have me executed as a heretic? Use what you’ve seen as blackmail? Speak.”

Tash held up his hands, his voice hoarse. “I’m sorry. I was just curious. I have no grudge against you. I don’t pray to any gods, and you’ve helped us so far. I promise to keep it a secret.”

The surgeon kept the dagger pointed at his chest and advanced closer to him. “See that you keep your word. You seem a kind soul; I hate to rid the world of your presence. Just know that while I am merciful and forgiving, that mercy can be ruthless.” She slowly put the dagger away, and they silently headed back to the caravan.

Neither of them spoke. Tash kept glancing her way, but with more curiosity than suspicion. The surgeon kept her eyes forward. There was a hitch in their step as the sounds of shouting drifted their way, and then they set off sprinting through the trees. Tash half stumbled through the undergrowth and the surgeon quickly left him behind with her more graceful dash.

The surgeon burst from the tree line upon a scene of bandits accosting the caravan, Emm, Lissen, and Kestral battling with them. The surgeon rushed to the nearest bandit— already engaged with Emm— and she wrapped an arm around his neck and sank the misericorde deep into his side. He grunted and fell as she released him with withdrew her blade, and Emm just gave her a short nod before joining Lissen. There were only a few bandits, but something about the weapons they wielded sent a shiver down the surgeon’s spine. Lissen had the sense to keep her distance.

Tash rushed into the carriage for safety. The surgeon slashed at the nearest bandit and managed to nick his throat- deep enough to reach the artery and cause blood to spray out. she breathlessly turned to Lissen as the bandit collapsed. “When did they show up?”

“They just got here, cocky bastards.”  Lissen sheathed her sword and nodded behind the surgeon. “Hardly capable. We’re already done. Thanks for your help, doctor— hm. Kestral looks hurt.”

The pair of them jogged over. With the body of a bandit slumped close by, Kestral was sitting against the first carriage. The surgeon lowered herself to the ground near him. “Let me see your wound, Kestral.” The coachman just groaned, and the surgeon gently lifted his hand away from his side. She hissed once she saw the wound. “Emm. Bring me one of the weapons.” The guard complied, and the surgeon started mentally considering her options.

When Emm presented the surgeon with the weapon, a plain dagger with a strange sheen, she scowled. “Ah, they used blessed weapons, wonderful. It would be helpful to know which god blessed them, that’s a waste of time now.” Kestral’s wound already had the smell of infection coming from it, and the skin and veins around it were turning a sickly green. “If I don’t work on this soon, he’ll die- please make sure I have space for this. I may need to operate on him— it looks like parts of that blade may have chipped off in the wound, likely another part of that cursed blessing.”

The surgeon hastily began setting out her tools, and ordered, “Find a cloth for him to lay on. I’ve seen such wounds before; there is only so much time before only magical solutions will work.” Emm complied and ran off without a word, while Lissen hung around. The surgeon glanced over at her. “Help me out here.”

Emm quickly found a plain cloth and laid it on the grass, and Lissen helped the surgeon move Kestral onto it. The two guards eyed the tree line, and the surgeon felt dread creep up on her as she cut away at Kestral’s shirt. “Please trust me, sir, I have the abilities to save you.”

He just nodded slowly, grimacing. The surgeon tensed as she heard footsteps behind her, but kept her focus on sorting her tools and thinking of how a normal surgeon could handle this— if even possible. Her eyes flicked up to Kestral’s pained face, and she tightly gripped her forceps and scalpel. With or without an audience, she would need to call on her blood-sworn blessings.

“Trust me,” she repeated, her voice strained as she became more aware of the rest of the caravan watching. She knew to inspect the wound- the basic treatment of applying disinfectant and numbing cream, and carefully checking the depth of the wound and extracting any metal. She’d treated wounds caused by blessed and cursed weapons before— her blood-sworn abilities gave her an advantage in meddling directly with her patients’ blood.

Once the wound was cleaned, the surgeon ‘accidentally’ slit one of her fingertips open. She could practically feel Elric leaning over her. Jassine and Tash sat on either side of Kestral. West was quietly tending to the horses. The surgeon drew in a long breath and worked faster. The poison was spreading quicker than expected, and she started to make small cuts with the scalpel along the infected veins, just barely remembering to numb each area— she would have to thank Jassine for talking to Kestral while she worked.

“Prayer may help,” Elric murmured, and the surgeon glanced briefly back at him. He shuffled over to sit next to her, in his hands a small white totem of the lord of law. “This poison is not natural to his body, and therefore throws off the law. The lord may help.”

“Sure,” the surgeon hissed, resolving to ignore him while she continued to open new cuts and apply medicine.

Nothing was helping.

Her hands stilled, and the weight of misericorde at her hip reminded her of her oaths. Of what she’d pledged herself to all those years ago, the god that she swore to provide mercy and forgiveness in the name of, the very reason why she’d made the ultimate show of faith and operated on herself in return for greater ability.

She met Tash’s eyes and reached for the dagger.

Mercy on this injured man, and forgiveness to the flesh that ails him.  

The surgeon drew the misericorde and deepened the cut in her finger, whispering, “Mother, aid me in my work once more.” Blood streamed from the cut, more so than was naturally possible. It didn’t matter who saw at this point, so long as they didn’t stop her.

She traced the coachman’s wound with her bloodied finger, a spark shooting through her arm as visceral connection was established. Kestral’s eyes shot open and met the surgeon’s, but through his blood she felt his tentative trust. She could trace his veins, find the path of the poison, and sense every detail she may need for her work. She doubted she would truly need to cut into Kestral’s body, instead just communing with his blood and flesh.

There was a furious bellow beside her, and Tash lunged past her to restrain his father. The surgeon steeled herself, blocking out the pious merchant’s angry shouting. The speed at which the vitriol towards her faith had spread still haunted her but she had rarely come into contact with anyone who harbored that vitriol and knew what she was.

She would have to thank Tash— no, not just Tash. Kestral, Emm, Lissen, Jassine, and West. Filtering out the poison and ensuring that it stayed out, she urged Kestral to stay still, continually impressing upon him that she only wished to help him. She traced the wound with her misericorde, and located the poison, dark blemishes among the vitality of the blood. Bizarre curses and blessings, highlighted by her desire for mercy. The desire that pulled her forward and kept her focused inward on the wound and the blood, compelling it to take ahold of the intruding poison and carry it back out.

Elric’s fingertips brushed her back, and she resisted the urge to turn and chastise him. Already she was seeing progress, a sheen joining the blood leaking from Kestral’s wound, and she quickly dabbed it up with a disposable rag. The cursing from Elric and the muttering from Tash urged her to work faster. “The poison is almost out,” she tensely reassured Kestral.

The color of the injured man’s veins returned to their normal color, and the surgeon kept her focus sharp until no more poison was extracted by the blood. She let out a shuddering breath and removed her bleeding finger from the wound. Kestral and all the others watching seemed to relax- Elric’s cursing had slowed down. She glanced back at him, taking in his scandalized expression. She turned back and sighed. “Kestral.” He winced. “I’m going to stitch up your wound.”

No protest. The surgeon got to work much more quickly than before, calm enough to talk. “When you reach the city, find a doctor and have them take a look at you. I promise you’ll live, but you will need to take care of this as it heals.” She paused, then added, “Do not tell them anything about me aside from my being a doctor. I am sure you know why.”

“Of course,” Jassine answered for him.

The surgeon stitched dutifully for a moment longer, contemplating what to do next. Threaten them? The reputation of her faith was bad enough. No, she would have to hold out hope that these good people would not sell her out. Elric, on the other hand…

Once the basic stitches were in place, the surgeon turned to face Elric, still held back in Tash’s embrace. The man began to speak, but she cut him off. “I care not what you think of me. Neither do I consider you to be in my debt. Understand that due to my faith, I am a woman of mercy and forgiveness, and I shall therefore forgive you for any hatred you hold towards me, despite the unfoundedness of that hatred.” She turned away and started to wrap bandages around Kestral’s waist, not wishing to waste any more breath on Elric.

She was pledged through the flesh, blood, and bones to heal in the name of the mother of blood, and her patient was more important than a man whose faith had turned him against her.

They reached Nariko city three days later. Kestral moved gingerly, but had, with the help of West and Jassine, taken good care of his wound. Elric had not spoken to her since she’d made her blood-sworn faith obvious— not that she wished to speak to him, anyways. Emm and Lissen flanked her as she stepped out of the carriage onto the city streets. Emm smiled at her, and Lissen just gave her a reassuring nod as she started off to leave.

She’d gotten where she needed to go and would move on once her job was done in the city. There was no reason to stick around with the caravan. It would likely pose a risk to her and her identity if she lingered.

The surgeon set off to find a hotel. She had messages to send and equipment to clean. She’d hardly taken a few steps as a hand on her shoulder prompted her to turn around. She was met by Tash’s melancholy smile. “…Thank you for saving Kestral. And… helping us. I’m sorry about my father. I swear to make sure he doesn’t endanger you and your identity.”

“Don’t be sorry. I forgive him, as I should. I hope you are successful in any of your future endeavors. I suspect you are one with a bright future.” With that, she turned back and walked off, adding over her shoulder, “Worry not about your father sharing news of a wandering blood-sworn surgeon. There are many like me, and you don’t even know my name.”

[selineram3421]

*screams into the void*

Isekai'd

Part 3: Presence of An Angel

Part 2

~

Vash (Tristamp) X Reader

Warning! ⚠

⚠ cussing-again, blood, all caps for screeching, Vash being a bit of a weirdo ⚠

The paper that smacked your face ended up being Vash's wanted poster.

Oh shit! This is so cool! You thought looking at the paper with sparkling eyes.

Eventually you had to put it away. You didn't want it to get messed up.

The coat you bought worked amazingly well, keeping you cool from the heat and protected from the random hot gusts of wind.

The Tomas you rented was slightly more blue than green. It was honestly fun though, probably the closest thing you got to riding a horse.

"I'm gonna name you Kevin!"

Then after a long while of riding through the desert in silence, you got bored.

I wish I had a music player. You sighed. Well I could just sing.

Singing for you only happened when no one was around. And since it was the desert, there was no one.

Yeah, why the hell not. You decided and started singing.

"I can't see where you're comin' from

But I know just what you're runnin' from

And what matters ain't the who's baddest but the

Ones who stop you falling from your ladder

When you feel like you're feeling now

And doin' things just to please your crowd

But I love you like the way I love you

And I suffer but I ain't gonna cut you 'cause

This ain't no place for no hero"

You sang out, geeking out a bit how this was the perfect song to sing in the desert.

Then the night rolled in and you had to stop, setting up camp after making sure the area was safe enough to do so.

"I hope there's no worms around.", you mumble while trying to figure out how to set up the tent. "How the fuck do I do this?"

Kevin was chilling out by the camp fire you made, sitting like a chicken resting in a nest, feathers all ruffled up to keep warm. Leaving the tent unmade, you make your way over to the Tomas and sit next to them, pulling your coat closed as you leaned back on them.

"Good night Kevin.", you pat the bird. "Peck anyone trying to rob or kill me.", you say with a yawn before knocking out.

✴

Blinking your eyes open, you saw the glass ceiling of a familiar ship.

"Ah fuck.", you grumble and sit up.

Why am I always lying down on the ground? You wonder.

Looking around, you find yourself alone.

Not wanting to sit around, you stand up and start walking. The flowers were swaying slightly, like a breeze just passed by recently. As you continued, you noticed that you were walking to the tree that you first woke up by.

Now standing under it, there was an odd need to close your eyes, so you did.

All of a sudden there was a tug on your clothes from behind. Turning to see who did it, you find a small boy with blonde hair, blue-green eyes, and a beauty mark just under his left eye.

"Wow.", you end up saying.

"Wow?", the boy repeats, tilting his head to the side.

"Oh, sorry!", you let out a small laugh and give him a closed eyed smile. "I just couldn't hold back my awe about how pretty your eyes are!"

What you don't see is the boy smiling at you.

✴

"How pretty.", you mumble, slowly blinking your eyes open.

Only to see blue-green eyes staring into yours.

"AAAAAHHHH!", you screech and kick the person in the face on instinct.

"AAH-OW!", the man yelps and holds his nose as he falls back.

You scramble to stand up, now wide awake and take in who the hell thought it was a good idea to watch you sleep.

"Ow ow ow OW!", the guy says in pain. "That really hurt!" He was curled up into a ball, squirming around like a worm out of the dirt. "Geez, you've got a good kick."

Blonde, red jacket, prosthetic arm- You listed off. Holy shit, I just kicked Vash The Stampede!

"Oh shit! Are you ok!?", you say and rush over, kneeling down next to him. "What the heck man, you shouldn't ever be that close to some sleeping stranger!"

"Now I know. Hahaha..", the blonde laughs and cringes in pain. "Thank goodness I didn't have my shades on."

You didn't notice that his signature yellow shades were off, but that didn't matter at the moment. "Let me see your nose.", you say and try to move his hands away.

"No no! Its bleeding and that's not a pretty sight.", he tries to wave it off.

"Oh please, I've seen worse.", you roll your eyes and move his hands. "Being a medic and all, there's a lot of gross things that I see."

He lets you move his hands a bit reluctantly.

You try your best not to blush when seeing all of his face.

Damn this man is beautiful.

His nose isn't broken from what you can tell, but it does need to stop bleeding.

"Excuse me for a moment.", you say and pinch the bottom of his nose. "Lean forward.", you say and guide him. "Can you hold your nose like this while I get something from my pack?", you ask.

He nods, staying in the position you told him to.

Letting him take over, you rush to your medic backpack and dig through it to find the cold compress that you made.

After getting it, you crack the rectangled compress like a glowstick and shake it. Making your way back to the blonde, you see that he's looking at the item in your hand curiously.

"Its like an ice pack.", you say and kneel down, carefully pacing it on his nose. "Sorry for kicking you in the face."

"Sorry for giving you such a spook.", he smiles.

Did not expect to meet the main character like this. You beat yourself up and cry internally. I kicked him in the face.

"Gotta keep it there for fifteen to twenty minutes.", you say and let him hold the cold compress.

It was early in the morning, the suns weren't even up yet but the sky was slowly turning a lighter blue.

Ah damn, I forgot to look at the starts last night. You frown, looking up at the sky. I've got tonight, so no worries.

Then you remember that the man in front of you was watching you sleep.

"Hey mister.", you look at him with a confused glare.

"Hm?", he looks up at you.

"Why were you watching me sleep?", you ask.

...

"Oh, hahahaha!", the blonde laughs nervously.

He'd probably be rubbing the back of his neck if his hands weren't busy. You thought.

"Its not every day you see a sleeping beauty!"

Brain functions are at a halt.

You look at him in shock.

Did he just-? The feeling of your face heating up creeps forward, and you even feel your ears turning red.

"I thought you were an angel! Hahaha!", he continues.

This mother fucker-! You feel yourself puff out steam from the top of your head. Wait, I can do that?

"What is this? You trying to sweeten me up so I don't beat the crap out of you?", you grumble.

He just smiles at you like the dork he is.

"Whatever.", you huff and get up.

Putting your camp stuff away, you tie the tent and sleeping cot onto Kevin's saddle. It being easier to have there than on your pack all the time.

.

Vash had been on the run again, narrowly escaping being shot at from behind.

It didn't take long for the sky to go dark.

After a few hours of walking in the desert, he noticed a camp fire in the distance. Hoping it was someone who could spare food, he made his way over.

"Hey there friend! Sorry to interrupt but could you-", he then paused after seeing that the person was out cold. "Ah shoot."

The Tomas they had turned to look at him, letting out a squawk.

"Hn.", the sleeping person started to shift.

"Ah! Sh! Shhh!", Vash hurriedly went over to keep the bird quiet. "Hey now, you don't wanna wake them up!", he whisper shouted.

The giant bird let out another shreak before pecking him on the head.

"Ow! Hey, I'm not doing anything!", he fought with the bird a bit before it finally stopped trying to hurt him. "Whew.."

Taking another look at the sleeping traveler, he saw that they were now lying on their back, face now visible.

As if in some sort of trance, he made his way over, kneeling down just to the side of them.

The camp fire went out but it wasn't long till the sky started lightening up, signifying that the suns would soon show up. The light seemed to help the sleeping beauty glow, as if they were a fallen star.

"Wow.", Vash mumbled in awe, taking his shades off to get a better look.

"How pretty."

He didn't noticed they woke up until they screamed.

"AAAAAHHHH!"

"AAH-!", he screeched but it soon turned into a yelp of pain. "OW!"

They kicked him in the face.

Poor Vash. But really, he should have been more careful.

~Seline, the person.

Next: Part 4

Taglist@

@summerdazed @+?

Song: Short Change Hero by The Heavy

ML Vash | ChL Isekai'd

[writingwhimsey]

Married to the Enemy- Shingen Ch. 5

Chapter 5

After returning to the inn from his date with Ava, Shingen made his way to the veranda, deciding to sit out and gaze up at the moon as he sipped on some good sake. His mind couldn’t help but to wander to the date he had spent with Ava.

It appeared his new bride was truly special. She seemed to truly care for others. She just wanted everyone to be happy. It must have been that drive to make others happy that led her to agree to an arranged marriage.

He had to admit he adored the way her face lit up when she talked about her work as a seamstress. She had looked so passionate and full of hope. He knew he would need to make sure she was able to work with the seamstresses in Echigo. “Maybe I’ll even be her first customer.” He murmured to himself as he sat silently making his plans.

Though Shingen had always wanted a loving wife and family, he had given up the hope of having those dreams realized long ago. He couldn’t imagine putting loved ones through a difficult ordeal. Yet it seemed the only way to bring true peace had been to ally with the Oda and that had meant entering into this marriage. Kenshin would never agree to such a thing and Shingen didn’t want to foist Yuki into an arranged marriage either. He wanted Yukimura to be able to have the life he wanted. So it seemed only natural for Shingen to take the role himself.

And though this was an arranged marriage, Shingen was going to make sure his wife was comfortable and happy. With whatever time he had remaining, he would make sure her days were happy and spent doing the things she loved.

A couple days later…

After what felt like a small eternity of traveling, we finally arrived in Echigo and were soon crossing the castle gates. When we arrived, what looked like a streak of black, blue, and white seemed to rush at us…well more specifically Sasuke.

“How dare you take so long to get back!”

Sasuke was nimbly jumping off of his horse and dodging the attack. He soon had to draw his own sword as the streak materialized into a strikingly beautiful man. “Lord Kenshin, please…” Sasuke protested with a calm face as he blocked a blow from the man.

“No. You took too long, especially when I didn’t give you permission to go in the first place.”

“I’m sorry Lord Kenshin, but I wanted to be there for my friend.” Sasuke replied.

“You deserve this for going against Lord Kenshin’s wishes and attending the wedding. I was all that was needed to attend in our lord’s stead.” Kanetsugu spoke.

I was watching all of this with a stunned expression on my face. That was when I felt Shingen’s large hand come to rest on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, this is just Kenshin’s way of showing he missed Sasuke.” He assured me.

I turned to look at Shingen, a perplexed look on my face. “Really?”

Shingen nodded. “Yes, he’s not very good at expressing himself without his sword.” He was then hopping down from the horse and offering me his hand. “Allow me to help you down, my goddess.”

I took Shingen’s offered hand and slid down from the horse, though I still couldn’t help but to worry over Sasuke…and did he really go against Kenshin and come to the wedding just for me? He really was such a good friend. “Should…should somebody help him?” I asked, still concerned.

“He’s usually pretty good at handling these things himself.” Yukimura spoke up as he hopped down from his own horse. “But if it gets too intense I’ll help him out in a minute.”

“And I thought our guys were strange.” Saki said with a giggle.

“Lord Kenshin, we do have a banquet planned for this evening.” Sasuke said, as he jumped back from Kenshin and managed to sprinkle ground spikes to stop the man from advancing. “Also this isn’t the proper way to welcome Ava to your castle.”

Kenshin was then turning to look at me with Shingen, a glare clear on his face. “Ah, the woman, who helped stop my war with the Oda.” He muttered.

“Kenshin, Ava is my wife.” Shingen said. “And I would think you could recognize what a brave thing she has done. 

Kenshin continued to glare at me. “Whatever, just make sure you stay out of my way, woman.”

I was feeling a little irked by his attitude…and being called woman. “Excuse me, but I have a name and it’s Ava. And since we’re all part of an alliance now, and I’ll be living here, the least we can do is be civil and you greet me by my name.”

Sasuke and Yukimura were both looking at me with mouths slightly agape. Kanetsugu looked at me like I had just committed some egregious sin and Saki was looking at me with an amused smile.

Kenshin seemed taken aback, but was slowly sheathing his sword before jumping over the ground spikes. “Just see to the preparations for the banquet and you had better have brought back some excellent sake to make up for all of this.” He declared as he walked away.

“I knew you were brave.” Shingen said, smiling warmly at me.

I felt my cheeks flushing from his praise. “I don’t know about that. Sometimes I just say whatever pops into my head without thinking…it’s really gotten me into trouble a few times.”

Shingen smiled at me. “I find it an admirable quality.” He said. “Now, come and I’ll show you and Miss Saki to your rooms.”

Some servants were coming to take mine and Saki’s luggage into the castle, while other attendants were taking the horses to the stables. Saki and I followed Shingen inside as he showed us around, taking us to the rooms we would be living in.

“Saki this room is yours.” Shingen said, gesturing to a door. “I hope it is to your liking and it is right here next to Ava’s room.”

Saki smiled. “Thank you, my lord. Makes it very easy to be able to attend to my lady.” She was then winking at me. “I’ll check it out and start working on getting it set up.” Which was her way of saying she was giving me and Shingen privacy.

I smiled at her, but felt my cheeks reddening at the thought of being alone with Shingen like this. Shingen was reaching for my hand. “Allow me to show you, your room, my bride.” He said, once again making me warm all over, especially with the look in his eyes.

“Okay.” I replied, my hand warming up in his larger one.

Shingen opened the door with his free arm and led me inside. The room was beautifully decorated with the most beautiful hanging scrolls and fine arts. The folding privacy screen was gorgeously hand-painted. There were wooden shelves and a wooden chest for clothes and other things. There were vases with fresh flowers…it was honestly more extravagant than my room at Azuchi.

“I hope everything is to your liking.” Shingen said. “I picked everything out for you.”

“Thank you…it’s all so lovely…it’s too much really…” I said, feeling a bit flustered.

“I can’t have my wife in a room with anything less. You don’t put a flower in a plain vase.” Shingen said, lifting my hand to place a kiss on the back.

“I…thank you.” I replied, my face on fire. It was then that it occurred to me that he said this was my room. “So…uhm…you said my room…uh…”

Shingen smiled at me, his gray eyes warm. “I thought it might be more comfortable for you to have your own space.” He told me. “Unless you are ready to share a room with me.”

“I…we’ve only had one date.” I replied, my face heating up further. “I…I do appreciate your consideration.”

“If there is anything you need, just let me know.” Shingen told me. “And speaking of our date… would you attend the banquet with me tonight as our second date?”

I smiled. “I think that would be a good date.” I agreed. “Are…are these banquet formal?”

“No. Very informal actually.” Shingen answered. “Very relaxed. We mainly use them to keep Kenshin pacified with plenty of sake.”

I couldn’t help but to laugh. “Does he get a little less…violent and stabby when he has enough sake?”

Shingen nodded. “Sometimes.” He answered. “I am very much looking forward to spending this evening's banquet with you, though.”

“I am looking forward to it, as well.” I replied.

Shingen smiled. “I will let you get settled and I’ll be back to escort my lovely bride to the banquet.”

“That sounds good.” I replied.

Shingen continued to smile, his gray eyes on mine as he brought my hand up to his lips placing a kiss on the back. “Until tonight, my goddess.”

The warmth of Shingen’s lips lingered on my hand once more. Shingen really knew how to make me melt. I was going to be a puddle…and we’d only been married a few days. 

[astoldbyaja]

The Pink Blossom- Ch.18

The ride was long and quiet, but I remember the beauty the mountains preserved. The first time I was filled with fear as I was forced to ride through them. Now my horse was trotting behind Nathan and as samurai passed me, they nodded with respect. I just nodded back and continued on. After lord knows how long, we finally stopped to rest and water the horses. I was sitting beside my horse running my fingers over its soft mane as its head was down. I could see its throat swallowing the water slowly and calmly.

“Grasuh.” I heard Katsumoto call. I looked up from my crouch to see him approaching me. I stood up and bowed my head.

“Katsumoto.” I replied, and he smiled gently and stood before me with a gentle smile as he looked out into the forest. He seemed so entranced by the silent woods, which honestly scared me. Quiet forests meant anything could happen.

“You are… alright?” he asked, and I looked at him as he met my eyes with calmness. I nodded gently.

“I am.” I replied, and he nodded holding his arms together causing his sleeves to meet.

“Ah this is good.” he replied, and I nodded and quietly looked out at the forest as well, a light breeze hitting our backs. Now it felt mildly awkward.

“Are you alright?” I asked, and he chuckled.

“I am quite happy. Happy to know two of my good friends will be back where they belong.” he said, and I just looked down thinking of us soon separating.

“And what will happen to you and your people once we return?” I asked, and he just gave a deep stare to the forest as if the conversation had grown serious.

“There is a great chance for war if the emperor wishes it. But my people will be safe no matter the outcome” he said, and I just nodded. This was good at least.

“Algren says you have spoken to my student, the emperor many times.” he said. I nodded calmly.

“Yes.” I replied, and Katsumoto looked at me with a pleasant smile.

“And what did you think of my student?” he asked. I just smiled a bit still somewhat surprised to know the emperor learned under this great leader.

“Well communication was a bit fierce, but we managed to have a nice talk. He had so many thoughts about me that apparently, I had proved to be a rarity to him. He wanted to know so much about what I was before I was freed by Nathan. I had disproven many rumors about my people.” I said, and he nodded smiling warmly.

“Yes, I can imagine you have.” he replied. I smiled and we both bowed at each other before turning and moving back to our horses. As I attempted to mount my horse, Ujio moved beside me with firm eyes and bowed to me before extending his hand to me. He was in guard mode, and I smiled my thanks and took his hand and helped me get back on my horse.

“Arigatō, Samurai.” I said, and this seemed to make his eyes brighten some as he looked up at me. He gave a firm nod and moved back to mount and ride by his leader. I joined the group, and we continued our ride. I rode by Nathan, and he gave an assuring smile.

“You, okay?” he asked and I nodded.

“I will be.” I replied, and we rode on.

When night came, we made a fire, and I lied down on a small cot of blankets. A few of the men kept watch, Ujio being one of them. Katsumoto, Nobutada and Nathan talked a bit further from the fire. I wondered for a bit what they spoke about, but I didn’t think too into it.

Soon the fire’s warmth made me drowsy and eventually put me to sleep. I was shrouded in darkness for a while, and when I felt suddenly constricted around my stomach, I gasped and opened my eyes a bit. The fire was out, and I was surrounded by darkness. I could hear owls above us. I turned my head to see who was pressed up beside me, and when I smelled Ujio’s scent, my my body calmed itself. I felt his face pressed into my hair as he silently nudged me. I leaned back against him and smiled very gently before letting sleep take me again. I needed to feel every moment of him as tonight would be our last night together.

The next morning, Nathan awoke me, and gave me some rice and fish and we journeyed on. Now the men were chatting amongst themselves for a bit, but soon I saw tall Japanese buildings in the distance, and I knew now it was even more real. Our separation was today.

I would no longer be seen as an equal to the people below us. I would be seen as a creature- inferior to all the Japanese citizens. I would have no say and no rights among the people. If I am separated from Nathan at any time, I could be kidnapped and sold back into slavery anywhere in the world. I looked at Nathan and he looked at me seeing the fear in my eyes and he nodded softly.

“Everything will be fine.” he assured me. I wish I could believe him. I nodded.

Ujio’s POV

I wish I had more time with Grace. I wish I could have held her longer last night or even speak with her on this long journey back to this forbidden and lost world. But I had to remain vigilant and protect my lord as he was to meet with the emperor. I wanted to ask her to just come back with me to the mountains. I saw the look of fear in her eyes as she stared down into the world she saw as dark and horrible.

I wanted to shield her from it all. I wanted a future with her, to make babies with her and see our kids become strong samurai warriors. But now it all seemed to be over and for once, I am hurt to see this outsider leave. I looked ahead however and decided to keep focus on getting my lord in and out of this retched place.

Grace’s pov

As we began to enter the town, our horses rode closer together as Katsumoto led us. We were immediately seen and now everyone began to run and point and shout at our arrival. I had never seen such a sight. Things looked so much different since we were last here. There were more shops and more people now wearing different kimonos showing status and class. But everyone did part for us as we calmly rode. Nathan was looking up at a high building and I looked up as well to see the balcony where Omura and his scar-faced bodyguard stood staring down at us. I looked away wishing I did not notice them. I did notice some people bowing toward us.

All this time Katsumoto was fighting to preserve the history and culture of his people and when these people bowed, I knew they were also his people who had forgotten where they had come from. Maybe they could not look their culture in the face.

Our horses stopped now, and Katsumoto raised his hand. As he did, Ujio threw Nathan his handgun and Nathan caught it with ease. I began to pass Ujio now, and I slowed my horse some and looked at him with the softest of gazes as if saying goodbye. Ujio stared back with a brave and fierce gaze before nodding his head at me. I returned the nod and Nathan moved off his horse, and I managed to get down off mine, knowing I couldn’t keep it. I took the reins and moved in front of the beautiful creature and over to Ujio. I raised my hand toward him to take the reins of my horse. Ujio reached out and I expected him to be somewhat professional and firm like when I first met him.

But instead, his hands wrapped around mine for a minute, his thumb grazing my fingers for a few seconds before I let him take the reins completely. My eyes began to water as my heart wanted to tear itself from my chest, but Nathan took my other hand and I looked at him. I knew they had to leave. I just backed away slowly looking back at Ujio feeling my eyes water more a single tear sliding down my cheek. The samurai began to ride on, and I watched them go, knowing Ujio would not look back for a final glance. He couldn’t for it wasn’t in him, and I would not be upset that he didn’t.

[accirax]

Disventure Camp All Stars Power Ranking (Round 16)

Ah, the sweet sixteenth. At this crucial final 5 vote-out, will I be able to rein my theories in, or will I just be horsing around? With this few players left in the game, it's harder to distinguish between yay and nay.

In case you haven't seen my previous power rankings, the Power Ranking Format is essentially a way of ranking how well each player is doing in the game. So, in essence, this is a long form way of predicting who I think will be eliminated from the competition in the next episode. There will be spoilers for last week's episode (obviously) and its power ranking, so make sure to read that first if you don't want to be spoiled on how I ranked our last boot. If you want more clarification on the rules, that first post will help you out as well. Furthermore, I'm going to be spoiling the preview for next episode, so if you want to go in TOTALLY blind, save this for later. Let's go!

Recap - Alec's Elimination

Current Score: 70 acquired/103 total

(Points versus @venus-is-thinking: 21 acquired/29 total)

"But, I really feel like it has to be Riya's time to go. If it isn't, well... I hope the rest of my list holds up well enough."

Given that Riya didn't get eliminated last week, I'm happy to report that I did put the correct boot in my second best spot. Makes me feel a little better, after my Gabby and Aiden blunders. What I'm not happy to report is that one of my favorite characters this season (and in Season 1) is now out of the game. That's quite saddening. But, I'm not too upset about it.

In the entire pre-merge portion of the game, I knew as I was watching Alec absolutely slay that he was going to have a downfall eventually. Now, I didn't know that said downfall would involve a romantic entanglement with Riya and getting idoled out, but I also didn't know that he'd be able to repair and reflect more on his relationship with Connor, so, pros and cons! Or, rather, cons and pros. And he gets to be in the Loser's Motel episode with Fiore now, hehehe >:)c

While I wish he could have had a nicer exit for his sake, I understand that villains need to be "punished" in shows like these-- and, y'know, at least he wasn't blown up and exploded at age 6 with no support! (/j) Plus, he did get some closure in the form of coming to terms with why his relationships were failing, and having hope for moving on in the future. It was kinda bs that he lost that puzzle challenge because he needed to not be immune for plot reasons in this episode, though. The Alec I know could have smashed a twelve piece jigsaw in seconds. (/j)

Trailer Analysis

Trevor and Emily are back at it again. Are the interns also not allowed to use their phones, or is that just the campers? Just looking out for Trevor's future employment potential, especially in light of Kristal potentially quitting as host.

I guess Riya is worried about appearing in front of a camera now? Perhaps Connor proving how pathetic she had become might have had a more profound impact on her than I might have assessed.

Ooooooh, are we doing letters from home? That would be so interesting. It could also factor into Riya looking nervous in front of the camera-- if the message from her family isn't so supportive of her actions. ...It's a good thing Alec went home before this episode, if true.

The women's alliance is real after all! It wasn't just a myth created and spread by me!!!!

horse

While I absolutely feel for the riggers in this situation... good lord these horse rigs are rough. Their legs just do not move as much/in the right way as they should. I wish the animators retroactive luck in animating this challenge. Also, Riya is the only one who seems to really be struggling with the horses in the preview.

Grett's entering her challenge beast era.

Who the fuck is throwing sticks at Jake? Is it Ally, or is it part of the challenge?

"Final three, let's go~!"

See, told you the women's alliance is real. This is definitely from the same scene we saw earlier of Grett, Riya, and Ally standing around. The real question is just whether or not this will remain as the plan for even this episode anymore.

Power Ranking

#1: Ally

Look, I know I keep putting Ally way above where Venus has her, but... well, it's worked out for me so far, hasn't it? At this point, my vibe check honestly says that Ally is more likely to be a finalist than not (and not just because everyone theoretically has a 60% chance of finalist at this point), even if I can't pinpoint exactly how she's going to get there. I'm sure part of the reason why is because Seasons 1 and 2 treated the Final 4 very differently-- Season 2 had a vote-out with idols fully permitted, while Season 1 had half of their competitors have immunity and choose between the two losers. But, I digress. This is about the Final 5.

The main reason why I think Ally will survive is because she has Grett's favor. I think that Grett will be looking to protect Ally this episode, even if the favor doesn't work the other way. Jake may very obviously want to gun for Ally, but Grett knows that she (and Ally) are the swing votes. Grett will want to take out Riya instead, and if Jake and Connor refuse to comply, she can always eliminate whichever one of them may not have immunity alongside Riya. And, if Grett chooses to work with Riya/the women's alliance in the first place, then Ally is totally fine, too!

The only way I see Ally going home is if Grett decides to abandon her, which I don't think is going to happen. As I see it, Grett currently views Ally as a pawn, and while that may cause Ally to rebel in the future, Grett doesn't seem too concerned by that at the moment.

To be clear, I really hate putting anyone anywhere near the top, because I do think that everyone has a genuinely good reason to be eliminated at this point. It's easy for that to be the case when there are so few competitors left. However, I think Ally has the least reason to go home at this point, so I feel most comfortable with her in the #1 position.

#2: Jake

Not going to lie, pretty much every reason why I don't think Jake is going home this episode is a meta one. If Grett and Ally decided to ride the women's alliance to the end, and if Jake doesn't have immunity, there is a high likelihood he could just die. They voted for him last time. Why not do it again?

That being said, there are a lot of meta reasons why Jake would stay in the game.

Under the assumption that the writers would plan for a mix of Season 1 and Season 2 characters in the finale, and for at least one man to make the finale (as they've already had an all-women Final 3), if Jake goes home, Grett has to be in the finale as the only other Season 1 remaining, and Connor has to be in the finale as the only other man remaining. It's a lot simpler if Jake just makes the finale.

On top of that, Jake's character arc just seems like it's been leaning winner as well. I won't explain all the reasons why, because that would take a long time, and I've been mentioning it in my Power Rankings and initial thoughts for a while now.

While their relationship does have nuance, overall, I think we're supposed to root for Jake and against Ally in their rivalry. Thus, I don't think that they'd want to let Ally actually eliminate Jake. He's a fan favorite, while Ally seems to draw in new haters with each episode.

Jake was already eliminated at Final 5 after being saved by an idol at Final 6 once before. I doubt they'd want him to get eliminated in the exact same way again.

There might be even more, but I'm not thinking of them right now. At any rate, all of those meta elements combined gives Jake enough power to survive being put at a lower placement for this round, at least. Whatever happens in this challenge, I think they'll find some way to save him, whether it's giving Jake immunity, Grett deciding to work with Connor and Jake, the girls deciding to target Connor this time, or whatever else. Still, though. It's scary having him this high.

#3: Connor

Once again, a character conveniently lands in the middle of the ranking because I think they have good reasons to stay or go. Or, at least, I think that's happened before? Possibly even with Connor. Kinda scary that that point is third place, though.

So, why would it make sense for Connor to stay in the competition? Well, like I said with Jake, I think that there'll be at least one man in the finale, so if Connor goes home, it would make it "pretty obvious" that Jake is locked in for the finals. He also still hasn't yet outplaced Riya in this season (or at all), which is something I've been predicting will happen for a while. I also think that Connor would make a very sensible last place finalist, as someone who we can root for but understandably get rid of (because he's already rich) in going from Final 3 to Final 2, opening the stage for a more dramatic showdown between Final 2 rivals. Uh, to be clear, at this point, I'm expecting a Jake/Ally/Connor Final 3 with placements in that order. I didn't really set out to put the three of them in the top 3 positions of this week, but, I guess my internal biases got the best of me?

Screw all that, though-- why would it then make sense for Connor to be the one going home? Well, even though he hasn't been there to see Riya voted out, the end of last episode and this trailer have made it pretty clear that he's already had a moral victory against Riya. Honestly, that might sting for Riya even more-- even though Connor didn't even outplace her, he still seems more content than she is. Why?! Eliminating Connor here could also create a very dramatic do-or-die scenario for Jake at the Final 4. If Jake then wins immunity to secure his spot in the Final 4, it could also lead to some intriguing drama at the Final 4 tribal. I'd love to see Riya going out in that fashion: voting out Connor actually leads to her downfall, as it exposes that her social game wasn't strong enough to save her at the eleventh hour.

Also, if Connor and Alec still need a final conversation at the Loser's Motel, Connor would need to be... well, in the Loser's Motel. To be honest, though, I could actually see the fact that Alec and Connor hugged it out already as being a good sign for the fact that Connor doesn't need to be in the Loser's Motel episode. For that reason and the ones listed above, I think Connor is decently safe... but even decently safe will land you in spot #3.

#4: Grett

After Ally started to sneakily pick up what Grett was discreetly attempting to put down last episode, Grett's life in this game definitely started to flash before my eyes. At this point, it seems to me like Grett is being set up for a pre-finale downfall. However, I think we might still need a little bit more time for Grett's threat level to rise enough for her to truly feel like a final boss archetype.

To quickly explain what I mean by that, modern Survivor (at least) has very frequently edited the show in a way that makes the Final 4 or 5 boot into a final boss that the true winner of the season has to defeat before rightfully claiming their crown in the finale. This is because, a lot of the time, the best strategic players of the season make it really deep into the game, but are such obvious threats to win that the rest of the players scramble to take them out before it's too late. If you've seen Survivor 42, 43, or 44, some names might jump to mind. I don't know if the ONC writers might have been trying to specifically emulate that phenomenon with Grett or if it's just something that could occur naturally, but either way, I think she may receive that treatment.

Part of it is just that I think she's decently likely to win immunity this episode. We've heard that Grett enjoys working out and being athletic in these past few episodes, and she seemed to be kicking ass on that horse. She also has a rich(?) background, so she might have more inherent knowledge of horses than some of the other competitors.

There's more I could specifically say about what I think might happen in these last few episodes involving Grett, but I'll save that for #5. But, if I'm so convinced that Grett will be safe this episode, why put her at #4?

Well, truthfully, I'm not. First of all, I said the final boss can be eliminated at 4th or 5th place, and this is 5th place. Granted, I think 5th place final boss is more warranted for Survivor, with their Final 4 firemaking twist, but it could still be the case here. I could also see Ally convincing everyone else that Grett is too threatening, and everyone working together to vote her out of the game. Even if Jake would hate to work with Ally, I don't know if anyone would be able to pass up such an obvious "as long as it isn't me" opportunity this close to the finale.

While I do still think Grett would be a deserving winner, she's entered into wide enough of a danger zone that I fear she won't make it to the finale. The debate in my eyes is whether it'll be this episode or the next that takes her out. I'm leaning next episode, but I'm unconfident enough in my prediction that Grett goes at #4.

#5: Riya

Alright, back to my direct predictions about what will happen. As long as Riya doesn't win immunity this episode, I think that what will happen is that Grett will decide to turn the tables this time, and plan to vote with Jake and Connor to take out Riya. That way, she can fulfill her personal vendetta against Riya, as well as prevent someone who almost won last season from getting a chance at a re-do.

Given that Grett is locked in with Connor and Jake as Riya votes, there isn't really much of a point to voting for someone else if Ally is in on the plan. But, that doesn't mean that Ally won't be mad about it. The line where Ally seems so happy about going to the Final 3 with Riya and Grett would factor into this. I think Ally might genuinely believe that that's the plan moving forward, before Grett goes "lol no of course we're taking Riya out this time." At that point, Ally will put two and two together, and be confident that Grett tipped Connor and Jake off about the idol play without telling her. Some super close ally she is!

Going into the Final 4, Ally will be sick and tired of Grett bossing her around, not taking her opinions into account when it comes to who to vote out (Jake still isn't out of the game!) and treating her as essentially a second vote. That rage will cause Ally to somehow get Grett out at the Final 4-- possibly in combination with a Jake immunity win or some other situation where Jake is immune from being voted out. Or, maybe Ally would put her hatred of Jake aside in seeing Grett as a bigger threat. Doubtful, though-- she really fucking hates Jake.

Anyways, I feel bad that I haven't actually talked about Riya much in this Riya section. Of course, I don't know if anything that I'm going to say about Riya will make me feel any nicer. I really don't think that Riya is going to be a finalist again. I think that Grett or Ally make more sense as a "villain" finalist for the series, between Grett being a former member of the villains' alliance and Ally being one of the most detestable characters at this point. (Not saying I personally detest her.) If Riya isn't a finalist, it's now or next episode.

And... really, the thing that makes me want to put Riya on the bottom this week the most is wondering what the hell she would be doing still in the Final 4. If she gets there, it's probably either a Connor or Jake boot that gets us there, possibly Grett in the "Ally convinces everyone to vote Grett" scenario. What does that get us?

If Connor is eliminated, Riya is just an awkward third wheel on the Ally/Jake and Ally/Grett scenarios.

If Jake is eliminated, I guess she continues beefing with Connor, but about what? Whatever they have to talk about will probably be talked about in this episode.

If Grett is eliminated, then... I mean, I guess we'll focus in on her and Ally? And she can keep beefing with Connor about whatever. I don't know about you guys, but to me, that feels... kind of fruitless?

The main issue is that, at least in my eyes, Riya has already lost. She's not going to win this season, and everyone in the audience knows it. With Alec's elimination, she lost any sort of power she could have had. She doesn't have Alec to order around, she's officially made a fool of herself in front of Connor, and she doesn't even seem to enjoy the presence of the cameras she's always loved in the trailer. I think Riya may kinda quietly go off into the night this episode, which is the saddest (/pos) method for eliminating her there is. TV's greatest villain, taken out by Grett as an obvious move with very little fanfare. Is this where her relentless ambition and manipulation has gotten her...?

Oh, and she still needs to talk with Alec in the Loser's Motel, probably. Kinda fitting if they're eliminated back-to-back, as well.

As we close out this Power Ranking, let me reiterate that I genuinely could see any of these competitors being eliminated this episode. I wound up having stronger opinions about Ally and Riya than I thought, but I really struggled with where to place everyone at the start. I don't want to get 1 point this week, but I wouldn't be all too surprised if I do. I just have to hope that the power of the horse is on my side.

... wait, Venus was born in the year of the horse! Dammit, I'm totally gonna lose! Unless we have the same person at #5...? As I write this, I haven't read hers yet, so I guess I'll have to wait and see. To the episode!

[aishangotome]

Minamoto no Yoshitsune: Chapter 20 Premium Story

Chapter 20

♡———♡

Yoshitsune: --If you want to keep your limbs attached,

Yoshitsune: Don't touch this person.

His voice, filled with a strange mass, echoed heavily and coldly.

Even from behind, I could feel Yoshitsune-sama's quiet rage.

(You must hate me...)

Joy and confusion at being rescued welled up inside me at the same time, and my feelings became muddled.

I timidly asked Yoshitsune-sama's back,

Yoshino: Yoshitsune-sama, why...!?

Yoshitsune: That's...

Yoshitsune-sama turned around--

Yoshitsune: .....

(Ah...)

In a split second, a great emotion moved in his eyes.

(Why...are you looking at me with such eyes?)

Yoshitsune-sama bit his lip as if swallowing something.

Yoshitsune: Everyone, retreat!

Yoshitsune: --No matter what you see, don't stop.

An unnaturally raging wind whipped Yoshitsune-sama's hair around eerily.

Yoshitsune: Go!

(His supernatural power!?)

The swung sword distorted the air, turning into countless wind blades that attacked the inugami.

Inugami: Grrrrrrr!

The beasts cried out in anger and crawled on the ground.

The blades rained down mercilessly on those who tried to escape.

Rebel Soldier 1: Wh-what is that...?

Rebel Soldier 2: Let's go now!

The rebel soldiers around us changed their expressions and ran away at once, not missing this opportunity.

Several inugami rushed towards us.

(We can't outrun them...!)

Yoshitsune: I told you not to touch her!

Yoshitsune-sama landed in front of me and slashed through the wind.

The inugami, prevented from approaching, cried out in pain.

(So...overwhelming...)

Now even the inugami were hesitant to approach Yoshitsune-sama, as if they were afraid of him.

As both enemies and allies scattered and fled, I couldn't take my eyes off Yoshitsune-sama as if I were under a spell.

Yoshitsune: --Come, Yoshino.

Yoshino: ...!

I was lifted up by strong arms and placed on Yoshitsune-sama's horse.

Yoshino: Wait--

Yoshitsune: Don't talk. I'll bite your tongue.

Yoshitsune-sama jumped on behind me and restrained my movements.

He kicked the horse's belly hard and galloped ahead of the rebel army.

Yoshino: ...Yoshitsune-sama! Put me down.

Yoshitsune: No.

Even though I should think of this as a situation where I'm being held captive,

Yoshitsune-sama's body was warm, and his hands held me as if protecting something precious.

This contradiction tore at my heart.

(...I don't know why Yoshitsune-sama helped me.)

(But I'm on the side of the shogunate, and Yoshitsune-sama's enemy.)

(If I don't escape, I'll cause trouble for everyone.)

(And my wish to win the war...and stop Yoshitsune-sama will not come true.)

The moment I made up my mind to jump off--

Yoshitsune: I said no.

(Ah)

My struggling body was easily restrained.

Yoshino: Yoshitsune-sama...

The back of my eyes grew hot, and tears welled up.

Yoshino: Why did you save me?

Yoshino: If you wanted to capture me as the shogunate's trump card, you could have just left me to die there!

Yoshitsune: Then, why did you save me?

Yoshino: Huh?

Yoshitsune: You warned me when I was about to be attacked by that beast from behind.

Yoshino: That's...

(My body moved on its own...)

I was at a loss for words when faced with a question I couldn't answer.

(Oh, I...)

(I love him this much.)

Just by making eye contact at such close range, my resolve and everything else seemed to be falling apart.

Yoshitsune: ...........

Yoshino: Hmm...

My chin was lifted by his finger, and my lips were stolen.

Yoshino: Why...?

After the brief kiss, I was captivated by his heated eyes.

Yoshitsune: I'm not going to apologize.

Yoshitsune: Because there was no reason not to.

(Does that mean...)

The arms holding my body gently tightened, and our warmth melted together.

Yoshitsune: I'll explain later.

Yoshitsune: Forgive me for saying something out of line, just this once.

Yoshitsune: --I'm glad I was able to save you.

(...Cruel.)

(If you say it with such sincere eyes...)

The feelings I had wrapped up and hidden in the depths of my heart raged within me.

I barely managed to hold them back with tears and coughed weakly.

Yoshino: ...What am I supposed to say to that?

(What am I supposed to do with myself, hoping for something with just one word, one kiss from you?)

Yoshitsune: You don't have to say anything.

Yoshino: ...No.

(Yoshitsune-sama said he would explain later.)

(I can't know what's in his heart right now, but)

After much hesitation, I searched for an answer that was acceptable to me.

Yoshino: I'm also...glad you're safe, Yoshitsune-sama.

Yoshitsune: ...Thank you.

A husky voice whispered in my ear,

and the faint smell of blood mixed with Yoshitsune-sama's scent brushed against my nose.

Yoshitsune: Holding you in my arms like this feels like I'm dreaming of a continuation of that night.

Yoshitsune: The night I parted with you in Hiraizumi.

Yoshino: Ah...

Yoshitsune-sama's words brought back memories.

**flashback**

Yoshitsune: Why do you make such a face?

Yoshino: Yoshitsune-sama...

Yoshitsune: ...

Yoshitsune: Yoshino, what have you done to me?

Yoshitsune: You’re supposed to be my enemy… why do I not want to hurt you?

**flashback over**

(I thought that night would be the last time we touched.)

I was held tightly, and the sweetness and sadness of his whispered voice were awakened.

Yoshino: ...If it's a dream, I'll wake up.

Yoshitsune: That's right.

Yoshitsune: But the warmth I feel at this moment is my reality.

There was no hesitation or confusion in his voice... It just quietly entered me.

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Chapter 21

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[loosesodamarble]

A Double Enchanted Tale

Here's my contribution to the Disney crossover event from @vs-redemption.

This is Disney’s Enchanted (with some plot changes) featuring Nacht x Josele (my oc) and Finral x Mallory (@sailor-muno's oc). Cameo from the ZorAcy ship (from @faewraithsworld). And not to worry I'm using my friends' ocs with permission~!

Cast -Josele as Giselle -Nacht as Robert -Finral as Prince Edward -Mallory as Nancy -Sterling as Morgan (Robert’s daughter) -Yuno as Pip the Chipmunk (but a more character appropriate bird here) -Liliane Vaude as Queen Narissa -Alecdora as Nathaniel (the queen’s lackey) -Zora and Acylla as Phoebe and Ethan (the couple that almost gets divorced but doesn't)

Putting this under a cut because it got loooooooooooooong. Lots of little headcanon notes as well as some drabbles for scenes in narrative format (not my best prose writing but I think I would've gone insane trying to do it all in headcanon format).

..........

As with the original film, this story begins with Josele waxing poetic and singing about True Love’s Kiss. She imagines her True Love™ with pitch black hair and sparkling blue eyes.

Yuno, Josele’s little songbird friend, helps put together the statue of Josele’s True Love™.

Josele’s song attracts the attention of a troll. When it tries to take her away, she fights back.

Elsewhere in the forest, Prince Finral is returning from a diplomacy mission in another kingdom, attended by Alecdora, Queen Liliane’s henchman.

Liliane keeps sending Finral away as a foreign ambassador to keep him distracted from romance. So long as he doesn’t find a bride, she can remain on the throne.

Finral isn’t a fighter but he’s always concerned about people who might need help so he rides into the woods, following Josele’s (kinda wretched) screams.

Alecdora attempts to follow but is left behind as he’s without a horse. He can only grumble that Liliane should try to have Finral killed and not just distracted. He’s fed up with the guy too.

Finral is chasing after Josele’s voice. Josele is fighting for her life.

Josele is up in the trees, trying to smack away the troll with tree branches. Yuno is desperately pecking at the troll.

.....

Finral followed the shouts of a woman’s voice through the forest until he happened upon a troll the size of a house, reaching into the trees.

“Leave me alone already!” Finral looked up to where the voice emanated from and saw a lady with brown hair. “There’s no way I’m going anywhere with you!” She had a tree branch held in both hands and used it to smack at the troll’s fingers when it got too close to reaching her. Finral also barely made out the flittering movements of a bird flying at the troll’s hands one in a while.

“Ahem!” Finral forcibly cleared his throat then projected his voice. “Sir Troll! I know I just arrived but it’s clear to me that you’re bothering that lady. She has no interest in you so I suggest you be on your way.”

The troll didn’t look at Finral and instead just grunted and continued to reach up.

Finral groaned but went on, “If you seek the attention of a fair lady, you must do better than this. Attempt a more gentlemanly approach. Give your name and offer a small gift in greeting, like flowers or even a particularly lovely stone.”

Granted, Finral had no clue if those strategies worked. He had always wanted to attend balls and other events in search of his True Love™. But he was so busy helping his mother establish friendly relations with other lands that he never had the time for romantic socialization.

“Love isn’t something you can force. It’s something you build through mutual efforts.”

“Would you be quiet?!” the troll snapped at Finral, finally giving the prince attention.

“Ah… Well…” Finral uttered.

“Or how about you leave?!”

The lady in the trees jumped down and swung her branch down on the spot between the troll’s eyes, the weak spot of those creatures. With a pained roar, the troll held its face and ran off into the woods. Finral wished he’d been able to do more. But he couldn’t not feel glad that the monster was driven away and that the lady in the trees was safe.

Speaking of…

Finral watched the woman land on a lower branch of a tree and lean against the trunk, probably letting out a sigh of relief. He got a better look at her. Brown hair that shined like varnished wood, a fair complexion, and arms that showed more muscle than Finral had ever seen on a woman.

“Excuse me, miss! You’re alright, yes?” Finral called up to the woman.

She turned her face to Finral and his breath was taken away by the beautiful depth of her brown eyes.

“Me?” She gestured to herself. “Yes, I’m oka—”

All of a sudden, her foot slipped and she was falling to the ground. Finral spurred his horse forward. And not a moment too soon as Finral caught the woman in his arms.

For a moment, the two of them stared into each other’s eyes.

“Hello…” the lady whispered, her face now colored a rosy hue. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Prince Finral,” he managed to say despite the tenseness of his throat and the heat in his face. “And you are?”

“Josele.”

“A name that’s as lovely as you are brave.” Finral’s heart thumped in his chest. He’d never had such a reaction to a woman. Did that mean that Josele was… his True Love™? “Would you… marry me?”

“Y-yes! Yes of course!” Josele blurted out, giggles bubbling in her voice.

“Then it’s settled, we’ll be married in the morning!” Finral exclaimed with glee.

As Finral and Josele rode into the sunset, singing refrains that came to them as naturally as breathing, the little bird that had been around earlier watched them leave. The bird was Yuno, Josele’s faithful companion.

“But he doesn’t even look like the True Love™ from your dreams, Josele!” Yuno yelled while flying after them.

.....

In New York City, Nacht and his daughter Sterling are on their way home in a taxi.

Nacht brings up to Sterling that he’s going to propose to his girlfriend, Mallory Demiscura.

Sterling: Her name sounds like an evil stepmother's name. Nacht: That’s not nice to say, Sterling. Mallory is a fine woman. And what’s more, she looks like she could actually be your mother. Sterling: Is that why you’re thinking of marrying her? Nacht: … Maybe.

Sterling frowns at the lame reasoning. It’s so unromantic. She wants her dad to marry someone he loves, not someone to be her mom.

As Sterling pouts and stares out the window, she spots a lady in an elaborate wedding dress climbing up a telephone pole.

Sterling hurries out of the car to investigate and Nacht of course follows.

Sterling: Aren’t you afraid of falling from there, miss? Josele: Not to worry! I’m used to being in high places! Nacht: So she’s a drug addict… Sterling: Or she climbs stuff often. Jeez dad, no need to be judgy. Nacht: Lady, I think you should get down from there! It’s not safe! Josele: Nah, I’ll be fi— (slips and falls) WAH!

Nacht instinctively goes to catch Josele because of course. Nacht is hurt more by the collision than Josele is. Sterling’s jaw drops at how durable and muscular Josele is.

Sterling: How did you get like that, miss? Josele: Get like what? So disheveled and dirty? Heh, well I’ve been wandering around, completely lost, all day. But I’ll be fine, I just need— (wobbles and collapses on top of Nacht again) To rest. Nacht: Uh, well, uh… We can take you in for the night? Sterling: (pumps her fists in victory) We’re bringing a princess home!

.....

Nacht pinched the bridge of his nose after pushing all of the rats, pigeons, and roaches out of the apartment. First a lady climbing in a wedding dress and now a vermin-led housecleaning job. Maybe he was hallucinating. He was pulled from his thoughts by Sterling tugging on his shirt.

“Do we have to wash the dishes again? Because the rats touched them?”

“Use the disposable ones for now. Please,” Nacht groaned.

“Okay.”

After Sterling left his side, Nacht noticed a sing-song voice coming from the bathroom. It had to be Josele. Nacht approached slowly, taking in the sound of Josele’s voice. Admittedly, she had a lovely voice. There was then a pang in Nacht’s heart as he remembered how Morgen used to sing.

Morgen probably would’ve loved a weirdo like her, Nacht thought with a scoff. He couldn’t help but smile though. Nacht stopped in front of the door but before he even knocked, Josele opened the door.

“Good morning,” Josele said with a grin. Such a blithe and innocent look. Like she hadn’t nearly fallen to her death—or at least a broken bone—last night. “You’re looking well, Nacht.”

“Uh…” Nacht glanced down before hurriedly locking eyes with Josele. Holy hell, she is ripped! “Morning. So uh… you…”

“The shower is absolutely lovely,” remarked Josele, glancing back into the room. “I’m used to bathing in rivers but that was a whole new experience!”

“In rivers?” Nacht repeated. Did she grow up in the wilderness or something? “Right. So look, the thing is—”

“Nacht? Who’s that?”

Nacht’s head whipped in the direction of another woman’s voice. Mallory stood a few feet away, jaw dropped and eyes wide in a look of confusion and hurt.

Mallory was there. Seeing Nacht talk with Josele. While Josele was only in a towel.

“Oh hello there! I’m Josele!” She strode up to Mallory without a second thought and began to shake the redhead’s hand. “It’s so nice to meet you! What’s your name?”

“Mallory…”

“Oh that’s a gorgeous name!”

“Thanks?” Mallory pulled back a bit. Her face twisted, looking more horrified by the millisecond. “Uh, what are you doing here?”

“I was on my way to the castle to be married—”

Nacht hurried to the women and stepped between them.

“Mallory, please listen,” Nacht started while holding Mallory’s shoulders and moving her away from Josele. “She and I, we’re not— You have to understand.”

“Understand what, Nacht? That you’ve finally decided that I’m not good enough for you?” Mallory choked out. Tears had already formed in her eyes. “I thought we were just taking it slow because of Sterling and…” Mallory quickly rubbed her eyes. “And we have our careers to worry about too! But I guess the real reason was—!”

“That’s not it at all!”

Mallory pulled away from Nacht and stormed towards the exit. “I’ll go! If she makes you happy, I won’t get in your way!”

“Are you leaving already?” Josele asked, stepping in the way of Mallory’s exit. “But you just arrived.”

The question made Mallory pause. “You don’t want me to leave?”

Josele and Mallory stared into each other’s eyes for a moment. Both seemed confused. And Nacht had to step in.

“Ladies, please, I can explain everything,” Nacht said as he got between them.

“Okay then…” Mallory nodded for a moment then looked Nacht dead in the eyes. “Explain.”

.....

Nacht explains to Mallory the situation with Josele. And she listens.

Mallory is baffled to say the least but considering Josele’s behavior, it seems to be the most believable explanation.

Nacht asks Mallory if Josele could stay with her only for Mallory to say her apartment is getting renovated and she’s already sharing a space with her three sisters.

But Mallory promises to help look for leads about how to get Josele home.

The situation still puts a strain on the relationship since Nacht will be focusing his attention on Josele until she returns to Andalasia.

Mallory is jealous of Josele’s hopeless romanticism and optimism. She was once a romantic herself but lost her spark. She ended up with Nacht because of proximity and convenience.

Nacht takes Josele to his workplace. He hands Josele over to his coworker, Secre, hoping she can help locate Josele’s home.

Meanwhile, Nacht tries to help move along the divorce proceedings for Acylla and Zora. In Nacht’s opinion, they had to split sooner rather than later.

.....

Josele approached Acylla with a wide-eyed, almost awestruck smile.

“Your eyes…” she whispered sweetly. “They’re gorgeous with that little sparkle in them. And your presence is so calm and graceful.”

“I, well…” Acylla flushed at the forward compliments being given to her. “Thank you, miss.”

“The person who holds your heart is a very lucky individual,” Josele commented as she took Acylla’s hands.

And those words made Acylla’s shy grin drop into a deep frown instantly. “He may have held it before but he dropped it like a hot potato.” The words made Josele reel back. Acylla only continued, “And believe me, I doubt he feels lucky to know me at this moment.”

“I don’t understand…” Josele whispered as she shook her head. She glanced at Zora who scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Aren’t you two in love?”

“Read the room, lady,” snapped Zora. “We’re sick of each other.”

Nacht buried his face in his hands and groaned. First his personal life. And now his professional life was being torn asunder by a woman who made a dress out of his curtains before skipping away, without shame or guilt.

When he raised his head, Nacht had every intention of snapping at Josele to keep her nose out of Zora and Acylla’s business. But then he saw them, the tears in her eyes. Soft and real, truly broken up by something most people would brush off as an unfortunate but unextraordinary event. So Nacht ended up pulling Josele aside and quietly letting her know that she didn’t have to worry since the divorce was what the former couple wanted.

“But they’re losing the love of their lives, Nacht,” Josele whimpered as her tears fell. “I can’t imagine loving someone one day and then… not loving them the next…”

“That’s just how the world works,” Nacht said. He almost included an “I’m sorry.” But what did he have to be sorry for?

When Nacht glanced past Josele’s shoulder, he saw Zora staring at Acylla. Not with annoyance as he had been earlier. But rather, he looked curious, as though examining Acylla for the first time. As for Acylla, she was red-faced and avoiding Zora’s eyes.

The air between the two had changed. Nacht didn’t know how but it had…

.....

Mallory is still on her own commute to work. On the way, she spies a man in an elaborate medieval style tunic standing in front of a bus.

Finral: Be still you beast of steel! Those poor civilians in your belly don’t deserve to be eaten! Bus Driver: (honks aggressively) GET OUTTA THE STREET! Mallory: Oh no. That man’s gonna get himself run over. (runs over and grabs Finral out of the street) Finral: Hey hey! Wait wait wait! I was helping those people! Mallory: You were causing a traffic jam! (brushes Finral down because he looks like a mess) You good, man? Finral: I am a good man, yes. Or I’d like to think so. Mallory: Um… Yeah I don’t think you’re doing so hot, sir. (thinking) He does look hot though…

Mallory and Finral get to talking once they get some distance between themselves and the street.

Finral goes on and on about finding his “precious doe” and “other half.” But he doesn’t mention Josele by name.

Still, Mallory gets a weird feeling that Finral’s fairy tale dreamy attitude is familiar…

Alecdora runs up from out of nowhere and grabs Finral away, saying he knows where to find Finral’s love.

“Lead the way, Alecdora!” Finral exclaims as he and Alecdora run off.

“Alec-darrel? What kind of name is that?!” Mallory asks. She tries to chase them for a moment but she’s not fit to keep up.

And then, a little songbird (Yuno), lands on her shoulder and seems to glare at Alecdora.

“What’s your story, little guy?” Mallory asks sarcastically. “I’m actually thinking of chasing after Prince Charming there.”

Yuno chirps aggressively at Mallory and directs her to follow Finral. So she does!

At some point, Alecdora makes his first attempt to kill Josele with a poison apple provided by Liliane. Only to fail.

.....

“That’s how you know~!”

Josele’s melodious voice rang through the air.

“That’s how you know~!”

Came the harmonious echo of what felt like half of New York City, somehow knowing the song that Josele had begun.

Nacht had thought he was dreaming. Honestly, he’d thought that since he first met Josele. Yet sitting in an open carriage as everyone from street musicians to newlyweds performed in Central Park felt strangely real. Every smile on the people’s faces was wide and genuine. The clouds from the morning had parted and the afternoon sun made the colors around Nacht brighter.

And the brightest person there was Josele.

The song and dance had concluded. But people were lingering, mingling amongst themselves or approaching Josele as she stood within the carriage with Nacht.

Nacht blinked a few more times. But he couldn’t take his eyes off of Josele as she spoke with the people who complimented her song or thanked her for the experience. And she replied with a “no, thank you for joining” and such.

How did she manage to be so kind and genuine? Okay, Nacht knew why: fairy tale princess turned real. The question still lingered in his mind. He wondered if the kind of magic Josele exuded was something everyone had a little of, and that’s what made everything happen.

.....

With Mallory, she’s caught up with Finral who is separated from Alecdora thankfully. As they’re walking, she tries to get across that she knows where Finral’s “other half” is.

As she tries to explain, she gets a text from one of her sisters.

[Is he cheating?] The question is accompanied by a picture of Nacht and Josele, sitting in a carriage and surrounded by… a lot. [Check social media. They’re there.]

Mallory looks up what’s trending and finds pictures and videos of some chaotic flash mob. With Josele and Nacht seeming to lead it.

The doubt in Mallory’s heart starts to come back. She and Nacht had never done anything like dance or sing together, especially not in public. And yet with Josele…

.....

“Is something the matter, Miss Mallory?” Finral asked gently, breaking Mallory out of her gloom.

“Oh! Uh…” Mallory slid her phone into her purse, making her chest tight with guilt at hiding Josele’s location from Finral. But perhaps their reunion could wait an hour or two? “I’m… fine?” She shook her head. “It’s just that the man I love…” The words felt so heavy in her mouth that she trailed off and had to take a breath. “He’s not all that good at being loving.”

Finral blinked then stared wide-eyed at Mallory. “But how can that be? A fine woman such as yourself is surely easy to love. Why, I can already name several things that make you splendid!”

“L-like what?”

“Well for one, your hair! It’s the loveliest shade of red I’ve ever laid my eyes on!” Finral exclaimed with a wide grin. “I bet if you were to give a twirl, it’d fan out so beautifully that the crowd would stop and stare.”

“I don’t think I could do something like that!” Mallory squeaked, feeling herself warm up as people were already eyeing her and Finral because of his loud voice. “But, um, thanks for the compliment.”

“And I have more to give, still!” Finral quickly followed up. “Your smile. It shines as bright as the sun. Surely, that smile alone has made the day of your sweetheart.”

Mallory shrugged, not wanting to admit that she’d never seen Nacht smile. Not truly. Only ever the empty, cordial smile he used at work.

“There’s also your heart, so full of kindness. We only passed by each other this morning and yet you’ve returned to aid me.” Finral went on waxing poetic. It was incredible how genuine he sounded. Not a hint of irony to him. “Your lover, whoever he may be, should be ashamed for not treasuring you the way you should be!”

Mallory pursed her lips and nodded a little. She did want for a love that was… more. But she was never brave enough to ask that of Nacht.

Raising her head, Mallory locked eyes with Finral. His warm grin and the way his eyes looked at her with gentleness. The deepest parts of her heart wanted that.

Mallory wanted the bold and free love that Finral was offering.

It’s just that he wasn’t offering it to her…

.....

Finral breaks out into song. Let’s call it “With All Your Heart.”

I’m not writing the whole thing out (not a lyricist here), but the gist of the song is Finral explaining his belief that love should be expressed boldly and being proud of one’s love will make them happier. It’s why he’s so forward.

Finral’s song number gets the crowd going as much as “That’s How You Know” did. Mallory is in absolute awe of the literal magic in front of her eyes and excitedly runs alongside Finral as he encourages other couples to loudly proclaim their love for each other.

Yuno is following along the whole time and is picking up on the vibes with this pair.

When the song ends, a pair of doves fly up to Mallory. They give her a wreath of flowers and tickets to a ball happening later that week, addressed from Nacht.

And now she’s thinking of Nacht again and her heart hurts realizing that she’s already smitten with another man, a taken man.

Finral hears of the ball and excitedly thinks of taking Josele there before returning home.

Mallory agrees to help him get tickets. She wasn’t just going to give up the tickets for her and Nacht, but she’d at least help Josele and Finral’s love.

Alecdora finds Mallory and Finral and takes away the prince saying he has a lead on where Josele is. Mallory tries to argue that she knows but Alecdora ignores her.

Yuno comforts Mallory for a moment then chirps, as if to reassure her that he’ll get Finral back.

.....

Nacht blinked a few times, not quite believing what he was hearing.

“Can you say that again?”

“We don’t see any reason to divorce,” Zora repeated with a smile. He looked at Acylla who grinned back. “That lady from yesterday, she was so right. Acylla’s eyes have a beautiful sparkle to them. It was the first thing I noticed. I really am lucky to have fallen for her.”

“But just the other day you two were having problems,” Nacht pointed out, to which the couple snickered.

“Everyone has problems, Mr. Faust.” Acylla’s hold on Zora’s hand tightened. “But should we really allow the bad things in life to outweigh the good ones?”

Nacht raised a brow. “You’re really going to try again after a chance encounter with—”

“Have you considered that it wasn’t merely chance?” Acylla posed. “Maybe we were meant to meet that lady and she would remind us of what really mattered.”

“Like how sweet you are when I’m not bothering you,” Zora joked. The couple laughed again before sharing a brief kiss. “Yeah, I could get used to this all over again.”

Nacht fell silent. His mouth snapped shut as he had nothing to say.

There it was again. That strange magic that Josele’s presence exuded. At work again in Nacht’s life.

Nacht guided Acylla and Zora out of the office while reassuring them that Josele would hear of their gratitude towards her. There was no doubt in his mind that Josele would be overjoyed to know that the couple’s marriage had been saved.

“What a peculiar woman,” Nacht muttered, feeling a smile come to his face just thinking of everything Josele had done in only two days. “What else could possibly happen now?”

.....

The timeline of events does get extended. There’s an extra two or three days of shenanigans.

Mallory keeps on putting off telling Nacht that she’s met Finral because 1) Alecdora keeps dragging Finral off and Mallory would rather not say “I’ve seen him but I’m currently not with him” due to the inconvenience, and 2) she just wants more time with Finral herself.

So Nacht and Josele have their misadventures while Finral and Mallory have theirs.

Josele and Nacht’s misadventures include: 1) taking Sterling to an archery range since the kid is interested and when Josele tries her hand at the bow, she cuts her fingers on the fletching, 2) Josele helping some kids find their lost pets with her little animal summoning ability, and 3) Josele decorating a statue with flower wreaths and teaching Nacht and Sterling how to weave flowers together during that time.

Mallory and Finral’s misadventures include 1) getting caught up in a dance off on the streets which Finral absolutely flops since its break dancing and not ballroom, 2) coming across a runaway teen and talking things out with them (Mallory gives more grounded advice like finding a shelter while Finral’s advice is optimistic but helpful in keeping the teen’s spirits up), and 3) meeting Mallory’s sister Athena and her boyfriend, during which Finral convinces the boyfriend to go ahead with proposing.

Meanwhile, Yuno is fighting for his life against Alecdora, trying to separate him from Finral so Finral can meet up with Mallory again. Alecdora has tried clipping his wings, selling him to a pet store, and even threw him into a bird of prey exhibit at the zoo. It’s crazy.

Nacht eventually takes Josele and Sterling out for dinner, during which Nacht reveals the story behind Sterling’s lack of mother.

Sterling is Nacht’s adopted kid, but she wasn’t meant to be. She was supposed to be adopted by Morgen, Nacht’s brother.

Years ago, Morgen’s apartment building caught fire. Something about a stove being left on.

Instead of escaping immediately, Morgen went to every room he could to help others get to safety.

He eventually found a woman with one of her legs pinned under debris and a baby in her arms. The woman insisted that Morgen take her baby and leave her to die. If her baby lived, that’s what mattered.

Morgen carried the baby girl out, using his own body to protect her from the smoke and flames.

Morgen and the baby escaped, but he sustained some bad injuries.

While in the hospital, Morgen said he wanted to adopt the baby girl, named Sterling, once he was recovered. However, he wasn’t getting better, only worse.

With his dying breath, Morgen asked Nacht to take care of Sterling. “I know you have no attachment to her, brother. But please, watch over her. Don’t let the hope that lives in that child die.”

And so Sterling became Nacht’s child.

Alecdora makes a second attempt with a poison apple and Yuno saves Josele from this one.

Alecdora and Yuno face off. It ends with Alecdora “killing” Yuno.

After they return to the Faust apartment and Josele comforts Sterling, Nacht talks to Josele about staying in New York.

.....

“It’s been nearly a week since you’ve arrived, Josele. And if he hasn’t come by now, I just don’t think your so-called prince is coming at all,” Nacht whispered, trying to be gentle with the woman’s feelings.

“But he is,” Josele insisted once more. “I believe in him.”

“And maybe that belief is misplaced. You can’t hope for the impossible.”

At Nacht’s words, Josele’s expression twisted into a frown. A look which Nacht hadn’t seen since Josele had cried over Acylla and Zora’s situation days earlier. But the current frown she wore was markedly different.

“What’s with you, Nacht? Why can’t you have a little hope?” Josele asked as she leaned forward, closer to Nacht, more aggressive than she’d ever been before. “Why is it always ‘let’s stop now’ or ‘it won’t work’ or ‘it’s a waste of time’? Why are you always so gloomy?”

“I’m not gloomy, I’m realistic.” Nacht felt his chest grow tight as Josele’s eyes narrowed and she let out a sharp exhale. “You can’t always get your hopes up. Otherwise, you’ll get disappointed a lot.”

“So I should be like you and never get my hopes up?” Josele shot to her feet as she yelled.

“That’s not what I said!” Nacht rose to his feet too. “I’m just saying that hoping for the impossible will never work out!”

All Nacht has wanted to do was to spare Josele from the heartbreak of someone giving up on her. He didn’t intend to get Josele fired up, to cause her to come to the defense of her own hopes and desires.

“Well at least I have hope! Unlike you!” Josele jabbed Nacht in the shoulder, as if to emphasize. “You’re so afraid to try new things! You’re afraid to open your heart! Sometimes you’re so kind and sometimes you’re like this!” So caught up in her emotions, Josele started to pace back and forth. “And it just—! I don’t know—! All of it makes me so—! You make me so—!”

“I make you what?” Nacht pressed, leaning in close without really thinking.

“You make me so angry!” Josele snapped. “I’m angry with you, Nacht Faust!” The fierce scowl on Josele’s face was blinked away, and then she grinned. “I’m angry! Oh my gosh, I’m angry!” Her laugh, like a chime, echoed for a moment. And then, “Wait, I’m angry.”

Josele frowned again and then punched Nacht square in the stomach. The impact sent Nacht to the floor—it still shocked him how surprisingly muscular she was. Nacht groaned and held his aching torso.

“I’m sorry! Oh I’m so sorry!” Josele yelped while kneeling on the floor beside Nacht. “I didn’t think—!”

“You’re good, Josele. It’s fi—” Nacht paused when he felt Josele pick up his head and then rest it on her lap. “Josele?”

“I’m still angry, you know,” she whispered. Her fingers stroked through Nacht’s hair. “Just because not everything is as good as I want it to be, doesn’t mean I should resign myself to the bad, right?”

Nacht held his tongue for a moment. As refreshing as it had been to see Josele upset, he wasn’t going to risk a second bruise to the stomach.

“I still don’t know if your prince is coming. But… I guess we can give it a few more days.”

“Thank you, Nacht.”

It was then that Nacht dared to look up at Josele. The look on her face was… She wasn’t beaming the way she normally did. But she wasn’t scowling either. She looked… impassive. Yet peaceful. As if she was lost in thought. Something about Josele in that moment was… beautiful.

“Josele?” Nacht reached up and touched her cheek with the back of his hand.

“Hm?” Her eyes drifted down to meet Nacht’s gaze.

“We should get to sleep now. So we’re not exhausted in the morning.”

“Y-yeah…”

The silence that followed was heavy. Not even a “goodnight” was shared, only quick and quiet nods of acknowledgement.

When Josele sat back down on the couch, she noticed how fast her heart was racing. And she knew that the thought of Nacht, of standing so close to him, was the reason. But that couldn’t be right. Her True Love™ was Finral. Right?

When Nacht sat on his bed, he buried his face in his hands, feeling how warm he’d become. Seeing Josele and the new sides of her brought on by conflict, however small, had him wanting more. But she was not his to love.

Rest wouldn’t come easy to either of them that night.

.....

The morning before the ball, Mallory finally is able to get Finral away from Alecdora for good (taking Finral to her sisters’ place ensured that the man wouldn’t come knocking).

And Mallory is finally able to explain to Finral that she knows where Josele is.

Nacht receives a call from Mallory and she explains everything to him.

Mallory brings Finral over to Nacht’s apartment for the reunion.

Finral tries to prompt Josele into song but it’s Mallory who picks up on it and tries to feed Josele the words.

Still, everyone (except Sterling) agrees that Finral and Josele should return to Andalasia together. But not before a date in New York and some time at the ball that evening.

While Josele and Finral head out for their date, Nacht and Mallory sit down and chat.

Mallory: Sorry I couldn’t bring Finral by sooner. Nacht: Mallory, it’s fine. You were probably busy with work so it makes sense that— Mallory: No no, I wasn’t putting it off. I literally couldn’t bring him because some other guy kept dragging him off! He was super weird and really rude too. Even his name is weird: Alec-darrel. Nacht: That can’t be his real name. Mallory: That’s what it sounded like to me. Also, this bird kept on finding its way to me and it acted a lot smarter than the birds I usually meet. I haven’t seen him in a couple days though. Nacht: That must be the Yuno bird Josele told me about. Mallory: The bird’s name is Yuno? Not something like “Cheep” or “Chirpy”?

When Josele comes back from the date, she’s very worried about going to the ball. Mallory and Sterling immediately volunteer to help.

.....

The time came for the ladies to pick out dresses to wear to the ball.

“If you really want to get… to get Nacht’s attention, try wearing complementary colors,” Josele remarked while eyeing the rows of dresses.

Her chest ached as she thought about how lucky Mallory was to have Nacht’s attention on her. To be the one to make him stop and stare in awe. But why? Josele had Finral so why did she want Nacht to see her, to admire her?

“S-since your hair is such a lovely shade of red, you would look good in green.”

“Yeah! Daddy says green makes my hair look extra pretty too!” Sterling piped up. “I’ll go find something for Mallory! Just you wait and see!”

“Hmm.” Mallory pursed her lips and tilted her head to the side. “But isn’t Finral’s tunic green? It’d look weird if he and I… matched.”

The suggestion of which actually made Mallory’s heart flutter. She knew how silly her thoughts were but she couldn’t help it. The days spent beside Finral repeated in her mind and she wanted to remain beside him, even knowing they were both promising themselves to others.

Josele gave a weak laugh and shook her head before saying, “Oh no, it’s fine if you two matched.” She shrugged. “You two already do a fine job of matching energies so matching appearances isn’t out of the question.” She blinked and caught herself. “N-not that you and Nacht don’t also get along well! You’re both intelligent and understanding of me and Finral’s… peculiarities. A-and you, uh…”

“Sele, it’s okay.” Mallory took Josele’s hands in her own then patted the back of them. “I know Nacht and I aren’t two peas in a pod, but we’ve managed.” With a reassuring smile, she stepped back. “Now, let’s think about what you’ll wear. You ought to look like a princess for… for Finral, huh?”

A sickening jealousy twisted Mallory’s stomach. There had to be something wrong with her for wanting to be with Finral despite Josele being his True Love™. So she pushed down the wish for Finral to serenade her as his love.

“Let’s think about what you’ll wear now.” Mallory approached the dress rack. “Black goes with everything. And I know you’re more for blue but I personally think purple works better with black.”

“Yes, they make quite a pair…” Josele muttered, immediately imagining Nacht in the black suit and purple dress shirt she’d seen him wear the night they met. It was a dark and elegant look. Nacht looked…

“Oh right! Nacht!” Mallory yelped. “Maybe you shouldn’t wear black or purple because then you’d kinda be wearing Nacht’s colors! Not that it’d be bad if you did. It’d actually be good. More than good! Great even!” Mallory paced the boutique floor and gesticulated wildly as she spoke. It was quite cute, how animated and lively she was.

Smiling as she watched, Josele recalled when she first met Mallory. The red-haired woman seemed like she had been trying to restrain her feelings that fateful morning. But now, her fluster was on full display. It was cute. And she seemed more like herself.

“Because you two honestly look great together in my opinion. NOT THAT YOU’RE TOGETHER! WE CLEARED UP THAT CONFUSION ALREADY!” Mallory laughed in a way that sounded painfully forced. She then turned to Josele. “What I’m trying to say is that you’ve done each other good! I mean, you’ve brought Nacht out of his shell and he’s really gotten you adapted to New York!”

Josele blinked. “Finral hasn’t gotten used to New York?”

“Not really?” Mallory replied while giving a shrug. “He’s not talking to buses anymore but… It’s just not the place for him.”

“Well I quite like it,” Josele admitted. “It’s not as pretty as the forest I grew up in, but there’s so many people and so much to do. Each new day is an adventure.”

“There sure is a lot. Though I personally would want adventures like fighting a troll,” Mallory joked and earned a giggle from Josele as well.

The laughter between Josele and Mallory died down however. Though neither said it out loud and neither recognized how the other felt, there was a sad tension shared between them. The lives that they initially saw for themselves were no longer what they wanted.

“Mallory!” Sterling piped up, finally returning from her search. “I found the perfect dress for you!” She looked between the women. “Did I come back at a bad time?”

“No no no, Sterling!” Josele quickly knelt down by the girl. “Thank you for coming back.”

“You said you had a dress for me?” Mallory asked, hoping to dissipate the earlier atmosphere.

Sterling glanced between them again. She may have only been six, but even she knew that something was wrong.

.....

The ball scene! AAAAAHHHHH!

Finral would try to profess his love for Josele but he’d fumble it, so unlike his usual eloquent self. He’s got Mal on the mind.

Josele does her best to compliment Mallory and Nacht as a couple but Mallory points out that she looks sickly when trying to speak.

Mallory and Nacht can barely look each other in the eyes because they know they love Finral and Josele. But they stubbornly think they should stick with how things are.

Finral dances with Mallory. Nacht dances with Josele. Both men hold the women as close as they can in the dance because no one wants to let goooooo!

Still, Finral guides Josele away so they can return to Anadalasia. And when he goes to get Josele’s cloak, Liliane (disguised as a hag) comes and offers Josele the poison apple.

Finral only tries True Love’s Kiss with Josele once. After one try, he knows it’s not gonna work.

When Nacht tries to deny that his kiss might save her, Mallory snaps at him, “Don’t you dare give up. Josele needs you!”

Josele’s fight against Liliane is much bloodier, actually drawing blood from the evil queen.

But it’s Yuno pecking Liliane directly in the eyes which makes her fall to her doom.

Once the dust settles, the four adults finally speak honestly.

Mallory and Nacht officially break up and wish each other the best with their new loves.

Finral and Josele bid each other goodbye and hope for one another’s happily ever afters.

Mallory takes to the fairy tale world well, evening singing her own song on her first day.

After a year of dating, Mallory and Finral have their full fairy tale wedding.

Josele gets herself established in the real world, working some odd jobs before being able to establish her own boutique.

While Nacht does propose early on, they still take a couple of years to date and plan.

.....

“And they all lived happily ever after. The End,” Sterling stated with finality. “So? What do you think?”

Sterling’s younger siblings—Dawn, Dusk, Sirius, Merel, and Vivian—stared in awe.

“It explains why Mommy’s so good with animals,” commented Dusk.

“Mommy was gonna be a princess?!” Dawn gasped.

“But she married a lame lawyer instead…” Merel grumbled.

“Daddy’s job isn’t lame!” Sirius retorted.

“Daddy’s kinda lame for being kidnapped by a dragon though,” Vivian muttered.

“Kids, it’s time for bed!” Josele said before poking her head into the living room.

Nacht leaned his head into the door frame too. “And what was that about me being lame?”

“Sorry Daddy,” Vivian whispered.

Together, Nacht and Josele tucked in the kids before going to their own bed.

“Are we living happily ever after, Josele?” Nacht whispered as he stroked her hair.

“I’d like to think so…” she whispered back, smiling.

[stealthnoodle]

We Have Always Lived in Hateno Village: Lets Play Tears of the Kingdom

I have utterly fucked off from the main quest at this point. Below the cut, I get another flashback sequence, briefly say hello to the Gorons, and spiral into sidequests.

Ah, lightning, my old nemesis. I got zapped twice before begrudgingly unequipping my metal shit.

Another wet memory! This one is Ganondorf and the Gerudos unleashing a swarm of monsters in the desert, yay! Zelda continues to participate in history, which surely won't have any consequences at all.

Gerudos my buff beloveds

Rauru's got THREE eyes and he didn't give me even ONE. :( At this rate I'm never going to replace all my dumb human parts with cool goat parts.

Oh fuck oh no oh fuck:

I didn't even mean to open my camera--that was all panic, baybee--but at least now Link has material for a found-footage horror film.

A fun thing to do is to get real deep underground and burn through 50+ brightblossoms and end up having to fast travel to safety after stubbornly fumbling for way too long in the dark.

An actually fun thing to do is to make a skeletal horse friend. Our time together was brief but beautiful, befitting a love that must blaze out like a dying star rather than fade away in a stable. I'll never forget you, skeleton horse friend.

Damn I wish Blingee still worked

Wet memory time! Zelda is outing herself as a time traveler, because fuck them future kids I guess. She is also not immune to the charms of her goat GGGGGGILF, if that blush means anything.

Back to sidequests. I continue to be Hyrule's premier engineer:

Photos taken moments before disaster (the disaster was that the cart detached from the harness during the cutscene and I took off without them):

Fuck it, we ball:

Ball it, we fuck:

The Gorons are building an amusement park? YES PLEASE

Nvm they're building it with an unregulated monopoly so I must destroy it at all costs

My current wild theory of the Zelda sightings in the present is that she did a time-travel body swap. We see her in the flashbacks as she sees herself, like Scott Bakula in Quantum Leap, but she's actually inhabiting the body of whatever malicious little weirdo is trotting around in her body right now. I know this is not going to be correct but the heart wants what it wants

I could afford the fire-resistant shirt but that would mean putting my tiddies in fabric jail so I refuse. Time to gather elixir ingredients and/or save up for fire-resistant pants.

I'm so glad I have camera mode unlocked now:

I found some lizards and got distracted by minecart tracks in the sky that have led me to a sky shrine!

I am now distracted by exploring the vast underground world in an area that has nothing to do with any quests I'm on.

After a brush with almost continuing the main quest, I went around finding (and inevitably repairing) sky terminals before trekking to Hateno Village for FASHION.

omg i love the mushroom fashionista

i love her secret midnight veggie habit

i love her public art pieces

she's perfect

Also perfect is this girl, who gave me a single egg and will never give me another:

I no longer remember the main quest. I have always lived in Hateno Village. I am the campaign manager for competing mayoral campaigns. I spend my nights roaming the network of caverns connecting the town's wells. I fill my pockets with pungent cheese.

Ooh, ooh, I get a FASHION REWARD for my relentless stalking of candidates for public office and my dedication to waking old woman up their beds to impose mushrooms upon them. I wonder what it--

!!!

HOLY FUCKING FRUITY FUNGI, BATMAN, I WILL NEVER TAKE THIS HAT OFF:

[walker-extended-universe]

WIP Wednesday Game

stolen from @kedreeva

Rules:

Post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can’t share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it!

3x14 August got kidnapped AU

“I don’t need an apology.” He cut his mother off and allowed himself to give her a curt look. “I need to know he’s okay. Try his phone; he may not be able to answer but we should be able to at least trace a location. I’m going to go report back to James so he knows we’re looking at a potential hostage situation.” And also maybe deliver an I fucking told you so but that could wait until he knew August was safe.

He stormed back to the parking garage to find James. “Walker, there you are. How’s-”

“August is missing. Kevin’s also in the wind. I wonder if those two things are connected,” he said through grit teeth.

“Ah, well-”

“Don’t,” he snapped. “I don’t want your apologies or any excuses. I want my son home safely. Make that happen and I might not do something to you that’ll cost me my badge.”

Cordell/Lucia storm

The woman stared at him. “...Right….And who are you?”

“Oh! Right. Uh, my name is Cordell Walker. And you are?”

“Lucia Reyes.” She sat up, holding the blankets to her chest. “I- I’m sorry, I don’t understand how I ended up here. I was on my way into town….”

He nodded and sat down on the other side of the table. “It’s okay. That storm is pretty bad; I’m not surprised you got turned around, especially since you were traveling on foot. Once it clears up, I’ll be happy to give you a ride to wherever you need to go.”

Cordell/Lucia dream

He just wanted to sleep and forget everything for a while. He closed his eyes with a heavy sigh and wished for sweet dreams.

When he opened his eyes again, he wasn’t in his own bed. Or even his own house as far as he could tell.

This dream again. He sighed and rolled out of bed.

It started a few weeks ago. He went to sleep one night and woke up here. “Here” being some kind of weird dreamworld where he was a ranch hand sometime in the frontier days. He’d work with the horses, eat some delicious chili with the family, and then head back to bed, where he'd wake up back in his own life, perfectly rested for the day.

Emily/Hoyt

It was just supposed to be a simple raid. Sure, there was always a risk with his job; they all knew it. But Cordell always came back alright. Maybe he had a scratch or a bruise or, heaven forbid, a stab or a shot wound, but he always came back.

Maybe Emily had just grown naive enough to fool herself with pretty lies like that. Otherwise, that phone call may not have destroyed her so completely.

She tried to shove it down. There was so much for her to do. She had to make preparations for the funeral- his real funeral, not that ponyshow the county was putting on for their Fallen Ranger.